Sometimes when I'm reading about a period of history a detail will jump out at me concerning an individual or incident which inexplicably resonates with me. It might be something small which there isn't much more information about so I can only imagine the circumstances surrounding it, but it has a way of bringing the past alive and offers an insight beyond the broader historical picture. That's what happens to the narrator in the second half of “Minor Detail” by Adania Shibli. Amidst her working day she comes across an article which describes how a young Palestinian woman was captured by Israeli soldiers in the Negev desert during the War of 1948. The woman was repeatedly raped before being killed and buried in the sand. It's only one incident in a war which led to the displacement and exile of some 700,000 Palestinians. Though it only gets a brief mention in this larger article she considers how “There may in fact be nothing more important than this little detail, if one wants to arrive at the complete truth, which, by leaving out the girl's story, the article does not reveal.” The narrator was also born exactly twenty-five years after this murdered woman's death and this makes her feel an affinity towards her. She embarks on a perilous journey across hostile territory to discover more about this obscure victim. In 112 pages of spare, piercing prose Shibli evokes great emotion. She exposes the tragedy of individuals who were not only victims of war but whose loss has been trivialized or forgotten when their personal stories are buried in a larger view of history.

It's clever and moving how Shibli chose to structure this novel. The first half of the book recounts the circumstances surrounding this 1948 incident from the point of view of an Israeli commander. His days are related in short declarative sentenced stripped of embellishment or emotion which mirrors the regimental tasks that he and his soldiers carry out patrolling the desert. Therefore the way the captured woman is handled and treated is all the more heart-wrenching because it's described as if it were any other procedure like a daily bath or cleaning a gun. The narrative leaves out any graphic information of the woman's suffering which amplifies the brutality of what's happening between the lines. Instead, evocative details like a continuously barking dog or the smell of petrol create a sensory awareness and made me feel chillingly present in the scene. These descriptions take on even more resonance in the second half of the book when the narrator comes across the same sounds and smells. This forms a poignant bond between the two women and blurs different times into one. There's also a poetic beauty to the way the environment is described or the movement of light throughout the day. So even though the writing in this novel is very straightforward it's so effective in conveying the power of its subject matter.

This is such an artfully written and poignant novel which gives a very different perspective on a region and complicated conflict than what's portrayed in the news.

Set in the aftermath of America’s invasion of Iraq, “Frankenstein in Baghdad” portrays a city disintegrating under the strain of sectarian violence and dodgy leadership as the national military and American forces unevenly strive to establish order. Buildings are crumbling, families are moving out of the country and, after a junk dealer stitches together the body parts of bomb victims, this newly formed monster sets out on a killing rampage. I read this novel because it’s on the longlist for this year’s Man Booker International Prize. It’s particularly fascinating for me reading this modern reimagining of Frankenstein after having so recently read Mary Shelley’s classic novel. It’s notable how the novels are framed in a similar way. Shelley’s novel is a story about an explorer recording a dying doctor’s dramatic supernatural story. Saadawi similarly creates a story within a story about a man who wrote a novel after listening to the outrageous story he hears on a recording device. The way both Shelley and Saadawi’s novels are structured remove the reader slightly from the obviously fantastical elements of their stories and turn them into something more symbolic. Where Shelley concentrated more on themes of science and ambition, Saadawi is more concerned with creating a powerful message about the perpetual violence which is steadily destroying a great historic city.

One of the things which makes this novel so wonderfully engaging is its intricate and fascinating depiction of a community populated by quirky individuals. There’s a pious old lady who lives with a mangy cat and who is dismissed by many in the community as crazy. Her family, estate agents, furniture salesman and even a government housing project are trying to convince her to sell her stately home stuffed with antique furniture and art, but she stubbornly stays in place waiting for the return of her son who was probably lost in battle many years ago. There’s an ambitious journalist who finds himself inducted into high society and introduced to powerful government officials after a recent promotion. Amidst these newfound rings of privileged knowledge and covert dealings he finds it difficult to know who to trust. There’s an astrologer with many faces who advises a dodgy government agency about likely future acts of violence occurring in the city. It all builds to a complex portrait of a community beleaguered by unclear leadership and beset by perpetual random acts of violence.

This is what makes the undead patchwork monster or “Whatsitsname” so poignant as he’s an amalgam of all the vengeful feeling and backstabbing which is utterly destroying this city. At first his mission to avenge the deaths of all the victims he’s made up from has a clear plan of action. But, as time goes on, he understands his existence can’t persist without adding new pieces to himself whether they are hapless victims or not. The notion of innocent and guilty becomes very muddled – just as it is for any person of a particular nationality whose country has been embroiled in a complicated history of political battles and religious strife. This figure of a mythic rampaging monster who can’t be killed becomes a poignant symbol of ever-present spirit of violence which lurks in the shadowy corners of our society. This is a highly perceptive, original and strong novel.