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Transit
Une chronique universelle de la guerre et de l'exil, écrite avec ironie et humour.
176 pages, Hardcover
First published February 27, 2003
5 people are currently reading
151 people want to read
About the author
Abdourahman A. Waberi
33books17followersAbdourahman Waberi nació en la ciudad de Yibuti en la costa somalí francesa, actual República de Yibuti. Se fue a Francia en 1985 para estudiar literatura inglesa. Trabajó como consultor literario para Editions Le Serpent à plumes, París, y como crítico literario para Le Monde Diplomatique. Ha sido miembro del jurado internacional del Premio Lettre Ulysses para el Art of Reportage (Arte del Reportaje) en Berlín, Alemania (2003 y 2004).
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Displaying 1 - 24 of 24 reviews
January 7, 2013
Award winning Djibouti author, Abdourahman A. Waberi(now residing in France) has set himself the challenging task with his novel, Transit, published 2003 in French, and very recently translated into English by David Ball and Nicole Ball. Both have previously translated Waberi's highly satirical novel, . What are the challenges? If you know anything about Djibouti this list of questions will not come as a surprise: How to capture in a novel the complexity and the desolate conditions in the small African country of Djibouti? How to bring out the various impact on individuals and groups who are more like pawns within a political and economic international power game that Djibouti is trying to participate in? How to create a portrait of something of the "inner soul" of the people, their suffering and pain, but also their perseverance and search for happiness in a way that we as readers can relate to without feeling totally overwhelmed?
The novel's prologue introduces two Djibouti men in an immigration waiting area in Paris's Roissy (Charles de Gaulle) Airport: a young ex-soldier, Bashir, and Harbi, a middle-aged opposition intellectual. While they are waiting their minds turn back to what they have left behind... What follows are alternating monologues by Bashir and three members of Harbi's closest family: his French wife Alice, their son Abdo-Julien and Awaleh, Abdo-Julien's grandfather. Their distinct voices reflect their very different experiences and the resulting, often opposing perspectives on circumstances and realities. For example, Alice came to Djibouti as a happy young wife, who immediately fell in love with the beauty of the desert land surrounding Djibouti town while learning to adjust to a life so different from hers in France. In her monologue, she usually addresses her son to give him a better grounding in his double identity and his home. The grandfather's voice is an important link to history, ancestors and the spirit world. The young Abdo-Julien embarks on his own path.
Central and prominent is the voice of Bashir, the orphan boy with little education but a sharp wit and astute observation abilities. He gives an at times hilarious running commentary on the everyday life of the simple recruits like himself, mixed in with his views on the political intrigues and battles between powerful chiefs, politicians and the prominently present French and American soldiers: a portrait of the country and its ongoing challenges. Bashir's views are to the point, cynical, even if sometimes naïve; his language is made up of crude colloquialisms that are very difficult to translate and the translators have to be congratulated for their efforts to capture the style and meaning. Bashir is not easy to understand even then and it takes some patience to follow his story lines. He addresses the reader and is at pains to explain historical context as well as current events - at least as far as he understands both.
The four monologues stand each on their own, alternating at different frequencies, leaving it up to the reader to build the various strands into a more integrating whole. The Epilogue picks up some of those elements and introduces at least one substantial linkage, however, for me as a reader, other questions that I had carried with me, were left unanswered. In general, nonetheless, I think it is an important book with an unusual structural approach that matches the complexity of the subject matter. It should be of interest to anybody interested in the political realities of African's many border and power conflicts, and the Horn of Africa region and Djibouti in particular. The translators' Introduction is essential and very valuable to assist the reader's understanding.
This review is based on a review copy provided by the publisher. The views expressed in the review are mine.
The novel's prologue introduces two Djibouti men in an immigration waiting area in Paris's Roissy (Charles de Gaulle) Airport: a young ex-soldier, Bashir, and Harbi, a middle-aged opposition intellectual. While they are waiting their minds turn back to what they have left behind... What follows are alternating monologues by Bashir and three members of Harbi's closest family: his French wife Alice, their son Abdo-Julien and Awaleh, Abdo-Julien's grandfather. Their distinct voices reflect their very different experiences and the resulting, often opposing perspectives on circumstances and realities. For example, Alice came to Djibouti as a happy young wife, who immediately fell in love with the beauty of the desert land surrounding Djibouti town while learning to adjust to a life so different from hers in France. In her monologue, she usually addresses her son to give him a better grounding in his double identity and his home. The grandfather's voice is an important link to history, ancestors and the spirit world. The young Abdo-Julien embarks on his own path.
