Following
the main protagonists, Saladin and Gibreel, Rushdie talks about these two
individuals and their journeys throughout this book as the personification of
good and evil, while giving both of them supernatural powers along the way. A
blend of many characters and ideas, this book try to raise the almost taboo questions
in even more taboo-some ways. Both highly controversial and brilliantly
written, The Satanic Verses has
proved to be a most difficult book that I have encountered so far.
First
of all, how should I begin this review? Because I have had many ideas as to how
I would start this review, each more compelling than other. And since I have
given the disclaimer, I think I can have all my thought-out introductions to
this review. So here goes nothing!
The
first time I heard about Rushdie was a couple of weeks ago when his newly
released novel Quichotte was
nominated for the Booker Prize 2019.
And when I went online to see who he was and what his popular books were, The Satanic Verses came out at the top,
of course. And when I read about the
fatwa issued against Rushdie for this novel in the Wikipedia, I knew, or
not so consciously yet, that this is going to be my next book.
My
further investigation about this book brought me to the documentary made on the
impact of The Satanic Verses at that
time and 30 years after, by BBC, under the title of The Satanic Verses: 30 years
on. After watching the documentary, both intrigued by the controversy
around it and Muslim’s aggressive hatred, even after 30 years, towards this
book, and also by the fact that not many Muslims had read or were willing to
read it, I knew I had to read this book. And read it now.
This
brought me to the search for this novel which, not only surprised me by the
unfoundibility of it here in Pakistan in bookstores or online, but even threatened
me as I went asking for it in book stores of Karachi. People just blocked my
sentences and told me to move on. Had I been a bit more aged, they might have
taken some action upon, but seeing me as a child who knows nothing, they
mercifully let me go.
Not
having the courage to visit any other stores, I had to print a copy of this
untouchable book myself. Back in Quetta, the printing shop owner didn’t react
at all when I went to print this book, but was rather a nice businessman who
only attended the matter at hand: printing the book. And even though I went
through some technical difficulties, which me and my friend thought as a sign
that Allah wanted us not to read it, during the printing of this book, we
nevertheless got a A4 paper size print of it which was easily the most gigantic
and heaviest book I have ever held. But now I had the book to read at least and
see what blasphemed lines were written that it evoked one of the most influential
Islamic leaders, Ayatollah Khomeini to issue a fatwa for Rushdie’s and the
publishers’ death.
“Ye
basti hain. Musalmano ki basti / yahan kaar-e-maseeha kyun karein hum?” (This
village belongs to the Muslims / why should we dare a Jewish act here?) These
two-lines are said by one of the most popular and most eloquent poets of Urdu,
Jaun Elia. And these lines, just like this book, are sarcastic in their
meaning. But unlike Jaun’s exhausted and given-up sounding lines, The Satanic Verses is keenly sarcastic
and at times overly bold and offensive. Rushdie is clearly not exhausted to
commit this Jewish act amongst the fundamentalist Muslims around the world – he
is rather enthusiastic about it.
And
now on to my final idea of starting this book: why does The Satanic Verses exist? Or why was it written? To be honest, I
might not have found a very clear and satisfying answer to this question, but I
will try, which I am not sure how, to answer this question as well as I have
understood this book after reading it. And a special thanks to the critical
review by Scott Trudell, and also to
the Encyclopedia.com for the precise
plot summary of the book which will help me a lot in writing, however
incomplete and inconclusive, review that I am about to write.
Initially,
after finishing this book, I found four things that I felt about this book: entertaining because of the unique, and
not-encountered-before writing style of Rushdie, boring because I rushed through this novel and mostly skim read
through the crowded, both by characters and the ungraspably magical themes, and
head-aching parts of the book, that one line about the unfair execution of writers, and lastly, I
found it offensive – for the reasons
well known, yet not known too.
But
reading both the in-depth review by Trudell and the plot summary by folks at Encyclopedia.Com, I have come to realize
and pick all the greatness that I skimmed over in this book, which overwhelmed
me so much that my back started to ache. And I had to take a back-massage,
before I came to the library to write the review. Amongst these new aspects of
the book that I found, I’d talk about: good and evil, absolutism in Islam,
magical realism writing style, treatment of women by the men of early Islam,
and of course, why Rushdie was so offensive, rather insulting in the two
chapters of this book.
So
let’s take it one by one. One from the borrowed lessons of Trudell and one from
my own ideas about the book after reading it.
