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Tropique de la violence
« Ne t’endors pas, ne te repose pas, ne ferme pas les yeux, ce n’est pas terminé. Ils te cherchent. Tu entends ce bruit, on dirait le roulement des barriques vides, on dirait le tonnerre en janvier mais tu te trompes si tu crois que c’est ça. Écoute mon pays qui gronde, écoute la colère qui rampe et qui rappe jusqu’à nous. Tu entends cette musique, tu sens la braise contre ton visage balafré ? Ils viennent pour toi . »
Tropique de la violence est une plongée dans l’enfer d’une jeunesse livrée à elle-même sur l’île française de Mayotte, dans l’océan Indien. Dans ce pays magnifique, sauvage et au bord du chaos, cinq destins vont se croiser et nous révéler la violence de leur quotidien.
Tropique de la violence est une plongée dans l’enfer d’une jeunesse livrée à elle-même sur l’île française de Mayotte, dans l’océan Indien. Dans ce pays magnifique, sauvage et au bord du chaos, cinq destins vont se croiser et nous révéler la violence de leur quotidien.
175 pages, Hardcover
First published August 25, 2016
63 people are currently reading
1645 people want to read
About the author
Nathacha Appanah
16 books162 followersSee also: Nathacha Appanah-Mouriquand
Nathacha Devi Pathareddy Appanah is a Mauritian-French author. She comes from a traditional Indian family.
She spent most of her teenage years in Mauritius and also worked as a journalist/columnist at Le Mauricien and Week-End Scope before emigrating to France.
Since 1998, Nathacha Appanah is well-known as an active writer. Her first book Les Rochers de Poudre d'Or (published by Éditions Gallimard) received the " Prix du Livre RFO". The book was based on the arrival of Indian immigrants in Mauritius.
She also wrote two other books Blue Bay Palace and La Noce d'Anna which also received some prizes for best book in some regional festivals in France.
In 2007, she released her fourth book " Le Dernier Frère " Ed de L'Olivier. This book won the Prix FNAC.
Nathacha Devi Pathareddy Appanah is a Mauritian-French author. She comes from a traditional Indian family.
She spent most of her teenage years in Mauritius and also worked as a journalist/columnist at Le Mauricien and Week-End Scope before emigrating to France.
Since 1998, Nathacha Appanah is well-known as an active writer. Her first book Les Rochers de Poudre d'Or (published by Éditions Gallimard) received the " Prix du Livre RFO". The book was based on the arrival of Indian immigrants in Mauritius.
She also wrote two other books Blue Bay Palace and La Noce d'Anna which also received some prizes for best book in some regional festivals in France.
In 2007, she released her fourth book " Le Dernier Frère " Ed de L'Olivier. This book won the Prix FNAC.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 209 reviews
April 29, 2022
This was not the kind of book I would normally read but, to be honest—and despite the book's title—I didn't realize it would be literally so violent. I was very surprised at the amount and severity of the violence, but I was already about 60% in when it really ramped up, so I just quickly sped through the balance. It was horrifying, extremely ugly, and it included the one thing I absolutely abhor and cannot tolerate. At that point, the book was completely ruined for me.
The writing was very good, the story was good, but it could have been better. Authors: Why must you harm your fictional animals? Do you think it somehow elevates your work? I assure you, it does not, and in my opinion, it does quite the opposite. It's unnecessary. And if, for some odd reason, you feel it's an integral part of your story, then... what can I say?🙄 But I beg you... please don't describe it!!
2 stars and I cannot recommend.
The writing was very good, the story was good, but it could have been better. Authors: Why must you harm your fictional animals? Do you think it somehow elevates your work? I assure you, it does not, and in my opinion, it does quite the opposite. It's unnecessary. And if, for some odd reason, you feel it's an integral part of your story, then... what can I say?🙄 But I beg you... please don't describe it!!
2 stars and I cannot recommend.
June 30, 2020
There are places in this world that are mostly unheard of. Mayotte, in the Comoros islands in the Mozambique Channel, is one of them. Mayotte, the setting of this novel, is a "departement" of France. It consists of two islands, Grande-Terre and Petite-Terre. Kwassa-kwassas, a type of ferry, are continually bringing refugees and immigrants to Mayotte, and the island holds about 20,000 citizens and 20,000 illegals. Many of the illegals are basically children or teenagers who live in gangs or on the street. Poverty runs rampant as do petty and violent crimes.
Marie, a white nurse working in a Mayotte hospital is 24 years old when the narrative begins. At 26, she meets Cham, also a nurse and black. They marry shortly after meeting. Marie is head over heels in love with Cham who is "more handsome every day, more unreal every day in that he belongs to me".
Marie is desperate to have a child. She sees children all over the island, many "born without anyone even wanting them, while I'm praying, begging". Marie turns thirty-one and Cham leaves her for another woman, ostensibly one who is fertile and will bear him children.
One evening, when she is thirty-three and working in the hospital, a swaddled infant is offered to Marie. He is black and has one dark eye and one green eye and his mother says he is the baby of the djinn, and will bring bad luck because of his differing eye colors. Marie gratefully takes him and raises him as her own. She names him Moise.
Marie dotes on Moise and sends him to a private French school so that he can get a fine education. She switches her work schedule around so she can spend more time with Moise. They live in a nice little house but "not far from us there are corrugated iron huts, bangas where illegal immigrants live and we double-lock our house, put iron grilles over the windows and padlocks on our gate". Marie lives an isolated life without friends but Moise is enough for her. Every night she reads to him from 'The Boy and the River', his favorite book.
When Moise is 14 Marie dies suddenly from a brain aneurysm and Moise is left with no where to go. He ends up homeless and becomes part of a gang that is violent and treats one another horrifically at times. It is a year after Marie's death and the narrative takes a huge shift. Moise is 15, in a jail cell, and has told the police he has killed someone. "This island has turned me into a killer."
This short novel carries quite a punch and is rich in language and story. It deals primarily with the horrors that Moise faces once he is in his gang. There is Bruce, head of the gang, in a place they call Gaza, "Bruce with his barbarian's heart and his sick brain and his serpent's tongue. Bruce, who did that to me . . ."
Moise, who still has a moral compass, is placed in situations so horrible and violent that he dissociates, the only way his psyche can bear its experiences. Describing "Mayotte's Gaza", he says he knows, "without ever having travelled, that it's the smell of all the ghettos in the world. The sour urine on the street corners, ancient shit in the gutters". "The constant noise that drowns out all thoughts, all memories, all dreams." "Every day is the same as the last. Fear, hunger, walking, sleep, hunger, fear, walking sleep."
How Moise navigates his life and the trauma he repeatedly undergoes is the theme of this wonderful novel. The gang that once seemed exciting to him becomes his horror. He thinks that he, himself, is a shameful being, not wanted by his mother and cursed by a Djinn. Shame follows him everywhere except his dreams. It is only there that he can be free and change reality into something beautiful.
