n  There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to outcarol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain…Or so says the legend.n

The Thorn Birds is a book I’d heard of for most of my life, but for whatever reason, I’d never gotten around to, despite it being on my TBR for years. Reflecting back on my childhood, I vagely recall hearing of the miniseries, which ABC had apparently reaired sometime in the late 1980’s or early 90’s. That’s all it was, through—a vague recollection most likely associated with seeing the network’s perpetual advertisement, and cemented in an irritated comment made by my stepmother. I’ve no idea why that specific memory resonated, but it did. Perhaps my subconscious was at work, even then, preparing my impressionable mind for the literary lifestyle it knew would-or at least could—follow.

That memory, like many others, was soon buried, only to resurface now and again. I believe that eventually led me to click on the Goodreads provided synopsis, purely out of curiosity. I added it immediately.

I quickly realized that Colleen McCullough's daunting 1977 novel had a lot going for it. Much, much more than I could’ve imagined. The historical tale centered around the Cleary’s and their life-altering move from New Zealand to the fictional sheep station called Drogheda. In her element, the lifelong Australian native delivered the everyday family dynamic masterfully, as though she’d written about actual individuals after interviewing and researching their lives extensively. That’s the impression I got, and it’s an obstinate one. The unique culture and geography of the land, as well as its precarious weather patterns, were depicted with precision.

A common concept is that The Thorn Birds is a romance novel. That proved to be a vast misconception. Was it a factor? Yes, but only in the sense that love was a natural part of life, and the importance of learning from one’s past mistakes and experiences. With love, one could thrive. Not surprisingly, amor was a recurring theme—unrequited; genuine and long lasting; a love tainted with obligation. All three were illuminated.

The author didn’t stop there, though. Suffering in a myriad of ways sprouted again and again: in the throws of human relations. In emotion, mental, psychological, and physical anguish. Suffering in the Catholic religion, which honed in on two concurrent themes. By exploring the richness of said themes, McCullough posed some profound notions about humanity. What did it actually mean to be human? What did that entail? How did one achieve those ends?

Meggie’s husband, Luke O’Neil, was in direct opposition to the term humane. His actions, and more specifically his INactions, were physically repulsive. He oppressed her. Oppression was also explored, on a much larger scale, in the center section, where brothers Jims and Patsy Cleary enlisted in the military, and fought in World II. They experienced first-hand action, and unsurprisingly, their lives were forever changed, as war is wont to do. Oppression was a constant, palpable antagonist.

For me, one of the most interesting themes was obligation. It popped up frequently, revolving around interpersonal relationships. One could agrue that Father Ralph de Bricassart felt a sense of obligation toward God. Taking it another step further, the same could be said about Feona’s grandson, Dane O’Neil.

n  The heart of the mattern

In the opening scene, McCullough introduced the reader to Meghann (“Meggie”) Cleary, the novel’s primary protagonist, in a sequence of events which set the tone in terms of historical authenticity, setting, and most poigantly, in young Meggie’s character. Her naivette was on full display as her four year old self yearned desperately for a beautiful doll whom she’d named Agnes, and in the cruelty of her older brothers, Hughie and Jack, and finally, in the heroism of Frank. He was, in many ways, the family scapegoat. To everyone except his doting mother, Fiona, and youngest sibling, Meggie. Alongside her aloof mother, they were the only females in a large family of men; in a testosterone dominated world.

A generation later, Justine O’Neil emerged--vibrant, elusive, charismatic and strange—the polar opposite of her mother. Justine represented that era’s black sheep, almost as if to fill the void left by her uncle, Frank. However, she unknowingly took his legacy and made it her own. Where he was doing what was right and that which came naturally to him, Justine was blatantly, even disrespectfully at times, rebellious. Though she did so in ways that never betrayed her character; she was always true. Essentially, she didn’t choose rebelliousness simply to be a rebel. She wasn’t attention-seeking. For those reasons (amongst others,) she was my most beloved character. I admired her fierce independence and her unwillingness to conform. And because she refused to let her opinions remain silent. She was also bizarre, and I loved that, too. I saw a lot of myself in her.

n  ”I doubt myself, Rain. I always have. I probably always will.”n

The last forty pages filled me with trepidation. So much, in fact, that I was reluctant to rush through to the end. I’m a procrastinator by nature, but that was perhaps the only time I’d set any book aside for longer than a month, when I was that close to finishing it. I think it was more than fear, though. Simply put, as cliché as the term is, I didn’t want it to end. Truly, I didn’t. There’s no other novel to compare to The Thorn Birds, nor another writer quite like Colleen McCullough. There’s not another fictional family like the Cleary’s or, from Fiona’s Irish roots, the Armstrong’s.

