Charles de Foucauld grew up a pampered, rich playboy who had little care for others, or God for that matter. Antier's effort to chronicle the life of this man who became so holy through a pure love of Christ is admirable.

I delighted in the story of the spoiled aristocrat and flunky cavalry officer. Antier writes it so well. And then, something changed with De Foucauld through the example of his cousin, Marie.

Throughout this life, a life devoted to God, is the theme of restlessness. Charles de Foucauld simply could not settle down. He wanted to sacrifice all for Christ. And his sacrifice was severe. I, like his spiritual director and his bishop, couldn't help but notice that Charles' desire to mortify himself was taken to extremes. He slept little so he could love God. He ate little so he could give food to the poor and thereby love God. He was the least in all things so that he could love God.

Charles wanted to live the "hidden life of Jesus at Nazareth" amongst the poorest of the poor. So he went to the desert and he served the muslims there. This marabout, or holy man, was widely respected by the muslims, and he made no converts.

Sadly, the book ends with the death of the "White Marabout." But what appears to be an end to us in this book was only the beginning and the perfection of love for Charles. Obedience is love. Charles died a martyr in the desert. Simply put, that is what he wanted. Read the book and learn of a man who truly loved Christ.

Antier's task with this book is an admirably ambitious one. The story of Charles de Foucauld, or Charles of Jesus, is as intricate and intimidating as it is powerful and inspiring, and because it is a story of redemption, compassion and hope taking place within a bleak era for both Christianity and the world (the early 20th century), it is of immeasurable value. Antier manages well to trace Charles' steps, from his unfortunate childhood to his gluttonous life as an mediocre military officer, enraptured in all the distractions of the world, to his radical conversion to a living Christian faith that would take him down a most Christ-like path of sacrifice and singular devotion. The biggest challenge for the author in this case is simply not to lose focus of the substance of Charles' wandering and awakening, and Antier succeeds on that point. As a kind of antithesis of the Rich Young Man, the transformed Charles wanted his life to reveal to others Christ's presence among them, and Antier justly allows that driving passion to shape the course of the book. The intent here is earnestly hagiographical; the main point is the severe holiness that would be Charles' gift to the world, to both the Christian church and to his non-Christian neighbors. True, the way Charles sought to live out his love for Christ, as a Christian ascetical hermit among the Muslim nomads of the Sahara desert, is too severe for most Christians, yet it is a story that should told and heard. As Christianity grows more aware of its place a global, pluralistic culture, and especially with its relations with Islam or other religions, it will need the lessons which only a life like Charles' can teach. Moreover, it is a reminder to all Christians, in a time of indifference and apathy, of the centrality of the call to holiness and sacrifice for the authentic Christian life.

Antier is very capable writer, and his book, even in translation, is exceptionally readable. He himself is undoubtedly inspired by Charles' life, which comes through in his enthusiastic prose. Yet by keeping to its clear and simple aim, this book does not sensationalize Charles' life; all Antier needs to do to keep the reader's interest is to offer up this remarkable story. Even so, you cannot help but feel the storyteller's joy coming off the pages, and that only makes it all the more attractive.

Porch, one of America's foremost historians of the French military, endevors to answer the question: why did France spend billions of francs and waste hundreds of lives conquering an enormous, basically worthless desert? His answer, after an exhaustive study of the period and its personalities, is a resounding "they didn't know." Porch's tale is long on anecdotes, but complemented by a skillful discussion of French politics of the period. This saga of arrogant would-be railroad tycoons, religious fanatics, and homicidal soldiers is both tremendously entertaining and highly revealing for those with an interest in the colonial period. Of particular interest is his attempt to use modern ethnography to analyse the motivations of the dwellers of the desert who preceded the French, a study which would have profited the colonialists tremendously if they had been interested. Basically, if you enjoyed "Beau Geste", you owe it to yourself to read this book

Another fine book by Professor Porch. If you liked his book on the Conquest of Morocco, then this book will also be a good read. The only criticism I have of this book is that he didn't place any pictures in it, like he had in the Morocco book. A more detailed map may also have helped.
I agree with the previous reviewer about the intentions of the French. Why conquer an enormous sandpit? The answer is the French government did not know, and relied on the glory seeking soldiers of the French Army. The soldiers were interested in the conquest and not the money and lives the government expended. Colonialism failed because it did not pay, and the French experience in the Sahara was a prime example. Also answered the question why Algeria has a larger share of the desert than her rivals Morocco and Tunisia. Only later when the French were fighting an independance war was oil in the Sahara found.

