A very promising debut novel that touches on our current world with precision. The narrator's voice was particularly well realised. Full review linked.

Four college boys go on what they think will be a summer wine farm job and find themselves at the dark exploitative roots of the food industry. The author presents us with the blood and horror of this early on and sets this within a literary reference foundation. The diary journal autofiction explores memory, the scenes explore capitalism exploitation in many different forms
Was the fact that these coming of age boys didn't just leave, particularly when they started to die too, and chose to write about it, yet another form of exploitation by the privileged at whatever cost?

A man hits his head and “[t]he next moment he remembered that he remembered, and the moment after that he remembered that he remembered, and so he remained, trapped in an event, a memory, in a compact, anodyne, infinite moment.”

What better place to start than this anecdote: the summary of a short story published by our narrator before the events which form this novel’s cyclical remembering. The traumatic event is told after impact, changing the past and present which cushion it. Munir Hachemi suggests that, just as Borges once asserted that Kafka not only changed the face of literature to come but also of that which came before him, their experience of Synngate, AST and Aire sur l’Adour has a temporal sprawl.

As our narrator remarks: “Telling the truth, then, doesn’t mean exhausting reality (which is infinite) but laying down its reading conditions, those of the outside world, and weaving together all the unsaid things that make a journal tick.” Rather than a grand last sentence which might be subjected to the “interpretive violence” we would bestow on someone’s last words, here trauma is revealed through a monotony of shopping lists, misdirected violence, and chain-smoking.

Framed as a murder mystery, we eagerly await a conclusion to this story which, had we admitted it to ourselves, was solved from the very start.

Four young Spanish friends, recent graduates, decide to go to the South of France one summer to work at the grape harvest, to earn some money but more importantly to gain experience which might prove invaluable for their future writing. There is much about the art of writing and storytelling throughout the text, with many literary allusions, plus digressions into the nature of narrative and memory, all of which makes the whole larger than its parts. Our narrator certainly wants to turn his experience into literature and keeps a diary. The novel is a melding of auto-fiction, a coming-of-age tale and an exploration of insecure, often brutal and usually dangerous and exploitative casual labour, usually done by migrants. That’s a lot to take on in a short book but overall the author holds it altogether, whilst never neglecting the core narrative of the adventures and misadventures of the four young men – who, incidentally, are pretty obnoxious. Not surprisingly the grape harvest doesn’t work out and they find themselves employed in some deeply unpleasant workplaces. Well-constructed and well-paced, the book wears its lessons lightly although the author’s anger and dismay at the exploitative conditions he meets comes across loud and clear, not least when some of his co-workers actually die. Overall I enjoyed the book, finding it convincing about work practices and horrific in some of the descriptions. I couldn’t quite ignore the fact, however, that these were privileged young white men who could in fact have chucked it all in and hurried back home. Perhaps they are just as exploitative as the people who employ them, using others’ experiences to fuel their own ambitions. Nevertheless, yes, overall I enjoyed the book, even if it left me a little uncomfortable.

4,5

This is so many things at once: eco-thriller, road novel, diary, auto-fiction, postmodern literature study, political novella...quote unique and all of it in just 140 pages. I flew through it.

Munir and three friends drive from Madrid to Southern France to spend the summer earning some money picking grapes. But the harvest has failed and instead the young Spaniards end up working in (or better: being exploited by) the horrendous factory farming industry. When colleagues start dying and a multinational biotech corporation seems involved things become even more sinister.

I enjoyed this on many levels. The offhanded yet clever way the story is told, the realistic descriptions, the matter-of-fact style, the interesting references and observations on storytelling.

Very highly recommended!

A fresh and witty exploration of writing and life as a writer. Hachemi has an original style and a will of iron. While it openly goes against the literary grind Hachemi is still able to offer up artistic expression. A wonderful read.

In this disarmingly discursive autofiction, Hachemi leads you down one rabbit hole only to end up in a very different one, his true intent sneaking up on you as the strange and unfamiliar becomes the eerie and grotesque.

To which living things does the title refer? Not only the four young men (I think I can use the phrase ‘new adults’ and all that that implies, and feel okay with that choice) who have travelled from Spain to the south of France for summer work, and not only their fellow campers there for relaxation and respite, ruined only by the young men’s equal parts idleness and the results of their labours; and not only their fellow workers and the opaque staff at the employment agency; but also the animals that the young men find themselves working with, the young men, their colleagues, the animals, the plants, all living cogs in a food production industrial complex. The sad thing, the scary thing, is that no living thing in the entire landscape of remote farms, featureless sheds, immaculate gardens, the Fawlty Towers campsite, the anonymous towns and the stretches of freeway, not one is valued for itself. It’s a purgatory and Munir characterises it to a T, the flat baked geography like an Edward Hopper painting, hiding the horrors in plain sight.

