The red fez

The red fez, Abdellah Taia, Paris, Biarritz, Atlantica, Segui, 2004
The first time I read a book of this writer, I had a nice feeling. Not always so. Often when I read a first time author I may not like. This time is different. I love the word phrases, the rhythm of its syntactic constructs. Taia writes with musicality, with the fresh fragrance of a poet.
It is a book of autobiographical prose. There are many memories of his life.

It is a good mix of stories, in the light of your space, the derb or towns, neighborhoods with narrow streets, where he lived, and especially the feelings of someone who wants to change their fate. What I like is the manifestation of the uprooting of the protagonist, the alter ego of the writer himself: Abdellah Taia.

Is the pure perception of this man who ended his studies in Paris and away from its own origins. There is a point where nobody knows where he comes when he says: “Nothing. I have nothing here, no chance, no future.” (Page 122), “My new life is built in Paris, happy or unhappy, that depends on the day and seasons. “(page 125).
Everything is difficult. The anguish is born with the power of death. With the solitude he finds happiness:
“I needed the darkness that temporarily brought me back to myself, which gave me brief moments of calm. The privacy needs of darkness, cannot live full sun” (p. 126)
But ultimately, the love for becoming, for the future, it helps me with the news. It is the general feeling in all stories, all players who are the book. Wonderful.