Knife: Meditations After an Attempted Murder

by Salman Rushdie

From internationally renowned writer and Booker Prize winner Salman Rushdie, a searing, deeply personal account of enduring—and surviving—an attempt on his life thirty years after the fatwa that was ordered against him

On the morning of August 12, 2022, Salman Rushdie was standing onstage at the Chautauqua Institution, preparing to give a lecture on the importance of keeping writers safe from harm, when a man in black—black clothes, black mask—rushed down the aisle toward him, wielding a knife. His first thought: So it’s you. Here you are.

What followed was a horrific act of violence that shook the literary world and beyond. Now, for the first time, and in unforgettable detail, Rushdie relives the traumatic events of that day and its aftermath, as well as his journey toward physical recovery and the healing that was made possible by the love and support of his wife, Eliza, his family, his army of doctors and physical therapists, and his community of readers worldwide.

Knife is Rushdie at the peak of his powers, writing with urgency, with gravity, with unflinching honesty. It is also a deeply moving reminder of literature’s capacity to make sense of the unthinkable, an intimate and life-affirming meditation on life, loss, love, art—and finding the strength to stand up again.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Audiobook, Biography, Biography Memoir, True Crime, Autobiography

209 pages, Hardcover

First published April 16, 2024

About the author

Sir Ahmed Salman Rushdie is an Indian-born British and American novelist. His work often combines magic realism with historical fiction and primarily deals with connections, disruptions, and migrations between Eastern and Western civilizations, typically set on the Indian subcontinent. Rushdie's second novel, Midnight's Children (1981), won the Booker Prize in 1981 and was deemed to be "the best novel of all winners" on two occasions, marking the 25th and the 40th anniversary of the prize.
After his fourth novel, The Satanic Verses (1988), Rushdie became the subject of several assassination attempts and death threats, including a fatwa calling for his death issued by Ruhollah Khomeini, the supreme leader of Iran. In total, 20 countries banned the book. Numerous killings and bombings have been carried out by extremists who cite the book as motivation, sparking a debate about censorship and religiously motivated violence. In 2022, Rushdie survived a stabbing at the Chautauqua Institution in Chautauqua, New York.
In 1983, Rushdie was elected a fellow of the Royal Society of Literature. He was appointed a Commandeur de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres of France in 1999. Rushdie was knighted in 2007 for his services to literature. In 2008, The Times ranked him 13th on its list of the 50 greatest British writers since 1945. Since 2000, Rushdie has lived in the United States. He was named Distinguished Writer in Residence at the Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute of New York University in 2015. Earlier, he taught at Emory University. He was elected to the American Academy of Arts and Letters. In 2012, he published Joseph Anton: A Memoir, an account of his life in the wake of the events following The Satanic Verses. Rushdie was named one of the 100 most influential people in the world by Time magazine in April 2023.
Rushdie's personal life, including his five marriages and four divorces, has attracted notable media attention and controversies, particularly during his marriage to actress Padma Lakshmi.

Reviews

[Roxane · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a tough book to evaluate. What works well is the lucidity with which Rushdie articulates his own experience of a very public act of terror. He went through something life shattering and is remarkably poised in sharing how he and his family navigated the trauma.

It was also interesting when he spoke to the decades long trauma of the fatwa issued after the publication of The Satanic Verses. To be able to write and live a public life while being haunted by precarity is no small feat.

I would have liked to see more depth of reflection. But is that fair to ask of a memoir? I don’t know.

[Flo · Rating 5 out of 5]

A must read

Words can't be destroyed in a healthy society. As long as they hold meaning for people, books are indestructible, especially in the digital age. Unfortunately, humans are more fragile, and authors become targets for dangerous extremists who cannot accept another opinion.Salman Rushdie is a powerful man. He not only survived an attempted murder but also decades of attacks and restrictions.

'Knife' talks about all that in a profound and meaningful way. It is a rare non-fiction book written by one of the greatest contemporary fiction writers. It shows a courageous man who, despite all the hate he received, still found a way to live a happy and fulfilled life.

[Meike · Rating 4 out of 5]

Now a Finalist for the National Book Award for Nonfiction 2024
It's hard to categorize this text, and that's where the intrigue lies: Sure, it's a kind of a memoir depicting the 13 months following the knife attack in Chautauqua, New York, in August 2022, but it's also an intense psychological self-portrait and, as the sub-title suggests, a meditation on survival techniques against all despair. Ayatollah Khomeini's fatwa against Rushdie was issued in 1989, he was stabbed 33 years later - how insane is it to have your life that you have dedicated to telling people stories constantly invaded by life-threatening idiocy so absurd it's almost impossible to grasp that it's even real?

And Rushdie's imagined conversation with his attacker is very clear regarding the social status and intellectual capacity of the guy - and here's a left-field connection for you, because I'm pretty sure Rushdie has never heard the biggest hit of German punk rock heroes Die Ärzte, an anti-fascist smasher that describes a young isolated man with low self-esteem who gets radicalized - and the chorus culminates in the chant "oh-oh-oh Arschloch!", which is exactly how Rushie calls his attacker, whom he imagines to be just like the dude in the Ärzte song, throughout his book: A. (okay, it could stand for assassin, but I'm pretty sure it's asshole).

Rushdie juxtaposes horrifying depictions of his injuries, time in the hospital and inner turmoil with tales about what got him through: His family and friends, and also public solidarity. In a way, this is also a written monument of survival, crafted by a guy extremists want to kill so he will finally shut up. But he won't. And while he's afraid he might now be "the guy who got stabbed", this also won't be true: Rushdie is the world-renowned storyteller who has written books so powerful that they terrify fundamentalists into trying to stop him from telling more stories. They should be terrified of all the people who read Rushdie's works and stand with him, because we are too many to defeat.

Rushdie made a movie about the attack: "Through a Glass Darkly"
You can also sing along with tens of thousands of people screaming "A...." with Die Ärzte here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=paXR7...

[Roman Clodia · Rating 4 out of 5]

One has to find life, I said. One can't just sit about recovering from near death. One has to find life.

I think it's the lack of complete shaping and the unsmoothed edges of this book that speak most eloquently of the trauma that Rushdie relives here: the shock, the agony, the fear, the vulnerability of a man in his mid-seventies experiencing not just a murderous attack but the huge aftermath that is personal, public and artistic. There's a definite sense that this book is not just a way of reclaiming the narrative, a refusal of being reduced to no more than victimhood, but also a way of re-establishing a voice, an authority and, I suspect, a sense of self.

We all know the horror of that attack in August 2022 but the private struggle to repair body, mind and spirit is recounted here in unsparing detail. The style is quite unlike the flashy, flamboyant, exuberant prose of Rushdie's fiction: this is plain, sober, humble. What comes over most strongly is Rushdie's immense love for his wife, for his sons and for his friends. There is grace in this memoir which is dedicated to the people who saved his life, and which is hopeful but also unsure about the future.

