The Kite Runner

Started reading this "acclaimed" debut by Afghan writer Khaled Hosseini on the train to and from London town yesterday - and in the beginning it betrayed all of the traits of a bad first novel (horribly self-conscious, obviously autobiographical, hugely episodic) but - for whatever reason - fifty or sixty pages in, the whole thing lifted (lifted in a very real way, I sat up in my seat, started turning pages faster, became - gripped): I went from mild bemusement (Isabel Allende rates this?) to - almost total conviction (Isabel Allende rates this!!)) . . .

It's a great read - there are elements of Alexander Hemon's Nowhere Man in here (an alien coming to terms with living in the states) but Hosseini is nowhere near as . . . playful as Hemon. Hosseini much more of a "writer" if you know what I mean. It's self-conscious (the narrator is a writer, eventually), and "first novelly" to be sure - but for all that it has a quaint charm that doesn't outstay its welcome . . .