Good
and evil: the two protagonists,
Saladin and Gibreel, are intended to be the personifications of the evil and
good respectively. Where Gibreel is the Farishta from the UperVala, God,
Saladin is the NeecheyVala, the Satan. But what’s interesting here is that Rushdie
never takes side here, so says Trudell, in a sense where Gibreel isn’t found
profoundly as capable and good as a Farishta is deeded to be. While Saladin too
is found to become Satanic unwillingly, and the evil that he will commit would
come unintentionally for the most part. What Rushdie tried to do with these two
main characters, was to blur the line between good and evil and not crown any
the champion. He also brings in the perspectives of Islam, philosophy, Allah
and the Qur’an to show how manly we have interpreted the meanings of good and
evil through the words of Allah in the shape of Qur’an, which Trudell says, is
somewhat independent of God – that humans used these verses to make line that
would benefit them and their desires. And through Saladin and Gibreel, Rushdie
tries to portray this image, however, with much difficulty for readers to
fathom.
Brilliantly
entertaining: you read the
first chapter, The Angel Gibreel, and
you immediately find yourself awed at the playfulness of Rushdie’s writing
style. He demolishes the fixated norms of mind about the life and human and
death, and instead constructs this magical persona where everything is possible
– if you can imagine it. And Rushdie masters in this skill of imagination. With
such delicacies different religious themes are intertwined and put to dance in
a beautifully magical way. You don’t get offended, but get rather gladdened
about what you’re reading. It is light, it is playful and it is magical! And
although, this magic loses its glow in the continuing chapters of the book, if
one is patient and attentive enough to its essence, then for this
characteristic of novel alone, The
Satanic Verses could be called a masterpiece. But alas, only the true
readers would understand and appreciate this.
Absolutism
in Islam: first in the documentary
and then in the review of Trudell, I came across this realization that how
final and conclusive Islam may appear to the world. Although as Muslims, we may
not point out a finger towards the absoluteness of our religion, because we may
not even know it is there, but it is quite evident for the people in general.
This is what Rushdie aimed to shatter. He wanted not only others, but also the
Muslims to allow ourselves and our religions for open criticism, to become able
to digest, sometimes offensive and rather blasphemed, arguments made against
Islam. But for the constructive reason of flexibility and maturity, which I
believe is the demand of the, now, modern and intellectual world, which would
not only make us appear as sound and healthy believers, but also give others
the chance to first understand and later even join Islam - a true religion of
peace and brotherhood. But unfortunately, this aim of Rushdie landed completely
off target amidst the chaos that it evoked and, quite oppositely, brought out
the extreme faces and beliefs of Muslims in general. I can’t un-remember this
comment on the short documentary video about this controversy around The Satanic Verses on YouTube: the P is Islam stands for Peace.
Inescapably
boring: besides the two
controversial chapters, and the first chapter in this book, I found myself
tiringly lagging in the others. And there were many reasons for this: first, I
was intrigued by the idea of what wrong was said and therefore I always
remained in search for it, but this book is much more than the lines that
evoked a fatwa. Second, this writing style was new to me. I could’ve embraced
it, or been bored by it. In the first chapter I embraced it, in the latter, I
didn’t. Third, the reason I didn’t continue to be aroused by the magical
realism of Rushdie was the complex and confusing integration of characters and
unfathomable plot twists thanks to the supernatural powers that our main
characters had. Fourth, this book is thick. For a fiction to be over 500 pages
long, it is definitely coming as a thick book and for which I lacked patience
and stamina to read it one step at a time. But, I say this with regret that I
missed a lot by rushing through this book. And reading the plot summary, thanks
God I did, I have come to realize how dearly I paid for being bored out of the
other part of this book. I take the blame here.
Magical
realism: what exactly is meant by
this? While Trudell might have a better explanation about this writing style,
I, for my part, can tell you how I found it to be. It a realistic blend of
magical imagination and the boring reality we are used to. Therefore, it is
entertaining as hell. I loved it thoroughly, even for the short amount of it
that I tasted. For example, you most certainly die, as everyone else does, when
a plane crashes. But then, you are born again, for Gibreel says, to be born
again, you first need to die. And here, he is talking about the spiritual
awakening. It is just one of the small examples taken from this book, and when
you read more of it, it becomes soul-and-mind-involvingly pleasing and
entertaining.
Baal’s
definitive line about writers:
“writers and whores, Mahound. We are the
people you can’t forgive.” Says Baal before he is being executed. And this
in particular, directed my attention to the writers who speaks the unspeakable
truths sometimes, who present the teaching of Islam in a different way which
most of the corrupt minded people find offensive. And because they are usually
in power, these writers, artists, are unfairly killed. The name Khalil Gibran comes to my mind, as I am
talking about the writers or poets or artists in general, who also faced unfair
and difficult challenges for speaking of the spiritual lessons that they had
gained access to, and also for portraying them in his paintings. So Muslims,
and not Islam, (or both I guess?) have been guilty of executing the artists who
dared to speak the other side of the things, which however divine, were sought
as blasphemy or insult. Maybe Rushdie knew people would come after him as he’d publish
this book, so he put out this word beforehand.