n  

n    Mid-April was her favorite time, the period of daffoldils and azaleas and flowering trees. There was one spot she thought she could lay some claim to being one of the world’s loveliest sights on a small, intimate scale, so she down on the damp ground, an audience of one, to drink it in. As far as the eyes could see stretched a sheet of daffodils; in mid-distance the nodding yellow horde of bells flowed around a great flowering almond, its branches so heavy with white blooms they dipped downward in arching falls as perfect and still as a Japanese painting. Peace. It was so hard to come by.n  

n

As fleshed out as most of the characters were, McCullough could’ve done more with them. Instead of the ill-treatment of Patsy and Jims (who suffered grievous injuries in the war,) she could’ve finished their stories, complete with the highs and lows of everyday life. Or she could’ve refrained from making Frank’s departure permanent. She also really should have developed Padraic “Paddy” Cleary’s eldest sister, Mary Carson, more extensively because there was genuine mystery surrounding her (though she wasn’t cardboard flat,) especially in light of her unique perceptions and wisdom. There were a few other characters with unfinished stories, but you get the gist, don’t you?

I’m not saying that every character should be wrapped up nicely, but there’s a difference in achieving that, and practically dropping them, with an infrequent, obligatory mention. A big difference, indeed.

n  n    …Let the cycle renew itself with unknown people. I did it all to myself, I have no one else to blame. And I cannot regret one single moment of it.
The bird was the thorn in its breast, it follows an immutable law; it is by it knows not what to impale itself, and die singing. At the very instant the thorn enters there is no awareness in it of the dying to come; it simply sings and sings until there is not the life left to utter another note. But we, when we put the thorns in our breasts, we know. We understand. And still we do it. Still we do it. n  n

پرندگان خارزار، هفتصد صفحه ی تلخ و شیرین رو همراه خودش داشت؛ صفحاتی برای تجربه‌ ی تمامِ احساساتی که طی یک عمر تجربه‌ خواهیم کرد، با تمام اشک‌ها و لبخند‌هاش.
از سال هزار و نهصد و پانزده همراه تک‌ تک اعضای خانواده ی "کلیری" بودم، تا هزار و نهصد و شصت و‌ نه. پنجاه و‌ چهار سال از اتفاقاتی که بهشون گذشت، از لبخندها، شکست‌ها، امیدها، از دست دادن‌ها و احساس‌شون خوندم و نزدیکی‌شون رو عمیقا حس کردم.

اولش همراه یه خانواده ی هفت نفره بودم. مادر، پدر، چهار برادر، و یه خواهر؛ مگان. ولی دوست نداره مگان صداش کنید، مگی رو‌ ترجیح میده.
مگی چهار ساله، صفحه ی اول کتاب من رو مجذوب خودش کرد. نشون به اون‌ نشون که من قرار نبود این کتاب رو بخونم، فقط میخواستم از فضای کتاب باخبر بشم همین. ولی درگیرش شدم و ادامه دادم؛ درگیر جوی که دل‌تنگش بودم... هزار و نهصد با جو متفاوت، گرم، ساده و دوست‌داشتنیش.

مگی تا پایان تک‌دختر این خانواده خواهد بود... با مشکلات خاص خودش، و با مادری که فرزندان پسرش رو یه معجزه می‌بینه و حواسش بهشون هست، اما مگیِ مظلوم، آروم و همیشه راضیِ داستان رو‌ دچار سرنوشت تلخ تمام دختران می‌دونه و توجه چندانی بهش نداره.

n  
Why is it that every time I think I’ve got my life under control, something happens?
n

با این کتاب و طی این پنجاه و چهار سال، زندگی تک‌تک شخصیت‌ها رو دنبال کردم، اما مگی همیشه در مرکز داستان بود. مگی و تجربیاتش، احساسش، و عشقش به رالف؛ عشق ممنوعه‌ به یک‌ کشیش. عشقی که سنگ بنای این داستان بود اما هرگز نخواست تمام داستان رو به خودش اختصاص بده.
از خود داستان نمیشه بیشتر گفت، که تمام مزه ی کتاب به اتفاقاتیه که بدون آمادگی و در لحظه اتفاق میفتن؛ ساده و دردناک و گاهی با لبخند‌. و‌ من در کمال تعجب هرگز جو کتاب رو پر از غم و افسرده‌کننده ندیدم؛ حتی با وجود تمام سختی‌هایی که شخصیت‌ها ازش عبور می‌کردن.