Rushdie has always been, for me, an immensely intelligent writer who merges Indian and western literary traditions to often dazzling and spectacular effect. He has been politically outspoken and unafraid to stand up for what he believes in: art, literature, a liberal progressiveness and democratic fairness. This book feels like a reckoning with what that has cost him and the people close to him: it is clear-sighted, aware all too well of mortality and yet remains stalwart. Will Rushdie write another novel? Will he, as he puts it, find another story? I can only hope so.

Thanks to Random House/Vintage for an ARC via NetGalley

[Edward Champion · Rating 2 out of 5]

I want to be clear that I obviously DO NOT support stabbing writers. Even writers as obnoxious as Salman Rushdie. I also want to be clear that I feel nothing but empathy and sorrow for what Rushdie went through on August 12, 2022. Nobody should ever go through that. But Jesus Christ, dude. You had ONE job! And that was to tell your story. But instead you wallowed in being a victim. with an Everest-sized ego. You LOVED being the center of attention. You doubled, nay tripled, nay quarupled down on the remarkable hubris that EVERYONE in the literary world knows you for and here, at the VERY MOMENT IN WHICH EVERYONE IN THE FUCKING WORLD COMMISERATES WITH YOU, you proved yourself to be a completely insufferable prick, incapable of humility or grace or reflection.

If I told you that Rushdie actually devoted a passage bemoaning the damage done to his Ralph Lauren suit, you'd think it was satire, right? But, no, he actually WROTE this. This would literally be the last thing on 99.9999% of people's minds.

Oh, and there's also a longass imagined dialogue Rushdie has with his attacker. And for all of Rushdie's "imagination," it's exactly what you think it is. Predictable. Unimaginative.

Literally any other writer in the world who had the misfortune to experience something this terrible would have written one of the best books of his/her life. But Rushdie is the exact opposite of that. The dude literally believes that he's the greatest writer that humankind has ever bestowed upon the universe. And while I feel utterly awful about what happened to Rushdie, I also felt utterly awful having to soldier through his cloying victimhood and his constant bragging. Yes, cloying. There is literally NO OTHER WRITER ON EARTH who could have written something this self-aggrandizing and bereft of humility or self-examination. But here's the thing. Rushdie KNOWS you'll buy into this bullshit. I mean, look at the Goodreads rating in the first week of release. He played you all for suckers.

It's truly a pity. Because here was a real opportunity for Rushdie to show us that he was different. But he's absolutely indistinguishable from any other privileged tosspot.

[Helga · Rating 5 out of 5]

We would not be who we are today without the calamities of our yesterdays.

Knife is Rushdie’s account of the attempt on his life on August 11, 2022 in Chautauqua during a lecture.

He begins this autobiographical contemplation from the day before the horrifying incident and takes us to a journey which would have been filled with unbearable pain, hopelessness and despair but for the love and helping hands of his wife, family and friends.

I have always believed that love is a force, that in its most potent form it can move mountains. It can change the world.

This book is the sum of experiences of one man on the brink of death.
This book is heartbreaking and shocking. It is funny and bright. It makes you laugh, chuckle and often shed tears.
This book is a closing of a circle.
We begin from violence; from blood and tears. We ponder. We evaluate. We question.
We say, bravo! We say, he did it, so can we.
This book brightens the mood and defines life anew.

One has to find life, I said. One can’t just sit about recovering from near death. One has to find life.

[rachy · Rating 1 out of 5]

Rushdie’s situation is and always has been so unique, even more so given the recent attempt on his life, so I knew once this was announced I would definitely read it. Though it was a bit of a slog, I did like ‘Midnight’s Children’ well enough, and for such a rare thing to happen to an author of all people, who wouldn’t be at least somewhat interested in reading what they have to say about it? How often do you get that chance? Unfortunately, something I had entirely failed to consider happened instead. That this coinciding of fascinating event and profession might not actually produce something of much merit at all.

Far be it for me to suggest what someone who has been through such a thing should have to say about it, but I think the thing I struggled with the most is the things Rushdie chose to write about here. They just didn’t interest me. I didn’t need some long graphic account of how it feels to have a knife in your neck or in your eye, but it was surprising just how little time he spent on the attack itself, both the action and his emotional response to it. Now, this would have been plenty forgivable if he forwent this in favour of further revelations, things the attack affected or changed in him in terms of life, love, about his career or his writing. But really, this was pretty absent too. Yes, he mentioned those things, he mentioned that the attack made him think about these things, but really he delves into almost none in any kind of powerful or meaningful way. It didn’t even feel like the opposite, a reaction of defiance, a refusal to be changed by such an event. There was simply little of much substance.

For example, he does talk about love, but rather than any profundities from a new perspective this event may have given to him, he just kind of strangely gushed about how perfect his relationship is and has been. Over and over. It really read like a teen boasting about their newest infatuation, just insisting over and over again how strong and perfect their love was but without giving me any real sense of it. All of the things he said about his wife just felt like cliches and platitudes, things I’ve heard a dozen times before.

Too much of it, in this sense and others, also just read like a basic diary. A lot of it was a very direct account of the exact medical issues and remedies in the order they appeared and disappeared. It’s not that I didn’t want or expect these details from this book, but more I expected them in relation to larger philosophical or emotional sentiments, about the impact they may have had on Rushdie. But alas, none of this. Plenty of banal and exact detail, things like what movie he watched, or which particular friend came to visit, what test they may have run, none of how this might change him or not, how it really made him feel on a deeper level.

There is also the element that Rushdie is just kind of lame, lacking in the wit he desperately wants. His bad jokes aren’t even endearing in that dadly kind of way, they just inflict second hand embarrassment. And on that note, the less said about the 30 page imagined interview with his attacker the better. A truly pointless section that just felt so peculiar. Bizarre and uncomfortable enough that I stopped the book here and couldn’t bring myself to even finish those last 40 pages or so.

I’m loathe to say it, because it’s so stupid, but we live in stupid times, so I want to make it clear. I obviously think what happened to Rushdie is abhorrent and my reaction to this volume is a disappointment of its quality, not a reflection of how I feel about what happened to him. I equally believe that Rushdie is entitled to feel however he feels, and say whatever he wants to say about it. But that also doesn’t mean I believe it’s interesting enough to read. One of the sentiments expressed by one of Rushdie’s editors in this is that he’s sure he will write about it, and clearly he did. But I can’t help but think this is the kind of thing he should have written to get out of his system, put away, and then channelled his deeper feelings into his next work of fiction. To me, this volume was ultimately kind of pointless, and really offered me little to no insights. I read the majority of it, and I could hardly tell you of any deeper impact it might have had on Rushdie as person, which after reading almost a whole memoir about it is just dumb. It just felt like it was barely about what it was supposed to be about, and therein lay my biggest disappointment.

[Ian Payton · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an immensely personal, intimate, moving, and powerful account of 13 months in Salman Rushdie’s life. On 12 August 2022, when he is about to start a lecture at the Chautauqua Institution, a man rushes onto the stage and attacks him with a knife. This almost claimed Rushdie’s life, and cost him the sight in one eye. The book charts 13 months of the physical and emotional impact of this attack on Rushdie and those in his closest circles of love and friendship. His account of the incident, and the impact it had on his physical health, his wife and family, is eloquent and moving.