The jobs are Sisyphean, the rewards minuscule, and the punishments cruel, a lot like life. The stories you think you’re reading, that the characters are telling you and telling themselves, those aren’t the whole story, and the whole story might never see the light of day, full of complexities and profundities and pure human error. This book seeps under your skin and leaves a faint untraceable tang, not quite disgust or revulsion, but maybe a forerunner to them both. Read it and shiver.

Four friends from Madrid decide to go on a summer roadtrip to France, to enrich their experiences before continuing with their lives and studies. They hope to work in the grape harvest and have some fun while doing it. Unfortunately, when they arrive at their destination their plans go awry, and they end up being exposed to some of the more unsavoury parts of the poultry and maize production processes, as well as the exploitation of the poor and the needy.
The short book is heavily moralistic, and talks about the psychological impact of being exposed to the horrors they see and experience. The story is short enough to be poignant and powerful, despite the chaotic delivery. I did like the exploration of the dehumanisation of the workers that take part in the poultry value chain, and what exploitation looks like upclose.
That being said, I found the book mediocre at best. There was something awkward in having four privileged (3 of them apparently well off) "experimenting" in being poor, while goofing around and having very little at stake. This was jarring, when confronted with the reality of the real poor people around them. I also struggled with the chaotic writing, and especially the self-obsessed parts where the narrator talks about his own writing and the intent behind it, etc. It just feels immature and irrelevant, and adds almost nothing to the story. Finally, while the words "horror" were used quite a bit by the narrator, the unfortunate reality is that the book is rather tame - there are far more horrific things in the food supply chain, and the things the author describes are kind of banal (to me). There is nothing out of the ordinary here, and it feels too much like something that is intended to shock sheltered and naive Europeans. It didn't resonate with me at all.
I'm not sure I can really recommend it. It's just not good enough, nor insightful enough, to warrant the 2 hours it takes to read. It's also a particularly weak title in the publisher's roster (of those I read).
My thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for providing me with an opportunity to read an early copy of this book in return for an honest review.

I loved the writing style of this short book covering the exploitation of the living (whether the humans in the story to the horrors on the chicken farm). It felt like a stream of consciousness throughout, with a very reflective and self-aware narrator.

I particularly enjoyed how the author interwove commentary on the nature of writing, and all the literary references throughout. The author through such commentary also kept adamantly insisting that the story he was telling was nothing but the truth. However, we learn from early on that his ‘truth’ is based off his own memories of the events, which sets him up as an unreliable narrator where you question whether he is in fact accurately recounting the events as they happened. Has he forgotten any details/ omitted events due to the horrors of his experience? Has the time that has passed since his time in France on the chicken farm altered at all the way he remembers the events as well?

A quick but very thought provoking read!

Thank you to NetGalley and Fitzcarraldo Editions for this ARC!

Translated from Spanish by Julia Sanches, I picked up LIVING THINGS by Munir Hachemi expecting an eco thriller/horror story. It is kind of these things but not quite in the way you’d expect.

It’s a story told from the perspective of Munir when he travels with three friends to the south of France to pick grapes. They are embarking on this venture for the ‘experience’ which Munir sees as a means to build material for his writing endeavors. They arrive to find themselves staying in a derelict campground and taking on increasingly disturbing agricultural jobs for little pay. As reality sets in, the friends slowly change as they become desensitised to the grimness of their surrounds.

What follows is a very self-aware and meta novel presented as a kind of reflection on Munir’s journals from the time, delving into writing and exploration of story-telling and its relationship to the role of memories. It’s also a study of whether a story can ever simply be told or whether it will always be a creation of sorts, influenced by something. It’s never fully clear how much truth our narrator is imparting, or how much detail he is choosing to leave out, particularly as his experiences in industrialised agriculture worsen. His account of working in the chicken farms is truly horrific.

This was a book that doesn’t sit comfortably in any genre and the point of it all is up for debate (at least for me!). Is it autofiction? Is it saying something about the art of writing (with the constant literary references)? Is it a commentary on capitalism and human overconsumption? Probably a mixture of all these things. A LOT of ideas weave in and out of the story.

I can’t say this was an enjoyable reading experience but experimental fiction often isn’t, and that’s no bad thing. This made me think and work across all of its 120 pages. It’s a book to read and re-read. It was creepy, disturbing and very clever - a combination that always leaves me feeling unsettled. And yet I’m keen to read more from Hachemi.

Thank-you to @fitzcarraldoeditions via @netgalley for sharing an advance copy with me. Living Things is out 20 June!

The blurb for this short novel says it is about Spanish graduates who travel to France for the grape harvest only to find themselves working on an industrial chicken farm). It sounds horrific but that certainly doesn't give the whole story.

