> Treize nouvelles frappées le plus souvent au sceau de la terre nourricière: l'Algérie. Quelques moments qu'on pressent d'une sincérité absolue pour cet auteur à coup sûr déchiré par l'Histoire. Un très beau recueil qui en dit long sur l'homme Dib et sa complexité.
—Danieljean (Babelio)

Dib's work is both wrenching and magical. The stories here are each a quick journey into situations that show the political and personal upheaval of revolutions, both small and large, and which show a heartbreaking alertness for the single moments and pictures that stay with an individual's consciousness forever. Whether centered as conversations between lovers, siblings, or strangers, the stories here are uniquely alert in their sympathies and their simple believability in a world that is, so often, unbelievable. And, the writing is utterly beautiful, worth the read all on its own. Many of the sentences here beg for immediate re-reading, and strike at a reader as far more affecting than one would think possible.

In the end, I can only say that I wandered through the first two stories, but quickly became enamoured with both the langage and the situationes Dib presents. In the end, I felt that the book was perfect, and necessary. This is one of those rare books that everyone should read. Absolutely: recommended.

And, because I can't resist, a favorite passage, albeit an abstract moment in a sea of concrete stories:

"When a world can no longer remedy its own ills, it's very hard to help it become a fair place to live again--even after having gone up into the mountains to die and then ending up coming back down again. That's what life today is all about. ... Hand in hand, Khelil and I walk off toward home. After a few moments, I feel as though we are being escorted by a host of spirits. I know the feeling and I'm also familiar with the physical nearness that spirits, sometimes even more skillfully than living beings, can make one feel when they get it into their minds to envelop us in their presence...they never abandon us, even in this raging autumn sunshine. And if I ever think they have, deserted us that is, it can only be an oversight on my part, the result of my senses growing dull. They never leave us. Sometimes I hear them laughing behind my back and then other times crying." (from "Life Today", pg. 137) ( )