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Letter: On Reading `The Sandcastle Girls'
by Mark Gavoor
August 15, 2012
http://www.armenianweekly.com/2012/08/15/letter-on-reading-the-sandcastle-girls/
Dear Editor,
I have just finished reading Chris Bohjalian's masterpiece, The
SandcastleGirls. I do not use the word masterpiece lightly. Whether or
not it is a masterpiece in the general pantheon of literature, I
cannot say. I am too close to the subject matter. For Armenians, it is
nothing less than a masterpiece. Upon finishing it, I could not help
but sit down and immediately write this brief review and reflection.
The novel is brilliant, engaging, well crafted, mesmerizing, and full
of hope, and, as in all books about the Armenian Genocide, full of
examples of the horrors mankind can inflict on mankind. (Photo by
Naira Ayvazyan)
I started it yesterday; it lured me in slowly. I have not read any of
Bohjalian's other books, thinking, rightly or wrongly, that they were
written for a female audience. I was immediately impressed with his
style and skill. I realized why he was such a popular and revered
author. Flat out, the man can spin a yarn. He can weave a story. He
can describe things delicately or intensely as called for in the plot.
This morning, I could do nothing but finish reading the book. I wanted
to write that I could not put the book down. The truth is that I put
it down several times to think, ponder, wonder, shudder, and wipe a
tear from my eye.
It made me think of my family members, including my maternal
grandmother's sister Khatoun, who shares a name with a character in
the book. Just a handful of us even know she existed. I thought of my
family members who survived, and who I knew however briefly. I thought
of all those who did not, and of whom I have the vaguest knowledge. I
remembered that most of my family, as well as my wife's, are from
Kharpert. I kept thinking about my relatives still in Aleppo and
prayed they are doing well. We have lost touch with them over the
years and that saddens me.
The novel is brilliant, engaging, well crafted, mesmerizing, and full
of hope, and, as in all books about the Armenian Genocide, full of
examples of the horrors mankind can inflict on mankind. Every Armenian
should read it. Every Turk ought to read it. Some will; most won't. It
is a novel that certainly appeals to the descendants of those that
lived through the times described, namely Turks and Armenians. It is
also a novel that stands on its own. It would not have risen to 7th on
the New York Times Hardcover Fiction List if it were only Armenians
reading it.
I cannot and will not write a synopsis of the book. Simply, get a copy
of the book and read it. Suffice it to say it takes place then and
now. It is autobiographical, and it is not. It is fact and fiction. It
is full of serendipity that somehow is not a surprise. It is horribly
sad and somehow wonderfully hopeful. It portrays Turks that were evil
and Turks that would be considered saintly in either religion. It is
in the grand tradition of Armenian storytelling of `Once there was and
was not' (Gar oo chigar).
Thank you, Chris Bohjalian, for this most special gift.
Mark Gavoor
Chicago, Ill.
by Mark Gavoor
August 15, 2012
http://www.armenianweekly.com/2012/08/15/letter-on-reading-the-sandcastle-girls/
Dear Editor,
I have just finished reading Chris Bohjalian's masterpiece, The
SandcastleGirls. I do not use the word masterpiece lightly. Whether or
not it is a masterpiece in the general pantheon of literature, I
cannot say. I am too close to the subject matter. For Armenians, it is
nothing less than a masterpiece. Upon finishing it, I could not help
but sit down and immediately write this brief review and reflection.
The novel is brilliant, engaging, well crafted, mesmerizing, and full
of hope, and, as in all books about the Armenian Genocide, full of
examples of the horrors mankind can inflict on mankind. (Photo by
Naira Ayvazyan)
I started it yesterday; it lured me in slowly. I have not read any of
Bohjalian's other books, thinking, rightly or wrongly, that they were
written for a female audience. I was immediately impressed with his
style and skill. I realized why he was such a popular and revered
author. Flat out, the man can spin a yarn. He can weave a story. He
can describe things delicately or intensely as called for in the plot.
This morning, I could do nothing but finish reading the book. I wanted
to write that I could not put the book down. The truth is that I put
it down several times to think, ponder, wonder, shudder, and wipe a
tear from my eye.
It made me think of my family members, including my maternal
grandmother's sister Khatoun, who shares a name with a character in
the book. Just a handful of us even know she existed. I thought of my
family members who survived, and who I knew however briefly. I thought
of all those who did not, and of whom I have the vaguest knowledge. I
remembered that most of my family, as well as my wife's, are from
Kharpert. I kept thinking about my relatives still in Aleppo and
prayed they are doing well. We have lost touch with them over the
years and that saddens me.
The novel is brilliant, engaging, well crafted, mesmerizing, and full
of hope, and, as in all books about the Armenian Genocide, full of
examples of the horrors mankind can inflict on mankind. Every Armenian
should read it. Every Turk ought to read it. Some will; most won't. It
is a novel that certainly appeals to the descendants of those that
lived through the times described, namely Turks and Armenians. It is
also a novel that stands on its own. It would not have risen to 7th on
the New York Times Hardcover Fiction List if it were only Armenians
reading it.
I cannot and will not write a synopsis of the book. Simply, get a copy
of the book and read it. Suffice it to say it takes place then and
now. It is autobiographical, and it is not. It is fact and fiction. It
is full of serendipity that somehow is not a surprise. It is horribly
sad and somehow wonderfully hopeful. It portrays Turks that were evil
and Turks that would be considered saintly in either religion. It is
in the grand tradition of Armenian storytelling of `Once there was and
was not' (Gar oo chigar).
Thank you, Chris Bohjalian, for this most special gift.
Mark Gavoor
Chicago, Ill.