THE LAST POMEGRANATE TREE

Superbly realized novel of life, death, and what lies between.

Muzafar-i Subhdam has had a rough time of it in Saddam Hussein’s Iraq, imprisoned for 21 years. Now he is free—but not really, since his friend and fellow Kurdish soldier Yaqub-i Snawbar is keeping him captive “inside a large mansion, within a sequestered forest” while a plague rages outside. (Ali’s novel was first published in 2002, so it’s not the plague we know.) Besides, Yaqub adds ominously, “You’re dead....You don’t exist.” Muzafar has forgotten everything about the world except his son, Saryas-i Subhdam, whose life is a series of encounters with danger. Blending magical realism with dark fables worthy of Kafka, Kurdish novelist Ali spins episodes that require the willing suspension of disbelief while richly rewarding that surrender. One narrative strand concerns young Muhammad the Glass-Hearted, a friend of Saryas', who falls in love with a woman who might well be a djinn or ghost: Muhammad dies, brokenhearted, and she visits his grave, there to find that Muhammad is surrounded by many friends killed during clashes with Saddam’s forces. At least Muhammad lived long enough to see, with Saryas, a mysterious place where a head decapitated by Saddam’s security agents reunites with its body and nourishes the pomegranate tree of the title. Muhammad may be too sensitive for his own good, but he knows the meaning of that tree, proclaiming that it belongs to everyone: “A real father plants for all the children in the world, for all those who come after him.” Alas, so many of those children are doomed: One horrific moment comes in a boys home full of victims of bombings and land mines, armless and legless, “strange beings you wouldn’t see anywhere else,” deathly silent. Muzafar’s search for his son never ends; nor, Ali writes in magnificent summation, does his haunting story, “this tale of glass boys living in a glass time in a glass country.”

Altogether extraordinary: a masterwork of modern Middle Eastern literature deserving the widest possible audience.