The book is divided into two parts. The first part deals with the attack itself, and the aftermath of hospitalisation and rehab. The description of the attack is intense and immediate, and feels immensely personal. The second part is reflective on Rushdie reclaiming some sense of normality, and trying to find some perspective for the incident and its ongoing impact on his life.

I knew very little about Salman Rushdie before reading this - beyond the fact of the fatwa issued in 1989 for his death, due to the content of his book The Satanic Verses. And it was the long tail of that fatwa that, ultimately, and obtusely, resulted in the knife attack. Rushdie draws on his knowledge of history, politics, art, literature, and philosophy to try to bring meaning and context to what has happened to him.

It’s difficult to find fault with such a personal, honest, introspective - and, ultimately, engaging and well told - account.

Thank you #NetGalley and Random House UK / Vintage for the free review copy of #Knife in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

[Trevor Abbott · Rating 5 out of 5]

Rushdie’s fear is being known for his attacks and not his work. I’m here to say that the world can shun him, critique him, and even blind him, but they cannot silence him or his powerful literary works. That voice stands on its own.

[Hannah · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve read most of his books, and I’m always struck by the vastness of his imagination. Satanic Verses was the first time I’d encountered magical realism, and I remember being grateful to be at a liberal arts college (Mount Holyoke) that was teaching it as part of an Islam class. My second book was Midnight’s Children, and that was the first time I’d learned about the Indian-Pakistani partition (also taught at Mount Holyoke as part of an Indian literature class). Since then, I’ve read almost every one of his books, and I’ve gained so much from all of them. So I was filled with sadness to find out that the reason he now wears eyeglasses with one side blacked out was due to a stabbing.

[Aly Lauck]

So moving. Feel a little uncomfortable rating such a personal account. Rushdie is a trailblazer. The internal struggle he went through to come to terms with why his attacker did what he did was palpable.

Really glad I got to read this. Enjoyed and was moved immensely.

[Seemita · Rating 5 out of 5]

I sat with this book for a long time. I didn’t know what I felt more – angry or hopeful.

‘I would answer violence with art.’

But how to do it? Especially when one imagines the intensity, the horror, the sheer inexplicability of violence? Violence that beats its bare chest over the unarmed, defenceless body of a 75-years old man, turning bloody at an alarming rate under the merciless, unflinching, repeated stabs of a sharp knife, driven by a brain-washed bigot of mere 24-years, a mind-boggling fourteen times over twenty-seven long seconds? Violence that snips the connection with loved ones and rams one’s very existence into the limbo that carries no certainty of a morning?

How does one answer such violence with art?

In Knife, Salman Rushdie, truly, rises to become that artist who defies norms of pain, injustice and loss with his sublime friendship with words, and relationships forged in their hearth.

August 12, 2022 at Chautauqua turned his life upside down. The dark shadows of a fatwa issued 33 years ago, once again, blackened his sky and fell on him in murderous stabs. The stabs charted a manic path, ripping through multiple organs – palm, fingers, face, lips, neck, chest – and erasing one altogether. The left eye - the vision in it was gone.

Emergency admission and a series of complex surgeries held the life whiff from leaving him completely. But what lay ahead was the most arduous eight months of his life – the recovery, of body and (badly damaged) spirit.

When Death comes very close to you, the rest of the world goes far away and you can feel a great loneliness. At such a time kind words are comforting and strengthening. They make you feel that you're not alone, that maybe you haven't lived and worked in vain. Over the next twenty-four hours I became aware of how much love there was flowing in my direction, a world-wide avalanche of horror, support, and admiration.

The ardent love and support of his wife, Eliza Griffith meets the dogged belief of his children of his recovery, the immediate action of the Chautauqua staff and audience (of whom one kept his thumb on Salman’s neck so that the bleeding is arrested till the helicopter comes to pick him up from the venue) multiplies with the resolve of his doctors and other medical staff, rousing gathering of his fellow writers and readers augments his pen that brings Victory City, and the Knife, to blazing life.

I have seen death, up close. It chooses its people. And sometimes, we cannot make sense of its decisions. Why? Why? We bang the doors of anyone who cares to withstand our unravelling and ask – Why him? Why her? There are answers, perhaps. But none of them hit home. Salman, once back in America, still frail but spirited, meets friends who are fighting their own battles. Martin Amis, his friend for long, writes this heartwarming note:

“When we recently saw each other for the first time since the atrocity, I have to admit that I expected you to be altered, diminished in some way. Not a bit of it: you were and are intact and entire. And I thought with amazement, He's EQUAL to it."

Few months later, Martin left peacefully in sleep. If Salman was troubled by it, he doesn’t hide it. Why him?

Time spent with his dear friends – Martin Amis, Ian McEwan, Paul Auster – fortified his own restoration. Remembering the barbaric knife attacks on other writers like Naguib Mahfouz and Samuel Beckett brought him a stabilizing perspective of discarding rationale to such dastardly acts. Perhaps that’s why he finds the courage to steer clear of the imaginary conversations he was holding with his attacker, whom he named Mr. A, across multiple sessions. But how else could he have made peace with his (near) nemesis if not with words? How else would he have turned his howls and torment into barbs of humor if not with words? Words were his only weaponry.

And the most beautiful part of words? They are entirety in themselves. They need no crutches, no form, no closure. Unsuppressed words can fly till sky and drag the greys away. That’s precisely what the words do for Salman – all the words of family, friends, writers, readers take him to a place, after thirteen months, where it all began – Chautauqua. And as he stands at the exact spot where he had fallen, looking at the now empty amphitheater, he feels triumphant.

‘I remembered, but refrained from reciting, lines from "Invictus" by W. E. Henley. “Under the bludgeonings of chance/My head is bloody, but unbowed."’

Thank you for writing this book. I feel a throbbing vein of resilience in its every page.

--

Note: We lost Paul Auster yesterday. But he shall live on in his words. Many, many of them, quietly, rousingly, honoring their master.

[Fátima Linhares · Rating 4 out of 5]

Enquanto não abordasse o ataque, não conseguiria escrever mais nada. Compreendi que tinha de escrever o livro que o leitor agora lê antes de poder passar a qualquer outra coisa. Escrever seria a minha maneira de possuir o que acontecera, assumir o seu controlo, torná-lo meu, recusar-me a ser uma mera vítima. Responderia à violência com arte.


A leitura deste livro estava parada desde 11 de Setembro do ano que há pouco findou. Na altura, começou a ser aborrecido ler o relato do Sr. Salman. No entanto, ontem deu-me qualquer coisa, um amoque ou assim, e apeteceu-me terminar esta leitura. Como hoje de manhã acordei com a tempestade, por que não ler algumas páginas? Foi isso que fiz e comecei a gostar do livro e a não me sentir entediada como em Setembro. Acho que o diálogo imaginado entre o autor e o seu carrasco era dispensável, a certa altura até me perdi no quem é quem. No restante, é um relato, a meu ver, honesto e racional sobre um acontecimento a que o autor sobreviveu, apesar de as probabilidades de quinar terem sido bastante superiores.


