Silence on the Shores. (Algeria).
Cordova, Sarah Davies
Leila Sebbar. Silence on the Shores Mildred Mortimer, tr. Lincoln.
University of Nebraska Press. 2000. xix + 79 pages. $40 ($15 pb). ISBN 0-8032-4285-9 (9276-7 pb)
MILDRED MORTIMER'S TRANSLATION of Le silence des rives (1993)
captures well the ebb and flow of Leila Sebbar's minimalist yet
dense French prose. Written in the third person, ostensibly about a
first-generation Maghrebi male immigrant to the south of France, the
novella follows the course ... of a river reaching its estuary, of a
life on the point of disappearing after a fall, of writing disseminated
into a sea which lies between the shores of France and Algeria. Yet,
with its striking cultivation of anonymity, the work focuses on a
panoply of women characters whom the male protagonist has encountered:
family members; cliched figures like the mother who died in childbirth,
the cabaret owner in France who takes care of the young girls who have
come looking for their male counterparts, hammam women, or singers; as
well as three old women, alternatively referred to as witches, old hags,
sisters; and Soraya, the only named person in the novel, the
fortune-teller who will warn him of his mother's impending death.
Ubiquitous in the majority of the novella's anecdotes, death
tropes most of the protagonist's reminiscences which eddy alongside
his recurring thought of a broken promise to his mother that he would
not allow the three wandering sisters to prepare her body in death. As
he lies dying in France, wondering in epigraphs, in the first person, at
the beginning of each of the novella's three parts who will whisper
in his ear the prayer for the dead, memories wander in and out like
dreamlike sequences, and elide, in the textual imaginary of life at
death's door, the liminalities of real and metaphorical shores.
Permeable crossings foil antithetically the intransigent demarcations of
race, economics, and gender which structure the daily political
realities on both sides of the Mediterranean, as the novella gestures
toward the problematics of re-cognitions of others and their customs,
toward a breaking of the silences that perpetuate the divides between
exiles and inhabitants.
In Sebbar's novella, writing itself figuresas unreadable or
(self-)censored. Even the protagonist, himself a writer, composes and
destroys his texts, implicitly wishing his mother and his wife could
correspond to ideal readers. Often moving between spaces with an
"if" clause, Sebbar's ecriture expunges the undercurrent
of the silence on the shores with a conditional to address the
existential possibilities of a croise(e) for whom neither Algeria nor
France is synonymous with home. Unfortunately, in the translation the
arrangement of the printed text has been modified. The repeated
epigraphs -- with slight variations in wording and order -- no longer
stand alone, erasing the page setting's own bends and thus losing
the representational reflexivity of a novella which images text and
handwriting within its narrative as metaphor for existence at the
estuary.
Sarah Davies Cordova
Marquette University