Guilty Pleasures

During the thesis process I noticed a change in myself. I had less time and patience for many things I previously enjoyed. One such thing was fiction. So naturally I promised myself that I would return to such pleasures once the thesis was put to rest. But I have become largely a restless soul and I am finding fiction difficult to cope with. But this Christmas break a major exception has occurred.

The book I am reading is one that I have been saving for some time. But now I am happily reading Shalimar the Clown by Salman Rushdie. I have been hooked on Rushdie ever since I read his book The Satanic Verses. I did not â??getâ?? the reason for the chaos it created at my first reading. But was hooked by his use of images, stories and language. Already in the beginning you are met with a man (Gibreel) falling through the air after an airplane explosion:

Gibreel, the tuneless soloist, had been cavorting in moonlight as he sang his impromptu gazal, swimming in air, butterfly-stroke, breast-stroke, bunching himself into a ball, spreadeagling himself against the almost-infinity of the almost-dawn, adopting heraldic postures, rampant, couchant, pitting levity against gravity.

The Verses were followed (in order of reading â?? not writing) by his brilliant Midnightâ??s Children and in Grimus where I came across one quote that has never left me: A man is sane only to the extent that he subscribes to a previously-agreed construction of reality.

In The Moorâ??s Last sigh (what a name!) another great quote was:

By embracing the inescapable, I lost my fear of it. Iâ??ll tell you a secret about fear: its an absolutist. With fear, its all or nothing. Either, like any bullying tyrant, it rules your life with a stupid blinding omnipotence, or else you overthrow it, and its power vanishes like a puff of smoke. And another secret: the revolution against fear, the engendering of that tawdry despots fall, has more or less nothing to do with â??courageâ??. It is driven by something much more straightforward: the simple need to get on with your life.

I donâ??t get around to reading as much fiction as I would like but when I do Rushdie is among my most favourite.  So this Christmas I am thoroughly enjoying reading Rushdie â?? its well worth the guilt I am building up by not doing real work.

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