This author certainly knows the subject matter of this work and offers much in the way of descriptive background and recipes.

A favorite from the book is the Kesksou Bil Djedg (Chicken couscous) a staple dish of Algeria. It is so good and healthy with vegiies and all the spices of this region.

Included also are the typical fare of the area, tagines, and bastilla.

I prefer Wolfert's works on this fare.

I consult this book after just about every trip to the farmer's market. It's an excellent source of fairly exotic, easy to prepare dishes, almost every one of which turning out a great success. Several lamb stews, one with dried prunes and raisins, another with parsley and fennel, kumin-seasoned carrots, couscous with chickpeas and onions and stuffed cornish hens with apricots, almonds and honey have all received rave reviews at our table. No recipes are overly elaborate, the problem is, to not become overly enthusiastic and try to cook up a whole chapter at a time.

Fadhma Amrouche became a well known Berber poet and singer in Paris in the 1960's. She is the mother of the famous writer Marguerite Taos, and the Berber singer Jean Amrouche. Her detailed autobiography explains what it was like to grow up the illegitimate outcast of her village. A bright and strong-spirited girl, she was educated in French an age when few women were educated. The book describes her constant worry to provide for her eight children, a fascinating look at traditional family dynamics in a polygamous household, and a passionate love for Berber culture. It ends with a collection of some of her poetry.

This book presents the life history of an ordinary- -yet very unique Kabyle woman. Fadhma Amrouche was born in 1882/1883 in an Algerian village. Never legitimized by her father, she was subject to endless ridicule by the villagers, prompting her mother to send her away to convent school for her own protection. It was at another convent where her future husband first noticed her, and where they were married, necessitating her conversion to Christianity. In the pages of this book, Amrouche describes her schooling, her marriage, and her children. Her personal and family struggles are the clear focus, while world wars, epidemics and the war of independence flicker through the background. She never had it easy, and she never felt at home, not in France, Tunisia, her husband's house, or even her own village. But when you consider the time period she lived through, how different was her experience, in the end, from those of her compatriots? This book is well worth reading for the wealth of information it contains about conditions in late Nineteenth Century Kabylia as well as for its story of simple endurance.

Henissart details the last year of French rule in Algeria which resulted in the General's Putsch and the formation and destruction of the OAS. If the reader is looking for an account of the fight of the FLN, you will not find it in this book. This is strictly an account of the OAS and pied nor fight for French Algeria.
This is a account of the guerrilla role played by the OAS in their fight for French Algeria. Henissart details the brutalities of the OAS, especially of the Delta commandos. Salan's role in the uprising is also examined. Since the struggle occurred mainly in Algiers and Oran, this is where most of the history of the conflict is written. The author also summarizes the politics of the Fifth Republic and De Galle. Since the Fifth Republic was so divided politically by the war in Algeria, Henissart gives the reader an overview of the opinions of the French public.
This is an excellent book on the last days of French Algeria. Again I would caution the reader that this book is about the OAS and not the struggle of the FLN. One only gets pieces of info on the FLN, and thus an incomplete picture of their struggle. For a more complete read of the struggle in Algeria, read Alistair Horne's excellent book A Savage War of Peace.

Such a masterful recount of the whirlwind of events involving France's last days in Algeria! I have now picked it up for the third time in almost as many decades. The book concerns a failing, teetering colonial policy and its impact upon a military sworn to carry it out. The result is a shock wave, where policy ambiguity clashes with the dedication (in some cases, fanaticism) required by a military mindset engaged in the midst of a civil war. The author even follows the detritus from this clash down to the individual level, giving fascinating portraits of the key individuals involved. It is a arresting, breathtaking piece of writing! Nor is it all so far-fetched either in place or time. The book can add a new dimension of perspective to events in places like Northern Ireland today. The work is timeless.

