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Tomorrow They Won't Dare to Murder Us
Winner of the Prix Goncourt for first novel, one of the most prestigious literary awards in France
A young revolutionary plants a bomb in a factory on the outskirts of Algiers during the Algerian War. The bomb is timed to explode after work hours, so no one will be hurt. But the authorities have been watching. He is caught, the bomb is defused, and he is tortured, tried in a day, condemned to death, and thrown into a cell to await the guillotine. A routine event, perhaps, in a brutal conflict that ended the lives of more than a million Muslim Algerians.
But what if the militant is a “pied-noir”? What if his lover was a member of the French Resistance? What happens to a “European” who chooses the side of anti-colonialism?
By turns lyrical, meditative, and heart-stoppingly suspenseful, this novel by Joseph Andras, based on a true story, was a literary and political sensation in France, winning the Prix Goncourt for First Novel and being acclaimed by Le Monde as “vibrantly lyrical and somber” and by the journal La Croix as a “masterpiece”.
A young revolutionary plants a bomb in a factory on the outskirts of Algiers during the Algerian War. The bomb is timed to explode after work hours, so no one will be hurt. But the authorities have been watching. He is caught, the bomb is defused, and he is tortured, tried in a day, condemned to death, and thrown into a cell to await the guillotine. A routine event, perhaps, in a brutal conflict that ended the lives of more than a million Muslim Algerians.
But what if the militant is a “pied-noir”? What if his lover was a member of the French Resistance? What happens to a “European” who chooses the side of anti-colonialism?
By turns lyrical, meditative, and heart-stoppingly suspenseful, this novel by Joseph Andras, based on a true story, was a literary and political sensation in France, winning the Prix Goncourt for First Novel and being acclaimed by Le Monde as “vibrantly lyrical and somber” and by the journal La Croix as a “masterpiece”.
144 pages, Paperback
First published May 4, 2016
59 people are currently reading
4545 people want to read
About the author
Joseph Andras
11 books75 followersJoseph Andras is the author of the novels De nos frères blessés and Kanaky. Awarded the Prix Goncourt for De nos frères blessés (Tomorrow They Won’t Dare to Murder Us), he refused the prize, explaining his belief that “competition and rivalry were foreign to writing and creation”.
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April 19, 2025
SUPPLIZIO
Rembrandt van Rijn: Accecamento di Sansone da parte dei filistei (particolare), 1636.
Sapevo che la Dichiarazione Universale dei Diritti dell'Uomo è un documento adottato dall'Assemblea generale delle Nazioni Unite nel 1948 a Parigi. È un documento importante, nato a Parigi, in Francia.
Quello che non sapevo è che fra i diritti dell’uomo c’è anche quello di torturare.
A leggere quello che la polizia e i militari francesi fecero a Fernand Iveton ad Algeri nel 1956 più che di tortura si potrebbe addirittura parlare di supplizio.
Eppure dovevo saperlo: in fondo è altrettanto noto che i francesi dell’OAS, e non solo loro, hanno insegnato ai militari sudamericani come si tortura professionalmente, i metodi migliori per ottenere informazioni usando la violenza fisica, martoriando il corpo, inclusi i primi “voli della morte” adottati proprio in Algeria (da elicotteri, più che aerei).
Luca Signorelli: Martirio di San Sebastiano, 1498.
Nel 1956 la Francia era da poco stata cacciata dall’Indocina, con la coda tra le gambe.
Non voleva certo che si ripetesse quella situazione anche in Algeria (il paese più grande dell’Africa). Per questo agiva con modi particolarmente brutali (e ottusi) insistiti. Quanto cito è riferito a dieci anni prima, il 1946:
Gente bruciata viva con la benzina, raccolti saccheggiati, corpi gettati nei pozzi, così, di brutto, li prendevano e li buttavano giù, o bruciati nei forni, donne, bambini, tutti, l’esercito ha sparato su qualsiasi cosa si muovesse per schiacciare la protesta. E poi non solo l’esercito, c’erano anche i coloni e i miliziani…
Dieric Bouts: Martirio di Sant’Ippolito, 1464.
Il caso di Fernand Iveton è parte della cronaca e della Storia. Era nato ad Algeri nel 1926, da madre spagnola e padre francese. Comunista, credeva nell’autodeterminazione dei popoli, e soprattutto credeva nella libertà. Piazzò una bomba dove non sarebbe mai passato nessuno: le vittime umane erano escluse dal suo attentato, voleva fare solo un botto, dimostrare qualcosa, come lanciare un grido.
La bomba fu individuata prima che esplodesse grazie a una segnalazione (delazione?). Immediatamente arrestato, torturato per giorni (scariche elettriche, anche col corpo cosparso di gel in modo che facesse più effetto e in superficie corporea maggiore, waterboarding, botte bastonate e cazzotti a go go, niente cibo, pochissima acqua…). Il processo viene presieduto da sette giudici militari. Dura meno di un giorno, una manciata di ore. Nonostante l’attentato fosse stato sventato, nonostante non ci fossero vittime, nonostante non avesse precedenti, fu condannato a morte. Chiedono la grazia: respinta (Mitterand era il ministro della Giustizia di quel governo). Sentenza eseguita per ghigliottina.
Dirck van Baburen: Incatenamento di Prometeo, 1623.
Joseph Andras amplia e arricchisce il racconto con storie del periodo antecedente, per esempio, l’incontro e l’innamoramento con Hélène, che si trasferisce ad Algeri col figlio che viene dal suo matrimonio precedente, sposa Fernand e vivono insieme tre anni e mezzo prima dell’esecuzione.
Andras adotta una scrittura percussiva, pressoché impietosa, mi sembra resa con efficacia dalla traduzione.
Il libro è il suo debutto nella narrativa ed esce nel 2016. Vince il Premio Goncourt per l’opera prima. Ma Andras rifiuta di andare a ritirarlo e lo respinge al mittente: non crede nella competizione tra opere artistiche. Nonostante ciò, la giuria glielo assegna comunque.
Tiziano Vecellio, Martirio di S.Lorenzo, 1547-59.
Rembrandt van Rijn: Accecamento di Sansone da parte dei filistei (particolare), 1636.
Sapevo che la Dichiarazione Universale dei Diritti dell'Uomo è un documento adottato dall'Assemblea generale delle Nazioni Unite nel 1948 a Parigi. È un documento importante, nato a Parigi, in Francia.
Quello che non sapevo è che fra i diritti dell’uomo c’è anche quello di torturare.
A leggere quello che la polizia e i militari francesi fecero a Fernand Iveton ad Algeri nel 1956 più che di tortura si potrebbe addirittura parlare di supplizio.
Eppure dovevo saperlo: in fondo è altrettanto noto che i francesi dell’OAS, e non solo loro, hanno insegnato ai militari sudamericani come si tortura professionalmente, i metodi migliori per ottenere informazioni usando la violenza fisica, martoriando il corpo, inclusi i primi “voli della morte” adottati proprio in Algeria (da elicotteri, più che aerei).
Luca Signorelli: Martirio di San Sebastiano, 1498.
Nel 1956 la Francia era da poco stata cacciata dall’Indocina, con la coda tra le gambe.
Non voleva certo che si ripetesse quella situazione anche in Algeria (il paese più grande dell’Africa). Per questo agiva con modi particolarmente brutali (e ottusi) insistiti. Quanto cito è riferito a dieci anni prima, il 1946:
Gente bruciata viva con la benzina, raccolti saccheggiati, corpi gettati nei pozzi, così, di brutto, li prendevano e li buttavano giù, o bruciati nei forni, donne, bambini, tutti, l’esercito ha sparato su qualsiasi cosa si muovesse per schiacciare la protesta. E poi non solo l’esercito, c’erano anche i coloni e i miliziani…
Dieric Bouts: Martirio di Sant’Ippolito, 1464.
Il caso di Fernand Iveton è parte della cronaca e della Storia. Era nato ad Algeri nel 1926, da madre spagnola e padre francese. Comunista, credeva nell’autodeterminazione dei popoli, e soprattutto credeva nella libertà. Piazzò una bomba dove non sarebbe mai passato nessuno: le vittime umane erano escluse dal suo attentato, voleva fare solo un botto, dimostrare qualcosa, come lanciare un grido.
La bomba fu individuata prima che esplodesse grazie a una segnalazione (delazione?). Immediatamente arrestato, torturato per giorni (scariche elettriche, anche col corpo cosparso di gel in modo che facesse più effetto e in superficie corporea maggiore, waterboarding, botte bastonate e cazzotti a go go, niente cibo, pochissima acqua…). Il processo viene presieduto da sette giudici militari. Dura meno di un giorno, una manciata di ore. Nonostante l’attentato fosse stato sventato, nonostante non ci fossero vittime, nonostante non avesse precedenti, fu condannato a morte. Chiedono la grazia: respinta (Mitterand era il ministro della Giustizia di quel governo). Sentenza eseguita per ghigliottina.
Dirck van Baburen: Incatenamento di Prometeo, 1623.
Joseph Andras amplia e arricchisce il racconto con storie del periodo antecedente, per esempio, l’incontro e l’innamoramento con Hélène, che si trasferisce ad Algeri col figlio che viene dal suo matrimonio precedente, sposa Fernand e vivono insieme tre anni e mezzo prima dell’esecuzione.
Andras adotta una scrittura percussiva, pressoché impietosa, mi sembra resa con efficacia dalla traduzione.
Il libro è il suo debutto nella narrativa ed esce nel 2016. Vince il Premio Goncourt per l’opera prima. Ma Andras rifiuta di andare a ritirarlo e lo respinge al mittente: non crede nella competizione tra opere artistiche. Nonostante ciò, la giuria glielo assegna comunque.
Tiziano Vecellio, Martirio di S.Lorenzo, 1547-59.
August 19, 2019
Τελικά, για όλους τους λαούς υπάρχει ένα παρελθόν που διχάζει και που για τα καθεστώτα, θα πρέπει με κάθε τρόπο να συμπιεστεί κάτω από τη συλλογική μνήμη, να είναι σαν να μην έχει υπάρξει ποτέ.
Το βιβλίο αυτό έβγαλε στην επιφάνεια ένα κομμάτι από αυτό το παρελθόν για τους Γάλλους, οπότε μοιραία χρησιμοποιήθηκε το δεύτερο όπλο της άρχουσας τάξης: Βραβεύσεις, δημοσιότητα, φώτα, ώστε να πούμε ότι όλα αυτά έγιναν "παλιά" από κάποιους "άλλους" και ότι ανήκουν σε ένα παρελθόν που πέρασε ανεπιστρεπτί.
Κατά τη γνώμη μου σωστά έκανε ο συγγραφέας και δεν αποδέχτηκε το βραβείο που κέρδισε.
Όσο για το βιβλίο, πρόκειται για ένα διήγημα συγκινητικό, φορτισμένο και προπαντός λυρικό. Δεν είναι κάτι που δεν έχουμε ξαναδεί - δηλαδή οι Έλληνες κομμουνιστές της μετεμφυλιακής περιόδου, με τις εκατοντάδες εκτελέσεις, τι να πουν? - αξίζει όμως να το δει κανείς για να διαβάσει την ιστορία ενός απλού ανθρώπου - όχι τρομοκράτη, όχι ήρωα - που το μόνο του έγκλημα ήταν ότι αγάπησε πολύ την ελευθερία.
