So Vast the Prison by Assia Djebar

So Vast the Prison Reviews

• 
  Old Man and the Read

  This is a fictional semi-autobiography of the author. Djebar's prose was superb but her story telling was written in a way that had a very strong vagueness and detachment to it that made it confusing. The book is broken into three sections. The first is about an infatuation the protagonist had with a younger man she called "her beloved" while she was still married, although it was a very bad marriage. The second section was basically a history of the fall of Carthage that didn't seem to have anything to do with the rest of the book and the third section was a compilation of different stories, mostly about herself as a film maker and about various women family members. There were parts of the book that were brilliant, for example a story about her grandmother who was married to a very old man when she was fourteen, but much of the book was just too disjointed to be an enjoyable read.
• 
  Moushine Zahr

  I read the original French edition of this book. This is the second novel I've read from this author. This novel falls in the category of non-fiction novel being partly a semi-autobiography of the author and author's mother and grand-mother. Although I gave the same rating to this book than to the historical-fiction "Children of new world", I like the first book I've read much better than this one.
  
  This book is divided in 3 parts:
  
  - the first part is about the author/narrator's own autobiography focused on an unsual and undeclared love relationship she had with a man younger than her while being married with 2 children. The author used a complex writing style making it difficult for the readers to understand the whole story in detail. I understood that she had an on and off relationship with this younger man during several years until she revealed it to her husband and then realized that her 'boyfriend' wasn't worth it anyway. She left both the husband and the boyfriend to be alone and free. I found this part to be the most boring part of the book because of the complex writing style used, the relationship with the younger man wasn't really romantic, the message the author tried to convey was difficult to comprehend.
  
  - the second part is about the discovery of a mysterious writing scripts on a stele from centuries ago by various anthropologist, the history behind this stele, and the connection of these unknown writings to a still spoken language. The writing style in this part is much simpler than the first part. This part was my favorite part to read because it was all new to me and interesting to read about.
  
  - in the third part, the author returned to the same complex writing style than in the first part. This last part was mostly about the author's mother and grandmother's biography, their lives with respect to man and traditions. This part is also interesting because it gives the evolution of the Algerian family and traditions through several generations and through the perspective of women. In addition, the author added some memories of her own childhood and of when she was shooting a movie in rural areas centered on women. These short stories were not so interesting and not necessarily linked to each other.
  
  This non-fiction novel centered on women and language could have been a great book if the writing style was less complex, the various stories were directly related and connected, and better structured and organized to make it easier to understand the novel and the messages it tried to convey to the readers.
  
  
• 
  Jill

  This translation of Djebar's Vaste est la prison obscures the intricacy of her language. Blame the translator, not the writer.
• 
  helia

  The idea that the global novel form indicates a bounded social universe is widely disseminated in many English literature departments. Globalisation being the context for this simultaneous and uneven modern condition. I can’t help but grieve for Djebar who is branded ‘women writer’ or ‘novelist’. In many ways she defines l’écriture féminine as a defiant but impossible task. This text is hybrid. Unafraid to delve into the plundering of cultural memory by colonial exploits written in difficult academic language, fall into the poetic medium or narrate from the camera’s gaze. Representing the soma of the woman enwrapped in the male gaze becomes a matter of encircling through multi-media and then forgetting. Any affect forged in language must be erased as the arche-trace. Making its importance felt against the backdrop of fire. Oppression has often been considered intrinsic to colonised women, on the basis of the double-edged sword of race and gender. In resistance from all forms of representation, the veiled woman retreats inwards, refusing to talk or grieve outwardly. Riding with the shadows of enlightenment are absent, silent women. Even within the prison the cinders of the arche-trace are felt:
  
  “But have I really left it behind? A prison whose walls keep widening, whose sentence keeps lengthening, like the effects of time on Saharan frescoes as they appear, then disappear, little by little, on prehistoric cave walls- were they dreamed of, or truly encountered?” (Anamnesis in the Language of Writing” Djebar)
  
• 
  Oanh

  I just failed to get into the writing, which makes me feel a bit guilty as Assia Djebar gets such accolades. The story and writing were just too passive, languid, inert and ennervating (yes, I'm aware, all potentially synonyms, but different connotations each). I am going to blame the translation, my current need for light reading, the position of the moon and stars in the sky and that the library would not let me renew it a fifth time.
• 
  Sohum

