The Poor Man's Son

"This book was published in 1954 in the midst of Algeria’s independence war when there was a lot of violence. Mouloud Feraoun was one of these rare indigenous children who went to school, became a teacher and quite a brilliant one. He came from the mountains, he’s a Kabyle writer but he had access to a Western education and outlook. He met with Albert Camus and befriended all the great writers of the time. He read William Faulkner (just like Kateb Yacine, by the way). These writers are in a go-between situation, between their native roots and the French outlook. The issue of using the French language—the language of the colonizer—is at the heart of what they do. It’s very much an autobiographical novel. When he talks about the poor man’s son, it’s his own story. He was a great, great figure, Mouloud Feraoun. Albert Camus had great admiration for him as well. Camus was born in Mondovi, which is now Annaba, and grew up in a poor neighborhood of Algiers called Belcourt. He was a very, very poor child. He almost stopped going to school because his few relatives, including his grandmother, wanted him to start making money waxing people’s shoes in the street. His teacher interceded and convinced his grandmother that he had potential and had to stay at school, which he managed to do. He became a Nobel Prize winner in 1957. My book is also a tribute to teachers. It’s not an angry book at all. I’m not settling accounts. I’m just telling our story. But it is the story of France, not just of Algeria. To some extent, it’s also the story of England, with regards to India and its imperial history. It’s to do with moving forward together and not against each other. It’s about forgiveness as well. It’s a tribute to teachers because I’m also the child who benefited. I’m often asked, ‘How do you manage to love France so much after all of this?’ And it’s simple. I don’t confuse horrid capitalism with France. The West cannot be summarized by just a series of exploitations. There are also ideas like feminism, tolerance, inclusion. It’s a constant movement, and there are so many different people that I would hate to generalize and say, ‘the West is like this, or the West is like that.’ The West is also what allows me to express myself about it. I’m passionate about a peaceful approach to things. It’s about inclusion, rather than a judgmental approach. The past is the past. It’s a foreign country, as we all know, and we just need to acknowledge it, but also move forward."