Haroun and the Sea of Stories

Back in the days when Salman Rushdie was a literary fugitive, he fulfilled a long standing vow to his son. Zafar, then about nine years old, had begged his father to write a children's story. Rushdie had put this off until the hubub over his fourth novel exploded. Then, throughout the Muslim world, soot from charred copies of "The Satanic Verses" wafted skyward and the faithful wailed for the infidel author's demise. In response the essay "In Good Faith" appeared. An exhausted Rushdie, somewhere, who knows where, it probably felt like nowhere, was left with just enough energy to take on a short project. "Haroun and the Sea of Stories" was conceived in this strange fugitive exile from everyday life. The results display a fervent imagination in no way limited by the threats surrounding it. Though "Haroun" targets twelve to fifteen year olds, readers will recognize Rushdie's indubitable style weaving throughout the fantastical tale. If Roald Dahl had been from India, he probably would have written something like this. "Haroun" works at the level of myth and fable with a lurking moral. Every now and then it peeks out and winks at the reader. That it relates to freedom of speech and the importance of storytelling should come as no surprise. Veiled references to certain religious persuasions will also not go unnoticed. Though "Haroun" does not relate, storywise, to Rushdie's predicament at the time, he nonetheless uses the medium to express some opinions about his censorious detractors. The fable tells of young Haroun's journey to the moon Kahani to restore the storytelling powers of his famous father, Rashid. One day Soraya, Rashid's wife and Haroun's mother, stops singing and abandons her family, leaving Rashid in a muted state (though he bleats and mutters "Ark, ark, ark.") Rashid's fallen reputation has fatal implications since a political thug has hired him to entertain and sway the masses before elections. No stories, no life. Ouch. While sleeping on this same thug's houseboat on Dull Lake, before the next day's ominous speech, Haroun notices a small man in the bathroom. From this point on things get very interesting. His name is Iff and he has come to disconnect Rashid's story water supply. Haroun confiscates Iff's valuable Disconnector and forces Iff to take him to the Walrus to bargain for his father's story water supply. Riding a fantastic mechanical telepathic bird named Butt the Hoopoe, the ride to the moon Kahani at just the right speed. There Haroun learns of the lands of Gup and Chup. Gup oversees the Ocean of Stories, the source of all narrative threads, and "The Process Too Complicated To Explain" or "P2C2E." Chup lives in internal darkness under the cruel rule of Khattam-Shud. Here silence and censorship reign. Khattam-shud schemes to poison the Ocean of Stories and plug up the ocean's source with a stadium-sized plug. Suddenly, Rashid appears on Kahani. The Chups suspect him of spying, but he warns them that their princess Batcheat

This may be the most delightfully whimsical yet brilliant little book I've ever read. A joy at every level - story, characters, themes, language - it literally made me smile every time I read it. A testament to the value of concision and expertly-crafted simplicity, after reading The Satanic Verses, Fury, and The Ground Beneath Her Feet, this proved to me that Rushdie's seeming mastry of language and storytelling was far from some style he coincidentally stumbled across which worked for both him and his audience, but was a result of unique craft which he can scale deftly across any genre or style.

The book was written when Rushdie had been hiding from Khomeini's fatwa. As perhaps may be guessed, the book is an allegory on censorship (hence Haroun's -- the boy protagonist of the book -- journey to remove the plug that clogs the flow in the sea of stories). Less known is the fact that Rushdie wrote the book in order to explain such situation to his young son Zafar: [Z]embla, Zenda, Xanadu: [A]ll our dream-worlds may come true. [F]airy lands are fearsome too. [A]s I wander far from view [R]ead, and bring me home to you. writes the dedication of the book. So it is little wonder that the book is fantastic and fun. But to reduce the book to a fable for children would be to miss out Rushdie's literary prowess. I had had not just a few chuckles during the course of reading; I found Rushdie's play on words thoroughly witty, and the creativeness innate in his gregarious characters refreshing. The book arguably might be best enjoyed reading out loud to a child. I am considering doing just so to my adorable little niece.

Haroun and the Sea of Stories is a wonderful fairytale, an adventure with depth. If I had been old enough to have children of my own, or had younger brothers and sisters, I would've read it to them. At the same time I have recommended the book to my English teacher to let people of my own age (18) read it as a part of their English studies, and to my English-studying grandmother. As a child can see it as a cool adventure, an adult can see its depth, and that is what is so great about it, everybody has got something to find. Many children's books gives little or nothing to the adult reader, but Haroun really does. Unfortunately, the Swedish translation is quite bad, and I fear other translations are too, as it is a hard book to translate. But even if English isn't your mother language, give Haroun a try, follow him to the moon of Kahani, help him saving the Sea of Stories and see the sad city turn happy. Haroun and the Sea of Stories is not a book that leaves you as you put it back on the shelf, Haroun will follow you home...

An instant classic. This is a story that is meant to be read over and over, out loud, silently, in public, or in the comfort of one's own bed. The words flow and flow, lyrical and rhythmic, while spinning this beautiful fantasy. After reading the book, I find myself talking like the characters, chuckling to myself on the subway suddenly reminded of something in the book.In fact, when I was reading this book on the way to work, I had people come up to me and ask "How is that?" (Which is unheard of, especially for New York Commuters!). All I can say is, "Just Delightful. Highly Recommend you read it."