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3.7 AVERAGE
3.7 AVERAGE
RPL 2023 Open Book Challenge- a banned or challenged book
Weird. And on reflection,(after writing a scathing dis of the book) I acknowledge a depth and fascinating narrative that although at times, seemingly disconnected, did carry me forward to its bitter sweet ending. Perhaps I need to read more bestsellers?
Interesting story of an Indian man and his "family" both in India and in England. It's full of sex and sexual innuendo, which must be why it made the banned books list so often. Overall, it's a story of someone who doesn't know where he fits in and all the ways he goes about trying to figure it out.
The books takes a lot longer to read then you think it would. It was tough to get through the beginning because it is very confusing. The timelines jump back and forth and there are a lot of dream sequences throughout the book. In the end it was completely worth it though. The characters were great (and vast), and it is a very original novel. I really like the ending as this isn't really a book you read for the plot, but it still comes together at the end.
61st book of 2024.
The short version: Midnight’s Children is way better. The long version:
I recently read Knife like lots of folks and actually found it made me like Rushdie less. Not that I don’t respect him and everything he has gone through: he is the epitome of resilience and a champion of literature vs ignorance. And it’s no surprise that this book’s reputation proceeds it. I’ve read a few times over the years that it’s a shame this one got so much press and attention, because it’s actually one of his weaker books. Obviously, other people say it’s a masterpiece. Page 1,
It's got all the ingredients of other postmodern beasts. I was surprised how much it reminded me of Pynchon, actually (Rushdie has had the honour of meeting Pynchon, and didn’t say much: “[I] found him very satisfyingly Pynchonesque”. Interestingly, too, Rushdie said once in an interview the book that influenced him the most was Gravity’s Rainbow and he wrote an entire draft of a novel called The Antagonist which was so obviously a copy of TP that it wasn’t publishable — it now resides in the archives of Emory University in Atlanta). And this is not to say Rushdie is a bad writer, but no sentences or passages blew me away like those ones you stumble across in Pynchon out of nowhere that remind you, however frustrating he is, he is very good. Rushdie’s prose is dense, sometimes humorous. I didn’t care for the whole parallel vision plot going on, though I am sure it is chockfull of symbolism that went over my puny head. The magical realism, compared to other writers, didn’t have the depth or awe to it, though I did like certain ideas; I presume there was more symbolism hidden in all the inexplicable details. I thoroughly enjoyed the beginning of the novel and a good portion in the middle, but the bits around it and the ending were disappointing. At times it felt aimless, and Rushdie was excitably leading me on by the hand when I just wanted to slow down or even stop.
But I’m glad I read it, after owning it for so many years. What gave me the kick to do it was something he said in Knife about his books being able to ‘look after themselves’; I like this idea, and think it holds truth. Some books can look after themselves, and I guess I wouldn’t jump to say this isn’t capable of handling itself. It clearly is.
The short version: Midnight’s Children is way better. The long version:
I recently read Knife like lots of folks and actually found it made me like Rushdie less. Not that I don’t respect him and everything he has gone through: he is the epitome of resilience and a champion of literature vs ignorance. And it’s no surprise that this book’s reputation proceeds it. I’ve read a few times over the years that it’s a shame this one got so much press and attention, because it’s actually one of his weaker books. Obviously, other people say it’s a masterpiece. Page 1,
"To be born again," sang Gibreel Farishta tumbling from the heavens, "first you have to die. Hoji! Hoji! To land upon the bosomy earth, first one needs to fly. Tat-taa! Taka-thun! How to ever smile again, if first you won't cry? How to win the darling's love, mister, without a sigh? Baba, if you want to get born again . . ." Just before dawn one winter's morning, New Year's Day or thereabouts, two real, full-grown, living men fell from a great height, twenty-nine thousand and two feet, towards the English Channel, without benefit of parachutes or wings, out of a clear sky. "I tell you, you must die, I tell you, I tell you," and thusly and so beneath a moon of alabaster until a loud cry crossed the night, "To the devil with your tunes," the words hanging crystalline in the iced white night, "in the movies you only mimed to playback singers, so spare me these infernal noises now." Gibreel, the tuneless soloist, had been cavorting in moonlight as he sang his impromptu gazal, swimming in air, butterfly-stroke, breast-stroke, bunching himself into a ball, spreadeagling himself against the almost-infinity of the almost-dawn, adopting heraldic postures, rampant, couchant, pitting levity against gravity. Now he rolled happily towards the sardonic voice. "Ohé, Salad baba, it's you, too good. What-ho, old Chumch." At which the other, a fastidious shadow falling headfirst in a grey suit with all the jacket buttons done up, arms by his sides, taking for granted the improbability of the bowler hat on his head, pulled a nickname-hater's face. "Hey, Spoono," Gibreel yelled, eliciting a second inverted wince, "Proper London, bhai! Here we come! Those bastards down there won't know what hit them. Meteor or lightning or vengeance of God. Out of thin air, baby. _Dharrraaammm!_ Wham, na? What an entrance, yaar. I swear: splat."
