Brazil: Snow Hunters

Snow Hunters

by Paul Yoon

I like the idea of this book more than the book itself.  The themes of immigration and learning how to thrive in a new land and culture are among my favorites, but alas, this book is not.  The main character, Yohan, is a quiet, contemplative refugee who we meet as he arrives in Brazil after two years in a Japanese prison camp.  We don't know why he decided not to return home to Korea after being released from prison at the end of the war.  We get very little insight about his former life in Korea, but there are glimpses of his reminiscence of the camp, where he cared for his friend Peng after he was blinded in battle.  We know he has been traumatized in a way the keeps him from truly connecting to those he comes to know in Brazil.  The story, which has little dialogue and much exploration of Yohan's inner thoughts and feelings, spans ten years without much of anything happening.  I agree with other reviews that note the poetry of the narrative, but the book did not speak to my heart.

P.S. I do think Snow Hunters should get a prize for most beautiful, mesmerizing covers.  I just love the feelings it evokes.

And yes, for those of you who are following closely enough, I have suddenly gone out of order.  Gasp!  So here's what happened ...

About two weeks ago, I experienced a miserable night of insomnia.  You know, those never-ending hours of darkness where you find yourself tossing, turning, kicking off the sheets, yanking them back on, reaching ridiculous levels of frustration over any little sound in the night ... not that you were going to be sleeping anyway.  My mind was racing with my growing list of things to do, and suddenly, I realized I was feeling exactly the same way I used to feel before moving away from the chaos of the Washington DC area.  I had one of those lightbulb moments, suddenly understanding that after a long and lovely break from stress, which I'd credited to my lovely new hometown in the Shenandoah Valley, I'd somehow managed to allow the craziness back into my life.  And I was suffering the consequences of forgetting to be mindful about how I spend my days. 

I got up at about 3:00 a.m. and made a list of all the things I had committed to and all the things that were worrying, stressing, or overwhelming me.  And then I made some changes.  I communicated with some very wonderful, supporting, understanding people whose help I needed to set better boundaries or back out of things I really wanted to do but just couldn't follow through on.  (They were all amazing about it, by the way ... note to self: keep surrounding yourself with people like this while also being more careful about making promises you can't keep.)  Over the next week, I focused on getting things ... er, mainly myself ... back under control, and I'm happy to say that the process itself cured my insomnia and the impact of the process has significantly reduced my stress.

On the chopping block, unfortunately, was this blog.  I was going to retire it without even getting very far into my own self-assigned challenge.  Reading is probably the most important gift I give myself.  It's my escape, my relaxation, my form of meditation, my chance to learn and grow.  It's something I share with people I love ... my mother, sister, mother-in-law, closest friends, favorite colleagues, and sometimes my children although they don't read as much as I wish they did.  It's a huge part of my identity.  And the blog, while fun and interesting and challenging, has detracted from the overall power that reading has to positively influence my days.  Too much worry about picking the right book, finding one that I even want to bother with reading, and feeling frustrated when the one selected turns out to be disappointing.  I suffered over Bhutan ... found plenty, just didn't really want to read them right now, or maybe ever.  So I was ready to throw in the towel and skip the entire blog instead of only Bhutan.

But then I read this book set in Brazil anyway.  It was freely chosen, for myself, and not for the blog, and I wanted to write about it.  So I'm switching things up.  Changing my own rules.  I'll keep blogging since I'm really doing this for myself anyway.  I mean, I do hope that anyone who is reading this actually enjoys it, but I know there aren't too many people clicking on the link to these pages and that's okay.  This is about my journey, so I'm kicking back just a little and plan to keep working my way around the world but in the order in which I feel inspired.  I've said before that often times, books choose me.  I can't, and frankly don't want to force myself to pick up a book that's not calling my name. 

So today ... Brazil, and tomorrow ... I'm not sure.  That's part of what I find joyful about reading ... you just never know where it will take you.