The book was published in Swedish in 2021, translated by Sara Gordan and Kerstin Munck. Cixous, 88, is a central figure in poststructuralist feminism and famous for the essay 'The Laugh of the Medusa' (1975). She has also been a house dramatist for the avant-garde Théâtre de Soleil.
The Berman Prize jury stated that Cixous 'created a poetic memoir that through four generations of testimonies explores the void left by the displaced, maps the absent, and gives voice to the silenced'. According to Dagens Nyheter, Cixous wrote the book to remember her mother Ève, who fled Nazism to Algeria and worked as a midwife. She said she has always lived with her mother's story and memories.
Of course, I am at home in Paris, but through language and literature I am a little bit everywhere, laughs Hélène Cixous when I reach her on her mobile phone.
Her mother often spoke of Osnabrück, which became 'Hitlerified' overnight, and she never wanted to return. Cixous said it was unavoidable to write the book, even though she had previously written about her family's fate. She links her writing to her own experiences growing up in Algeria under colonial rule, which she describes as politically terrible, marked by violence, racism, and humiliation of the Arab population.
According to Svenska Dagbladet, Cixous does not know what 'the Jewish tradition' in singular means and says it is impossible to define.
In my thoughts, for example, I am happy to be in Sweden, even though I am too old to travel far. I love Selma Lagerlöf, whom I have read since I was little. An incredibly rich authorship that captures so many different ways of being human. I also have a great passion for Torgny Lindgren's books. I would have loved to meet him when I was last in Sweden but never had time before he died.
I would say that I wrote the book to remember my mother Ève, an admirable woman and fighter who lived through and survived two German world wars.
I have always lived with this story, with her memories. She often talked about Osnabrück, about her hometown that became 'Hitlerified' overnight. Few Jews survived there and she never wanted to return, even when she was invited. I had to make that journey for her, even geographically.
I think it is connected to my own experiences of growing up in Algeria during colonial times. An enchantingly beautiful country but politically terrible, marked by violence, racism and humiliation of the Arab population.
'The Jewish tradition' in singular? – it is impossible to define.