One of my New Years resolutions was to read at least one book per month.
Little Bee by Chris Cleave was my first choice.
I was inside of a gift shop, in a hotel here in Costa Rica — and there were few books to choose from.
I didn’t want to read a bunch of inspirational quotes from ‘the monk who sold his ferrari’ — or whatever. I’m kind of over self-help books, in fact, I’ve read enough to constantly sound like a therapist.
The other novels were filled with dramatic yet boring story lines:
“Rich British woman has affair with another rich British man.”
“Rich person finds out a dirty family secret and does something out of the ordinary.”
Everything seemed to be off — that’s why I chose “Little Bee” — the biography simply said nothing — it just said to read it to find out the story.
I’m impressed with this Cleave guy — for a regular joe who reads this story they may be fascinated with how immigrant refugees get treated.
Myself, being one, was more intrigued that a white writer would be able to write at such an angle.
Little Bee was the name of the Nigerian refugee in the novel — the way she described post traumatic stress and the revelations of being a survivor were so spot on, that I questioned how Cleaves got this information.
He’s a writer, of course, writers care about every detail — even if it has little to do with them.
I’d give away the plot but the other reviewers of this novel suggest we not give it away.
All in all, the main theme I pulled out from this novel was this:
“People should use something, so simple, as the privilege they were born with & give light to those who don’t.”
Now, I’m sure, all of the wrong people are reading this novel. But it’s a nice touch — and it’s restored a little of my faith in humanity.
Unfortunately, there are many refugees from all over who still don’t have the right to live — and with this political climate we are in, the trump era, it’s nice to know that there are still sane human beings.
Even if they are just writers….