As an accompaniment to this presentation,
please read the Introduction to Salman Rushdie in the Norton Anthology.
Salman Rushdie was born in 1947 in
Bombay, India, later moved with his family to Pakistan, and eventually settled
in England. His multicultural background
gave him a unique understanding of the immigrant identity and the sense of
cultural displacement many colonial British subjects experienced in the period
following the dismantling of the empire—especially the diaspora, those
of Indian descent who migrated to Britain or other countries. Rushdie’s migratory
experience engendered in him a fascination with multiplicity, cultural
diversity, and hybrid identities that would later dominate his fiction.
In
1967 he received an M.A. with honors from King’s College, Cambridge, and moved
to London, where he worked in acting and advertising.
In 1981, Rushdie achieved critical
success as an author with his second novel, Midnight’s Children, which
won the Booker McConnell Prize, Britain’s most prestigious award for fiction
writing. In focusing on the fates of
those born when the Indian subcontinent was divided, creating the nation of
Pakistan, Rushdie’s novel became an allegory for the birth of independent
India. The division of the subcontinent
(which occurred just after Rushdie’s birth), and the divided nature of
Pakistani culture as it struggled to create a separate identity in a post
imperial environment, also contributed to Rushdie’s sense of the tremendous
diversity of the postcolonial world.
Describing Pakistan as a “fragmented, frightening palimpsest,
increasingly at war with itself,” Rushdie claimed that the history of Pakistan
is a “duel between two layers of time, the obscured world forcing its way back
through what-had-been-imposed.” This conception
of the postcolonial world as a battle between the repressed traditions of a
precolonial past and the imposed traditions of colonial culture appears
throughout his fiction, including the story “The Prophet’s Hair.” But in addition to depicting the chaos and
fragmentation that can result from such culture clash, Rusdie’s work also
celebrates the vitality and creativity of a process that can give rise to new,
more vibrant cultures.
His work, however, also maintains an awareness of
the violence and destruction that can come of adhering too rigidly to past
traditions, a danger that became very apparent in his own life with the
publication in 1988 of his most controversial novel, The Satanic Verses. The novel is a fantasy/satire featuring two
expatriated Indians in Britain, trying to come to terms with their Islamic
past in a postmodern, postcolonial society.
A section of the novel describing the birth of a religion similar to
Islam was deemed blasphemous by Muslim fundamentalists intent upon protecting
their religious traditions from the encroachment of other cultures
(particularly Western cultures); and in 1989 the Ayatollah Khomeini of Iran declared the book an offense to
Islam and issued a
fatwa (religious proclamation)
ordering Rushdie’s assassination, declaring that "Anyone
who dies in the cause of ridding the world of Rushdie, will be a martyr and will go
directly to heaven.” The fatwa
stated:
“The
author of The
Satanic Verses,
a text written, edited, and published against Islam, against the Prophet of Islam, and against the Koran,
along with all the editors
and publishers aware of its contents, are condemned to capital punishment. I call on all
valiant Muslims wherever they may be in the world to execute this sentence without
delay, so that no one henceforth will dare insult the sacred beliefs of the
Muslims.” As a result of the fatwa, two people involved in the novel’s
publication were attacked by Muslim extremists (one, a Japanese translator, was
killed), and Rushdie was forced to go into hiding under the protection of the
British government. The Satanic Verses was banned in most Islamic
countries, including India, Pakistan, South Africa, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia.
Although
Rushdie published an apology and a statement of his belief in Islam in 1990, the fatwa was not lifted, and he
remained in hiding for 9 years, until the government of Iran backed away from the fatwa in 1998 as part of an attempt to re-establish
diplomatic relations with Britain for commercial purposes. The death threat, however, was never
formally rescinded, and many religious
groups still consider it in effect, including Khordad-15, a Muslim organization that has placed a
$2.5 million bounty on Rushdie.