Marie, a white nurse working in a Mayotte hospital is 24 years old when the narrative begins. At 26, she meets Cham, also a nurse and black. They marry shortly after meeting. Marie is head over heels in love with Cham who is "more handsome every day, more unreal every day in that he belongs to me".
Marie is desperate to have a child. She sees children all over the island, many "born without anyone even wanting them, while I'm praying, begging". Marie turns thirty-one and Cham leaves her for another woman, ostensibly one who is fertile and will bear him children.
One evening, when she is thirty-three and working in the hospital, a swaddled infant is offered to Marie. He is black and has one dark eye and one green eye and his mother says he is the baby of the djinn, and will bring bad luck because of his differing eye colors. Marie gratefully takes him and raises him as her own. She names him Moise.
Marie dotes on Moise and sends him to a private French school so that he can get a fine education. She switches her work schedule around so she can spend more time with Moise. They live in a nice little house but "not far from us there are corrugated iron huts, bangas where illegal immigrants live and we double-lock our house, put iron grilles over the windows and padlocks on our gate". Marie lives an isolated life without friends but Moise is enough for her. Every night she reads to him from 'The Boy and the River', his favorite book.
When Moise is 14 Marie dies suddenly from a brain aneurysm and Moise is left with no where to go. He ends up homeless and becomes part of a gang that is violent and treats one another horrifically at times. It is a year after Marie's death and the narrative takes a huge shift. Moise is 15, in a jail cell, and has told the police he has killed someone. "This island has turned me into a killer."
This short novel carries quite a punch and is rich in language and story. It deals primarily with the horrors that Moise faces once he is in his gang. There is Bruce, head of the gang, in a place they call Gaza, "Bruce with his barbarian's heart and his sick brain and his serpent's tongue. Bruce, who did that to me . . ."
Moise, who still has a moral compass, is placed in situations so horrible and violent that he dissociates, the only way his psyche can bear its experiences. Describing "Mayotte's Gaza", he says he knows, "without ever having travelled, that it's the smell of all the ghettos in the world. The sour urine on the street corners, ancient shit in the gutters". "The constant noise that drowns out all thoughts, all memories, all dreams." "Every day is the same as the last. Fear, hunger, walking, sleep, hunger, fear, walking sleep."
How Moise navigates his life and the trauma he repeatedly undergoes is the theme of this wonderful novel. The gang that once seemed exciting to him becomes his horror. He thinks that he, himself, is a shameful being, not wanted by his mother and cursed by a Djinn. Shame follows him everywhere except his dreams. It is only there that he can be free and change reality into something beautiful.
September 13, 2021
J'ai rarement lu quelque chose d'aussi violent, heureusement que l'écriture de Nathacha Appanah vient contrebalancer ce qui deviendrait presque insupportable à lire. C'est assez mémorable, et ça remet les idées en place bien comme il faut.
August 22, 2024
This book made me feel sick; it's also like poetry. One of the most violent things I've read, and probably one of the most magnificent, too. I had no idea Mayotte existed, a French island in the Indian Ocean in the midst of a refugee crisis (Appanah's novel was another stunning, moving find from the Strand Bookstore's semi-secret $3 ARC shelves)
June 13, 2019
Tropique de la violence raconte Mayotte, département français livré à lui-même. Sa pauvreté écrasante, sa délinquance qui gangrène les villes, et puis le désespoir de ses jeunes.
Marie a adopté un bébé aux yeux vairons, échoué sur l'île avec sa mère à bord d'un kwassa-kwassa comorien. Le petit Moïse grandit, et découvre à l'orée de l'adolescence le destin désespéré de beaucoup de mahorais.
Le récit est polyphonique, on suit les points de vue de plusieurs protagonistes et la chronologie est habilement éparpillée pour dévoiler peu à peu l'intrigue. C'est bien écrit, presque académique, sans personnalité si j'étais dure. J'ai souvent trouvé que l'autrice alignait des poncifs, soignés, mais des poncifs quand même. Si l'histoire est très dure, ça m'a quand même empêché de m'attacher aux personnages. C'est vraiment un ressenti personnel lié à mes préférences d'écriture, la fin du roman est mémorable.
Ça reste une plongée édifiante dans la réalité loin des cocotiers des habitants de Mayotte. Je ne connaissais pas cette réalité et réaliser que ça se passe en France, ça te remet les idées en place.
Marie a adopté un bébé aux yeux vairons, échoué sur l'île avec sa mère à bord d'un kwassa-kwassa comorien. Le petit Moïse grandit, et découvre à l'orée de l'adolescence le destin désespéré de beaucoup de mahorais.
Le récit est polyphonique, on suit les points de vue de plusieurs protagonistes et la chronologie est habilement éparpillée pour dévoiler peu à peu l'intrigue. C'est bien écrit, presque académique, sans personnalité si j'étais dure. J'ai souvent trouvé que l'autrice alignait des poncifs, soignés, mais des poncifs quand même. Si l'histoire est très dure, ça m'a quand même empêché de m'attacher aux personnages. C'est vraiment un ressenti personnel lié à mes préférences d'écriture, la fin du roman est mémorable.
Ça reste une plongée édifiante dans la réalité loin des cocotiers des habitants de Mayotte. Je ne connaissais pas cette réalité et réaliser que ça se passe en France, ça te remet les idées en place.
January 13, 2023
Haletant, âpre, tranchant. Incandescent et poétique, à l'image du pays dans lequel il se déroule. « Tropique de la violence » est un roman dont on ne sort pas indemne. Nathacha Appanah nous y emmène à Mayotte, loin des cartes postales, plus précisément à Kaweni, un bidonville qu'on surnomme « Gaza ». On y part à la rencontre d'adolescents à peine sortis de l'enfance, aux visages balafrés et aux destins brisés.
Ce qui m'a particulièrement touchée dans ce roman, outre la prose à couper le souffle et les thèmes humanitaires qu'il soulève, c'est qu'il s'attaque à l'enfance volée. L'injustice du destin qui tient parfois à peu de choses est parfaitement illustrée par les personnages de Moïse et de Bruce, si semblables et si différents.
Je vous laisse les découvrir, ainsi que les autres voix qui s'entremêlent dans ce récit, par vous-même et faire à votre tour cette expérience de lecture immersive et bouleversante.
Gros coup de cœur. ❤️
Ce qui m'a particulièrement touchée dans ce roman, outre la prose à couper le souffle et les thèmes humanitaires qu'il soulève, c'est qu'il s'attaque à l'enfance volée. L'injustice du destin qui tient parfois à peu de choses est parfaitement illustrée par les personnages de Moïse et de Bruce, si semblables et si différents.
