A Country for Dying

by Abdellah Taïa, Emma Ramadan (Translator)

An exquisite novel of North Africans in Paris by "one of the most original and necessary voices in world literature"*

Paris, summer of 2010. Zahira is a Moroccan prostitute late in her career whose generosity is her way of defying her humiliation and misery. Her friend Aziz, a male prostitute, admires her and emulates her. Aziz is transitioning from his past as a man into the womanhood of his future, and asks Zahira to help him choose a name for himself as a woman. Motjaba is an Iranian revolutionary, a refugee in Paris, a gay man fleeing his country at the end of his rope, who finds refuge for a few days with Zahira. And then there is Allal, Zahira's first love, who comes to Paris years later to save their love.

The world of A Country for Dying is a world of dreamers, of lovers, for whom the price of dreaming is one they must pay with their flesh. Writes Taïa, "So many people find themselves in the same situation. It is our destiny: To pay with our bodies for other people's future."

Genres: Fiction, Queer, LGBT, France, Morocco, Africa, Contemporary

136 pages, Paperback

First published January 8, 2015

About the author

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

Reviews

[Andrew H · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Go on! Do your Scheherazade thing, Zannouba ... I don't have a lot of time but I'm listening." p.74.

A Country for Dying is a short but intense novel. It is a string of narratives, a chain of interior monologues in which a complex history is built up. Like Scheherazade, the women retell stories within stories, to save themselves: their "fictions" are modes of truth telling during which they face up to their marginalisation as women, as refugees, as individuals subordinated by religion and class. Allal, Zahira's former black lover, longs to kill her: a threat that foregrounds the danger of patriarchy. Taia takes on some huge themes in this short work -- gender, transsexuality, eros as power -- and characteristically faces them head on with brutal and lyrical language. A deeply disturbing and provocative work by a unflinching writer and film maker.

[George Ilsley · Rating 3 out of 5]

Taia is a Moroccan author who has lived in Paris for many years, and best-known for Salvation Army.

This book describes itself as a novel but Kirkus Reviews calls it "vignettes and monologues." These monologue are anguished and anxious, centred on the plight of Arabs and other immigrants in Paris—Zahira, a sex worker from Algiers, and Aziz, who wants to be a woman but still feels the weight of a male body.

The theatricality of these vignettes and monologues is limited.

I came to consider that "the country for dying" was the penchant for labels and labelling; “the country” was feeling the need to belong to a nation or a family; the burden of gender; the stigma of labels such as whore or actress. A label is a painful prison. Dreamers are never really awake. Life is suffering, and even a supposedly beautiful city like Paris can be a shithole.

Please note all the harsh language in this review is sampled from the text.

[Areeb Ahmad (Bankrupt_Bookworm) · Rating 4 out of 5]

"How could you do this to me, Zahira? Forget me completely and, years later, once more humiliate me, crush me, turn me into a faceless man? From far in the past, you returned to destroy what remained of my dignity. From over there, from the land of the French, you showed me your unabashed contempt once more. Your second and mortal vengeance."

This short novel is divided into three parts with three chapters each; while the first two happen in Paris in July and August of 2010, the third is set in Indochina in 1954—its three chapters are a continuous dialogue, written fully in reported speech. The reading experience of this book is fleeting as if trying to hold on to an ephemeral moment slipping through the fingers. Chapters are mono-focalized, intense, each really delving into the headspace of the viewpoint characters. These vignettes also have nested stories, past histories revealed as cutoff tales, all narrators veritable Scheherazades.

This condensed narrative packs a lot of power, showing how matrices of marginalization take shape in societies, whether it be due to actual differences or invented ones. Taïa is masterful at giving depth to his characters, bringing alive their conflicts and contradictions, the shiny bits as well as the grubby parts. It deals in hopeful migration and eventual disenchantment, loving and living on the fringe, waiting for a future that will always be murky, yet finding ways to make the best of one's situation in the shadows and attempting at decisive re-invention even if they find new pitfalls and snares.



(I received a finished copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.)

[Ula]

the hell you mean this book is under 150 pages

it's so short and yet full of stories and gorgeous gorgeous moments, i don't even know what to write about not to spoil the fellow readers' experience lmao just go read it if the blurb suggests it might be your cup of tea

also, i adore a specific sheherezade-inspired part of this story

[Nathalie Gonçalves · Rating 4 out of 5]

“A estrada escura pode levar a qualquer lugar. O inferno talvez seja eterno, sim, mas um dia ele deixa de ser apenas o inferno. Ele se transforma. Nós nos adaptamos. Algo se abre em nós. O milagre acontece. Ele precisa acontecer.”

que grata surpresa foi descobrir esse livro tão forte, triste, espinhoso. tive a impressão de ler um romance dividido em contos - e foi uma excelente impressão, por sinal.
o lugar onde os nossos sonhos podem ser sonhos e mais do que isso, será que ele existe?

