Malik Solanka is suffering from a deep-seeded fury. In a blackout rage he nearly slices up his wife with a knife in the middle of the night. Thinking a change of pace might cure him, Solanka moves to NYC (which is basically the least peaceful place on earth). His fury only grows, but the problem is that he is never conscious when he unleashes this inner rage. Thus, he begins to suspect himself of being the serial killer who has been killing women by smashing their heads with pieces of concrete.
Salman Rushdie’s psychological examination of Solanka is superb. He crafts a beautiful novel with intrigue and emotionality—and even an obsession with dolls. Rushdie seamlessly inserts literary allusions (Voltaire! Swift!) in his storytelling and his smart prose writing instantly elevates the IQ of anyone reading. In Fury, he crafted a compelling story with enough crazy characters to create unexpected surprises along the way. You never know where the story will lead.
I could come up with a multitude of praises for this novel, but it would be better if you just read it yourself. Meanwhile, I’ll be checking out the rest of his novels; I’m always excited when I find a writer that can surprise and excite me.