Το βιβλίο αυτό έβγαλε στην επιφάνεια ένα κομμάτι από αυτό το παρελθόν για τους Γάλλους, οπότε μοιραία χρησιμοποιήθηκε το δεύτερο όπλο της άρχουσας τάξης: Βραβεύσεις, δημοσιότητα, φώτα, ώστε να πούμε ότι όλα αυτά έγιναν "παλιά" από κάποιους "άλλους" και ότι ανήκουν σε ένα παρελθόν που πέρασε ανεπιστρεπτί.
Κατά τη γνώμη μου σωστά έκανε ο συγγραφέας και δεν αποδέχτηκε το βραβείο που κέρδισε.
Όσο για το βιβλίο, πρόκειται για ένα διήγημα συγκινητικό, φορτισμένο και προπαντός λυρικό. Δεν είναι κάτι που δεν έχουμε ξαναδεί - δηλαδή οι Έλληνες κομμουνιστές της μετεμφυλιακής περιόδου, με τις εκατοντάδες εκτελέσεις, τι να πουν? - αξίζει όμως να το δει κανείς για να διαβάσει την ιστορία ενός απλού ανθρώπου - όχι τρομοκράτη, όχι ήρωα - που το μόνο του έγκλημα ήταν ότι αγάπησε πολύ την ελευθερία.
September 6, 2021
4,5*
Se chego ao final de um livro sabendo previamente como termina, porque se trata de uma história verídica, e ainda assim fico transtornada, creio que ele cumpriu o seu objectivo na perfeição.
Em “Dos Nossos Irmãos Feridos”, Joseph Andras, que venceu e recusou o prémio Goncourt, conta o percurso de Fernand Iverton, um operário revolucionário que foi o único branco condenado à morte durante a guerra de independência da Argélia.
A Argélia de amanhã é o seu país, o país em que o colonialismo não passará de uma má recordação, um parêntese funesto na narrativa da exploração do homem pelo homem, o país onde os Árabes não terão de curvar a espinha, o país onde o Estado será soberano e independente de França.
Até ao dia da execução, 11 de Fevereiro de 1957, temos acesso a tudo o que aconteceu anteriormente: a colocação da bomba que não deflagrou, a detenção, todo o tipo de torturas imagináveis...
O que Fernand ignora é que o secretário-geral da polícia de Argel, Paul Teitgen, fez saber claramente, há duas horas, que proibia que lhe tocassem – Teitgen havia sido deportado e torturado pelos alemães, e não entendia que a polícia, a sua polícia, a polícia da França por que se havia batido, a França da República, de Voltaire, de Hugo, de Clemenceau, a França dos Direitos do homem, dos direitos do Homem, nunca soube onde devia colocar a maiúscula, que essa França, a França, pudesse por sua vez praticar a tortura.
...o julgamento, a condenação, o recurso, a força da opinião pública, a espera pelo indulto presidencial.
O ambiente lá fora é terrível. Tresanda, se me permite a expressão, a 'pogrom'. Toda a gente o quer lapidar.
Em paralelo, Andras traz-nos episódios que dão conta da relação de Fernand com a mulher, Hélène.
Pensa nela, como não pode impedir-se de fazer todos os dias. Junta incessantemente as peças difusas da história deles, como se fosse necessário, entre aquelas paredes, arrumá-la para lhe conferir um sentido, nesta merda cinzenta, lâmpada no tecto, camas manchadas por antigos detidos, latrina partilhada a três, dar-lhe uma direcção, um contorno firme, grosso, traço a giz ou a carvão. (...) Fernand reúne os pedaços que a sua memória lhe devolve, com mais ou menos resistência, a fim de formar um bloco, um tijolo de amor, o único capaz de, perante um futuro incerto, esmagar os ossos e os maxilares dos seus carrascos.
“Dos Nossos Irmãos Feridos” foi escrito num estilo fluido e despretensioso, mas o lirismo polvilhado aqui e acolá, sobretudo nos 'flashbacks', adensa-se no desfecho, tornando-o um crescendo extremamente poderoso.
A cashbá puxa o céu para ela, os gritos e os iuius, fio ininterrupto. Fazem-no avançar em direcção ao carrasco: este tem posta uma baclava e Fernand ignora que aquele homem, a quem apelidam de “Senhor de Argel”, também se chama Fernand. O carrasco, ao ouvir o nome do condenado na boca do capelão, quase tem um sobressalto. Como se a morte tomasse finalmente forma, depois de todos aqueles que decapitou com uma mão das mais profissionais, por via de um nome que o remete brutalmente para a sua humanidade comum.
Se chego ao final de um livro sabendo previamente como termina, porque se trata de uma história verídica, e ainda assim fico transtornada, creio que ele cumpriu o seu objectivo na perfeição.
Em “Dos Nossos Irmãos Feridos”, Joseph Andras, que venceu e recusou o prémio Goncourt, conta o percurso de Fernand Iverton, um operário revolucionário que foi o único branco condenado à morte durante a guerra de independência da Argélia.
A Argélia de amanhã é o seu país, o país em que o colonialismo não passará de uma má recordação, um parêntese funesto na narrativa da exploração do homem pelo homem, o país onde os Árabes não terão de curvar a espinha, o país onde o Estado será soberano e independente de França.
Até ao dia da execução, 11 de Fevereiro de 1957, temos acesso a tudo o que aconteceu anteriormente: a colocação da bomba que não deflagrou, a detenção, todo o tipo de torturas imagináveis...
O que Fernand ignora é que o secretário-geral da polícia de Argel, Paul Teitgen, fez saber claramente, há duas horas, que proibia que lhe tocassem – Teitgen havia sido deportado e torturado pelos alemães, e não entendia que a polícia, a sua polícia, a polícia da França por que se havia batido, a França da República, de Voltaire, de Hugo, de Clemenceau, a França dos Direitos do homem, dos direitos do Homem, nunca soube onde devia colocar a maiúscula, que essa França, a França, pudesse por sua vez praticar a tortura.
...o julgamento, a condenação, o recurso, a força da opinião pública, a espera pelo indulto presidencial.
O ambiente lá fora é terrível. Tresanda, se me permite a expressão, a 'pogrom'. Toda a gente o quer lapidar.
Em paralelo, Andras traz-nos episódios que dão conta da relação de Fernand com a mulher, Hélène.
Pensa nela, como não pode impedir-se de fazer todos os dias. Junta incessantemente as peças difusas da história deles, como se fosse necessário, entre aquelas paredes, arrumá-la para lhe conferir um sentido, nesta merda cinzenta, lâmpada no tecto, camas manchadas por antigos detidos, latrina partilhada a três, dar-lhe uma direcção, um contorno firme, grosso, traço a giz ou a carvão. (...) Fernand reúne os pedaços que a sua memória lhe devolve, com mais ou menos resistência, a fim de formar um bloco, um tijolo de amor, o único capaz de, perante um futuro incerto, esmagar os ossos e os maxilares dos seus carrascos.
“Dos Nossos Irmãos Feridos” foi escrito num estilo fluido e despretensioso, mas o lirismo polvilhado aqui e acolá, sobretudo nos 'flashbacks', adensa-se no desfecho, tornando-o um crescendo extremamente poderoso.
A cashbá puxa o céu para ela, os gritos e os iuius, fio ininterrupto. Fazem-no avançar em direcção ao carrasco: este tem posta uma baclava e Fernand ignora que aquele homem, a quem apelidam de “Senhor de Argel”, também se chama Fernand. O carrasco, ao ouvir o nome do condenado na boca do capelão, quase tem um sobressalto. Como se a morte tomasse finalmente forma, depois de todos aqueles que decapitou com uma mão das mais profissionais, por via de um nome que o remete brutalmente para a sua humanidade comum.
December 10, 2024
Lest we forget........
In my case it was not a case of forgetting but a great lacuna of not knowing. I've never heard of Fernand Iveton and his affair. I never put the jigsaw puzzle together. Oh I knew that Algeria's release from the French colonial yoke was violent but that was it, no more details. Nothing else we grew up being taught, no other 'pieces' in our daily news fodder. So this sentence from Mr Andras drove the point home:
So thank you Mr Andras for bringing this to my attention, for giving me other pieces of the puzzle of our current situation. We live together across this blue sea and I for one do not know what it really means when a French President shakes the hand of his Algerian counterpart, I do not know about the blood split and covered.
Andras gives us his fictionalised account of the life of the Communist militant Fernand Iveton, who was the only European executed during the Algerian War because of his commitment and his actions with the National Liberation Front (Algeria).
Andras writes with immediacy, his alternating of what Fernand does and what happens to him to Fernand's story with Helene gives different perspective to the whole story. Fernand becomes a person. Even the paragraphs in French, Arabic, English, although confusing to me, created a sense of 'overwhelming' by what is happening which was appropriate at that time in the story.
Seeing this picture of Fernand and Helene I thought of how easy it is to loose our facade, our labels, and become something else. In this photo Fernand and Helene look nicely put together, just like my father and mother in their photos of that time period. But Fernand was made known to the public not with these photos but with photos taken after his arrest and torture, so stripped of any kind of dignity whatsoever. So then very easy to label differently, 'dirty', 'unkept', 'terrorist'. Narrative is controlled by the ones who have access to showers and good clothing.
An ARC gently given by author/publisher through Netgalley in return for a review.
In my case it was not a case of forgetting but a great lacuna of not knowing. I've never heard of Fernand Iveton and his affair. I never put the jigsaw puzzle together. Oh I knew that Algeria's release from the French colonial yoke was violent but that was it, no more details. Nothing else we grew up being taught, no other 'pieces' in our daily news fodder. So this sentence from Mr Andras drove the point home:
"Well, so: the day France celebrated victory over the Germans, I don't know how many Muslims, thousands, more, were being massacred in the country, at Setif, at Guelma."
So thank you Mr Andras for bringing this to my attention, for giving me other pieces of the puzzle of our current situation. We live together across this blue sea and I for one do not know what it really means when a French President shakes the hand of his Algerian counterpart, I do not know about the blood split and covered.
Andras gives us his fictionalised account of the life of the Communist militant Fernand Iveton, who was the only European executed during the Algerian War because of his commitment and his actions with the National Liberation Front (Algeria).
Andras writes with immediacy, his alternating of what Fernand does and what happens to him to Fernand's story with Helene gives different perspective to the whole story. Fernand becomes a person. Even the paragraphs in French, Arabic, English, although confusing to me, created a sense of 'overwhelming' by what is happening which was appropriate at that time in the story.
Seeing this picture of Fernand and Helene I thought of how easy it is to loose our facade, our labels, and become something else. In this photo Fernand and Helene look nicely put together, just like my father and mother in their photos of that time period. But Fernand was made known to the public not with these photos but with photos taken after his arrest and torture, so stripped of any kind of dignity whatsoever. So then very easy to label differently, 'dirty', 'unkept', 'terrorist'. Narrative is controlled by the ones who have access to showers and good clothing.
An ARC gently given by author/publisher through Netgalley in return for a review.
