Everything is alive, there is an impression of the décalage with the presence, the habiter of souvenirs in the world that does not exist, the déjà vieux dans ce pays où the grande majority of residents is not before the genocide.
Gaël Faye, Jacaranda.
Everything happened so fast, I feel like I'm no longer in the present, living in the memories of a world that never existed, already old in this country where the vast majority of the inhabitants were born after the genocide.
Gaël Faye's highly acclaimed novel Little country 1, which was filmed by Éric Barbier and became required reading in German schools, 2 left behind traces of this childhood loss, the political violence, and a feeling of impossible return. Jacaranda (Grasset, 2024) is worth reading for the simple reason that it Little country Not duplicated or replaced, but transformed. The passage of time and the altered perspective require us to reconsider what we have read, to broaden the context, and to examine the characters' unresolved issues. What comes after exile? How does a new generation live with the past? And what new questions does literature pose about identity and memory?
Little country The novel followed a linear, highly autobiographical narrative structure, shaped by the childlike perspective of the protagonist, Gabriel. The story begins with a carefree childhood in Burundi and progresses through political tensions to the horrific events of the Rwandan genocide. This watershed moment irrevocably alters Gabriel's world and alienates him from his origins. Jacaranda In contrast, it is more fragmented, reflective, and multi-perspective. The novel employs flashbacks and fragments of memory to reflect the ruptures and discontinuities of post-war society. Stella, for example, moves between different time periods, her personal story becoming interwoven with the collective memory of Rwanda. The episodic structure is particularly striking, in which past and present intertwine and are linked by poetic imagery. An example of this narrative technique can be found in the first chapter of JacarandaWhen Stella encounters a patient in a hospital, scarred by the horrors of the past, this scene is not only an introduction to Stella's traumatized psyche, but also a symbol for Rwanda itself, a country caught between the shadows of the past and the hope of healing.
Les nuits suivantes, Stella peine à fermer l'œil. De longs sanglots, des gémissements incessants et des hurlements parcourent le bâtiment. In the room you can enjoy the sienne, you will experience an inquiet agitation. Ça gratte. Ça grince. Ça crisse. The matin, l'infirmière quii administrator son traitement lui raconte que the patient d'à côté is a man without age, interné depuis des années. During the day, the chair is facing the window. La night, the ramp on the sun, s'agrippe aux murs de sa chambre. Stella ne there pas, ses angoisses reviennent, vives, acérées. Dans l'obscurité, elle fixede le ceiling, guette les mouvements saccadés des geckos, reste attentive aux bruits de l'homme-cancrelat qui court le long des murs. The hospital is a bateau de night qui recueille l'humanité du fond du gouffre, les grands brûlés de l'effort de reconstruction, les éreintés des pressions familiales, les épuisés des conventions sociales, les déserteurs de la grande comédie humaine. Mais il abrite surtout ces ombres engourdies qui s'excusent d'être encore, ces âmes errantes qui vent dans des contrées sans lumières, coquilles humaines pleines de tourments et de cauchemars impossibles à guérir.
Gaël Faye, Jacaranda.
In the following nights, Stella can barely sleep a wink. Prolonged sobs, incessant groans, and screams echo through the building. In the room next to hers, she senses a disturbing restlessness. There's scratching. Squeaking. Creaking. In the morning, the nurse administering her medication tells her that the patient next door is a man of no age, admitted for years. During the day, he lies on a chair by the window. At night, he crawls on the floor and clings to the walls of his room. Stella doesn't sleep; her fears return, vivid, sharp. In the darkness, she stares at the ceiling, watches the geckos' jerky movements, and listens to the sounds of the cockroach-man crawling along the walls. The hospital is a night-boat, picking up humanity from the bottom of the abyss: the burnt victims of reconstruction, the exhausted by familial pressure, the weary of social conventions, the deserters of the great human comedy. But above all, it houses these numb shadows that apologize for still being there, these wandering souls that live in dark realms, human shells full of torment and incurable nightmares.
