Whew where do I start with this one?! This story follows two families in very different financial circumstances in Nigeria. Eniọlá, the son of a former teacher who lost his job, desperately wants to pursue an education while his family’s options dwindle. Wúràọlá, on the other hand, is a doctor from a wealthy family who is struggling to fulfill her family’s wishes of an advantageous marriage.
Adébàyọ̀’s style is to provide a slow start with a lot of buildup. But the way everything eventually comes together and the tension building on the page is just exquisite. She does so many things so well. I loved getting smaller sections from other characters’ perspectives, providing a fuller background to the present moment. The foils of the younger sisters to each of the main characters was brilliant and evoked so many emotions in me as a reader. There are a lot of messages here about class, education, politics, mental health, societal expectations, patriarchy, family, and ultimately, power.
*CW* Multiple explicit scenes of domestic violence are difficult to read, as well as the mindset of the woman in between the attacks, justifying it to herself to stay in the relationship.
This was a fine addition to my Algeria reading but I certainly wouldn’t recommend it as the only one to read. An interesting journey of a pied-noir family’s descendant going to Algeria to see where her family lived before they moved to France. I didn’t love the art style tbh and the title is terrible.
The Art of Losing follows three generations of a family from 1940s Algeria through France today. Zeniter’s writing is beautiful, though it feels like she’s trying too hard at times.
I loved the historical pieces depicting Ali as a powerful olive farmer in the period preceding the war for independence. This is a Kabyle community - a large Berber minority ethnic group with its own language and culture that I knew nothing about before reading this novel. As the war finds their small, remote community, Ali is forced to make a choice, which results in the family being forced to flee to France. The majority of the book seemed to focus on Ali’s son Hamid and his experiences growing up in France. This is where the book really shines. It’s a powerful depiction of the lives of immigrant families and communities, the hatred they face, the in-between-ness that children especially feel. Eventually the narrative shifts to Hamid’s daughter Naïma, who feels adrift in life, working at an art gallery in Paris and unaware of the specifics of her family’s history or why they fled Algeria.
I found the first two generations far more interesting than the third, but the story certainly benefits from seeing the impact of colonization, war, and immigration on another generation. (It should be said that Zeniter herself went to Algeria as an adult to find out more about her family, just as Naima does in the novel.) This book was a hit in France, winning two major awards, which I find fascinating as France still has an extremely fraught relationship with Algeria 👀
Ultimately an important story that I’m glad I read, especially prior to my trip to Algeria. While there, it was very clear that the emphasis is on the revolution and the glorification of those who fought to free the country from French colonization. What I appreciated about The Art of Losing is that it opens up history to be much longer than that and complicates the narrative of the war. No one is glamorous or righteous. People are complicated and, when forced to make decisions, are just trying to protect their families.
One pet peeve: the origin of the title was way too *hit you over the head.* I loved the title before we came to this part near the end of the book. As a reader I want to be trusted more to understand it on my own.
I picked this up in anticipation of my trip to Algeria and I am glad I did. Assia Djebar wrote these seven stories during the “Black Decade” in Algeria, the 1990s, when hundreds of thousands of Algerians were targeted in assassinations and what amounted to a civil war. I appreciated that these stories centered the voices and lives of women during this time. I also appreciated how she interweaves classical themes in Arab literature, like Scheherazade’s storytelling of One Thousand and One Nights, with the modern plots of her stories. This is a unique voice to pick up if you are trying to read more women in translation, but I wouldn’t start with this one if you are new to Algerian history. It’s a fantastic book to submerse yourself more in the 1990s if you already have a general understanding of the history up to that point.