Central and prominent is the voice of Bashir, the orphan boy with little education but a sharp wit and astute observation abilities. He gives an at times hilarious running commentary on the everyday life of the simple recruits like himself, mixed in with his views on the political intrigues and battles between powerful chiefs, politicians and the prominently present French and American soldiers: a portrait of the country and its ongoing challenges. Bashir's views are to the point, cynical, even if sometimes naïve; his language is made up of crude colloquialisms that are very difficult to translate and the translators have to be congratulated for their efforts to capture the style and meaning. Bashir is not easy to understand even then and it takes some patience to follow his story lines. He addresses the reader and is at pains to explain historical context as well as current events - at least as far as he understands both.
The four monologues stand each on their own, alternating at different frequencies, leaving it up to the reader to build the various strands into a more integrating whole. The Epilogue picks up some of those elements and introduces at least one substantial linkage, however, for me as a reader, other questions that I had carried with me, were left unanswered. In general, nonetheless, I think it is an important book with an unusual structural approach that matches the complexity of the subject matter. It should be of interest to anybody interested in the political realities of African's many border and power conflicts, and the Horn of Africa region and Djibouti in particular. The translators' Introduction is essential and very valuable to assist the reader's understanding.
This review is based on a review copy provided by the publisher. The views expressed in the review are mine.
January 10, 2013
Award winning Djibouti author, Abdourahman A. Waberi(now residing in France) has set himself the challenging task with his novel, Transit, published 2003 in French, and very recently translated into English by David Ball and Nicole Ball. Both have previously translated Waberi's highly satirical novel, In the United States of Africa. What are the challenges? If you know anything about Djibouti this list of questions will not come as a surprise: How to capture in a novel the complexity and the desolate conditions in the small African country of Djibouti? How to bring out the various impact on individuals and groups who are more like pawns within a political and economic international power game that Djibouti is trying to participate in? How to create a portrait of something of the "inner soul" of the people, their suffering and pain, but also their perseverance and search for happiness in a way that we as readers can relate to without feeling totally overwhelmed?
The novel's prologue introduces two Djibouti men in an immigration waiting area in Paris's Roissy (Charles de Gaulle) Airport: a young ex-soldier, Bashir, and Harbi, a middle-aged opposition intellectual. While they are waiting their minds turn back to what they have left behind... What follows are alternating monologues by Bashir and three members of Harbi's closest family: his French wife Alice, their son Abdo-Julien and Awaleh, Abdo-Julien's grandfather. Their distinct voices reflect their very different experiences and the resulting, often opposing perspectives on circumstances and realities. For example, Alice came to Djibouti as a happy young wife, who immediately fell in love with the beauty of the desert land surrounding Djibouti town while learning to adjust to a life so different from hers in France. In her monologue, she usually addresses her son to give him a better grounding in his double identity and his home. The grandfather's voice is an important link to history, ancestors and the spirit world. The young Abdo-Julien embarks on his own path.
Central and prominent is the voice of Bashir, the orphan boy with little education but a sharp wit and astute observation abilities. He gives an at times hilarious running commentary on the everyday life of the simple recruits like himself, mixed in with his views on the political intrigues and battles between powerful chiefs, politicians and the prominently present French and American soldiers: a portrait of the country and its ongoing challenges. Bashir's views are to the point, cynical, even if sometimes naïve; his language is made up of crude colloquialisms that are very difficult to translate and the translators have to be congratulated for their efforts to capture the style and meaning. Bashir is not easy to understand even then and it takes some patience to follow his story lines. He addresses the reader and is at pains to explain historical context as well as current events - at least as far as he understands both.
The four monologues stand each on their own, alternating at different frequencies, leaving it up to the reader to build the various strands into a more integrating whole. The Epilogue picks up some of those elements and introduces at least one substantial linkage, however, for me as a reader, other questions that I had carried with me, were left unanswered. In general, nonetheless, I think it is an important book with an unusual structural approach that matches the complexity of the subject matter. It should be of interest to anybody interested in the political realities of African's many border and power conflicts, and the Horn of Africa region and Djibouti in particular. The translators' Introduction is essential and very valuable to assist the reader's understanding.
This review is based on a review copy provided by the publisher. The views expressed in the review are mine.
