Living Things starts with a brief discursion about short stories and writing, which concludes "this text is only a book inasmuch as everything is a book. That's it. There is no intent, just storytelling. Embellishment degree zero." After this, a summer trip of four Spanish young men to France to pick grapes gradually becomes more unnerving, as they end up working on disturbing chicken farms and living on an increasingly threatening campsite, as the book threatens to turn into a slightly warped thriller.. As a short novel, it packs a lot in, including a whole set of literary allusions. Of course, the suggested lack of embellishment is a device - diary entries are ordered, embellished and comments on, but it does get at some of the apparent artlessness of the book and its inbuilt metacommentary (signalled by its ambiguous title). As the narrator writes at the end "storytelling... is something we do on instinct wile the world falls to pieces around us." The book's ending side-steps this falling apart, which may disappoint some readers, but it is definitely worth looking out for further translations of Hachemi's work..

An incredibly constructed book which explores not only the nature of writing and its relationship to memory, but the connection between the horrors of reality and how we experience and tell them as a story. I loved the literary references and discussions on what makes a story, and how the constant insistence that Munir was not creating but telling created a sense of mistrust and unreliability through the whole book. The claustrophobia and horror I felt could have been dialled up to 11 and this is what the book was just missing for me.

"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.