This slim volume serves as a kind of coda to Salman Rushdie's longer memoir, "Joseph Anton", in which he described his years of hiding following the fatwa. For several years he had remained under close security in case of an assassination attempt. In the opening pages of this memoir he describes the dread thought that came to him as a man wielding a knife ran onto the stage at his New York speaking event and assaulted him in August 2022: "So it's you. Here you are." The knife attack lasted no more than thirty seconds, so there isn't much to tell. The bulk of these pages are spent on describing the aftermath, a four month recovery which had me squirming with its various tales of body horror. But other than losing an eye and some of the mobility of his hand, Rushdie emerged from his ordeal remarkably fit. As one person told him, "You are fortunate your assailant didn't know how to kill a man with a knife."

Rushdie is exploring the idea of whether, having not been killed, this incident made him stronger. While he is not so sure, I agree with his friend Martin Amis that he is at least equal to it. My fear upon hearing the news at that time, aside from concern for whether he would live, was whether he would be changed in attitude and stance. Whether anger at this unfair act might diminish him. While he struggles here to understand the meaning of what happened, he has the same tone, the same dashes of humour and free association, the same moral stance that he has always held.

The chapter in which he imagines a conversation with his attacker is, I think, the crux of this work and the portion of the story he most needed to explore. He penetrates the mind of a fundamentalist extremist: how one becomes such, what it drives one to believe, how that belief drives one to act, and - I think it very likely - how fear and despair are that person's primary motivators and will never go away after they cross the line into violence. I would only have added the thought that every time such a person dismisses a question by saying "Every believer knows this", what they are truly saying is "I don't know." I was imagining the attacker in his jail cell years from now, perhaps long after Rushdie has passed (of old age, one hopes), daring at last to pick up this book and read this chapter. I expect Rushdie has imagined it, too. ( )

I've heard Rushdie interviewed about this incident and I admit, I have not read most of his novels. Although I was familiar with his descriptions of the attack, I appreciated the reflective tone which comes across in print. In particular, I enjoyed his reckoning with yet another dramatic incident which can define him more than his work. ( )

In August of 2022, a young man with a knife attacked Salman Rushdie as the renowned author was delivering a lecture. Rushdie sustained multiple injuries and lost the vision in one eye along with the functionality of one of his hands. Rushdie’s latest book, Knife, documents what happened on that bright August morning, as well as the author’s surprising physical and psychological recovery.

For a short book, Knife is remarkably wide ranging. Rushdie goes into detail about all his ailments, both attack-induced and not, as well as his nuanced thoughts regarding religion, literature, and his fellow authors. He discusses his tabloid images as “a party animal” and “not a nice man.” In the most touching moments of this memoir, he expresses his love and gratitude towards his (fifth) wife and adult children. In my least favorite part of the book, Rushdie imagines a dialogue between himself and his attacker. This part felt like padding.

Despite Rushdie’s reputation for literary complexity, I found this memoir engaging and accessible. Highly recommended. ( )