[Gumma · Rating 5 out of 5]

Preciosísimo🖤

[Ceyrone · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am a huge fan of this authors work and I will read everything that he writes. This is a short novel that is divided into 3 parts. The first two are set in Paris in July and August, in 2010 and the third is set in Indochina in 1954. The chapters are written in continuous dialogue, which I thought would pull me out of the story. But I was drawn in, each chapter packs quite the punch, each delving into the headspace of the characters. Abdellah Taïa does such a great job at exposing the characters conflict and contradictions. We follow Zahira who lives with an illusion of what love is. We also follow Zannouba who is preparing for gender confirmation surgery and leaving behind her former name Aziz. And Mojtaba, a gay Iranian man, who is traveling through Paris. It’s beautifully written, I highly recommend.

"How could you do this to me, Zahira? Forget me completely and, years later, once more humiliate me, crush me, turn me into a faceless man? From far in the past, you returned to destroy what remained of my dignity. From over there, from the land of the French, you showed me your unabashed contempt once more. Your second and mortal vengeance."

[Chay Boub · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Un pays pour mourir" Abdallah taïa
بعض الأعمال تجعلك حائرا، يجتاحك شعور لا استطيع وصفه ، لانني لا ادرك في أي خانة يجب ان أصنفه، هذا بالضبط ماحدث لي مع هذه الرواية، رواية نقلت لنا حياة خمس شخصيات، زاهيرة بائعة هوى مغربية بفرنسا ، زنوبة(عابرة جنسية كان اسمه عزيز سابقا)من الجزائر ايضا تعيش بفرنسا، mojtaba مثلي فار من إيران الى فرنسا، و علال المغربي تعمد الكاتب تكرار انه أسود البشرة، يحب عزيزة و سيقتلها في الاخير، وزينب مغربية هي الاخرى بائعة هو (قصريا) هي من نتائج الاستعمار الفرنسي...اجد بان الكاتب اختار هاذه الشخصيات بدقة لامتناهية كما ربط حياتها بالقدر و الذي تكرر على لسان كل الشخصيات تقول إحدى الشخصيات
Ils sont nombreux ceux qui se trouve dans le même cas. C'est notre destin: Payer par Notre Corps l'avenir des autres.
اكثر شخيصة و جدتني متعاطف معها هي زنوبة او (عزيز) العابرة الجنسية تقول الشخصيةje ne passerai pas du garçon à la fille.je deviendrais la fille que je suis depuis toujours, bien avant que je ne vienne au monde" الشخصية نقلت لنا حياتها، و بأنها هي نتيجة لتنشئتها الإجتماعية، حيث انه/ها عاشت وسط سبع اخوات تقول الشخصية
7 fills + 1 garçon = 8 filles
1 frère + 7 sœurs = 8 sœurs
كما نقلت لنا الرواية الازدواجية التي تعيشها الشخصية وبأنها كما يقول اوريد بانه ستظل سجينة طفولتها ،كما نقلت لنا معاناتها النفسية قبل، أتناء و بعد عملية العبور تقول الشخصية
Suis-je une femme, complètement une femme ?
Non
Suis-je encore un homme ?
Non
Qui suis-je alors ?
Je ne regrette rien de ce que j'ai fait. Cette opération, je l'ai voulue. Menée jusqu'au bout. J'ai pensé à tout. Mais pas à l'essentiel : comment des habits et du maguillage, c'est quoi une femme ?
اجد بأنه عبد الله الطايع قد تمكن من اصال افكار، مشاعر، معانات هذه الشخصية، الرواية عموما تطرقت للعديد من القضايا، حرب الاندوشين و الإستعمار الفرنسي و ثأتير على بعض الشخصيات بالخصوص (زينب)، عالم الدعارة، العنصرية بالمحيط المغربي و كيف يؤثر نفسيا على الأشخاص، التنشئة الاجتماعية و كيف تؤثر في الحياة النفسية الأشخاص...

[Kamila Kunda · Rating 4 out of 5]

Abdellah Taïa in “A Country for Dying” created a story of a metamorphosis. Two Morrocan prostitutes in Paris, Zahira and Zannouba, reinvent themselved anew. In a way, every story of immigration is a story of reinvention. People escape from issues and other people that were oppressing them back where they come from, however a new reality often brings new traps, new entanglements, new dilemmas.

With great passion - for life, for love, for freedom, for a voice - Taïa paints the personalities and shifting identities of his characters. Zahira lives in an illusion of what love is, Zannouba is preparing for gender confirmation surgery, losing her former name Aziz behind. Mojtaba, a gay Iranian emigré, is on a go and Paris is just a station on his journey, not a destination. Their lives intertwine. I found it captivating how often the characters tried to forget the past but while being physically in Paris, their souls and their hearts were constantly travelling to Morocco or Iran, and yet they dreamt of other places, other illusions. There are glimpses of the colonial past here and there and I wish Taïa had touched upon it a bit more.

