He thought I'd forged my mom's name on the slip. How stupid is that? On this thing Mom just made a kind of squiggly shape on the page. That jerk didn't even think about what he was saying, didn't even ask himself why her signature might be weird. He's one of those people who think illiteracy is like AIDS. It only exists in Africa.
--fromKiffe Kiffe Tomorrow
"A tale for anyone who has ever lived outside looking in, especially from that alien country called adolescence. A funny, heartfelt story from a wise guy who happens to be a girl. If you've ever fallen in love, if you've ever had your heart broken, this story is your story." -- Sandra Cisneros, author of THE HOUSE ON MANGO STREET
The Paradise projects are only a few metro stops from Paris, but here it's a whole different kind of France. Doria's father, the Beard, has headed back to their hometown in Morocco, leaving her and her mom to cope with theirmektoubtheir destinyalone. They have a little help-- from a social worker sent by the city, a psychiatrist sent by the school, and a thug friend who recites Rimbaud.
It seems like fates dealt them an impossible hand, but Doria might still make a new life. She'll prove the projects aren't only about rap, soccer, and religious tension. Shell take the Arabic word kif-kif (same old, same old) and mix it up with the French verb kiffer (to really like something). Now she has a whole new motto: KIFFE KIFFE TOMORROW.
"Moving and irreverent, sad and funny, full of rage and intelligence. [Guène's] characters are unforgettable, her voice fresh, and her book a delight." -- Laila Lalami, author of Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits
Faïza Guène, the child of Algerian immigrants, grew up in the public housing projects of Pantin, outside Paris. This is her first book.PRAISE FOR KIFFE KIFFE TOMORROW
"A light-hearted bonbon of a book. Not since director Mathieu Kassovitz's 1995 hit film Hate has there been such a compelling portrait of the Parisian suburbs. Doria [is] a volatile mix of adolescent insecurity, misguided bravado and tenderness."
-NEWSWEEK INTERNATIONAL
"[Kiffe Kiffe Tomorrow] challenges the conventional wisdom that the suburbs are only dangerous, crime-infested wastelands where hatred runs deep and hope is nonexistent."
-THE NEW YORK TIMES
"Rendered with tough defiance. [A] brash and bracing read." - Seattle Times"This highly original story, told in an equally original voice, will be popular for as long as people read it." - curled up with a good book "A feisty, invigorating debut. [F]unny, infuriating, and hopeful about young womanhood and cultural welter. A-" -- Entertainment Weekly
"Think of Doria on the same adolescent raft as Huck Finn and Holden Caulfield. A cunning wonder." - Harper's"[K]udos for this sassy, spunky tale [with] the unforgettable voice. Doria has what it takes to storm any barricade." - Hartford-Courant "Smart, upbeat. An empowering new voice transforms kif-kif-- same old, same old-- into kiffer, something to be crazy about." - Kirkus, starred review "Moving and irreverent, sad and funny, full of rage and intelligence. Her voice is fresh, and her book a delight." - Laila Lalami "[Doria is] as likable as Holden Caulfield orPrepsLee Fiora. Readers will cheer. Highly recommended." -- Library Journal, starred review "[C]ompelling, revealing Guene to be a promising addition to the world's literary voices." - Miami Herald "[I]nspired. [A] sharply drawn tale of a precocious adolescent. [T]he reader can't help cheering." - New York Times Book Review "Guene keeps her narrative plunging onward, one amusing observation from Doria at a time. [A] promising debut." - Philadelphia Inquirer
"Exuberant, sophisticated teen talk. This small novel reads like a quiet celebration within a chaotic ghetto." - Publishers Weekly"Remarkable. A Gallic version of 'White Teeth,' 'The Catcher in the Rye' and 'Bridget Jones's Diary.'"- Salon "[C]ompelling... reveals Guene to be a promising addition to the world's literary voices." - San Francisco Chronicle
"A tale for anyone who has ever lived outside looking in, especially from that alien country called adolescence." - Sandra Cisneros"With bravado, humor, and a healthy dose of rage." - St. Petersburg Times "Guene has a bright future ahead of her." - TimeOut Chicago
"Rendered with tough defiance. [A] brash and bracing read."
