N'zid. (Algeria).

Evans, Jane E.

Malika Mokeddem. N'zid Paris. Seuil. 2001. 214 pages 98 F. ISBN 2-02-049136-2

N'ZID, MALIKA MOKEDDEM'S sixth novel in eleven years, bears a title in Arabic meaning both "Je continue" (I continue) and "Je nais" (I am being born). These definitions aptly depict the protagonist Nora's predicament: as the novel opens, she is suffering from amnesia brought on by a severe blow to her head and face. Literally and figuratively at sea, Nora must maneuver her sailboat alone on the Mediterranean as she strives to recapture the lost thread of her personal story. Hence, she is caught up in the double activity of enduring the elements and becoming reacquainted with herself; this is simultaneously a continuation and a rebirth. The expression "N'zid?" uttered on the VHS radio also triggers Nora's first remembrances. The tension between what she accomplishes automatically and what she rediscovers piecemeal about her identity gives the novel a suspenseful quality. Additionally, geographically accurate descriptions of the Mediterranean region in which Nora finds herself contrast sharply with her fragmented understanding of who she is, how she became injured, and why she is being pursued.

Nora's course from the Greek islands toward Cadaques, Spain brings to mind the mythological figure of Ulysses, barred from returning home until he had overcome certain obstacles. Indeed, the cover of the novel states: "Supposons qu'Ulysse soit une femme" (Let's suppose that Ulysses was a woman). Loic, a fellow sailor whom the protagonist encounters in Syracuse, makes the same comparison. Nora's challenges, however, are more psychological than physical. Whereas Nora struggles to recall her past, Loic attempts to forget his. In this way, he functions as a foil to the protagonist. The sea satisfies the two characters differently as well. For Nora, it is a cradle in which to be rocked; for Loic, it constitutes an expanse in which to be cleansed.

Nomadism has a maritime cast in N'zid, unlike Mokeddem's previous works set in the Algerian desert (see e.g. WLT 72:2, p. 433, and 74:1, p. 231). Other common themes have also been attenuated. Gone are the protagonists' direct experiences of the upheavals associated with colonialism and Islamic fundamentalism. Instead, N'zid reveals a more distant collaboration between Nora's friend Jean and the Algerian integristes. The image of the absent or powerless mother, present in the earlier novels, has been modified here too. Nora's mother Aicha returns to her native Algeria following several years of political activity in Paris and marriage to an Irishman. Even the relationship between Nora and her father Samuel is more equal than the father-daughter bond seen elsewhere in Mokeddem's fiction. Both characters of N'zid have foreign status in France; they both express themselves more easily through art than through language.

Whereas Samuel excels at woodworking, Nora's artistic abilities include drawing and painting. In fact, her creations, executed while she navigates, teem with images that jog her memory. At her sketchbook or rudder, Nora's body responds to its own recollections. Her fingers "know" how to manipulate charcoal, paintbrush, and sails. When the doctor tells Nora that her memory lapses are the result of a damaged cerebral "cortex," she reflects on the possibility of understanding the term as "corps-text," or the way in which experience insinuates itself into the cells of the body. She wonders how else she could remember certain gestures such as sailing and drawing while forgetting events from her past. Loic echoes the protagonist's thoughts when he explains that the "ectoderme," or outer layer of skin in the embryo, is derived from the same tissue as the brain. He therefore concludes that the skin is already a memory. For Nora, this explanation also accounts for the lute-playing talent of her friend Jamil.

By deferring the disclosure of Nora's identity for the first 110 pages and by withholding information about her friends' whereabouts until the end, N'zid maintains its suspense. Moreover, the novel goes beyond the mere unraveling of its puzzles. Through its characters' musings about memory, it raises questions not only about identity, but ultimately about the mind-body continuum. Jane E. Evans University of Texas, El Paso