پرندگان خارزار بعد از گذشت چند فصل، دیگه برای من یه کتاب ساده نبود؛ و من به این باور رسیدم که تمام شخصیت‌ها واقعی هستن و‌ جلوی چشم‌هام جون گرفتن. که باور دارم مگی، رالف، فی، فرانک، جاستین، دین... تک‌تک شخصیت‌ها سال‌ها قبل توی استرالیا بودن، و سطر به سطر این داستان افسانه‌وار رو‌ نفس کشیدن. و حالا منم با نگاه‌شون دیدم و احساس‌شون رو احساس کردم.

و میخوام سعی کنم اینو یادم نگه دارم؛ ویژگی‌های شخصیتی‌ای هستن که حالا در اطرافیانم می‌بینم و به خودم میگم در آینده که سنم بالاتر بره من هرگز اون کارها رو انجام نخواهم داد، هرگز اون ویژگی‌ها رو‌ نخواهم داشت. اما کی می‌دونه وقتی اون آینده و اون شرایط برسه، فراموش نمی‌کنم قولم رو؟ که گاهی سرنوشت جوری به بازیت‌ می‌گیره که ممکنه، چشم‌ که باز کنی، ببینی تبدیل شدی به همون چیزی که ازش فرار می‌کردی.

n  
I know, I know…. Each of us has something within us which won’t be denied, even if it makes us scream aloud to die. We are what we are, that’s all.
n

و اما چرا پرنده ی خارزار؟ این پرنده، وقتی برای اولین بار پرواز میکنه، به دنبال خارزار می‌گرده. وقتی که پیداش کرد، همونجا و بین خارها، خاری درون سینه‌ش فرو‌ میره. و شروع به آواز خوندن می‌کنه. اون خار، جلوی پرنده رو نمی‌گیره و تا لحظه ی مرگ به آواز خوندن ادامه میده. درد می‌کشه، اما ادامه میده. شاید مثل ما... مثل ما که خیلی وقت‌ها نتیجه کارها و حرف‌هامون رو می‌دونیم، اما این دونستن هیچ تاثیری نداره... پس اون کار رو انجام میدیم، اون حرف رو‌ می‌زنیم. درد می‌کشیم. و‌ ما با نفس‌هامون، هزاران هزار خار رو در سینه‌مون فرو‌ می‌کنیم، و ادامه میدیم... خارها ما رو‌ متوقف نمی‌کنن. و شاید اگه یه نگاه به خودمون بندازیم، می‌بینیم از خارهایی که خودمون تو‌ سینه فرو کردیم درد می‌کشیم، اما مهم نیست. چون همیشه به خودمون میگیم تموم این خارها ارزشش رو داشت. که شاید بدون این خارها زندگی‌مون بی‌معنی بود.

چون تک‌تک‌ این خارها هستن که با دردشون اجازه نمیدن به خواب بریم، و ما رو بیدار نگه میدارن، زنده نگه‌ میدارن. و بالاخره ما تا اون‌روز ادامه میدیم که در نهایت حس کنیم به قدر کافی با خارهای تو سینه‌مون آواز خوندیم؛ به قدر کافی زندگی‌شون کردیم... پس آروم می‌گیریم و اجازه میدیم زندگی‌مون با تمام خارهای توی سینه‌ به پایان برسه، خارهایی که باید امیدوار باشیم تحمل‌شون، ارزشش رو داشته.

n  
When we put the thorns in our breasts, we know. We understand. And still we do it. Still we do it.
n

تقول الأسطورة ان هناك طائر غناؤه أعذب من غناء كل المخلوقات
يغني مرة واحدة في حياته، أغنية جميلة لا يستطيع طير أن يغني مثلها.

يغادر هذا الطير عشه ويفتش عن شجرة شوك مميزة . يحلق ويطير ولا يستريح حتى يجدها

عندئذ يزقزق فرحاً ويتنقل راقصاً بين أشواكها، ثم يختار أطول وأدق شوكة ويرمي بصدره فوقها ويغرد تغريداً عذباً وشجياً أحلى من شدو السنونو والشحرورو وهو ينزف حتى الموت. يغرد أغنية ثمنها الحياة

فتصغي الأرض بسكون إلى تغريده وتبتسم السماء

n  n

يتلقى بادي كليري ، والد ميغي الفلاح في نيوزيلندا من اصل ايرلندي ، فجأة ، رسالة من أخته الكبرى الثرية ماري التي تدعوه هو و زوجته وأطفالهم للعيش في ممتلكاتها ومزارعها الأسترالية والعمل لها بصفتهم ورثتها الوحيدين , ولأنها فرصة العمر ليخرجوا من فقرهم وشقاهم , يقبل بادي على الفور العرض


