Frankenstein in Baghdad

by Ahmed Saadawi

“I managed to install my new eyes and could see again. Seeing the body of the innocent old man, I had an idea and I clung to it—it looked like the truth I had been seeking. The old man was a sacrificial lamb that the Lord had placed in my path. He was the Innocent Man Who Will Die Tonight. So that was that.

Genius soluion

The man would have no qualms about using brute force to serve those in power, whether Saddam Hussein, the Americans, or the new government. Brigadier Majid had served or would serve them all.

saying there were three types of justice—legal justice, divine justice, and street justice—and that however long it takes, criminals must face one of them.

and in this book...Frankenstein justice!!

then the old janitor entered with two cups of Nescafé.

Name drop

“Yes, for a year or more he’s been carrying out the policy of the American ambassador to create an equilibrium of violence on the streets between the Sunni and Shiite militias,

at the negotiating table to make new political arrangements in Iraq. The American army is unable or unwilling to stop the violence, so at least a balance or an equivalence of violence has to be created. Without it, there won’t be a successful political process.”

Clever?

“My God, it’s serious business.” “As long as he’s our friend, there’s nothing to fear from him. Didn’t you say he was laughing with you and talking about smoking? Don’t worry about him. He’s a nice guy.” “A while back I said he’s a nice guy and you got upset.”

Cant tell if this is funny or scary

A dark, slim young woman with dyed hair came in, wearing jeans and lots of accessories. Her exotic perfume filled the room. It wasn’t Nawal al-Wazir; she was more flamboyant than Nawal, livelier and younger. She shook hands with Saidi,

Important ?

Adnan al-Anwar used to make fun of such men, associating suits with politicians and civil servants, as well as with the militiamen in natty suits who would jump out of their vehicles in the middle of the street to drag people out of their shops or cars and beat them up or abduct them.

Thats not how id thi nk of suits haha

But everything changes, and those who don’t wear suits don’t appreciate the advantages.

Anyone who puts on a crown, even if only as an experiment, will end up looking for a kingdom.”

Ohhhhhh very good

Hadi felt exploited.

longer. “There’s no harm in warning him so he doesn’t offend me again. I’m now taking revenge on people who insult me, not just on those who did violence to those whose body parts I’m made of,” the Whatsitsname said.

King Ghazi and King Faisal II, and of Abd al-Karim Qasim, Baghdad Central Station,

It was his old friend Hazem Abboud,

won’t accept that bastard’s offer, but I’ll make a counterproposal. I’ll sell him the whole hotel.”

Hadi’s house, and when Hadi came round from his delirium, Abu Salim’s youngest son ran home to get bandages, disinfectant, medical gauze, and medicine, because he sold such things in a stall in the Shorja market and had

The Whatsitsname was now at a loss for what to do. He knew his mission was essentially to kill, to kill new people every day, but he no longer had a clear idea who should be killed or why. The flesh of the innocents, of which he was initially composed, had

he was an exceptional killer who wouldn’t die by traditional means, he thought he should exploit this distinctive talent in the service of the innocent—in the service of truth and justice.

Wbhat job would u work if u couldn't die?

He bowed to the Whatsitsname and kissed his hand. The man said he had no idea what had happened to the other numbers—who had been

Metaphor

Another night he had some serious putrefaction problems and ran into a follower who believed he was the savior. The man took him to his house in the Fadhil district, avoiding the neighbors and prying eyes. When they were in the courtyard, this believer went into the kitchen and came back with a large knife. He told the Whatsitsname he could kill him and take the parts he needed.

fact, it was a large candelabra with writing above and below in what Hadi soon realized was Hebrew. When he was younger he had seen similar things on the walls of some of the houses in Bataween, and he immediately thought this, too, was something he could sell. When

BRIGADIER MAJID WAS in his office watching Farid Shawwaf speak on television about Criminal X, as the journalists were now calling the One Who Has No Name.

Voldamort

He felt instantly that this was the kind of sentence the well-dressed man on television might have said—the man who always wore suits the brigadier coveted but knew he would never wear as long as he was stuck

Not the first time theyve praided suits

Their names were all the same to him, and they would ask him many questions, as if he was the one who could read the tea leaves and foretell the future, but he knew there was only one question that brought them all the way to his office: “When and how will I die?” It usually came at the end of an exhausting list of questions, to give the impression that it was just one of many. “Should I order an armor-plated car, or don’t I need one?” one of the politicians once asked him. His parliamentary bloc had been assigned only three armor-plated cars, the politician explained; should he fight to obtain one?