"This highly original story, told in an equally original voice, will be popular for as long as people read it.""A feisty, invigorating debut. [F]unny, infuriating, and hopeful about young womanhood and cultural welter. A-" -- Entertainment Weekly
"Think of Doria on the same adolescent raft as Huck Finn and Holden Caulfield. A cunning wonder."
"[K]udos for this sassy, spunky tale [with] the unforgettable voice. Doria has what it takes to storm any barricade.""Smart, upbeat. An empowering new voice transforms kif-kif-- same old, same old-- into kiffer, something to be crazy about."
"Moving and irreverent, sad and funny, full of rage and intelligence. Her voice is fresh, and her book a delight.""[C]ompelling, revealing Guene to be a promising addition to the worlds literary voices." "Guene keeps her narrative plunging onward, one amusing observation from Doria at a time. [A] promising debut.""Exuberant, sophisticated teen talk. This small novel reads like a quiet celebration within a chaotic ghetto."
"Remarkable. A Gallic version of White Teeth, The Catcher in the Rye and Bridget Joness Diary. ""[C]ompelling... reveals Guene to be a promising addition to the worlds literary voices.""A tale for anyone who has ever lived outside looking in, especially from that alien country called adolescence."
"With bravado, humor, and a healthy dose of rage.""Guene has a bright future ahead of her."Faïza Guène attends the University of St. Denis and has just completed her first short film. The child of Algerian immigrants, she grew up in the public housing projects of Pantin, outside Paris. This is her first book.
Its Monday and, like every Monday, I went over to Madame Burlauds. Mme Burlaud is old, shes ugly, and she stinks like RID antilice shampoo. Shes harmless, but sometimes she worries me. Today she took a whole bunch of weird pictures out of her bottom drawer. They were these huge blobs that looked like dried vomit. She asked me what they made me think about. When I told her she stared at me with her eyes all bugged out, shaking her head like those little toy dogs in the backs of cars.
It was school that sent me up to see her. The teachers, in between strikes for once, figured Id better see somebody because I seemed shut down or closed off or something . . . Maybe theyre right. I dont give a shit. I go. Its covered by welfare.
I guess Ive been like this since my dad left. He went a way long way away, back to Morocco to marry another woman, who must be younger and more fertile than my mom. After me, Mom couldnt have any more children. But it wasnt like she didnt try. She tried for a really long time. When I think of all the girls who get pregnant their first time, not even on purpose . . . Dad, he wanted a son. For his pride, his reputation, the family honor, and Im sure lots of other stupid reasons. But he only got one kid and it was a girl. Me. You could say I didnt exactly meet customer specifications. Trouble is, its not like at the supermarket: Theres no customer-satisfaction guarantee. So one day the Beard must have realized there was no point trying anymore with my mom and he took off. Just like that, no warning. All I remember is that I was watching an episode from the fourth season of The X-Files that Id rented from the video store on the corner. The door banged shut. From the window, I saw a gray taxi pulling away. Thats all. Its been over six months. That peasant woman he married is probably pregnant by now. And I know exactly how it will all go down: Seven days after the birth theyll hold the baptism ceremony and invite the whole village. A band of old sheiks carting their camel-hide drums will come over just for the big event. Its going to cost him a real fortune all his pension from the Renault factory. And then theyll slit the throat of a giant sheep to give the baby its first name. Itll be Mohammed. Ten to one.
When Mme Burlaud asks me if I miss my dad, I say no,” but she doesnt believe me. Shes pretty smart like that, for a chick. Whatever, its no big deal, my moms here. Well, shes here physically. Because in her head, shes somewhere else. Somewhere even farther away than my father. © Hachette Littératures 2004
English translation © Sarah Adams 2006
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