بعد تحمل رحلة الإبحار الطويلة والمرهقة إلى استراليا ، يتم الترحيب بهم من قبل كاهن يُدعى الأب رالف دو بريكاسارت

الذي يشعر بإتصال خاص وغريب مع ميغي الصغيرة ذات ال4 سنوات فور مقابلتها بين حفنة الأولاد التي انجباها في و بادي

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بعد سنين نمضيها مع العائلة وعند بلوغ ميغي ال16 من العمر , تنفذ ماري الشيطانة بلا رحمة خطتها الشريرة بتخيير الأب رالف بين جعل املاكها تصبح للكنيسة الكاثوليكية الرومانية بعد موتها مما يدعم مكانته ويرقيه في مرتبته الكهوتية لينتقل لروما ويصبح الأسقف رالف , وهو ماطمح له

مع حرمان عائلة بادي ماوعدتهم به بعد السنوات التي عملوها بها من اجلها في المزرعة الكبيرة وادارتها وبعد اقتلاعهم لجذورهم في نيوزيلاندا

ام بجعل ممتلكاتها كما وعدت تصبح لعائلة اخيها بادي بعد موتها وبذلك سيبقى على مرتبته ككاهن عادي في دروغيدا الاسترالية قرب ميغي



n  n

n  n



هذه الخطة الشيطانية اتت بدافع الغيرة التي شعرت بها ماري من علاقة ميغي ورالف العميقة والوثيقة، والرومانسية التي تراها تتطور بينهما على مر السنين وهي التي في سبعينياتها من العمر وجدت نفسها مفتونة بالأب رالف

أُجبر الأب رالف على الاختيار بين المرأة التي يحبها والكنيسة التي أقسم عليها


فمع أن رالف كاهن كاثوليكي عهد حياته للرب و أصبح من المحظور عليه عيش اية علاقة مع امرأة او الزواج منها , إلا انه هو الذي عجن ميغي بيديه , مذ لحظة وصولها لإستراليا واستقباله للعائلة لم يستطع ان يبتعد عنها ويشاهدها وهي تكبر وان يخلص نفسه من أسر العواطف التي لاتفارقه وهي تنمو وتزذهر امامه



وانتصرت طموحات الأب رالف ، وبقي مع الكنيسة ، وأصبح في النهاية كاردينالًا في روما

بعد موت ماري قال الأب رالف لميغي بحزن :” لقد بعتك ياميغي من اجل الملايين” .

. لم تفهم ميغي حينها قصده , فماذا كانت خياراته ؟ هو يعلم انه لن يستطيع ان يجتمع بميغي طوال حياته

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يصارع رالف نفسه بين طموحاته للوصول للفاتيكان ومشاعره تجاهها.

قلب الرواية قصة حب ميغي التي لا يمكنها أبدًا امتلاك الرجل الذي تعشقه بشدة ، ورالف دو بريكاسارت وصراعه مع رغبة المكانة والحب

ولكن شغفه بميجي سيتبعه طوال الأيام في حياته.

وحبه سيظل في قلبها , سيظل الى ان تحصل منه على مالايستطيع اخذه ونكرانه

وستستمر قصتهما وسنشاهد كيف الحياة تسخر منهما

على مدار أكثر من خمسة عقود ، توضح لنا الكاتبة الرائعة كولين كيف تغير قصة الحب المأساوية مسار حياة شخصياتها

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كاهن يقوده الطموح وتعذبه الشهوة لا يعرف كيف يتوقف عن الرغبة
فتاة مهووسة برجل لا يمكنها الحصول عليه


هناك الكثير من الحب والخسارة والألم والأمل في هذه الرواية الملحمية.

رواية معقدة وجميلة و مختلفة , إنها كلاسيكية خالدة مليئة بالعاطفة والقوة


شعرت ان هذه الرواية تحفر نفسها بداخلي بكل حب وعاطفة

ملحمة و تحفة مؤثرة لا تُنسى

تغطي هذه الملحمة العائلية حوالي 60 عامًا من حياة عائلة كليري


منذ ان بدأت في القراءة وانا اتعمد ان لا انهيها بشكل سريع لإستمتع بها بأطول فترة ممكنة لما جعلتني اشعر به من مشاعر متخبطة

كان هناك الكثير من الشخصيات التي لا تنسى في هذا الكتاب

هناك الكثير من المشاهد في هذا الكتاب لن تُنسى أبدًا في ذاكرتي , مازلت استذكر العديد منها في مخيلتي واريد ان اظل اتذكرها وأنظر لهذه الرواية مستقبلًا على أنها صديق حميم جدًا واعود لها كل فترة

منذ مدة لم أشعر بكتاب يجعلني مدهوشة لهذه الدرجة وشغوفة بقرائته , حرفيًا هذا الكتاب ماكنت ابحث عنه منذ مدة

نعم من الجنون ان يبلغ حوالي ال1300 صفحة , ولكني ممتنة من قلبي على هذه الصفحات الثرية التي قرأتها واجد نفسي حزينة لإنتهائها , فأسلوب كولين الرشيق وطريقتها السردية الرائعة تأسر القارئ و تجعله غائب عن الزمان والمكان

إنه ليس كتابًا قصيرًا ، لكنه يستحق كل دقيقة تقضيها في قراءة هذه الملحمة

.

