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Salman Rushdie was interviewed on Newsnight on 28 July 2008 about his new book The Enchantress of Florence. Here are two short extracts from chapter one:

"In the day's last light the glowing lake below the palace-city looked

like a sea of molten gold. A traveller coming this way at sunset -

this traveller, coming this way, now, along the lakeshore road -

might believe himself to be approaching the throne of a monarch so

fabulously wealthy that he could allow a portion of his treasure to be

poured into a giant hollow in the earth to dazzle and awe his guests.

And as big as the lake of gold was, it must be only a drop drawn

from the sea of the larger fortune - the traveller's imagination could

not begin to grasp the size of that mother-ocean! Nor were there

guards at the golden water's edge; was the king so generous, then, that

he allowed all his subjects, and perhaps even strangers and visitors like

the traveller himself, without hindrance to draw up liquid bounty

from the lake? That would indeed be a prince among men, a veritable

Prester John, whose lost kingdom of song and fable contained impossible

wonders. Perhaps (the traveller surmised) the fountain of eternal

youth lay within the city walls - perhaps even the legendary doorway

to Paradise on Earth was somewhere close at hand? But then the sun

fell below the horizon, the gold sank beneath the water's surface, and

was lost. Mermaids and serpents would guard it until the return of

daylight. Until then, water itself would be the only treasure on offer,

a gift the thirsty traveller gratefully accepted.

In the caravanserai all was bustle and hum. Animals were cared

for, horses, camels, bullocks, asses, goats, while other, untameable

animals ran wild: screechy monkeys, dogs that were no man's pets.

Shrieking parrots exploded like green fireworks in the sky. Blacksmiths

were at work, and carpenters, and in chandleries on all four sides of

the enormous square men planned their journeys, stocking up on

groceries, candles, oil, soap and ropes. Turbaned coolies in red shirts

and dhotis ran ceaselessly hither and yon with bundles of improbable

size and weight upon their heads. There was, in general, much loading

and unloading of goods. Beds for the night were to be cheaply had

here, wood-frame rope beds covered with spiky horsehair mattresses,

standing in military ranks upon the roofs of the single-storey buildings

surrounding the enormous courtyard of the caravanserai, beds

where a man might lie and look up at the heavens and imagine himself

divine. Beyond, to the west, lay the murmuring camps of the emperor's

regiments, lately returned from the wars. The army was not permitted

to enter the zone of the palaces but had to stay here at the foot of

the royal hill. An unemployed army, recently home from battle, was

to be treated with caution. The stranger thought of ancient Rome.

An emperor trusted no soldiers except his praetorian guard. The traveller

knew that the question of trust was one he would have to answer

convincingly. If he did not he would quickly die."