Page turner: 2/10
Heart tugger: 4/10
Thought provoker: 8/10
Overall: 2 stars

My copy of Midnight’s Children is 647 pages long.  I know this, not because I finished reading the book only a few minutes ago, but because I have checked how many pages I have to go probably about 447 times (I didn’t check the first 100 – that’d be rude, and I could do the math quite easily the last 100).  This book was long. And it was a chore.

Now before I rant overly much about the hard-slog-reading-that-is-the-first-two-thirds-of-this-book I would like to conduct a bit of a thought experiment that I learned whilst reading Daniel Kahneman’s book ‘Thinking Fast and Slow’. I think (hope?) Salman Rushdie would approve. The true experiment isn’t exactly possible, but hopefully you’ll get the idea. I am going to describe this book in 6 words. First, three positive words. Then, three negative words. Then I’ll do it the other way ’round. Using the same six words. Bear with.

Positive: magical, intelligent, organic
Negative: dense, meandering, self-important

Now, think for a second about what impression this leads you with. Now try to forget the words.

Ok.

Negative: dense, meandering, self-important
Positive: magical, intelligent, organic

Think again about what impression this description leaves you with.

In his book, Kahneman is using a similar experiment show how humans are effected by first impressions. It is meant to do a great deal more than describe novels, but hopefully I can use the device to demonstrate how I feel about this book, resulting in a confusing mix of ambiguity and frustration. Which, to be fair, is probably what Rushdie was going for.

In the positive-first scenario I go away thinking that Midnight’s Children is a book of magical realism, a splendidly original and creative piece of fiction that brilliantly characterizes the birth and trials of India as a nation, that happens to be a bit self-indulgent and long-winded. And, upon reading this description, I don’t disagree. The way in which Rushdie manages to tie the life of Saleem (the protagonist) inextricably from that of his country – from the moment of his birth through his first 31 years – is intellectually fascinating.  And worthy of a place in the top 100 books of the 20th century.  (It come’s 90th)

In the negative-first scenario I get the impression that a windy-but-intelligent author has a good idea, but it. He’s intentionally perverse. And a bit mad. My gosh does he use a lot of ellipses … It does … I think … get to be a bit much. And I know I am occasionally one to get carried away with punctuation and capitalization. And why the need to recap so often through the book? And isn’t the part in the jungle just a bit much? And it astounds me how a book can manage to be Both meandering AND dense. That is a literary feat fit only for as much sarcasm as I can muster. And, as I pause to re-read this description I also agree with myself. I didn’t like the book.  There are lots of others that I think I would give awards and plaudits to, instead.

I both liked and didn’t like this book. My ratings err on the ‘didn’t like’ side as a word of caution. It took me nearly three weeks (including two inter-continental flights!) to read this book. It would normally take me days. But I do feel good for (finally!!) having read it.

The front cover of my copy has a quote by the Sunday Times that describes Midnight’s Children as ‘vital’. Whilst my personal taste would disagree with the connotation of necessity, I very much agree with the idea of this book having vitality. (If you can make it through the first quarter of the book – during which the main character and narrator hasn’t even told of his own birth.) There is humanity in this book. And it is an utterly original idea.

Finally, this book features on both the Modern Library and Man Booker prize lists.  Which means, it was recognized in its day and retrospectively – which is impressive.  And I can understand that it is of historical significance, and for the ‘positive scenario’ described above. I can understand, but not personally Agree with it purely because I found it to be quite so unreadable. It’s a book I am proud to have read, but wouldn’t particularly advise you to read!