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كل شخصية من شخصيات هذه الرواية تحمل قنديلاً مليئاً بالزيت وتسير في الدروب المظلمة تريد الحب، لكنها تتصرف كالعمياء لأن القنديل بلا فتيل، لأن الحب الذي تريده متعذر وممنوع ومستحيل

العمة ماري الثرية تتخلى عن المزرعة لأجل الحب من قس بعمر حفيدها

الأم فيونا غرقت في حب رجل متزوج حتى أنجبت فرانك ثم قبلت الزواج ببادي العامل الفقير

ابنتها ميغي ارتكبت خطأ والدتها نفسه، وأحبت من كرّس نفسه للكنيسة. ولم تتراجع حتى بعد زواجها.

القس رالف يريد أن يكون إنساناً خارقاً ورجلاً عادياً.

يريد الأب بادي الفقير أن تلد زوجته مثل الغنمة كل موسم!

لوك يريد أن تدر ميغي الحليب (المال) دون حمل

كل هذه الشخصيات أصناف من طيور الشوك، إنها تبحث عن أشواكها وتصنعها بأياديها، وهي تترنم دون وعي منها بأنشودة الحياة.



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إن الطير الذي يغرز الشوكة في صدره , يتبع بعد ذلك قانونًا ثابتًا يفرض نفسه عليه , لا يعلم مالذي يدفعه الى غرز الشوكة في صدره , فيموت وهو يغني , وفي اللحظة التي تخترقه بها الشوكة لا يعلم ان الموت قادم , ولكنه يغرد ويغرد إلى ان لا تبقى فيها ذرة من الحياة لنغمة أخرى .

أما نحن , عندما نغرز الأشواك في صدورنا , فإننا نعلم ونفهم ومع ذلك نفعله

.... نحن نفعله مع ذلك

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Adorei. Adorei. Adorei. É um livro que prende da primeira à última página. É uma história sobre sofrimento, persistência e resiliência. Retrata a história de uma família, inicialmente residente na Nova Zelândia, mas que cedo parte para a Austrália (e como há tanto tempo eu anseio por visitar a Austrália...). Aí relata essencialmente a vida rural, de muita poeira e ambiente cinzento, longas extensões de terra árida, com condições meteorológicas extremas, intercalando épocas de profundas secas com enormes cheias. Quando ao enredo, é constituído por personagem de personalidade forte, orgulhosas e que tentam superar as adversidades de forma bastante introspectiva. Escrito num estilo soberbo, com um sentido de humor sofisticado. Pessoalmente identifiquei-me com algumas características da personagem Justine, especialmente com as suas dúvidas e inseguranças. Foi bom poder mergulhar nesta história, ao ponto de ansiar sofregamente por todos os momentos livres, para poder discorrer mais algumas páginas. Em muitos momentos, não resisti a saltitar umas páginas à frente para bisbilhotar o que se ia passar e é algo que nunca faço, mas a curiosidade era mais que muita. Ler assim compulsivamente é bom, permite-nos sentir aquela história em pleno. Felizmente nem todos os livros me encantam dessa forma, em parte ainda bem, senão deixava de ter vida para além do trabalho e leitura.
Tenho muita vontade de ler mais livros desta autora, pois a sua escrita e capacidade de contar uma história, surpreendeu-me muito. Também estou certa de que vou querer voltar a ler este livro.
Deixo aqui excertos do início e fim do livro:

"Existe uma lenda acerca de um pássaro que só canta uma vez na vida, com mais suavidade que qualquer outra criatura sobre a Terra. A partir do momento em que deixa o ninho, começa a procurar um espinheiro, e só descansa quando o encontra. Depois, cantando entre os galhos selvagens, empala-se no acúleo mais agudo e comprido. E, morrendo, sublima a própria agonia e solta um canto mais belo que o da cotovia e o do rouxinol. Um canto superlativo, cujo preço é a existência. Mas o mundo inteiro pára para ouvi-lo, e Deus sorri no céu. Pois o melhor só se adquire à custa de um grande sofrimento... Pelo menos é o que diz a lenda.
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O pássaro com o espinho cravado no peito segue uma lei imutável; impelido por ela, não sabe o que é empalar-se, e morre cantando. No instante em que o espinho penetra, não há nele consciência do morrer futuro; limita-se a cantar e canta até que não lhe sobra vida para emitir uma única nota. Mas nós, quando enfiamos os espinhos no peito, nós sabemos, compreendemos. E assim mesmo fazemo-lo."

