—Because learning the language, respecting the state institutions, assimilating the country’s culture by cherishing its famous authors, marching for the glory of the nation, all of that is nothing compared to swallowing raw minced meat with an egg yoke and sauces squashed in.***
Faïza Guène brings to us in this book, for which she benefitted from an Algerian Cultural Ministry Residency program, a story of the difficulties of second generation integration in France. Her character observation and humour, which I discovered in Bar Balto, is further developed here in ‘Men don’t Cry***’. The humour here is however of a much more bitter kind which initially disturbed me but in retrospect well serves the subject matter of families being stretched to breaking point and torn to pieces by the challenges of integration, put in Brexit terms the difference between hard integration and soft integration.
The story is told by the youngest child Mourad who is ten years old at the outset and tells us how his older sister Dounia rebels against her family in adolescence and one day leaves home never to return, the ‘hard integration’. He tells us of two other forms of integration, of his second sister Mina who accepts an arranged marriage and lives in France in an updated continuity of her parents way of life, and we then live Mourad’s coming of age and his decisions leading to a ‘softer integration’.
Years later as Mourad’s father suffers a stroke, he confides in Mourad his wish to see Dounia again before he dies. Mourad who then leaves his home in Nice to teach in the Paris suburbs meets up again with Dounia and the real subject of the book, the confrontation of the two visions of integration takes place. The role of the mother, wanting to control everything acting through emotional blackmail is shown:
—I thought again of my conversation this morning with my mother. I’d phoned the house just to see how things were?
—My heart is broken! Torn apart! I thought you were dead! I’m so dissapointed. Don’t you think I’m worth a phone call? Do you know that I sleep with your photo? The one where you wear a blue shirt and have your brace…I thought you understood the value of a mother…***
Dounia is drawn as a not particularly generous caricature of Fadela Amara, the founder of the French association ‘Ni Putes ni soumises’ translated into English as ‘Neither Whores nor Doormats’. The confrontation between views is brought to a head at a dinner party where Dounia’s politician companion argues with Mourad:
—Forbidding the veil at school seems to me to be totally justified! I can’t even imagine that that could be brought into question!
I was livid
—Its because you have a personal problem with the veil
—Not at all! I’ve a personal problem with those that stop women from being free!
—But that’s exactly what you do in forbidding the veil at school! You can’t say to people: “Be free in OUR manner, there is only one way to be free, it’s ours!” I find that absurd! And it doesn’t work! It creates a feeling of injustice! You say you’re defending women, have you thought of the number of women who have had to leave school because of this law! They have had to forget their ambitions, their only chance to get away from this very archaic system that you think you’re fighting…”***
An interesting, even dark story of the trials of everyday integration of an Algerian family in France, but most of the family issues are true of many integration stories I believe.
First Published in French as “Un homme, ça ne pleure pas” in 2014 by Fayard.