click to enlarge  

Spring 2008

  Current Issue
  Past Issues
  Contact Us
 
| |
Reading with Rushdie
By Roopika Risam

POP QUIZ:
If you take a class with Professor Salman Rushdie, you might:
a) Learn lots of intriguing details about his literati friends.
b) Spend three hours a week doubled-over with laughter.
c) Find a dissertation topic.
d) All of the above.

This spring marked writer Salman Rushdie’s second graduate seminar in Emory’s Department of English. As part of an agreement with Emory, Professor Rushdie has donated his papers to the Manuscript, Archives, and Rare Book Library and will teach courses and visit classes for five years. In its first incarnation, during the 2006-07 academic year, Professor Rushdie’s course, “Contemporary World Writers,” featured short stories and novels by authors whose work had influenced his own: Günter Grass, Italo Calvino, Gabriel García Márquez, and Jorge Luis Borges. On the first day of my class, Professor Rushdie announced that the short story collection and novels he had chosen for our syllabus this year had their own organizing principle: authors that are friends of his. Predictably, this announcement earned a chuckle from the class. For me, it elicited a bit of nervousness as well. What if we simply did not like his friends’ texts? Would he be open to disagreements or to critique? These worries were unfounded. Although Professor Rushdie was invested in the literature he had chosen for our class, he seemed excited about revisiting the books in our graduate seminar and hearing our opinions – both positive and negative.

a) Learn lots of intriguing details about his literati friends.
In other English seminars, students and professors approach our reading material together, trying to make sense of the material before us. While Professor Rushdie encouraged a similar cooperative approach to literature, his course afforded something that not every professor can offer: intimate knowledge about the authors and long histories of friendship with them. At the beginning of each course, Professor Rushdie spent some time contextualizing our reading assignments. He offered details about their lives and education, indicating influences on these writers such as the importance of Hanif Kureishi’s relationship to his father for his novel The Buddha of Suburbia. Greatly knowledgeable about both literature and culture, Professor Rushdie could point out important allusions that we might have missed like quotations from the most marginal British poets in Anita Desai’s In Custody. Additionally, Professor Rushdie spoke most generously about his fellow writers, telling us, for example, of The Remains of the Day author Kazuo Ishiguro’s – or Ish, as he calls him – immense modesty about his own talents.

b) Spend three hours a week doubled-over with laughter.
Most notable about Professor Rushdie’s seminar, however, is the large percentage of time that we spent laughing at his jokes, as well as at the anecdotes he shared about his friends. In our first class, he shared stories about Angela Carter’s cocktail party quirks, the details of which complemented our reading of Burning Your Boats, her short story collection. And this is precisely what is most enjoyable about Professor Rushdie’s course; the high hilarity and entertainment value of the class offered a new perspective on the authors and books we read, rather than detracting from them.

c) Find a dissertation topic.
Lest you think that Professor Rushdie’s class was all giggles, we read a novel or short story collection for each class and wrote a paper as well. After Professor Rushdie’s introduction to the text and author, he called on each of us in turn, asking for our request as if he were deejaying our class discussion. Because our class included English, comparative literature, anthropology, and history PhD students, and even a student from the medical school, our discussion interests were quite diverse. Conversation flowed easily between Professor Rushdie and us students. He responded to our comments, elaborated on them, and used them as springboards to new topics of conversation. Because many courses that we otherwise take are so focused on specific themes or theories, we do not always have the chance to have the free-flowing class discussions that Professor Rushdie facilitated. Also, because he is more of a writer than a literary critic, Professor Rushdie’s approach to literature is entirely different from those who are trained primarily as literary scholars. As a result, the course focused frequently on craft – how authors were shaping their stories and why they made certain decisions about points of view or narrative techniques. Professor Rushdie’s position as a writer also made for some of the funnier moments in the course. He famously dislikes the way theory has become so important in English departments, particularly because he is a writer. Additionally, towards the end of our course, Professor Rushdie criticized the class for what he termed our Dickensian desire to find out what happens to characters once a novel or story is over. From his perspective, nothing keeps happening to his characters once his novels are over, and he chastened us by saying with a laugh, “They’re not real.”
When I signed up for Professor Rushdie’s class, I had not expected that I would find ideas for a dissertation by taking the class. While my specialization is in postcolonial literature – yes, that includes Professor Rushdie’s work – I have been trying to form an intellectually interesting and coherent project, bridging postcolonial literature with other literatures including African-American. After rereading Hanif Kureishi’s The Buddha of Suburbia for Professor Rushdie’s class, I was struck by Kureishi’s descriptions of England’s Asian Youth Movement and the inclusion of elements of black power – such as Angela Davis – in the narrative. I had the opportunity to discuss my ideas with Professor Rushdie, who was able to give me suggestions about other authors I should read or people with whom I should speak. When I told Professor Rushdie that I am specializing in postcolonial literature, I quickly said, “Don’t worry – I’m not studying you.” He replied, “Good! There are far too many people doing that already.”

d) All of the above.
When I first began to pursue postcolonial literature, I never could have imagined that I would have the opportunity to study under Professor Rushdie. Doing so has offered new dimensions for my own research and fresh perspectives on Professor Rushdie’s own work. As I told him before he left, I hope that he will be teaching a new set of novels next year, so I can have an excuse to take his class again.


Roopika Risam is a first-year PhD student in English from Washington, D.C.
features