Energetic and musical, Rushdie's prose is positively mesmerizing when you hear it read aloud. This panoramic work is framed with the death of rock goddess Vina Aspara. The story of her life and love affair with musical prodigy Ormus Cama is told by Rai, a photographer who also loved Vina. Rai worships the ground beneath her feet, even as he ponders the loss of terra firma in modern culture.
©1999 Salman Rushdie; (P)1999 Recorded Books, LLC
"No novelist currently writing in English does so with more energy, intelligence and allusiveness than Rushdie. Nearly every page of The Ground Beneath Her Feet offers something to arrest a devoted reader's attention: puns and wordplays galore . . . and enough literary echoes—of Joyce, Yeats, Frost, Dante, oh hell, of nearly everybody—to keep graduate students on the prowl through these pages for years." (Paul Gray, Time)
"Lusty, sprawling, acid-high. With it, Rushdie enters a new rawness, a different madhouse, America." (The Washington Post)
“a spirited, head-spinning entertainment from a writer of undeniable genius.” (Publishers Weekly)
I was entranced when I first started listening to this book. I don't think anyone writes more beautiful sentences in the English language than Rushdie. And yet he somehow managed to turn a book about rags-to-riches jetsetting popstars caught in earthquakes and alternate realities into a big yawn. How? By beating the listener over the head again and again and again with every classical illusion and obscure reference he could pull out of his pocket. I wanted to grab him by the lapels and ask: Do you want to tell us a story, or do you want to show off how smart you are? Make up your mind please!
I was a big fan of the audio version of Shalimar the Clown by Rushdie and decided to give The Ground Beneath Her Feet a try. Don't bother.
There is so much irrelevant backstory that is in this book that it just sinks under it's own weight. If I heard one more reference to Orfeo and Euridice in just the first part of this book I was going to scream! I love delving into characters, one of the reasons I thought The Cider House Rules and A Prayer for Owen Meany were so wonderful, but the narrative in this book is simply irrelevant to the story. Perhaps Rushdie got paid by the page?
The storyteller is supposed to be a paparazzi who is both friend and lover to a pop diva. If you've ever met a photographer who talks and acts like this character, then you've occupied a different planet than I have.
I know there are people who enjoyed this book, but I am definitely not one of them!
good reader, long winded story and this coming from someone who loves War and Peace!
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