A movie version of Salman Rushdie's seminal novel, Midnight's Children, is coming to the big screen; it will be directed by Deepa Mehta and produced by her husband, David Hamilton.
Midnight's Children, you might recall, is the "Best of the Bookers."
If you haven't read Midnight's Children, and even if you, oh, say, hated The Satanic Verses, for instance, READ IT.
Rushdie and I have a love/hate relationship. I tried The Satanic Verses, hated it, and gave up; I found his tone pretentious and his attempts at magic realism amateur and childish compared to my steady teenage diet of Allende and Garcia Marquez. Then, in university, I read his non-fiction (specifically, essays photocopied from Imaginary homelands, which I was later thrilled to discover my husband owned), and was utterly captivated. The following year, Midnight's Children was on my list of 20-odd books my thesis advisor had me read before I began my Honours thesis (in case you are wondering, the selections ranged from Vanity Fair and Kipling's Kim to Ruth Prawer Jhabvala and Rushdie).
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