January 21, 2019
Εν έτει 2016, ο πρωτοεμφανιζόμενος στα γαλλικά γράμματα Joseph Andras αρνείται να δεχτεί το βραβείο Goncourt, επισημαίνοντας τα εξής:
'Ευχαριστώ ειλικρινά όσους βρήκαν κάποιο ενδιαφέρον σε αυτό το βιβλίο. Το βραβείο ωστόσο δεν μπορώ να το δεχτώ. Ο ανταγωνισμός και η αντιπαλότητα φαντάζουν στα μάτια μου έννοιες ξένες προς τη γραφή και τη δημιουργία. Η λογοτεχνία, όπως την αντιλαμβάνομαι, νοιάζεται κυρίως για την ανεξαρτησία της και μένει μακριά από βάθρα, τιμές και προβολείς. Ας μη θεωρηθούν αλαζονικές ή αυθάδεις οι φράσεις αυτές, θέλουν να δηλώσουν απλώς τη βαθιά μου επιθυμία να μείνω στο κείμενο, στις λέξεις, στα ιδεώδη. Στην καταπνιγμένη φωνή ενός εργάτη και αγωνιστή της κοινωνικής και πολιτικής ισότητας»'.
Πέραν της αυταπόδεικτης σεμνότητας που απηχεί η άρνηση του νεαρού συγγραφέα να αποδεχθεί ένα από τα πιο σημαντικά βραβεία της γαλλικής λογοτεχνίας, άξια χωριστής αναφοράς είναι η έμμεση υπόμνηση του Ζοζέφ Αντράς ότι με το βιβλίο του αποτίνει φόρο τιμής στον Φερνάν Ιβτόν (1926 – 1957), τον αγωνιστή που αντιπάλεψε με το καθεστώς, επιζητώντας την εθνική ανεξαρτησία της Αλγερίας και την ισότητα του λαού της, αλλά τη φωνή του κατέπνιξε η (αιμοδιψής) κοινή γνώμη.
Γεννήθηκε στο Αλγέρι, από Γάλλο πατέρα και Ισπανίδα μητέρα. Εργάτης, φίλος του Μετώπου Εθνικής Απελευθέρωσης της Γαλλίας, κομμουνιστής. Στα τριάντα του χρόνια τοποθετεί βόμβα σ’ ένα εγκαταλελειμμένο κτίριο στο εργοστάσιο φυσικού αερίου, όπου δούλευε. Σκοπός του είναι η διαμαρτυρία. Και η επιλογή, τόσο του τόπου τοποθέτησης του εκρηκτικού μηχανισμού, όσο και του χρόνου της προσδοκώμενης έκρηξης, διασφαλίζει πως ανθρώπινη ζωή δεν θα κινδυνεύσει.
Αλλά η αστυνομία εντοπίζει τη βόμβα κι ο αγωνιστής Ιβτόν οδηγείται στην φυλακή. Τον βασανίζουν. Τα ένστολα κτήνη προσπαθούν να αποσπάσουν πληροφορίες, και ο Ιβτόν, παρ' όλη την ηρωική αντιμετώπιση της βαρβαρότητας που επιδεικνύει η κρατική καταστολή, λυγίζει. Το στρατοδικείο, εντωμεταξύ, αποφασίζει να επιβάλει την εσχάτη των ποινών. Τι κι αν η βόμβα δεν εξερράγη ποτέ; Τι κι αν εκ των πραγμάτων δεν μπορούσε να θέσει σε κίνδυνο ανθρώπινες ζωές; Η κοινή γνώμη τον έχει καταδικάσει ήδη, κι οι πρόθυμοι ηλίθιοι θα ακολουθήσουν.
Έκλεισα το βιβλίο με δάκρυα στα μάτια. Αλλά τα σκούπισα, αμέσως μόλις συνειδητοποίησα ότι στη μνήμη των ‘πληγωμένων’ αυτών αδελφών μας δεν προσήκουν δάκρυα αλλά υψωμένες γροθιές.
'Ευχαριστώ ειλικρινά όσους βρήκαν κάποιο ενδιαφέρον σε αυτό το βιβλίο. Το βραβείο ωστόσο δεν μπορώ να το δεχτώ. Ο ανταγωνισμός και η αντιπαλότητα φαντάζουν στα μάτια μου έννοιες ξένες προς τη γραφή και τη δημιουργία. Η λογοτεχνία, όπως την αντιλαμβάνομαι, νοιάζεται κυρίως για την ανεξαρτησία της και μένει μακριά από βάθρα, τιμές και προβολείς. Ας μη θεωρηθούν αλαζονικές ή αυθάδεις οι φράσεις αυτές, θέλουν να δηλώσουν απλώς τη βαθιά μου επιθυμία να μείνω στο κείμενο, στις λέξεις, στα ιδεώδη. Στην καταπνιγμένη φωνή ενός εργάτη και αγωνιστή της κοινωνικής και πολιτικής ισότητας»'.
Πέραν της αυταπόδεικτης σεμνότητας που απηχεί η άρνηση του νεαρού συγγραφέα να αποδεχθεί ένα από τα πιο σημαντικά βραβεία της γαλλικής λογοτεχνίας, άξια χωριστής αναφοράς είναι η έμμεση υπόμνηση του Ζοζέφ Αντράς ότι με το βιβλίο του αποτίνει φόρο τιμής στον Φερνάν Ιβτόν (1926 – 1957), τον αγωνιστή που αντιπάλεψε με το καθεστώς, επιζητώντας την εθνική ανεξαρτησία της Αλγερίας και την ισότητα του λαού της, αλλά τη φωνή του κατέπνιξε η (αιμοδιψής) κοινή γνώμη.
Γεννήθηκε στο Αλγέρι, από Γάλλο πατέρα και Ισπανίδα μητέρα. Εργάτης, φίλος του Μετώπου Εθνικής Απελευθέρωσης της Γαλλίας, κομμουνιστής. Στα τριάντα του χρόνια τοποθετεί βόμβα σ’ ένα εγκαταλελειμμένο κτίριο στο εργοστάσιο φυσικού αερίου, όπου δούλευε. Σκοπός του είναι η διαμαρτυρία. Και η επιλογή, τόσο του τόπου τοποθέτησης του εκρηκτικού μηχανισμού, όσο και του χρόνου της προσδοκώμενης έκρηξης, διασφαλίζει πως ανθρώπινη ζωή δεν θα κινδυνεύσει.
Αλλά η αστυνομία εντοπίζει τη βόμβα κι ο αγωνιστής Ιβτόν οδηγείται στην φυλακή. Τον βασανίζουν. Τα ένστολα κτήνη προσπαθούν να αποσπάσουν πληροφορίες, και ο Ιβτόν, παρ' όλη την ηρωική αντιμετώπιση της βαρβαρότητας που επιδεικνύει η κρατική καταστολή, λυγίζει. Το στρατοδικείο, εντωμεταξύ, αποφασίζει να επιβάλει την εσχάτη των ποινών. Τι κι αν η βόμβα δεν εξερράγη ποτέ; Τι κι αν εκ των πραγμάτων δεν μπορούσε να θέσει σε κίνδυνο ανθρώπινες ζωές; Η κοινή γνώμη τον έχει καταδικάσει ήδη, κι οι πρόθυμοι ηλίθιοι θα ακολουθήσουν.
Έκλεισα το βιβλίο με δάκρυα στα μάτια. Αλλά τα σκούπισα, αμέσως μόλις συνειδητοποίησα ότι στη μνήμη των ‘πληγωμένων’ αυτών αδελφών μας δεν προσήκουν δάκρυα αλλά υψωμένες γροθιές.
June 9, 2025
I read this book in one intense sitting, I was so focused that I spooked my cat when I finally closed the proverbial book (I was reading on my phone so there was no actual book to close) and got up and he almost fell off the bed (Link would very much so appreciate if you felt sorry for him).
This book wrecked me and I don't know what to do with all the feelings (I'll let you know if I ever figure it out). Can't recommend enough.
Edited to add: I read the English translation of this book because I bought it without realizing it was a book in translation from a language I do speak (French), Verso Books was having a sale and I probably bought like 30 books that day, so while I have not read the original work I can say that the translated work was quite good.
This book wrecked me and I don't know what to do with all the feelings (I'll let you know if I ever figure it out). Can't recommend enough.
Edited to add: I read the English translation of this book because I bought it without realizing it was a book in translation from a language I do speak (French), Verso Books was having a sale and I probably bought like 30 books that day, so while I have not read the original work I can say that the translated work was quite good.
July 25, 2017
As an Example
Algeria. A crime, a trial, a verdict, long weeks in jail, execution. Sound familiar? No, this is not L'Étranger but the real-life case of Fernand Iveton, a communist activist and the only European to be executed in connection with the ultimately successful FLN campaign against French colonialism in North Africa. Camus himself attempted to intercede and plead for clemency. But all appeals were unsuccessful, not because of the magnitude of his crime—the bomb he planted was only symbolic and too small to hurt anyone, and he was arrested before it could go off—but because the government wished to make an example. François Mitterand, the justice minister at the time, came to regret his decision, and cited it as one of the reasons why he abolished the death penalty when he became President in 1981. Joseph Andras gave a similar motivation for his novel: to right a wrong knowingly perpetrated by the French state.
The short book, a mere 140 pages, proceeds in alternating chapters. One series moves from November 1956 to February 1957, beginning with Fernand Iveton waiting in the rain to pick up his bomb, and taking him through his arrest, interrogation, and imprisonment. It is difficult reading, partly because of its subject matter—Fernand is tortured for days, for example, by a combination of electricity and waterboarding—partly because of its style, which jumps around without warning between Fernand himself, other activists in the movement, and his wife. Andras freely acknowledges that the facts in these sections come mainly from the book Pour l'exemple, l'affaire Fernand Iveton by Jean-Luc Einaudi, though he arranges them with the sensibility of a novelist, not an historian.
Alternate chapters go back several years in time to Fernand's meeting with the woman who would become his wife, Hélène. Daughter of a Polish émigré, and better educated than Fernand, she recognizes the strength of his convictions which arise simply from his love of people and belief in fair treatment for all. But beyond justifying Fernand's political beliefs, these chapters work by suffusing the story with color and light. The first chapter, in Algeria, opens in a paltry drizzle that does not have the honesty of a proper rainfall but soaks you just the same. The second, in France, begins with the River Marne "stretching its green tongue to the blue peace of the sky." These chapters tell a human story, a love story between two individuals who hardly believe they are worthy of each other. There is a lovely scene where Hélene and Fernand are staying with a poor relative in Paris; he sleeps on the hard floor, not knowing that she wants him in bed with her, but is too shy to tell him.
I read this book over three days, 20 pages the first, then 40, then 80. The acceleration was due largely to these alternate chapters, and the growing feeling that this was not a terrorist, nor a martyr for principle, but simply a human being, showing his humanity in the only way he could. Gradually, the novel took me over. It echoed the book I read just before it, for example, The Red Collar by Jean-Christophe Rufin, whose simple hero also meets a better-read woman, and whose actions also expose the shameful side of French nationalism. Only today I was reading a friend's review of a novel that used pop songs to anchor the action to its period; her observation opened my ears, as it were. The most moving part of the whole novel for me was not anything that Andras described, but a pop song, Kalou, that Fernand would sing to himself in prison. I listened to it on YouTube sung by Yvette Giraud; it is a cheesy thing, hopelessly dated. But as I came to the words that Andras quoted, something got to me. Sentimental or not, this was the music of its time and place, sixty years ago. What happened was real, and the canned emotions of the song reflect real feelings, hopes never attained, love that endured. There were tears in my eyes.