Aproveito para inaugurar uma nova rubrica nas minhas avaliações/opiniões: Priberam, me ajude!

Bambúrrio: acaso feliz. Golpe de sorte inesperado.

Começou bem. 😅

[Paula Mota]

Diz-se que as últimas palavras de Henry James foram: “Ei-la finalmente, a coisa admirável.” A morte vinha ao meu encontro, também, mas não me parecia admirável. Pereceu-me anacrónica.

Este é o primeiro livro de Salman Rushdie que leio (apesar de já ter tentado fazê-lo anteriormente), e é estranhamente humano que ele tenha quase deixado de existir para eu querer mesmo saber o que ele tem a dizer, mas a verdade é que é muito fácil entrar e avançar ao longo do relato de “Faca”. Apesar de estar a par do ataque que sofreu e das mazelas físicas daí advindas, o relato na primeira pessoa é claro, acerado, muito assustador e realmente gráfico, transportando o leitor para aquele palco, para o hospital e para todo o processo de recuperação e reabilitação.

Os lábios do homem no espelho não se movem. Tem um golpe no cimo da testa. Tem um corte no canto esquerdo da boca. Tem a barba muito crescida e revolta. Tem a pálpebra direita cosida. Consegue evacuar com êxito. Consegue lavar-se e limpar-se. O seu olho único parece triste. O rosto parece chocado. Está a desempenhar bem o seu papel.

É este processo que diz respeito à primeira parte, “Anjo da Morte”, um período compreendido entre 22 de agosto e 26 de setembro de 2022. É uma descrição do ataque, da forma como foi socorrido e tratado, mas também uma análise profunda sobre os acontecimentos que conduziram à sua sentença de morte e sobre a fragilidade da vida, onde não deixa de incluir grandes amigos seus, como Martin Amis, que morreu enquanto Rushdie escrevia o livro, e Paul Auster, que morreu após a sua publicação.

De acordo com os relatos noticiosos, o A. esteve 27 segundos comigo. Em 27 segundos – caso esteja em maré de religiosidade – a pessoa pode recitar o padre-nosso. Ou, abstendo-se da religião, poderia ler em voz alta um dos sonetos de Shakespeare, aquele sobre o dia de verão, talvez, ou meu favorito [e o meu também], o nº 13, “Minha amante nos olhos sol não tem”. (…) Uma intimidade de estranhos. É uma frase que utilizei por vezes para expressar aquela coisa jubilosa que acontece no ato da leitura, essa feliz união das vidas interiores de autor e leitor.

A segunda parte, “Anjo da Vida”, é a outra face desta moeda, aquela que me desiludiu. Não dou classificação quantitativa a obras autobiográficas porque o olhar crítico de que abuso aplica-se sem remorsos aos escritores mas menos às pessoas, pois se elas sentiram isto e pensaram aquilo, não merecem mais ou menos pontuação. Tendo dito isto, para mim, “Faca” divide-se em três momentos de empatia: a primeira em que a senti completamente em relação a um homem que é cobardemente atacado, sendo ainda para mais um escritor a defender a liberdade de expressão; a segunda em que ela treme, porque Rushdie imagina um extenso e fastidioso diálogo filosófico e religioso com o seu agressor; e a terceira em que deixei de simpatizar com o autor pelas opções que tomou, que está no direito de tomar, mas que não me caíram bem.

A prisão era um pequeno conjunto de modestos edifícios de tijolo. (…) Tirei-lhe uma fotografia e mandei-a a Sameen, que me enviou de volta uma mensagem de texto: “Parece tão vulgar.” Parecia mesmo. Mas teve um efeito inesperado em mim. Enquanto estava a olhar para lá, tentando imaginar o A. algures lá dentro, com o seu uniforme prisional branco e preto, senti-me disparatadamente feliz e apeteceu-me, absurdamente, dançar. “Para com isso”, alertou-me Eliza. “Quero tirar uma fotografia tua em frente deste sítio e não deves estar a sorrir ou aos saltos.”

Já li recensões escandalizadas pela obsessão de Rushdie pelo fato Ralph Lauren que envergava no dia do ataque ter ficado ensopado em sangue, mas sei que é comum numa situação de vida ou morte as pessoas dizerem ou pensarem nas coisas mais absurdas que pouco têm a ver com a finitude da vida. Contudo, o facto de ele ter voltado a mencionar o mesmo fato no final, já em retrospectiva, juntamente com um comentário totalmente desnecessário sobre a mala que ofereceu à mulher em Florença, dá-me a ideia de um novo-rico que já podia ter deixado de ser aos 75 anos.

Não seríamos quem somos hoje sem as calamidades dos nossos ontens.

NOTA: Numa época em que as conversões se fazem com um clique na Internet, só posso entender como uma enorme preguiça a opção do tradutor manter as unidades de medida americanas/inglesas. Que sentido tem para um português saber, por exemplo, que Rushdie pesava 250 libras e que devia pesar menos 50?

[Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Profound, wise and humane. Not only does this impressive, small, and very personal book tell us what is like to survive attempted murder, it also offers valuable reflections on what is like to be a writer and a human being. Above all, it is very well written, with the precision and honesty that characterise a true master.

[Lorna · Rating 4 out of 5]

We are other, no longer what we were before the calamity of yesterday. —SAMUEL BECKET

And with that beautiful and poignant epigraph, Salman Rushdie begins his courageous memoir Knife: Mediations After an Attempted Murder relating how his life was irrevocably changed on a bright sunny morning in upstate New York on August 12, 2022. While speaking at a writer’s conference at Chautauqua, ironically about the safety of writers, Salman Rushdie was attacked on stage by a man wielding a knife and stabbing him at least fifteen times. What follows is the aftermath of this attack and how he healed both physically and psychologically over the next year. Salman Rushdie first gained international attention with the publication of The Satanic Verses in 1988 and the controversy it created. Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini of Iran condemned the book and issued a fatwa in 1989 calling for the killing of Rushdie as well as his editors and publishers. But this attack apparently had nothing to do with that fatwa.

Salman Rushdie is an Indian-born British and American novelist with his works combining magic realism with historical fiction. His many works encompass the many connections, disruptions, and migrations between Eastern and Western civilizations, typically set in India.

Knife is often a jarring and unsettling book as Rushdie explores how his life was upended and how he fought his way back sharing his struggles as his own life had been transformed by violence. Because he is a gifted writer, he often relies on the arts and history to buttress his journey through the physical and psychological trauma. This is also a love story and how he and his wife Rachel Eliza Griffith, an American artist, poet and novelist, fought to regain a measure of normalcy in their lives after the unthinkable. With his new outlook on life as he reviewed this manuscript, he realized that he could not just be content with his private pleasure but still must reach out in our world. I will end with the quotation that captures what Salman Rushdie will continue to embrace in his fight to better our world.

