© « Tin-n-Ouahr ». Preliminaries for all volumes/ Préliminaires à tous les tomes.

soldats_plombroyauteroutepk_zerosourceultime_debarcadere

NB: Les textes originaux en français se trouvent toujours sous les chapitres traduits en anglais.

Common page introducting all books

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« Comrades, we have all been lead  soldiers.»

 


(In "Breathlessness" Volume 4 "Kp Zero" Chapter X)

Prologue

I knew Tewfiq Baali at N’goussa, one of the doors of the Great South, beyond the billowing copper of Dokharas, the land of kings Tuggurts. How far is it now, but still striking reality !

At the time of chronic follow, I was fulfilling my military service as chief scribe at the court of the garrison. A round of khaki leather, only … Although, I have never had whatsoever to countersign any judgment. Indeed, my colleagues and I were regarded by the hierarchy as archivists at the most…

Hey! What are asking reservists, the ultimate passive inhibition, except to go to the mattresses ? In contrast, our leaders never could have imagined, even that time a heartbeat, we also had an irreducible duty to remember to place of future generations. Hence the emergence of this script, which has somehow sunk of source.

All started for us when the military administration had sent us orders to call at the age of majority, or four to five years later for those like me who pursued higher education. Among the thousands of conscripts who assigned here and there in the barracks at random, often without prior selection in relation to their academic or professional qualifications, there are three types of recruits:

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© Symbolics of the novel/Symboliques de l’oeuvre.

Symbolic of the saga.

(…)

However, during all these years of school, he often felt the soft look Fouzya Dorbani weigh on him in the playground , in the halls of permanence, in the refectory of the boarding school, in the street. And once , in a dream. She was his teacher , leaning towards him, curious to read what he had written on his sheet preparation. She realized that the pen student stumbled in search of a particular formulation . She took it , read it, and added the following :

«Shortness of breath . »

Then she said, in a tone of explanation :

«Life is a waste of breathlessness. »

Since then, Fouzya Dorbani detectable in the eyes of Tewfiq Baali anything but impassive . And the little she guessed was for him, at once, the beginning of a long wonder and a tough resolution. He decided to climb to higher levels of let fall behind rivals in the fog caused by the breath of the speed of a meteor school competition.

______________________

(In Volume 1 , Chapter Three )

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anonymous, hungry, fuzzy…/Anonyme, starving, fuzzy…

Symbolic of the novel.

 

«Comrades, we were all tin soldiers .»

______________________

(In Volume 1 , Tin soldiers , Chapter Seventeen )

Symbolic of Volume 1

(…)

Chief Warrant Officer marks a time of reflection, draws another puff , holding his breath . Then he looks over the heads. It seems an intimate setting with a distant painful gravity, before returning once again his gaze to the hallway, fearing certainly an inopportune arrival. Only then, all expiring smoke from his lungs , he continues in a low voice , his tone slow, very slow , surrounded by dense halo of infected tobacco army :

«Between Tinhert . and Tassili -n- Haggers … Beyond Erg Issaouane , to where the sun sets , the ancients said , lies a barren land … fierce … hostile … dark … terrible…

This is the kingdom of Tin -n- Ouahr . »

And the sergeant added , after a moment of silence :

« Terrible as that place .. »

______________________

(In Tin-n-Ouahr , Volume 1 , Chapter Five )

 

Symbolic of Volume 2

 

 » (…)

– I came to the army to perform a duty , sir . On behalf of the true republican values and citizenship .

– You dream it, lieutenant, said the commander , with his characteristic wrinkling of eyes. Where do you see the republic?

– In my head, and my actions , at least . I do not forget that we suffer the dictates an illegitimate regime , from a coup.

– Do not say that to anyone, Baali . You neutralize mercilessly .

– No matter , sir . I ‘m not afraid . I inherited from my ancestors a high sense of dignity and honor . Our people , the majority thinks like me . Unlike it does not say with one voice and frankly do not lift off as one man. Just like our martyrs who died for their free spirited people! Yes, the current government is only … kingdom without effigy. But it will eventually disappear one day or the other, because from birth he sowed the seeds of its own destruction.»

