The Art of Hearing Heartbeats by Jan-Philipp Sendker

My own beloved copy I bought from Dymocks!

My own beloved copy I bought from Dymocks!

When a successful New York lawyer suddenly disappears without a trace, neither his wife nor his daughter Julia has any idea where he might be-until they find a love letter he wrote many years ago to a Burmese woman. Intent on solving the mystery and coming to terms with her father’s past, Julia decides to travel to the village where the woman had lived. There she uncovers a tale of unimaginable hardship, resilience and passion that will change her life forever.

If I had to summarise this whole book with one word, it would be the word beautiful. Beautiful cover, beautiful title, beautiful feeling, beautiful characters, beautiful relationships and beautiful descriptions. You get my meaning.

But then, after saying all of that, I don’t really have much other feedback. One of the only things that really drew this book to me was the elegance of Sendker’s writing. He truly represented the (again) beautiful sense and style of Burmese culture. He turned an otherwise plain plotline into a content read. The characters and the relationship of Tin Win and MiMi were slowly and marvellously developed, the only character I wasn’t happy about was Julia. For some reason, I felt that she was a bit rushed. Jan-Phillip Sendker had focused too much on the main characters than on the character who had embarked and surfaced this whole story. Well, that’s my opinion.

He also left a lot unsaid throughout the book and at the end, however that only fuelled to my imagination and created a better aura to the book. The descriptions themselves were pretty amazing. While it was not a mind blowing and amazing read, it was more of a warmer, slower and blossoming story. I recommend it.

‘Thanks to Mimi’s descriptions, he could connect sounds with objects, plants and animals. He learned that the wing beats of a swallowtail butterfly sounded brighter than those of a monarch; that the leaves of a mulberry tree rustled differently in the wind from those of the guava; that the chomping of a wood worm was not to be confused with that of a caterpillar; that the rubbing of hind legs was distinct from fly to fly. It was a whole new alphabet.’-Pg. 178

Pretty beautiful, huh.


About everburningcinders

So so...where to start? Well, for starters, I can say that I'm one of those kinds of people that don't care about their hair, or desperately need another pair of shoes. In fact, if you see me, you wouldn't notice me at all. I'm just the shadow, sticking to the walls, head buried in a book or eyes glazed over in a daydream. I want to be listened to and I want to be appreciated. My moral in life: Life is life. Believe in it and suck it up. I look forward to meetin' ya all!
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