Luanda, 1975. À la veille de l’Indépendance, Ludovica, agoraphobe et terrorisée par l’évolution des événements, se retranche dans son appartement en construisant un mur qui en dissimule la porte et la met à l’abri du reste du monde. Ayant transformé sa terrasse en potager elle va vivre là presque trente ans, coupée de tout, avec son chien Fantôme et un cadavre. Ludo a vraiment existé et mené la vie que raconte le roman. En entrelaçant cette histoire avec les aventures tumultueuses des autres personnages, voisins ou entraperçus dans la rue, tous plus ou moins impliqués dans le marasme de la gue... continue
An exhilarating debut novel told through three different voices, Whites Can Dance Too is Kalaf Epalanga's reflection on and celebration of the music of his homeland, the intertwining of cultural roots, and freedom and love. It took being caught at a border without proper documents for me to realise I'd always been a prisoner of sorts. Kuduro had been my passport to the world, thanks to it I'd travelled to places I'd never dreamed of visiting. But the chickens had come home to roost . . . Hours before performing at one of Europe's most iconic music festivals, Kalaf Epalanga is detained at the b... continue
A Best Translation of the Year at World Literature Today That Hair is a family album of sorts that touches upon the universal subjects of racism, feminism, colonialism, immigration, identity and memory. Finalist for the 2021 PEN Translation Prize “The story of my curly hair,” says Mila, the narrator of Djaimilia Pereira de Almeida’s autobiographically inspired tragicomedy, “intersects with the story of at least two countries and, by extension, the underlying story of the relations among several continents: a geopolitics.” Mila is the Luanda-born daughter of a black Angolan mother and a white P... continue
With the emotional undertow of Ocean Vuong and the astute political observations of Natalie Diaz, a powerful poetry debut exploring the effects of racism, war and colonialism, queer love and desire. In their breathtaking international debut, Aaiún Nin plumbs the depths of the lived and enduring effects of colonialism in their native country, Angola. In these pages, Nin untangles complexities of exile, the reckoning of familial love, but also reveals the power of queer love and desire through the body that yearns to love and be loved. Nin shows the ways in which faith and devotion serve as form... continue
Vitória nasceu em Angola, mas foi criada em Portugal. A infância, que está longe de idílica (por causa do racismo e da condição de exilada), esconde um trauma: ela nunca conheceu a mãe, uma revolucionária angolana. Narrado com eletricidade, o romance embaralha saudavelmente as formas e as expectativas: é uma história de amor e de guerra, um conto contemporâneo que lida com o passado, um chamado à independência das mulheres como seres políticos.