Ramzy Bedia in “Youssef is successful”. DR
By Karim B. – Youssef Salem can’t believe it. Toxic Shockthe autobiographical novel that he wrote “for the pleasure of writing, nothing more,” received the Goncourt Prize. The eldest of an Algerian immigrant, he recounts the adventures of his family and reveals secrets that will take away his father, who died of a cardiac arrest upon the discovery of the raw content that his son will not succeed in hiding from him. The conservative Muslim that he is learns that Youssef is an alcoholic, that one of his daughters is a lesbian in a civil partnership, that his other daughter, who wears a turban not out of piety but to taunt men who oppose the hijab, shoots herself antidepressants. When the winner of the prestigious literary distinction was announced, the author explained that “the book is a lie and the writer a fantasy”, in an improvised speech in front of an audience of excited journalists, armed with cameras and cameras. to immortalize the historic moment.
The plot of these events unfolds in a film, Youssef Salem is successfulin which the main role is played by the talented child of Kabylie Ramzy Bedia, made famous by the humorous series H, where he plays the role of a dull stretcher bearer in a hospital, before running a bistro on the sidewalk opposite. A scene from this comedy, directed by Baya Kasmi in 2022, reveals the unknown side of the Goncourt prize so well. A dialogue between the novelist, skeptical and nonchalant, and his editor, driven and devoured by ambition, sheds light on the side roads that lead there.
In an exchange in his editor’s office who tries to convince him that his work has every chance of being crowned, Youssef responds, while watching his stormy television interview from the day before, that “it’s horrible!” “I represent mediocrity,” he confessed in the cultural program, during which a critic responded, sharply: “I have a lot of trouble reading this book, because it is very poorly written, it That’s it. If it generates any interest in a small literary microcosm, it is out of pure condescension. Stories about buttocks in the cities are nice.” His editor reframes him, giving him a masterful lesson on the essence of the prize in question, which is only incidentally linked to belles-lettres. She lectures him, shakes him: “But what do you want in the end? We talk about you everywhere!”
“Maybe people will buy your book for the wrong reason, but what matters is that they will buy it, then they will discover that it is literature. If I had to pay all these idiots [les journalistes, ndlr] to say all that [présenter la fiction comme un chef-d’œuvre, ndlr]I would have done it.” “Is that how you defend literature?” retorts Youssef, disillusioned. “Controversy sells, and this is only the beginning. First stage of the rocket. Now, journalists, intellectuals will go to the front to defend us, that’s a literary event. The second stage of the rocket. The ideal is to arrive on floor three, with family psychodrama, revelations about your sexuality, etc.” Youssef objects. “Are we staying on floor two?” asks the editor. “Oh yes!” he replies, nodding.
Any resemblance to facts and an existing character is in no way fortuitous and is absolutely not a pure coincidence. Simply replace the fictional Arab Youssef Salem with the real Arab Kamel Daoud and Toxic Shock par Houris to piece together the puzzle.
K. B.
