Une enfance algérienne

by jean-pierre millecam (Editor), Annie Cohen (Contributor)

Les seize écrivains présents dans ce recueil sont nés en Algérie avant l'indépendance. Ils se trouvent réunis ici comme ils ne l'ont jamais été sur la terre natale. Ils nous disent leur Algérie : éclats d'enfance heureuse ou meurtrie par la guerre, approches résurrectives qui restituent une société polyphonique où se côtoient musulmans, juifs, chrétiens, et où s'échangent, s'adoptent et parfois s'excluent traditions et cultures.

Genres: Algeria, Africa, Anthologies, African Literature, Nonfiction

256 pages, Pocket Book

First published March 13, 1997

Reviews

[Assia · Rating 5 out of 5]

As I said the moment I finished reading this book I thought "ce livre c'est une pépite". This book is a treasure. I thought I wouldn't identify to any of the authors because they mostly describe their childhood before the independence and I was born in the 90ies. But I had it ALL WRONG! I couldn't identify more actually. I found something that reminded me of my Algerian childhood in each story. That's the beauty of these stories. mine was a whole different times, it was years later but I still have so much in common with the authors. So many childhood memories I thought I had forgotten came back. It was a flood of good old memories. And I felt old haha. But I didn't mind. And I'm definitely giving this book a 5stars.

[Phoenix · Rating 4 out of 5]

Enjoyable, But Losing Something in Translation

The 16 autobiographical stories themselves are interesting, but if you can, I'd recommend seeking out the book in the original French.

It starts out well with Malek Alloula weaving a delightful and rude telling of children spying on a tryst between the towns postmistress and a married carpenter. Then Jamal Bencheikh remembers the passing of his grandfather and the long gone streams and waterfalls of summer town of Tlemcen followed by Albert Bensoussan's "The Lost Child" plays on the idea of loss as a very young Jewish boy he remembers being lost in the market, and making the friendship of a young Muslim girl, only to lose that friendship years later when she reaches puberty and is placed behind the cloister of a veil. A few chapters later one Roger Daoun's "The Hamman" (steam bath) flows like a cinematic tracking shot, following Shem, from the market with his mother, through preparation of the Sabbath meal to steam bath (hammam) ending at the synagogue and prayer

Not all of the stories connect. Hélène Ciroux's Oran is an overly descriptive memory of the city of her youth and the difficulty of returning to it again as an adult. The slow death of Annie Cohen's mother hinges on an unfamiliar (for me) imagery of Brunel's film Viridiana. It wasn't until I read the translator's note on Nabil Farès' "The Memory Of Others" that I understood the problem. The translator commented that the English translation couldn't capture the French wordplay of "Esquimaux"/"esquit mots" (Eskimo/exquisite words). Many of the contributors are poets, and French has a rhythm and rhyme based on agreement of word endings that can't be replicated in English.

Nevertheless there were some other successes. Mohammed Hassami recounts his class's rebellion against French in school as an attempt to understand the meaning of Algerian independence. Habib Tengour offers a winsome memory of his grandfather and their trip to Paris while Leyla Sabbar's "They Kill Teachers" throws cold water on revolutionary violence.

Overall I related to the experiences, though I had to be forgiving of the translator who had a most difficult task. Your mileage may vary.

[Annette S · Rating 3 out of 5]

A collection of short stories written by Algerian authors from a child’s perspective. These authors tackle sexism, racism, anti-Semitism, and war from the point of view of children who are ignorant of and shielded by adults in these situations. Some stories are eye opening, others adorable, and all provide excellent visual depictions of their Algerian homes.

[Helynne · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a collection of 16 short stories, all translated from the original French, and written mostly by native Algerians who grew up in their country, but later resided and became respected writers in France. “Friendship among people divided by religious, colonial and class structure is one of the enduring theme of Sebbar’s works,” Anne Donadey states in the book’s preface. Sebbar edited this collection that definitely provides a cross-section of these conflicts in her country. Her own short story “They Kill Teachers,” which falls towards the end of the group, recalls the dangerous position ofFrench teachers in 1954 when angry Algerian rebels who had been chafing for decades under colonial rule, would indeed shoot and kill teachers and other Christian and domineering French people they considered interlopers in a Muslim and Arabic-speaking culture. Other stories describe the opposing side—the bloody massacre of Algerians who dared rebel against the French. In “Independence Clear,” Mohammed Kacimi-El-Hassani recalled the Algerians schools of 1962 right after Algerian independence –when more French influence was still evidence than one might have thought. Most of the stories, however, are more low-key—short on plot, long on childhood memories of the native country. One of my favorite was Albert Bensoussan’s “The Lost Child” in which he recalls the challenges of being Jewish in Algiers. Once when he was separated from his mother in the city market, he was rescued by a kind man who took him home to play with his daughter. The ensuing friendship between the children was important to the boy for years until he realized the young girl had inexplicably disappeared. But all young Algerian girls tended to so because by age 11, they were considered marriageable and were taken out of school and forced to wear the veil. This is one of the most culturally rich stories in the book as well because of its descriptions of Algerian pastries, children’s games, and Judeo-Arabic traditions. One of the non-Algerian contributors is Hélène Cixous, who is best known for her iconic writings on literary criticism from a feminist point of view,. She was born in and grew up in Oran, Algeria on the Mediterranean coast. Her story “Bare Feet” recalls a childhood incident that made her realize that even though her French family was poor, she was forever separated in class and opportunity from Algerian children her own age. Several other stories such as Fatima Gallaire’s “Baï,” Habib Tehgor’s “Childhood,” and “Malek Alloula’s “My Exotic Childhood” are also steeped in children’s memories of parents, nannies, school days, and daily joys and sorrow. In my opinion, the most powerful story is the last one in the book--"The Sources Return," a memoir by Alain Vircondelet about his coming of age in Algiers. The son of an Algerian mother and a French father, Vircondelet was kept protected inside his house all during the tumultuous war years then spirited off to France in 1962. His Algerian identity was indelible, however. "Algeria had been established differently in him, sensually infiltrated to assure him that he truly came from there, with its natural violence, its rough sweetness, its crushing indolence . . . . By what strange destiny did he now have to go to France, submit to its reserved receptions it lifestyle so foreign to him, to its very peculiar rhythms?" All in all, this is a nice collection for anyone interested in Algerian literature and the singular French-Algerian connection.

[Julie Griffin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read this book as part of a reading around the world I am doing with my sister. The first book we chose was a little too much, so we found this one as a second choice. I learned a lot about Algeria from the book, and the stories were varied enough to be interesting and informative.