“Love, above all things, and work, of course, but there was a war to fight on many fronts—against the bigoted revisionism that sought to rewrite history, whether in New Delhi or in Florida; against the cynical powers that sought to erase the two original sins of the United States, slavery and the oppression and genocide of the continent’s original inhabitants; against the fantasies of an idealized past. . . .; against the self-harming lies that had taken Britain out of Europe. I could not sit idly by while these battles raged. In this struggle, too, I would—I had to—remain involved.”

[Great-O-Khan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Die Fakten zu dem Attentat auf Salman Rushdie am 12. August 2022 sind bekannt. In "Knife" geht es um die Wahrheit dahinter. Es geht um die Details des Attentats, des Überlebenskampfes und der langsamen Genesung. Dabei sind die Gedanken des Autors genauso wichtig wie die medizinischen Aspekte.

Es geht um das Leben und Schreiben von Salman Rushdie, aber auch um die Zerstörung seines Privatlebens durch das Messer des Attentäters.

Rushdies Partnerin Eliza wurde durch die Ereignisse unfreiwillig auch zur öffentlichen Person. Ohne das Attentat hätte wohl niemand erfahren, dass die beiden am 24. September 2021 geheiratet haben. Rushdie setzt dem erzwungenen sein eigenes, liebevolles Bild seiner Frau entgegen.

Salman Rushdie berichtet von den Reaktionen seiner Familie. Er findet dabei eine gute Balance zwischen Diskretion und Nähe.

Sein Roman "Victory City" kommt heraus. Immer wieder bekommen wir Einblicke in Rushdies Leidenschaft für die Literatur. An eine Lesereise ist aber nicht zu denken.

Rushdie führt ein fiktives Gespräch mit seinem Attentäter. Es geht vor allem um Religion. Am Ende des Buches werden die anstehenden Gerichtsprozesse thematisiert. Salman Rushdie und Eliza sehen sich das Gefängnis an, in dem der Attentäter einsitzt.

Salman Rushdie hat dem Attentäter und den Befürwortern seiner Tat mit diesem Buch gezeigt, dass Kunst stärker ist als Hass. "Auf Gewalt wollte ich mit Kunst antworten." Er hat dem Schrecklichen die Literatur entgegengesetzt. Die Literatur hat gewonnen.

[Traci Thomas · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a solid literary version of a true crime memoir. It’s exactly what you think it is. Rushdie gives us his own recollections on the attack along with his journey toward healing and logistics of it all. He also adds a meta scene where he imagines a convo with his assailant that we didn’t need. Overall it’s good if not a bit surface and perfunctory.

[Harun Ahmed · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5/5

"তুমি কেন বেঁচে গেছো জানো? তোমার ঘাতক জানতো না ছুরি দিয়ে কীভাবে মানুষ খুন করতে হয়।"

knife নিয়ে আমার প্রথম প্রতিক্রিয়া হচ্ছে -  "terrific and tiresome," দারুণভাবে শুরু হলেও যে গল্প কোথাও কোথাও ঝুলে পড়েছে, বিরক্তির উদ্রেক করেছে কিন্তু সব মিলিয়ে গুরুত্বপূর্ণ।
স্বভাবতই বইয়ের প্রথম অংশে আছে রুশদির ওপর হওয়া হামলার বর্ণনা। একেবারে পুঙ্খানুপুঙ্খ ও স্নায়ুক্ষয়ী বর্ণনা যাকে বলে! এটা বইয়ের সেরা অংশ। ঘাতক, যার নাম রুশদি উল্লেখ করেননি, মাত্র ২৭ সেকেন্ড সুযোগ পেয়েছিলো তাকে কোপানোর। এই ২৭ সেকেন্ডেই রুশদির চেনা জগৎ চিরদিনের জন্য ধ্বংস হয়ে যায়। খুন করতে না পারলেও ঘাতক তাকে মৃত্যুর দ্বারপ্রান্তে নিয়ে গিয়েছিলো। বইয়ের পরের অংশে আছে ডাক্তার, নিজের নতুন স্ত্রী ও দুই সন্তানের সহায়তায় কীভাবে অত্যন্ত ধীরগতিতে নিজের স্বাভাবিক জীবনে ফিরে আসার আপ্রাণ চেষ্টা চালান তিনি। এখানে কিছু পুনরাবৃত্তি ও অতিরিক্ত কথা থাকলেও রুশদি সম্ভবত তার সে সময়ের মানসিক অবস্থা, যাপিত দিনের ক্লান্তি, অসহায়ত্ব, ভার ও দৃঢ়তা বোঝাতে ইচ্ছাকৃতভাবেই এমনটা লিখেছেন। কীভাবে এই হত্যাপ্রচেষ্টা শুধু লেখকেরই নয়, তার স্ত্রী ও সন্তানদেরও আক্রান্ত করেছে, তাদের মানসিক পীড়া দিয়েছে সে বর্ণনাও উল্লেখযোগ্য।
 ঘাতকের সাথে কাল্পনিক কথোপকথনে ব্যক্তিগত বিশ্বাস ও মতপ্রকাশের কারণে কাউকে খুন করার অসারতা প্রমাণ করেছেন লেখক।
তবে রুশদি আরো কিছু সময় পর, ঘটনা থেকে নিরাপদ দূরত্বে দাঁড়িয়ে বইটা লিখলে ভালো করতেন। নিজের ঘটনার সাথে সারাবিশ্বে ঘটে যাওয়া এই ধরনের ঘটনার মধ্যবর্তী সংযোগ স্থাপন ও সর্বজনীনতা প্রদান জরুরি ছিলো।

[Dmitri · Rating 3 out of 5]

“A: When you are burning in hellfire I will be in the perfumed garden. I will have my attendant spirits, my beautiful houris, untouched by man or djinn. It is written: ‘Which of the Lord's blessings would you deny?’
Q: Written where?
A: In the Book.
Q: There's only one book worth talking about. It's written by the Turkish author Orhan Pamuk called ‘The New Life’. This book has no name and we do not know anything about what is written on its pages. But everyone who opens this book has their whole life changed. Do you know a book like that?
A: Of course. It is the book containing the Word of God, as given by the Archangel to the Prophet.
Q: Did the Prophet write it down immediately?
A: He came down from the mountain and recited it, and whoever was nearby wrote it down on whatever came to hand. And he recited it with complete accuracy. What the Archangel said, word for word, they wrote it down with complete accuracy. That is obvious. Every true believer knows this. Only the godless would question it and they don't matter.”

“I'm thinking about some other killers who were motivated by religion: the men in the hijacked airplanes on September 11, 2001, and the men in Mumbai murderously attacking the Taj Palace and the much-loved Leopold Café on November 26, 2008. I do not recall any wife or lover being associated with any of them, any horrified life-partner denouncing and mourning them. Maybe men in love find it harder to carry out such cold-blooded attacks. Maybe such persons' solitude is a necessary precondition for their willingness to do such deeds. And maybe you, dear A., are a member of that group of solitary killers.”

“What value do you put on your own life? I'm wondering. I've been wanting to ask you about Socrates, who said that the unexamined life isn't worth living. It follows that only the examined life is worth living. My question is: Do you examine your life? Do you look inward every day and try to decide what you think, about what you do?”

