Customer Reviews

Right of Thirst: A Novel (P.S.)

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Right of Thirst is a masterpiece. It has the two essential attributes of any great novel: it is exquisitely written and it deals with profoundly universal themes. The book is also extremely timely, in that it deals with a region of the world very much in today's news, the vague border regions of Pakistan, never actually named in the novel, in which Americans have inserted themselves in response to the disquieting geo-political forces that buffet our country and the world.

How does one do "good" in one's life, how do we make a difference if we see our lives wanting, are universal questions for us all, and ones that serious novels ask and attempt to answer. How does America, or more specifically, Americans, do "good" in far away, vaguely sinister and foreboding and dangerous parts of the world is also such a question. Frank Huyler confronts these issues with stupendous literary talent and the sensibility of an intensely caring and proficient medical doctor. The results, which have sometimes been compared to the works of another doctor/writer, Anton Chekhov, are extraordinary. This is a book that simply demands to be read by a wide audience. The blurbs on its cover are not smoke: extremely talented and well-known fellow writers are deeply impressed by Huyler's work, and all of them appear to feel that this is a book for our times and beyond that simply must find a way to break free of the commercial forces that tend to limit the success of quality in the American market place.

If you value unusually beautiful prose, insight into both the smallest details of life, how the collar on a poor hotel employee in a posh large hotel fits, to larger details, what the tendons of an amputated leg look like, what it feels like to be under fire, to even larger themes like aging, and love, and the feeling s of failure, and how to try to make a difference---- and if you would want each one of these registers to be described absolutely perfectly in prose that makes you stop on each page and savor some special moment, somewhat as in Fitzgerald, then you simply must read this book and pass it on to friends whom you value. It is that good.

Empty following the slow death of his wife and on sabbatical to put his life back together, cardiologist Charles Anderson finds himself volunteering as the doctor on site at a refugee camp on the other side of the globe. But when the refugees never arrive and tensions rise to dangerous proportions with a bordering country, he finds that even his altruistic intentions don't follow their planned course.

This is one of those books that will stay with you long after you read the last page. The depth of character is such that I still find myself wondering what is going on in their lives before I remember they only exist on paper. Even beyond the basic plot, there are statements and insights commenting on the human condition that will stun you in both their simplicity and depth. I find myself recounting some of these things, unable to put into words what was so eloquently written and, giving up, telling the listener, "Never mind. Just read the book. You'll know what I mean."

This is a haunting story of a man trying to escape himself when all that he has done to make himself seems so pointless. It is a story of husbands and fathers, servants and masters, stature and status. It is achingly beautiful and horrifyingly ugly. And shows just what man will do for his family. He paints a fascinating picture of cultural differences through the eyes of his American doctor in the unnamed Islamic country. The struggle. The pride. Striving. Family. And how, even though we are so very different, in the end, we are much the same.

I read the publishers' catalogues and sometimes even their novels, and I have the same reaction over and over: Who are these books for? They surely don't touch me. Family dramas, love stories, thrillers, quests --- somebody must care about them. To me, they take place in fictionland, a world far from the one we're living in.

I'm not saying that novels should be as timely as a Twitter bleat. I'm just dazzled by how religiously novelists ignore the issues we actually think about, the issues that obsess us and keep us up at night. Because it's not like what's happening is a secret. Any writer could have felt the tectonic plates moving these last few years and wonder --- just f'instance --- how your life "matters" when you control so little of it. Or what happens to love when the money goes. Or how a resourceful woman deals with the loss of her access to credit cards, or how a poor person holds on to her values, or what you do to keep your spirits up when the only thing that gets you to your job in the morning is that company-paid health plan.

None of these subjects shows up in the novels that come my way, so I was unnaturally pleased to encounter 'Right of Thirst', which addresses a question that I, for one, think about all the time: Can one person make a difference? Here, that person is Charles Anderson, a cardiologist. In his hospital, his town, his field, he's a somebody, but as the book begins, he feels like a cipher. And rightly so. His wife had a vague pain in her abdomen --- for a year! --- and he dismissed her, thinking she was "imagining things" Now she's freshly in her grave, and he can see, with the clarity of mourning, what a second-rate husband he'd been --- for three decades, he'd given his love to his career and left his wife to raise their son and paint her little portraits.

