Literature

«The Art of Losing: the art of successful bonding

4 reading minutes

written by Loris S. Musumeci · October 23, 2018 · 0 comment

«L’Art de perdre»: l’art de réussir à créer des liens

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Tuesday books - Loris S. Musumeci

«What do you think your girls are doing in the big cities? They say they're going away to study. But look at them: they wear pants, they smoke, they drink, they behave like whores. They've forgotten where they come from.»

Naïma is the heiress of a family history steeped in history. Her family, of Kabyle origin, arrived in France in the summer of «62, a cursed date according to her father Hamid, who hardly ever spoke to his daughters about Algeria. A cursed date, too, according to her own father, Ali, who advised his daughters never to mention the date of their arrival in France, especially in the presence of other Algerian nationals. The summer of »62 was in fact the time of arrival of the "harkis", Algerians who had chosen France over the FLN.

In spite of this choice, the welcome, from camp to camp, was austere and distrustful. Ali, who had wealth, abundance, honors and respect in his homeland, never really managed to integrate. For Hamid, it was assimilation, even beyond integration, that took place, to the point of rejecting his origins. For Naïma, a Frenchwoman among Frenchwomen, questions arise about the Algeria of her ancestors. She doesn't really feel attached to it, yet she needs to know, to shed light on a past that has remained in the darkness of her father's silence.

«That's also why both fiction and research are necessary, because they're all that's left to fill in the silences passed down between vignettes from one generation to the next.»

The art of non-judgment

Alice Zeniter's book is quite impressive at first glance. A 506-page pamphlet that falls heavily into your hands when you don't even know the author doesn't necessarily sound like the most enticing of activities. Especially since the title, The Art of lose,is not an easy read. The question then arises: between the story of the Harkis and a family history, how did the author manage to fill these pages? How, moreover, is it possible to navigate these pages without getting bored?

Alice Zeniter's first skill is her style: undeniably clear and pleasant. Through it, she articulates family history and national history without ever detaching them. The reader learns about the Harkis, the Algerian War, De Gaulle's speeches and more, without ever losing sight of Ali's sacrifices, Hamid's wanderings or Naïma's questions. More to the point, the link to history is made through the link to the family, brilliantly established by the writer.

Come to think of it, the method doesn't seem all that unusual. Many novels tell the story of a war, a people or a reconciliation through the eyes and existence of a fictional character. What is exceptional, however, or at the very least highly appreciable, is the way in which the story of the harkis, from Algeria to France, unfolds and evolves in symbiosis with the story of Ali and his descendants. Each of the three generations takes a different look at the same events and destinies. Each has its own generational filter.

As a result, Alice Zeniter demonstrates a humility and distance that tend to be rare, omitting any judgment regarding the life and practices of the ancestors. Patriarchal society and organized - in other words, forced - marriages are treated without condescension. Life in the Kabyle mountains is presented for what it was. There's no victimization either, or guilt-tripping of a France that could quickly be judged racist. Racism does exist, however. But it is shown through fiction with delicacy; and above all, it is not one-sided.

The art of creating links

Returning to the style, Alice Zeniter succeeds in creating a style of writing that can be considered «friendly». An affection and attachment is created with the protagonists across the generations, thanks to the author's simple writing style, which brings the reader into the intimacy of the family. There's nothing pompous about it, of course, but a careful, delicate handling of words that makes for a reading in finely honed French that never cuts the precious link between the family and the reader.

Alice Zeniter has finally understood that the family in the novel, like her own family history, resonates with everyone's family history. And so, when I met her, she left a dedication in my copy that only served to emphasize the link between the family and the novel. The Art of Losing had the art of succeeding: «For Loris, who knows that families are often migratory trajectories...»