A meio do livro, tal lenda é esmiuçada da seguinte forma:
"Cada um de nós tem dentro de si alguma coisa que não pode ser negada, ainda que nos faça gritar, gritar, gritar, até ao fim. Somos o que somos, e pronto. Como a velha lenda celta do pássaro com o espinho no peito que canta até morrer, porque precisa de fazê-lo, porque é levado a isso. Podemos saber que vamos errar antes até de cometer o erro, mas o conhecimento de nós mesmos não afecta nem altera o resultado. Cada qual entoa o seu cântico, convencido de que é o mais maravilhoso que o mundo já ouviu. Não vês? Criámos os nossos espinhos e nunca nos detivemos para avaliar o custo. A única coisa que podemos fazer é sofrer a dor e dizer intimamente que valeu a pena."

I feel rather mature and grown up after finishing this book - I'm trying to figure out why because I am not young!?!?! Maybe it feels like I accomplished something. I read "a classic". Or it may have something to do with being 8 years old and seeing images flickering by on the TV screen while my mom watched...maybe listening to my Mom talk about the mini series with her friends. In my mind this book is an "old book" - one of those novels that is big and long and old!! But I have wanted to read it for so many years. I am so glad I got around to it!!

I listened to the audio and it was a fantastic narration! 22 hours long, seems daunting, but I enjoyed every word!!! This is a saga - really it's very akin to a prime time soap opera like Dallas or Knots Landing. Or maybe that is just me picturing my Mother again?!?!

So thankful to have taken the plunge and read this. I am not usually one to easily read a book that spans multiple generations, characters, and interwoven stories. I tell myself I don't have the patience - but that's not really it. I am patient for any fantastic book - and this one was!! The author had a beautiful way of telling stories, showing characters, and putting you right in the setting - I loved it!! It was the perfect blend of family, farm, real life, fears, betrayal, riches, honor and love. I really need to go back and pick some more of these oldies!!!

نسخه‌ای که من ازش خوندم خیلی قدیمی و دو جلد کت و کلفت بود، نمی‌دونم این همونه یا نه، برای همین امتیاز نمی‌دم. اون نسخه رو من تو عالم بچگی خیلی دوست داشتم. شاید سه‌ی رو به بالا بهش می‌دادم.

This book keeps showing up in my newsfeed. I watched the miniseries with my mom when I was in junior high. Soon after I poured through the pages and devoured every word. It was one of my favorite books then. Maybe my GR Feed is telling me to read it again!

فی بافتن را از سر گرفت و به نرمی گفت: "پس وقتی ما برویم، دیگر کسی نخواهد بود. دیگر درویدا نخواهد بود.آه، چرا، یک خط را در کتاب‌های تاریخ به آن اختصاص خواهند داد، و روزی مرد جوان و کوشایی به گیلی خواهد آمد تا هر کسی را که چیزی به یاد داشته باشد پیدا کند و با او گفت‌وگو بکند، برای کتابی که قرار است درباره درویدا این آخرین دامداری قدرتمند نیوساوث ولز، رج بزند. ولی هیچ‌یک از خوانندگانش هیچ‌گاه نخواهند فهمید که آنجا واقعا چگونه بوده است. چرا که نمی‌توانند بفهمند. باید پاره‌ای از آن می‌بودند تا به آن پی ببرند."


بعضی از کتابا هستن که خیلی نمیشه درموردشون صحبت کرد، چون از خودشون ردی روی قلبت میذارن که باید حس کنید و تو قالب کلمات نمی‌گنجه.

