There is some distant relationship between F Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby and Salman Rushdie’s thirteenth novel: Both are about great power and money, about the crumbling American dream, and about a great fall and death. Both are narrated by outsiders: René Unterlinden, a millennial New Yorker, might as well have been a few generations removed from Nick Carraway. But the relationship ends there. The most evident sign of this divergence is number of the pages in both novels. Fitzgerald’s masterpiece about the Jazz Age barely makes it to 250 pages in even the most generously published edition; Rushdie’s latest

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