Anyone else in his place would have exploited these politicians to promote himself, to try to obtain a more senior position and escape being trapped in the Tracking and Pursuit Department, but Brigadier Majid wanted to demonstrate his worth through real effort, not

At the same time, his young disciple was about to finish his secret experiment. He was trying to make contact with the spirit of the One Who Has No Name. While his superior was interested in knowing what the criminal’s face looked like, the junior astrologer was interested in his soul.

Over the past weeks he had managed to contact the family of Hasib Mohamed Jaafar, the guard who was killed at the Sadeer Novotel and whose soul settled in the body that Hadi had assembled in his shed.

“There are no innocents who are completely innocent or criminals who are completely criminal.”

He stood in the middle of the street and looked up at the sky, waiting for the final moment when he would disintegrate into his original components.

Drone?

Two years earlier, when the senior astrologer would come in with information like this, the brigadier would treat it as an emergency.

“We mitigate the effects, but we can’t stop them all. If they want to establish complete security, let them put us in charge of the country,” he sometimes said, with exaggerated confidence in himself and in the competence of the team of magicians and astrologers who worked under him. But he was deluded.

Kinda like war on drugs or terror

Who Has No Name?” “That would have been in the springtime, toward the end of April.”

“Yes, I think we played a role in creating this creature, in one way or another. Things were proceeding as usual before he appeared. I think some of our

so the first thing Zeina did after entering Mahmoud’s room was stand naked under the shower for a quarter of an hour.

unalloyed

Mahmoud could see her face in profile in the diffused light. She was furious, but she was still beautiful. A minute later he shouted at her, and she replied angrily, “Who’s this Nawal you’re going on about? I tell you my name’s Zeina, god damn it, and then you call me Nawal?”

Wonder what tthis industry is like here. this maakes me think about those times hyou call the wrong name not just in sex

“The Whatsitsname that Hadi talks about is in fact Nahem Abdaki, may he rest in peace,” he added. “How could it be him?” asked Mahmoud. Aziz explained

Mahmoud called Saidi’s secretary the next day, and she told him she had resigned. Her fiancé wouldn’t agree to her working at a place full of men, saying it was dangerous on the streets. Mahmoud didn’t know how to answer and preferred not to argue.

He couldn’t wait to move out of the limelight and go back to being a number two who receives orders from the boss. Mahmoud

Heavy lies the crown

Before they emerged onto the main street, they came across Sultan in his four-wheel drive, trying to turn into the lane.

Nawal said Saidi was evil, the most evil man she had ever known. She had met him through friends and had read a book of his that was published in London called The Conditions for Democracy in Rentier States.

He told her it would be about the evil we all have inside us, how it resides deep within us, even when we want to put an end to it in the outside world, because we are all criminals to some extent, and the darkness inside us is the blackest variety known to man. He said we have all been helping to create the evil creature that is now killing us off.

They had agreed to meet again so he could give her a preliminary summary of the screenplay, then they left the restaurant and got into the elevator to go downstairs. As soon as the door closed and they were alone, Mahmoud turned to Nawal, put his arms around her, and kissed her on her red lips. She submitted to him as he pressed his lips against hers and held her soft body tight in his arms. He had waited so long for this. When the elevator had reached the ground floor, Nawal pushed Mahmoud away with her hands and exited as soon as the door opened. Mahmoud tried to keep up with her. At the door of her car she said, “That wasn’t a nice thing to do. If I loved you, I would be more than generous. Try to respect me.”

Whats this dude thinking

Why hadn’t she rebuffed him more forcefully? She had lit a fire in him, then abandoned him.

He realized the curfew would start in less than an hour. Who

Curfew?

But I wanted to tell you, sir. You see, that woman Nawal is not cool. I hope you don’t believe anything she says. She was Mr. Ali’s girlfriend. He used to have fun with her. I mean, she stuck to him like flypaper, and then she wanted to marry him, and Mr. Ali doesn’t have time for stuff like that. I mean, you know .

“Anyway, it’s because of her that they brought this case against him. She started running after Mr. Ali, and then she started threatening him if he didn’t marry her. She’s a rude, loose woman, and she has connections in the Green Zone and relatives in parliament who caused trouble for the boss. You thought he’d gone to Beirut for a conference? No, he’s avoiding that whore Nawal.”

Other drivers on the same route said armed gangs were hijacking cars and, depending on the passengers’ religion, massacring some in the nearby orchards. Saidi tried to call Sultan several times, but no one answered. A day earlier

This was Abu Anmar, the owner of the Orouba Hotel. He turned the ignition key of the new GMC truck he had bought with the money from his deal with Faraj,