__________________________

(In Volume 2, Chapter Thirteen )

Symbolic of Volume 3

(…)

They fall asleep gradually, one in the arms of another, in so brief marine tranquility of the early morning. They superbly ignore what tomorrow reserves. But then, to where this time on the road, Tewfiq?

_____________________

(In Chapter Twenty- One)

Symbolic of Volume 4

 

 » (…)

– I do not need to remind you that for another time … I consider the issue of Tewfiq Baali as definitively closed ! … send him where you know (Pk-Zero) ! …

– At your service, sir ! »

________________________

(In Chapter Three)

Symbolic of Volume 5

 

(…)

They dug, dug with their fleshless hands (…). They did gush , my God , a generous source.

__________________________

(In Chapter Nine)

 ———————————————-

Symbolique de la saga.

Pourtant, pendant toutes ces années du lycée sentait souvent le tendre regard de Fouzya Dorbani peser sur lui, dans la cour de recréation, dans les salles de permanence, dans le réfectoire du pensionnat, dans la rue. Et une fois, dans un rêve. Elle était son institutrice, penchée vers lui, curieuse, pour lire ce qu’il avait écrit sur sa feuille de rédaction. Elle se rendit compte que le stylo de l’élève butait, à la recherche d’une formulation particulière. Elle le prit, lut et ajouta à la suite :

«Essoufflements.»

Puis elle lui dit, sur un ton d’explication :

«La vie est un gâchis d’essoufflements.»

Depuis lors, Fouzya Dorbani décela dans le regard de Tewfiq Baali autre chose que de l’impassibilité. Et le peu qu’elle devinât fut pour lui, à la fois, le début d’un long émerveillement et d’une coriace résolution. Il avait décidé de se hisser à des niveaux supérieurs, de laisser choir les rivaux derrière lui dans le brouillard provoqué par le souffle de la vitesse d’un météore de la compétition scolaire.

__________________________

(In Tome 1, Chapitre Trois)

 

Symbolique de l’oeuvre.

 

«Camarades, nous avons tous été des soldats de plomb.»

______________________

(In Tome 1, Soldats de plomb, Chapitre Dix-sept)

 

Symbolique du Tome 1er

(…)

L’adjudant-chef marque un temps de réflexion, aspire une autre bouffée de cigarette, en retenant sa respiration. Puis il lève les yeux au-dessus des têtes. Il semble fixer un lointain intime avec une douloureuse gravité, avant de reporter une fois de plus son regard vers le couloir, craignant certainement un arrivant inopportun. Alors seulement, tout expirant la fumée de ses poumons, il enchaîne à voix basse, d’un ton lent, très lent, entouré par le dense halo de l’infect tabac de l’armée :

«Entre Tinhert. et Tassili-n-Haggers… Au-delà de l’Erg Issaouane, vers là où le soleil se couche, disaient les anciens, s’étend une terre aride… farouche … hostile… ténébreuse… redoutable. C’est le royaume de Tin-n-Ouahr.»

Et le sous-officier d’ajouter, après un moment de silence :

«Terrible que cet endroit-là..»

_________________________

(In Tin-n-Ouahr, Tome 1, Chapitre Cinq)

 

Symbolique du Tome 2

 » (…)

– Je suis venu à l’armée pour accomplir un devoir, mon commandant. Au nom des vraies valeurs républicaines, et de la citoyenneté.

– Vous rêvez, lieutenant, dit le commandant, avec son plissement des yeux si caractéristique. Où voyez-vous la république ?

– Dans ma tête, et mes actes, du moins. Je n’oublie pas que nous subissons les diktats qu’un régime illégitime, issu d’un coup de force.

– Ne dites pas cela devant n’importe qui, Baali. On vous neutralisera sans pitié.

– Peu importe, mon commandant. Je n’ai pas peur. J’ai hérité de mes ancêtres un sens élevé de la dignité et de l’honneur. Notre peuple, en majorité, pense comme moi. À la différence qu’il ne le dit pas d’une seule voix et ne se soulève pas franchement, comme un seul homme. À l’image de nos martyrs, qui sont morts pour ce leur peuple vive libre ! Oui, le pouvoir actuel n’est qu’une… royauté sans effigie. Mais il finira bien par disparaître un jour ou l’autre, car dès sa naissance il a semé les graines de sa propre destruction.»