After reading Jacaranda appear Little country No longer merely an autobiographically inspired memoir, but rather the prelude to a longer exploration of the postcolonial tragedy of East Africa. The themes of flight and loss remain central, but Jacaranda It broadens our perspective to include living with the shadows of history. The protagonist, Gabriel, from Little country experienced the war as a child; Jacaranda shows how its repercussions become ingrained in the psyche of the next generation. The narrator of Little countryGabriel was a child who witnessed the disintegration of his country and family. Although Gabriel doesn't explicitly return as the protagonist, his story resonates in the experiences of the new characters. There is no complete healing, only attempts to renegotiate life. Jacaranda is not merely a continuation of Little country, but a reflection on what comes after the catastrophe. The world of Little country It does not end with the last chapter, but continues in new stories, new voices and new forms of remembering across four generations.
Gaël Faye's literary universe is expanded with Jacaranda more multifaceted and shows that literature can help to renegotiate history. In Jacaranda There is less a naive hope for homecoming than a deep, poetic reflection on home as a psychological space. Faye thus establishes himself as a chronicler of a lost, but not forgotten, past. While Little country showing the Rwanda conflict from the distanced perspective of a Burundian child, brings Jacaranda The focus shifts to post-genocidal Rwanda itself. Here, it's no longer just about the massacres, but about what comes after: trauma, the rupture between memory and repression, and the question of how a society can redefine itself after a catastrophe. Faye is actively involved in remembering the genocide and searching for fugitive war criminals.
The writer and musician Faye and his sister escaped the Rwandan genocide by living in neighboring Burundi, where their grandmother had fled after earlier massacres. His mother, a Rwandan Tutsi, had become involved with a French adventurer and motorcyclist who became a tour guide. At the age of 13, Faye moved to France, where he had to grapple with the challenges of exile. He found refuge in music, particularly hip-hop, which allowed him to artistically process his identity and experiences. He later studied in London and worked in finance, but found no fulfillment there and returned to music. His lyrics caught the attention of a literary agent who encouraged him to write a novel. Thus, his novel was born. Little country, which was an international success and sold 1,5 million copies. As early as August 24, 2024, ten days after its release, Gaël Faye's second novel topped the sales charts with over 12.000 copies sold; it also received the Prix Renaudot in 2024 and was considered one of the favorites for the Prix Goncourt.
Gaël Faye reveals in an interview with Le Monde 3 Central themes in his writing include grappling with the past, searching for a sense of belonging, and the need to put the unspeakable into words. Faye emphasizes that he no longer feels torn between two countries, two histories, two identities. This development is remarkable because it marks a clear departure from the conflicts that Little country and Jacaranda persevere. While Gabriel, the protagonist of Little countryWhile embodying the disorientation of an exile, Faye's interview shows that it is possible to reconcile oneself with dual belonging. This changes the way we read his novels: they no longer appear as mere laments about loss and alienation, but as stages in a continuous process of self-orientation.
A recurring motif in Faye's work and life is his mother's silence. Her muteness in the face of the horrors of her childhood in the refugee camps and the losses of her family is, for him, a symbol for the entire generation that survived the genocide. This theme lends his novels a particular emotional power: the silence weighs heavily on his characters, and their struggle to break it is the true heart of his writing. A decisive turning point in Faye's life was attending the play Rwanda 94This experience was like an epiphany for him. It helped him understand the silence within his family, the speechlessness surrounding the genocide, and the impossibility of speaking about trauma. This experience explains why his works often possess a poetic, almost musical structure: they attempt to fill the gaps in history with art. In his interview with Raphaëlle Bacqué, Faye emphasizes that the Rwandan genocide should not be understood as an age-old ethnic conflict, but rather as a consequence of colonial influences that politically charged ethnic categories. This insight permeates his novels, lending them an analytical depth that transcends mere narrative. Jacaranda The book picks up on this point particularly by describing the long-term repercussions of these violent classifications. The interview shows that Faye is far more than just a chronicler of violence. He is an author who grapples with questions of identity, memory, and responsibility. Jacaranda This conversation not only appears as a continuation of Little country, but rather as a literary self-affirmation by an author who no longer sees his past as a burden, but as a starting point for a new narrative style.
