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Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie
Book Summary InformationAuthor: Salman Rushdie Edition: Paperback Audio: English (Unknown); English (Original Language); English (Published) Published: 1995-05 ISBN: 0099578514 Number of pages: 448 Publisher: Vintage Books
Book Reviews of Midnight's ChildrenBook Review: A Stream of (Enlightended) Consciousness Summary: 5 Stars
Much has been written about the unique writing style of Salman Rushdie and Midnight's Children. It is hip to like it and thus call oneself a literary, and not unusual to dislike it as an uninitiated reader who cannot possibly know what to expect a priori. For what it's worth, here is my attempt to characterize the style. The book is written as a "stream of consciousness", long long long sentences, side-by-side repetition of adjectives for emphasis (hint hint hint!), use of synonyms similes parellels without punctuation or separators (again for emphasis), revealing the plot's end-game in advance yet (or thus) engaging the reader in the path to getting there, repeated summaries each to make an overarching point than to simply recollect the story so far, admitted insecurity and intermittent defense of the story's believability, and did I mention rechristening of events and characters with metaphoric names. If you could read and follow the last sentence in one shot, you are ready to read and enjoy Midnight's Children. The story-telling is hallucinatory on the surface, but enlightened underneath; deliriously exaggerated on the surface, but scrupulously balanced underneath; grossly fatalistic on the surface, but hopelessly optimistic underneath; carelessly raw on the surface, but meticulous genius underneath.
Never judge a book by its cover, judge it by its metaphors. Besides being one intense allegory, the book is a collection of the richest metaphors I've ever read in a piece of literature. Metaphors, mind you, and not its evil cousin, Analogies. Every event and character is first rechristened with its metaphoric name. In the process of writing the book, Rushdie has created a new vocabulary of words that become the best way (if not the only way) to describe those characters and events.
Spoiler alert: To pick from this new vocabulary, one way of characterizing the life of Saleem Sinai, and therefore the book, is Sperectomy: the draining-out of hope. To quote the last sentence of the book that sums it up "...because it is the privilege and the curse of midnight's children to be both masters and victims of their times, to forsake privacy and be sucked into the annihilating whirlpool of the multitudes, and to be unable to live or die in peace."
Midnight's Children is a great way to live vicariously through post-colonial India. If A Fine Balance is a bus-ride through India with a good commentator, Midnight's Children is your dark roller-coaster with ghosts popping out at you at every turn. If A Fine Balance is real in a touchy-and-feely way that you wish it was unreal, Midnight's Children is unreal in a mystical way that you will hate to, and yet force yourself to believe it is real; just like a post-traumatic nightmare, only it was a re-enactment.
Summary of Midnight's ChildrenSaleem Sinai was born at midnight, the midnight of India's independence, and found himself mysteriously 'handcuffed to history' by the coincidence. He is one of 1,001 children born at the midnight hour, each of them endowed with an extraordinary talent - and whose privilege and curse it is to be both master and victims of their times. Through Saleem's gifts - inner ear and wildly sensitive sense of smell - we are drawn into a fascinating family saga set against the vast, colourful background of the India of the 20th century. Anyone who has spent time in the developing world will know that one of Bombay's claims to fame is the enormous film industry that churns out hundreds of musical fantasies each year. The other, of course, is native son Salman Rushdie--less prolific, perhaps than Bollywood, but in his own way just as fantastical. Though Rushdie's novels lack the requisite six musical numbers that punctuate every Bombay talkie, they often share basic plot points with their cinematic counterparts. Take, for example, his 1980 Booker Prize-winning Midnight's Children: two children born at the stroke of midnight on August 15, 1947--the moment at which India became an independent nation--are switched in the hospital. The infant scion of a wealthy Muslim family is sent to be raised in a Hindu tenement, while the legitimate heir to such squalor ends up establishing squatters' rights to his unlucky hospital mate's luxurious bassinet. Switched babies are standard fare for a Hindi film, and one can't help but feel that Rushdie's world-view--and certainly his sense of the fantastical--has been shaped by the films of his childhood. But whereas the movies, while entertaining, are markedly mediocre, Midnight's Children is a masterpiece, brilliant written, wildly unpredictable, hilarious and heartbreaking in equal measure. Rushdie's narrator, Saleem Sinai, is the Hindu child raised by wealthy Muslims. Near the beginning of the novel, he informs us that he is falling apart--literally: I mean quite simply that I have begun to crack all over like an old jug--that my poor body, singular, unlovely, buffeted by too much history, subjected to drainage above and drainage below, mutilated by doors, brained by spittoons, has started coming apart at the seams. In short, I am literally disintegrating, slowly for the moment, although there are signs of an acceleration. In light of this unfortunate physical degeneration, Saleem has decided to write his life story, and, incidentally, that of India's, before he crumbles into "(approximately) six hundred and thirty million particles of anonymous, and necessarily oblivious, dust." It seems that within one hour of midnight on India's independence day, 1,001 children were born. All of those children were endowed with special powers: some can travel through time, for example; one can change gender. Saleem's gift is telepathy, and it is via this power that he discovers the truth of his birth: that he is, in fact, the product of the illicit coupling of an Indian mother and an English father, and has usurped another's place. His gift also reveals the identities of all the other children and the fact that it is in his power to gather them for a "midnight parliament" to save the nation. To do so, however, would lay him open to that other child, christened Shiva, who has grown up to be a brutish killer. Saleem's dilemma plays out against the backdrop of the first years of independence: the partition of India and Pakistan, the ascendancy of "The Widow" Indira Gandhi, war, and, eventually, the imposition of martial law. We've seen this mix of magical thinking and political reality before in the works of Günter Grass and Gabriel García Márquez. What sets Rushdie apart is his mad prose pyrotechnics, the exuberant acrobatics of rhyme and alliteration, pun, wordplay, proper and "Babu" English chasing each other across the page in a dizzying, exhilarating cataract of words. Rushdie can be laugh-out-loud funny, but make no mistake--this is an angry book, and its author's outrage lends his language wings. Midnight's Children is Salman Rushdie's irate, affectionate love song to his native land--not so different from a Bombay talkie, after all. --Alix Wilber
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