“Pastoralia,” the title story of this collection, is about two people who work at a theme park and pretend to be cavemen. As in Atropia, the protagonist is completely obsessed with maintaining authenticity and is deeply frustrated by his colleague who constantly breaks character, as well as the pointlessness of the visitors who come and don't really appreciate the craftsmanship involved in his work. There are also corporate overlords who are never seen.
My favorite detail about the story has to do with the fact that the caveman actors have to roast goats, which sometimes show up and sometimes don't—it's up to the overlords—and it's much easier for the story's protagonist to worry about not having a goat in the slot than to deal with real life outside of the simulation.
Exhibition of Corpses: And Other Stories of Iraq
Hasan Blasim
I think that because of the title, this book risks being misunderstood as very heavy. It definitely deals with some of the heaviest themes—death, war, betrayal. But it also has the gallows humor to end all gallows humor. The main story features an assassin having an extremely bureaucratic conversation with a recruit, explaining to him how best to arrange a picture of corpses for maximum aesthetic effect. It's scary and hilarious – it reminds me a little of the amazing Colombian mockumentary Vampires of Poverty.
My favorite story in the collection is “Rabbit of the Greenbelt,” which is about two young men who spend the night in a mansion in the Greenbelt, and has a bit of a “Waiting for Godot” feel to it. One of them starts treating the rabbit like a pet and it eventually lays an egg and the men are horrified. It captures the eerie uncertainty of the future in a place that has become completely lawless, and also has a surrealism that turns out not to be completely surreal, which is also what I wanted for my film.
The writing is on the wall
by Sean Lewis
This book is a collection of photographs of reflections scrawled on the walls of porta-potties in Iraq, taken by a soldier during his service in 2004 and 2005. I think porta-potties had a sort of mythical status during the Iraq War because they were the only places where soldiers could spend time alone, and therefore could become places of pleasure and contemplation. The graffiti here includes extremely detailed images of sexual acts, recordings of people coming out, cries for help, and even poetry. Some of the most charming moments are when someone refutes something. In one photo, someone wrote: “I wish I was where I was when I wanted to be here.” Next to it, someone scrawled the words “Lil Bitch.” There are more serious things – we included one phrase in the film: “We, the unwilling, led by the unqualified, die for the ungrateful.” I wouldn't say the photography itself is meaningful or artistic, but it is a stunning collection of documents that together create a cohesive portrait of the era.