The plot of JacarandaIt begins with an invitation to Kigali from Milan's mother, which triggers a mixture of resistance and uncertainty in the son. The city is described with all its impressions: heat, dust, unfamiliar smells. The mother remains withdrawn, while Milan is overwhelmed by the atmosphere: unknown, strange, yet familiar. Here he meets Mamie, his grandmother, a strong, strict woman. Their cultural distance is evident in strained communication: Mamie speaks the Bantu language Kinyarwanda with his mother, which further alienates him. Milan's cousin Claude shows him the city and the daily life of the locals, he tells him about Sartre, who survived the genocide and now cares for other orphans. Because of his mother's absence, Milan spends the night in Claude's small, impoverished apartment; the proximity and the simple life intensify his feeling of alienation, but he spends time with the street children and learns their stories. During a telephone conversation with his girlfriend Nadège in France, the tension between Rwanda and France becomes clear. Milan observes a similar scene at a large celebration in the "Palais," the home for street children, which portrays the country as a land of contrasts, between joy and trauma, past and present. Meanwhile, Milan learns of his grandfather's death in France. He returns to Kigali to support Claude, who will face his family's murderers in the tribunal. Claude confronts his family's murderers, while Milan and Sartre are present as observers. Claude withdraws after the trial, while Sartre struggles with the situation. Milan feels crushed by the country's history, and Claude, in his anger, contemplates revenge against the perpetrators. Milan's relationship with Nadège comes to a definitive end: she stays in New York, while he feels increasingly rooted in Kigali. The narrative perspective temporarily shifts to Stella, who is affected by the aftermath of the genocide, even though she was born afterward. She suffers from nightmares and psychological instability. Claude returns to the place of his childhood to reclaim his family land, but the villagers meet him with suspicion; thus, land ownership and social reintegration after the genocide are addressed. Milan and Stella are working together on the life story of their grandmother Rosalie. They transcribe old cassette tapes and thus reconstruct the past, learning about the importance of memory and historical awareness. Milan accompanies Claude to the hills of his childhood. There, Claude confronts the people who are occupying his family's land. The villagers react negatively, and it becomes clear that the wounds of the past are far from healed. Claude, Sartre and Milan eventually organize a farewell party for the "Palais", the home of the former street children from which they are being evicted. During the celebrations, the young men's deep bond becomes apparent, but so does their lack of prospects. Stella recites a moving text about Rosalie, her grandmother, at a school event. This is a highlight for her, as she is carrying on her family's story. Milan, Claude and Sartre try to establish themselves in business, but their attempts fail due to corruption, bureaucracy and the challenges of everyday life; the economic and social barriers for young people in Rwanda are thus vividly illustrated. When Claude reveals his plan to take revenge on one of his family's murderers, Milan and Sartre, in their concern, address the conflict between forgiveness and revenge. Claude actually kidnaps the man responsible for the murder of his family. Finally, he accepts that he will not get his country back and tries to find a new path for himself. Due to her psychological problems, Stella is admitted to a psychiatric clinic. Milan visits them and realizes that the traumas of the genocide are also being passed on to the next generation.
In the final chapter, Milan, Claude, and Stella embark on a boat trip together on Lake Kivu. Milan, who had brought his mother's urn, decides not to scatter her ashes in the lake—a sign that he has come to terms with his complex identity.