Some footnotes. "Joseph Andras" is the pseudonym of a young writer known only from a single photograph that may or may not be real. With this book, he won the Prix Goncourt du Premier Roman in 2016. It would have been the second in a row for his publisher, Actes Sud, both for novels dealing with Algeria; last year's winner was Kamel Daoud's take on Camus, Meursault, contre-enquête. Three days later, however, Andras wrote declining the prize, on the grounds that the competition game was antithetical to the spirit of literary creation and the moral intent of his writing. Perhaps it was the same purity principle that led him to do something else in this novel that I have never seen before: include some two dozen phrases in Arabic, not transliterated but in Arabic script, and certainly not translated. I assume this will remain the case when the book appears in English translation, as it surely must.
Algeria. A crime, a trial, a verdict, long weeks in jail, execution. Sound familiar? No, this is not L'Étranger but the real-life case of Fernand Iveton, a communist activist and the only European to be executed in connection with the ultimately successful FLN campaign against French colonialism in North Africa. Camus himself attempted to intercede and plead for clemency. But all appeals were unsuccessful, not because of the magnitude of his crime—the bomb he planted was only symbolic and too small to hurt anyone, and he was arrested before it could go off—but because the government wished to make an example. François Mitterand, the justice minister at the time, came to regret his decision, and cited it as one of the reasons why he abolished the death penalty when he became President in 1981. Joseph Andras gave a similar motivation for his novel: to right a wrong knowingly perpetrated by the French state.
The short book, a mere 140 pages, proceeds in alternating chapters. One series moves from November 1956 to February 1957, beginning with Fernand Iveton waiting in the rain to pick up his bomb, and taking him through his arrest, interrogation, and imprisonment. It is difficult reading, partly because of its subject matter—Fernand is tortured for days, for example, by a combination of electricity and waterboarding—partly because of its style, which jumps around without warning between Fernand himself, other activists in the movement, and his wife. Andras freely acknowledges that the facts in these sections come mainly from the book Pour l'exemple, l'affaire Fernand Iveton by Jean-Luc Einaudi, though he arranges them with the sensibility of a novelist, not an historian.
Alternate chapters go back several years in time to Fernand's meeting with the woman who would become his wife, Hélène. Daughter of a Polish émigré, and better educated than Fernand, she recognizes the strength of his convictions which arise simply from his love of people and belief in fair treatment for all. But beyond justifying Fernand's political beliefs, these chapters work by suffusing the story with color and light. The first chapter, in Algeria, opens in a paltry drizzle that does not have the honesty of a proper rainfall but soaks you just the same. The second, in France, begins with the River Marne "stretching its green tongue to the blue peace of the sky." These chapters tell a human story, a love story between two individuals who hardly believe they are worthy of each other. There is a lovely scene where Hélene and Fernand are staying with a poor relative in Paris; he sleeps on the hard floor, not knowing that she wants him in bed with her, but is too shy to tell him.
I read this book over three days, 20 pages the first, then 40, then 80. The acceleration was due largely to these alternate chapters, and the growing feeling that this was not a terrorist, nor a martyr for principle, but simply a human being, showing his humanity in the only way he could. Gradually, the novel took me over. It echoed the book I read just before it, for example, The Red Collar by Jean-Christophe Rufin, whose simple hero also meets a better-read woman, and whose actions also expose the shameful side of French nationalism. Only today I was reading a friend's review of a novel that used pop songs to anchor the action to its period; her observation opened my ears, as it were. The most moving part of the whole novel for me was not anything that Andras described, but a pop song, Kalou, that Fernand would sing to himself in prison. I listened to it on YouTube sung by Yvette Giraud; it is a cheesy thing, hopelessly dated. But as I came to the words that Andras quoted, something got to me. Sentimental or not, this was the music of its time and place, sixty years ago. What happened was real, and the canned emotions of the song reflect real feelings, hopes never attained, love that endured. There were tears in my eyes.
Some footnotes. "Joseph Andras" is the pseudonym of a young writer known only from a single photograph that may or may not be real. With this book, he won the Prix Goncourt du Premier Roman in 2016. It would have been the second in a row for his publisher, Actes Sud, both for novels dealing with Algeria; last year's winner was Kamel Daoud's take on Camus, Meursault, contre-enquête. Three days later, however, Andras wrote declining the prize, on the grounds that the competition game was antithetical to the spirit of literary creation and the moral intent of his writing. Perhaps it was the same purity principle that led him to do something else in this novel that I have never seen before: include some two dozen phrases in Arabic, not transliterated but in Arabic script, and certainly not translated. I assume this will remain the case when the book appears in English translation, as it surely must.
June 7, 2017
Βαθμολογία: 9/10
Το βιβλίο κυκλοφόρησε στα ελληνικά τον Οκτώβριο του 2016 και αμέσως μου τράβηξε την προσοχή, χάρη στην περίληψη της ιστορίας και στο γεγονός ότι κέρδισε το βραβείο Γκονκούρ για πρωτοεμφανιζόμενο συγγραφέα (με τον Ζοζέφ Αντράς να μην το αποδέχεται!). Όμως δεν το αγόρασα τότε, γιατί είχα αυτό το ηλίθιο κόλλημα με τον συνδυασμό τιμής και αριθμού σελίδων για βιβλία συγγραφέων που δεν έχω ξαναδιαβάσει. Μικρό και ακριβούτσικο; Περιμένω να πέσει η τιμή του.
Αλλά πλέον την έχω κόψει αυτή την κακή συνήθεια. Αρχές Μαΐου αγόρασα το βιβλίο (μαζί με άλλα δυο μικρά και σε σχέση με το μέγεθός τους ακριβούτσικα βιβλία - ένα του Φαζαρντί και ένα του Λε Κορ-, τα οποία και πραγματικά απόλαυσα), και επιτέλους σήμερα το διάβασα μονορούφι. Ξετρελάθηκα! Μιλάμε για ένα χειμαρρώδες μυθιστόρημα, που σε τόσες λίγες σελίδες καταφέρνει να περάσει τόσα νοήματα, τόσα συναισθήματα, τόσα πράγματα που άλλοι συγγραφείς θα χρειάζονταν τις τριπλάσιες σελίδες για να το καταφέρουν. Την ιστορία δεν την λες και πρωτότυπη: Ποιος δεν έχει ξαναδιαβάσει βιβλίο με πρωταγωνιστή έναν "τρομοκράτη"-πολιτικό κρατούμενο που περιμένει να εκτελεστεί για τις πράξεις του; Ή μια ιστορία που βασικό θέμα είναι ο κρατικός αυταρχισμός και ο αγώνας απλών ανθρώπων για την ελευθερία;
Όμως ο τρόπος που χειρίζεται το θέμα ο συγγραφέας, η γραφή του, αυτή η χειμαρρώδης αφήγηση, ο συνδυασμός λυρικότητας και ωμής πραγματικότητας, είναι που κάνουν αυτό το βιβλίο ιδιαίτερο και μοναδικό. Σίγουρα είναι μια από τις μεγάλες φετινές εκπλήξεις (με την έννοια ότι δεν περίμενα να διαβάσω ένα πεντάστερο βιβλίο). Επίσης είναι ένα βιβλίο που μ΄έκανε να αναζητήσω περισσότερες πληροφορίες για την Αλγερία και τον αγώνα για την ανεξαρτησία της.
Υ.Γ. Όσον αφορά την ελληνική έκδοση, είναι φυσικά εξαιρετική!
Το βιβλίο κυκλοφόρησε στα ελληνικά τον Οκτώβριο του 2016 και αμέσως μου τράβηξε την προσοχή, χάρη στην περίληψη της ιστορίας και στο γεγονός ότι κέρδισε το βραβείο Γκονκούρ για πρωτοεμφανιζόμενο συγγραφέα (με τον Ζοζέφ Αντράς να μην το αποδέχεται!). Όμως δεν το αγόρασα τότε, γιατί είχα αυτό το ηλίθιο κόλλημα με τον συνδυασμό τιμής και αριθμού σελίδων για βιβλία συγγραφέων που δεν έχω ξαναδιαβάσει. Μικρό και ακριβούτσικο; Περιμένω να πέσει η τιμή του.
Αλλά πλέον την έχω κόψει αυτή την κακή συνήθεια. Αρχές Μαΐου αγόρασα το βιβλίο (μαζί με άλλα δυο μικρά και σε σχέση με το μέγεθός τους ακριβούτσικα βιβλία - ένα του Φαζαρντί και ένα του Λε Κορ-, τα οποία και πραγματικά απόλαυσα), και επιτέλους σήμερα το διάβασα μονορούφι. Ξετρελάθηκα! Μιλάμε για ένα χειμαρρώδες μυθιστόρημα, που σε τόσες λίγες σελίδες καταφέρνει να περάσει τόσα νοήματα, τόσα συναισθήματα, τόσα πράγματα που άλλοι συγγραφείς θα χρειάζονταν τις τριπλάσιες σελίδες για να το καταφέρουν. Την ιστορία δεν την λες και πρωτότυπη: Ποιος δεν έχει ξαναδιαβάσει βιβλίο με πρωταγωνιστή έναν "τρομοκράτη"-πολιτικό κρατούμενο που περιμένει να εκτελεστεί για τις πράξεις του; Ή μια ιστορία που βασικό θέμα είναι ο κρατικός αυταρχισμός και ο αγώνας απλών ανθρώπων για την ελευθερία;
Όμως ο τρόπος που χειρίζεται το θέμα ο συγγραφέας, η γραφή του, αυτή η χειμαρρώδης αφήγηση, ο συνδυασμός λυρικότητας και ωμής πραγματικότητας, είναι που κάνουν αυτό το βιβλίο ιδιαίτερο και μοναδικό. Σίγουρα είναι μια από τις μεγάλες φετινές εκπλήξεις (με την έννοια ότι δεν περίμενα να διαβάσω ένα πεντάστερο βιβλίο). Επίσης είναι ένα βιβλίο που μ΄έκανε να αναζητήσω περισσότερες πληροφορίες για την Αλγερία και τον αγώνα για την ανεξαρτησία της.
Υ.Γ. Όσον αφορά την ελληνική έκδοση, είναι φυσικά εξαιρετική!
March 30, 2022
2022 marks 60 years since the end of the Algerian War (1954-1962), breaking the colonial yoke with France and gaining independence.
Several books have been published in recent years taking a closer look at this period through a fictionalized lens, and many are making or have made their way into English translation.
• Tomorrow They Won't Dare to Murder Us by Joseph Andras, translated from the French by Simon Leser, 2016/2021.
TOMORROW is a fast-paced novella that adds dimension to real-life headlines. It follows the fateful story of Fernand Iveton, a "pied noir", European-descent Algerian who planted a bomb in Algiers in 1956. The bomb was intentionally set to go off when no one was in the building, and to cause minor structural damage - but to make a strong statement about Algerian independence, specifically by a "European" sympathizer with the Algerian cause.
It is specifically this last line that changes the trajectory of the (true) story. The colonial police and judiciary could not stand for a French Algerian to be anti-colonial...
The story unfolds in two timelines, beginning with the bomb plot, but then back tracking to tell Iveton's story, interspersed with his detention, trial, and sentencing.
Intriguing for the first few chapters, but it wasn't until the midpoint where I felt truly invested in the story, and continued to read straight through. The time shifts may have contributed to this, or the translation report style, not sure.
Andras' debut was well received and awarded, and he has another book now (Kanaky) about anti-colonial resistance in New Caledonia. So intrigued to read that one, and I do hope that this book is translated too.
TOMORROW was a revelatory read about the decolonization period in North Africa / Maghreb.
Several books have been published in recent years taking a closer look at this period through a fictionalized lens, and many are making or have made their way into English translation.