Je vous laisse les découvrir, ainsi que les autres voix qui s'entremêlent dans ce récit, par vous-même et faire à votre tour cette expérience de lecture immersive et bouleversante.
Gros coup de cœur. ❤️
February 12, 2021
A beautifully written, fast-paced plot with a strong sense of place, except, as a character explains somewhere, the Mayotte ghetto called Gaza could be in Gaza City, or the favela, the banlieu, or Behind the Beautiful Forevers, and so, by the end, it still zoomed along but predictably, in a way we've seen before in these books. But if you were to read just one about street children snared in violent gangs, this is good: packed and sensual.
February 1, 2025
Un livre d’une violence presque insoutenable, mais qui, malheureusement, est nécessaire pour dénoncer les conditions de vie atroces dans lesquelles vivent les jeunes à Mayotte.
On se retrouve plongés dans les bidonvilles de cette île dont on n’entend parler seulement lorsque des catastrophes naturelles y ont lieu, en oubliant presque que des adolescents vivent dans des conditions insalubres dans un département dit français.
Il est si facile de parler des pays « sous développés » de parler des pays dans lesquels la pauvreté est immense, mais avant de parler des autres pays, ne devrions-nous pas parler de notre propre pays ? Ne devrions-nous pas se sentir concernés et révoltés que des citoyens français vivent dans des bidonvilles, sans repère, sans famille, sans nourriture et sans eau potable ? Que des personnes vivant sur un territoire français soient complètement oubliés et negligés, au point où ils ne savent même plus comment vivre ?
On parle très souvent de la colonisation du 20eme siècle, en Algérie, en Afrique de l’Ouest, en Indochine, mais si il est important de parler de cette colonisation passée, je pense qu’il est encore plus nécessaire de dénoncer cette colonisation actuelle qui a lieu sous nos yeux, par notre gouvernement. Ce gouvernement français qui profite de ce territoire d’outre mer mais qui laisse ses habitants à l’abandon, sans aucune perspective d’avenir, créant des jeunes se terrant dans la violence, la cruauté et la barbarie, car ils n’ont plus aucune raison de vivre décemment.
Ce roman m’a vraiment retourné le cœur, il m’a mis extrêmement mal à l’aise par moment de par la dureté de ses scènes, mais c’est un livre d’une grande beauté avec une magnifique plume. J’ai très envie de lire les autres livres de cette autrice!
On se retrouve plongés dans les bidonvilles de cette île dont on n’entend parler seulement lorsque des catastrophes naturelles y ont lieu, en oubliant presque que des adolescents vivent dans des conditions insalubres dans un département dit français.
Il est si facile de parler des pays « sous développés » de parler des pays dans lesquels la pauvreté est immense, mais avant de parler des autres pays, ne devrions-nous pas parler de notre propre pays ? Ne devrions-nous pas se sentir concernés et révoltés que des citoyens français vivent dans des bidonvilles, sans repère, sans famille, sans nourriture et sans eau potable ? Que des personnes vivant sur un territoire français soient complètement oubliés et negligés, au point où ils ne savent même plus comment vivre ?
On parle très souvent de la colonisation du 20eme siècle, en Algérie, en Afrique de l’Ouest, en Indochine, mais si il est important de parler de cette colonisation passée, je pense qu’il est encore plus nécessaire de dénoncer cette colonisation actuelle qui a lieu sous nos yeux, par notre gouvernement. Ce gouvernement français qui profite de ce territoire d’outre mer mais qui laisse ses habitants à l’abandon, sans aucune perspective d’avenir, créant des jeunes se terrant dans la violence, la cruauté et la barbarie, car ils n’ont plus aucune raison de vivre décemment.
Ce roman m’a vraiment retourné le cœur, il m’a mis extrêmement mal à l’aise par moment de par la dureté de ses scènes, mais c’est un livre d’une grande beauté avec une magnifique plume. J’ai très envie de lire les autres livres de cette autrice!
May 29, 2020
There's an attractive setting for this novella by Mauritian-French author, Appanah; the Comoros islands in the Indian Ocean. In 1975 its three neighbours declared independence, but Mayotte voted to remain part of France, and since has encountered much racial tension.
A French nurse adopts the son of an illegal immigrant who believes he is possessed because of his different coloured eyes. In his adolescence his adoptive mother dies suddenly, and Moïse is unwittingly drawn to the local shanty town and its impoverished gangs of teenagers, themselves immigrants from other islands traumatised by lack of care, drug abuse and boredom.
Appanah presents the dark side of a tropical paradise, a far-flung piece of France where years of untolerance have led to a large refugee population, riots and unrest.
A French nurse adopts the son of an illegal immigrant who believes he is possessed because of his different coloured eyes. In his adolescence his adoptive mother dies suddenly, and Moïse is unwittingly drawn to the local shanty town and its impoverished gangs of teenagers, themselves immigrants from other islands traumatised by lack of care, drug abuse and boredom.
Appanah presents the dark side of a tropical paradise, a far-flung piece of France where years of untolerance have led to a large refugee population, riots and unrest.
December 16, 2022
recimo da tak 2,5 ocena
Malo sem brala reviewe za to knjigo in ugotovila, da sem jaz očitno zelo drugače dojemala to knjigo kot drugi. Pišejo, da je dobro napisano in da je "bogat jezik". Mogoče res je v francoščini, ampak ni se dobro preneslo v slovenščino.
Vem da se knjigi reče Povratnik nasilja, ampak ta knjiga me je z enimi stvarmi kar travmatizirala. Na eni točki je brez razloga zelo kruto umorjen pes, kar tak, halo, zakaj bi to sploh vključil v knjigo (še posebej ker sploh ni plot device). Notri je tudi scena kjer trije tipi posilijo enega kot kazen, ker jih ni ubogal.
Današnji dan res ni bil dober dan za to knjigo, ker me je še bolj v spiraliziranje poslala.
Malo sem brala reviewe za to knjigo in ugotovila, da sem jaz očitno zelo drugače dojemala to knjigo kot drugi. Pišejo, da je dobro napisano in da je "bogat jezik". Mogoče res je v francoščini, ampak ni se dobro preneslo v slovenščino.
Vem da se knjigi reče Povratnik nasilja, ampak ta knjiga me je z enimi stvarmi kar travmatizirala. Na eni točki je brez razloga zelo kruto umorjen pes, kar tak, halo, zakaj bi to sploh vključil v knjigo (še posebej ker sploh ni plot device). Notri je tudi scena kjer trije tipi posilijo enega kot kazen, ker jih ni ubogal.
Današnji dan res ni bil dober dan za to knjigo, ker me je še bolj v spiraliziranje poslala.
January 7, 2025
Beaucoup trop violent et triste si c'est vraiment ce qui se passe au quotidien a Mayotte. Je donne 4 étoiles car c'est très bien écrit.
