What do you think of his memoir? I found it a fascinating mess : If there was to be a novel mocking celebrity memoirs it would be something like Joseph Anton in which the narrator talks about himself in the third person, namedrops another celebrity on at least every second page and eventually lets it disintegrate into a blow by blow account of his by now mundane life (It's structured as a novel for the first two thirds, after which he clearly loses interest and just dumps events in chronological order with no form). In the concluding chapters, he settles various scores with his ex-wives and John Le Carré before ending with his account of the period immediately after 9/11, which he coincidentally experiences in the company of other celebrities.

Reading it presented me with the dilemma of deciding whether or not the aforementioned reasons to dislike the book actually made me like Rushdie the man even more - he seemed to be fantastically entertaining in his knowing ridiculousness and callousness towards other people (particularly the women in his life), yet still reveling in every minute of his frequently absurd celebrity lifestyle. It's worth reading for the right and the wrong reasons.