FREE READ ¶ Fury By Salman Rushdie


Life is fury Fury sexual Oedipal political magical brutal drives us to our finest heights and coarsest depths This is what we are what we civilize ourselves to disguise the terrifying human animal in us the exalted transcendent self destructive untrammelled lord of creation We raise each other to the heights of joy We tear each other limb from bloody limbMalik Solanka historian of ideas and dollmaker extraordinary steps out of his life one day abandons his family without a word of explanation and flees to New Yor. Eat Me AmericaAnger unaccountable existentially driven psychologically depressing non—directive anger is the subject matter of Fury It is anger without a source and without any definite object pure anger at being alive It is anger that cannot be assuaged by apology or bought off by restitution If one were religious it might be directed toward God in a Job like tirade But in an atheist like Solly Solanka it can only be bottled up and leak out unexpectedly for the most trivial reasonSolly a cosmopolitan native of the sub continent is aware of his paradoxical situation He has no reason to be angry; yet he is This makes him angrier still The world is alien to him Not just the people but also the architecture the food the culture Everything irritates him from the insane chat of the cleaning lady to the trivialities of the gossip mags Every comment every sound every person grates He knows it’s his fault not theirs But does that really matter Solly collects dolls In fact he made a fortune through dolls not by collecting but by creating a best selling one called Little Brain His commercial success has allowed him to bail from his academic Cambridge donnery dondom donnage to join the New York glitterati as a media luvvie This is somewhat strange because one of the few things that Solly knows he is really really angry about is America He hates its foreign policies its garish superficiality its casual racism its self satisfied neediness to make anything worthwhile in the world into a commodity it ownsSolly has escaped Europe precisely because of what America is “America is the great devourer and so I have come to America to be devoured” he says His anger is not even noticed in America where everyone is angry about something and where there are even people like him who are angry about everything Solly is in his element the pseudo sophisticated sham of the Manhattan bien pensant baroue culture of death He doesn’t want to be a part of this culture he wants to be consumed by it as a response to his own self disgustUnfortunately all this anger goes nowhere It is never explained or resolved but peters out in an unfortunate and sordid set of romances Kingsley Amis’s Money covered or less the same ground but with much less hoopla and name dropping As an almost prophetic statement of the psychological situation of the world just prior to 911 I suppose it has merit But as a novel it’s a collection of snappy lines and even snappier digs that goes nowhere

FREE DOWNLOAD Fury By Salman Rushdie

Fury By Salman RushdWoman in a D'Angelo baseball cap is in store Also another woman with whom he will fall in love and be drawn towards a different fury whose roots lie on the far side of the world Fury is a work of explosive energy at once a pitiless and pitch black comedy a profoundly disturbing inuiry into the darkest side of human nature and a love story of mesmerising force It is also an astonishing portrait of New York Not since the Bombay of Midnight's Children have a time and place been so intensely and accurately captured in a nov. If you are a fan of the band Neutral Milk Hotel andor Rock Plaza Central you’re familiar with the way some of the songs descend into a glorious cacophonous mess at the end similar to The Beatles song “A Day in the Life” What seems to be a chaotic aural blend of instrumentation somehow works; it’s pleasing to the ear When I started Salman Rushdie’s Fury I had the same hope for it that somehow the jumbled chaos of characters settings and events would evolve into a story not simply understandable but beautiful and not beautiful in spite of its flaws but because of them Unfortunately I couldn’t have been wrongRushdie’s exegesis on the supposed furies that we all feel hinges on his protagonist Malik Solanka an Indian philosophy professor who previously lived in England but moved to The Big Apple when he suddenly found himself standing over his wife and children with a carving knife He became famous in England for making dolls specifically one called “Little Brain” a little girl puppet who interviews famous philosophers The show became a huge success Solanka sells out to commercial producers and this ultimately leads to his fury Oh and did I mention that he drinks A lot He’s not the most likable fellow on whom to pin a story; not that protagonists need to be likable look at Tolstoy or Dostoyevsky hell almost anything by an Eastern European author but they do need to be engrossing and sadly Solanka just isn’t Indeed every character in this book is simply a cardboard cutout Lifeless and un interesting And then there are the numerous sub plots the murders of NYC women for example that are never completely realized or related to Solanka so I uestion what they are even doing in the storyI understand that this is supposed to be satirical that Rushdie is poking fun at contemporary American life among the intellectual and the wealthy I also understand that he is playing with our conception of the furies female spirits of justice and vengeance of ancient Greek and Roman mythology “Life is fury Fury—sexual oedipal political magical brutal—drives us to our finest heights and coarsest depths This is what we are what we civilize ourselves to disguise—the terrifying human animal in us the exalted transcendent self destructive untrammeled lord of creation We raise each other to the heights of joy We tear each other limb from bloody limb” Solanka says However good satire is supposed to expose certain profound truths about its subjects and I don’t think Rushdie does this with any success He doesn’t make us feel for his characters in fact the entire story strikes me as a bit misogynistic and he doesn’t make us want to investigate what he is mocking Don’t peg me as a Rushdie hater; I loved Midnight’s Children But this definitely does not do for New York what Midnight’s Children did for Bombay This is a different Rushdie; this Rushdie has embraced certain critics’ views of his work the critics who praise him for doing things with style and language that no one else can accomplish and say that this makes up for his somewhat loose grip on plot and character development It’s almost as if he took these reviews as a personal challenge to see how far he could go before readers noticed that he’s just fucking with us And the result sucks

