👶👶👶👶👶 The Art of Hearing Heartbeats, by Jan Phillipp Sendker

This novel was decidedly poetic in nature, with eloquent verbiage and intense imagery. This style certainly served it's purpose in the first three-quarters of the book, and really made me eager to keep reading. By the last quarter of the book, however, it seemed to take away from the story, and became more wordy than pleasing. I found myself irritated with the lengthy descriptions, and ready to move on with the story. I imagine it must be difficult for such an articulate author to find a balance between expressing himself, and producing work that is verbose. Also, unfortunately, the twist at the end was predictable, and the foreshadowing of it, quite obvious.

There were several unanswered questions, and I felt that the reader would have been better-served with just a few less loose ends. Much was left to the imagination,  (ie. What was Mya Mya's ultimate fate - was she able to live with herself after her wretched decision? After having suffered such a fate, how could Tin Win have left his children behind without explanation, no matter how old they were?). Thankfully, the main plot was well-executed, and tied up nicely.

One would assume, from reading one kvetch after another in this review, that I did not particularly like this book. However, because the majority of the book was exquisitely written, I had to give it a high rating. It was, more than anything, a beautiful love story, one of unceasing, unconditional true love.  It rekindled, in me, the realization of what is truly important in life.  I remembered that it is not achievement and reputation that are important, for they are too reliant upon the ego, but rather true devotion and faith, neither of which are fear-based, but come from our core. Once we let go of our fear, and succumb to love, we have little need for the ego. 

Read 8/21/14