  Djebar is a gifted writer, I know. And I enjoyed about 75 percent of this book (part 2 was a little off-putting, although I enjoyed how the threads came to resolution at the end). However, I can't help but sense that there is some profound essence of this novel lost in translation.
• 
  Janna Shaftan

  I try my hand at living, that is at looking, one eye turned wide open to the sky and sometimes toward others, the other eyes turned inward where it rediscovers..
  
  over and over again, a year before starting the film, i would lie in my bed, thinking alone. (coming through a tight spot then, I did not speak, I mean I really did not speak to anyone, I did not confide in anyone and moreover I did not write either for myself or for anyone else..)
  and, to myself, justifying a fierce desire for silence and enclosure, i would repeat this litany, always the same: I speak, I speak, I speak, I do not want them to see me..
  
  it wakes you up and sets you on guard against some possible surrender, against the danger of a river of tears inside you overflowing
  
  Shall I call the narrator Isma once again? “Isma”: “the name”. In the mixing confluences of this evocation, out of superstition or fearing pagan omens, I would so much like to extract her from her earlier exaltation, after the emotions that shook her ...
  
  to the shores of the lake of serenity!
  
  Favorite part:
  
  The serenity that is called sakina in Arabic: not the sudden transparency of being that, they say, shortly precedes the coming of death, no! but the serenity of passages that seem never to need to end. As they stream by, sakina- serenity-fills your heart and soul, reinforces you with liquidity, nourishes you wish surfeit, while around you everything tips and capsizes and changes. And you have decided to go forward, eyes cast downward, to follow the path mysteriously traced out on the ground for you.
  
  The sakina of a person who knows how to keep sight of the road, of a blind man who sees best at night...
  
  But everything else, living and dying, the masculine (that is, the nationalist pride) and the feminine (the lucidity. That makes one strong or drives one crazy) nature of what I believe to be the soul of this land, the rest is draped in sheets of dust, in French words making the unformed voice, the gurgles, then disowned Berber, and barbarous sounds, modulated melodies made Arab, and laments - yes, the multiform voice of my genealogy. How hard it is for me to free myself from it!
• 
  Himali Kothari

  The novel is sliced in three parts. The first part introduces the reader to Isma's present life. The narrative style of this part is dreamy and I feel that Isma's caught me by wrist and pulling me along as I float through her story. I must move along at her pace, I cannot take my mind off for a second or I need to backtrack and read again.
  
  The second part is a detailed history lesson on Algeria of the ancient times. If it has a relevance to the plot, it is lost on me. I drudge through it but don't retain a single detail. And I almost give up on the book. I skip a few pages, and hurry on to the rest of Isma's story.
  
  The third part starts with Isma in the present as the director of a documentary - Arable Woman. This part alternates between Isma's experience directing the film and her memories as a child and the stories she has heard of her mother and other ancestors. Once again, Isma has me tagging along with her and once again I must keep pace.
  
  The underlying theme of the so-called modern woman connects as it is much like in India today...a constant struggle between balancing the present with tradition, the superficial with what is deep-rooted in the collective psyche of society.
  
  It is not an easy read and I would recommend skipping the history lesson entirely. But, what struck me is the similarity in traditions and mindsets here at home to a country somewhere in Africa.
• 
  Elie

  I will never read another book by Assia Djebar. They all devolve into an orientalist take on Arab men as women's "enemy" and consistently force Djebar's sexuality into the figurative - and narcissistic - world of the harem. This posturing makes her attempts to break out of the constraints of Arab femininity seem trite and overdone, which is unfortunate, as she is one of the region's most renowned women writers and not without a talent for words.
• 
  Imen Inoubli Gharbi /reading bookswith imen

