Frankenstein in Baghdad

The novel begins in part by undermining our perspective of one of the main characters, Hadi. The first person we meet is Elishva, an old widow, who hates three people: Hadi, Faraj, and Abu Zaidoun. However, in the next chapter, Hadi is presented not as nefarious but more so as pitiful—he is an impoverished junk dealer who is grief-stricken following the death of his closest—perhaps only, save for Aziz—friend. This contrast sets the tone for a core question of the nature of truth, morality, and identity that culminates in the Creature’s own reckoning with innocence and guilt midway through the book, when he realizes—with the aid of the Magician—that there are no fully innocent or guilty people, but rather that everyone is a mix of these two things.

In fact, the novel adamantly refuses to ascribe clear value judgments to any of its characters, instead demonstrating that this truth is in the eye of the beholder. The Creature himself is the primary example: He sees himself as a righteous savior of the people of Baghdad, but the people of Baghdad themselves fear and hate him, and they rejoice in the streets when they believe he’s been arrested. Likewise, Saidi and Majid are each portrayed as duplicitous, nefarious people, yet their presentation in the novel often undermines this portrayal: Majid is powerless and frustrated, and he falls even further from grace by the end of the book; Saidi, on the other hand, is in exile, and while he likely did lie to Mahmoud about some things, our own readerly perspective vindicates other aspects of his story.

If anything, what the novel appears to punish is ambition—not necessarily to criticize ambition, but more likely to suggest that ambition in the midst of chaos is almost invariably going to fail. The characters in the novel seeking something better largely end up failing, sometimes in ruins, while the characters getting by typically end up okay. Hadi is a good example of this dynamic: He initially runs into trouble because he tries to do something good for the dead instead of just keeping his head down as an alcoholic junk dealer; later, when things are spiraling out of control, he makes up his mind to start fresh and make something of himself, an effort that only lasts until his arrest under suspicion of being Criminal X. The novel doesn’t make the claim that he’s a good or bad person, or that he’s an innocent or guilty person; however, what we see is that his attempt to be more than what he is seems to be his downfall. 

Power and fortune in the novel are frequently aligned with support for different regimes; however, the issue is often more complicated that simply who supported, or supports, whom. Understanding these dynamics helps us to understand what might appear to be fortune in the novel, though, as such fortunes are typically more aligned with these power dynamics.

For example, Faraj and Abu Anmar appear to be opposite sides of the same coin: They are both Bataween residents and businessmen, but Faraj’s realty company is doing well, whereas Abu Anmar’s hotel is crumbling. It might be easy to pass this off as a result of changing fortunes following the invasion, as the kinds of guests the Orouba used to attract are not as plentiful as they once were, or that Faraj’s success is due to his willingness to be shady and underhanded. Both assessments might be accurate, but an additional factor is that Faraj’s friends are now in power, whereas Abu Anmar’s friends are not. As a result, Faraj’s illicit dealings are overlooked, whereas Abu Anmar does not have the kind of support that might help him through his troubles.

Things are more complicated with Majid and Saidi, making the novel’s claims about power dynamics to be less clear-cut at the higher levels. It is suggested that Majid’s network stretches far enough that, for example, he is able to avoid de-Baathification policies—in which members of the Baath party, formerly led by Saddam Hussein, were purged from governmental positions—due to help from his friends; likewise, even after his inquisition at the end of the novel, Majid is able to avoid truly ending his career due to this network of friends. On the other hand, while Saidi enjoys some good fortune initially due to his prior opposition to the Baaths, his ambition to greater heights proves to be his downfall—either because that ambition led those in power to keep him in check with trumped-up charges, or because those charges are real, and he felt he could get away with his acts because of his position.

Here, the key difference appears to be the characters’ willingness to work within the system. Majid maintained friendly relations across lines, suggesting that his willingness to adhere to the system helped keep him safe; Saidi flouts social conventions and pays the price for doing so. The earlier example of Faraj and Abu Anmar might support this, as well—after all, the end of the novel sees Abu Anmar driving away in a new car, escaping the city with his modest proceeds, whereas Faraj takes a substantial loss after the hotel is destroyed in the explosion.