The novel's prologue introduces two Djibouti men in an immigration waiting area in Paris's Roissy (Charles de Gaulle) Airport: a young ex-soldier, Bashir, and Harbi, a middle-aged opposition intellectual. While they are waiting their minds turn back to what they have left behind... What follows are alternating monologues by Bashir and three members of Harbi's closest family: his French wife Alice, their son Abdo-Julien and Awaleh, Abdo-Julien's grandfather. Their distinct voices reflect their very different experiences and the resulting, often opposing perspectives on circumstances and realities. For example, Alice came to Djibouti as a happy young wife, who immediately fell in love with the beauty of the desert land surrounding Djibouti town while learning to adjust to a life so different from hers in France. In her monologue, she usually addresses her son to give him a better grounding in his double identity and his home. The grandfather's voice is an important link to history, ancestors and the spirit world. The young Abdo-Julien embarks on his own path.
Central and prominent is the voice of Bashir, the orphan boy with little education but a sharp wit and astute observation abilities. He gives an at times hilarious running commentary on the everyday life of the simple recruits like himself, mixed in with his views on the political intrigues and battles between powerful chiefs, politicians and the prominently present French and American soldiers: a portrait of the country and its ongoing challenges. Bashir's views are to the point, cynical, even if sometimes naïve; his language is made up of crude colloquialisms that are very difficult to translate and the translators have to be congratulated for their efforts to capture the style and meaning. Bashir is not easy to understand even then and it takes some patience to follow his story lines. He addresses the reader and is at pains to explain historical context as well as current events - at least as far as he understands both.
The four monologues stand each on their own, alternating at different frequencies, leaving it up to the reader to build the various strands into a more integrating whole. The Epilogue picks up some of those elements and introduces at least one substantial linkage, however, for me as a reader, other questions that I had carried with me, were left unanswered. In general, nonetheless, I think it is an important book with an unusual structural approach that matches the complexity of the subject matter. It should be of interest to anybody interested in the political realities of African's many border and power conflicts, and the Horn of Africa region and Djibouti in particular. The translators' Introduction is essential and very valuable to assist the reader's understanding.
This review is based on a review copy provided by the publisher. The views expressed in the review are mine.
April 13, 2022
Tę książkę wybrałam na moje pierwsze spotkanie z literaturą Dżibuti i nie była to łatwa lektura. Ta krótka powieść jest bardzo wymagająca - językowo, ale i narracyjnie. Waberi wprowadza kilku narratorów - każdy z nich w swoim rozdziale prowadzi monolog, wspominając przeszłość. Punktem wyjścia jest dwóch mężczyzn, którzy przypadkowo znajdują się na lotnisku w Paryżu. Jeden z nich to Bashir - prosty chłopak, sierota, który został najemnym żołnierzem. Jego opowieść naszpikowana jest slangiem, błędnymi nazwami, aluzjami - to było prawdziwe wyzwanie dla tłumacza. Inny mężczyzna natomiast to Harabi - intelektualista, którego wypowiedzi łączą się z monologami jego francuskiej żony oraz syna.
Ciąg dalszy:
Ciąg dalszy:
April 11, 2015
This is a review that reflects my personal beliefs.
This book is packed with information and tells a lot about Djibouti's post colonial history.
However
The author wants us to feel sorry for a man who talks about how great it was raping girls almost every time he speaks. I'm sorry but that is disgusting and I don't care what the situation is, there is no excuse for that. 1 star
This book is packed with information and tells a lot about Djibouti's post colonial history.
However
The author wants us to feel sorry for a man who talks about how great it was raping girls almost every time he speaks. I'm sorry but that is disgusting and I don't care what the situation is, there is no excuse for that. 1 star
December 13, 2014
Beautiful book. Often fiction can tell us more about something than academia. This novel, especially the epilogue, is an example of that. He writes in such a lucid way about migration and its effects.
December 31, 2017
Now available in translation. Fascinating exploration of the impact of civil war and political corruption on a fictional African state but presumably based on Djibouti. Not an easy read despite elements of black humour.
December 13, 2017
THE novel to read if you want to know about Djibouti - well translated but a little confusing with the 4 different narrators.
September 6, 2017
Recensione originale:
L’edizione originale di questo romanzo è stata pubblicata in Francia nel 2003. Il romanzo è il nono di Waberi, un autore che a vent’anni, nel 1985, lascia il suo Paese, Gibuti, per trasferirsi in Francia.
