The first two pages of The Kite Runner establish that as a child in Kabul in 1975, the first-person narrator witnessed or did something life-changing, something that so indelibly marked him that he carried it into the novel’s present day, which is December 2001. The summer of that year the narrator, who is living in San Francisco, received a call from a friend in Pakistan. “I knew it wasn’t just Rahim Khan on the line. It was my past of unatoned sins.” (p. 1) The friend offers him “a way to be good again.” (p. 2) Without any further explanation, the second chapter takes readers back to the narrator’s childhood.
Hosseini sets up the first part of the novel with that introduction and jump. What did the narrator, whose name is Amir, do that was so bad? What happened to mark him for decades? What would it take for him to atone? This kind of very short framing, with most of the story happening in flashback, can be effective, and Hosseini’s version sets the stakes and stokes a reader’s curiosity. But it’s also a technique that gets used a lot: the protagonist is in a mess, now the author will take some time telling readers how they got there. For me, the approach has lost effectiveness with repetition, and I am beginning to think that authors use it because they want to grab readers quickly, as if they think a straightforward telling of the tale would not be interesting enough to hold the reader’s attention. In The Kite Runner, it’s also a sign that the author is going to lean very heavily on melodrama.