Ce n'est pas le genre de livre que je lis d'habitude mais pour 2025 je veux lire plus de livres par des auteurs mauricien.
Ce n'est pas le genre de livre que je lis d'habitude mais pour 2025 je veux lire plus de livres par des auteurs mauricien.
November 13, 2025
Heartbreakingly beautiful
February 1, 2022
I read this book as part of my quest to read a book written by an author from every country in the world. The author of this book is from Mauritius.
Mauritius is an island nation in the Indian Ocean off the coast of East Africa. It includes the main island (also called Mauritius), as well as Rodrigues, Agaléga, and St. Brandon. These islands lie to the east of the island of Madagascar.
The story is set on the island of Mayotte (which is not a part of Mauritius). Mayotte is a part of the Comoros archipelago, which was a French colony until 1975 when it declared independence. Mayotte opted to remain part of France – In 2011, it was declared as an overseas department/region and single territorial collectivity of France. This island lies to the northwest of Madagascar.
This novel is based on the current reality of the migratory problems on Mayotte. Refugees from the Comoros islands, namely Anjouan in this story, make the dangerous trip in kwassa-kwassas, frail, rickety vessels, to Mayotte, in search of French citizenship. This has led to Mayotte being overrun by a number of immigrant children, who are left behind when their parents are deported back to their home countries.
In a 2016 article in the French magazine, L’Express, the author says, “I lived in Mayotte from 2008 to 2010 and had been struck by the number of children in the streets. They were not abandoned, they were not the round (sic) they were playing happily on every street corner, some were even occasionally at school and in the evening, they found a roof."
“Many of them were alone. Their parents had been taken back to the border and had left them in Mayotte, thinking of offering them better prospects for the future, and in the hope of returning too.” “Other (children) made the crossing alone between Anjouan, the nearest island of the Comoros, and Mayotte . Some have also experienced difficult family situations and left home. Not everything can be explained by migratory pressure alone. There are drugs, abyssal unemployment, the idleness of youth and this terrible feeling of failure. We can feel it, that feeling. These young people sitting on the side of the road during the day, wondering what to do now since they have already knocked on all the doors.”
In the story, Marie is a young, white nurse from France, who comes to the island to escape the mountains and cold of France. She meets and marries a black man, Chamsidine. Although she desperately wants a child, she is unable to get pregnant and they divorce. One night, a kwassa-kwassa arrives from Anjouan. A very young, beautiful woman shows Marie her newborn baby, born with a green eye and a black eye. She feels that the baby is the devil, djinn. She leaves Marie with the baby and Marie decides to raise the boy as her own.
This boy, Moise, is raised as a privileged French boy. He attends a private school. At 14, Marie tells her son the truth of his origins and he becomes angry. Soon after, Marie has a brain aneurysm and dies in her house, in front of Moise. Unsure what to do, Moise leaves and starts living in the streets. He begins to hang out with the street boys who live in ‘Gaza’. This is the name of the slums on Mayotte, a community that lives in shacks. He meets a teen named ‘Bruce’, who is the unofficial ‘king’ of the ghetto. These boys do not attend school – they steal to obtain their food.
This novel continues to describe Moise and his experiences with the street boys. The author often describes the beauty of the island and the ocean – contrasting it with the ugliness of what is happening with its citizens.
The book’s timeline is non-linear – it jumps forward and backward in time and it switches between narrators in each chapter. I don’t know if this adds to the story. It does make the story feel more chaotic – maybe that was the intent of the author.
Mauritius is an island nation in the Indian Ocean off the coast of East Africa. It includes the main island (also called Mauritius), as well as Rodrigues, Agaléga, and St. Brandon. These islands lie to the east of the island of Madagascar.
The story is set on the island of Mayotte (which is not a part of Mauritius). Mayotte is a part of the Comoros archipelago, which was a French colony until 1975 when it declared independence. Mayotte opted to remain part of France – In 2011, it was declared as an overseas department/region and single territorial collectivity of France. This island lies to the northwest of Madagascar.
This novel is based on the current reality of the migratory problems on Mayotte. Refugees from the Comoros islands, namely Anjouan in this story, make the dangerous trip in kwassa-kwassas, frail, rickety vessels, to Mayotte, in search of French citizenship. This has led to Mayotte being overrun by a number of immigrant children, who are left behind when their parents are deported back to their home countries.
In a 2016 article in the French magazine, L’Express, the author says, “I lived in Mayotte from 2008 to 2010 and had been struck by the number of children in the streets. They were not abandoned, they were not the round (sic) they were playing happily on every street corner, some were even occasionally at school and in the evening, they found a roof."
“Many of them were alone. Their parents had been taken back to the border and had left them in Mayotte, thinking of offering them better prospects for the future, and in the hope of returning too.” “Other (children) made the crossing alone between Anjouan, the nearest island of the Comoros, and Mayotte . Some have also experienced difficult family situations and left home. Not everything can be explained by migratory pressure alone. There are drugs, abyssal unemployment, the idleness of youth and this terrible feeling of failure. We can feel it, that feeling. These young people sitting on the side of the road during the day, wondering what to do now since they have already knocked on all the doors.”
In the story, Marie is a young, white nurse from France, who comes to the island to escape the mountains and cold of France. She meets and marries a black man, Chamsidine. Although she desperately wants a child, she is unable to get pregnant and they divorce. One night, a kwassa-kwassa arrives from Anjouan. A very young, beautiful woman shows Marie her newborn baby, born with a green eye and a black eye. She feels that the baby is the devil, djinn. She leaves Marie with the baby and Marie decides to raise the boy as her own.
This boy, Moise, is raised as a privileged French boy. He attends a private school. At 14, Marie tells her son the truth of his origins and he becomes angry. Soon after, Marie has a brain aneurysm and dies in her house, in front of Moise. Unsure what to do, Moise leaves and starts living in the streets. He begins to hang out with the street boys who live in ‘Gaza’. This is the name of the slums on Mayotte, a community that lives in shacks. He meets a teen named ‘Bruce’, who is the unofficial ‘king’ of the ghetto. These boys do not attend school – they steal to obtain their food.
This novel continues to describe Moise and his experiences with the street boys. The author often describes the beauty of the island and the ocean – contrasting it with the ugliness of what is happening with its citizens.
The book’s timeline is non-linear – it jumps forward and backward in time and it switches between narrators in each chapter. I don’t know if this adds to the story. It does make the story feel more chaotic – maybe that was the intent of the author.
May 10, 2021
This book only confirms my enjoyment of the writing style of Nathacha Appanah. Every chapter in this book is written from the point of view of the different characters which brings colours of different emotions to the narration. From the anger of the gang leader, Bruce to the compassion and worry of the mother, Marie to the turmoil of the main character Moïse. This book is a pure delight.
