Silver And Blue Wrapping Paper

The bus in the town Yahia Belaskri

I hesitated for several minutes: "If you are looking for the rain" or "The Bus in the City"? I wish I pick the two novels, but my wallet was not of that opinion, he was not at all believe that I take one, but I often do not to my head, not to hear the alarm of the purse, especially when it comes to books and when supreme privilege, the author in front of me. It was October 28th last, at Passy Albarino, which are held every last Thursday of the month meetings Africa Paris.

So which to choose? Question to the author. He said a word about each, and a word weighed towards the former: "Poetry." Earlier this year, I had promised to give more room for poetry. So if, in the opinion of the author, one of the two novels was particularly bathed in poetry, it's all it takes to win my vote.

Liss and Yahia Belaskri.

In this first novel by the author, published in 2008, look no intrigue. Let yourself be carried away by just words. Words that gin memories. Memories that spring at the mercy of swings in the bus in which the narrator is. This bus crashes, restarts, slows, stops again, looks his way through the winding streets of the city are also opportunities for the narrator to get lost in the windings of memory or experience its present and past. Past and present look at each meet. But all things considered, they are but one: whether in the memories of the narrator or the landscape before him, a city that is his repugnant to him: it offers no future.

"The misery was great and general. Everywhere the same shadows, hunched, submissive, willing victims of fate. Everywhere the same despair pegged their rags. Everywhere the same confusion, the same misfortune. "

(The Bus in the City, p. 56)

Worse, the city devouring those and those who want to create opportunities for success. Wills occur, young people get up, start walking towards their dreams, but they are broken, with cruelty.

In this city

Youth is a crime.

Intelligence is a crime.

Beauty is a crime.

(pages 73-74)

are many who have wanted to do something for their country, their city, for his youth, as Dida, who wants to create drama school, like Samir, head full ideas for his country to know the progress as Toufik, as Alima and many others, but these impulses are stopped in their tracks. These are not just dreams, they are also the lives that are broken. Death, disappearance seems the only thing that the city distributes generously. The narrator has seen from all his relatives, friends, relatives, loved women ... all have been eaten by the ogre city.

The Bus in the city , a novel built in echoes. The horizon in this city of the Maghreb, seems hopelessly darkened, but the author evokes through writing poetry. The reader as the narrator seem to turn in circles, like the bus, which " revolved around the city without ever deflower . He turned around constantly from his injuries, like a vulture waiting for its prey apart. "(p. 122)

Very nice reading.

Belaskri Yahia, The Bus in the city , Vents d'ailleurs, 2008, 128 pages, 14 €.

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