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Conversations with Salman Rushdie (Literary Conversations Series)

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The collection of interviews compiled here is a remarkable chronicling of the pursuits and tribulations that Rushdie has had to encounter in his work, often controversial yet boldly empowering to voices unheard from in India, and I think it serves a very useful role in trying to unravel the whole Rushdie phenomenon. Rushdie's response to the fatwa, his original intentions in portraying the more controversial elements of Midnight's Children, his take on contemporaries, Gunther Grass, Garcia Marquez, are all stimulating works. This is the art of the interview on showcase here, folks, and even if you've read "Step Across This Line" or Rushdie's other personal essays, this offers a third-person perspective that will enchant readers nonetheless.

Interestingly enough, I recently heard Rushdie talk at a lecture in New York recently, and hearing him speak on a letter he received anonymously, I recollect the words, which admirably enough, say to Rushdie something to the effect of: "Imagine you are surrounded by terrorists pointing guns to your head in an enclosed room, and entering this room there is only a door. Imagine your lover is outside somewhere hopefully trying to save you. Now imagine the door being broken down, the gunmen turn around, and the hero who enters first is struck down with bullets. Even though the person first to break down the door is now riddled with bullets, the door is still broken down. Others may now enter and save me. This is what you have done for me."

I find this enormously helpful in coming to grips with his story and the large degree of *inspiration* Rushdie has provided people in the aftermath of his human tragedy. The freedoms for which he has "taken the hit" and by which others can now be liberated to speak their concerns cannot be underscored more gracefully.

But my own anecdotes aside, this collection is a very good one, indeed, and if you're looking for greater insight into Rushdie the Man, not Rushdie the Myth, you can look no further. The interviews are sparkling at times and always rich and provocative.

Books still matter. No single author proclaims that louder, both figuratively and literally, than Salman Rushdie, arguably today's most famous literary author. He represents a large chunk of today's migrant humanity, being himself an amalgam of Indian-Pakistani-British-American in upbringing, culture and locale. In a sense he belongs to all of these cultures while belonging to none of them simultaneously. A new sense of one's "homeland" has emerged - or perhaps the old sense has dissipated into wispy illusion. Likewise, our concepts of "citizenship" and "roots" have undergone radical changes in the past fifty years. What do these now quaint sounding words communicate in an era of rampant globalism? And what does it mean for one's being to bridge multiple cultures? Rushdie has explored such "alienated identities" in his novels, essays and interviews. His most famous (or infamous) novel "The Satanic Verses" deals with these themes of cross-cultural migration in magical realistic detail. Of course, a few not-so-funny things happened on the way to the forum. Of course most of the hoopla and scandal surrounding the fatwa has dribbled away, at least in the West, so the book now receives the attention it deserves as a novel rather than as a political potboiler. Regardless, the nefarious fatwa will always follow Rushdie shadow-like and will always symbolize his career. This fact emerges most definitely in his interviews, many of which were collected in 2000 as "Conversations with Salman Rushdie." This collection spans the beginning of Rushdie's (successful) career up to the release of 1999's "The Ground Beneath Her Feet." The subsequent effect of the fatwa firestorm on his career and psyche get put on display outright and in his own words. As the interviews progress in time, he gradually emerges as the symbol of freedom of speech and intolerance for intolerance that he still represents. At the bottom of it all sits the seemingly innocuous, but apparently still very volatile, book.

The interviews begin in 1982, not long after the awarding of the Booker Prize to his second novel, "Midnight's Children." This event single-handedly made his name in global literary circles. These early discussions, ranging though "Shame," focus on the writing process, magic realism, his inspirations and influences and the disparate notions of reality that sprouted in the twentieth century. Rushdie's work also possesses a certain Foucaultian subtext; it provides an archaeology of sorts concerning alternate notions of history and reality, namely, the migrant's perspective. Along those lines, some interviews suggest that Rushdie's main inspiration involved coming to terms with himself, or at least with his unique culture-straddling situation. This makes sense seeing that his early novels' locales correspond with countries he has occupied: India, Pakistan and England. Along the way he symbolized, consciously or unconsciously, an entire generation. Apart from a few scandals surrounding "Midnight's Children" (Indira Gandhi sued him over certain passages) and "Shame" (Pakistani leaders at the time didn't appreciate their literary depictions), the interviews project a certain "normality" up to the release of "The Satanic Verses." One interview takes place on the day after the book's release in 1988. It's amazing to read this in light of what happened: no global scandal, no death threats, just the release of a novel. Here the interlocutors discuss themes of duality (angels and devils) and description as a political act. Then, later in 1988, signs of trouble appear along with ominous comparisons to "The Last Temptation of Christ." A "Newsweek" article from February 1989 then christens the fatwa era. Interviews quickly become scarce, as Rushdie made few public appearances between 1989 and 1995. One from 1991 in particular sticks out and Rushdie went on to regret and excoriate its claims. In it he claims to have embraced Islam. Throughout the discussion his voice seems disoriented, confused and insecure. That same year "Imaginary Homelands," Rushdie's first collection of essays was released with a concluding piece entitled "Why I Have Embraced Islam." Later editions expurgated it. Subsequent interviews feature solemn detractions of his "conversion." By 1995 Rushdie's world has settled down and the interviews begin to increase dramatically in number. At one point he claims that "no one should feel sorry for me." But earlier he stated that "my life has been wrecked." Such seemingly contradictory claims only showcase the disruption he likely experienced during those grueling and uncertain years. 1995 also saw the release of "The Moor's Last Sigh," which upset some Hindu groups in India and delayed the book's release there, but no international ripples of scandal followed. Rushdie discusses the novel's themes with Charlie Rose and others while vetting the inevitable, and often repetitive, fatwa questions. The final interview gives a brief overview of "The Ground Beneath Her Feet" and concludes with Rushdie's desire to move to America, which he of course did soon after.

Interviews can illuminate an author's work like no other discussion. Though some theorists have claimed "the death of the author," the concept seems very much alive in collections such as this. At one point Rushdie even admits that he finds such structuralist theories "implausible." Perhaps the author concept contains some characteristics of Rasputin. In any case, many of the interviews here elucidate the themes and subtexts of some of Rushdie's most acclaimed works, most notably "Midnight's Children," "Shame" and "The Satanic Verses." Other books receive meager attention, such as "The Jaguar Smile," "Haroun and the Sea of Stories," "Imaginary Homelands" and "East, West." 1992's essay "The Wizard of Oz" doesn't even seem to exist in this context. Comparatively, the obscure "Grimus" pops up frequently, though Rushdie often dismisses it. Regardless, Rushdie speaks eloquently about his major works and the situations in which they were written. Fans will greedily eat up each interview. On a personal level, inquiries into Rushdie's non-writing life typically receive laconic answers. At one point, when asked about his son, Rushdie simply says "Do you mind if we don't talk about that," though the situation was more than understandable. Other intimate anecdotes do emerge, though, such as Rushdie's very tolerant Muslim Grandfather and some light details about his divorce from Marianne Wiggins. Overall, these interviews focus on his work, apart from the few conversations overwhelmed by the fatwa. They also help illuminate a justifiably acclaimed author's tribulations throughout what must have been an indescribable experience. On that topic, Rushdie recently announced a memoir about his time in hiding, but no potential release date has followed. And of course we now know, some ten years later, that things turned out OK. This volume then ends on a fairly happy note. Plus, it seems to prove that the book, along with "the author," still exerts undeniable force. Let's hope that continues well into the future whether we're reading on paper or on LCD screens.