It exposes the violence and extreme poverty in one of the biggest slums in France. Yes, France! The book denounces the contradictions between this island being officially French and yet with realities that metropolitans would have a hard time grasping as happening in their own country. It subtly denounces the coming and going of politicians who make false promises to solve the problems (without ever understanding the said problems) or metropolitan social workers who despite being well-intentioned and having the best theories, never get close enough to the issue to get a slight sense of the issue. Indeed, the metropolitan character in the book will trigger a series of tragic event with what seems to be a completely inoffensive act of inviting a local gang member for a ride.
It exposes the violence and extreme poverty in one of the biggest slums in France. Yes, France! The book denounces the contradictions between this island being officially French and yet with realities that metropolitans would have a hard time grasping as happening in their own country. It subtly denounces the coming and going of politicians who make false promises to solve the problems (without ever understanding the said problems) or metropolitan social workers who despite being well-intentioned and having the best theories, never get close enough to the issue to get a slight sense of the issue. Indeed, the metropolitan character in the book will trigger a series of tragic event with what seems to be a completely inoffensive act of inviting a local gang member for a ride.
June 18, 2020
This is now among my favorite five books ever. This novel was so intense that I needed to put it down and walk away every fifteen minutes for a break. The author is brilliant in her ability to bring tension and emotion to a sociopolitical problem familiar throughout the world. There is so much plot and character development in so few pages without the author feeding readers with grandstanding or lecturing but the moral is clear. The small island is considered part of France and people in France are far enough and comfortable enough to ignore the poverty and violence so far from their world. The adopted son and his mother represented the two worlds of undocumented immigrants and mainland wealth and black and white. When tragedy struck the boy was neglected and dismissed from his comfortable and loving home and returned to the poverty his biological mother experienced. The horror of the year spent with the gang of neglected children was heartbreaking. This novel and the issues it raises about the responsibility of repairing the looting caused by colonization will remain with me.
June 5, 2017
Un roman poignant sur la réalité de cette île française qui ne ressemble en rien à la France que nous connaissons, une dure réalité à 8000km de Paris, un endroit censé être paradisiaque transformé en une pépinière de violence et de misère, entre l'ignorance du gouvernement français et l'immigration massive et illégale des Comores, l'auteur nous livre cette atmosphère dérangeante dans une langue puissante et profonde, comme un coup de poing dans la gueule, on ne sort pas indemne de cette lecture!
August 27, 2020
I thought about a boy born fifteen years ago on one of the Comoros Islands who could have had a different life if he’d been born with two dark eyes. I wondered what he could have done, that boy, to break free from his chains, to avoid that path he’d started on of violence, ignorance and revulsion. I wondered if the truth wasn’t that he was done for before he’d even begun, that boy, and along with him, all those other boys and girls, born, like him, in the wrong place at the wrong time.
September 23, 2017
Une recherche rapide pour "Mayotte" sur Google fait apparaitre des images d'un paradis tropical française dans l'océan Indien. Le roman de Nathacha Appanah révèle la partie salissante caché derrière les eaux azuréennes: des communautés défavorisées aux prises avec la petite délinquance, les drogues et les migrations clandestines de l'Afrique. C'est un portrait fascinant, mais parfois myope, d'une partie du monde que je ne connaissais pas.
August 7, 2018
It was an okay book, I just could not care less about any of the characters, even though the story was heartbreaking.
November 27, 2024
Un livre qui se lit vite mais qui ne laissera, je pense, personne indifférent. Nous est racontée le quotidien de Mayotte, un département français laissé pour compte, tiraillé entre la violence, la drogue, la pauvreté et les gangs qui apparaissent comme solution pour cette jeunesse en perdition.
On suit cinq protagonistes tout au long du récit, et le style épouse et s'adapte parfaitement à chacun. De ce fait, tout s'enchaine sans laisser de répit dans un rythme effréné, le lecteur n'a pas le temps de s'ennuyer.
J'ai tout de même trouvé que les chapitres du point de vue de personnages décédés étaient amenés de manière un peu étranges. Je n'ai pas trouvé qu'ils apportaient une réelle plus-value.
Mais Tropique de la Violence a été, malgré son horreur, une expérience de lecture intéressante, que je recommande à tous et surtout à ceux qui, comme moi, ignorent tout de cette partie de l'histoire de Mayotte.
On suit cinq protagonistes tout au long du récit, et le style épouse et s'adapte parfaitement à chacun. De ce fait, tout s'enchaine sans laisser de répit dans un rythme effréné, le lecteur n'a pas le temps de s'ennuyer.
J'ai tout de même trouvé que les chapitres du point de vue de personnages décédés étaient amenés de manière un peu étranges. Je n'ai pas trouvé qu'ils apportaient une réelle plus-value.
Mais Tropique de la Violence a été, malgré son horreur, une expérience de lecture intéressante, que je recommande à tous et surtout à ceux qui, comme moi, ignorent tout de cette partie de l'histoire de Mayotte.
February 19, 2023
Bechdel non
Diversité oui
Je repense à cette amie brésilienne qui m'a expliqué un jour "je boycotte le cinéma brésilien. Le cinéma brésilien ne met en scène QUE les favelas, la violence et les trafiquants. Alors que le Brésil, ce sont aussi des histoires d'amour, des comédies, des paysages, des gens qui vivent sereins. Mais eux ne sont jamais racontés par l'industrie du cinéma qui s'exporte."
"Beware of single stories" dit Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, qui explique qu'en ne narrant qu'un seul aspect des choses, on occulte tous les autres. ici, Mayotte = bidonville.
Mais le bidonville, les clandestins et les kwassa kwassas sont-ils les seuls aspects que Mayotte a à nous offrir ?
Chercher "les autres aspects" de Mayotte, est-ce colonial ? Est-ce une préoccupation de française de métropole ? Est-ce "cachez donc ce bidonville que je ne saurais voir" ?
On ne voit que lui, ce bidonville, et les mômes qui l'occupent, les trafics, les violences, les viols, les morts.
Le texte était poignant et très dynamique, avec une narration polyphonique à la ponctuation conçue pour ne pas nous laisser respirer. On est en apnée tout au long de la lecture, portée par le texte comme par un courant marin.
Mais je ne peux m'empêcher de penser qu'il y a des gens qui font de leur mieux et vivent sur cette île sans baigner dans la violence. Ces gens là, qui raconte leur histoire ?
Diversité oui
Je repense à cette amie brésilienne qui m'a expliqué un jour "je boycotte le cinéma brésilien. Le cinéma brésilien ne met en scène QUE les favelas, la violence et les trafiquants. Alors que le Brésil, ce sont aussi des histoires d'amour, des comédies, des paysages, des gens qui vivent sereins. Mais eux ne sont jamais racontés par l'industrie du cinéma qui s'exporte."