************
I was looking forward to reading this memoir since it was announced soon after the Salman Rushdie attack. It isn’t as I imagined that it might have been, a non-fictional account of circumstances which led to his 2022 butchering by a random religious fanatic. In the aftermath of Ayatollah Khomeini’s 1989 fatwa over the novel ‘Satanic Verses’ there had been at least six other attempts. This book however reads like a journal of his medical treatment, and a thank you letter to his family and friends who stood by him.

Particularly his wife, sister and son from an earlier marriage are praised by Rushdie, for their love and help during his recovery, as well as health care workers at the NYU Hospital system in Manhattan. As someone with loved ones who have received care there for many years I appreciate his gratitude. I also wonder how many thousands passed through its doors with equally urgent needs, and of the millions who’ve died from religious intolerance around the world. Rushdie’s book doesn’t dwell on those questions.

Rushdie does attempt to deconstruct the motives behind his attacker, who he dignifies only with the letter A, which also signifies ‘the Ass’, a 24 year old tabla rasa, a man without reason or self awareness. There is a still a $3M bounty on Rushdie’s head, but this doesn’t stop him from resuming his life where he left off in New York. Perhaps he has no other choice, and yet I imagine myself beginning a new chapter in a distant region of the world. Rushdie imagines interviewing the man who tried to kill him.

Initially his imaginary meeting with A. devolves into literary allusions to Shakespeare’s Othello and the symbolism of Andre Gide. Rushdie recounts an attempted murder of the writer Naguib Mahfouz in 1994, six years after he won the Nobel Prize. He also spent years under threat of death, and became a knife attack victim by an Islamic fundamentalist. An interrogation ensues, and Rushdie provides a critique of A. who had lived in his mother’s basement watching radical imams on late night YouTube.

His questions are concerned with others right to exist within different belief systems. On Valentine’s Day 2023, the 34th anniversary of the fatwa, Rushdie returned to public life for dinner with his wife Eliza and a security detail in tow. He had published his most recent novel ‘Victory City’ but felt disassociated from the world of fiction. I suppose I should read ‘Joseph Anton’ on his decade in hiding, but I’m more drawn to his fiction. This is worthwhile for those interested; for others it may not be essential.

[John Devlin · Rating 2 out of 5]

(2.7)Some thoughts on this work:

Rushdie survived an attack that took almost thirty years to come to fruition…he’s quite commendable…

“but a knife attack is a kind of intimacy, a knife’s a close-up weapon, and the crimes it commits are intimate encounters. Here I am, you bastard, the knife whispers”

Yes, same reason OJ stabbed his wife so many times…

“The spirit of young Trayvon Martin, whose murder by George Zimmerman, and Zimmerman’s disgraceful subsequent acquittal.”

Nothing disgraceful about a fight where one man found himself under another man with his head being pounded into the ground…and defended his life


“This move away from First Amendment principles allowed that venerable piece of the Constitution to be co-opted by the right.”
Rushdie’s such a leftist that when the left has abandoned free speech he has to claim the Right somehow co-opted this most sacred right…yeah…it’s called defending free speech…


“The First Amendment was now what allowed conservatives to lie, to abuse, to denigrate. It became a kind of freedom for bigotry. The right had a new social agenda too, one that sounded a lot like an old one: authoritarianism,”

Yes, Rushdie, free speech gives folks the right to be wrong for the wrong reasons…or plz tell me if hunters laptop was his? Did Covid come from a lab? What is a woman? Was Trump guilty of collusion?


“A gun’s only way of being in the world was violence; its sole purpose was to cause damage, even to take lives, animal or human.”

No, a gun can deter violence as every woman knows who has an open carry license..

“There were probably exceptions to this principle, but very few of the people who ought to regret their lives—
Donald Trump, Boris Johnson, Adolf Eichmann,”

Comparing Trump to an architect of the Holocaust..how pathetically deranged Rushdie is here…

“Milan wanted to talk about Trump. I didn’t, really. But I did say, “If he is re-elected this country may become impossible to live in.”

See above….

“I can. Because a real meeting is improbable—make that impossible—I have to imagine my way into his head.
I’m not looking for an apology. I do wonder how he feels, now that he has had time to think things over. Has he had second thoughts? Or is he proud of himself? Would he do it again? He has been offered a reward by an organization in Iran. Does he hope to serve a sentence and then travel”

Rushdie spends a whole chapter imagining a conversation with his assailant…a profound mistake of the overly intellectual…thinking that the low IQ cogitate in a similar way to even the average minded….

“Meanwhile, America is sliding back towards the Middle Ages, as white supremacy exerts itself not only over Black bodies, but over women’s bodies too.”

Folks who count themselves liberal or very liberal estimate that 10,000 unarmed blacks or killed by police every year…the real number was 12…

“The weaponizing of Christianity in the United States has resulted in the overturning of Roe v. Wade and the ongoing battle over abortion, and women’s right to choose.”

Nothing to do with Christianity but an understanding of the constitution. There never was a right to privacy in the document and reverting the difficult decision of abortion back to states and their democracies is far more liberal than anointing nine lawyers to foist their beliefs on a nation…


“I talked about how important PEN was “at this moment when books and libraries as well as authors are so widely under siege.”

No books are being banned…parents have every right to curate what their children read…and btw you can download any book in ten seconds off Amazon…it’s the 21st century try living in it

“the New York sky orange and made the air dangerous to breathe. Climate records were broken in Las Vegas..
and in the soaring heat of Death Valley, people began to die. I remembered the 1961 science-fiction film
announced, and there were reports that fish were boiling in the sea.”

Rushdie is an atheist but he believes in Armageddon..he’s lived in NYC for decades. Has the shoreline near his apartment changed in all that time?

“We passed through idyllic small towns and villages, their delightful aspect marred only by a few trump signs”

And the obligatory denouement mention in Trump…

[Erin · Rating 5 out of 5]

5 stars

Incredibly written tale of the 2022 knife attack which nearly took the author’s life, thirty-three and a half years after the fatwa ordered against him by the Ayatollah Khomeini following the publication of THE SATANIC VERSES. Rushdie covers the attack in excruciating detail as well as his recovery process, both physical and mental. Even those unfamiliar with Rushdie will likely be moved by his resilience. Excellent, excellent book. Highly recommended.

[Theo Logos · Rating 4 out of 5]

Art challenges orthodoxy. To reject or vilify art because it does that is to fail to understand its nature. Art sets the artist’s passionate personal vision against the received ideas of its time. Art knows that received ideas are the enemies of art. Clichés are received ideas and so are ideologies, both those that depend on the sanction of invisible sky gods and those which do not.

I remember the horror I felt on that August day when I heard the news of the brutal attack on Salman Rushdie. Not only was he a favorite author, but he was a living symbol of defiance against the tyranny of controlling orthodoxy. And now, decades after religious fanatics put a price on his head, some wild eyed man-child not yet born when the fatwa was issued against the author had viciously attacked him and left him fighting for life.