کتاب داستان پرفراز و نشیب سه نسل از خانواده پرجمعیت کلیری‌هاست، یا بهتر بگم هسته اصلی کتاب تنها دختر این خانواده "مگی"ست. ابتدای کتاب نامه‌ای از خواهر بزرگ پدی (پدر خانواده) به دست کلیری‌ها می‌رسه و در پی یک زندگی بهتر از نیوزلند به استرالیا مهاجرت می‌کنند.
با مهاجرت کلیری‌ها به استرالیا داستان کم‌کم از فضای نوستالژیک و خانوادگی خارج می‌شه و کلیسا و عشق و سیاست به ترتیب وارد کتاب می‌شه.
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پرنده خارزار یک کتاب دوجلدی در یک جلده!
جلد اول ۴ بخش و ۱۳ فصل داره، هر بخش به یک شخصیت تعلق داره و محور اصلی داستان تقریبا همون شخصه. جلد دوم هم ۳ بخش داره و باز به همین‌صورته.
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جلد اول با عشق تموم میشه و جلد دوم با جنگ جهانی دوم و قحطی شروع میشه و بی رحمانه یادآوری می‌کنه که زندگی قرار نیست همیشه آروم و قشنگ باشه و اتفاقا خیلی بی‌رحم‌تر از چیزیه که ما فکر می‌کنیم.

حدودا دو فصل ابتدای این بخش پر از اطلاعات تاریخی و سیاسیه، و به طور کلی از ابتدا تا انتهای کتاب در پس‌زمینه داستان می‌تونید یه اطلاعات کلی از تاریخ و تحولات استرالیا در قرن بیستم کسب کنید.
و خب حرف از تاریخ شد، و تاریخ دوباره تکرار میشه.
انگار اتفاقات زندگی مادر برای دختر به ارث می‌رسه و... (خودتون بخونید من که نباید همه‌شو بگم!)

حضور مگی در جلد دوم کم‌رنگ میشه و بیشتر درمورد فرزندانش می‌خونیم، هم‌چنین از استرالیا دور می‌شیم و به واتیکان، رم و لندن سفر می‌کنیم. بهتره بگم این بخش دختر جا پای مادرش میذاره و حضور جاستین دختر مگی پررنگ‌تره و در اغلب اتفاقات حضور داره.

نکته قابل توجه در جلد دوم کتاب، مقایسه زندگی مگی و جاستین بود.تحولاتی که برای جامعه زنان در این مدت رخ داده و طرز تفکرات و... به‌خوبی مشهود و قابل لمس بود.

در نهایت نمی‌تونم بگم این کتاب حکایت خیلی جدید و متفاوتی داره یا شما رو با هیجانش میخکوب می‌کنه اما این کتاب دقیقا همون کتابیه که بعد از یه روز پرمشغله، باید توی سکوت شب خوند، ذهن رو رها کرد و از طبیعت وحشی استرالیا لذت بُرد.
شما بزرگ‌شدن و قد‌کشیدن شخصیت‌ها رو می‌بینید، از تصمیم‌هاشون باخبرید و منتظر عواقبش هستید. با این کتاب خواهید خندید و خواهید گریست و احتمالا از دست رالف و لوک انقدر حرص بخورید.
و فضاسازی و جزئیات کتاب اونقدر قشنگ و کامل و به‌جاست که حس می‌کردم همین الان با کلیری‌ها در درویدا هستم.
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من آدمی نیستم که به ادبیات کلاسیک علاقه‌مند باشه و احتمالا بدونید چقدر سخته واسم خوندن کتابای کلاسیک اما پرنده خارزار کتابی بود که من رو تا صبح بیدار نگه داشت.
پس اگه مثل من کلاسیک‌خون نیستید، احتمالا این کتاب رو بپسندید و اگه طرفدار این سبک هستید لذت خوندنش رو از خودتون دریغ نکنید.
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پ.ن۱: گویا کتاب یک مینی سریال داره، اما بعید میدونم نگاه کنم چون دیدم رالف توی سریال به جذابیت رالف توی کتاب نیست و نمی‌خوام تصوراتم خراب شه.

پ.ن۲: می‌گن این کتاب و برباد رفته شباهت‌های زیادی دارند، ایشالله بعدش بریم سراغ اون. (البته الان نه، شاید سال دیگه)

پ.ن۳: فکر می‌کنم کتاب به یک ویرایش نیاز داره، ترجمه خوب و روانی داره اما یک دستی به سر و روش کشیده بشه شاید بد نباشه!

Given the epigraph (about a bird who sings the most beautiful song in existence, but only when it impales itself on a thornbush), this book thinks it's about a family that repeatedly suffers from self-inflicted wounds by making the wrong choice.

I think it's actually about a family that repeatedly suffers from self-inflicted wounds by not actually getting around to doing anything.

I swear to God, this is the most passive group of ninnies. I guess it all works out in the end after the third generation finally does make a choice of her own and gets to be happy, but she's manipulated into that choice, so I'm not sure even that counts.