Meursault, a frenchman living in Algeria (poor guy) lives a normal life. His mother died (does it mather?), he started dating Marie (don't speak of love) and he helped his "friend" Raymond when some Arabs wanted to attack him. He is a complete stranger to others, you don't know what he feels. All you know: he hates hot and sunny places and doesn't understand what he can't smell, touch or eat. Then he kills and is sent to prison. There he finally understands lifes meaning, the absurdity, what it all ment. Is it too late?
I was agreably surprised when I read this book. Usually, what we read in French Litterature is horrible (like Zola, Maupassant, ...) but this was quite nice, perhaps a little boring at times. The story is short and you read it very fast. The characters are quite sympatic, even if Meursault is a little strange.
It's really easy to analyse after you've understood how it works. I got the best marks when I analysed it at school. It's funny to read it after you've analysed it, because the story is much more deeper. It's a fine base for a philosophical debate on the absurdity of life and Camus has got some interessing ideas.
You should really read it in French like I did, it's a lot better and the traslation is sometimes weird.
If you're a teacher and want your class to read something more enjoyable than Zola, choose this book. Some can enjoy it (not me).

This is the haunting story of a young man mindlessly going through life. He seems neither happy nor sad, just pleased to live another day. The protaganist, Meursault, goes about his everyday life in a kind of haze. Even when his Mother dies, he simply accepts it. All the characters around him have a purpose and he drifts along with them until one day he finds himself killing a man.

Even as he sits in prison, he lives a life of happenstance, to him all life leads toward death it doesn't matter whether the journey is long or short, it all ends the same so why not make the best of each day. Simplistic as this seems, the writer, Albert Camus, pulls you into the mind of such an ordinary man in an extraordinary and absurd situation.

This is by far, the best novel I have ever read and it's only 123 pages.

The Stranger was the first novel of Camus' labeled "absurd," and it defines Camus for most Americans. The plot is quite simple, with none of the diversions common in popular literature. The main character is not a hero, has no "true" love affair and the pursuit of money and power never enters the story. The Stranger is an honest atheist, waiting for life to happen.

The title l'Etranger, has been poorly translated. The U.S. title, The Stranger, implies that the main character, Meursault, has been viewed as a "strange" or "odd" person for some time. The other possible meaning is that no one knows him. Meursault is a stranger even to those who think they know him. These definitions do not seem adequate. The U.K. title, The Outsider, only serves to confuse readers even more.

Meursault is the archetype of a middle-class man. He works as a clerk, rents an apartment and draws no attention to himself. He is, if anything, very ordinary. Meusault might even be boring. He lacks deep convictions and passion. If he is estranged from any aspect of French society, it is religion--he does not believe in the symbols and the rituals of faith.

Estranged? "Cela m'est égal."

Along with the title, Camus took care in naming the main character. Meursault's name is symbolic of the Mediteranean sea. Mer mean "sea" and soliel is French for "sun." The sea and the sun meet at the beach, where Meursault's defining actions occur.

Meusault is an anti-hero. His only redeeming quality is his honesty, no matter how absurd. In existential terms, he is "authentic" to himself. Meusault does not believe in God, but he cannot lie because he is true to himself. This inability to falsify empathy ultimately condemns him. Meursault has faith only in what he, himself, can see or experience with his other senses. He is not a philosopher, a theologian or a deep thinker. Meursault exists as he is, not trying to be anything more or less than himself.

Why did Camus' readers recognize Meursault as a plausible character? After two World Wars and much suffering, many people came to live life much as Meursault does. Or at least they tried to do so. These people lost the will to do more than exist. There was no hope and no desire. The only goal for many people was simple survival. Even then, the survival seemed empty and hollow. We learn how empty Meursault's existence is through his relationships. He is not close to his mother; we learn he does not cry at her funeral. He does not seem close to his lover, Marie Cardona. Of her, Meursault states, "To me, she was only Marie." There is no passion is Meursault's words or in his life.

What sets Camus apart from many existentialists and modern philosophers in general is his acceptance of contradiction. Yes, Camus wrote, life is absurd and death renders life meaningless--for the individual. But mankind and its societies are larger than any one individual person.

Though I find his anticolonialist views a bit over-vitriolic at times, there's a very interesting piece entitled "This is the Voice of Algeria." It details how the radio went, in Algeria, from being a social embarassment (for Western integrated views on sexual morality and culture, as integrated into the programming were not appreciated) to being the life-giving source of information in just a few years. It also details the French government's attempts to curtail this cultural association by banning the sale of radios and even spare batteries. Moreover, a cautionary tale; though we think we are past censorial press licensing and such, the current restrictive policies on encryption software seem a similar attempt to prevent dissemination of the tools of speech and association.