It's got all the ingredients of other postmodern beasts. I was surprised how much it reminded me of Pynchon, actually (Rushdie has had the honour of meeting Pynchon, and didn’t say much: “[I] found him very satisfyingly Pynchonesque”. Interestingly, too, Rushdie said once in an interview the book that influenced him the most was Gravity’s Rainbow and he wrote an entire draft of a novel called The Antagonist which was so obviously a copy of TP that it wasn’t publishable — it now resides in the archives of Emory University in Atlanta). And this is not to say Rushdie is a bad writer, but no sentences or passages blew me away like those ones you stumble across in Pynchon out of nowhere that remind you, however frustrating he is, he is very good. Rushdie’s prose is dense, sometimes humorous. I didn’t care for the whole parallel vision plot going on, though I am sure it is chockfull of symbolism that went over my puny head. The magical realism, compared to other writers, didn’t have the depth or awe to it, though I did like certain ideas; I presume there was more symbolism hidden in all the inexplicable details. I thoroughly enjoyed the beginning of the novel and a good portion in the middle, but the bits around it and the ending were disappointing. At times it felt aimless, and Rushdie was excitably leading me on by the hand when I just wanted to slow down or even stop.
But I’m glad I read it, after owning it for so many years. What gave me the kick to do it was something he said in Knife about his books being able to ‘look after themselves’; I like this idea, and think it holds truth. Some books can look after themselves, and I guess I wouldn’t jump to say this isn’t capable of handling itself. It clearly is.
Salman Rushdie has an amazing gift for language... and "The Satanic Verses" really doesn't disappoint. He writes the kind of sentences you just want to linger over -- they are clever without being gimmicky and often just put together so beautifully. I really detest magical realism generally, but both of the Rushdie novels I've read were written so well I didn't mind that element at all.
I actually enjoyed the story quite a bit as well. In this novel, two men survive when their plane explodes and they plummet to the ground. One takes on the characteristics of the archangel Gabriel, while the other takes on the characteristics of the devil. (As a non-religious sort, I don't have a lot of opinion on the controversy surrounding the book -- I really don't know enough about Islam to know if the book was mocking that religion or not.)
The story winds about a lot and this took an extraordinarily long time for me to read as a result. But overall, I really enjoyed the book and wouldn't hesitate to read another by Rushdie.
I actually enjoyed the story quite a bit as well. In this novel, two men survive when their plane explodes and they plummet to the ground. One takes on the characteristics of the archangel Gabriel, while the other takes on the characteristics of the devil. (As a non-religious sort, I don't have a lot of opinion on the controversy surrounding the book -- I really don't know enough about Islam to know if the book was mocking that religion or not.)
The story winds about a lot and this took an extraordinarily long time for me to read as a result. But overall, I really enjoyed the book and wouldn't hesitate to read another by Rushdie.
took me forever to get through! salman honey ur writing style can only be digested in small amounts. not bad tho
A heady stew of dialect and cultural references that I don't feel like I picked up on, suffused with vivid imagery. At its core, the characters' stories were strong and sympathetic. Every action they took made sense, and that held the book together despite the chaos going on around and within them.
This was our latest book club pick. Not going to finish it at all. I just can't do it! It makes my brain hurt just thinking about it.