Ratings2
Average rating5
"Before violence tore apart the tapestry of Sri Lanka and turned its pristine beaches red, there were two families. Yasodhara tells the story of her own Sinhala family, rich in love, with everything they could ask for. As a child in idyllic Colombo, Yasodhara's and her siblings' lives are shaped by social hierarchies, their parents' ambitions, teenage love and, subtly, the differences between Tamil and Sinhala people; but the peace is shattered by the tragedies of war. Yasodhara's family escapes to Los Angeles. But Yasodhara's life has already become intertwined with a young Tamil girl's ... Saraswathie is living in the active war zone of Sri Lanka, and hopes to become a teacher. But her dreams for the future are abruptly stamped out when she is arrested by a group of Sinhala soldiers and pulled into the very heart of the conflict that she has tried so hard to avoid - a conflict that, eventually, will connect her and Yasodhara in unexpected ways. In the tradition of Anil's Ghost and The God of Small Things, Nayomi Munaweera's Island of a Thousand Mirrors is an emotionally resonant saga of cultural heritage, heartbreaking conflict and deep family bonds. Narrated in two unforgettably authentic voices and spanning the entirety of the decades-long civil war, it offers an unparalleled portrait of a beautiful land during its most difficult moment by a spellbinding new literary talent who promises tremendous things to come"--
Reviews with the most likes.
This is another trigger warning: everything novel. I'm not given to spoilers, but I wish I'd been prepared for this because it caught me by surprise at well past halfway. So: TW: Violent rape. Violent murders. Violent trauma and tragedy and horrors of war. Caveat lector, biggus tempus.
Think hard: can you make it through that? If you can, I think you'll be rewarded. This is a beautiful, rich, graceful and highly intelligent work. Deeply moral, too, and frighteningly relevant to present-day (2022) USA: Munaweera paints a complex picture of a society where misogyny and racial intolerances are manipulated into hatreds, into a self-perpetuating cycle of radicalizing and violence in a way that has eerie parallels to much that we're living today. She also, minor spoiler, shows good people overcoming it despite trauma that is unimaginable to you or me.
The writing is lovely. Poetic in a way that even I, a total poetroglodyte, adored. Munaweera dances with words, with descriptions that take a half-second to click, and when they do they make me smile. Every time.
(Side note: is there a thing going on where writers are playing with first-person narrative in new interesting ways? Or have I just been noticing it more lately? Anyhow, it worked quite well here.)