Lors des massacres against les étudiants tutsi, en 1973, notre école a été attaquée en pleine journée. Ils ont separé les girls dotsi you reste du groupe et ont ordonné à nos camarades de nous rouer de coups. After this, we are surrounded by a class and certain elements on the promise of revenge with a bidon d'essence pour nous brûler. Viviane, who is extremely sporty and souple, has a real contortion and passes between the barreaux of the windows of the class. Elle est allée chercher les clés et nous a libérées. The evening, now avons retrouvé Eugène, Paul and four other camarades, who also have access to justice in death. Paul is in a piteux état, the box is available and certain parts of the cassées can breathe quickly. Eugène contacted a truck that took the route between Butare and Gisenyi. Il accepté de nous prendre with lui against a good somme d'argent et de nous cacher sous une cargaison d'avocats. On comptait s'enfuir au Zaïre, mais à Kibuye, the chauffeur a été informé qu'il y avait des barrages à la sortie de la ville. Il a pris peur et nous a laissez au milieu de nulle part, au bord du lac Kivu. Eugène and Paul nous ont dit de nous cacher dans une étable abandonnée et ils sont partis chercher de l'aide. Ils sont revenus avec trois pêcheurs qui étaient prêts à nous faire traverser le lac jusqu'à l'île Idjwi, au Zaïre, contre l'equivalent de toutes nos économies. Il n'y avait pas de temps à perdre et nous avons embarqué tous les neuf dans de frêles pirogues. Heureusement, la nuit était profonde, personne ne nous a vus nous éloigner. Eugène and my children in the boat, Paul, Venancia and Viviane in another. Mais au deux heures, la pirogue dans laquelle ils se trouvaient a commencé à prendre l'eau. Les pauvres écopaient autant qu'ils pouvaient mais l'eau montait irrémédiablement. And the students have nothing to worry about. Notre pirogue était bien devant. On our journey, Paul, Viviane and Venancia try to calm the garçon before they panic. Eugène a senti que c'était en train de virer au drama et il a ordonné à notre pêcheur de faire demi-tour au plus vite. This is a moment when the crisis hits. Leur pirogue venait de chavirer. There is also a rodent in the middle. On a ramé le plus vite possible in leur direction mais on n'a pu sauver que Venancia. Les other parts are available in the water of Lake Kivu. Ta grand-mère n'a jamais pardonné à Venancia la mort de Viviane. Elle la tenait pour responsable. Ta mère et ta grand-mère ne se sont pas parlé pendant plus de vingt ans. Jusqu'à votre voyage, en 1998.
Gaël Faye, Jacaranda.
During the massacres of Tutsi students in 1973, our school was attacked in broad daylight. They separated the Tutsi girls from the rest of the group and ordered our classmates to beat us. Afterward, we were locked in a classroom, and some students promised to return with a can of gasoline to burn us alive. Viviane, who was very athletic and flexible, managed to wriggle and slip through the classroom's window bars. She got the keys and freed us. That same evening, we met up with Eugène, Paul, and four other comrades who had also narrowly escaped death. Paul was in a pitiful state; he was limping and certainly had broken ribs, as every breath caused him pain. Eugène knew a truck driver who traveled the route between Butare and Gisenyi. He agreed to give us a ride for a good sum of money and hide us under a load of avocados. We wanted to flee to Zaire, but in Kibuye, the driver was informed that there were roadblocks at the city limits. He got scared and left us stranded in the middle of nowhere on the shore of Lake Kivu. Eugène and Paul told us to hide in an abandoned stable, and they went to get help. They returned with three fishermen who were willing to take us across the lake to Idjwi Island in Zaire for the equivalent of all our savings. There was no time to lose, and all nine of us climbed into rickety dugout canoes. Luckily, it was pitch black night, and no one saw us leaving. Eugène and I were in one boat, Paul, Venancia, and Viviane in another. But after two hours, the boat they were in started taking on water. The poor fellows bailed out as much water as they could, but it kept rising. One of the students with them panicked. Our boat was far ahead. We couldn't see them, but Paul, Viviane, and Venancia tried to calm the panicked boy. Eugène sensed the situation was becoming a tragedy and ordered our fisherman to turn back as quickly as possible. That's when we heard the screams. Their pirogue had just capsized. None of them could swim. We paddled toward them as fast as we could, but we only managed to save Venancia. The others disappeared into the waters of Lake Kivu. Your grandmother never forgave Venancia for Viviane's death. She blamed her. Your mother and grandmother didn't speak to each other for more than twenty years, until your trip in 1998.
