Mektoub by Denis Soula (review)

SOULA, DENIS. Mektoub. Paris: Joëlle Losfeld, 2012. ISBN 978-2-07-246221-4. Pp. 121. 13,50 a. A statement by Goethe about acceptance versus mere tolerance appears in an epigraph before the narrative. The story unfolds in eight major sections, each titled alternatively with the names Claire or Jiordan. Like a collage, texts of various lengths are strategically positioned together, showcasing moments in family, relationships, work, and not sequenced in specific chronological order. Homage is paid to Bob Dylan, whose music, recalling the sixties and seventies, times of protest and counterculture, is redolent with political, philosophical, and occasionally literary allusions. The book is brimful of French slang, providing linguistic immersion in popular culture prevalent during the early years of the current century. Claire, an only child from a working-class family, describes herself as a person of instinct, caring little about analysis and preferring daydreaming. Even if she sees herself as an ordinary person, she is drawn to the unusual: “J’aime les gens et les situations eccentriques. Sans doute parce que je ne le suis pas” (14). We meet Claire at the time that she plans to leave her husband, as both of them have grown apart. Her memory recalls her early years, her life at home, family closeness, their Sunday outings. The loss of her father and its resultant void in her life are aptly summarized by one sentence on a blank page: “Mais il ne conna îtra jamais mes fils et ça me poignarde chaque fois que j’y pense” (21). Claire’s thinking is infused with lines from Dylan’s songs which mirror her thoughts and at the same time help her face her struggles. Jiordan, a musician from Nigeria, travels with various musical groups, just as his father did. His father had worked with some important musicians in the jazz world while his mother was an educated woman: “Elle savait lire et écrire l’anglais, elle travaillait” (45). At the close of a school day as he leaves after teaching music in a workshop to a group of elementary school children, Jiordan is accosted by the police and arrested before horrified parents, children, and school personnel. His visa had expired seventeen months ago. Without forethought, he confides his instruments to Claire, a parent standing nearby. A police officer pulls them out of her hands and hurls them to the ground, smashing them. We follow Jiordan to the detention center, witness the harsh living conditions and the wait for deportation. When an inmate sets fire, it spreads; he manages to escape. A fugitive, he seeks his friend’s café where by coincidence or destiny, he again meets Claire whom he accompanies to her departing train. He then barely extricates himself from a violent attack which includes police dogs. Seriously wounded, he returns to the café where Bébert, the owner, hides him and alerts Claire, who voluntarily shelters Jiordan, her son’s beloved music teacher. As she nurses him back to health, the two become lovers and prolong their idyll in a weekend vacation . On the drive home, their car is met by a highway patrol. Claire despairingly cries: “Putain, c’est pas vrai” (122) while Jiordan’s whispered lament is “Mektoub” or destiny in Arabic (122). The plot advances in short, well-focused chapters; protagonists are known from the inside: through ongoing internal dialogue with conversation as needed. The novel looks at the transient lives of illegal immigrants in France, a useful addition to studies of contemporary culture. Neumann University (PA) Maria G. Traub Reviews 1005 ...