Being familiar with Chautauqua, I was staggered to relive the violence in this tranquil setting. Unspoken in this account is the fact that in mere minutes' drive is Jamestown, known for Lucille Ball and the National Comedy Center. Does anyone else find this geographic juxtaposition as bizarre as I do? Rushdie's narrative is a can't-put-down lesson in how the brutal unthinkable can morph into a triumph of love: not sentimentality, but deep appreciation of coming out the other side.