• Tomorrow They Won't Dare to Murder Us by Joseph Andras, translated from the French by Simon Leser, 2016/2021.
TOMORROW is a fast-paced novella that adds dimension to real-life headlines. It follows the fateful story of Fernand Iveton, a "pied noir", European-descent Algerian who planted a bomb in Algiers in 1956. The bomb was intentionally set to go off when no one was in the building, and to cause minor structural damage - but to make a strong statement about Algerian independence, specifically by a "European" sympathizer with the Algerian cause.
It is specifically this last line that changes the trajectory of the (true) story. The colonial police and judiciary could not stand for a French Algerian to be anti-colonial...
The story unfolds in two timelines, beginning with the bomb plot, but then back tracking to tell Iveton's story, interspersed with his detention, trial, and sentencing.
Intriguing for the first few chapters, but it wasn't until the midpoint where I felt truly invested in the story, and continued to read straight through. The time shifts may have contributed to this, or the translation report style, not sure.
Andras' debut was well received and awarded, and he has another book now (Kanaky) about anti-colonial resistance in New Caledonia. So intrigued to read that one, and I do hope that this book is translated too.
TOMORROW was a revelatory read about the decolonization period in North Africa / Maghreb.
February 11, 2024
In the fortress of our bodies
May our ideal live on
Mingled with your blood
So that tomorrow they won’t dare,
They won’t dare to murder us.
A novelisation of the true story of Fernand Iveton — a “pied-noir” Communist who acted against the ruling colonial government during Algeria’s first civil war — Tomorrow They Won’t Dare to Murder Us is a remarkable act of witnessing of shameful historical events. Although short, this wasn’t a quick read for me: between heart-stopping depictions of torture, a frustrating show trial, and intermittent discussions of the societal issues at play, there was a lot to digest here and I took my time with it. Incidentally: I understand that the author’s name, Joseph Andras, is considered a pseudonym, and when this novel won the prestigious Prix Goncourt (for a first novel), “Andras” refused to accept it, stating that prizes distract from the making of art (and as his next book, Kanaky, concerned another real man’s fight against France’s continuing occupation of New Caledonia, Andras appears to be committed to important work, and perhaps anonymity is vital to that). This is a meaningful act of witnessing, incredibly well written, and I am grateful that this exists (and that I was alerted to its existence; thank you, Joy!)
All of his torturers sound the same, Fernand can’t distinguish between their voices anymore: similar timbre, just a lot of noise, goddamn hertz. What Fernand does not know is that the general secretary of police in Algiers, Paul Teitgen, made it explicitly clear, two hours ago, that he forbade anyone from touching the suspect. Teitgen had been deported and tortured by the Germans during the war. He could not understand why the police, his police, that of the France for which he’d fought, the France of the Republic, Voltaire, Hugo, Clemenceau, the France of human rights, of Human Rights (he was never sure when to capitalize), this France, la France, would use torture as well. No one here had taken any notice: Teitgen was a gentle soul, a pencil pusher offloaded from the metropolis just three months ago. He had brought his dainty ways along in his little suitcase, you should’ve seen, duty, probity, righteousness, ethics even — ethics my ass, he knows nothing about this place, nothing at all, do what you have to do with Iveton and I’ll cover for you, or so the chief had decided without hesitation. You can’t fight a war with principles and boy-scout sermons.
Fernand Iveton, a pied-noir — of European descent — Algerian Communist, was sympathetic to the indigenous side in the Algerian Civil War: thinking of it as more of a class war than a true struggle for independence, it was because Iveton loved France, and its ideals of “liberté, égalité, fraternité”, that he joined the militant National Liberation Front in order to gain the attention of the ruling class. Not willing to actually hurt anyone, however, he did agree to plant a small bomb in an unused shed at the factory where he worked (set to go off after hours); but the authorities were watching the NLF and the bomb was recovered beforehand and Iveton was arrested, tortured, and charged with a capital offence.
The writing flits around between characters (note that the second passage I quoted moves between three different people in one paragraph), and chapters alternate between those detailing Iveton’s experience as an activist (from taking possession of the bomb onward through his imprisonment and trial) and chapters that depict his time in France (receiving treatment for TB) where he met the woman who would become his wife, Hélène. Andras contrasts harrowing accounts of electrocution and waterboarding with a truly sweet love story, and in either timeline, striking nature writing can occur at any time: The River Marne sticks out a green tongue to the sky’s peaceful blue…The moon yawns, its white breath a veil to the darkness. A star-formed meshwork — thousands of little keys opening the night…Green wavelets lapping on a mossy stone, the shapes of yellow snakes. Iveton does have several conversations that outline the class struggle that he believes he is participating in, and through incidental details (the lynching of any nearby “Arabs” whenever there’s an attack on a member of the ruling class, the fact that Iveton is given twice as many blankets and opportunities to wash as compared to his indigenous cellmates, etc), Andras clearly makes the anti-colonial case: Iveton seems to have been fighting on the right side of history.
He thinks of her every day. He cannot keep from doing it. Cannot keep from picking up the scattered pieces of their story, as if he had to put them in order between these walls, give them a meaning in this gray shithole, bulb on the ceiling, bunk stained by former inmates, one toilet between three. Give them a direction, a solid outline, thick, drawn in chalk or charcoal. Three and a half years together: one with the other, one through and for the other. Fernand collects whatever pieces his memory more or less readily restores to him, to form a brick — a cinderblock of love alone capable, in the face of an uncertain future, to break the bones and jaws of his tormentors.
Hélène.
The love story helps to make Iveton feel like a real and relatable person, and although from the beginning it’s clear that the authorities want to “make an example” of him, I did not previously know Iveton’s ultimate fate and there was much narrative tension as his case played out. Algeria would eventually gain its independence, Sartre and Camus would write about Iveton’s treatment in their day, an anonymous correspondent would pen the verses that inspired the title of this novel, and François Mitterrand — who had been Interior Minister during the conflict — would eventually attempt to atone for his draconian stance on Algerian freedom-fighters when he became President of France in 1981. In the face of “the silence of the State” over the years, Andras brings attention here to a voice that refuses to fade into oblivion and I am enlarged for having encountered both the author and his subject. Wonderful, if hard, read.
March 4, 2024
“Yaralı Dostlarımıza” okuyanın ruhunu yaralayan, içini acıtan, öfkenin anlamını ortaya koyan bir roman, daha ziyade gerçek bir olayın edebi anlatımı. 11.02.1957’de giyotinle idam edilen bir Fransız’ın, Cezayir Savaşı sırasında içlerinde Adalet Bakanı François Mitterrand’ın da bulunduğu Fransız adaleti tarafından infaz edilen tek Avrupalı olan Fernand Iveton’un katlini anlatan bir çeşit ağıt.
Roman bittikten sonra düşündüm; Vichy hükümetini, tek kurşun atmadan Paris’i Nazilere bırakan Fransızları, Almanlardan sıkılınca direnişe geçen Mİtterrand gibi Makyavelistleri ve dünyada hiç bitmeyecek olan adaletsizlikleri, haksızlıkları, sömürüyü, özgürlük ve insanca yaşamak için canlarından olan canları…
Mutlaka okuyun, Joseph Andras’ın ilk romanını.
Roman bittikten sonra düşündüm; Vichy hükümetini, tek kurşun atmadan Paris’i Nazilere bırakan Fransızları, Almanlardan sıkılınca direnişe geçen Mİtterrand gibi Makyavelistleri ve dünyada hiç bitmeyecek olan adaletsizlikleri, haksızlıkları, sömürüyü, özgürlük ve insanca yaşamak için canlarından olan canları…
Mutlaka okuyun, Joseph Andras’ın ilk romanını.
January 11, 2019
"يجب أن نقطع مع هذا النظام، نخلص الجزائر من هؤلاء الملوك الصغار ونؤسس نظاما جديدا على قاعدة شعبية، من العمال العرب والأوروبيين، مع بعض، الناس البسطاء، الصغار والمنبوذون من كل السلالات متحدون كي يسقطوا قطاع الطرق الذين يغرمونهم ويضطهدونهم."
كان هذا ما يؤمن به فرنان إيفتون، العامل إبن العامل البروليتاري ومندوب نقابة بالكونفدرالية العامة للعمال، قرأ كثيرا لماركس كما عاش وسط حي شعبي في العاصمة وعرف المحبة الحقيقية، كما عرف الأخوة. لا أعتقد أن فرنان إيفتون (ويجب التشديد هنا على أن إيفتون تنطق ب I لا Y) قد تخيل نفسه يوما مناضلا حقيقيا، وأقصد هنا: أن تتحول أفكاره من الشجب والرفض والحلم إلى الفعل والتحرك على أرض الواقع، مع الإبقاء طبعا على جزئية الحلم، الحلم بأخوية تجمع الفرنسيين والجزائريين في هذه البلاد، أن يعيش الكل تحت مظلة واحدة تنصف الجميع. لم يؤمن بالجزائر كمقاطعة فرنسية، بل أمن بجزائر حرة مستقلة.
يختار جوزيف أندراس أن يقدم لنا فرنان الذي تجاهلت قصته الجهات الرسمية والشعبية في الجزائر، على خطين زمنيين، يفصل بينهما إغتيال صديقه الأوروبي الجزائري هنري مايو، والذي قرر الإلتحاق بصفوف الحزب الشيوعي الجزائري بعد أن هرب شاحنة مليئة بالأسلحة والقنابل اليدوية، هنري صديق الطفولة والأخ الذي لم تلده أمه (كما يعتبره فرنان)، مصرعه هو ما سيحرك فرنان بإتجاه الكفاح المسلح. مسلح وعنيف نعم، لكن لن يكون هذا العنف موجها إلى المدنيين والعزل. في عالم أخر نرى فرنان الساخر، الكوميدي، الذي سيعيش حالة حب مع إمرأة إسمها هيلين، تعرف عليها في باريس وشاركها أفكاره عن الحب والحياة وعن حقوق الإنسان والعرب خاصة في الجزائر، شاعرية ساحرة في هذه الأجواء التي يقدمها جوزيف نتعرف بها على فرنان قبل أن تتغير حياته بالكامل.
نرى الإرتباك الواضح على فرنان وهو يستلم أول قنبلة موقوتة سيزرعها داخل المصنع الذي يعمل به، حتى تنفجر ليلا بينما المصنع خالي من العمال، عمل يستدف المنشئات الإستعمارية، عنيف لكنه رمزي، يقصد به الصخر والحديد لا البشر وأرواحهم، هو يفهم هذا لكن النظام الإستعماري الذي سيقبض عليه قبل إنفجار القنبلة (والتي سيتم تفكيكها) لن يتفهم هذا.
في أحد مخافر الشرطة الفرنسية بالعاصمة التي سيتم إقتياد فرنان إاليها فور إلقاء القبض عليه، قصد إستنطاقه حتى يدلي بما يعرفه عن قنبلة أخرى سيتم وضعها بعد ساعتين، إضافة إلى أسامي رفاقه وموقع المخبر الذي تمت بين جدرانه تركيب هذه القنابل. هذه الرغبة المستعجلة جعلت الشرطة الفرنسية تعمل على تعذيب فرنان بكافة الوسائل من الضرب والسب والشتم إلى الإغراق و الكهرباء. ساعات متواصلة من الجوع والإرهاق والتعب لم تنتهي إلى بإستنطاقه، بعد أن تحول سده لقطعة فحم من أثار حرق الكهرباء التي إلتهمت كل جسده.