Ci ho messo un po� a capire bene dove volesse andare a parare questo romanzo e, in definitiva, di cosa parlasse. Vi sconsiglio di leggere la quarta di copertina dell’edizione inglese, che mi è capitata sotto gli occhi per caso: svela completamente il finale, così come fanno alcune recensioni che ho letto. Peccato.
All’inizio di questo brevissimo romanzo ci troviamo a Parigi, all’aeroporto Charles de Gaulle, dove incontriamo Bashir e Harbi. Alla fine vi torniamo, ma il resto del romanzo si svolge a Gibuti, grazie ai ricordi dei due uomini, che vengono da quel Paese.
Bashir ha cambiato il suo nome in Bin Laden, ma l’uomo che lo accompagna gli sconsiglia vivamente di dire questo in Francia. Invece secondo Bashir questo nome è “terrifico�. Veniamo dunque subito al modo di parlare di Bashir, che deve essere stato complicatissimo rendere in italiano. Bashir sa chiaramente parlare bene in francese, la lingua dei colonizzatori, ma parla un francese molto sgrammaticato e particolare. Waberi, nei capitoli dedicati a Bashir, ci regala un linguaggio del tutto parlato, senza alcuna inflessione di alcunché di scritto o, non sia mai, addirittura letterario. Bashir parla così come parlerebbe a un suo amico, né più e né meno.
Harbi invece è un intellettuale, ma lo incontriamo solo nel prologo e nell’epilogo.
Nel corpo del romanzo sentiamo la voce di Bashir (molto), di Abdo-Julien, figlio di Harbi, di Alice, la moglie bretone di Harbi, e di Awaleh, il padre di Harbi. Ognuno racconta la sua storia, che è anche la storia di Gibuti. Bashir parla più degli altri, con la sua tipica prepotenza da ragazzo e da ex-soldato. Bashir è un gradasso, e anche un delinquente, che non fa che raccontare della guerra, delle sue “gesta� come militare (stupri et similia), dei suoi atti da teppista o meglio da vero e proprio delinquente. Alice è andata a Gibuti per amore dell’Africa, e lì ha trovato l’amore di Harbi, e insieme hanno dato vita ad Abdo-Julien, che già nel nome porta in sé due culture, e che al momento in cui parla ha 17 anni. Awaleh parla poco, ma quando lo fa rievoca le tradizioni del suo Paese.
L’epilogo è quello che dà un senso al libro, ed è abbastanza bello, in quanto (ve lo posso dire senza svelarvi niente) parla di esilio, dell’esperienza di immigrato, dell’attesa di asilo. Molto attuale anche se è stato scritto quasi 15 anni fa.
Tuttavia, il libro non mi è piaciuto nemmeno un po�, sebbene appunto il finale lo redima abbastanza. Ma non a sufficienza da farmelo apprezzare. Non metto in dubbio che Waberi sia uno scrittore molto abile e dotato, anche se è difficile dirlo davvero quando si legge un libro in traduzione. Tuttavia i suoi cambi radicali di registro sono notevoli a livello stilistico, e questo si sente anche in traduzione. Ma la storia non mi ha appassionato e, a dire il vero, nonostante riconosca l’abilità dell’autore, non mi è piaciuto neanche lo stile. La storia sarebbe stata interessante se avesse davvero parlato di esilio e di migrazione, e a suo modo questo libro lo fa, ma appunto a suo modo. Inoltre non ha abbastanza profondità (forse anche a causa della brevità) per farci entrare in sintonia con i personaggi, per farceli capire davvero. Bashir è un personaggio spregevole. Alice è una sognatrice. Abdo-Julien è un ragazzino. Awaleh è un pilastro della memoria. Harbi è quello più realista di tutti. Tuttavia non c’� scavo nella psicologia di questi personaggi, se non forse in quella di Bashir, che come dicevo è quello a cui sono dedicati più capitoli. Di fatto, è un libro con molto potenziale, ma che risulta piatto e monodimensionale. Non basta un buon epilogo di poche pagine a fare un buon libro.
L’edizione originale di questo romanzo è stata pubblicata in Francia nel 2003. Il romanzo è il nono di Waberi, un autore che a vent’anni, nel 1985, lascia il suo Paese, Gibuti, per trasferirsi in Francia.
Ci ho messo un po� a capire bene dove volesse andare a parare questo romanzo e, in definitiva, di cosa parlasse. Vi sconsiglio di leggere la quarta di copertina dell’edizione inglese, che mi è capitata sotto gli occhi per caso: svela completamente il finale, così come fanno alcune recensioni che ho letto. Peccato.
