Broaching forgiveness...

There are two things that make a great book for me. One, that when I am away from it, at work or wherever, I can't stop thinking about it and am eager to know what happens next. And, two, when I am pulled away mid-read, say to check someone in, it takes a few seconds and a few shakes of the head to remember where I am. The Island of the Blue Dolphins meets both of these criteria for me. I think of getting lost in a book as kind of like seeing one of those hidden holographic images in the photos with all the mixed up colors that used to hang in the malls. Some people see it; some people don't. But for those who do, a magical secret world awaits.

The coolest part about this book in particular is that it is such a simple story. It consists of basically one character throughout. Yet it captivates my attention, and I feel a genuine concern for her. The simplicity, though, is a facade. It hides a thoughtful complexity beneath. Again, like the holographic picture. Upon first glance, it is a story of an Indian girl alone on an island. But beneath, there is much more said. My favorite example of this is her relationship with her dog. To explain it I will have to give a brief synopsis of the book, as their relationship has a history. When Karana, the main character, jumps off the ship that carries her people away to be with her younger brother who was left behind, he tells her that he is now chief of the land and must take care of her, though he is only 6. During an attempt to be brave, he is killed by a pack of wild dogs. Karana is left alone. Once she gathers food, builds her home, and prepares her weapons, she sets off to find the pack of dogs and kill them in honor of her brother, as well as to protect herself. She is almost successful, killing some and wounding their leader. When she finds him, she carries him back to her home and nurses him back to health. Her one enemy, who killed her last remaining relative, now becomes her only friend. He is all she has, her only hope for companionship. And, soon, they are best of friends, the old wounds forgotten.

I relate this tale to the books I am now starting to read. The one I started today, Hiding in the Spotlight, is a story of a Jewish girl who escaped death during WWII by hiding the fact that she was a Jew and performing as a pianist for the very soldiers who killed her family. (Thank you, Nancy.) The other, which I will read after, is Sunflower, a compilation of views on forgiveness, written by survivors of genocide from several countries. (Thank you, Cara.)

It's interesting to read IOTBD because I feel like it represents life today, only scaled down to such an extent that it makes our human turmoils more visible, more understandable. Once you scrape away all the excess, the view becomes clear. And you see that beneath it all, we are all alone. And, sworn enemies or not, all we have is each other.


Eckhart Tolle tells a story of geese in his book, A New Earth. He was sitting by a pond one day when he saw two geese fighting. One pecked at the others head, they squawked, they splashed, and then... they swam away, back to normal. He spoke of how interesting it was to see them release their anger and get over it so quickly, interacting again. He then relates it to humans, and the damage we do by holding on to our anger. What benefit does it have?