Lake Kivu, a symbolic landmark, forms the border between Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo. Water holds tragic significance in Rwandan history—during the 1994 genocide, many bodies were dumped into rivers and lakes, as if the water were meant to erase the traces of the crime. Milan's mother, Venancia, harbored a lifelong fear of water, stemming from a traumatic experience in her youth: during an escape attempt across Lake Kivu in 1973, the boat she was in with her twin sister, Viviane, sank. Venancia was the sole survivor, while Viviane and her lover, Paul, drowned. This guilt and trauma haunted her throughout her life, manifesting in her obsession with learning to swim. Her death is thus described not merely as a biological end, but as a final "submersion" into a past she could never escape. For Milan, however, the lake is not only a place of death, but also a place of reflection. Venancia's death marks a decisive turning point for Milan. It is not only the loss of his mother, but also the final break with his life in France and the beginning of a deeper exploration of his Rwandan identity. He keeps her ashes and ultimately consciously decides against scattering them in Lake Kivu. This demonstrates his desire not to erase the past, but to accept it as part of his identity. The shared glide across the lake in the boat marks a moment of stillness and reflection after the turbulent events of the novel. The movement across the water suggests both a journey and a transition. Milan carries the urn containing his mother's ashes. His original plan was to scatter them here in the water, to give her and himself a symbolic closure. Instead, Milan accepts that his identity does not lie in a simple choice for or against Rwanda or France, but in the reconciliation of both.
Milan, Claude, and Stella are all shaped by Rwandan history—in different ways, but sharing common traumas. Claude is a genocide survivor, Stella is a child born after the war who nevertheless suffers from the trauma, and Milan is a returnee trying to understand his roots. Together on the water, they symbolize the different ways of dealing with the past: confrontation, suffering, reflection—but also hope. Despite the gravity of the themes, the film ends Jacaranda Not in despair, but in a moment of calm and reflection. There is no forced closure, but a gentle acceptance of uncertainty. This suggests that it is possible to live with the wounds of the past. Milan is no longer the insecure boy torn between two worlds. Instead, he has learned that belonging doesn't mean having to choose a side—but rather acknowledging both.
On the terrace, the pépiement des oiseaux recouvrait the rumeur ouatée de la ville. There's a break in there. The rosée impresses everything. “Do it back,” chant a voice in my heart. The soleil a percé à travers les nuages, laissant apparatus un bout de ciel bleu où un milan est passé comme une éclipse. In the suivant of the eyes, in the jacaranda couvert de mousse, it is aperçu in a forme sur the branch la plus haute. Stella. Au lieu de l'appeler, j'ai décidé d'escalader l'arbre, malgré le lichen qui rendait le tronc glissant. Elle était plongée dans ses pensées, le regard à la dérive dans la clarté bleme du petit matin.
— J'aurais dû me douter que tu étais dans ton arbre.
Gaël Faye, Jacaranda.
On the terrace, the birdsong drowned out the dull sounds of the city. I paused. The dew soaked everything. "You're back," sang a voice in my head. The sun broke through the clouds, revealing a strip of blue sky through which a kite glided like a solar eclipse. Watching it in the moss-covered jacaranda, I spotted a figure on the highest branch. Stella. Instead of calling her, I decided to climb the tree, even though the trunk was slippery with lichen. She was lost in thought, her gaze wandering in the pale dawn.
"I should have guessed you were up in your tree."