All’inizio di questo brevissimo romanzo ci troviamo a Parigi, all’aeroporto Charles de Gaulle, dove incontriamo Bashir e Harbi. Alla fine vi torniamo, ma il resto del romanzo si svolge a Gibuti, grazie ai ricordi dei due uomini, che vengono da quel Paese.
Bashir ha cambiato il suo nome in Bin Laden, ma l’uomo che lo accompagna gli sconsiglia vivamente di dire questo in Francia. Invece secondo Bashir questo nome è “terrifico�. Veniamo dunque subito al modo di parlare di Bashir, che deve essere stato complicatissimo rendere in italiano. Bashir sa chiaramente parlare bene in francese, la lingua dei colonizzatori, ma parla un francese molto sgrammaticato e particolare. Waberi, nei capitoli dedicati a Bashir, ci regala un linguaggio del tutto parlato, senza alcuna inflessione di alcunché di scritto o, non sia mai, addirittura letterario. Bashir parla così come parlerebbe a un suo amico, né più e né meno.
Harbi invece è un intellettuale, ma lo incontriamo solo nel prologo e nell’epilogo.
Nel corpo del romanzo sentiamo la voce di Bashir (molto), di Abdo-Julien, figlio di Harbi, di Alice, la moglie bretone di Harbi, e di Awaleh, il padre di Harbi. Ognuno racconta la sua storia, che è anche la storia di Gibuti. Bashir parla più degli altri, con la sua tipica prepotenza da ragazzo e da ex-soldato. Bashir è un gradasso, e anche un delinquente, che non fa che raccontare della guerra, delle sue “gesta� come militare (stupri et similia), dei suoi atti da teppista o meglio da vero e proprio delinquente. Alice è andata a Gibuti per amore dell’Africa, e lì ha trovato l’amore di Harbi, e insieme hanno dato vita ad Abdo-Julien, che già nel nome porta in sé due culture, e che al momento in cui parla ha 17 anni. Awaleh parla poco, ma quando lo fa rievoca le tradizioni del suo Paese.
L’epilogo è quello che dà un senso al libro, ed è abbastanza bello, in quanto (ve lo posso dire senza svelarvi niente) parla di esilio, dell’esperienza di immigrato, dell’attesa di asilo. Molto attuale anche se è stato scritto quasi 15 anni fa.
Tuttavia, il libro non mi è piaciuto nemmeno un po�, sebbene appunto il finale lo redima abbastanza. Ma non a sufficienza da farmelo apprezzare. Non metto in dubbio che Waberi sia uno scrittore molto abile e dotato, anche se è difficile dirlo davvero quando si legge un libro in traduzione. Tuttavia i suoi cambi radicali di registro sono notevoli a livello stilistico, e questo si sente anche in traduzione. Ma la storia non mi ha appassionato e, a dire il vero, nonostante riconosca l’abilità dell’autore, non mi è piaciuto neanche lo stile. La storia sarebbe stata interessante se avesse davvero parlato di esilio e di migrazione, e a suo modo questo libro lo fa, ma appunto a suo modo. Inoltre non ha abbastanza profondità (forse anche a causa della brevità) per farci entrare in sintonia con i personaggi, per farceli capire davvero. Bashir è un personaggio spregevole. Alice è una sognatrice. Abdo-Julien è un ragazzino. Awaleh è un pilastro della memoria. Harbi è quello più realista di tutti. Tuttavia non c’� scavo nella psicologia di questi personaggi, se non forse in quella di Bashir, che come dicevo è quello a cui sono dedicati più capitoli. Di fatto, è un libro con molto potenziale, ma che risulta piatto e monodimensionale. Non basta un buon epilogo di poche pagine a fare un buon libro.
September 23, 2020
Reading the World - Djibouti
And another pointless read for the sake of this project :( . Of course, it's interesting to learn about unknown country and culture, but I've been just too bored to even dig deeper into the non-existent plot and unpack the historical, colonial luggage.
There is almost no connection between different points of view, I mean thematically. Perhaps if the author structured them as short stories, when each voice is a single self-contained tale, it would improve my overall impression?. I don't know,
And another pointless read for the sake of this project :( . Of course, it's interesting to learn about unknown country and culture, but I've been just too bored to even dig deeper into the non-existent plot and unpack the historical, colonial luggage.