"Beware of single stories" dit Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, qui explique qu'en ne narrant qu'un seul aspect des choses, on occulte tous les autres. ici, Mayotte = bidonville.
Mais le bidonville, les clandestins et les kwassa kwassas sont-ils les seuls aspects que Mayotte a à nous offrir ?
Chercher "les autres aspects" de Mayotte, est-ce colonial ? Est-ce une préoccupation de française de métropole ? Est-ce "cachez donc ce bidonville que je ne saurais voir" ?
On ne voit que lui, ce bidonville, et les mômes qui l'occupent, les trafics, les violences, les viols, les morts.
Le texte était poignant et très dynamique, avec une narration polyphonique à la ponctuation conçue pour ne pas nous laisser respirer. On est en apnée tout au long de la lecture, portée par le texte comme par un courant marin.
Mais je ne peux m'empêcher de penser qu'il y a des gens qui font de leur mieux et vivent sur cette île sans baigner dans la violence. Ces gens là, qui raconte leur histoire ?
October 27, 2025
Un livre magnifique, des personnages attachants. Tropique de la violence est vraiment une histoire qui prend au tripes, on a pas envie de s’arrêter de lire!! La description des lieux, des personnages, des emotions est parfaite. Le livre depeint une realité très crude de la misère dans le department Français de Mayotte. Bravo !!
February 18, 2025
Très bien écrit même si ça parle de choses très dures
September 29, 2016
De ce beau roman polyphonique, on retiendra d’abord la voix de Marie, bouleversante. Elle nous retrace une vie que l’on pourrait appeler ordinaire. Celle d’une jeune fille qui choisit d’être infirmière et qui, à 26 ans, croise Chamsidine dans les couloirs de l’hôpital. Il est beau et l’envoûte avec les histoires de son île nichée dans le canal du Mozambique.
Deux ans plus tard, elle est mariée et habite à Mayotte. « Je respire l’odeur de ce pays que j’affectionne, je regarde le fond de l’eau, j’admire les femmes. J’aime observer les enfants qui viennent plonger dans la rade. » Une certaine idée du bonheur qui va se fracasser sur le tropique de la violence. Trompé par un mari qui n’a pu résister au charme des autochtones, Marie demandera le divorce en échange de la reconnaissance d’un bébé qui lui est confié. Moïse, ce nouvel amour va grandir, devenir un beau garçon plein de promesses avant de basculer au moment de l’adolescence, de se révolter. À la recherche de ses racines, c’est un sentiment de colère et de frustration qui domine au moment où il apprend la vérité sur ses origines. Il se sent « un moins que rien, une merde ». Il ne sera pas là le jour où sa mère s’effondre mortellement dans sa maison. Le jeune homme sera devenu un Djinn, un «être malfaisant» avec un œil vert et un œil noir, un assassin.
Avec une belle habileté narrative Nathacha Appanah démonte ce système et nous fait toucher du doigt la «vraie vie» sur ce bout de France à 8000 km de Paris.
Voilà Moïse qui prend la parole et raconte comment il en est arrivé à prendre une arme et tuer Bruce, pourquoi il ne lui reste de sa mère qu’une carte d’identité, son foulard en soie et le livre L’enfant et la rivière. Voici Bruce qui raconte comment on devient le chef de Gaza, ce bidonville qui ne peut être régi que par la force, par la violence et où tous seuls les trafics en tous genres font office d’emploi. Voici encore les voix d’Olivier, le policier qui ne peut que constater son impuissance ou encore celle de Stéphane, parti de France plein de bonne volonté au service d’une ONG prête à apporter son aide humanitaire et qui verra lui aussi s’envoler toutes ses illusions. En accueillant Moïse, il aura peut-être même provoqué sa perte.
Au fil du roman, le lecteur constate avec désarroi combien cet endroit qui aurait pu être paradisiaque respire la violence, l’ignorance et le dégoût. Si, en réalité, tous les enfants qui naissaient là, où arrivaient des îles voisines en quête de France, n’étaient pas foutus d’avance et avec eux, « tous les garçons et les filles nés comme eux, au mauvais endroit, au mauvais moment. »
Poursuivant son œuvre, l’auteur s’affirme. À la famille, un thème déjà très présent dans En attendant demain et dont elle nous offre une nouvelle variation ici, vient se greffer la question des origines admirablement traité par les différentes voix qui s’expriment successivement ainsi que celle plus politique du destin de ces petits bouts de France qui ne sont plus depuis bien longtemps la priorité des gouvernements, sinon pour illustrer la chronique des faits divers et alimenter les discours xénophobes.
On ne peut que souhaiter qu’un Prix littéraire mette encore davantage ces questions en lumière.
http://urlz.fr/48z8
Deux ans plus tard, elle est mariée et habite à Mayotte. « Je respire l’odeur de ce pays que j’affectionne, je regarde le fond de l’eau, j’admire les femmes. J’aime observer les enfants qui viennent plonger dans la rade. » Une certaine idée du bonheur qui va se fracasser sur le tropique de la violence. Trompé par un mari qui n’a pu résister au charme des autochtones, Marie demandera le divorce en échange de la reconnaissance d’un bébé qui lui est confié. Moïse, ce nouvel amour va grandir, devenir un beau garçon plein de promesses avant de basculer au moment de l’adolescence, de se révolter. À la recherche de ses racines, c’est un sentiment de colère et de frustration qui domine au moment où il apprend la vérité sur ses origines. Il se sent « un moins que rien, une merde ». Il ne sera pas là le jour où sa mère s’effondre mortellement dans sa maison. Le jeune homme sera devenu un Djinn, un «être malfaisant» avec un œil vert et un œil noir, un assassin.
Avec une belle habileté narrative Nathacha Appanah démonte ce système et nous fait toucher du doigt la «vraie vie» sur ce bout de France à 8000 km de Paris.
Voilà Moïse qui prend la parole et raconte comment il en est arrivé à prendre une arme et tuer Bruce, pourquoi il ne lui reste de sa mère qu’une carte d’identité, son foulard en soie et le livre L’enfant et la rivière. Voici Bruce qui raconte comment on devient le chef de Gaza, ce bidonville qui ne peut être régi que par la force, par la violence et où tous seuls les trafics en tous genres font office d’emploi. Voici encore les voix d’Olivier, le policier qui ne peut que constater son impuissance ou encore celle de Stéphane, parti de France plein de bonne volonté au service d’une ONG prête à apporter son aide humanitaire et qui verra lui aussi s’envoler toutes ses illusions. En accueillant Moïse, il aura peut-être même provoqué sa perte.