The jacaranda tree has been a silent witness to the family history for many years. The Hutu propaganda station Radio des Mille Collines allegedly heralded the beginning of the genocide against the long-legged Tutsis with the following sentence: "Cut down the big trees." 4 Milan recalls his childhood beneath the tree's protective canopy, sitting on the terrace with his mother, Venancia, and Rosalie, Stella's grandmother. The tree symbolizes continuity amidst upheaval, serving as the family's "living memory" and embodying themes such as remembrance, identity, loss, and change. It is not merely a physical location but also an emotional and historical anchor for the characters, particularly for Milan and Stella: "His friend, his childhood, his universe. His jacaranda." A constant in a world marked by loss. In one of the novel's most powerful revelations, Milan learns that Stella's siblings are buried beneath the jacaranda—victims of genocide. The inscriptions of their names on the bark transform the tree into a memorial to the unspeakable. This revelation alters the perception of the tree: it is no longer just a refuge but also a memorial to the horrors of the past. When Stella discovers that her mother, Eusébie, has decided to have the tree cut down to make way for a modern villa, it leads to Stella's admission to a psychiatric hospital. Milan has a more ambivalent relationship with the tree. At first, he sees it only as part of someone else's past, but gradually he comes to understand its significance for himself. He reflects on the jacaranda's role as a symbol of familial roots and realizes that Stella is losing something essential to her—while he himself still doesn't understand the true meaning of his mother's loss. The construction of the villa in place of the tree represents the transformation underway in Rwanda—a country rapidly developing and modernizing, often at the expense of its past. The jacaranda is replaced by a "bâtiment de style Dubaï," a soulless piece of modern architecture that erases the garden and its history. This change illustrates how the country is shedding its past to look to the future, while individuals like Stella and Milan long to hold onto their own story.
Chez Eusébie and Stella, the parcel is meconnaissable. À la place du jacaranda, the chantier is bien advanced and prend tout l'espace de ce qui était autrefois the garden. The grand panneau of the permis de construction dévoile the plan in three dimensions of the future building: a villa of style Dubai, cubic and froide, with parking space and palmiers of Miami. In the salon, Stella sits on the canapé, occupies the scroller on Instagram and Eusébie – just the nominated head of the cabinet in a minister – it is on the phone with its collaborators. Elles se jettent sur moi, m'embrassent, partagent ma tristesse et me répètent « condoléances ». Sur la terrace où nous nous installations, the view is désolante. Nous contemplons le chantier, sa bétonnière et son échafaudage. Stella wants to sort out the hospital, she has a passion for me. Eusébie is also fatiguée. Elle travaille encore plus que lorsqu'elle était députée. The camera is on the main smartphone and responds to the WhatsApp messages intempestifs.
Gaël Faye, Jacaranda.
Eusébie and Stella's property is unrecognizable. Where the jacaranda tree once stood, the construction site is well advanced, occupying the entire space that was once the garden. The large building permit sign displays the three-dimensional plan of the future building: a Dubai-style villa, cubic and cold, with a concrete parking area and palm trees imported from Miami. In the living room, Stella lies on the sofa, scrolling through Instagram, while Eusébie—recently appointed chief of staff in a ministry—is on the phone with her employees. They rush to me, embrace me, share my grief, and repeatedly offer their condolences. On the terrace where we settle, the view is bleak. We look at the construction site, the cement mixer, and the scaffolding. Stella has just been discharged from the hospital; she still seems weak. Eusébie also appears tired. She's working even harder than when she was a member of parliament. She chats while holding her smartphone, answering unsolicited WhatsApp messages.
