Tuesday, April 12, 2011

The Perforated Sheet

What I liked most about this opening chapter was the pace. What a great way to start a novel: present Dr. Aadam Aziz with a small mystery, the landowner's daughter's illness, and a vessel (a literal vessel!) to dictate the pace of him reaching that mystery. As Tai approaches, events move slowly and largely in remembrance as we are given historical descriptions of Aziz the ageless, talkative Tai, and their history together, intertwined with the lake.  But once Aadam is on Tai's boat, Rushdie's vacillations between anecdotes mirror the unsteadiness of Tai's rowing: the anger misdirected at the doctor's bag, the landowner delivering a not so subtle threat, Aziz trying to make small talk. I read and felt like I ws about to tip over!


And then it slows down again once the ferry reaches land. And we think we are on firm ground to approach the mystery - but wait! Even though Rushdie has spent the chapter leading us to the mystery's solution, he holds it out of our sight, and we are left to diagnose through a hole in a sheet. Brilliant! It makes me wonder if the title suggests how we are to read this book. I initially read it thought of a piece of paper with many holes. A book with incomplete images and us left to fill in the missing pieces.


But by the end of the chapter I realized there will be just one hole, and that the hole is not in the story, but in our ability to view it. I suspect we are going to read the rest of this book by viewing the overall story one element at a time, and that Rushdie is going to leave it up to us to sum up the individual parts into a whole narrative. I expect that just as Dr. Aziz is granted a first view of the poor girl's stomach, we will begin with the gut of the story. By the end of this book, we should have an idea what Rushdie beleives is India's stomach-ache.


Grant, if this is about India's polemic past, which I also know little about, then I predict the history of the characters are going to be central to telling of this story. I read this chapter and thought of Rushdie as a historian, although he speaks nothing of the nation's past. I can already tell he is a character writer. And Grant, you know I am always a sucker for colorful characters (and alliteration, too, which he uses sparingly, but wisely): Aadam with his curvaceous nose, Tai the boatman, Aadam's lizardly, spiteful mother with Tai's voice, female bodyguards with bodybuilding muscles, the blind art-loving landowner.

2 comments:

  1. Gary, "Rushdie's vacillations between anecdotes mirror the unsteadiness of Tai's rowing"? And you're worried about hanging with me. That's a split-finger if I've ever seen one--nice insight! I knew that this blog would be a good idea because I've always admired your ability to read and interpret fiction. After all, it was you who turned me on to The Sun Also Rises.

    Enough spit-swapping, let's get back to your post. I certainly agree with you about the pace but didn't notice how it slows down. Since I'm reading ahead, your point made me notice that he speeds up his pace when he wants to create suspense through foreshadowing. He'll mention several things in a row that he will successively elaborate on later in the chapter or book.

    Your point about pace is related nicely to your point about the sheet being an analogy for the novel itself. His quick pace and foreshadowing alludes to a larger whole, but his actual narration gives us only one part at a time. Kind of like a strip tease.

    As for the characters, this is where you and I are in total agreement, and it makes me glad that we chose this book. I think my next post will be about some of the characters in Chapter 2.

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  2. Yes - pace and suspense go hand-in-hand. That's a cool literary technique. And I am always a sucker for a good strip-tease. Looking forward to the characters in Ch 2

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