Women: I did believe, and still do, though not as firmly,
that the early Islam treated women better than any other practices of religions
or of atheists did at that time. But after reading these, however horrific and
extravagantly spiced, stories about the lowly treatment of women by the Muslim men,
I did feel a bit shocked and guilty as well. Because underneath those spiced up
stories, there were truths that we didn’t talk or hear about until now. As
Trudell pointed out this unequal treatment of women in his review as a
significant of part of why Rushdie went the ‘blasphemic’ route, I felt somewhat
justified. Because this ugly truth had to be spoken, and we shouldn’t be,
probably, as proud as we are regarding the equal treatment of women whether in
the past or present.
Feeling
offended and betrayed: I felt betrayed
because I wanted this book not to be what it was pictured as; I wanted it to be
right among the false claims against it; I expected it to be not this insulting
when I strived to make this book available for me. And thus, I was betrayed.
But I was offended as well. Not as much as me going to burn the book as a sign
of protest from my side, or call Rushdie punishable for death – who am I to do
that? And who were they who did? But would I call it blasphemy, for this to be
written in such seemingly intended ways to be insulting at core? Yes. But not
punishable. Most definitely, I would have Rushdie under severe criticism about
what he has written, and even condemn him for writing such shamefully insulting
chapters (not a novel!); but he would already know that after all these years.
Was it necessary? This direct hit on the feelings and beliefs of the Muslims in
general, no matter how absolutists they are? Was it the right way to minimize
this absolutism or start a debate about the shieldedness of Islam? I think not.
It wasn’t necessary to this extreme end. I am hurt. I am offended.
In
Rushdie’s defense: Trudell didn’t
seem mildly offended, though he did point out both the chapters for its
offensive contents, at least as offended as a Muslim, even a liberal one like
me, would understandably be. He did rather spoke in favor of Rushdie in some
ways, saying that such a challenging book had to be written, which isn’t at all
easy to write, for the extremely isolating walls of Islam to break that shield
it from any kind of criticism of improvement. In an interview about The Satanic Verses, the Human Rights personnel during this
answer towards the existence of this controversial book, compared Rushdie’s
book to that of Galileo’s discovery, and said that such a work or effort comes
along in a century, and while it may be found unacceptable, rather punishable
as witnessed, at first, it nevertheless goes on to be an historic event that
changed the course of history. Now isn’t that a bit too far-fetched as to
valuing this book? Maybe, it is. But I wouldn’t know because I’ve just read it.
But I also don’t see such a big change in the ideology of Islam because of this
book, except that it evoked the extremists to come out and kill any further
possibility of such a book to come out, probably ever.
But
does that mean that extremists won over the freedom of speech? I don’t think
so. Rushdie is alive, and I am happy for that. I am in favor of that. He is an
extraordinary writer, and we as readers, and as readers only, need writers like
him to write amazing books for each to learn from and take soulfully pleasures.
And the fact that a person like me can strive to make available this book and
read, regardless of my uncertainty around what I am taking away from this book,
even after 30 years, is a sign that Rushdie did, though in unpreferable ways,
write a book that compels its readers to think a little unbiasedly and a little
deeper and more calmly.
So,
why was this book written? Or why does
this exist? I may have given a rather long, yet not emphatic, answer in the
above paragraphs, but the answer does lie there. We needed this as an awakening
call, as a novel that would entertain its readers with such awesome writing
style, as a novel that would raise big questions against the current ideologies
Islam for the better image of it, as a novel that would show the power of the
pen into shaking the whole world. But we didn’t need this also for its gravely
insulting and directly offensive contents that would hurt even the most liberal
Muslims like me – and even 30 years on.
“…to name the unnamable, point at
frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world and stop it from going
to sleep.”
It
is by far the most controversial and difficult, in many and different ways,
book that I have read so far. We I think about this book, the regretful thought
as to why I read this book does pass my mind for the reasons that I couldn’t
comprehend it as well as Rushdie had intended, and also for being guilty after
reading the offensive parts and being shamefully, though very mildly,
entertained by it. Therefore, I can’t recommend it. It is straight and directed
when it comes to offend the Muslim readers, and otherwise too magical and
imagination-demanding that it requires a reader of immense patience and
open-mindedness to read this book as it should be read – which I may not,
specifically, know how – yet.
As a reader:
“Magically imaginative, brilliantly entertaining, and
awe-inspiringly written and achieved –
a mystical dance of religions, philosophy, imagination
and ones astonishing ideas.”
As a Muslim:
“Essential yet a failure at landing its aim on the target;
a book, though brilliantly unique, lost among the chaos it evoked around the
world with its few yet unnecessary, offensive and insulting contents.
At times unreadable, at others, deserving to be shut
and never opened again.”
Ratings: 3/5 ***