Written by the character of Munir in journal form the novel tells the story of the four young men's troubles almost from the moment they arrive in France. What sounded like an idyllic post-grad summer in the fields in France quickly turns sour as they learn there will be no call for their services, the grape harvest being so pitiful that year. But yes, there is work, on a chicken farm. Backbreaking, soul-destroying, possibly illegal work but still...

The young men are typical students - they like getting drunk, getting high, not doing the washing (everything stinks of chicken shit), causing mayhem and not paying their bills. And they do all this on a family campsite.

Munir Hachem slews between the horror of the chicken farm (which turns the fictional Munir vegan), the insane antics of the young men back at the campsite and the shocking regularity of deaths that seem to occur amongst fellow workers. They resolve to get to the bottom of the mystery but they are utterly inept - a fact they seem to forget the moment someone lights a joint.

I flew through this book. It's immensely readable and Hachem promises there are no metaphors or allegories. Excellent. I'd love to read more by this author.

Thank you to Netgalley and Fitzcarraldo for the advance review copy.

I thoroughly enjoyed this one. I loved the characterization. I felt like I got a good sense of the main characters and would love to roll one up with them. I'm a vegetarian and have been one for years, but if I wasn't one before I def would be one now after learning about the horror of an industrial chicken farm. Once I started this one, I couldn't stop. I can't wait to read more from the author. Thank you very much for the opportunity to read and review this story.

Not at all what I was expecting from the synopsis. Less an eco thriller and exploration of capitalism and precarious employment, more so ruminating on memory and the art of writing. Very stream of consciousness, telling over showing, and so pretentious. I thought it would be more about exploitation of migrant workers in a capitalistic industrial/agricultural sector but these boys are rich and doing it for fun to be able to have a story and I could care less about that. Also the way the narrator/author told the story was so detached and emotionless it felt almost robotic.

“Living Things” – Munir Hachemi

“In the postmodern age, horror is not a holocaust, but something far more intimate and painstaking. I’ve reread some of my journal entries and get the sense horror may actually be a metaphor for something else.”

My thanks to @netgalley and @fitzcarraldoeditions for my copy of this book, due to be released on 19th June.

A group of four young men travel from Madrid to France to partake in the grape harvest. Like, I imagine, many young workers before them, they arrive to find that the accommodation is a mess and they will instead be working in various other agricultural jobs for long hours and minimal pay. As the work becomes ever more tiring and disgusting, the four friends turn evermore inward, avoiding any talk of their situation and instead becoming desensitized to the world around them.

I was somewhat expecting a kind of eco thriller and borderline horror novel based on what I read going in and the authors this book was compared to – Schweblin’s “Fever Dream '', for example. There is definitely an ecological message here, as Hachemi does not shy away from the grimmest aspects of industrialized agriculture, especially when it comes to animals. Characters end up covered in blood, workers are exploited, and no one comes out looking good. What this book mostly is, however, is a meditation on memory and writing, something that seems very personal to the author (though it seems that certain events in the book come from his experience).

The story is related by the narrator after he has read his old journals from the time, filling in gaps or adding new ruminations, and it seems that the act of forgetting is often very deliberate, the author avoiding some details and expressly telling the reader not to look for metaphor or imagery in his words. The book frequently cites other literature and authors, including most of the Latin American big hitters, including a list of aphorisms from writers and chapter titles directly taken from various literary works. It’s all quite self-aware and knowing, which might not suit everyone, but I found it constantly engaging.

In my opinion, quite the interesting read, so long as you go in expecting Bolaño and not Enriquez.

What does keeping or not keeping a journal mean? Do things only happen because we write about them? Or do we limit the things that happen by writing them down? Because writing in itself is 'limiting' It can never encompass the 'all'. Angles change, light changes, the words left behind say a lot by their absence and how can we transmit all that?

Transmitting, sharing, showing, being a witness that is why we write.

Hachemi lays down the horrific bare truth for us here.

"because horror is a soft, sticky thing - never effusive, never a bang."

Can he transmit the horror of this truth? He tries and does succeed. Did he 'transmit' the 'all' we can never say...............

"storytelling - I realize now that G was right - is something we do on instinct while the world falls to pieces around us."

Horror question though - If we do take onboard the truth that Hachemi writes about, what are we going to do about it????????????????

An ARC kindly provided by author/publisher via Netgalley.

"I have a new understanding of Piglia’s famous question: how to narrate the horror of real events?"


I'm not sure enjoyable is the word to use when referring to my experience reading this book, but I certainly had a great time. It's a claustrophobic novel about four Spanish friends trying to make some money working for an agency in France under the oppressive summer heat. They expect to be picking grapes but instead end up performing various roles at chicken and duck factory farms, living on a camping site in an isolated town.

