‘Writing about music is like dancing about architecture’, or so the saying goes. That hasn’t stopped writers from trying. Salman Rushdie’s The Ground Beneath Her Feet is an epic tome devoted to music, specifically rock ‘n’ roll. It’s a loose retelling of the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, spanning fifty years and three continents. In it, Rushdie creates a potent mix of romance, alternate history, magical realism, and social commentary, following our pair of star-crossed lovers as they become the biggest band in the world.
The lovers in question are Ormus Cama and Vina Aspara, born in Bombay and coming of age just as rock music is getting started. Ormus is a musical genius, and Vina has the voice of a goddess, so their partnership seems inevitable. Together, they cross the ocean to the USA and form the group VTO (Vina-to-Ormus), quickly becoming one of the most revered pairings in musical history. The novel is narrated by their mutual friend, Rai, also in love with Vina and doomed to watch from the sidelines as the two of them rise to the heights of stardom.
Rushdie’s extravagant style is in full force here, dazzling the reader with all manner of linguistic feats. It’s dense with wordplay and references to mythology, popular culture, and history. The opening chapter in particular, which narrates Vina’s death in an earthquake, is a breathtaking bit of scene-setting, with Rushdie at the peak of his descriptive powers.
The framing device of Rai setting down his side of the story is key to the novel’s success. The perspective of someone who knows Ormus and Vina intimately but is nevertheless an outsider gives it a melancholy feel, even in Rushdie’s most whimsical flights of fancy. It also grounds what could have been a pie-in-the-sky romance, lending the outlandish story believability and credence.
The detail with which Rushdie sketches out their lives is incredible. We learn all about their family histories, their interpersonal dramas, and bear witness to a multitude of stories-within-the-story, following a vast miscellany of characters that are tied up with the fateful couple. The first half of the novel, set in Bombay, is the best half, before they even get started with music. Seeing how their early lives pan out is fascinating, and Bombay is practically a character in itself, vibrant and alive.
As the novel goes on, so much happens that it does sometimes feel that Rushdie is struggling to hold it all together. Narrative threads get lost, character arcs don’t all resolve, and the rootedness that characterised the first half of the novel goes astray. It ends up somewhat overstaying its welcome, dragging out the end as if Rushdie is reluctant to finish. But what it adds up to is something grand, and if it falls short of perfection, it’s still a testament to its author’s formidable abilities.
So, how does Rushdie deal with the problems of writing about music? The answer is simple: by writing about people, and place, and history. The Ground Beneath Her Feet is a tribute to the unifying power of music in a fractured world, and how through art, we can transcend our flawed, human selves, leaving something behind that lasts.
Review by Charlie Alcock
Rushdie’s extravagant style is in full force here, dazzling the reader with all manner of linguistic feats. It’s dense with wordplay and references to mythology, popular culture, and history. The opening chapter in particular, which narrates Vina’s death in an earthquake, is a breathtaking bit of scene-setting, with Rushdie at the peak of his descriptive powers.
The framing device of Rai setting down his side of the story is key to the novel’s success. The perspective of someone who knows Ormus and Vina intimately but is nevertheless an outsider gives it a melancholy feel, even in Rushdie’s most whimsical flights of fancy. It also grounds what could have been a pie-in-the-sky romance, lending the outlandish story believability and credence.
The detail with which Rushdie sketches out their lives is incredible. We learn all about their family histories, their interpersonal dramas, and bear witness to a multitude of stories-within-the-story, following a vast miscellany of characters that are tied up with the fateful couple. The first half of the novel, set in Bombay, is the best half, before they even get started with music. Seeing how their early lives pan out is fascinating, and Bombay is practically a character in itself, vibrant and alive.
As the novel goes on, so much happens that it does sometimes feel that Rushdie is struggling to hold it all together. Narrative threads get lost, character arcs don’t all resolve, and the rootedness that characterised the first half of the novel goes astray. It ends up somewhat overstaying its welcome, dragging out the end as if Rushdie is reluctant to finish. But what it adds up to is something grand, and if it falls short of perfection, it’s still a testament to its author’s formidable abilities.
So, how does Rushdie deal with the problems of writing about music? The answer is simple: by writing about people, and place, and history. The Ground Beneath Her Feet is a tribute to the unifying power of music in a fractured world, and how through art, we can transcend our flawed, human selves, leaving something behind that lasts.
Review by Charlie Alcock
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