Sololand by Hassan Blasim, translated by Jonathan Wright (Comma Press, £10.99)
This exceptional trio of novellas about postwar Iraq is filled with comedy and horror. In the first story, a boy is abducted from his family to work for Isis. Tests on sharia law penalties are easy – the answer is usually “death” – but the work is hard: “[he] picked up the commander’s head, put it in an empty flour bag”. Meanwhile, a woman becomes an Islamic State bride after closing her pharmacy down (“she could no longer tolerate Islamic State people interfering in her work and asking for Viagra”). In another story, a refugee goes to a city in an unspecified “North”, where anger boils over after two refugees rape a girl. “I found a Facebook page called ‘Refugees Welcome in Sololand’, with just 34 followers.” In the third, a young dreamer is tasked with running an email account so the local religious leader/militia commander can communicate with his “female admirers”. Blasim’s previous collection was award-winning: this one should be, too.
On the Clock by Claire Baglin, translated by Jordan Stump (Daunt, £9.99)
French writer Claire Baglin’s autofictional debut takes its inspiration from her own experiences of the workplace. The narrator gets a job at a fast-food restaurant. It’s a world of paradox: an entry-level gig requires a competitive interview process (“He’s expecting me to talk about the honour of joining a team”); the work is both stressful and dull, with customer demands well above her pay grade. “No no that’s not a piece of fingernail in your salad, it’s the end of your wooden fork.” Scenes of her time there alternate with memories of a working-class childhood: her father’s exhaustion after his factory shift work; the family apartment where the walls are so thin they can hear their neighbour’s parrot saying “Sarkozy sucks”; her shame after visiting a friend’s posh house. The message, of social immobility, is stark but delivered with energy and charm; and there is some room for hope. At work, “I dream that someone’s whispering in my ear it’s time, you can go now.”