عملية التعذيب والحكم الإستعجالي بالإعدام والذي سيصدر بحق إيفتون خلال عشر أيام من القبض عليه، في محاكمة إستعراضية كان الغرض منها ترويع وإنذار كل أوروبي يفكر ولو لمجرد التفكير في الإنضمام إلى هذا الحراك أو حتى دعمه معنويا. كانت إختبارا قاسيا لفرنسا دولة الحقوق والمثل العليا، كانت قضية رأي عام جاءت في وقت تفجيرات عديدة بالعاصمة، رأس ستطير لإسكات غضب الأوروبيين داخل الجزائر وفي نفس الوقت ترويع من يتجرأ منهم على السير وراء جبهة التحرير. ومهما حاول فرنان الدفاع عن نفسه بتيان نيته الحقيقية من وراء هذا العمل والرمزية التي تحمله، شرح أفكاره الشيوعية ونضاله من أجل فرنسا القيم نفسها، من أجل المساوة بين العرب والفرنسيين، لم يكن لأحد من السلطات الإستعمارية أن يسمعه... بل لم يكن حتى للأوروبيين داخل الجزائر أن يتعاطفوا معه. فرنان الذي سيكون أول أوروبي يعدم بعد محاكمة وسادس شهيد أوروبي في مسيرة النضال هذه.
الرواية تعود بنا إلى مجتمع جزائري متنوع يحمل بداخله قوميات وديانات مختلفة، تجعلنا نتسأل عن مفهوم الهوية والإنتماء داخل هذا الحيز الجغرافي. لم يكن يشترط في النضال دينك أو مذهبك، لم يكن يطلب منك بطاقة إقامتك أو محل إزدياك، لم تكن مسألة حصرية تخص قوما معينين كما هو اليوم، مفاهيم اليوم عن الهوية وللأسف ألقت بثقلها على من حاربوا في سبيل هذا الشعب، ليكتموا أصواتهم ويفقدوا أحقيتهم في تواجدهم بين صفحات كتب التاريخ الجزائري. فرنان كان بطلا في نظر العرب والمسلمين قبل الشيوعيين والأوروبيين أنفسهم، فرنان الذي لا يعرف دينا ولا يملك لسانا عربيا.
الجميل أن جوزيف عمد إلى تقديم فرنان كحالة إنسانية لا بطل، حالة تتعاطف معها. بعد عملية تعذيب مرهقة يتسائل فرنان: من أي مادة صنعوا الأبطال ليتحملوا كل هذا؟ من أي عظم؟ ومن أي لحم؟ أقول ربما لم يوجد مثل هؤلاء الأبطال أبدا، ربما لأننا نقرأ عملا يتحدث عن إنسان لا عن أساطير المجاهدين التي مللنا من سماع لا واقعيتها، إنسان عاش ليحب الحياة ويتذوقها، لم يكن ينوي ليكون بطلا، كان إنسانا... أراد بكل هذا أن تميل الكفة قليلا للمغلوبين على أمرهم، ناضل بطريقته ليموت بطريقتهم.
عمل مليء بمقاطع تقهرك، طلبه الأخير والذي كان سروالا بعد أن جر من الزنزانة وهو شبه عاري، ذلك التسارع في السرد عن الوصول إعدامه، الزغاريد نظراته، الخوف الذي كان بداخله. جملته الأخيرة : "حياة رجل، حياتي، لاتهم كثيرا، مايهم، هو الجزائر، مستقبلها. والجزائر ستكون حرة. أنا واثق من أن الصداقة بين الفرنسيين والجزائريين ستلتحم ثانية."
، وهو يسقط عند أقدام هيلين باكيا،عند سماع خبر قتل هنري. وهو يغني أغنية kalou لرفيقه في الزنزانة ... "حبي الجميل ليس لعبة كالو"، جرب سماع هذه الأغنية التي تحمل رائحة ذلك الزمن، تحمل حب فرنان لهيلين، تحمل بداخلها الأمل والشوق للقاءها... بينما كان جوزيف يتنقل بين أحداث تعذيب فرنان كنت أعود لصورة الغلاف التي تحمل وجهه، أعاينها جيدا، وحتى بعد إنتهاءي من الرواية لا زلت أعود لوجهه... لأرى الهدوء والسكينة نفسها وتعب البروليتاريا طبعا.
وكما قال صلاح باديس متكلما عن فرنان (والذي أشكره على هذه الترجمة الرائعة): "هو العامل البروليتاري الذي عاش حياة لا يمكن وصفها بالسهلة، هذه الحياة لم تذهب هباء ليس فقط لأن الجزائر استقلت بل أيضا لأنه عرف الحقيقة طيلة حياته وعرف الحب كذلك."
كان هذا ما يؤمن به فرنان إيفتون، العامل إبن العامل البروليتاري ومندوب نقابة بالكونفدرالية العامة للعمال، قرأ كثيرا لماركس كما عاش وسط حي شعبي في العاصمة وعرف المحبة الحقيقية، كما عرف الأخوة. لا أعتقد أن فرنان إيفتون (ويجب التشديد هنا على أن إيفتون تنطق ب I لا Y) قد تخيل نفسه يوما مناضلا حقيقيا، وأقصد هنا: أن تتحول أفكاره من الشجب والرفض والحلم إلى الفعل والتحرك على أرض الواقع، مع الإبقاء طبعا على جزئية الحلم، الحلم بأخوية تجمع الفرنسيين والجزائريين في هذه البلاد، أن يعيش الكل تحت مظلة واحدة تنصف الجميع. لم يؤمن بالجزائر كمقاطعة فرنسية، بل أمن بجزائر حرة مستقلة.
يختار جوزيف أندراس أن يقدم لنا فرنان الذي تجاهلت قصته الجهات الرسمية والشعبية في الجزائر، على خطين زمنيين، يفصل بينهما إغتيال صديقه الأوروبي الجزائري هنري مايو، والذي قرر الإلتحاق بصفوف الحزب الشيوعي الجزائري بعد أن هرب شاحنة مليئة بالأسلحة والقنابل اليدوية، هنري صديق الطفولة والأخ الذي لم تلده أمه (كما يعتبره فرنان)، مصرعه هو ما سيحرك فرنان بإتجاه الكفاح المسلح. مسلح وعنيف نعم، لكن لن يكون هذا العنف موجها إلى المدنيين والعزل. في عالم أخر نرى فرنان الساخر، الكوميدي، الذي سيعيش حالة حب مع إمرأة إسمها هيلين، تعرف عليها في باريس وشاركها أفكاره عن الحب والحياة وعن حقوق الإنسان والعرب خاصة في الجزائر، شاعرية ساحرة في هذه الأجواء التي يقدمها جوزيف نتعرف بها على فرنان قبل أن تتغير حياته بالكامل.
نرى الإرتباك الواضح على فرنان وهو يستلم أول قنبلة موقوتة سيزرعها داخل المصنع الذي يعمل به، حتى تنفجر ليلا بينما المصنع خالي من العمال، عمل يستدف المنشئات الإستعمارية، عنيف لكنه رمزي، يقصد به الصخر والحديد لا البشر وأرواحهم، هو يفهم هذا لكن النظام الإستعماري الذي سيقبض عليه قبل إنفجار القنبلة (والتي سيتم تفكيكها) لن يتفهم هذا.
في أحد مخافر الشرطة الفرنسية بالعاصمة التي سيتم إقتياد فرنان إاليها فور إلقاء القبض عليه، قصد إستنطاقه حتى يدلي بما يعرفه عن قنبلة أخرى سيتم وضعها بعد ساعتين، إضافة إلى أسامي رفاقه وموقع المخبر الذي تمت بين جدرانه تركيب هذه القنابل. هذه الرغبة المستعجلة جعلت الشرطة الفرنسية تعمل على تعذيب فرنان بكافة الوسائل من الضرب والسب والشتم إلى الإغراق و الكهرباء. ساعات متواصلة من الجوع والإرهاق والتعب لم تنتهي إلى بإستنطاقه، بعد أن تحول سده لقطعة فحم من أثار حرق الكهرباء التي إلتهمت كل جسده.
عملية التعذيب والحكم الإستعجالي بالإعدام والذي سيصدر بحق إيفتون خلال عشر أيام من القبض عليه، في محاكمة إستعراضية كان الغرض منها ترويع وإنذار كل أوروبي يفكر ولو لمجرد التفكير في الإنضمام إلى هذا الحراك أو حتى دعمه معنويا. كانت إختبارا قاسيا لفرنسا دولة الحقوق والمثل العليا، كانت قضية رأي عام جاءت في وقت تفجيرات عديدة بالعاصمة، رأس ستطير لإسكات غضب الأوروبيين داخل الجزائر وفي نفس الوقت ترويع من يتجرأ منهم على السير وراء جبهة التحرير. ومهما حاول فرنان الدفاع عن نفسه بتيان نيته الحقيقية من وراء هذا العمل والرمزية التي تحمله، شرح أفكاره الشيوعية ونضاله من أجل فرنسا القيم نفسها، من أجل المساوة بين العرب والفرنسيين، لم يكن لأحد من السلطات الإستعمارية أن يسمعه... بل لم يكن حتى للأوروبيين داخل الجزائر أن يتعاطفوا معه. فرنان الذي سيكون أول أوروبي يعدم بعد محاكمة وسادس شهيد أوروبي في مسيرة النضال هذه.
الرواية تعود بنا إلى مجتمع جزائري متنوع يحمل بداخله قوميات وديانات مختلفة، تجعلنا نتسأل عن مفهوم الهوية والإنتماء داخل هذا الحيز الجغرافي. لم يكن يشترط في النضال دينك أو مذهبك، لم يكن يطلب منك بطاقة إقامتك أو محل إزدياك، لم تكن مسألة حصرية تخص قوما معينين كما هو اليوم، مفاهيم اليوم عن الهوية وللأسف ألقت بثقلها على من حاربوا في سبيل هذا الشعب، ليكتموا أصواتهم ويفقدوا أحقيتهم في تواجدهم بين صفحات كتب التاريخ الجزائري. فرنان كان بطلا في نظر العرب والمسلمين قبل الشيوعيين والأوروبيين أنفسهم، فرنان الذي لا يعرف دينا ولا يملك لسانا عربيا.
الجميل أن جوزيف عمد إلى تقديم فرنان كحالة إنسانية لا بطل، حالة تتعاطف معها. بعد عملية تعذيب مرهقة يتسائل فرنان: من أي مادة صنعوا الأبطال ليتحملوا كل هذا؟ من أي عظم؟ ومن أي لحم؟ أقول ربما لم يوجد مثل هؤلاء الأبطال أبدا، ربما لأننا نقرأ عملا يتحدث عن إنسان لا عن أساطير المجاهدين التي مللنا من سماع لا واقعيتها، إنسان عاش ليحب الحياة ويتذوقها، لم يكن ينوي ليكون بطلا، كان إنسانا... أراد بكل هذا أن تميل الكفة قليلا للمغلوبين على أمرهم، ناضل بطريقته ليموت بطريقتهم.
عمل مليء بمقاطع تقهرك، طلبه الأخير والذي كان سروالا بعد أن جر من الزنزانة وهو شبه عاري، ذلك التسارع في السرد عن الوصول إعدامه، الزغاريد نظراته، الخوف الذي كان بداخله. جملته الأخيرة : "حياة رجل، حياتي، لاتهم كثيرا، مايهم، هو الجزائر، مستقبلها. والجزائر ستكون حرة. أنا واثق من أن الصداقة بين الفرنسيين والجزائريين ستلتحم ثانية."