This novel, even though about women, reads at times like a very intimate diary. I feel Taïa’s emotions in it, I feel how connected he is to Zahira and Zannouba, how much they mean to him. It is a precious things - to be invited to the world the author created based on the worlds which exist. Beautiful, pulsating novel which is better felt than analysed and reviewed.

[Khulud Khamis · Rating 5 out of 5]

"So many people find themselves in the same situation. It is our destiny: To pay with our bodies for other people's future."

An exquisite, intense short novel of several intertwining condensed narratives, and smaller stories within the stories, from which different readers will take different experiences.
They are internal monologues full of pain, beauty, mystery, and also cruelty and brutality, embodying women's experiences.

Zahira is a prostitute in Paris who is drawn to the miserable and downtrodden. Her friend, Aziz, is transitioning from male to female. We meet Aziz before the operation and then after, with the name that Zahira choose for her, Zannouba. After the operation, Zannouba feels lost and confused, as this new physical body is completely new to her.

Motjaba, an Iranian revolutionary fleeing his country, spends a few days with Zahira. He leaves a letter with her to send for his mother, in which he tells her about his love for another man.
At the beginning of the novel we also read about Zahira's aunt, Zineb, who one day disappears. She comes back in the last part of the novel to tell her story.

Abdella Taïa عبد الله الطايع is a Moroccan writer and filmmaker living in Paris and writing in French. A number of his books are heavily autobiographical. He has been described as a "literary transgressor and cultural paragon." Taïa became the first openly gay Arab writer in 2006.

[Arielle Stern · Rating 4 out of 5]

J'aimerai toujours l'écriture d'Abdellah Taia. Il est une force poétique dans la littérature. Il parle d'identité, de lieu, de religion et de la tension entre chacun d'entre eux avec une telle complexité et une telle attention.

[Saeed · Rating 5 out of 5]

You either get it or you don’t. This book is truly touching and terrifying. 5 stars is not enough

[G.D.León · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un libro muy intimo donde cada personaje es un cuerpo incompleto que cuelga entre la memoria de su hogar y una tierra que no es suya
Dialogos con una sensibilidad preciosa, personajes que se buscan a si mismos mientras sueñan con huir de la tierra que les vendió la libertad, a sabiendas de no pertenecer ya a ningún lugar, de que dejaron de ser lo que su hogar crió

[Isabella Ayub · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,5

[Ana Rossetto · Rating 4 out of 5]

É um bom livro.

Mas acho que como "Aquele que é digno de ser amado" me atropelou por completo estava esperando a mesma sensação ao terminar esse tb.

[Maya Hartman · Rating 3 out of 5]

“We don’t change. We move forward. We go and, one day, things come together, align. Make sense. Or not.”

[Hester · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book as part of the year long #invisiblecities project2021 , reading books from Morocco, Argentina and Japan in January 2021 . My choices are limited to those translated into English .

This is a fantastic short read , compelling and disturbing , full of pain and tenderness . We are given a series of fragments and some disorientating conversations , where dispossession , abuse , colonialism and prejudice is experienced in the bodies of the four main characters . All are at odds with a judgemental and abusive society , all women or black or queer and all have to both survive their lives and dream of escape. The world of fantasy in film or the spirit world is never far away .

The opening pages had me at hello and I was swept along as the dream like chapters read like fables offering elusive reflections , pain , anger and fantasy as the dispossessed struggle to gain a footing, a meaning and, always, hope .

[max · Rating 3 out of 5]

This novel weaves together several stories, some of which are better than others. I like Zahira, the main character, and the gay Iranian refugee Mojtaba she meets. Their stories are sweet and beautifully written.

But I’m not a fan of Zannouba, the trans woman character, expressing how manly she still feels after bottom surgery or the implication that in transitioning she has lost her innocent inner child-self. Nor do I love the heavy emphasis on the Blackness of the misogynist character who decides to kill Zahira. Meh.

[Delia · Rating 3 out of 5]

A novel uncomfortable and tender in which all characters bond through sex and pain, even if they don't know each other.

[Mónica Sierra · Rating 3 out of 5]

No sé qué pensar. O, más bien, pienso muchas cosas a la vez y ninguna termina de sostenerse del todo. Un país para morir es un libro que hiere y que deja una impresión difícil de sacudir.

