I read with horror this morning, not even an hour ago, that Mr. Rushdie has been stabbed on stage, about to lecture in NY.
I remember as a young writer in the 80s, when a price was put on him—a fatwa—for The Satanic Verses, and he went into hiding for almost a decade. I remember thinking “how can this be?” and feeling naive and overwhelmed. Writing, for me, felt both exciting and terrifying—but not in a way that meant one could die for it.
I remember the next time I sat to write at that time. I wondered what it is to write on the outside. For the first time I began to sense the shadow of the written word. The ‘pen is mightier than the sword’—and all that. Later, the translator of his book to Japanese was stabbed to death, and the Norwegian publisher shot and wounded. The sword speaks loudly in our world.
Not long ago, here on Substack, a couple of writers were joking about jostling aside Mr. Rushdie on the so-called leaderboard for “Fiction” newsletters. I found the exchange disrespectful. No, I can’t compare—and am not—a moment of levity with this, now. But the exchange took me back to ’88, and I had to think about what some writers endure for their work. And how others among us might pull back from saying what needs to be said, or exploring how a story needs to be in the world. Some write to entertain or inform about the day-to-day, and are blessedly free of this. But we live in times of words being considered “violent” and, unwittingly, entertainment or information can be read as something else. What happens when the violence includes blood and not ink?
Some stories must be told. Questions need to be asked. We need to be able to write and publish and read and share and speak.
I have been enjoying Mr. Rushdie’s work here, and hope to see more of it. Soon.
Wishing medical wisdom and strength for his healing—
Alison
And 3:07 p.m. — the amazing Charlie Demers just posted this:
Thank you for this.
Holy crap. I was already in the States when he had to go into hiding, and that was a long time ago. Horrifying. I am so appalled to hear this.