Que la blessure se ferme by Tahar Ben Jelloun (review)

Reviews 265 Ben Jelloun, Tahar. Que la blessure se ferme. Paris: Gallimard, 2012. ISBN 978-207 -013734-3. Pp.137. 14 a. Ben Jelloun’s provocative title frames a series of disparate poems for seemingly diverse readers. The unevenness in the levels of language from poem to poem, from erudite to clichéd, compounded by the incongruence of the poems’ depth and complexity , create a spasmodic push and pull in time and place. The first poem,“Lumière sur lumière,” contemplates the death of Al-Hallaj, the Iranian Sufi mystic and martyr who lived from 858 to 922 A.D. Ben Jelloun draws parallels between Al-Hallaj and Jesus, as if to call attention to the similarities between the beliefs and peoples of the Middle East and the West. The contrast between the cities of Fès and Naples pays homage to the enduring dignity of Islam, whereas the excoriating description of one of the world’s oldest continuously-inhabited cities implicitly situates Christianity among Greek and Roman ruins. The next set of poems jolts from cruel musings of “le désamour”(71) to aging to love. Whereas the emotional intimacy of the interrogation “Que serais-je sans toi?” (71, 72) suggests disillusionment with marital love, ensuing questions eviscerate and accuse to the extent that this reader hears the embitterment and alienation of a disaffected immigrant. Similarly, the poem dedicated to his Down’s syndrome child,Amine, whose disorder is misunderstood or demeaned by others, and whose unique gifts pass unnoticed, resonates with the hurt and confusion invoked in the earlier imaging Al-Hallaj’s martyrdom for proclaiming oneness with truth. Ben Jelloun broods:“Il n’est pas comme les autres. Il est innocence éparse dans une société qui ment” (90). The afflicted child is an être solaire who can lead and heal: “Seul le destin illuminé par cette présence qui éloigne la douleur [...] Il montre le chemin parce qu’il est du mystère”(91). The uncomprehending masses cannot follow; instead, they reject the instrument of their salvation. Praise is matched with invective as the next poem “Sept milliards d’âmes” depicts a fallen mankind, whose only hope is allow for “[U]n bouquet de spiritualité. Un saint, un mendiant [...] Un poème”(97). Ben Jelloun would not be the first to opine that art and spirituality are one, but that reading misses his self-reference, for he himself is the poet and the displaced person.“Éloge de l’autre” brings the emotional turmoil of the exile back to the fore: “Demander l’asile est une offense / Une blessure avalée avec l’espoir qu’un jour / On s’étonnera d’être ici ou làbas ” (99). The exile seems forever relegated to otherness, and to forever relegate himself to otherness. The last poems read like La Rochefoucauld’s Maximes, the work which situated La Rochefoucauld among the men of letters of his time. Ben Jelloun’s “Paradoxes”seems like a deliberate attempt to place himself within the canon of Western literature. His musings invoke Montaigne, Descartes, Rimbaud, Spinoza, Cavafis, Sartre, Lautréamont, Kafka, Freud, Nietsche, inter alia. Though the least engaging of the collection,“Paradoxes” does question whether the immigrant will ever believe he has found home, and whether his psychic wound will ever heal. North Park University (IL) Jennifer Morrissey ...