As days went by and Rushdie did not die, it occurred to me that if he pulled through, he would almost certainly write a book about his experience. The prospect excited me. Rushdie had already proven his talent at memoir with his book Joseph Anton — should he survive to write a memoir of the attack it would be another triumph over humorless orthodoxy. Knife is that book. It’s a bit raw, it falls short of his best work (which, after all, is a damned high bar) but it still counts as a triumph.

There’s a thing I used to say back in the day when catastrophe rained down upon The Satanic Verses and its author, that one way of understanding the argument over that book was that it was a quarrel between those with a sense of humor and those without one. I see you now, my failed murderer. You could try to kill because you didn’t know how to laugh.

Knife is a first person account of the brutal attack that almost killed the author. Rushdie includes his painful and traumatic recovery, and the way the attack shattered and reshaped his life and the lives of his family. It’s a most human accounting. He includes thoughts and experiences that are in no way shaped for a hero’s narrative, but rather paint an accurate picture of how one might expect a 75 year old man suddenly attacked and stabbed 15 times to react — not pretty, but believably human.

[Chris · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ik moest denken aan een pleidooi van Olga Tokarczuk in haar knappe De tedere verteller. Een pleidooi voor schrijvers van nu om weerwoord te bieden aan de vloedgolf van autofictie en autobiografische non-fictie die ons en vooral de verbeelding van de literatuur overspoelt in tijdens van self-exposure op sociale en andere media. Dat het tegenwoordig allemaal echt gebeurd moet zijn, realistisch of op ware feiten gebaseerd om waarde te hebben; alsof die norm de kwaliteit bepaalt.

De romans van Salman Rushdie zijn stuk voor stuk odes aan die verbeelding waar Tokarzcuk voor pleit. Het is aan zijn métier als romancier te danken dat het voor ons zo'n wonderlijke, rijke leeservaringen zijn. De taal en de in de vorm van zijn thema's gegoten schrijfstijl zijn de wapens waarmee hij werkt en strijd voert. Tedere, maar vlijmscherpe wapens. Met 'Mes' bewijst hij dat groot schrijverschap geen verschil kent tussen fictie en autobiografische non-fictie. De juiste woorden voor het juiste onderwerp zorgen ervoor dat 'Mes' even diep raakt als gelijk welke van zijn magisch-realistische romans.

'Gedachten na een poging tot moord' luidt de ondertitel. Verwacht je echter niet aan een opsomming van losse elementen. 'Mes' is een coherent, perfect opgebouwd meesterwerkje dat haarfijn de grens opzoekt tussen de heftigheid van het geweld en de aanslag die op de schrijver gepleegd werd en de kracht van liefde, vriendschappen en overtuigingen die hem hielpen om de fysieke en mentale slag te boven te komen. Salman Rushdie sleept je als lezer meedogenloos teder mee in zijn wijze, fijngevoelige, nietsontziende en heldere relaas. Van de feiten zowel als de nasleep. Het is adembenemend sterke én diepmenselijke literatuur.

Dus om de cirkel rond te maken: Olga Tokarczuks pleidooi blijft gelden met deze Salman Rushdie als pleitbezorger, omdat hij enerzijds in zijn romans de verbeelding verdedigt en anderzijds in dit boek autobiografische non-fictie schrijft die ertoe doet. Want 'Mes' moet je gewoonweg lezen om te leren waartoe een mens in staat is, zowel het lelijkste als het mooiste. Bovendien gaat het ook over wat literatuur en de kracht van taal vermag, niet alleen tegen weerloosmakend geweld. En is dat niet toevallig precies wat goede literatuur ook doet? Jawel. Zeker als het geschreven is door een ambachtsman als Rushdie.

[Kerry · Rating 5 out of 5]

"...thanks to a combination of luck, the skill of surgeons and loving care...I'd been given a second shot at life. So the question was: What do you do with it? How do you use it? What should I do the same way, what might I do differently?"

I am still processing this short memoir by Rushdie that goes into the events and aftermath of his recent stabbing. I am not a big Rushdie fan and have only read Midnight's Children and found that tough going but an excellent read. I was drawn to this book after hearing the author interviewed by Terri Gross of NPR's Fresh Air. I am a medical person and was interested in hearing more about Rushdie's recovery from this traumatic attack. Yes there are medical/physical injuries that are discussed but this memoir looks primarily at the mental recovery and how Rushdie worked to recover his life.

I would hesitate to call this an older person's book but I feel this is a book that I would encourage anyone trying to recover from a tragic event and particularly would encourage anyone over 65 to read, as Rushdie recounts what he finds important and necessary as one grows older and the challenges age can present for all.

It was a fantastic read. Short, easy, heartfelt. I will be thinking about it for a long time. In line for the audio as Rushdie reads it himself and I feel this would add a lot. The title makes this sound like it might be angry or sad or perhaps bitter, but it is the most hopeful, inspirational book I have read in many a year. It may even inspire me to get back to more Rushdie. 5 stars

[Allen Roberts · Rating 5 out of 5]

Being a big fan of Sir Salman, I was upset (and angered) by his near-assassination in 2022. I have been looking forward to reading this memoir of his near-death experience and recovery. And I was not disappointed with its message.

Rushdie recounts the assassination attempt and his recovery with unflinching honesty, revealing his strength and determination as well as his all-too relatable human foibles. He’s far less spiteful toward his attacker than I would be if I were in the same situation. His thoughts on the attacker actually vacillate between anger, pity, curiosity and even indifference.

The best parts of this book for me are when Rushdie staunchly defends art and free speech, and discusses his view on religion. He also writes beautifully about his gratitude for making it through his ordeal, for those he loves and who love him, and for those who saved his life and nursed him back to health.

Salman Rushdie is a brilliant writer, but also a loving, thoughtful, brave, principled, and humane man. He stands as a knight for free thought and free expression against the powers of fanaticism and murderous intolerance. I dearly love and own several of his books, and will absolutely be purchasing and reading all of the ones that I don’t already have. 5 stars.

[Pavel Nedelcu · Rating 5 out of 5]

LA LIBERTÀ DI ESPRESSIONE

Un’opera di riflessione profonda e molto personale che racconta il difficile percorso di ripresa dell’autore dopo l’attentato subito nell’agosto 2022.

Rushdie affronta il dolore fisico e psicologico con una straordinaria capacità descrittiva, immergendo il lettore nei dettagli crudi delle operazioni chirurgiche e delle sue ferite irreparabili, come la devastante perdita di un occhio cucito per sempre. La parte che riguarda il recupero in ospedale è narrata con una precisione dolorosa, e trasmette fisicamente il trauma subito ad ogni intervento.

Uno degli aspetti più potenti del libro è il messaggio di resistenza e di libertà artistica, per il quale Rushdie ha sempre rischiato la vita negli ultimi 30 anni. L’autore ribadisce con forza l’importanza della libertà di espressione, nonostante le varie minacce e i tentativi di metterlo a tacere.

Attraverso una narrazione senza filtri, KNIFE offre un commovente ritratto della determinazione di un uomo che, anche di fronte alla violenza, continua a difendere l’arte e la libertà personale.