______________________

(In Tome 2, Chapitre Treize)

 

Symbolique du Tome 3

(…)

Ils s’endorment peu à peu, l’un dans les bras de l’autre, dans la si brève quiétude marine du petit matin. Ils ignorent superbement ce que leur réserve demain. Mais alors, vers où cette fois, sur la route, Tewfiq ?

______________________

(In Chapitre Vingt et Un)

 

Symbolique du Tome 4

 » (…)

– Je n’ai pas besoin de vous rappeler pour ça une autre fois… je considère le dossier de Tewfiq Baali comme définitivement clos!… envoyez-le où vous savez!…

– A vos ordres, mon Général !»

_________________

(In Chapitre Trois)

 

Symbolique du Tome 5

(…)

Ils creusèrent, creusèrent de leurs mains décharnées (…). Ils firent jaillir, ô mon Dieu, une source généreuse.

_______________________________

(In Chapitre Neuf)
Link to all volumes:
 
English Version, by robotic translator (Extracts)+ original French Text below ( Les extraits du texte original en Français sont en toujours sous la traduction en Anglais)
 
English translation:
http://tin-n-ouahr.blogspot.com
French Version (Texte intégral):
http://tin-n-ouahr1.blogspot.com
http://tin-n-ouahr2.blogspot.com
http://tin-n-ouahr3.blogspot.com
The original texts in French can also be found at this following address:)
http://elkadiri.canalblog.com

© Author biography/Biographie de l’auteur.

L’auteur a entamé cette oeuvre à l’âge de vingt ans/The author began this writing at the age of twenty years 

L'auteur à vingt ans.

L’auteur à vingt ans.

L'auteur aujourd'hui

L’auteur aujourd’hui

Biography dedicated by one of his friends, now disappeared.

Mohamed Djamel El Kadiri was born in 1953. Political scientist by training, he is came early to writing, later for publication, by taste and quality requirement.nHis novels is talented, but harsh and incisive. It depicts with a startling reality the vicissitude of the intellectuals in his country. His « literary time » leaves the reader with a strange feeling of duration, captive and held in suspense until the last sentence.

—————————–

Biographie dédicacée par un de ses amis, aujourd’hui disparu.

Mohamed-Djamel El Kadiri est né en 1953. Politologue de formation, il est venu tôt à l’écriture, tard à la publication, par goût et exigence de qualité. Son œuvre romanesque est talentueuse, mais âpre et incisive. Il dépeint avec une saisissante réalité les vicissitudes de la condition d’intellectuel dans son pays. Son «temps littéraire» laisse au lecteur une impression étrange de durée, qui captive et tient en haleine jusqu’à la dernière phrase.

Link to all volumes:
 
English Version, by robotic translator (Extracts)+ original French Text below ( Les extraits du texte original en Français sont en toujours sous la traduction en Anglais)
 
English translation: 
http://tin-n-ouahr.blogspot.com
French Version (Texte intégral):
http://tin-n-ouahr1.blogspot.com
http://tin-n-ouahr2.blogspot.com
http://tin-n-ouahr3.blogspot.com
The original texts in French can also be found at this following address:)
http://elkadiri.canalblog.com

© El Kadiri’s Novels/Romans d’El Kadiri

Writings of author:

© Volume 1: «Tin soldiers», 496 pages

© Volume 2: «Kingdom without effigy», 461 pages

© Volume 3 : «To where, this time, on the road, Tewfiq? », 485 pages

© Volume 4: «Kp-Zero», 474 pages

© Volume 5: «They did gush, ô my God, a generous source. », 445 pages

  • Volume 6: « Renaissance » (Writing)
    Important: These books are protected by copyright.

