Betool Khedairi; translated by Muhayman Jamil
Absent by Betool Khedairi, translated from the Arabic by Muhayman Jamil, unfolds in a series of vignettes focusing on the occupants of a crowded apartment building in Baghdad during the 1990s. It is told in the first-person voice of Dalal, a young high school student who grows into adulthood by the end of the novel.
Orphaned at a young age when her parents die in an exploding landmine, Dalal lives with her aunt and her aunt’s husband. Her mouth is disfigured due to a stroke she suffered at an early age. She is haunted by her appearance and initially harbors the hope her disfigurement can be corrected with plastic surgery. But when her aunt’s husband uses the money allocated for her surgery to start a beekeeping business in order to earn much needed cash through the sale of honey, Dalal abandons hope.
Through Dalal, we meet the occupants of the apartment building. They are an assorted group representing a cross-section of Iraqi society: Umm Mazin, the resident fortune-teller specializing in concoctions to alleviate domestic and social ailments; Saad, the hairdresser who specializes in making women feel better about their appearance; Ilham, Dalal’s friend, a nurse who reveals the horrors she witnesses in the hospital; Uncle Sami, a former photographer who has lost his sight as a result of insulin shortages. And then there is Dalal’s aunt who tries to eke a living by sewing outfits adorned with padded shoulders and copious buttons; and Dalal’s uncle, a collector of Iraqi art, who enters the world of beekeeping with gusto.
Ever present as a backdrop is the impact on Iraqi civilians of the debilitating consequences of economic sanctions and the never-ending bombs raining terror from the skies. Ilham describes in graphic terms the horror of dismembered limbs; the after-effects of depleted uranium and cluster bombs on the bodies of children; and the shortage of medical supplies and equipment. To add to the unmitigated horror, Iraqi civilians live in terror of the secret service, of loved ones carted off never to be heard from again, of informers infiltrating neighborhoods, of a population living in constant fear of stepping out of line, and of a repressive government that demands sacrifice from its population while feeding it a daily dose of lies and propaganda.
A picture emerges of a people desperately struggling to survive under the most horrific circumstances. But in spite of the horror, the characters try to maintain normal lives. Dalal attends school and goes to work. Marriages and births take place. People adjust to the changing circumstances by varying their trade and by re-purposing used products. The resilience and determination of the human spirit to survive is nothing short of admirable.
The fragmentary nature of the narrative and somewhat stilted dialogue make it a choppy read. Dalal’s tone is that of a detached observer. Some of the details she shares are gratuitous, appearing as fillers and contributing little to the narrative. For example, do we really need several paragraphs to describe how she removes a stray hair that finds its way inside her mouth? Fewer distractions, a more natural dialogue, and an engaged and engaging narrator would have improved on what is otherwise a compelling portrayal of the impact of war and sanctions on the daily lives of Iraqi civilians.
Recommended.