  J'ai choisie "Vaste est la prison"d'Essia Djebbar,cette femme de lettre algérienne d'expression française que j'admire et qui est l'une de mes auteures féministes préférées.
  Une plume magnifique,une écriture fluide et un style propre à elle avec un français impeccable.❤
  Cette écrivaine qui est l'une des plus célèbres auteures et les plus influentes du Maghreb et la première auteure nord_africaine qui a été élue et reçue à l'académie française.
  "Vaste est la prison" roman autobiographique, est une lecture certes difficile avec beaucoup de passages à mon point de vue à lire et relire mais captivante.
  C'est le 3ème morceau du chef d'œuvre "Quantuor" d'Assia Djebbar.ce sont 4 livres qui racontent tous l'histoire,l'autobiographie et les souvenirs de l'écrivaine.
  Cette lecture est composé de 3 parties:
  La première est l'histoire de la narratrice femme marié avec 2enfants et qui est amoureuse d'un homme plus jeune qu'elle et on vit avec elle ses tourments et ses souffrances.
  La 2ème n'a aucun rapport avec les 2autres.une partie historique dont laquelle la narratrice évoque l'histoire d'une écriture mystère trouvé dans les ruines de Doggua à Tunis et qui est restée indéchiffrable pendant des siècles.
  La 3ème partie qui un voyage dans le temps entre les femmes d'hier et d'aujourdhui Isma directeur d'un documentaire Femme Arable puis celle de sa grand mère et celle de sa mère.
  Portraits de femmes toutes différentes mais qui ont cet esprit révolté à la fin dans leur monde patriarcal.le lecteur vit leurs souffrances,passions et surtout silence.
  Aussi l'expérience en tant que cinéaste et ses souvenirs d'enfant qui surgissent à chaque fois.
  
  Une lecture sublime,que je trouve poétique et philosophiques beaucoup plus que féministe avec une structure fascinante.
  Essia djebbar plonge dans le passé pour comprendre le présent.
  Elle utilise l'histoire et la structure d'un écrit pour affirmer une identité.
  Bravo pour cette plume magique❤
• 
  fridayinapril

  "The silence of writing, the desert wind turning its inexorable millstone, while my hand races and the father’s language (the language now, moreover, transformed into a father tongue) slowly but surely undoes the wrapping cloths from a dead love; and so many voices spatter into lingering vertiginous mourning, way behind me the faint murmur of ancestors, the ululations of lament from veiled shadows floating along the horizon—while my hand races on …"
  •
  When I started becoming more selective with my reads, I discovered that my shelves didn't hold enough female voices in them. To change that I picked a book by Assia Djebar, one of the first feminist authors I have read. She's Algerian like me, so I found a sense of kinship in her stories that enthralled me.
  •
  So Vast the Prison by Assia Djebar was translated from French into English by Betsy Wing. In this book, Djebar intertwines fiction and nonfiction to make a complex story about womanhood. It is a vivid and gripping portrait of Algerian women peppered with Djebar's own life experiences.
  •
  Djebar's writing is lyrical, bold, and precise. It feels like a wave that hits you, fills you, then shakes you to the core. You're oscillating between familiar and unfamiliar unable to let go. It is not an easy book to read, but it rewards those who journey through its pages.
  •
  4/5
  #fridayinaprilbookreviews
• 
  Mazari Nahida

  Vaste est la prison qui m’écrase ! Formule berbère que notre écrivaine élu pour tracer une magnifique chronique féminine . Entre identité et secrets intimes, Assia Djebar se dévoile : souvenirs d’enfance et de sa vie d’adulte .le roman n’est pas une simple autobiographie car elle raconte d’autre figures féminines certes mais mettant en lumière des générations qui se sont suivis en Algérie .
  Assia Djebar a chanté la langue , a pleuré la langue et s’est appropriée une langue ! Dans ce roman, j’étais fascinée par ce lien tissé entre les différentes parties, celui de la langue.
  
  Ce roman est le troisième volet du Quatuor Algérien après L’amour et fantasia , et Ombre sultane. Vous trouverez les revues dans mes publications précédentes.
  
  Mon avis : je suis toujours éprise par le style littéraire d’Assia Djebar même si j’ai plusieurs restrictions à l’égard de certains sujets. Et c’est justement cette relation sucrée amer que je tiens avec les écrits d’Assia Djebar font que je lis toujours ces romans.
• 
  Grace

  Algeria
  I have always been suspicious of love stories. Not necessarily of love itself but of those where people fall in love so completely that the world around them crumbles. I have always been suspicious of those who love too deeply, so much that they change or so much that they can't live without their love interested.
  
  This book is certainly a good illustration of what I don't like about love stories. In "so vast the prison" Djabar lets her protagonist fall desperately in love with a co-worker, a relationship that comes to define her. Love becomes a substitute for freedom, for the possibility of a different life outside the vast prison created through the confining gender norm she moves in.
  
