Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Have you ever noticed how Salman Rushdie appears to be smirking in his photos? Sorry you have to click on the linky, but I can't bring myself to post a picture of his face on my blog.
The other day I decided to read some reviews of The Enchantress of Florence, just to see what others had to say. Because I still wasn't convinced he was all that and a bag of chips. So there I was, clicking around the internet, and I kept running into Mr Rushdie with that same damn smirk on his face. To be fair, it could be his version of a smile, but my mind is convinced it's a smirk. As in, I'm a great writer and you're not, nee-neer, nee-neer, smirk.
By the way, as I was gallivanting around the internet, I found this comment by David Gates, in the NY Times Sunday Book Review...
“The Enchantress of Florence” is so pious — especially in its impiety — so pleased with itself and so besotted with the sound of its own voice that even the tritest fancies get a free pass.
Also by the way, I think that's the first time I've ever read a Sunday Book Review review.
So...now that I have that smirky face in my head, and I have the have the weight of the New York Times Sunday Book Review behind me (besotted with the sound of its own voice...hee, hee, hee), I'm feeling even more anti-Enchantress. Totally illogical, I know, but that's me.
Sunday night I decided to give it one final chance. I read a page and realized I had no memory of what I had just read. And I didn't care what was happening to the characters, and although I was on page 139, I had only a glimmer of the story. So I closed the book. For good.
Oh. Wait. One more thing. How do you feel about the chapter titles being the first five (or six or seven or eight, because remember, Rushdie writes damn long sentences) words of the first sentence? Because I don't like it. Especially when the chapter title is it's own page. Then you turn the page and those same five (or six or seven or eight) words are staring you in the face again. And you didn't like them the first time.
I don't know whether to be impressed or disgusted with myself for sticking it out for 139 pages.