، وهو يسقط عند أقدام هيلين باكيا،عند سماع خبر قتل هنري. وهو يغني أغنية kalou لرفيقه في الزنزانة ... "حبي الجميل ليس لعبة كالو"، جرب سماع هذه الأغنية التي تحمل رائحة ذلك الزمن، تحمل حب فرنان لهيلين، تحمل بداخلها الأمل والشوق للقاءها... بينما كان جوزيف يتنقل بين أحداث تعذيب فرنان كنت أعود لصورة الغلاف التي تحمل وجهه، أعاينها جيدا، وحتى بعد إنتهاءي من الرواية لا زلت أعود لوجهه... لأرى الهدوء والسكينة نفسها وتعب البروليتاريا طبعا.
وكما قال صلاح باديس متكلما عن فرنان (والذي أشكره على هذه الترجمة الرائعة): "هو العامل البروليتاري الذي عاش حياة لا يمكن وصفها بالسهلة، هذه الحياة لم تذهب هباء ليس فقط لأن الجزائر استقلت بل أيضا لأنه عرف الحقيقة طيلة حياته وعرف الحب كذلك."
January 5, 2021
Εκπληκτικό βιβλίο. Ποιος προδίδει πρώτους η πατρίδα ή ο προδότης; Και τελικά υπάρχει τίποτα χειρότερο από την κοινή, κενή γνώμη;
November 10, 2016
Έρωτας για τη ζωή, πάθος για την ελευθερία. Τα όνειρα καίνε σαν οξύ την κρατική σκοπιμότητα
January 4, 2022
The true story (but in fictionalized rendering) of Fernand Iveton, the only "European" executed by France in the Algerian War. It's short, and extremely powerful. I may not have understood as much as I did of the factions and the players if I wasn't already immersed in reading about that War. For instance, why the quotations around "European"?
Iveton was a pied noir, a Frenchman born in Algeria. They had more perks than native Algerians during the period of French rule and as a class generally looked down on Algerians. But not Iveton, who saw mistreatment, some close to him, and shifted politically toward communism. And from there to planting a bomb. The bomb was diffused and, at least for the sake of this novel, was never intended to injure people. But the French needed an example.
So this was a story of torture, of abrupt injustice, and waiting for a pardon. And how believers die today for a better tomorrow.
It's also a love story, and that well-told, of the love between Fernand and Hélène:
He doesn't know much about her, but what he knows is ample enough. No need to ballast a beating heart.
Iveton was a pied noir, a Frenchman born in Algeria. They had more perks than native Algerians during the period of French rule and as a class generally looked down on Algerians. But not Iveton, who saw mistreatment, some close to him, and shifted politically toward communism. And from there to planting a bomb. The bomb was diffused and, at least for the sake of this novel, was never intended to injure people. But the French needed an example.
So this was a story of torture, of abrupt injustice, and waiting for a pardon. And how believers die today for a better tomorrow.
It's also a love story, and that well-told, of the love between Fernand and Hélène:
He doesn't know much about her, but what he knows is ample enough. No need to ballast a beating heart.
May 1, 2021
Questa lettura, di cui non avevo praticamente sentito mai parlare, si è rivelata sorprendente. Racconta un episodio probabilmente marginale della lotta algerina contro la Francia, ma non per questo meno feroce e brutale di quanto già conosciamo di questo conflitto. E aver rievocato la storia e il suo protagonista in modo documentato è già sicuramente meritorio. Tuttavia l’aspetto che più ho apprezzato è l’intensità della scrittura, pungente e martellante, nervosa e lirica insieme, resa, credo brillantemente, da una traduzione sensibile. I protagonisti, Fernand, Hélène, i compagni di cella, gli avvocati, tutti si imprimono con la forza di un rilievo sullo sfondo opaco della Storia.
March 15, 2019
Συγκλονιστικό
February 14, 2019
Συγκλονιστικό!! Μια αληθινή ιστορία που σε ταρακουνάει!
July 27, 2025
"Δεν έχει πει τίποτα απ' τη στιγμή που ξύπνησε: τις φοβάται τώρα τις λέξεις, ξέρει πώς μπορούν να τις αρπάξουν με τη βία και να τις γυρίσουν απ' την ανάποδη σαν γάντι." σ. 58
Μου αρέσει αυτό που κάνει με τα γραπτά του: αποδίδει πίσω στον άνθρωπο ό,τι τόσοι και τόσο σύνθετοι μηχανισμοί τού αρνούνται : την αίσθηση ότι έχει αξία, πως μπορεί να κάνει τη διαφορά. Ότι οι κυματισμοί που προκαλούν οι πράξεις του μπορούν να φτάσουν μακριά.
Για τον Φερνάν Ιβτόν, έφτασαν αρκετά μακριά.
Μου αρέσει αυτό που κάνει με τα γραπτά του: αποδίδει πίσω στον άνθρωπο ό,τι τόσοι και τόσο σύνθετοι μηχανισμοί τού αρνούνται : την αίσθηση ότι έχει αξία, πως μπορεί να κάνει τη διαφορά. Ότι οι κυματισμοί που προκαλούν οι πράξεις του μπορούν να φτάσουν μακριά.
Για τον Φερνάν Ιβτόν, έφτασαν αρκετά μακριά.
February 3, 2019
Από την πρώτη μέχρι την τελευταία σελίδα, μόνο ανατριχίλα!
March 4, 2021
This short novel tells the true story of Fernand Iveton, a communist and French supporter of Algerian independence during the Algerian War of the late 1950s and early 1960s. Iveton planted a bomb in a factory just outside of Algiers in November 1956. He timed the bomb to detonate after work hours, intending to avoid casualties, but it was discovered and defused. Nevertheless, Iveton was savagely tortured, hurriedly tried and guillotined — the only European to meet this fate during the Algerian War.
This is a powerful book, made even more so when aware that the title comes from a poem received from an anonymous writer by Fernand's wife, just after his death..
This is a powerful book, made even more so when aware that the title comes from a poem received from an anonymous writer by Fernand's wife, just after his death..
May our ideal live on
Mingled with your blood
So that tomorrow they won’t dare
They won’t dare to murder us.
February 26, 2020
"Σε ελάχιστες καρδιές αρέσει να χτυπάνε ραγισμένες"
January 7, 2019
4 και κάτι.
Μικρό και θαυματουργό θα έλεγα. Ιδεολογικά φορτισμένο. Μια πραγματική ιστορία η οποία έπρεπε να ειπωθεί, να καταγραφεί να γίνει επιτέλους γνωστή. Ο ρυθμός του γρήγορος, το ύφος οξύ. Δεν λέει παραπάνω απ' όσα πρέπει. Η ιστορία του αγωνιστή Φερνάν Ιβτόν την περίοδο που μαίνεται ο πόλεμος για την απελευθέρωση της Αλγερίας από τους αποικιοκράτες. Μου άρεσε πολύ και με συγκίνησε.
Μικρό και θαυματουργό θα έλεγα. Ιδεολογικά φορτισμένο. Μια πραγματική ιστορία η οποία έπρεπε να ειπωθεί, να καταγραφεί να γίνει επιτέλους γνωστή. Ο ρυθμός του γρήγορος, το ύφος οξύ. Δεν λέει παραπάνω απ' όσα πρέπει. Η ιστορία του αγωνιστή Φερνάν Ιβτόν την περίοδο που μαίνεται ο πόλεμος για την απελευθέρωση της Αλγερίας από τους αποικιοκράτες. Μου άρεσε πολύ και με συγκίνησε.
September 6, 2018
Ένας χείμαρρος! Η ωμή πραγματικότητα τραγουδισμένη τόσο λυρικά. Η ιδέα, ο θάνατος, η ζωή, η ελπίδα, ο έρωτας, αυτό το βιβλίο!!!
November 11, 2022
"Nereden geldiğini tahmin edemediği Arapça haykırışlar, tezahüratlar, sloganlar etrafını sarıyor. Hapishane onunla gurur duyuyor. Şakakları uğulduyor. Yaşasın Cezayir! Gardiyanlar birdenbire, panikle değilse de baş dönmesiyle sarsılmış görünüyorlar; mahkumlar her ne kadar kilit altında olsalar da varlıkları etrafı kaplıyor, umutları kapıların demirlerini kırıyor. Bir yüreği engelleyebilecek hiçbir devlet yoktur. Hayaller, onun aklını kemirir."
1984 doğumlu Fransız yazar Joseph Andras'ın -rekabet ve yarışmanın edebiyat kültüründe yeri olmaması gerektiğine inandığını belirterek reddettiği- Goncourt Ödülü'ne layık görülen ilk romanı "Yaralı Dostlarımıza", 1954-1962 arasında Cezayir'de süren savaş döneminde giyotine gönderilen tek Fransız vatandaşı olan Fernand Iveton'un öyküsünü anlatıyor.
Can kaybı olmayacak şekilde, boş bir alana sadece Fransa'nın baskıcı politikalarına karşı dikkat çekmek üzere bir bomba yerleştirmeye çalışırken yakalanan, üstelik bomba patlamamasına ve kimse ölmemesine rağmen idam edilen bir insanın öyküsü bu. Zamanın ruhunun; çıldırmış, kurban isteyen bir toplumsal histerinin öldürdüğü binlerce insandan bir diğeri dünya tarihinde.
Andras; Iveton'un yakalanıp işkence görmesi, hapse atılması, tek günlük bir mahkemeyle hüküm giymesi ve idam edilmesine kadar geçen son 6 ayına odaklanırken, zaman zaman flashbacklerle gençliğine, karısıyla tanışmasına, çocukluğuna da götürüyor bizi. Yazarın dili oldukça mesafeli, ancak bu mesafede epey sağlam bir teknik hakimiyet de var: hiçbir ajistasyona bulaşmadan bu trajik mevzuyu içinizde hissetmenizi sağlamayı beceriyor yazar.
Aktivizmin sınırları nelerdir, savaşçıyı/kahramanı teröristten ayıran çizgi nerede çekilir, adalet sadece hukuki bir kavram mıdır, toplumlar nasıl kolektif çılgınlıklara kapılıp adalete tuzaklar kurar... Alttan alta bu soruları soran bir metin bu.
"Halkı devletten korumak için girişilen bir kahramanlık öyküsü" olması itibariyle aklıma Norman Ohler'in Harro ile Libertas'ını getirdi, yeri gelmişken onu da anayım. "Yaralı Dostlarımıza" bence onun kadar iyi bir kitap olmamakla beraber, benzer hislerle okudum. Kısa ama güçlü, epey çarpıcı bir metin.
1984 doğumlu Fransız yazar Joseph Andras'ın -rekabet ve yarışmanın edebiyat kültüründe yeri olmaması gerektiğine inandığını belirterek reddettiği- Goncourt Ödülü'ne layık görülen ilk romanı "Yaralı Dostlarımıza", 1954-1962 arasında Cezayir'de süren savaş döneminde giyotine gönderilen tek Fransız vatandaşı olan Fernand Iveton'un öyküsünü anlatıyor.
Can kaybı olmayacak şekilde, boş bir alana sadece Fransa'nın baskıcı politikalarına karşı dikkat çekmek üzere bir bomba yerleştirmeye çalışırken yakalanan, üstelik bomba patlamamasına ve kimse ölmemesine rağmen idam edilen bir insanın öyküsü bu. Zamanın ruhunun; çıldırmış, kurban isteyen bir toplumsal histerinin öldürdüğü binlerce insandan bir diğeri dünya tarihinde.
