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just_one_more_paige 's review for:
Your Heart Is a Muscle the Size of a Fist
by Sunil Yapa
This review originally appeared on my book review blog: justonemorepaige.wordpress.com.
This book. Honestly, I think it's going to be impossible to do it justice. There's just no way that I can tell you how gorgeous Yapa's writing is. His sentences, his descriptions, his words - they are just stunning. I'd be lying if I said this style of writing is something I'm normally drawn to. With section after section of self introspection, run-on sentences, long descriptions that often you have to read twice to fully appreciate, and the slow burn of a "plot," really more a setting, that is completely drowned out by the inner character development. It's just not usually my cup of tea. But the chatter about this book was just so loud that it bore me down. I had to see what it was about. And I've never read an author that can write this style in the way Yapa can. It's that special.
This is the story of a riot, yes. But really it's a story of humanity. It's a story of perspectives and reactions. It's a story of moments. It's about the slow march to understanding. Understanding the lessons we've already learned, why we made our choices. It's discovering how we really got to where we are. It's finding who we really are, what we really care about. It's starting here: "Son, care too much and the world will kill you cold." (p. 94/212) and "...how easily an open heart can be poisoned, how quickly, love becomes the seeds of rage. Life wrecks the living." (p. 132) and finding this has been there waiting for us: "...he understood in some way, the sometime knowledge of what this is, the knowledge of the whole ugly beautiful thing, the knowledge of the courage it takes to move into fear and to fuck up and to go on living, knowing that sometimes it is two people alone and some small kindness between them that is not even called family, or forgiveness, but might be what some, on the good days, call love." (p.306)
This is the story of a father who lost a wife, then his son, then himself to grief. This is the story of a son looking for something he may have always had. This is the story of two officers acting as they feel they must, acting to protect. This is the story of two protesters, struggling to fight for something greater, struggling to keep it peaceful. This is the story of a man who wants more for his people, who is faced with choosing between being crushed by disillusionment or pressing onward. This is a story of people. This is a story of their perspectives of a single day. This is a story of how all their pasts led them to that day and where their futures will take them afterwards. This is a story of the everyday heroics.
This is a story of us. All of us. Of the roiling mass that is our world. And this is a story of finding the worth in that world. It's touching, haunting, explosive, agonizing. It will both crush and rebuild your heart. It's so absurdly relevant that it hurts to read at times. It will leave you feeling raw and open. It's a masterpiece of humankind that will affect you to the core.
This book. Honestly, I think it's going to be impossible to do it justice. There's just no way that I can tell you how gorgeous Yapa's writing is. His sentences, his descriptions, his words - they are just stunning. I'd be lying if I said this style of writing is something I'm normally drawn to. With section after section of self introspection, run-on sentences, long descriptions that often you have to read twice to fully appreciate, and the slow burn of a "plot," really more a setting, that is completely drowned out by the inner character development. It's just not usually my cup of tea. But the chatter about this book was just so loud that it bore me down. I had to see what it was about. And I've never read an author that can write this style in the way Yapa can. It's that special.
This is the story of a riot, yes. But really it's a story of humanity. It's a story of perspectives and reactions. It's a story of moments. It's about the slow march to understanding. Understanding the lessons we've already learned, why we made our choices. It's discovering how we really got to where we are. It's finding who we really are, what we really care about. It's starting here: "Son, care too much and the world will kill you cold." (p. 94/212) and "...how easily an open heart can be poisoned, how quickly, love becomes the seeds of rage. Life wrecks the living." (p. 132) and finding this has been there waiting for us: "...he understood in some way, the sometime knowledge of what this is, the knowledge of the whole ugly beautiful thing, the knowledge of the courage it takes to move into fear and to fuck up and to go on living, knowing that sometimes it is two people alone and some small kindness between them that is not even called family, or forgiveness, but might be what some, on the good days, call love." (p.306)
This is the story of a father who lost a wife, then his son, then himself to grief. This is the story of a son looking for something he may have always had. This is the story of two officers acting as they feel they must, acting to protect. This is the story of two protesters, struggling to fight for something greater, struggling to keep it peaceful. This is the story of a man who wants more for his people, who is faced with choosing between being crushed by disillusionment or pressing onward. This is a story of people. This is a story of their perspectives of a single day. This is a story of how all their pasts led them to that day and where their futures will take them afterwards. This is a story of the everyday heroics.
This is a story of us. All of us. Of the roiling mass that is our world. And this is a story of finding the worth in that world. It's touching, haunting, explosive, agonizing. It will both crush and rebuild your heart. It's so absurdly relevant that it hurts to read at times. It will leave you feeling raw and open. It's a masterpiece of humankind that will affect you to the core.