  Djabar's book is written in a fragmented, disconnected style that dips in and out of different story-lines, showing the lives of different women in Algiers. I guess I get what she's trying to do with this, but for me the whole story remains a little disjointed and I can never quite seem to figure out what's going on. But someone with a greater attention span, this might be a very worthwhile book.
• 
  Mina Ach.

  Vaste est la prison est le premier livre de Assia Djebar que je lise , je m’attendais pas à qu’il soit ce magnifique. Une lecture très apaisante et j’ai appris beaucoup au même temps. J’avais ce livre dans ma bibliothèque depuis des années j’ai toujours eu le sentiment que j’étais pas encore prête a s’aventurer dans un livre pareil et finalement je me suis finalement motivée à le commencer et franchement j’en suis ravie . J’ai vachement aimé vaste est la prison malgré le fait que ça m’a pris un moment de m’adapter au style d’écriture de cette autrice, j’ai hâte de lire d’autres livre de la plume d’Assia Djebar.
• 
  Tom Leland

  Don't know if it's a translation issue, but I found the prose to be overly poetic or lofty, sometimes non-sensical, rambling, disjointed, fragmentary. Got through about 2/3rds. I can't even comment on the subject matter, so disconnected was I from whatever Djebar was trying to achieve.
• 
  Paola Calvetti

  Scrittura impeccabile. Mi sono annoiata, però.
• 
  Rosalie Pop

  Pas accroché, peut-être une autre fois
• 
  Ikram Chaib Draa

  long time ago, don't remember,9ilouni
• 
  Noells

  Each line is a poem.
• 
  Yousra

  3.5/5 stars
• 
  Dina Samimi

  I want to love this, but it was way too disjointed and atmospheric. That said, the prose is really beautiful. This was clearly a labor of love for Djebar, who delves deep into North African history as well as her own Berber lineage, but the plot is confused and very slow going.
• 
  Kanika Samra

  An extremely complex book about women, language, culture with the backdrop of a country, Algeria, coming out of colonial shackles and finding it hard to stay peaceful. It is in parts a love letter to the ways of life preserved by women in their domain of the home and in parts a lamentation at the costs - emotional, intellectual - for them. In equal measure Djebar also tries to crate a wistful sense of longing for the beauty of her country, the one she knew as a child and young woman. Reading the translation there seems to be some loss in the texture of language.
  The structure of the book is complex and would be a richer experience for someone familiar with the linguistic, historical and cultural references relied upon. It is still a magnum and a mammoth task to try to capture all these themes in one book.
• 
  Kyra

  I was so confused by this book. The protagonist's name wasn't mentioned until halfway through the book, so I was unsure whether she was speaking about herself or somebody else which made piecing the weird structure together was really hard. I don't know if it was written that way on purpose or something was lost in the translation. Either way, I found the language beautiful but it was almost painful, trying to work out what was going on; it was like three or four different stories woven together before I realised what was going on. When I finally did work it out toward the end, I felt dissatisfied because it had been so difficult and I just wanted it to end. Nice enough images, confusing as hell narrative.
• 
  Chino

  I must admit it was really hard reading this book. It took me forever to finish because I had to really take my time to read the book. You have to be very patient with this book and you need to condition your mind and environment to be conducive before you start reading. Her writing can get really boring and irritating real fast and that's where that conditioning comes in. However, I must admit that there are just some sentences/phrases or paragraphs that she throws out there that are quite beautiful. Towards the third story is where the book finally starts to make sense as everything gradually becomes coherent. It is quite insightful about Algeria if you are looking at the cultural and historical aspect of the book.
• 
  Amy

  Good. A lot of layers, a lot of things going on. It's hard to describe this book in a few short sentences. I give it 3 stars because I feel like Djebar was reaching for two many things in one book. I read this for a Post-Modernism class. To me there were a lot of interesting points about the book, decontructing a woman's role in her marriage in her community in her career in her history--in her own skin. I read an english translation from the original french while in Paris, seeing the tensions between Algerians and the French... I think those little details made her writing seem a bit more complex as well. All in all a good book.
• 
  Amanda

  Djebar is an Algerian woman writer, probably the most notable among Francophone authors. This book is her most autobiographic account, weaving her life stories with generations of women who have come before her. And the recuperation of the Berber language, as it has been protected and passed down by women from the time before Common Era. Her writing is poetic, strong, critical (of the violence in the 90s in Algeria), and compassionate, as she attempts to re-write the histories of Algeria to recognize the women who've been silenced.