There is almost no connection between different points of view, I mean thematically. Perhaps if the author structured them as short stories, when each voice is a single self-contained tale, it would improve my overall impression?. I don't know,
August 6, 2024
Rijetko kada mi se dogodi da ne dovršim knjigu, ali ovo je jedna od takvih. Knjiga apsolutno nema nikakve radnje. Iz perspektive nekoliko likova govori se o povijesti države Džibuti koja se nalazi na Rogu Afrike. Govori se o kolonijalnoj prošlosti, građanskom ratu u novije vrijeme, doživljaju države iz perspektive zapadnjaka (Francuskinje). Na prvu to zvuči zanimljivo, ali je sve toliko čudno napisano da čitatelju na kraju apsolutno ništa nije jasno.
July 3, 2019
If you're looking for an actual story and a plot, this is not your book. This book is divided into chapters written by different people about life in Djibouti. The back of the book explains more of the plot than the actual book does. For that reason, I had a hard time staying interested. But the writing was good and at times gave me chills.
January 21, 2025
It is well-written, o yes. Even if Bashir resembles a less well-developed copy of Sozaboy. But for me this is not a novel. It is a series of descriptive monologues offering different perspectives on Djibouti (I read the book in the English translation, sorry); there is no story, no plot, no events. I miss that. I found it pretty tedious reading.
July 24, 2020
Even though I didn’t particularly enjoy the book, it makes me want to research more about Djibouti. Maybe after I know more about the context of the book I will give it a re-read and see if I appreciate it more.
October 9, 2022
I'm going to give this four stars because, just because I walked away a little confused doesn't make it a bad book. It just means I need to take a few laps think a little and give it another shot. I'm pretty sure the second time around I will catch more.
July 3, 2024
This book was very interesting and certain chapters were very beautifully written. But, I was so confused I had to go back and reread a bunch of chapters, it was really hard for me to focus on this. Overall I think it was good and worth reading, but not an easy read at all.
December 2, 2023
Djibouti - Round the world reading challenge. Very disjointed
Read
June 13, 2024Djibouti
February 19, 2020
It's hard to understand what's happening in this novel; I failed as a reader enough, in fact, that I needed the preface and the blurb on the cover to make sense of it, and it's hard to appreciate the voices of the various narrators when it's unclear how they relate to each other, and what story is developing. Although actually it's not so hard to appreciate the inventive, vibrant "bad French" translated admirably (I think) into "bad English" of the child soldier Bashir, confusedly amoral, and victim of circumstances as are all the characters. The "circumstances" as Waberi describes Djibouti being civil war, corruption, state-sponsored/police violence, the legacy of French, English, Italian imperialism, and inadequate aid efforts. And the novel is about an uncertain migration to the West, and asks for sympathy for those traveling so.
Abdo-Julien, the doomed son, writes of Djibouti:
"My country's history in the annals of the continent? Barely room for a lowly footnote at the bottom of a page. Seventy thousand square miles of hatred and misery, my country of ergs and acacias."
Abdo-Julien, the doomed son, writes of Djibouti:
"My country's history in the annals of the continent? Barely room for a lowly footnote at the bottom of a page. Seventy thousand square miles of hatred and misery, my country of ergs and acacias."
July 10, 2016
A lyrical ode to the refugee experience
Beautiful and deeply saddening imagery come to life at the very same time. Unforgettable host of characters. Unique format makes the book tough to follow but is nonetheless refreshing. at times tough to understand without existing context on the region.
Beautiful and deeply saddening imagery come to life at the very same time. Unforgettable host of characters. Unique format makes the book tough to follow but is nonetheless refreshing. at times tough to understand without existing context on the region.
Read
November 7, 2019Each chapter title is the name of the person narrating their story. Even though I just read the translated edition, the distinct voices come through and you get to know the people by the way they use language.
For me reading this short book it was hard not to get mired in the misery and hopelessness.
For me reading this short book it was hard not to get mired in the misery and hopelessness.
June 30, 2021
3.5 rounded up. This is an unusual read in a non-linear style in several voices. I found instances of dark humor against a background of barbarism unsettling but ended up with a vivid picture of a country experiencing lawlessness.
Want to read
November 29, 2012Reviewed by
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April 4, 2016An uncomfortable read that inspires uncomfortable questions about the ultimate ethical responsibility for the horrors of war.
Full review:
Full review:
December 10, 2016
Nice to know this straight dude pathos is crosses culture
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