Meaning! He thirsts for it. And, right on cue, opportunity knocks --- there's been an earthquake in the Middle East, and he can do great work at a refugee camp set up on a remote mountain. No sooner can you say sabbatical than he's off.

Of course, nothing is as promised. The refugees are nowhere to be seen. Romantic temptation is quite present, however, in the personage of Elise, a too-attractive-to-ignore German who's studying the DNA of a mountain tribe. Charles makes a small medical miracle by amputating the leg of a girl who'd die without the operation, but he's disillusioned: "I'd come all this way for an empty tent city and a one-legged girl. A wind-scoured field of stones on the other side of the earth...My plunge into the unknown, my step into this other world, where I hoped to lose myself in an abundance of need -- and so few of my hopes had come true."

But he doesn't get to mope for long. Fighting breaks out. And the book becomes a kind of survival epic, as the American's illusions are stripped from him.

The author is an emergency physician. His medical writing has the feel of authenticity, and his diagnosis of human emotions is sure. He's much traveled in the Middle East, which partly explains the title --- the Prophet Muhammad laid out the rights of the thirsty for the precious resource, water.

I'll spare you the ironic meaning of the title, and my wish that 355 pages were 300, or my slight suspicion that Hemingway is one of Frank Huyler's literary influences. Focus on this: "Right of Thirst" is a serious novel about serious matters. It's not a waste of your time.

Why read this book? Because you won't want to put it down or reach the end. It is a well-told tale about people like us, trying to figure out what really matters in our love- and work-lives. It is also a beautifully-written story about some of today's moral quandries and challenges in offering humanitanian help. The book will make you smile, shudder, and gasp. You won't forget it.

Although the country is never named, The Right of Thirst offers insight into Pakistan, its people, the 60 year conflict with India and the practice of medicine that is a cut above most books on the shelf right now-fiction or non-fiction. I'd heard it was great, so I went to look for it at Barnes and Noble. Unfortunately, it was in the back on a bottom shelf (while a book penned by one of the "Real Housewives of NYC" was front and center). After finishing it, I couldn't help wondering if the publishing industry would be in better shape if every book were as great as the Right of Thirst. I am recommending it to all my friends.

The following two phrases from the "Editorial Reviews" section of this excellent novel's Amazon page both cracked me up and angered me:

1) clear-eyed if occasionally overwrought exploration of grief and redemption
2) perhaps too sincere and sentimental exploration of what limited power any given individual has to change the world.

The second phrase, especially, amused me because I know the author. Too sentimental? In current parlance, that made me LOL.

Why did the reviewer's tossed off lines anger me? I think it is because I can think of few things besides grief, redemption, and the limited power of a given individual has to change the world that are more deserving of detailed, sincere treatment. And Frank Huyler approached those subjects with great art - beautiful art at that - _and_ novelistic craftsmanship.

I found that I didn't just turn the pages of this novel because I wanted to be able to tell a friend that I had indeed read the work he had put such care into. I kept on turning the pages of "Right of Thirst" because the characters to me were real and compelling; the prose beautiful; the story at once provocative and careful _not_ to be overwrought; and the novel's pacing - no exaggeration - to be perfect to this reader (who usually is too tired and worn out in the evenings to plunge into anything longer than 600 words).

If the phrase "examined life" (or any phrase with the same meaning) has ever held meaning to you, then you must read this novel. It won't leave you with neatly packaged answers. But it will illuminate your own search for answers.

Signed, a friend of the author's who, _unlike_ the author, _is_ often guilty of being "too sincere and sentimental".

I picked this book up because the premise intrigued me, and I wasn't disappointed. Full of beautiful writing and great characters, it is at once an adventure story and a contemplative story. With pitch-perfect writing that shows a remarkable command of both language and character, Huyler shows great talent. The last five or so pages are particularly strong. A simple description of an ordinary plane ride -- its sounds, sensations, and sights -- is masterful. I can't wait to read more from this guy.

