Thursday, August 11, 2022

Sir Salman

Really unsettled today by the stabbing suffered by Salman Rushdie, whose brilliant and provocative work is the basis for whole disciplines. I and hosts of others made academic articles/positions/reputations based on his work. And he was always so amiable and cordial every time I met him. 

I'm not a fan of his later work, recent politics, or aspects of his personal life (I stopped buying his books when he supported Roman Polanski), but I cannot forget how breathtaking and eye-opening Midnight's Children was when I first read it or how poignant Haroun and the Sea of Stories was when it came out ... I remember thinking I didn't know you're allowed to do this with language... I didn't know you were allowed to write about this... 

I hope he makes a full recovery. 

Back in 2006, I copied this extract from an article in The Telegraph:

It has not escaped his attention that living under a fundamentalist threat was once a solo occupation for him. Now we all are.

"That's true," he says cheerfully. "And I think we all are in the end making the same choice that I made all those years ago which was, you just have to get on with your life. You know, in the end, that is all you can do."

4 comments:

Nicole said...

Maya, I hadn't heard the news until I read this. Absolutely shocking. It must be a real blow to you, since you have met him and been so involved in his work.

I am embarrassed to say I have never read Midnight's Children, but I will right that wrong as soon as I can!

maya said...

Nicole--I've dreaded this attack for decades, and it still felt shocking. Translators of his work have previously died via stabbing. Thankfully, it looks like SR will recover (he's off the ventilator).

I hope you like Midnight's Children! Haroun is nice too (and shorter).

StephLove said...

It is quite alarming and depressing but not that surprising, given how he and people associated with him have been hounded over the years. I'm glad to hear he will survive.

maya said...

Met too, StephLove.

in anticipation of spring gifts

somedays everything radiates porous with happiness down to the scatter of stars I work... I walk for hours  I was meant to be lost here wher...