True Story? Riiiight....

I finished reading "Princess Sultana's Daughters" by Jean Sasson last night. It's the follow-up of "Princess," both of which are supposed to be exposes written by a Saudi princess, alias "Sultana," about how totally restricted the lives of Saudi women are. I read the first book more than a year ago, and for all I knew everything in it was true, though a few things seemed tacked on, to make men look even worse than they already had been portrayed. This book, however, is just too pat: For example, one daughter rejects God and has a mental breakdown while the other becomes very religious and complains that her family is too liberal. I had doubts when the first daughter's psychiatrist tells the parents that the daughter has told him that she has had a lesbian relationship, because no ethical psychiatrist would do this. Later, when "Sultana" describes the second daughter becoming an Islamic fundamentalist while she also loves lap dogs, I stopped believing in the book altogether.


A quick perusal of the reviews of this book doesn't show a lot of other people doubting that any of it is true, though the few that do actually explain why they think the books are false. I'm rather surprised, post-James Frey, that more people aren't questioning this, though it must be said that both books precede "A Million Little Pieces" by more than ten years.


In the end I felt really manipulated by Sasson. Women's rights are high on the list of concerns about Saudi Arabia (and other places in the Arab world). However, I wonder if she isn't just trotting out these stories for the sensational effect, stories which non-Muslims would totally "buy" because it fits so many of the stereotypes we already hold.


The last time I read a book that caught me like this was "The Kite Runner." That was my fault, though. I tend to read the same kinds of books for period of time, because of where I end up in the library. I'll read a bunch of authors whose last names begin with E because I was looking for a Louise Erdrich novel, and I'll read a bunch of memoirs in a row because one day I was in the Biographies section. I had been reading memoirs when someone loaned me "The Kite Runner" and was so totally sucked in that until the absolutely unbelievable coincidence I never read the back flap, which starts, " Hosseini's stunning debut novel..."


That time I felt silly, not cheated. I know in the future I will look closely at books that purport to be "as told to" the author.

Honesty

First of all, regarding yesterday's post - I wrote it before I went to bed last night, but I went to bed after midnight. I'd planned to write it earlier in the day, but the Daemon had a late word delivery and then I was gone all of the rest of the day, with friends. Please count it as the word from 12/27, if you would.

I also realized that writing the same day as I receive the word isn't very easy. Yesterday's post was short, but I thought about it most of the day, until I found myself in the vicinity of the Campanile. Anyway, now I'm thinking I will get the word of the next day.

In the meantime, today's word is honesty.


Honesty is about taking risks and saying what is true for me when people don't ask, but need to know. It's a little different than telling the truth, though the two are very close. The former doesn't require a prompt, while the latter does most of the time.

Honesty: "I stayed out until two in the morning."
Telling the truth: "When did you get in?" "Two AM."

It seems to me - and this is just on the edge of my mind, so I'm not sure I can articulate it very well - that one can not be honest and tell the truth about many many things. There are people who I know won't cheat me, or lie to me, but there's still "something" about them that makes me uncomfortable. Perhaps it all comes down to the lie of omission. Honesty doesn't use lies at all (unless they're of the "this cake is - *choke* - delicious" to your friend's grandmother variety), and sometimes requires some risk. It's a state of being, not an action.