Winner of a 2019 French Voices Award
"Devi is alert to the ways in which social forces, such as racism and ageism, are reshaping London’s already complex post-colonial landscape, and her fluid, poetic language memorably conjures a union of two outcasts." —The New Yorker
"The language of the book flows in an unhindered style. . . . in this intriguing, highly unusual novel." —The Irish Times
“Devi maintains a careful balancing act to ensure that our protagonists provoke some degree of empathy and provide an engaging read.” —Asymptote
“A gorgeously written, profoundly upsetting fairy tale of race, class, power, and desire.” —Kirkus Reviews, starred review
"Brutal and entirely believable, a gorgeous and haunting depiction of London and the real lives and memories of those unseen within it." —Publishers Weekly
"This is a novel of great beauty as well as discomfiting disclosure. Ananda Devi’s writing challenges us to reconfigure our own beliefs about right and wrong and to look beyond our own lives to consider the reality of others." —New Internationalist
"A fierce portrait of our times. . . . Sensual and provocative writing, woven of dreams and nightmares, which slowly closes round the reader and holds them in its grasp." —Le Monde des Livres
"Old age always bears a private violence. Ananda Devi describes its inevitable symptoms whilst ever letting us glimpse an illusion of spring." —L’Humanité
“Jeffrey Zuckerman’s translation is perfect in its power and precision, a magnificent gem.” —Jennifer Croft, translator of Flights
"Beautifully written, visceral, and ecstatic. Unafraid, as angels might be, to bear witness to the force of entropy pulling us all toward death." —Preti Taneja, author of We That Are Young
"The finest Mauritian novelist at work today, Ananda Devi has long been the francophone saint of the outcast, the oppressed, and the derelict. This fluid translation of one of her darkest works gives the reader a glimpse at her profound talent and her unique ability to synthesize political rage with poetic lyricism." —Adam Hocker, Albertine
