Welcome to paradise /

A life suddenly collapses and existences are turned upside down, and no one can do a thing about it. So says the young narrator of Binebine's frank and disturbing tale of a group of harragas, the term those who are stateless use to identify themselves. Some harragas have identity papers; others are without, and that is better. If you have them, burn them, because it is harder to repatriate the unidentified, undocumented person. Binebine, a Moroccan educated in France, made his name as a painter before turning to writing. His piercing novel is told in a series of flashbacks. Having paid a fortune, the motley harragas, virtual prisoners of a gruff and silent guide, wait through a cold night for the sign to push a rowboat into the sea to row across the Strait of Gibraltar to Spain, then to travel on to France. Their stories are grim, making for a strong, unsparing novel in which Binebine examines the difference between the fatal and the fateful.--Autrey, Michael Copyright 2010 Booklist

Moroccan painter-novelist Binebine offers a glimpse into the Third World through a masterful account of North Africans trying to sneak across the Straits of Gibraltar into Spain. There's a touch of Casablanca about the tale, except that the refugees here aren't Europeans and the cafÉ they hang out in is a good deal less glamorous than Rick's. Narrator Aziz is biding his time with everyone else at the CafÉ France, a little place on the beach near Tangier, waiting for the arrival of the boat that will smuggle the group into Spain. Most emigrants from North Africa are poor and fairly desperate, but beyond that this is a pretty diverse group, each person bearing (or concealing) some profound grief that drives him or her to flee home under the worst circumstances imaginable. Nuara's case is fairly straightforward: Her husband, Suleiman, has worked in France for years but only recently has stopped sending money home, leading Nuara to fear that he has died or--worse--found another woman. Aziz's cousin Reda still labors under the shame of his mother's suicide, just as Yussef is haunted by the tragic misunderstanding that led his father accidentally to poison most of his large family. The masseur YarcÉ is at loose ends, having been dismissed by his rich English employer, who had promised to take him home to England with him. As they wait in the little cafÉ run by Momo, the thrice-deported Francophile who is the go-between for the smugglers, each of the little group eventually tells his story--all save Aziz, that is, whose own history is murkier and in some ways more troubled than any of the others. When they finally see the light from the ship, all are more than ready to leave. The only remaining question is whether they will arrive. A fine debut: richly atmospheric and evocative, at once a sharply narrated tale of suspense and a carefully constructed memoir of inner grief. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.