An interesting story about life in the poorer areas of Paris. The storyline was insubstantial and lacked purpose. I suspect it would be better to read it in French, however, because there is a jarring combination of English, French and Algerian 'youth-speak', which made me wince several times! ( )

Ahléme is 25 going on 40. She lives on the outskirts of France, with her ailing father and troubled teenage brother, amongst scores of other immigrants from various parts of the world. The family moved to France from Algeria some 15 years before, after her mother had been killed in a massacre in Algeria. But, after all this time, they remain aliens (non-French citizens) in a country thousands of Algerians still dream of.

This mostly-optimistic young lady is not your typical youth. She is a streetwise tomboy who has learned to take care of herself. In addition, she also takes care of her brother — whom she has "raised" since he was a toddler — so her feelings towards him are fiercely maternal, to the extent that she slaps him when she feels he's not being responsible, and gives him a tongue-lashing when the need arises. She also assumes responsibly for her depressed disabled father, who shows increasing signs of decline.

Her saving grace is her sympathetic judicious friend, Aunt Mariatou, who routinely dispenses priceless nuggets of advice, "Man is a jackal, but what woman can do without him? A person needs two hands to clap." She also holds that love is like hair, you have to take care of it!

The book is an easy read, one that will appeal to the younger reader. This gutsy, insightful young woman has a mind of her own, and though she always displays an air of bravado, her vulnerability sometimes shows through. There are some areas where she is particularly vulnerable: in love, as she allows herself to fall in love with an "incredibly desirable nasty character"; at the immigration office, as she awaits renewal of her three-monthly residency permit; and when trying to make a living in France. She remembers life in Algeria fondly and shares glimpses of an African village that is utterly compelling in its stark contrast to the France that she inhabits.

I would have loved this book if the text was not marred by the expletives in the mouth of the protagonist. Perhaps the translator felt it necessary to authenticate the voice of the young person? I felt it diminished the book and devalued Ahléme's natural charm and sharp sense of humor. Still, this is an effortless enjoyable read, if just to glimpse the issues faced by a North African immigrant in a current European setting.

Initially reviewed in Issue 2 of Belletrista: http://www.belletrista.com/2009/issue2/reviews_17.php

This slight book, narrated in relentlessly hip first person, engages with the lives of Algerian immigrants in the suburbs of Paris. Combining a conventional story of young love and the emotionally distant bewilderment of cultural dislocation, this modern mash-up presents an interesting perspective but ultimately doesn't have much to say. ( )

Some Dream for Fools is not about a family to unite in France or to reunite in Algeria. Here, rather, we have split-up family, and their seems to be no solution to that.

The family itself is ever strange. Ahleme, thr first-person speaker, is essentially head of household: her father is apparently disabled from an accident, and her brother is uncontrollable. This book, though, does not fall into sterotype mode and picture Ahleme as bound to the household. Rather, she's up and about, trying out part-time jobs, or simply visiting with friend. The main chacter here is no longsuffering wet blanket.

The book deals with questions of race and religion. One reason those things come up is that Ahleme is a fierce guardian of who she is and where she comes from (but withut any delusional nostalgia). The most astounding gap is the generational tap: she cares both for an invalid and an out-of-control teenager. In some ways, she's the bond that holds the family togeter, because she can communicate with either generation.

Social stratification is in the novel, or perhaps just not that obvious. Anleme takes in the the lower-class haunts and does not waste any time publically calling for change, possibly because this area is "her" home. Nevertheless, she maintans a feeling of fundamental otherness, as if her feelings don't matter because she has much to do and doesn't have time to help herself out. When she feels hurt, frustrated, or hopeless, she often uses that time to turn on her dry wit-- and make the issue go away by changing the subject. Again, she denies herself of the right to be her.

Overall, it had a pretty loose plot (if that bothers you) but is well-condensed in its published form. The supporting characters are fairly well drawn. Recommended. ( )

In this slim novel translated from the French, Ahlème, a 25-year-old Algerian woman living in Paris, struggles with finding a stable job, maintaining her immigration status, taking care of her disabled father, and keeping her teenaged brother out of trouble. Guène’s casual and witty first-person prose, along with the scenes involving Ahlème’s inane girlfriends, impart a distinctive Chick Lit flavor to this novel. Fortunately, there’s an added edge to Ahlème’s story that mitigates some of its frivolity. Take, for example, this excerpt where Ahlème describes her job working at a shoe store:

"I spend my days among feet and I’m remembering that I really hate that. I think a foot is a truly disgusting thing. … I can’t bring myself to look at them. When I have to help a customer try on a shoe, sometimes I think about the Cinderella story and tell myself that if she had disgusting feet, with dirty nails and toes covered in blisters, the story wouldn’t have turned out the same. The prince would have turned on his heels and run after throwing that dirty glass slipper at the bitch’s face."

While Some Dream for Fools is often funny and occasionally interesting, it’s mostly superficial and unsatisfying.

This review also appears on my literary blog Literary License. ( )