The Partner ended up being a pretty awesome book, meaning I really have crossed in the dark side. The lead character, Patrick Lanigan, has potential to be a nice person. Everybody around him is screwed up, and he just has an eye-for-an-eye attitude (which would make Gandhi very disappointed). And why not, when you can walk away stealing ninety million, invest it, get arrested, return the money and then still walk away with some money in the end. I almost love the disappointing manner John Grisham ends the book. It makes you desperate to follow the character just a little longer, until there’s some sort happier ending. Like hello! You took us this far, couldn’t you have just made one measly chapter and made me a bit happier?! Not too much happier, just a bit. *sniff* Oh well. The scary part is that I moved on and was not even thinking about the book by the time I went to sleep and had a dream. I don’t quite remember the dream, but I do know it involved a happier ending. That’s where I realize I most probably should not be reading John Grisham books.
I decided to go for something more light-hearted, and read City of Veils. I’m not heartless, the plot itself wasn’t a laughing matter. A young Saudi girl found dead and mutilated on the beach. The forensic specialist is a woman, Katya al-Something (yes, I forgot), working alongside male investigators and brings another man to help on the job who is conservative. An American woman is also living in Jeddah, because apparently her husband wanted to work there and then fell in love with the (male-dominating) culture. The wife arrives in Jeddah, her husband disappears right after, and there is a woman is dead. Freaky.
What can be more amusing than a book about Saudi’s written in the perspective of a white woman? I’m not racist against white women, but she is clearly trying to exaggerate her point when she repeatedly says Saudi Arabia is no place for a woman and conservative Muslims are intolerant towards their women. But it could have been worse. There is nothing more comical than reading about an American woman who cannot get accustomed to the abaya and keeps tripping over herself. What exactly is so hard about wearing an abaya? It’s like any other coat, just not fitted and lighter in weight, so I’m guessing the tripping is because the hem is too long. I guess some people haven’t figured out that they can have the hem adjusted. I’d assume maybe they’re stuck in the 7th century, but I think people knew about sewing even back then –but I could be wrong, after all they didn’t have Pfaffs and Singers back then. I also find it pretty stupid for an intelligent Arab girl to want to keep her niqaab up around men who aren’t her mahram, and then find it awkward when he looks away and is reserved. It’s like they want specific men to objectify them, but not all? I wouldn’t be surprised if that is a reality, it is Jeddah after all. For the guys part, he’s full of contradictions as well, but I’ll take it as a redeeming factor that he has inner reflections of guilt. At least this novel ended happily-ever-after. Sure, it was easy to predict and she could have given it a twist, but I’ll take it as is. Not like I have a choice.
PS: I was just kidding, I don’t really believe Saudi’s are freaks. Just some. Not all.