To Frantz Fanon, scientist, revolutionary, hero, belongs the most eloquent voice of the era of decolonization. What is striking about the writing of Fanon is its beauty even in translation. Its compassionate humanism shines through even when he calls for armed struggle against the torturers and executioners of French imperialism.

This book was originally published, I believe, as "Year Five of the Algerian Revolution." This revolution, which beganon Nov. 1, 1954 and ended in 1962, became the archetype of anti-colonial revolt purely as a result of Fanon's record of it.

Unfortunately, the Algerian, who had suffered under French domination for 130 years, was outmatched --- but not hopelessly outmatched --- by the French occupying forces. Over 1 million Algerians died in the struggle to give birth to a free Algeria, but only 15000 French soldiers. Fanon writes about the cultural transformations that occurred --- that HAD to occur --- to give fighting Algeria a fighting chance.

Westerners often criticize the Arab world for its allegedly sexist treatment of women. Critics often use the veil as a metaphor for this "oppression." French colonizers, whose goal was the complete destruction of Algerian culture, often used the veil to create a rift in Algerian society. They did so by trying to Europeanize Algerian women --- getting them to cast away the veil and wear make-up and immodest dress --- and by forcing Algerian men bring their wives with them to social functions, taboo in Algerian society.

Fanon shows how the revolution not only healed the rift between the traditional Algerian patriarch and the "modern" woman, but created a new culture with new, non-sexist, values.

For instance, the traditionalist Algerian woman, in the course of the revolution, learned to leave the home, alone, even to doff the hajib, in order to pose as a "modern" woman who could fool the French into thinking she was not a spy for the mujahidin. The "modern" woman, conversely, could come back into the fold by wearing the hajib. The French, thinking her harmless, would not realize that, under her garments, she carried supplies for the rebels.

Fanon also talks about how the Algerian's attitude toward modern medicine and modern technology, seemingly backward to the French, changed completely when these instances of modernity ceased to represent French colonialism, but became instruments of Algerian self-determination.

"A Dying Colonialism" is not as gripping as Fanon's other three books, but is nonetheless a classic.

First, I will comment on the book itself from an American point of view. The book is not easy to read because it is not a book: it is the author's journal he kept during the French Algerian War. Knowing that still, his journal entries, which at the beginning were frequent and detailed, were focused on keeping track of who was killed, tortured or who was doing the killings. It was as if the author, Mr. F.(his notation of using people's initials to hide their identity from I suppose the French secret police), was keeping a testimony of the murders occurring all around him as evidence. This makes for dull reading; however, given the events of 9-11, I made a valiant effort to immerse myself into the author's mind and try to understand this incredibly brutal civil war.

(...)

There are a few important works on the Algerian Civil War available for the English reader. Franz Fannon, Alistair Horne's history, the film "Battle of Algiers, and recently Feraoun's diary are the ones that readily come to mind. Feraoun was a western educated Algerian and well accquainted with the French. His desire for an independent Algeria was strong, but tempered by a strong sense of historical reality. He reveals the day to day impact of the violence. It is in this respect that the work is most moving, and reveals the senselessness and degradation that occurs to all people involved, Feraoun eventually a victim himself. An essential view of the psychological costs of guerrilla and anti-colonial war.

About life in front of and behind the veil, this book presents a compelling read: the body becomes the battleground for men and women to take ownership of their own bodies, and in some ways, consequently their own minds. I was considering this book for a world literature class, but the sex scenes are a little risque for 10th grade. However, those scenes are not gratutious--they have their place in this book. Perhaps, however, not for 15 year olds, just yet. Djebar writes the book in both first person narrative and directive narrative (second person)--what results is that we're inside the head of one woman and the commanding voyeur with the other. Djebar makes us uncomfortable looking in and directing a woman who clearly wants to escape such structures. What we're left with is an uncomfortable with our positions, but the wiser for having become uncomfortable. A great read! Well worth it.

I thought this book was pretty good. It is a story that follows two women, both wives of the same man. When Hajila sees an "unveiled woman," she too, wants a life "beyond the veil." This book does a good job of describing some of the traditional restraints placed on these women, and how they work to escape them.

I bought this book hoping to find info about the algerian writers mentioned on the back cover, what I found was more interesting.. detailed info about the turbulance in algeria, personal experiences,stories and very important history of a sister country our arab jounalism failed to report and/or bring to us. I was happy to have bought the book.