کتاب Fortune Told in Blood

کتاب Fortune Told in Blood داستانی از داود غفارزادگان است که محمدرضا قانون پرور آن را به انگلیسی ترجمه و انتشارات سوره مهر منتشرش کرده است. این داستان درباره جنگ ایران و عراق است اما آنچه آن را جذاب می‌کند، این است که روایت را از زبان یک سرباز عراقی می‌خوانید.

درباره کتاب Fortune Told in Blood 

داود غفارزادگان در کتاب Fortune Told in Blood (فال خون) داستان را درباره جنگ نوشته است. داستانی که متفاوت از تمام روایت‌هایی است که تا به حال از جنگ گفته‌اند.

کتاب Fortune Told in Blood از زبان سربازی عراقی روایت می‌شود که همراه با ارشد خود، برای شناسایی اجساد به منطقه‌ای در غرب ایران اعزام شده است. او در منطقه هور از ترس خودش از مرگ می‌گوید و داستانی را رقم می‌زند که با پایان غافلگیر کننده‌اش شما را میخکوب می‌کند. داستانی که به زوایای زندگی شخصی و افکار افرادی می‌پردازد که گرفتار جنگ هستند. 

در نقد «کتاب ماه ادبیات، شماره ۱۴۶» بر این اثر اینطور نوشته‌اند: «فال خون به دلیل نگاه ویژه و جدید به مقوله جنگ ایران و عراق، به جای پرداخت مستقیم به درگیری‌ها و مسائل جنگ بر روی موقعیت فردی انسان درحال جنگ و جایگاه او در صحنه‌های نبرد اشاره دارد.»

کتاب Fortune Told in Blood را به چه کسانی پیشنهاد می‌کنیم 

خواندن کتاب Fortune Told in Blood را به تمام علاقه‌مندان به داستان‌ها و رمان‌هایی با موضوع جنگ پیشنهاد می‌کنیم.

بخشی از کتاب Fortune Told in Blood

He was looking back, his legs trembling, thinking that death here would be awful: dizziness, dry mouth, and the cold sweat that runs down your spine.

How could the Lieutenant jump around on the rocks so happy and vibrant? Every few steps that he took, he would stop and jokingly shout, "Come on, come on...," with a shrill, happy childish voice and pink lips through which you could see his breath in the cold.

The Lieutenant's voice made him nervous. He did not know why. Perhaps because he himself was afraid of heights and could see that the Lieutenant was not afraid at all. Perhaps all this time he had become accustomed to seeing the skull under the skin on the heads of everyone and seeing that all this vitality, enthusiasm, and life would not last more than a few days, and that it would turn into cold rotting flesh collecting all sorts of bugs and maggots.

All he could think about was death--it had become a habit for him--and if he were not so self-conscious in the presence of the Lieutenant, he would have dropped to the ground all the junk that they had loaded on him and stuffed his fingers into his ears not to have to hear the overpowering echo of the laughter of death from the bottom of the valley.

The higher he went the more difficult it was to negotiate the climb. He slipped on the snow, took a fleeting look behind him, and trembled to the core in fear. Now he was farther away from the Lieutenant, who was standing in the middle of the snow his arms akimbo, looking around.

He took several quick steps and pulled himself up a slippery frozen rock. He should not look back. The Lieutenant bent over, picked up a fistful of snow, and threw it at him. The snowball hit him right on his shoulder strap. He laughed in response to the Lieutenant's playfulness. He did not know what his reaction should be. He had never been on close terms with a superior or engaged in the horse play common among soldiers.

It was the first time that he had met the Lieutenant and had come on an assignment with him. He might have seen him before many times, but nothing special had happened to make him remember his face very well.

These were his instructions: Accompany the Lieutenant up the mountain for observation.