It's the breadth of imagination which hooks us in, the depth of thought and compassion that enthrals. Salman Rushdie may just be the greatest living novelist in English. Rushdie, however, lives in America, as do both of the heroes in Quichotte. I say both because Quichotte (pronounced key-shott) is a double picaresque, blending the journeys of the ageing seller of opioids in his quest for the affections of former Bollywood star, now US talk-show host, Miss Salma R, and his creator, the pseudonymous author 'Sam DuChamp' who is trying to put his family back together before he dies. Both protagonists were born in India and live in America. 'Sam' has a sister who is a British peer, Quichotte has a half-sister who lives in America; both have survived breast cancer. Sam has an estranged son who has become embroiled with US Security Agencies. Quichotte conjures up an imaginary son, whom he names (of course) Sancho.
Before we know it, Sancho (like Pinocchio), has become a real boy. So real that other people can see and speak with him. Because Quichotte's picaresque also includes Magic Realism. One of the towns they pass through is being terrorists by mastodons - technically humans turned into rampaging mastodons, some of whom still walk upright and wear green suits. It is all brilliantly done, all enthused with empathy and a profound humanity.
Quichotte may not be as celebrated as Midnight's Children nor as controversial as Satanic Verses. It is nonetheless a mini masterpiece, a triumphant autumnal work brimming with life even as its protagonists consciously face death.
No comments:
Post a Comment