Gaël Fayes Jacaranda is directly related to his previous novel Little country and expands its thematic and poetological dimensions. The time that has passed since the first volume, the changed historical contexts, and the new generation of characters create a complex sequel that simultaneously maintains continuity and explores new narrative paths. The time gap between the two novels is almost three decades. Little country The film, which primarily focuses on the early 1990s in Burundi and Rwanda, particularly the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi, shifts its focus from Jacaranda on post-genocidal society in Rwanda. The processing of the past, dealing with trauma, and the attempts of the new generation to define identity and belonging within a changing social and political structure are now paramount. Rwanda is in Jacaranda No longer the site of an imminent or ongoing conflict, but a society in flux, caught between preserving memory and striving for economic progress. The modernization of the country, visible in its architecture, urbanization, and new social structures, is juxtaposed with the individual fates of the characters, who continue to grapple with the past. This is Tiphaine Samoyault's assessment in Le Monde“Gaël Faye responds to the silence with a dense narrative. His text is powerful, generous, and comprehensive. He reveals the gaps, but he also fills them. His characters run up against walls, but they manage to overcome them and unleash the truth.” Jacaranda It has an educational and healing effect. The author's narrative skill allows him to make the genocide and its consequences (migration, Gacaca reconciliation tribunals, memorials, post-traumatic stress disorder) understandable to those who are unfamiliar with it or have only learned about it from afar, through numerous unique and endearing characters. Rwanda is not only a small country, but also a young one. Almost three-quarters of the population were born after the genocide. They, too, have a right to know, just like the younger generations in France: accounts of extreme violence do not absolve us of extreme violence, but they help those who experienced it to no longer hold back their tears, and help readers to suffer and reflect with them. 5
Stylistically, it remains Jacaranda the poetic, sensual language of Little country loyal, but further developments are visible. While Little country still strongly influenced by Gabriel's childlike perspective, shows Jacaranda A more mature, reflective exploration of memory and identity. The language is less innocent and increasingly narrates from the perspective of characters aware of the gravity of the historical events. Another poetic feature is the significance of places and symbols. The jacaranda tree is introduced as a leitmotif, alluding to both permanence and the inevitability of change. Little country Nature was often a refuge for young Gabriel; in Jacaranda It becomes a carrier of memories and a projection surface for grief and hope. Jacaranda unfolds the long-term consequences of the in Little country The novel recounts the events and examines them from a new, more mature perspective. The literary sequel transcends a personal reckoning and presents a reflection on memory, identity, and the transformation of a society after a profound crisis. Gaël Faye succeeds in establishing the sequel as an independent work that nevertheless integrates organically into the narrative universe of the original novel. Little country inserts
This article is written in German and can be found at https://rentree.de. Automatic translations into English and French are available. English, French.
Notes- Grasset, 2016, German: “Kleines Land”, Piper, 2017.>>>
- See the 2017 edition by Éditions Klett and the Reclam reading guide by Pia Keßler for school purposes with summary, interpretation, exam questions and learning glossary.>>>
- “Gaël Faye, écrivain: « Aujourd'hui, je ne suis plus écartelé entre le Rwanda et la France »”, propos recueillis by Raphaëlle Bacqué, Le MondeNovember 10, 2024.>>>
- “Abattez les grands arbres.” Fabrice Gaignault, “Dans l'intimité de Gaël Faye, l'auteur à succès de Jacaranda”, Le Figaro, 24. September 2024.>>>
- "Au silence Gaël Faye répond par le plein du récit. Son texte est efficace, généreux, enveloppant. Il montre les béances, mais il les comble. These personnages se heurtent à des murs, mais ils parviennent à les effriter et à laisser sortir la vérité. Jacaranda a une vertu didactique et réparatrice. Son art du récit permet au romancier, à travers des personnages nombreux, particularisés et attachants, de faire comprendre the génocide et ses suites (migrations, tribunaux gacaca pour la réconciliation, mémoriaux, chocs post-traumatiques) à qui ne les connaîtrait pas ou ne les aurait apprise que de loin. Le Rwanda isn't just a small child, it's also a young person. The three quarters of the population are not before the genocide. Eux also ont le droit de savoir, tout comme les jeunes générations en France: les récits de la les larmes couler à l'intérieur, et à Cells and parts that can be refluxed and souffered with everything.” Tiphaine Samoyault, “« Jacaranda », de Gaël Faye”, Le Monde, 26. September 2024.>>>
