Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie

A great big roller-coaster of a read – Midnight’s Children is an exuberant, heartbreaking love letter to India. Rusdhie writes unflinchingly of this turbulent nation of extremes. It’s a postmodern, postcolonial magic realist novel influenced by Tristram Shandy (which I’ve never managed to read). It’s a sprawling account of the life of Saleem Sinai, born at the same moment as India achieved independence and therefore, like all the midnight children, mysteriously gifted. Sinai’s gift is telepathy – which he discovers when he is ten years old.

There were times during the 600 plus pages when I flagged – it would have been useful to know more about Indian history. But then I’d be drawn in again by the story teller, spinning his story for his Padma, and plunge right back into those rich, sensory descriptions. By the end of the novel I simply didn’t want it to end – and was very close to tears.

Rushdie’s second novel, Midnight’s Children won the Booker, the Booker of the Bookers and the Best of the Booker. It’s remarkable, magical and compelling. I’m so delighted that I finally got around to reading it.