This is the story of Salman Rushdie's time in exile secondary to the fatwah against him issues by the Ayatollah Khomeni in Iran. It is not short and it is not sweet--it is a good book if you are thinking of New Year's resolutions, because this is a bit of a cautionary tale--what not to do.
The book opens not with this, but rather with a story of his early life. He is setting the stage for why this was so particularly hard for him to tolerate. He never wanted for confidence, either as a writer or a man, even early on, when neither was particularly warranted. He admits to his multiple failings. He was bad boyfriend material, and worse husband material. His saving grace, besides his writing, is that he is a good father. The beginning of the book is balanced--we do not approach the publication of 'The Satanic Verses' feeling sorry for him. I think Rushdie wants the reader to understand what he went through. He wants support for the British government protecting him all the time that they did. He wants to put the whole episode behind him, but not to have it forgotten.
The best parts of this book involve self reflection. The most tedious parts of the book are when he is whining. The weirdest part of the book is that he floats between the first and the third person. As if Joseph Anton is and is not Salman Rushdie. All said, it is a good read, despite it's length.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment