Tangier is a possessed city, haunted by spirits of different faiths. When we have literature in our blood, in our souls, it's impossible not to be visited by them. -- from Another Morocco
In 2006, Abdellah Taia returned to his native Morocco to promote the Moroccan release of his second book, Le rouge du tarbouche ( The Red of the Fez). During this book tour, he was interviewed by a reporter for the French-Arab journal Tel Quel, who was intrigued by the themes of homosexuality she saw in his writing. Taia, who had not publically come out and feared the repercussions for himself and his family of doing so in a country where homosexuality continues to be outlawed, nevertheless consented to the interview and subsequent profile, "Homosexuel envers et contre tous" ("Homosexual against All Odds"). This interview made him the first openly gay writer to be published in Morocco.
Another Morocco collects short stories from Taia's first two books, Mon Maroc ( My Morocco) and Le rouge du tarbouche, both published before this pivotal moment. In these stories, we see a young writer testing the porousness of boundaries, flirting with strategies of revelation and concealment. These are tales of life in a working-class Moroccan family, of a maturing writer's fraught relationship with language and community, and of the many cities and works that have inspired him.
With a reverence for the subaltern -- for the strength of women and the disenfranchised -- these stories speak of humanity and the construction of the self against forces that would invalidate its very existence. Taia's work is, necessarily, a political gesture.
Abdellah Taïa is a Moroccan writer born in Salé in 1973. He grew up in a neighborhood called “Hay Salam” located between Salé and Rabat, where his father Mohammed works at the General Library of the capital. His mother M’Barka, an illiterate housewife, gives so much meaning to his days and accompanies his sleep with her nocturnal melodies. This son of a working-class district and second youngest of a household of ten children is the first Moroccan writer to publicly assume his homosexuality.
Abdellah Taïa has been living in Paris since 1999, where he obtained a doctorate in Letters at La Sorbonne University while managing to write 5 books. The last one, called “an Arabian melancholia”, was just published by “Seuil” on March 6th of 2008
Taïa is a wonderful writer. These are labeled stories, but in fact they are all about one family, presumable based on his own, and envelop the reader in that family’s struggles to survive with little means in Sale, near Rabat, and in the protagonists struggle to find a way to be honest about his sexuality. The stories are also about the tension between Arabic and French, the push-pull of craving the reputed and open French culture and recognizing the class-based oppression of French in Morocco.
And the varieties of cruelty that we inflict on each other, and the intensity of love for mother, friends, lovers.
I recommend this; the writing is outstanding. And for more by Taïa, see the new issue(#28) of the Two Lines journal published by the Center for the Art of Translation.
Taia is a writer from Morocco who lives in France. This book is billed as a short story collection but reads as memoir, since each slice all seem to share the same characters and setting, and the storyline tracks the author’s own very closely. The first person narrator is always named Abdellah.
The book then is stronger read as a whole; individual stories feel like fragments, but do cohere as they interact with their neighbours, family members, lovers, memories, and movies. Spare, moving and evocative.
Taïa's sexuality is barely hinted at (or absent) in most of these early stories; for me, they seem a bit too similar in tone and content to enjoy together in larger groups. There are certainly memorable moments, like The Wounded Man, about the narrator (Taïa?) surreptitiously watching the Patrice Chereau film on TV, while his mother sleeps nearby.
When I read this book and wrote my review I was unaware that 'Another Morocco' contained some of the short stories from Taia's first two books, 'Mon Maroc' (My Morocco) and 'Le rouge du tarbouche' (The Red of the Fez). To judge by many of the reviews on GR I was not unique in my ignorance. I certainly didn't understand that these stories predated the 'outing' of Abdellah Taia in 2006 (see his biography for full details). I can't help thinking that these facts were if not concealed they were elided by the publisher. As context they explain much that I, and others, didn't understand at the time of reading - update November 2024.
My original review is below:
First of all this is not really a collection of stories so much as a novel/memoir of growing up in Morocco in the last two decades of the 20th century composed of chapters of, mostly sequential incidents moving from child to adulthood. The chapters are all interconnected and although they could be read individually they appear to belong to and with each other. Having said that they create a powerful and moving story of growing up and accomplishing ambitions which by their very nature end up separating the author from his cultural roots.
Taia is a very interesting Moroccan author, a self acknowledge gay man (I believe he has joked about his status as the only gay Moroccan - clearly enjoying the irony of his apparent uniqueness in light of the historic reputation of Morocco - and not so historic if authors Aldo Busi are to be believed - to countless European men as a place that where they could indulge their forbidden sexuality openly - but also as Muslim, a writer - but one who writes in French and what that means in terms of cultural alienation. As a voice from a country and culture that I have read about, but mostly from the point of outsiders, even though they were trying to know or understand Morocco and Moroccans, Taia is an insightful and fascinating writer. He has several other novels now available in English and I will be reading them soon.
I've been wanting to read a personal account about Morocco from someone who was born there. Even better for me, Abdellah Taïa is a gay writer, so I enjoyed how he talked about that. There are very few gay, Muslim writers I can find, and I imagine not all who are have written in or had their works translated into English. This is a very personal book, and it talks a lot about the author's childhood. The stories it contains are interesting, although he takes a few liberties in his story telling style by always leaving a few questions unanswered. I personally enjoyed pondering what he left unsaid, but some readers may not like that. We do get great accounts of what growing up in Morocco was like for Abdellah.
While this was originally written in French, the translation seems very good. On another note, the pieces are also not in chronological order. Since the selections in here come from his first two books in French, the order presented here may be a result of that fact.
While not a very long book, it's definitely one that's going to stick with me for a while. I plan to read one of the author's novels once I cut down my to read list.
A bit clever. A bit angsty. Very much unsettled and anxious. Vacillates between turmoil and tenderness. Thoughtful throughout.
Interesting contrast to Fouad Laroui's collection of short stories, in that, these are both Moroccan authors writing in languages not of their childhood, in countries where they are treated like the "other." One chooses humor and the other angst. Both reflecting on the absurdity of it all.
I am a huge fan of this author and I would read everything he puts out into the world. This is a collection of short stories but it feels more like a memoir as there were some recurring characters and the focus of each story was the author. The stories are about family, the cruelties we inflict on each other. I found the stories to be moving, evocative and well written as his experiences in Morocco as a youth and in Paris as an adult become interwoven. When he leaves for Paris, he realises that his experiences of Morocco becomes stronger and there is a struggle with settling in the western world. Like many people of the diaspora, he experiences a sense of loss, a loss of family, of Moroccan life, of family and tradition.
Really adored this book. So spare and simple, yet so much feeling of a youth becoming a man. Ties to home and family, but leaving. Treatment of sexuality is beautiful.
The more I read by Taia the more interesting and layered he becomes. This collection of "selected short stories" seems to be more memoirs than short stories and though some readers complain that they feel disconnected and non-linear, I experienced them as I would a conversation with the author, where his experiences in Morocco as a youth and in Paris as an adult become interwoven, each influencing and reacting to the other. In the story "A Life Elsewhere, or The Translator" he realizes that settling in Paris only makes his memory and experience of Morocco stronger, more a basis for his writing and responses. He struggles with moving towards a western, more liberal life, while mourning the loss of family, tradition and struggle of Morocco. This "life between" is beautifully communicated in his writing and I feel his "destabilization" so viscerally
I read most of this book after Katie’s marathon. Everyone is taking a short nap. I finished it while laying perpendicular on the bed. In front of me are two huge curtains hiding very small windows. The embassy suites in Alexandria has bigger windows, but they face in to the enclosed courtyard. The first few stories were marvelous. He talks of whacking it in his older brother’s bedroom in front of the mirror. He’s a true freak. The last essay fusses over writing in Arabic, less interesting.
Read for the Read Harder 2017 challenge: poetry in translation on a theme other than love. While it's not specifically poetry, I felt the prose was poetic enough to count!
"Another Morocco"by Abdellah Taïa was a beautiful and raw exploration of Morocco and what it was like for Abdellah to navigate family obligation, identity, and sexuality in his home country. I read this book while traveling in Morocco and it was an insightful companion.
I really enjoyed the structure of this book. Getting a lot of beautiful vignettes from Taïa’s life painted a really interesting picture of him. The way he describes things and creates his imagery is fantastic. Took a star off for the bathhouse story because why.
The worst stories feel insightful and are pleasant to read, but the best stories feel like secrets the author tells you as he holds you close. Intimate and refreshing. I hope to read in the original french.
I didn't end up finishing this one-- a few of the stories were terrific, but largely this commentary on witnessing womanhood borders on obsequious and I lost interest.
Possibly might only enjoy it if you are interested in life in Morocco. I enjoyed his perspective and his stories are interesting and intriguing. You want to know more!