PURE MEN, Prix Goncourt-winning Senegalese author MOHAMED MBOUGAR SARR's récit of homophobia's viciousness

PURE MEN
MOHAMED MBOUGAR SARR (tr. Lara Vergnaud)
Other Press (non-affiliate Bookshop.org link)
$10.99 ebook, available now

Finalist for the 2026 Cercador Prize for Literature in Translation.

On the 2026 Longlist for the National Book Award for Translated Literature

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: A young professor grapples with homophobia in Muslim Senegal in this searching, heart-wrenching novel from the National Book Award–longlisted author of The Most Secret Memory of Men.

A viral video makes the rounds in Dakar, showing an incensed crowd that gathers to dig up a grave and drag the corpse from holy ground. When Ndéné, a French literature teacher, watches it, he’s surprisingly affected. Who was this man, and what could he have done to deserve such a fate? The answer soon becomes clear: he was a “góor-jigéen,” one of the so-called “men-women,” the shameful label given to homosexuals, cross-dressers, or any man who lives outside the accepted norm.

Haunted by the video, Ndéné sets out to learn more. With the help of a friend who works in night life, he explores a hidden side of Dakar, away from the rigid Islam of his family and university. Although he feels a certain disgust for homosexuality, he’s moved by the suffering and resilience of the people he meets. But the further he goes, the more he doubts his own identity, threatening to become an object of suspicion and scorn himself.

A powerful, nuanced portrait of queerness in a conservative society, Pure Men asks the fundamental question of how to find the courage to be true to yourself, whatever the cost.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA EDELWEISS+. THANK YOU.

My Review: A récit from a Francophone Senegalese author, winner of multiple impressive prizes including 2021's Prix Goncourt for The Most Secret Memory of Men (published by Other Press in 2023), the first sub-Saharan native speaker of French to be so honored.

This powerful story of one academically expert yet culturally naïve man Ndéné coming to terms with the raw potency of religious belief to inspire behaviors its own tenets specifically condemn...murder, desecration of human remains...in a Muslim-majority country by no means anywhere close to a Stonewall moment. In all of his professorial duties and in his life with his lover Rama, Ndéné has not thought much about queerness and Senegalese Islamic homophobia. His hather is a major figure in the Islamic world of Dakar, and Senegal as a whole.

Then Ndéné encounters a viral video of the desecration of a grave because its occupant is rumored...not known bur rumored...to have been a góor-jigéen or man-woman (equivalent to US English faggot) that rocks his entire world. This is done by homophobes screaming at a corpse things that any adult queer has heard many times whether loudly or quietly directed at them. It's a jolt to professorial Ndéné, accustomed to explicating poetry and French culture to his students. He elects to pursue more information about the video, about queerness, and about Senegalese Islam's homophobia. An academic's natural role is to perform research, after all.

Rama and her friend who works for Human Rights Watch in Dakar bring innocent Ndéné into a buried lifeway lived at risk of torture and murder by Dakar's homosexual population. It is fateful. It cannot possibly go unnoticed because of who his father is in the Muslim world; and because the viral video is not condemned by his father, Ndéné investigating the acts depicted and the topic they're embedded in attaches suspicion to himself and damages his father among the devout. Rama, herself bisexual, is added to the trail of calumny.
In exploring the intense, hypocritcal taboos and burning hatred experienced by Senegal's queers, Ndéné begins to ask himself questions about Authority, conformity, prejudice in a country known to be repressive overall. He does himself no favors wher he decides to introduce his students to the work of Verlaine, that monadnock of queer letters the world around. Why would he do this, seeming to me to make the decision on a whim?

The lack of my fifth star above can now be explained. Is Ndéné having a bi awakening? Is he simply so repulsed by his father's religion's hypocrisy and the cultural cruelty, viciousness really, on display in that viral video that he simply wants to lash out at the cultural fog?

Dunno. Does Author Sarr know? It was not obvious to me if he did, and made this choice of direction steered by that knowledge. It's a vague and unsatisfying thing as a result. I can see from Translator Vergnaud's high-quality work that the vagueness was intentional. No author who can create this much investment in a story narrated by a man entirely in his own head, from his own PoV, and in under 200pp reach a truly life-altering conclusion that's internally consistent and resolves the story's plot is going to simply forget to mention if the main character's suddenly gone queer.

But then why do this? What the hell, back down and live to fight another battle (metaphorically speaking, not literally)? It's simply not in the text, or I am too obtuse to see it.

Astonishingly forceful and stylistically assured, the read os one I'll recommend to anyone willing to live in a high degree of narrative uncertainty.

Good practice for our modern life.