————————————-

Du même auteur :

©  Tome 1 : «Soldats de plomb», 496 pages

© -Tome 2 : «Royauté sans effigie », 461 pages

© -Tome 3 : «Vers où cette fois, sur la route, Tewfiq ? », 485 pages

© -Tome 4 : «Pk-Zéro», 474 pages

© -Tome 5 : «Ils firent jaillir, ô mon Dieu, une source généreuse. », 445 pages

  • Tome 6 : «Ultime débarcadère» (En cours d’écriture)
    Important: Ces livres sont protégés par droits de copyright
Link to all volumes:
 
English Version, by robotic translator (Extracts)+ original French Text below ( Les extraits du texte original en Français sont en toujours sous la traduction en Anglais)
 
English translation:
http://tin-n-ouahr.blogspot.com
French Version (Texte intégral):
http://tin-n-ouahr1.blogspot.com
http://tin-n-ouahr2.blogspot.com
http://tin-n-ouahr3.blogspot.com
The original texts in French can also be found at this following address:)
http://elkadiri.canalblog.com

 

© « Soldats de plomb. », Tome 1, Chapitre 1er, Roman / « Tin soldiers », Volume 1, Chapter 1, Novel.

soldats_plomb

« Tin-n-Ouahr » ,

Volume 1 «Tin soldiers»

Chapter One

 

Tewfiq Baali opens aside the curtain of the attic plunged into darkness . Reflected by the aluminum coating on the terrace, the glare of the midday sun penetrates deeply , by flashing his retina deep in the brain , depriving him momentarily of the sight. He tries to protect his eyes with the back of his fingers. In vain. The phosphorescent footprint of radius has already invaded the black of the aqueous humor, and persists feverishly into.  A few seconds tick away without heavy he could move , his meaning  frozen by a strange lack . He suddenly dizzy . And nausea. After an effort that seems daunting, on the verge of collapse, he manages to stagger blindly towards the door.

The stiff back leaning against the adjacent wall, he expects the torpor which paralyzes deigns to dissipate before going down . Ah , it would have a treasure if he could find the deep sleep that would have spared him this inadvisable out! All morning he had to settle for a painful drowsiness, naked body dripping with sweat and stirred painful cramps stomach.

He wanted so much to wait for the darkness to win ! The idea of leaving is tough and does not want to leave . In fact , he can not stay longer at Mezghena . It has nothing to do there. He played there all his cards. The passion that has remained palpitating so long in his heart gradually fades . What did he do for a month otherwise than trying to make it last through the hope of waiting? This expectation has become too long, too uncertain. This vow , who married in any pretext innocence and illusions, refusing proudly the seductive interference of  occult forces.

Gradually he recovers his senses and can advance to the level of the floor. Oddly, today , it has the uncomfortable feeling that every level who he descended moves away him from the goal he tried unsuccessfully to reach so far, and an invisible enemy not ceased to delight him. Surely , this shabby floor, at fauve painting, can only lead to the cruel realities of life that are indifference , malice , selfishness , betrayal , hypocrisy , greed, deception , the abuse of authority.

Outside, the streets are deserted and hot . The heatwave still imprisons people in their homes , with the exception of a few stalkers to stunned traits bobbing on the wide sidewalks. One might think they are hungry and thirsty. Rather they are in a kind of daze, that fasting can not justify itself . The atmosphere is full of a kind of misty dust, apocalyptic look. The facades of the buildings seem to flicker constantly under the weight of the heat. The asphalt pavement to reach some areas the degree of liquefaction .

A hot  breath likcs the face of Tewfiq Baali, at  threshold of dilapidated building where he lived for four years. He descends to the Debussy Street, along a sidewalk overheated and headed resolutely toward the center boulevards . It searches the shadows, hugging the walls . It evolves with difficulty. He blinks constantly eyes. His tongue is pasty . He swallows hard saliva. Traffic is at zero, except for a bus that passes a given point, with the characteristic scraping of tires on the pavement in his lane of traffic. A housewife shakes inconsiderate a sheet on her balcony . Dig a cat in a bin with caution .

In walking , he thinks the other life could continue for him in Switzerland , if his father had not decided to return at the country to independence . Certainly a different existence in more ways than one , the one he led to beating drums since leaving there. It was just the age of eight .

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