The Lord by Soraya Antonius is a sharp, smart, bitterly funny, and, at times, brutal anti-colonial novel. I have never read anything like this, and it has leapt to the top of my best books list.
A reporter comes to Lebanon in the 1980s hoping to find information about a Palestinian magician, Tareq, from the 1930s, whose performances became increasingly subversive. Antonius's narrative shifts back in time and we hear from a variety of characters involved in Tareq's fate: an English teacher who taught young Tareq, a journalist who sees his early performances, a British security chief who pegs Tareq as dangerous to the British empire as well as Tareq's mother, a young married Arab woman Tareq helped, and other British authorities.
Each section starts abruptly without much context, making the reading a bit slow going until I got used to her style. Yet I love what she writes-- I spent a lot of time rereading her sentences to enjoy their artistry.
Antonius tells a relatively simple story that is complicated by a variety of characters and themes: the arrogance of the British, the inhumanity of the colonial project, and the harsh life of Palestinian women. Then there is Tareq himself - who is he really? The dry wells that suddenly produce water, the reporter's broken ribs that turn out to be only bruised, the "emperor has no clothes" moment at the British holiday party, is it all actual magic or simply coincidence and a need to explain the unexpected?
Antonius doesn't offer answers, but her observations of the British colonial system are furious and funny in a bleak, bitter way. Reading this felt like watching a performer navigate a high wire; I held my breath at times, wondering if she could pull it off. The end, in particular, could have gone so wrong, but honestly, it is absolutely perfect for the story she tells.
This is my favorite fiction book of the year.