No es una lectura fácil. La crudeza de la historia es innegable. Zahira camina por París. Y París no la mira. O la mira solo cuando la necesita, cuando su cuerpo le es útil. En la noche, en los callejones, en las habitaciones donde los hombres entran y salen sin dejar rastro, de la manera más deshumanizante posible. Y a pesar de todo sigue. Sigue porque no hay otra opción, porque no hay un hogar al que volver, porque su país de origen también la negó. Todo en esta novela es huida y desarraigo. Los personajes se mueven entre fronteras, no solo físicas, sino internas, buscando algo que los reconozca, que los sostenga. La guerra, la pobreza, la colonización, la violencia: todo se mezcla en un tejido de dolor sin tregua. No hay descanso posible en este mundo que los margina, que los condena a la supervivencia en los márgenes de ciudades que nunca terminan de aceptarlos.

Y en medio de esto, en medio del desgaste, la mugre y la miseria, prevalece la humanidad, el amor y la esperanza. Hay encuentros breves, inesperados, casi milagrosos. Mojtaba aparece en la vida de Zahira como un paréntesis de pureza. Un joven iraní que huye, perseguido por su país, por su gobierno, por su propio destino. Zahira lo acoge un tiempo, sin esperar nada a cambio, hasta que él desaparece, sin previo aviso, sin despedidas. Tan solo una carta. La carta… Quizás uno de los momentos más conmovedores de toda la historia, junto con el principio, que narra la muerte del padre, y que me ha hecho llorar en cada página. Mojtaba escribe a su madre, y a su vez, escribe también a Zahira, a las dos mujeres que, de alguna forma, le han dado refugio. Y en esa carta plasma todos los dolores, todas las huidas: la guerra, la represión, la pérdida, la confesión de su homosexualidad, su amor perdido, el hombre al que nunca volverá a ver. Mojtaba se abre en la distancia porque quizás solo en la distancia se puede decir la verdad.

Al final, no hay respuestas. No hay respiro ni solución para los que sufren, para los que huyen, para los que quedan atrapados en sus propios cuerpos y en las cicatrices de su pasado. Pero en este relato de desolación, de exilio y de lucha, algo se queda. Quizás sea la fuerza de esos pequeños gestos, la capacidad de seguir a pesar de todo. Un país para morir es un país de los que nunca se rinden, porque en la persistencia, aunque sea en la más mínima forma, está la vida.

[dele · Rating 4 out of 5]

what did i think of the book?

honestly… i’m still not sure, the characters are so lonely and sad and live such tortured lives, i’ve learnt a lot from their experiences, no one seemed to have a happy ending or a happy life and such is the destiny for most of us i guess.

i enjoyed how they all had strength, a source that fueled their hope and determination, it’s necessary to have as we experience life.

i hope Zineb got to india, i hope Mojtaba lived in Stockholm safely and got to see Zahira and his mother one more time like he was certain he would, i hope Zannouba found the clarity she was desperate for… look at their hopefulness rubbing off on me.

[Dani Kass · Rating 5 out of 5]

wow, this is a stunning book. it's a really heartbreaking work about a handful of people who come to france from morocco, algeria and iran, searching and yearning and dreaming and hurting and always, struggling and loving. there's so much in here about patriarchy and sexuality and colonialism, that is just excellently done.

[Буаро · Rating 3 out of 5]

les thèmes de roman est: l'immigration et de la marginalisation à Paris. Le roman aborde la prostitution, la quête d'identité (notamment sexuelle et de genre avec la transformation d'Aziz en Zannouba), et la désillusion face au rêve occidental. C'est un portrait brutal de la solitude, du racisme, et de la recherche d'une liberté qui mène finalement à un "pays pour mourir".

[Ren Mooney · Rating 4 out of 5]

The writing style is so unique and has kind of an Annie Ernaux kind of feel. The story itself was well written and deeply emotional. It kind of felt a bit more timeless than taking place in 2010, felt like it might be a bit older. I’m interested in reading more from this author. 3.5/5 stars

[Miss_Cultura · Rating 4 out of 5]

3,75

Un libro muy crudo, duro, directo...La vida contada sin tapujos como una carta de despedida, como pensamiento dispersos...

[David Garcia Sánchez-león · Rating 5 out of 5]

Durisimo relato a la par que bello. Difícil de definir. Pequeñas historias cotidianas contadas con mucha belleza.

[Lena Kirchner · Rating 4 out of 5]

Much better than Arab Melancholia. The chapter about Motjaba broke me…. Crying at the beach.

[marta · Rating 2 out of 5]

definitivamente no me gusta taia ya está no pasa nada, me interesan las historias que podría contar pero no soporto su forma de escribir

[Hana · Rating 3 out of 5]

Read because ida downloaded on kindle - graphic, disturbing and writing that spins - didn’t feel compelled by the characters or the writing but the story

[Sara Touri El Mansouri · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lectura ágil e interesante. Prostitución, homosexualidad y transexualidad en un contexto donde la religión, en este caso musulmana, tiene un peso importante. También nos muestra la dureza que conllevan los procesos migratorios. Es un libro lleno de preguntas, reflexiones, miedos y deseos de los personajes.