Au fil du roman, le lecteur constate avec désarroi combien cet endroit qui aurait pu être paradisiaque respire la violence, l’ignorance et le dégoût. Si, en réalité, tous les enfants qui naissaient là, où arrivaient des îles voisines en quête de France, n’étaient pas foutus d’avance et avec eux, « tous les garçons et les filles nés comme eux, au mauvais endroit, au mauvais moment. »
Poursuivant son œuvre, l’auteur s’affirme. À la famille, un thème déjà très présent dans En attendant demain et dont elle nous offre une nouvelle variation ici, vient se greffer la question des origines admirablement traité par les différentes voix qui s’expriment successivement ainsi que celle plus politique du destin de ces petits bouts de France qui ne sont plus depuis bien longtemps la priorité des gouvernements, sinon pour illustrer la chronique des faits divers et alimenter les discours xénophobes.
On ne peut que souhaiter qu’un Prix littéraire mette encore davantage ces questions en lumière.
http://urlz.fr/48z8
June 23, 2022
Ooft.
Nathacha Appanah wasn't kidding when she put 'violent' in the title. Ouch. Do not underestimate.
I read this in a matter of hours. I usually hate the word but this was truly "unputdownable".
A wildly compelling, dark, distressing story enlightening you about the realities of the slums and gangs in Mayotte, a French department which has clearly been abandoned by France.
I can't give it 5* personally because I really struggle with some kinds of violence (won't specify due to spoilers) and wish they could be avoided, though I did see it coming from the beginning.
Nathacha Appanah wasn't kidding when she put 'violent' in the title. Ouch. Do not underestimate.
I read this in a matter of hours. I usually hate the word but this was truly "unputdownable".
A wildly compelling, dark, distressing story enlightening you about the realities of the slums and gangs in Mayotte, a French department which has clearly been abandoned by France.
I can't give it 5* personally because I really struggle with some kinds of violence (won't specify due to spoilers) and wish they could be avoided, though I did see it coming from the beginning.
June 21, 2017
Le sujet est intéressant, l’écriture fluide, le roman assez court, mais NON je n'ai eu aucune empathie pour les personnages et NON je n'ai pas accroché du tout à cette histoire.
Bref, ce n'est pas un livre pour moi. 2/5
Bref, ce n'est pas un livre pour moi. 2/5
July 24, 2025
Just a solidly good book. One I wouldn't have found without my around the world challenge. Despite that one being in a slump, finds like this can/ should remind me that it's worth looking around for these books. Books that take me out of my comfort zone and show me parts of the world, lives in this world that I wouldn't come cross otherwise.
Appanah is a Mauritian author (who now lives in France) but this book is actually set on Mayotte, an island under French jurisdiction located on the other side of Madagascar. Both seem to be gorgeous islands but both have issues. It seems though that people don't expect a French governed place to struggle as much as Mayotte does, something Appanah highlights here. The French govern attracts refugees and many people live in poverty. That's what we're looking at here: poverty, youths alone on the streets, violence and desperation connected with that; the ones truly left behind and to fend for themselves. Politicians that only care when there are votes to be gathered, volunteer workers who only stretch themselves as far as they are comfortable. So, no, not a pretty story, raw and unflinching we see how easy it is to lose one's path in a place like this. Real life that can feel like "Lord of the Flies".
The writing is beautiful, the subject matter sad and harrowing. I see a lot of complaints about the violence and how graphic this book is. Thoughts on that: while this is a fictional story, it mirrors true situations. Sitting here in your safe Western space and being upset that this was violent is like you're missing the point. And it's not graphic! As a dog lover I was worried how far this would go because, of course, that touches me deeply. But first of all, what happens serves purpose, and we only see the aftermath. There is no violence for shock factor, there are terrifying things for terrifying truths, and things are gonna get worse than animal death. Again, no graphic descriptions but it is more than clear what is happening, you feel what is happening. And honestly, I am getting so sick of readers sitting casual on their couches complaining that they don't like to read these things while there's people out there having to live these lives. The least we can do is occasionally engage with these real life Horrors while we are mostly safe from them. Admittedly, you don't need to do that in fiction but if you ever claimed you like to read to learn and broaden your horizon, stories of this caliber should occasionally be part of that. And sure, take care of yourself, I read all kinds of things and take breaks between more intense topics. But when I do go this route it should better be unflinching and not sanitized for my convenience. And don't yell trigger warnings now, being uncomfortable is not the same as being triggered in a psychological sense, only few people truly need those. From personal experience, I additionally believe it is healthy to be forced to engage with your triggers once in a while, a book is a very safe way to do that. To clarify: I don't have any problem with a list of trigger warning at the beginning of a book, I have a problem with us readers shying away from or complaining about topics we find too troubling! I guess rant over. (Also, picking up this title (!) and complaining about violence is a bit rich?!)
This is a distressing document of lives lost to circumstance. The magical realism input where some POVs are those of dead characters only adds to the atmosphere, a heightened sense of loss gets transmitted that way. Moíse'story sucked me in and left me distraught. Well done, Appanah!
Appanah is a Mauritian author (who now lives in France) but this book is actually set on Mayotte, an island under French jurisdiction located on the other side of Madagascar. Both seem to be gorgeous islands but both have issues. It seems though that people don't expect a French governed place to struggle as much as Mayotte does, something Appanah highlights here. The French govern attracts refugees and many people live in poverty. That's what we're looking at here: poverty, youths alone on the streets, violence and desperation connected with that; the ones truly left behind and to fend for themselves. Politicians that only care when there are votes to be gathered, volunteer workers who only stretch themselves as far as they are comfortable. So, no, not a pretty story, raw and unflinching we see how easy it is to lose one's path in a place like this. Real life that can feel like "Lord of the Flies".
The writing is beautiful, the subject matter sad and harrowing. I see a lot of complaints about the violence and how graphic this book is. Thoughts on that: while this is a fictional story, it mirrors true situations. Sitting here in your safe Western space and being upset that this was violent is like you're missing the point. And it's not graphic! As a dog lover I was worried how far this would go because, of course, that touches me deeply. But first of all, what happens serves purpose, and we only see the aftermath. There is no violence for shock factor, there are terrifying things for terrifying truths, and things are gonna get worse than animal death. Again, no graphic descriptions but it is more than clear what is happening, you feel what is happening. And honestly, I am getting so sick of readers sitting casual on their couches complaining that they don't like to read these things while there's people out there having to live these lives. The least we can do is occasionally engage with these real life Horrors while we are mostly safe from them. Admittedly, you don't need to do that in fiction but if you ever claimed you like to read to learn and broaden your horizon, stories of this caliber should occasionally be part of that. And sure, take care of yourself, I read all kinds of things and take breaks between more intense topics. But when I do go this route it should better be unflinching and not sanitized for my convenience. And don't yell trigger warnings now, being uncomfortable is not the same as being triggered in a psychological sense, only few people truly need those. From personal experience, I additionally believe it is healthy to be forced to engage with your triggers once in a while, a book is a very safe way to do that. To clarify: I don't have any problem with a list of trigger warning at the beginning of a book, I have a problem with us readers shying away from or complaining about topics we find too troubling! I guess rant over. (Also, picking up this title (!) and complaining about violence is a bit rich?!)