OF LOSS AND LAVENDER: A Novel, masculinity's vast void after destruction

OF LOSS AND LAVENDER: A Novel
SINAN ANTOON
Other Press (non-affiliate Bookshop.org link)
$11.99 ebbok, available now

Rating: 4.25* of five

The Publisher Says: In this achingly beautiful novel of trauma, memory, and identity, two Iraqi men struggle to start a new life in the US after the Gulf War.

Sami, a retired doctor, lives with his son and grandchildren in Brooklyn. As he tries to navigate this new city, it becomes increasingly clear he is losing his memory due to dementia. Every day he sinks deeper into old memories of a life in Iraq before the war.

Omar arrived in the US with no family. He has run away from Iraq with a fake identity. As a deserter, he was punished by having an ear cut off. In Baghdad, this is an unmissable mark of shame. Omar works menial jobs, creates a new identity—comically passing as Puerto Rican—and dreams of reconstructive surgery to get his ear, and his dignity, back.

Their stories converge powerfully when it becomes clear they were connected in Iraq at a moment that was pivotal for them both. Deftly exploring the aftermath of war and relocation, Of Loss and Lavender creates a moving portrait of life in exile.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: A novel of displacement. A story of male identity that, in centering differing...often competing...cultural notions of masculinity, shines a klieg light into the endless void at men's cores left by their "failures," inabilities, unwillingness to live measured by that toxic measure.

What Author Antoon did by bringing these oddly assorted immigrants to the US was subtle, clever, and tendentious. Omar is a chancer. He's blagged his way into and out of trouble since...well, who knows, we're not vouchsafed his whole life's story but I'd bet my very own United States dollars that he's been behaving this way his whole life. Omar is running even when he stands still, never at rest because rest is the point when "They" can get you in their sights to pin you in your place, the one "They" have decided you belong.

Sami's never run in his life. Towards or away from a goal or a problem, he's been steady. His aging mind has fractured from the weight of his memories. He's not agile, he's strong. Strength, unlike agility, breaks when overextended. He tries to comprehend Brooklyn, not an easy task for the native from the US, and fails. In his failure to become a Brooklynite, Sami becomes the dependent he was always responsible for, the helpless and confused neophyte he always guided...the not-powerful responsibilty in place of a lifetime as the powerful protector. Wandering in his memories he needs to build his identity Sami has no traction thanks to dementia. We meet him before the dementia robs him of enough capacity to know he's losing his battle. It is the hardest to endure of all dementia's thieveries. Sami is still Sami. Cruel is our word for this moment of struggle, outsiders who observe it; internally, no one who knows it intimately has ever told us, because they can't.

When you use these men as each others' counterpoise you get the fulcrum of the system located at masculinity. Lost, found, rejected, but "Achilles absent was Achilles still," in Homer's distillation of verity into aperçu. In bringing these wounded-by-past-lives souls to a country that shares none of their lived experiences, Author Antoon removes all the props we use to build identity from them. They have no obvious place in the cultural map they must now use to navigate Life. Omar loves this because it means he controls his narrative, he has no further need to resist the boxes he's forced to occupy because they don't exist to threaten him. It's liberation, yes, but it comes as always at a price. Belonging, the sense of purpose that it grants, is also in those boxes that confine, shape, define Omar (including his name, fictional though it is). Freedom isn't free. Never has that truth been more stark than to Omar in Brooklyn.

Living your life in translation is never easy. It is a hidden cost of Othering those not deemed "mainstream" or those who are immigrants in similar degrees. Author Antoon is an iraqi immigrant to New York, a novelist and (it says in his biography) poet who translates from (and/or to) Arabic; It shows in this very good novel. It feels like he is translating the experience of masculinity from one culture to another, like the characters are finding ways to make sense of the world that use words no longer part of their fluency. Sami's losses are structural intrinsic; Omar's are voluntary, elective; both are costly and exact significant emotional tolls on each man's journey through the maze of Brooklyn.

As a professor at New York University, Author Antoon is no doubt drawing on his own immigrant experience in the vast, bewildering social system of New York. I hope the world here has treated him with greater kindness than either of these characters received. I offer the story an incomplete fifth star because I was immersed in the flume of the story's canal, the high-pressure constriction that roils and directs but does not deliver to an end point the narrative waters. What, in the end, did Omar and Sami do as a result of occupying the same canal? They changed; but in tandem not in response to each other.

I derived a lot of pleasure from the story. I hope y'all will give it your time and treasure. I think the way each character experienced their quest after identity was so poignantly masculine, so painfully rooted in their manhood, that many women would get significant value from this male interiority.