Satanic Verses

The Satanic Verses has been dubbed (amongst many other things!) `the most famous book most people will never read'. If true it's is a real shame, because at the centre of all the extreme opinion that surrounds the book, the condemnation, acclaim and analysis, is an incredible and accessible novel far greater than the sum of its few controversial parts. Gibreel Farishta and Saladin Chamcha `crash land' together in England from India and are both profoundly transformed by the experience. Farishta begins to develop an angelic halo, while Chamcha metamorphoses into a cloven-hoofed devil complete with horns and bad breath. Both men suffer, in different ways, the brutality and indignity of their transformations in Rushdie's evocation of a tense and brooding London. Ultimately it is the `demonic' Chamcha who finds fulfilment by returning to India, the `angelic' Farishta is not so fortunate. Merging fantasy and reality, Rushdie uses the subversive excesses of `magical realism' to explore the demands of migration and how those demands can destroy the fragile assurances of identity and belonging most of us take for granted. Farishta is haunted by the nightmares of his lost Muslim faith, Chamcha by the impossible dream of reinventing himself as an Englishman. Through these and the experiences of other often outrageously conceived characters, Rushdie reflects on how people suffer, and are made to suffer, for the sake of a little certainty. If it all sounds a little heavy, don't be put off. Above all this is a great piece of story-telling, funny, extraordinary and completely absorbing. Rushdie works his usual narrative magic, writing on a grand exuberant scale that takes in everything from sex and death to flying carpets and hot wax, but also the delicate intimacies of desire and despair. Poignant and staggeringly imaginative, The Satanic Verses explores continuing cultural obsessions with purity and stability in a world increasingly lacking in either.

For anyone who likes literature as literature (as opposed to entertainment and good clean fun) S.V. is for them. It isn't any easy book, in the beginning. The dialect takes some getting used to, and the jokes are subtle and easy to miss. The first time I read S.V. I had to read the first chapter aloud... and slowly. But from the first 'Everest' reference about the aircraft's altitude when the explosion occurred (was it really 27,000 ft, or 27,002?) the themes of S.V. revealed themselves. Truth vs. falsehood, certainty vs skepticism, the fanaticism of received faith vs. self doubt all receive treatment that isn't typical outside of required reading in college. Nevertheless, S.V. is exciting and worthwhile. One of the pleasures of a close reading of S.V. is to notice the influence of other writers - both their voices and their themes - in Rushdie's writing. Gabriel Garcia Marquez is in evidence, as is Kurt Vonnegut. But Rushdie's voice is his own, even if it is sometimes something of a collage. Regarding the controversy: Even without an understanding of the Islamic issues, it is easy to understand how revolutionary Iranians could be upset by the book. The unflattering description of the exiled Ayatollah had to strike a nerve with followers of the Ayatollah Khomeni. Was Rushdie intentiionally playing with fire? Also, the whole story of the relationship between the 'angel' Gibreen and Mahound brought up some suspicious issues... like those surrounding the orgins of many faiths. That said, however, maybe we can keep in mind the justice meted out by the author himself. (But here I will keep silent... let the reader read it for her/himself). And before reacting to the stories, maybe the POINT of the stories should be kept in mind: At the bottom of every belief there are grounds for doubt. While not necessarily discrediting belief, these grounds are a rational check on action. Wtihout questioning all of received revelation, maybe we each should question the lights illuminating our own understanding of revelation? So before I choose to blow up an airliner, for instance, or lead a flock of believers into the sea, maybe I should question the source of that light. Satan is an angel of light, as well as a liar (as we say here in the South). So maybe we should act (or refrain from acting) with that in mind. That is one of the main points I got out of S.V.