This is a distressing document of lives lost to circumstance. The magical realism input where some POVs are those of dead characters only adds to the atmosphere, a heightened sense of loss gets transmitted that way. Moíse'story sucked me in and left me distraught. Well done, Appanah!
December 3, 2024
Set on the archipelago of Mayotte, a department of France off the Eastern coast of Africa, this personal story of a young boy and his fate also works to expose the much larger issues devastating this small cluster of islands. Mayotte's geographic position and connection to France has caused major immigration issues as makeshift boats, referred to as kwassa-kwassas, from nearby islands that declared independence from France in the 1970's, continually make landfall on the shores of Mayotte. The boats are filled with migrants desperate for the resources available on the department, but the situation has become unsustainable as undocumented migrants now make up nearly half of the small islands' population.
Now with that context...Moïse, a boy brought over on a kwassa-kwassa and abandoned by his mother as an infant for fear of the curse she believes lies in his differently colored eyes, is left alone in the world after his adoptive mother suddenly dies when he is 14 years old. Leaving the pampered and sheltered life of his adolescence, Moïse is forced to confront the dark underbelly of the tropical island--the densely populated shantytown referred to as Gaza and its gang leader, Bruce.
Moïse is thrust from a life of music, satiety, and reading to one of drugs, hunger, and violence. The book is short but it packs a punch. The boy's story becomes more and more tragic as the tale goes on and the book's setting--an island--only further illustrates how trapped he is.
The constantly shifting perspectives give voice to all sides in this conflict--from the gang leader to the authorities to the white saviors, we hear from them all. I thought Appanah did a terrific job at differentiating these voices and shifting her writing style to ensure they didn't all blend together. This was an excellent novel that weaves the personal with the geopolitical and that despite the poetic and lyrical language, doesn't shy away from the horrors happening on this "forgotten" island of France. Recommended for readers of Fernanda Melchor!
Now with that context...Moïse, a boy brought over on a kwassa-kwassa and abandoned by his mother as an infant for fear of the curse she believes lies in his differently colored eyes, is left alone in the world after his adoptive mother suddenly dies when he is 14 years old. Leaving the pampered and sheltered life of his adolescence, Moïse is forced to confront the dark underbelly of the tropical island--the densely populated shantytown referred to as Gaza and its gang leader, Bruce.
Moïse is thrust from a life of music, satiety, and reading to one of drugs, hunger, and violence. The book is short but it packs a punch. The boy's story becomes more and more tragic as the tale goes on and the book's setting--an island--only further illustrates how trapped he is.
The constantly shifting perspectives give voice to all sides in this conflict--from the gang leader to the authorities to the white saviors, we hear from them all. I thought Appanah did a terrific job at differentiating these voices and shifting her writing style to ensure they didn't all blend together. This was an excellent novel that weaves the personal with the geopolitical and that despite the poetic and lyrical language, doesn't shy away from the horrors happening on this "forgotten" island of France. Recommended for readers of Fernanda Melchor!
November 10, 2025
J’ai le cœur qui veut exploser et sortir de ma poitrine. Cette rage qui boue face à tant d’injuste et d’inégalité. Mayotte, département français laissé à l’abandon, dans une misère à peine croyable où les enfants apprennent les règles de la jungle très tôt. C’est d’une douleur et d’une violence sans nom. La plume de Nathacha est direct, violente et elle ne s’en excuse pas. C’est cru et vulgaire mais d’une importance capitale pour saisir l’essence de toute cette misère. Elle tape là où ça fait mal, sous un fond de lyrisme douloureux. Je déteste ce monde. Je déteste ces inégalités. Je déteste savoir que c’est le quotidien de tant d’enfants, de tant de personnes. Moïse m’a déchirée le cœur de part sa tendresse qui clash avec la violence dans laquelle il est jeté malgré lui. Bruce est un être odieux et sans âme mais malgré ça je n’oublie pas que c’est sa condition, imposée par l’état, qui l’a poussé à être ainsi. Ceci n’excuse pas les actes atroces et inhumains qu’il commet, mais si la France faisait son boulot, ces jeunes là auraient un futur bien différent.
Merci Nathacha pour cet œuvre poignante, douloureuse mais importante. N’oublions pas les Mahorais. Mais aussi tout ces enfants oubliés de l’histoire, qui chaque jour se batte pour survivre.
Merci Nathacha pour cet œuvre poignante, douloureuse mais importante. N’oublions pas les Mahorais. Mais aussi tout ces enfants oubliés de l’histoire, qui chaque jour se batte pour survivre.
December 3, 2025
Foi muito interessante conhecer Mayotte, uma ilha que eu nem sabia que existia, mas que agora pulsa novas camadas de mundo em mim.
A autora aborda muito bem essa questão geográfica, sempre dizendo o nome dos locais (o que foi muito legal poder ver no Maps) e descrevendo o entorno dos ambientes, a vegetação, construção das casas…Foi uma experiência poder conhecer uma realidade local, que ao mesmo tempo é tão longe e tão próxima das violências que temos aqui no Brasil.
A composição das personagens são planas e os acontecimentos tratados de forma ligeira, não tem muito um aprendizado, somente uma perpetuação de tudo. Sinto que é exatamente isso que a autora quis passar, afinal, os ciclos só se repetem e a população que vive em Mayotte cai cada vez mais na miséria humana. A matéria é urgente mas a forma como foi tratada, a reduz. É como se o livro tivesse pressa demais para permitir que algo se enraizasse.
“O céu estava sem nuvens e, através dessa paisagem idílica, alguma coisa preenchia o meu coração. Que país era esse tão doce, tão bonito? Que país era esse que tinha esquecido de mim?”
A autora aborda muito bem essa questão geográfica, sempre dizendo o nome dos locais (o que foi muito legal poder ver no Maps) e descrevendo o entorno dos ambientes, a vegetação, construção das casas…Foi uma experiência poder conhecer uma realidade local, que ao mesmo tempo é tão longe e tão próxima das violências que temos aqui no Brasil.
A composição das personagens são planas e os acontecimentos tratados de forma ligeira, não tem muito um aprendizado, somente uma perpetuação de tudo. Sinto que é exatamente isso que a autora quis passar, afinal, os ciclos só se repetem e a população que vive em Mayotte cai cada vez mais na miséria humana. A matéria é urgente mas a forma como foi tratada, a reduz. É como se o livro tivesse pressa demais para permitir que algo se enraizasse.
“O céu estava sem nuvens e, através dessa paisagem idílica, alguma coisa preenchia o meu coração. Que país era esse tão doce, tão bonito? Que país era esse que tinha esquecido de mim?”
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