[Arupratan · Rating 2 out of 5]

২৪ বছর বয়সী যে ছেলেটি সালমান রুশদিকে ছুরির আঘাতে মেরে ফেলতে চেয়েছিল, সে নিশ্চয়ই রুশদিকে প্রচণ্ড ঘৃণা করতো। কীভাবে গড়ে উঠেছিল এই ঘৃণা? 'সেটানিক ভার্সেস' বইটির মাত্র ২টো পৃষ্ঠা পড়েছিল সে (হ্যাঁ দুটো, দুই, two— অধ্যায় নয়, পৃষ্ঠা)। এবং কিছু রুশদি-বিরোধী ইউটিউব ভিডিও দেখেছিল। ব্যাস, এই ছিল তার সম্বল।

এই জাতীয় দুর্বোধ্য ঘৃণা আজকের দুনিয়ায় খুবই সুলভ ঘটনা। যৎসামান্য তথ্যকে সম্বল করে এরকম অর্থহীন ঘৃণা কীভাবে গ্রাস করে একজন মানুষকে? আমি ভেবেছিলাম মূলত এই প্রশ্নটির উত্তর খোঁজার জন্য বইটি লেখা হয়েছে (বইটির সম্পূর্ণ শিরোনাম পড়েও তেমন ধারণা হয়েছিল)। কিন্তু রুশদি এই বিষয়ে নতুন কোনো চিন্তার দিগন্ত সংযোজন করতে পারেননি। উল্টে আমাকে চূড়ান্ত বিরক্তিকর কিছু সময় উপহার দিয়েছেন।

বইটির দুই-তৃতীয়াংশ জুড়ে রয়েছে ছুরিকাঘাতে মারাত্মক আহত হওয়ার পরে লেখকের বেঁচে ওঠার বৃত্তান্ত। অধ্যায়ের পর অধ্যায়, পৃষ্ঠার পর পৃষ্ঠা তিনি অতি গভীর মনোযোগ এবং উৎসাহের সঙ্গে লিখে রেখেছেন সেই জীবনদায়ী চিকিৎসাকাণ্ডের খুঁটিনাটি বিবরণ। সেই অসম্ভব বোরিং এবং অনিঃশেষ বর্ণনা পড়তে পড়তে, খুব অনুতাপের সঙ্গে স্বীকার করছি, মাঝে একবার আমার মনে হয়েছিল : এই বুড়ো মরলো না ক্যানো!

তবু সবকিছুই বৃথা যায়নি। ভীষণ গুরুত্বপূর্ণ কিছু ভাবনা রয়েছে বইটিতে। এমনিতে রুশদির ননফিকশন গদ্য তো খুবই উপভোগ্য। জীবনে এত বিপর্যয় সত্ত্বেও তাঁর স্বকীয় সরসতা এখনও বজায় আছে। স্ট্রেস তাঁর সেন্স অব হিউমরকে পুরোপুরি গিলে খেতে পারেনি। জীবন, সমাজ, ঈশ্বর, ধর্ম, শিল্প, প্রেম, ব্যক্তিস্বাধীনতা, মৃত্যু, হিংসা, ক্ষমা, নিয়তি, আনন্দ— এইসব বিষয়ে তাঁর মতামত খুবই স্পষ্ট এবং বুদ্ধিদীপ্ত।

মুশকিলটা হল, সম্ভবত মৃত্যুমুখ থেকে ফিরে আসার পরে স্বাভাবিক মানসিক স্থৈর্যের অভাবে, বইটি তিনি গুছিয়ে লিখে উঠতে পারেননি। (অন্তত আরো বছর-তিনেক পরে বইটি লেখা উচিত ছিল কি? ফতোয়া-পরবর্তী তাঁর নির্বাসিত গোপন জীবনের ব্যাপারে স্মৃতিচারণমূলক বইটি— "জোসেফ আন্তন"— তিনি লিখেছিলেন ঘটনার প্রায় ২২ বছর পরে)। তবু যাই হোক, খাপছাড়াভাবে হলেও, কিছু জরুরি কথা তিনি লিখেছেন, নিচে তেমন একটি উদ্ধৃতি উল্লেখ করে লেখাটি শেষ করলাম। আমার মনে হয়েছে, দৈর্ঘ্যে একটু বড়ো হলেও উদ্ধৃতিটি পুরোটা তুলে দেওয়া উচিত।

"The most important thing is that art challenges orthodoxy.

"To reject or vilify art because it does that is to fail to understand its nature. Art sets the artist’s passionate personal vision against the received ideas of its time. Art knows that received ideas are the enemies of art. Clichés are received ideas and so are ideologies, both those which depend on the sanction of invisible sky gods and those which do not. Without art, our ability to think, to see freshly, and to renew our world would wither and die.

"Art is not a luxury. It stands at the essence of our humanity, and it asks for no special protection except the right to exist.

"It accepts argument, criticism, even rejection. It does not accept violence.

"And in the end, it outlasts those who oppress it. The poet Ovid was exiled by Augustus Caesar, but the poetry of Ovid has outlasted the Roman Empire. The poet Mandelstam’s life was ruined by Joseph Stalin, but his poetry has outlasted the Soviet Union. The poet Lorca was murdered by the thugs of General Franco, but his art has outlasted the fascism of the Falange."

[Nick LeBlanc · Rating 2 out of 5]

1.5 stars rounded up.

Anytime I have attempted to read a Rushdie novel I have failed. Satanic Verses, the shorter Fury, and the Booker Prize winning Midnight’s Children—which was especially a surprise to me as I have loved every Booker Prize winning novel I’ve ever read. In each novel there was a quality present in the prose that turned me off, something difficult to describe but probably best understood as arrogance. This is the first book of his that I have finished. It is also the first nonfiction of his that I have read. But, I do confess to some speed reading/skimming unfortunately, this is because I again detected that arrogance in the writing and couldn't bear to sit through it.

Of course, what happened to Rushdie is horrible and an attack on free speech, artistic expression, and literature led by the most base and thoughtless form of fundamentalism...but that doesn't make it a good book. It was interesting to hear some of the reflections on the incident from a victim, who clearly has a very active mind. But, I just didn’t like the way that his prose came off. At times, it was didactic and pedantic and often I felt as if Rushdie writing for an audience that he assumed was much less intelligent and much less informed than him. Almost like a snooty Professor telling you a bunch of things you already know and acting like they were the gatekeeper for some great unattainable knowledge.

The long and short of it is this: wow, what a horrible act of intellectual terrorism, and I commend his survival and ability to address it openly in writing. But, I think I’m simply just not a fan. So, take that for what it is.

[George Stenger · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars rounded up.

A review of the account and aftereffects of the murder attempt on Salman Rushdie. It is filled with the small details of all his recovery efforts. At times, the number of details was overwhelming and did not add to the story for me.

His reflections on his possible potential prostate scare were over the top. As someone is going through it now, it rang of self-absorption.

Overall, an interesting book but could have been shorter. I completely agree with his ideas on religious freedom.