Writing a review of Refugee Tales is a bit awkward: if not the best, this is definitely the most important book I have read this year. I will object to some of the texts, as the form selected by some of the authors comes in the way of the story they want to relay. But this cannot be held against the book, which is more a project than a book, as laid out by the excellent Afterwords.
Actually, like it or not, there is something to be said regarding the selected forms. That so many authors resorted to poetry or poetic prose is, of course, down to the number of poets among them. But it is also an attempt at finding a language which can translate the horrific stories of the witnesses into a tale for the middle-class reader - a language that cuts through the isolating layer of our comfort and reaches to our emotions. Poetry is not always successful. When it is though, it forces our attention. The words stick.
"Why should I be treated as stranger, as refugee
in the country I was born, barricaded in
my bank, while demonstrators outside shout blasphemy,
hundreds, thousands fed with propaganda poison."
Though many, many tales compose the incomplete kaleidoscope of the refugee situation in the UK (the 14-year-old boy floating to his death in the Mediterranean, the Calais-to-Dover lorry driver, the 14-year-old boy living in European airport detention centers, the powerless friends, the 63-year-old BBC journalist sent to jail after 28 years living in Croydon, the interpreter, the 8 and 7-year-old taken away from their house in Bradford in the middle of the night by the police, the powerless lawyer, ...) the last text, from which the above lines are extracted, has a special resonance. It talks about a country, Sudan, where Copts and Muslims used to live in harmony until a new government ripped the society apart
"Like the two faiths that can't
be divided by politicians completely corrupted,
splitting the country like an open wound: they insert
a lie and there's Christians abducted."