Spoilers: Grandma is forced to marry the wrong guy. Grandpa doesn't actually woo her or anything--his employer basically tells him to marry her, so he does. Son 1 does manage to get himself imprisoned for murder, but it happens off screen, so who knows what actually happened there. The rest of the sons...never do anything. Everyone inherits a giant farm just for being related to a crazy lady, but get semi-disinherited for something not their fault and don't fight it. Family priest gets manipulated into inheriting. Daughter gets seduced by random dude and kinda tricked into marrying him. Then gets convinced by other people to go home, after other people set it up for her to sleep with priest. Grandpa dies accidentally. Son dies accidentally. Grandson dies technically saving someone but really accidentally. No one actually comes up with a plan for their life and actually does it--the entire plot consists of things happening to them, not them doing something on purpose. Arrgh!

It's well written enough, and I did want to know what happened to the characters. But when I found out, I mostly just wanted to strangle them. Yes, the wounds are all self-inflicted. But they're not even self-inflicted for good reasons. These are the most un-self-aware characters ever. You know what? They deserve to suffer. At any point, most of them could have ended their suffering in fifteen minutes by removing their heads from their asses. There are plenty of people who suffer tragically and nobly. These ain't it. Grow up, people. There's no reason to be so miserable.

Oh my fucking God. This book. I was standing in the kitchen this morning angrily chopping veg and I couldn't work out why, then I realised, it was this book just making me irrationally angry, when I wasn't even reading it!

Tragedies within the first 50 pages, let's list them.

1. She gets a lovely doll!
1.5 Doll is trashed.
2. She gets sent to school at last!
2.5 School is terrible she's beaten every day.
3. It's ok she makes an awesome friend!
3.5 Friend hates her, fuck you, nits.
4. She realllly wants a blue teaset.
4.5 Family gets themselves into debt buying it, she no longer wants it and it brings her no joy.
5. I'm allowed to go to Church with the others!
5.5 Fuck Church is boring I will never achieve spiritual fulfillment.
6. My parents don't love me but my brother does. :3
6.5 My brother has tried to run off to War and is now irreparably broken.

That was basically the whole book, over and over again. There was some shit about how priests should be allowed to marry because what is God if not Love and some other stuff about being married to the land and where babies come from. but it was mainly a series of setting up good things and then knocking them over again like a game of tragic-bowling.

At one point they meet the priest, he is like "fuck your hair is sexy darlin'" ignoring the fact she is Nine. He lusts after her for the rest of the book but he is Married to God and the author takes pains to mention how he can never get it up, several times. Apart from about 4 days in a honeymoon hotel bareback where he never again considers he could have made her pregnant, even when being faced with his own son for several hours a day for 10 years. Nobody ever says "fuck man he looks just like you," and never once does he think "You know she left her husband right close to when this kid was conceived right about the time of those 4 days in a honeymoon hotel"

Oh man I'm not going to go into it. Don't read it. Please.

This is my kind of book: an epic family saga with a strong sense of place. I hate to give it only three stars, but I've had to conclude that while it has its strengths, it doesn't live up to what it could have been.

The Thorn Birds starts off excellently, detailing the day-to-day life of a family struggling to get by in early twentieth century New Zealand. It's well-written, it feels very realistic, and there's a strong sense of place. There's believable conflict among the family members without any of them being unsympathetic. There's an interesting and unflinching look at the effects of strict gender roles on women's lives: something we don't see in most historical fiction, which tends to feature the elite rather than regular folks. (I'll read about the regular folks, any day, and McCullough does it well.) When the family picks up and moves to Australia, I was still enthralled. I loved the descriptions of life in the Outback and was drawn into the family's story.

Somewhere along the way though, things went wrong. The characters' personalities and relationships began to lose credibility with me; several times I just couldn't swallow that people in these situations would relate to each other the way they do. Meggie's relationships with both her mother and her daughter felt especially bizarre, full of contrived antagonism far beyond what one would expect. (In Justine's case, evidently she dislikes Meggie from birth. Ooookay.) Meanwhile, some of the more colorful personalities, such as Frank and Luke, fall off the face of the earth, while the brothers lose what personality they once had and slowly merge into one person, as if McCullough changed her mind about how many brothers the story required but couldn't be bothered to get rid of the extras. As for the romance between Meggie and Ralph, while at first it raised some interesting questions, it never captured my emotions and became increasingly repetitive.

Which is not to say that this is an awful book, because it isn't. It's well-written and the thematics are strong. The sense of place persists throughout, and it's fascinating to see how the coming of new technology affects the Outback. The main characters are decently well-developed, and while the book is long, the plot remains interesting throughout. I finished it in a few days. Still, if you have not yet read the classic historical epics, like Isabel Allende's House of the Spirits or Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind, I'd recommend going with those first.

The book was a good love story, a young girl and an Irish priest romance together...I think I will read another of Colleen McCullough books...also I would like to see the old television series..