‘A masterful dissection of racism, ageing, and the queasy nature of desire muddled with power.’ – The Feminist Press, New York

‘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

‘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

On THE LIVING DAYS