At its core this book is about memory, writing, and communication, as the friends refuse to really talk to each other about the work they're doing, and we are constantly reminded that our narrator with a bad memory is telling us what happened based on his recollection of his journal entries, with a slightly suspicious defensiveness about the fact that he's just "telling us what happened". I would also consider this to fall within the subgenre of ecofiction, with commentary of the horrors of factory farming and monopolised genetically modified crop industries.

I can understand why some of the marketing is leaning into the horror aspects, both because of the above as well as several plot points. That the narrator has the same name and description as the author also brings a certain creepiness to it as you wonder how much is fictional (in an interview Munir talks about this being based on true events). It's certainly very tense at times though I do think anyone picking this up solely in search of horror may end up disappointed. It's heavily literary and more of an exploration of story-telling and how it connects to reality and memory.

This was very good and also my second read translated by Julia Sanches in as many weeks. Definitely one of those books I'll keep thinking back to, and can see myself rereading.

I'm amazed that this is Munir Hachemi's literary debut, as the quality is unbeatable for a first novel. The format is particularly interesting, and I eagerly look forward to reading more from Hachemi. It was a pleasure to read this book.

Out 19th of June!

Living things was a great book that combined multiple things that I like to read about; writing, a critique of capatalism, and realistic depictions of animal farming. I think it is important to see the ways we treat animals depicted in literature. This book did a good job of showing how horribly animals are treated and how it links to capatalism.

This book follows four recent graduates that travel from Spain to France to work in the grape harvest, however when they arrive they realise that they are too early and end up having to work on a chicken farm. From there, we see them having to complete gruelling work for little return.

In the book, Munir discusses his thoughts on writing throughout the book, and we also see journal entries, which I love to see in books! The writing style was really interesting, and it really felt like we were being told a story.

I think this book would interest you if you like literary, translated, or weird fiction. It was a quick and thought proviking read.

Thank you to @netgalley and @FitzcarraldoEditions for the digital ARC in exchange for an honest review!

Published 19 June 2024. This short Fitzcarraldo novel could almost be a novel about writing - there are so many references to different authors and the narrator is constantly reminding us that he is telling us a story based upon his memories - his journal. Our narrator, Munir, is a graduate and with three friends he has left Madrid to travel to France for the grape harvest. But things go wrong. The campsite is a nightmare - the caravan has only 2 beds and the other residents spend all their time complaining about the four boys - although with the boys behaviour, I think I would have complained too. When they sign on at the agency, they find that there is no grape harvest and they are sent to a type of industrial farm to catch and vaccinate chickens. Think battery farms although they cannot surely be as awful as this place - can they? They are also sent to another unit where they seem to be fertilizing crops. The work is horrific and depressing and the four gradually become more and more depressed. They also become convinced that there is something sinister going on as people they work with seem to be dying. Munir is constantly telling us that he is sharing his truth with us, but you wonder whether the memories that he draws upon are accurate. Is he reliable? Is is actually telling us the truth or has he deliberately left things out because they are just too awful and he has 'forgotten' about them. I read somewhere that is is literary horror, but for me the horror wasn't really there. What was interesting for me was the way the character contemplated writing, in particular short story writing and the way he references Hemingway's iceberg theory that deeper meaning in a short story should not be evident on the surface. Maybe that is what Munir is doing to us here, he is letting us find the deeper meaning hidden below.

"Living Things" follows four friends embarking on a journey from Madrid to southern France to work in grape harvesting. However, their expectations are shattered upon arrival at a nightmarish campsite, where they're coerced into grueling tasks at an industrial farm, leading to a gradual descent into despair and desensitization.

The novel expertly intertwines literary references with discussions on narrative construction, fostering a sense of mistrust through its protagonist's insistence on sharing truth over fabrication. The prologue, employing metafictional elements, sets a chilling tone, prompting contemplation on the untold horrors lurking beneath the surface.

While the book excels in self-awareness and metafiction, it falls short in delivering expected horror elements, favoring exploration of writing dynamics and linguistic gaps. Despite this, it offers a compelling narrative ripe for analysis through the lens of literary theory.

Recommended for enthusiasts of Latin American classics like Borges and Cortázar, "Living Things" leans more towards literary exploration than conventional horror, warranting appreciation for its ambitious fusion of genres. However, a stronger emphasis on horror could have elevated its impact significantly.

Rating at 4.5 stars, this book was a highly anticipated read for me, offering a meticulously crafted narrative. It delves into the intricacies of storytelling, memory, and the correlation between real-life horrors and their fictional counterparts.

Thank you to NetGalley & Fitzcarraldo Editions for the e-arc.