I had a colleague who vowed to read every single book that ever won a Pulitzer Prize. Such ambition.
I asked her to recommend the one that she loved most so far, and that’s how I ended up with this on my nightstand.
I’ve never read anything by Salmon Rushdie, but I’ve heard great things. A couple lines in, and it’s easy to see why. The man paints such beautiful images with fresh analogies that I haven’t seen anywhere else. I never realized how many cliche descriptions are out there until I read something completely devoid of them.
I’m only about a third of the way through, and I don’t even particularly love the topic (India’s transition to independence from British colonialism), but I’m happily devouring Midnight’s Children just for the beautiful way Rushdie writes. If ever there was an example of how words could be someone’s craft, this is it. It’s pure workmanship at its finest.