The incident reinforced in
reality the themes that had been central to Rushdie’s fantastic fiction—the power of
native cultural traditions threatened by change, and the danger of denying past
traditions too completely or, on the other hand, adhering to them too rigidly
and blindly resisting change. The fatwa became the subject of international
debate, and as The
Norton Anthology
notes, Rushdie
himself “became symbolic of the vulnerability of the intellectual in the face of fundamentalism” (p.
2842).
Rushdie became a symbol of artistic
freedom to artists worldwide, as exemplified in the above sculpture, “Salman
Barbeque,” by artist William Ross, which depicts the following:
“A stern
Ayatollah Khomeni roasts a bound
Salman Rushdie over a burning copy
of Rushdie's
proscribed book,
The Satanic Verses.
The alternating pen and sword on the propeller blades signify the eternal
struggle between freedom of expression and repressive intolerance, while the
chilling text of the Ayatollah's
fatwa, or death sentence, is printed
on the whirligig's tail. ‘Salman Barbeque’ was exhibited at the Center on
Contemporary Art (Seattle, WA), where the respected art critic Mathew Kangas
selected it as his "best-of-show choice", and at the Bellevue Art
Museum (Bellevue, WA) in 1996”
(<http://www.seanet.com/~billr/bbq.htm>
Accessed July 22, 2001).
Rushdie’s work has been described as
belonging to both postcolonial and postmodern categories of fiction. Therefore in approaching Rushdie’s story, “The
Prophet’s Hair,” you should review the central concepts of Postmodernism
described in the PowerPoint presentation on the Twentieth Century.
His
sense of the fragmented nature of cultural experience in the postcolonial world
has caused Rushdie to turn to postmodern forms and techniques for expression,
including parody, satire, and the postmodern notion of the world as a
simulacrum, a simulation or combination of multiple realities. The multiculturalism arising from
postcolonial heritage creates that postmodern sense of no fixed truths, no set
realities, so the human experience becomes a
wild conglomeration of cultural signs from many societies and
historical eras. Rushdie responds to
this dilemma of confusion in the postmodern way—with humor—parody and satire
that flourish on incongruence. Thus, he
cheerfully embraces the confusion and multiplicity of the
postmodern/postcolonial environment as rejuvenating forces and “celebrates
hybridity, impurity, intermingling, the transformation that comes of new and
unexpected combinations of human beings, cultures, ideas, politics, movies,
songs” (Rushdie qtd. in The Norton Anthology, p. 2842).
In
defending his novel The Satanic Verses (please read his defense on p. 2842—it
encapsulates his artistic theory), Rushdie claims that Muslim fundamentalists
who objected to the novel believe that “intermingling with a different culture
will inevitably weaken and ruin their own.”
But Rushdie points out that his novel “rejoices in mongrelization and
fears the absolutism of the Pure” as leading to cultural stagnation and
sterility. On the contrary, “Melange,
hotchpotch, a bit of this and a bit of that is how newness enters the world.” Creating this “newness” by cultural change
and a mixing of cultures is, according to Rushdie, “the great possibility that
mass migration gives the world, and I have tried to embrace it” (p.
2842). Thus, the migratory nature of the
postcolonial experience is not necessarily culturally debilitating, but can be
creative and renewing, leading to the development of new worlds. In his novel Shame, Rushdie attests,
“Roots, I sometimes think, are a conservative myth, designed to keep us in our
places” (NewYork: Aventura/Vintage, 1984, p. 90). If we cling blindly to our cultural roots
and resist change, we resist the potential for enrichment, Rushdie
argues.
However, Rushdie’s fiction also deals with the negative
consequences of denying our cultural roots.
While celebrating the limitless possibilities afforded by cultural
change, he warns against the effects of letting one’s cultural traditions be
entirely eclipsed by new cultures.
