JM: When you were a boy in Kabul, you saw a lot of films, as you have on occasion noted. Could you describe your youthful engagement with movies for us? Did it extend the possibilities of storytelling in your imagination, beyond what you knew from the oral traditions and the classic Persian literature you were exposed to?
KH: Oh, without a doubt. I've been told, and I think I recognize it, that there's a cinematic quality to my writing, with a sense of image and place and scene -- and, some would say, my tendency to finish my books the way Hollywood finishes its films. [LAUGHS] My experience with cinema as a boy was, to say the least, very eclectic, because Afghanistan was at the crossroads of all these different influences. You had the Russians importing Russian films, which I found, at the time at least, dreadfully tedious and plodding and morose. We also, obviously, were greatly influenced by Persian cinema, most of which was family dramas, with lots of fistfights! And, of course, Bollywood, with its over-the-top feast of color and music -- a kind of total sensory gluttony.
Then we had lots of films from the West, from France and also, obviously, from the United States. There seems to me, in retrospect, no rhyme nor reason to the selection of movies that were shown at that time in Afghanistan. You had the very Gothic horror movies of the 1950s, with Christopher Lee as Dracula and so on. You had the Tarzan movies with Johnny Weissmuller, and you had Westerns, both the classics, like The Magnificent Seven, and also B-movies that I recognize from time to time now when I flip through television. It was extremely eclectic. But I loved cinema from a very, very young age, and it's a medium that I continue to admire. And one that I don't eye with any particular suspicion. I know some novelists have an inherent distrust of the medium as an art form, but I don't. I still love film, and I think that my love for cinema undoubtedly influences my writing.