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FREE READ ¶ Fury By Salman Rushdie ë Life is fury Fury — sexual Oedipal political magical brutal — drives us to our finest heights and coarsest depths This is what we are what we civilize ourselves to disguise — the terrifying human animal in us the exalted transcendent self destructive untrammelled lord of creation We raise each other to K There's a fury within him and he fears he has become dangerous to those he loves He arrives in New York at a time of unprecedented plenty in the highest hour of America's wealth and power seeking to ‘erase’ himself Eat me America he prays and give me peaceBut fury is all around him Cab drivers spout invective A serial killer is murdering women with a lump of concrete The petty spats and bone deep resentments of the metropolis engulf him His own thoughts emotions and desires meanwhile are also running wild A young. I’d known before I picked this up that ‘Fury’ was one of his critically most damned works – despite that warning I gaily went ahead Because I’m simply in love with the genius of that man Of the 4 works I’ve read of his my reactions have ranged from ever growing adoration The Moor’s Last Sigh which I’ve read 9 times in 4 years and will read yet again to reluctant reading The Satanic Verses which has some nuggets of pure brilliance and heady defiance in an otherwise dump of garbage But never have I encountered such a disastrous piece of fiction especially by him Why do I read Rushdie Because I love his verbal density that draws blood under the garb of comic relief and unapologetic Bambaiya forbidden language of lavish absuses Because he deftly weaves complex layers of satire story telling and colonial history into a multi hued carpet full of motif signifiers and signs some of them obscure and some right in your face Because he is irreverent Because nothing is sacred to him Because he boldly says what needs to be said without mincing his words Because he insults where insults need to be thrown Because he is rude crude bitter sharp cynical unbowed unfettered – you cannot control him You cannot deny the truth in his fiction He breathes fire Because he cruelly lifts masks off the Grand Narratives about whoever he picks to star in his works Much of the really beautiful aspects of his works are esoteric – they are references that only people really deeply aware about India can understand so I’m not surprised at non Indians not falling so deeply in love with himI love people like that – who break taboos who make me swallow the bitter tinged filth of my identity when I open my mouth to laugh hard at his explicit expletive laden language Because his language is not just a gimmick to shock and scandalize – read between the lines and there is bitter biting sarcasm political satire loads of historicalcultural references psychological insights into the era of the setting the numerous popular culture references crucial to the shaping of that time It is a rich rich tapestry that is clever deep and entertaining And to many conservatives shamelessly offensive And I love thatBut none of it this time This is not the Rushdie I know and adore It’s almost like a ghost writer penning a Rushdie lookalike a dummy writer forging a pseudo Rushdie and failing miserably This book has no charm no intriguing layers of history culture political commentary vivid picturing of people places and their fetishes Where every single line had a meaning a reference a significance in his other works entire paragraphs here serve to do nothing but fill empty pages It is like someone ate away all the luscious cream from my chocolate truffle gateau leaving only the plain sponge behind mocking me with the erasureIn a word it is bland tasteless almost unmemorable The only time I caught a faint flicker of Rushdie was at the end of Chapter 9 where he attacked an extremely unpleasant aspect of Gandhi every Indian has either chosen to overlook or furiously deny and forget ”Like Gandhi performing his brahmacharya celibacy ‘experiments of truth’ when the wives of his friends lay with him at night to enable him to test the mastery of mind over limb he Solanka preserved the outward form of high propriety; and so did she so did she”The narrative is extremely disinterested even if the change in “trademark” Rushdie style is admitted – it just doesn’t connect with the reader Unlike some of his other works this has neither content nor style Solanka’s motivations even towards the end seem plain unbelievable Eleanor’s sudden appearance Neela’s sacrifice everything in fact seem too dry and contrived The only reason I did not lem this book was that I wanted to know if this ceaseless criticism on the book was justified or if it was plain unacceptance of any methodological deviance from the signature Rushdie styleAll I can say is that it was well deserved and I’m not going to waste my time dwelling on what already other reviewers have pointed out Off to something better