A review by booklywookly
Fury by Salman Rushdie

5.0

I am always angry. Sometimes justifiably so. The other times, for no apparent reason. Stupid people anger me. Clever people enrage me. Lack of civic sense on roads makes me furious. Strong headlights, loud horns, inconsiderate drivers, they send me into a rage. The carelessness of youth irritates me. The misery of years to come by infuriates me. Square pegs in round holes don’t humor me. Assholes anger me. Incompetent colleagues irk me. Your pathetic attention span riles me up. You asking the same question gets on my nerves. My own imposter syndrome makes me furious. This country, this city, its noise, its people, its dysfunctional security cams, its rejection of beauty over utility builds up this great fury inside of me, ready to burst at seams.

Sometimes I am almost that cynic grampa who shouts at clouds with a raised fist, and the realization of it angers me. 

Professor Solanka is a man with a short fuse. He is a nasty bitter old Cambridge-educated millionaire. He is furious at everything, angered by everyone. He is depressed, unhappy, deeply unsatisfied and unfulfilled despite his massive riches. He finds himself by his wife’s bedside with a knife in his hand. Afraid of himself, he fears for the people he love. He deserts his whole life and fled to America, the great devourer, ready to be devoured, hopeful he can lose himself and his demons to it, only to be forced to confront himself. Professor Solanka is now furious at America. 

Solanka is Salman Rushdie. 

Solanka is me, minus that millionaire part. 

I loved it. And I get it why some won’t like Fury. It reads like a self indulging noir fantasy written by a man set in contemporary times. The damsels are young, beautiful, with questionable life choices and ready to throw themselves at our self wallowing binge drinking obnoxious SOB who needs some “fixing”. 

This is a peak 2001 contemporary novel. There are so many events and references that reading now may invoke nostalgia, or just leave you clueless in the absence of any context. A very “if you know you know” feeling. 

P.S. Me searching for synonyms of “anger” for this post has, oh well, angered me 🤣