A Common Pornography wasn't bad, but felt like an outline for a memoir, rather than a fully-realized narrative. The question of "whose lives are worth examining" comes to mind - there wasn't enough detail - about the abusive father and the like - to warrant a book. An essay, maybe, but not enough weight for a book. This was basically some snapshots of a relatively average American - felt hungry again an hour after reading.
More honesty and depth of personal reflection - fairly surface and unremarkable observations.
Better text - Rushdie entitlement is repugnant
No - I love memoir. Rather Joseph Anton should be embarrassed to be included with real self-reflective nonfiction, a genre of culpability and honesty, which uses the courageous first person instead of hiding behind "he."
The author's supercilious attitude was perfectly captured.
Fascinating story - I was hoping for enlightenment about a world that censors free speech and expression, but instead only heard how highly the author regarded himself, as he endlessly outlined his global impact and recounted his accolades (and trashed his detractors and ex-wives). There was no self-awareness, just a one-sided diatribe that obscured what could have been an in-depth reflection on the current religious fanaticism.
Don't give Rushdie another thought; just give him the number of a good shrink.
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