Shalimar the Clown: A Novel

Rushdie uses words like an artist uses a paint brush. Reading "Shalimar the Clown" painted scenes that were more vivid than programs I see on TV. His story is current and historical. His story is about a girl with Hindu/Moslem/Jewish ties. The story travels, like a flying carpet, between Kashmir and the United States, with the Pakistani/Indian conflict and the terrorist dilemma the world is trying to deal with, thrown in. The only fault may be the ending which wasn't really satisfying for this reader, but it was whimsical. This is the first Rushdie book I've read, but he's the best author I've read in recent years.

Salman Rushdie is our world's greatest living novelist and "Shalimar the Clown," quite simply put, is one of his greatest creations. Heart-rending, heart-breaking, filled with fury and indignation, love and the hope of reconciliation, political diatribe and aesthetic redemption, "Shalimar" reads like no other contemporary work. Passages of marvelous beauty (particularly of the early love between Shalimar and Boonyi, two of the novel's central characters), of the triumph of art over ideology (particularly Bombur Yambarzal's humorous and heroic deflation of the humorless and despicable mullah, Bulbul Fakh), and of the unmitigated horrors of war (particularly the destruction of the once near-utopian village of Pachigam, perhaps one of the most tragic passages in modern literature) confront readers at nearly every turn. This is one of the most densely populated (in the sense of characterization as well as ideas) novels of recent years, perhaps even more apocalyptically epic in scope than Rushdie's own "Midnight's Children." Most important of all, Rushdie proves (once again) that politics and literature can be mutually enriching as well as informative; that art can teach more profoundly than any ideology (religious or political); and that hope and beauty--in the midst of the very worst of human-made atrocities-- will find a way (sometimes) to persevere. This is a difficult, angry novel; but make no mistake, it will reward the patient (and thoughtful) reader with a profoundly moving experience. Indeed, Rushdie reminds us all why the novel remains one of the most pertinent and potent of today's artistic venues.

A mesmerizing tale centered in Kashmir but roaming around the world and throughout history. The large cast of characters are each enchanting or entrancing in turn (although, oddly, the protagonist, India Ophuls, is not). The central tragedy of the story is the transformation of Kashmir from a Garden of Eden populated with warm, humble, enchanting, and enchanted rural villagers, into a ravaged moonscape populated by cold-blooded, fanatic, malevolent marauders from Pakistan and India; the story of Shalimar the Clown and Boonyi recapitulates the tragedy on a personal level, each proceeding toward their respective dooms after Boonyi eats from the forbidden fruit of modernity and Shalimar the Clown becomes an Islamist terrorist by way of passage to the execution of his personal terrorist agenda. Rushdie's writing is mesmerizing throughout. The narrative is a dense tapestry that seems to lead in many directions but is all, in the end, tightly woven together. The only weakness, in my humble opinion, was that his protagonaist, India Ophuls, is an unappetizing character in her own right. The story of her childhood as the "root cause" for her unappealing traits is an oddly sociological, Oprah-istic formulation in a novel that is dominated by innocence and evil frankly declared. Notwithstanding the overarching tragedy of the narrative, there is considerable humor of both the life-affirming and the splenetic varieties. On the other hand, Rushdie's proper English gentlemanliness creeps in occasionally in his disdain for those sullied by commerce or uniforms. As someone who does not read a great deal of fiction, I was familiar with Rushdie only because of his unpopularity with the famous literary critic, Ayatollah Khomeini. I can see from Shalimar the Clown that I have been missing out on one of the most substantial literary talents of our time.

Yes I am a fan of Rushdie, but I found this to be his best since Satanic Verses, although much different. As the other reviewers note part of this book is about terrorism. The other reviews also do a nice job of covering plot so I will skip it. I would suggest the book is about so much more than terrorism. In fact I think his views of terrorism are not integral to the story and would not recommend reading it as a text in support of or against current US policy. Rushdie condemns politicians and their inane behavior in many ways, but I do not view that as central. First and foremost, I believe this book is about the meaning of freedom. This brings it close to the heart of Rushdie who of course had to give up his freedom, at least for awhile to take advantage of his freedom to think and write. The book recounts the flights to freedom and differing views of it through many of the characters in the book. It explores the struggles of many characters to attain freedom or to benefit from it. This includes Max Ophuls who fled the nazis, Boon-yi, the heroine of sorts, who is trapped in her life, India Ophuls, the daughter of Maxand other characters. It is also about Kashmir and its loss of freedom at the hands of India and Pakistan who use it for their political ends. I also believe this book is about the western concept of fate as passed down from the Greeks and its meanings. It is also about women and their role in societies and how they cope with men, life, love, tragedy and more. Much of it reminded me of the classics by men and written about women. Yes this is a short list, but Rushdie does such an amazing job of dealing with these issues, I can hardly do it justice. All this is done through a tight plot with typical Rushdie humor, twists and turns and a good share of mysticism. It was a pleasure to read and I heartily recommend it.

Leave it to Salman Rushdie to tackle the most poignant issue of our day - terrorism, and do so with eloquence, wit, and true revelations into its distressing nucleus. While other authors have included 9/11 in their novels (Foer's rather trite attempt in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close), Rushdie has managed to set the stage for a true exegesis of the zeitgeist prior to, and directly thereafter, this seminal event in American history. By investigating so perfectly the transformation of Shalimar into an extremist, Rushdie is able to weave together an explanation of why terrorists are born that remains personal, and yet also reaches an almost universal explication. This eerie gift is by far a better investigation of the reason for terrorism than any so-called scholarly work that has come out post-9/11. The fact that Rushdie provides his terrorist with such a layered biography is a testament to his talents, and allows the reader to understand there is far more to it than what they suggest on the nightly news. Rushdie's Shalimar becomes nearly the equivalent of Satan in Milton's Paradise Lost - we feel sympathetic towards him while at the same time, we know he is no hero. Like Milton, Rushdie is a myth-maker, and his ability to conjure up these new myths makes the novel all the more alluring. Myths are universal. They capture the collective (un)consciousness of a given society. They tap into our most primal and complex notions and feelings. They work as symbols of our own actions and emotions. So, for an author to invent a myth, and do so with the perfection of actually capturing our attitudes, our new customs, our new thoughts, our new fears, he or she has accomplished something grand. And here, Rushdie has done so flawlessly. His characters work as archetypes, each one representing a given aspect of our worldly society today. Shalimar is those that we fear, Max is those we understand and respect (the West) but who are unequipped to understand and properly deal with the new world's greatest threat, Boonyi is the middle-point, the place where this friction collides, and it is fitting that she is the mother of complacency and American narcissism. For her child, living in Los Angeles in an absurd existence of self-indulgence and isolationism, with no understanding of her roots and the imminent catastrophe, is our attitude and response. However, this novel is not all dire. Like all great myths, it is hilarious, erotic, absurd, and beautiful. It is a Divine Comedy, as well. The paradox of Dante's ominous subject is deftly played out here, as the humor and the beauty works to magnify the tragedy. It has long been argued as well that the real frontline of terrorism is Kashmir, and here again, Rushdie beautifully expresses why this is, from a very interesting discussion of the history, to the events shaping the area into a hotbed of extremism. Long before there was Bush's war, there was the unending war between Hindu and Muslim. Kashmir is its home. Rushd