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Monday, December 20, 2004

The house of Ray and Rushdie

[M]an is a storytelling animal. As far as I know, we are the only creatures on the earth that tells itself stories, true stories, and imaginary stories. We tell ourselves stories to understand ourselves. And as a result, the story becomes important not just to writers and readers, but to all of us whether we ever write a story or read one.

Take for example the family. I’ve said one thing about families in my books. They’re often quite weird. The biggest lie that we live inside is the lie called ordinary life. “How’s everything at home?” People say, “Fine, everything’s fine.” Now actually, we know when you go behind the door of the family, it’s mayhem in there. It’s not fine, it’s not peaceful, it’s very turbulent and difficult — the mad aunts and wicked uncles and crazy relatives and corrupt cousins...it’s hell inside there. And then there’s also love and understanding.... Then we become stories, and that in fact is our little bit of immortality –— “Oh, you should remember great Uncle Salman, he got himself in some trouble once...”

From Salman Rushdie's wonderful speech on Satyajit Ray and the art of storytelling. One of its trivial revelations: the old house in Ghare Baire was the same as the one in The Satanic Verses. Read it all.
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