Where we are

I didn't realize when I read In the Eye of the Sun at the end of July that it would stay with me this way. I didn't realize on that warm evening in Los Angeles when I swept slightly tipsily through the used bookstore on Franklin Avenue that the huge book I'd grab --because I knew the author's work, because it was a big fat novel and I can't resist them -- I didn't realize that this book would become a sort of primer for the coming year. As I struggle to do my work, to focus on the task at hand; as I learn to live alone for a time; as little wars are waged in my heart and I seek to make sense of my and others' positions. As I try to have compassion, to be logical and ethical, while often feeling only burning selfishness and blatant, implacable desire.

Of course, how could I not relate to Asya? A women whose understanding of the world is filtered through what she's learned from novels. Who worries that certain actions mean she's forever parted company with Dorothea. Obviously, we are not the same. Soueif is brilliant at situating Asya's story in specific political and historical moments, compelling in their own right, and her struggle is so much about creating an identity betwixt cultures, between the the conflicting pulls of home and elsewhere.

But my first impulse after finishing the novel was that I wanted to talk about the characters. Of course, it now seems that what I really wanted to do was talk about myself and those around me.