Andras; Iveton'un yakalanıp işkence görmesi, hapse atılması, tek günlük bir mahkemeyle hüküm giymesi ve idam edilmesine kadar geçen son 6 ayına odaklanırken, zaman zaman flashbacklerle gençliğine, karısıyla tanışmasına, çocukluğuna da götürüyor bizi. Yazarın dili oldukça mesafeli, ancak bu mesafede epey sağlam bir teknik hakimiyet de var: hiçbir ajistasyona bulaşmadan bu trajik mevzuyu içinizde hissetmenizi sağlamayı beceriyor yazar.
Aktivizmin sınırları nelerdir, savaşçıyı/kahramanı teröristten ayıran çizgi nerede çekilir, adalet sadece hukuki bir kavram mıdır, toplumlar nasıl kolektif çılgınlıklara kapılıp adalete tuzaklar kurar... Alttan alta bu soruları soran bir metin bu.
"Halkı devletten korumak için girişilen bir kahramanlık öyküsü" olması itibariyle aklıma Norman Ohler'in Harro ile Libertas'ını getirdi, yeri gelmişken onu da anayım. "Yaralı Dostlarımıza" bence onun kadar iyi bir kitap olmamakla beraber, benzer hislerle okudum. Kısa ama güçlü, epey çarpıcı bir metin.
March 7, 2021
This is worth reading. Historical fiction about the only pied-noir executed doing the Algerian war for independence.
July 1, 2024
Triste, descorazonador, hace que la rabia y la frustración hiervan dentro de ti a medida que avanzas en su lectura.
Aún con todo nuestro protagonista no pierde la esperanza en ningún momento desde su encarcelamiento en la prisión de Barbarroja tras dictar su sentencia. A todas luces es una sentencia de pena capital total y absolutamente injusta, pues no ha causado muertos.
Pero la opinión pública y los pies negros (ciudadanos franceses de origen europeo) de Argel se ceban y claman "justicia" para que el "asesino" y "terrorista" de Iveton reciba su castigo. Mientras, en las calles argelinas, se libra una encarnizada guerra entre los árabes oprimidos y los colonialistas europeos.
¿Qué harán el presidente de Francia en esos tiempos convulsos, el conservador René Coty, y su ministro de justicia, el líder socialista François Mitterrand, con el comunista y anticolonialista de Fernand Iveton?
Su autor, Joseph Andras, sí supo cómo actuar adecuadamente en 2016, al rechazar el premio Goncourt "por coherencia y por no querer competir en literatura".
En conclusión, a quien quiera conocer estos hechos y su desenlace, teniendo en cuenta que no fueron en balde, ya que Argelia consiguió su independencia de Francia en 1962, y Mitterrand abolió la pena capital en 1981, le aconsejo que lo lea con un estado de ánimo óptimo. Valoración final: 4'25 de 5⭐.
Aún con todo nuestro protagonista no pierde la esperanza en ningún momento desde su encarcelamiento en la prisión de Barbarroja tras dictar su sentencia. A todas luces es una sentencia de pena capital total y absolutamente injusta, pues no ha causado muertos.
Pero la opinión pública y los pies negros (ciudadanos franceses de origen europeo) de Argel se ceban y claman "justicia" para que el "asesino" y "terrorista" de Iveton reciba su castigo. Mientras, en las calles argelinas, se libra una encarnizada guerra entre los árabes oprimidos y los colonialistas europeos.
¿Qué harán el presidente de Francia en esos tiempos convulsos, el conservador René Coty, y su ministro de justicia, el líder socialista François Mitterrand, con el comunista y anticolonialista de Fernand Iveton?
Su autor, Joseph Andras, sí supo cómo actuar adecuadamente en 2016, al rechazar el premio Goncourt "por coherencia y por no querer competir en literatura".
En conclusión, a quien quiera conocer estos hechos y su desenlace, teniendo en cuenta que no fueron en balde, ya que Argelia consiguió su independencia de Francia en 1962, y Mitterrand abolió la pena capital en 1981, le aconsejo que lo lea con un estado de ánimo óptimo. Valoración final: 4'25 de 5⭐.
January 8, 2023
Διαμαντάκι.
Η ιστορία του Φερνάν Ιβτόν, του μοναδικού Ευρωπαίου που εκτελέστηκε στον πόλεμο της Αλγερίας.
(άλλη βασανισμένη χώρα, που πλήρωσε και πληρώνει τα τερτίπια των Ευρωπαίων!)
Βαθύ, στοχαστικό ακόμη και ρομαντικό.
" Τον Φερνάν, τον βασάνιζαν όλη μέρα ° έδωσε τρεις. Από τι υλικά είναι φτιαγμένοι τελικά οι ήρωες; αναρωτιέται, δεμένος στον πάγκο, με το κεφάλι ριγμένο πίσω. Από τι δέρμα, τι κόκαλα, τι σκελετό, τι τένοντες, τι νεύρα, τι σάρκα, τι στόφα, τι κρέας, τι ψυχή είναι καμωμένοι αυτοί; Συγνώμη, σύντροφοι..."
" Οι δεσμοφύλακες μοιάζουν αίφνης κυριεύμενοι, αν όχι από πανικό, από ίλιγγο: οι κρατούμενοι, αν κι έγκλειστοι, τους έχουν ξεφύγει - οι ελπίδες τους παρασέρνουν τις σιδερένιες πόρτες. Καμία καρδιά δεν μπορεί να την κρατήσει αιχμάλωτη το κράτος. Τα όνειρα καίνε σαν οξύ την κρατική σκοπιμότητα "
Η ιστορία του Φερνάν Ιβτόν, του μοναδικού Ευρωπαίου που εκτελέστηκε στον πόλεμο της Αλγερίας.
(άλλη βασανισμένη χώρα, που πλήρωσε και πληρώνει τα τερτίπια των Ευρωπαίων!)
Βαθύ, στοχαστικό ακόμη και ρομαντικό.
" Τον Φερνάν, τον βασάνιζαν όλη μέρα ° έδωσε τρεις. Από τι υλικά είναι φτιαγμένοι τελικά οι ήρωες; αναρωτιέται, δεμένος στον πάγκο, με το κεφάλι ριγμένο πίσω. Από τι δέρμα, τι κόκαλα, τι σκελετό, τι τένοντες, τι νεύρα, τι σάρκα, τι στόφα, τι κρέας, τι ψυχή είναι καμωμένοι αυτοί; Συγνώμη, σύντροφοι..."
" Οι δεσμοφύλακες μοιάζουν αίφνης κυριεύμενοι, αν όχι από πανικό, από ίλιγγο: οι κρατούμενοι, αν κι έγκλειστοι, τους έχουν ξεφύγει - οι ελπίδες τους παρασέρνουν τις σιδερένιες πόρτες. Καμία καρδιά δεν μπορεί να την κρατήσει αιχμάλωτη το κράτος. Τα όνειρα καίνε σαν οξύ την κρατική σκοπιμότητα "
November 30, 2021
“The Algeria of tomorrow is his country, one where colonialism will be nothing but a bad memory, a baleful event in the history of the exploitation of man by man.” 🇩🇿
Tomorrow They Won’t Dare to Murder Us is a brief yet intense anticolonial fictionalisation of the short life of pied-noir Fernand Iveton, the only European to be executed by the French colonial authorities during the Algerian Independence War (1954-62).
The title of this book originates from a poem penned in memory of Fernand Iveton by a female Algerian-European militant.
My discovery of this book was quite serendipitous; I was on my way to Daunt to buy the Fanon books when I popped into the Oxfam a few shops down and spotted this on the table. Sceptical of historical retellings (obvs), I decided to look into it before buying. To my absolute shock, it wasn’t there two weeks later. I actually ended up buying it from Daunt this weekend lol.
After being caught and tortured for planting a bomb in an empty factory, Iveton is sentenced to death by guillotine. This act of resistance against the backdrop of French colonial brutality was conducted after Iveton, initially an activist for the Algerian Communist Party, decided to join forces with the FLN, frustrated by the lack of resistive action by the Party.
The writing in this novel was simple and beautiful. I was taken aback by how much I enjoyed the prose and Andras’ portrayal of Iveton’s untimely death as an event that stimulated hope and salvation as opposed to despair and demoralisation.
Dispersed throughout the overarching narrative are sentimental scenes between Iveton and his wife Hélène, who supported his mission. Iveton’s relationship with his wife, his companions and his cell mates was one of strength and loyalty.
“I am going to die, he murmurs, but Algeria will be independent…”
4.5/5 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Tomorrow They Won’t Dare to Murder Us is a brief yet intense anticolonial fictionalisation of the short life of pied-noir Fernand Iveton, the only European to be executed by the French colonial authorities during the Algerian Independence War (1954-62).
The title of this book originates from a poem penned in memory of Fernand Iveton by a female Algerian-European militant.
My discovery of this book was quite serendipitous; I was on my way to Daunt to buy the Fanon books when I popped into the Oxfam a few shops down and spotted this on the table. Sceptical of historical retellings (obvs), I decided to look into it before buying. To my absolute shock, it wasn’t there two weeks later. I actually ended up buying it from Daunt this weekend lol.
After being caught and tortured for planting a bomb in an empty factory, Iveton is sentenced to death by guillotine. This act of resistance against the backdrop of French colonial brutality was conducted after Iveton, initially an activist for the Algerian Communist Party, decided to join forces with the FLN, frustrated by the lack of resistive action by the Party.
The writing in this novel was simple and beautiful. I was taken aback by how much I enjoyed the prose and Andras’ portrayal of Iveton’s untimely death as an event that stimulated hope and salvation as opposed to despair and demoralisation.
Dispersed throughout the overarching narrative are sentimental scenes between Iveton and his wife Hélène, who supported his mission. Iveton’s relationship with his wife, his companions and his cell mates was one of strength and loyalty.
“I am going to die, he murmurs, but Algeria will be independent…”
4.5/5 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
September 15, 2024
Mücadele, aşkı ikinci plana atar. İdealler kendi paylarına düşeni talep eder, tıpkı savaş ve zeytin dalı, kedi ve köpek gibi. s.8 Yaralı Dostlarımıza Joseph Andras. 2023 yilinda okudugum en guzel metinlerden biri Yarali Dostlarimiza. Fernand Iveton Cezayir asilli bir Fransiz vatandasi. Fransa'nin Cezayir politikalarını elestiren bir devrimci. Iveton isledigi suctan oturu mahkum olur. Bu sucun cezasi ise giyotindir. Butun basin , arkadaslari giyotinlik bir durum olmadigi konusunda hem fikirdir. Ama durumlar tahmin ettikleri gibi gelismez. Giyotin cezasi Fransa'da yankilara sebep olur. Gecmis şimdi arasinda gecislerin oldugu metin insani uzuyor ve sarsiyor. Arkada guzel bir ask hikayesi de var. Helene'nin bagliligi etkileyici. Albert Camus ve Sartre'nin bu durumla ilgili yorumlari arka kapakta mevcut . Cunku bu yasanmis bir olay. Roman Goncourt odulune layik goruluyor ama yazar Andras, edebiyatin rekabet unsuru olmadigini soyleyerek, bu odulu reddediyor. Cok omurgali ve dik bir durus . Bayildim.bu duruslari seviyorum .Okuyunuz efendim.📚📚
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