What happens when you reach the age of 58; your wife dies, your son is distant, and your career seems pointless? I'm not sure younger readers will appreciate the power of this book, but it spoke powerfully to me.

There are only three major characters in The Right of Thirst, but they are all well-drawn, sympathetic, and inspiring. The author has lived all over the world, but I don't know how he invested Elise, the 30ish German grad student, or Sanjit Rai, the Pakistani army officer with such rich humanity.

My main criticism would be political. The two Westerners are both highly critical of Pakistani society and the powerful people within it. They don't seem to recognize that their own countries and powerful people have created most of the problems they are seeing, that the West has, essentially, put these greedy people in power for its own benefit.

But this is not really what the book is about. It's a story of healing and redemption for an injured older guy, and it's powerful and hopeful. A couple of scenes between Dr. Anderson and Elise had me in tears. The Right of Thirst is easy to read, with vivid descriptions that allow readers to see clearly the faraway places it describes. I recommend it for anyone, especially older readers.

Buy this book--you won't want to put it down once you start reading.

The writing is graceful and exerts a tremendous pull on the reader. It's best described as a drawn out study in character and character development. We're used to seeing this in (often) trite "coming of age" tales that feature young kids--but here instead we have a mature, intelligent, educated middle-aged man adjusting to the slings and arrows of life, whether he wants to or not.

We sit on his shoulder as he makes harrowing decisions and suffers self-doubt; we watch him when he's good and true and beautiful, and when he's not. We see him interact, over and over, with the same few side characters, and watch these relationships as they change and grow, and reveal the core personality that carries the novel.
We are privy to his humanity in a way that few novels allow us to be.
There are indeed a few literary oops! moments, and a few editing mistakes as well, but for writing like this I'd overlook it.

Right of Thirst opens with cardiologist Dr. Charles Anderson saying good bye to his wife - as he assists with ending her life.

With her passing, Charles is lost, functioning but not really living. He attends a lecture by Scott Coles, who has started a relief organization to help earthquake victims in a third world country. On a whim, Charles offers to be the doctor of the refugee camp Coles is setting up.

"I suppose another world was what I wanted most."

Charles ends up in an unnamed third world country, high in the mountains, with Scott Cole's girlfriend as the other staff member as well as a resident cook and his nephew. In charge of the camp is military officer Captain Sanjit Rai.

But the refugees don't come. When they attempt to make contact with the local village, Rai discourages them. Anderson's skills are needed to help with a local child, but that is the extent of the use of his medical skills. They are visited by further military personnel, as there may be enemy action in the area, but still the camp remains empty of refugees.

Frank Huyler has created a powerful character driven novel. The interplay between the three main characters, each from a different world and their views on class, aid and life are compelling.

The title 'Right of Thirst' had me mystified in the beginning. It is explained part way through the novel and I think it is the catalyst for the entire plot.

"Our religion came from the desert. From Arabia. Water was very precious to them. And so one of our oldest laws is that we must give water to travelers. that is why we always give tea to our guests."

"Offering tea is an obligation?"

"Yes. In our scripture this is called the right of thirst."

Right of Thirst explores the obligation that Western countries and populace feel to provide aid to countries that they have deemed in need. What happens when that offering is not embraced? Charles has mixed feelings when he is at the camp. He is angry and annoyed at the local population for not being suitably impressed and thankful for what is being done for them.

"What is wrong with you people? Why do you do this? I'd like to know why I came all this way for nothing."

The reply make him even more unhappy.

"We did not ask you to come here. And now that you cannot be a hero, you are angry. You are trying to help yourself, not us."

Huyler's writing is beautiful. The detail and thought in every exchange and description is worth stopping, rereading and savouring. The juxtaposition between Western idealism and Third World reality is explored in this thought provoking and timely novel. Huyler himself is a physician and has lived in various countries. His work has a ring of authenticity. I found it especially interesting as I had just read and reviewed a memoir of a young doctor in a refugee camp.

Highly recommended. . A portion of sales from this book are being donated to ProSorata by the author.