#quichotte

[freshvenomvigil]

Quichotte noted his son’s untamed, rebellious, outlawlike character. It pleased him. Heroes, superheroes, and antiheroes, too, were not made of complaisant stock. They were out-of-step, against-the-grain, different-drummer types. He thought of Sherlock Holmes, of Green Arrow, of Negan.

—Quichotte, Salman Rushdie

[the-flying-tora]

Watch "Tangerine Dream - Pergamon" on YouTube

Anniversary.

[cosmonautroger]

Tangerine Dream - Quichotte (1981)

[dzelonis]

Mēneša grāmata #91 - Augusts 2022

Mēneša grāmata #91 – Augusts 2022

Salman Rushdie – Quichotte Manu viedokli un iespaidus varat izlasīt šeit

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[dzelonis]

Salman Rushdie - Quichotte

Salman Rushdie – Quichotte

Links uz grāmatas Goodreads lapu Manas pārdomas Kihots, bet ne ar previsi Dons, jo ir vienkārš farmācijas firmas ceļojošais pārdevējs, pavisam nesen sava mūža pārliecinoši otrajā pusē ar televīzijas sarunu šova palīdzību atklājis savu mūža mīlestību un par šīs ‘’balvas’’ uzvarētāju kļuvusi šī šova vadītājā Salma R. Savos izteiksmes līdzekļos Kihots ir pat ļoti intelektuāls, spēj citēt un…

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[albad]

FEDOR CHALIAPINE EN DON QUICHOTTE

[zelihatrifles]

Quichotte

Quichotte reads like a drug. Rushdie's newest novel is almost a literal hallucinogen, and it's like reading a myth of my own times. I feel what Oedipus must have felt if he'd heard The Odyssey being sung. A myth of "we, the broken people!" in the modern Age of Anything-Can-Happen, where "life had become a series of vanishing photographs, posted everyday, gone the next".

The diasporic consciousness manifests itself in the absurdity of the racial abuse encountered by Quichotte and Sancho, when all poor Quichotte did was to indulge in his harmless eccentricities but the whites were so very incensed just by their sight that they heard their very words as codes for violence. Rushdie the master Author blends the political into the surreal with such linguistic maîtrise that you should be unable to discern it from the fictional but its clarity stands very harshly before your eyes. This again proves how contemporary a story it is and how Rushdie with his acerbic pen points fingers easily and directly.

There is intertextuality at its height - the episodic narrative is replete with classical references, from movies, history, books, myths. Even as an informed literature student, I find it hard to keep up with the sheer density and pace of the allusions. It is an absolute treat to read and to understand but also somewhat elitist for that very reason. It is like the twin New Yorks that Quichotte describes - one vibrant, welcoming, the other with its "high forbidding walls made of wealth and power".

This wonderful kaleidoscope of metafiction interlaces fact and fiction in unprecedented ways, and fiction meets life in the most literal of senses, and the audience is left "deafened by the echo between the fiction which he had made and the fiction in which he had been made to live." And I am left in a whirlwind of wonder and an urgent need to read the picaresque adventures of the knight errant Don Quixote.

[badbookopinions]

Quichotte - Salman Rushdie

A: a fantastic book with a messy, confusing ending.

Quichotte splits its story two ways - between the delusional pharma rep Ismail Smile and his imaginary son, on a quest for a movie star he’s never met to love him, and his author Sam DuChamp as he reconnects with his estranged sister. It’s about Trump’s America and family and stories and the end of worlds. And perscription opioids.

I loved this book - like, chills as I read, told my mom about it - until the last fifty pages or so. It’s a very ~literary fiction~ ending, in that it’s unhappy and a little strange. I love a good tragedy, but this isn’t a tragedy, just an ending where the characters are disappointed and the end it doesn’t sit quite right.

Still, before that it was stunning. Quichotte and Sam’s stories are fantastic. They mirror each other, both unreliable narrators slipping into delusions paranoid and fantastical. Elements will appear in Quichotte’s story we will later find out were taken from Sam’s own life, setting up this stunning mirror image.

Also, as a Desi person I really appreciated this all-Desi cast, seeing how they reacted to being brown in Trump’s America. There’s this one scene about halfway through that’s everything I’ve ever been afraid would happen to me or my family distilled into three harrowing pages. Both incredibly disturbing and validating to read.

I also loved the way most of this story isn’t about romance - it’s about fathers and sons, and brothers and sisters, and the mistakes our parents make. The relationships are not at all the sort of things books tend to focus on, and I enjoyed it a lot.

Plot: loved the buildup, but I thought Quichotte’s story fell apart at around the 75% mark, and Sam’s story was neglected towards the end in favour of Quichotte’s confusing miserable ending.

Characters: I have such affection for Sancho (a little bastard of a fifteen-year-old. Also, imaginary and angry about it). Quichotte is a great main character - he’s clearly not well, but he’s so charismatic that sometimes you almost find yourself rooting for him. At the two-thirds mark when the end of the quest is within sight you remember that ‘hold on, this man isn’t just going on an adventure with his son, he’s a stalker’ and then you get very afraid he’s going to betray the confidence you’ve built in him - the suspense is wonderful.

Setting: a claustrophobic clusterfuck rendition of Trump’s America, full of fear and mistrust and media saturation. We’re so busy feeling that end-of-the-world feeling that we feel everyday, it surprises us when the world actually starts ending.

Prose: God, I’m jealous of Rushdie’s prose. Thanks to Quichotte’s speaking style, he leans into the maximalism and allusions here, and it’s so much fun to read. Like, look at this:

     “It was the Age of Anything-Can-Happen, he reminded himself. He had heard many people say that on TV and on the outré video clips floating in cyberspace, which added a further, new-technology depth to his addiction. There were no rules any more. And in the Age of Anything-Can-Happen, well, anything could happen. Old friends could become new enemies and traditional enemies could be your new besties or even lovers. It was no longer possible to predict the weather, or the likelihood of war, or the outcome of elections. A woman might fall in love with a piglet, or a man start living with an owl. A beauty might fall asleep and, when kissed, wake up speaking a different language and in that new language reveal a completely altered character. A flood might drown your city. A tornado might carry your house to a faraway land where, upon landing, it would squash a witch. Criminals could become kings and kings be unmasked as criminals. A man might discover that the woman he lived with was his father’s illegitimate child. A whole nation might jump off a cliff like swarming lemmings. Men who played presidents on TV could become presidents. The water might run out. A woman might bear a baby who was found to be a revenant god. Words could lose their meanings and acquire new ones. The world might end, as at least one prominent scientist- entrepreneur had begun repeatedly to predict. An evil scent would hang over the ending. And a TV star might miraculously return the love of a foolish old coot, giving him an unlikely romantic triumph which would redeem a long, small life, bestowing upon it, at the last, the radiance of majesty.”   

Diversity report: an all-Indian cast.