The joys of rereading

I took Rushdie's Enchantress of Florence with me on my recent brief trip, figuring it would last a couple of flights at least. I haven't touched it since my extremely fast initial read right when it came out, when I was dazzled by the prose and scope. Though I am also enjoying it very much this time through (am almost done), this seems to be one of those rare instances in which I can't recapture that magical first read. There will be other pleasures, like enjoying turns of phrase more now that I'm not as swept up in the plot -- which incidentally feels much less complicated this time around, either because I have some recollection of what's going on or my head is just screwed on tighter these days (not likely). I'd certainly still recommend it to all.