Coming from a divided nation and an immigrant existence, Rushdie
asserts: “What is the
best thing about
migrant peoples and seceded nations? I think it is their hopefulness. . . . And what's
the worst thing? It is the emptiness of one's luggage. I'm speaking of invisible suitcases, not the
physical, perhaps cardboard,
variety containing a few meaning-drained mementoes: we have come unstuck from more than
land. We have floated upwards from history from memory, from Time." Totally denying one’s cultural history in
the face of postmodern “newness” leads to historical dislocation. And the loss or repression of a cultural
history can be profoundly damaging, as we see in the fable of “The Prophet’s
Hair.” Repressing one’s native
traditions in an attempt to replace them entirely with a new culture can
result in the past returning with a vengeance, as Rushdie’s short story
suggests.
Rushdie’s fiction implies that the most rewarding cultural
experience comes instead from accepting our cultural past and integrating it
with the new worlds we encounter.
Thus, for Rushdie, the heritage of
colonialism, the clash of cultures which demands the integration of old and
new, can give rise to dangerous cultural conflicts, but can also create a
world of infinite possibilities.
Rushdie depicts the infinite
possibilities of the diverse postcolonial world through the use of fantasy, or
“magic realism,” a literary form that combines realism and fantasy. For instance, his novel The Satanic
Verses opens with the two Indian heroes facing the tragedy of a plane
crash as they migrate from India to Britain; however, when both miraculously
survive the crash without a scratch after falling thousands of feet from the
exploding plane, they’re revealed to be earthly incarnations of an Islamic
angel and demon, playing out an ancient mythological/religious conflict in a
new environment. The notion that a
meeting of old and new worlds can give rise to miracles runs throughout Rushdie’s
fiction. He uses the fantastic to
suggest the wildly unlikely cultural combinations found in culturally diverse
postcolonial societies and the magical potentialities that these unusual
combinations create.
Rushdie’s use
of the fantastic to express his experience of Indian culture also derives from
his lifelong love of Indian cinema (popularly known as “Bollywood”, since the
Indian film industry originated in Bombay), cinema that reflects the
fragmented, diverse nature of the postmodern/postcolonial society with its
fantastic mixture of filmic genres. An
Indian film typically combines features of the musical, action/adventure,
melodrama, comedy, and romance, a conglomeration that Rushdie and Indian
audiences find “magical”—an escape from a stagnant reality into a realm of
possibility and hope. In his essay, “A
Short Text About Magic,” Rushdie describes the fantastic formula common to
Indian cinema (which also matches Rushdie’s fiction): “Sex goddesses in wet
saris (the Indian equivalent of wet T-shirts), gods descending from the
heavens to meddle in human affairs, supermen, magic potions, superheroes,
demonic villains . . . Have always been the staple diet of the Indian
filmgoer” (p. 11). And as in Rushdie’s
novels, the fantastic world of the cinema has become reality for a dispersed
and diverse Indian population because, as critic Jennifer Takhar notes, Bombay
cinema “provides a means of psychological investment for the South Asian
diaspora all over the world”; its fantastic conglomeration of disparate
cinematic elements reflects the “cultural disorientation . . .experienced by
the displaced Indians who try to adapt to their newfound environments”
(“Bollywood Cinema in Rushdie’s Fiction,” <http://landow.stg.brown.edu/post/pakistan/literature/rushdie/takhar16.html>
Accessed July 20, 2001). Takhar
remarks, “The Indian diaspora . . . Have come to heavily depend on Bollywood’s
incredible films in shaping their own reality in their new homelands”
(“Identity Through Bollywood Cinema: The ‘Reel’ or ‘Real’ Zone?” <http://landow.stg.brown.edu/post/pakistan/literature/rushdie/takhar15.html>
Accessed July, 20, 2001). Thus, both in
Indian immigrant culture and in Rushdie’s fiction, fantasy becomes reality, a
natural consequence of the diverse postmodern condition that is pregnant with
remarkable possibilities.
Finally, in drawing upon the techniques of the
cinema in his fiction, Rushdie is distinctly postmodern, using the simulated
reality of mass media to express the cultural reality of a fantastic and
fragmented world.