CONFRONTATIONS

A tightly wound, forcefully lyrical debut novel by an award-winning Dutch poet.

Sixteen-year-old Salomé Atabong has put herself in a vexing corner. The daughter of a Cameroonian father and a Dutch mother, she’s serving a six-month sentence in a juvenile detention center (nicknamed “the Donut”) for a violent crime whose particulars are gradually disclosed. Whatever she’s done, Salomé shows no remorse for it, which exasperates not only her parents, but also the Donut staff, particularly Frits van Gestel, a white therapist who became notorious for making a condescending remark about “primitive life here in Africa” while appearing on TV. As far as Salomé is concerned, this makes Frits unworthy of her respect. “I know full well I’m not well,” she says, but she’s “not going to be helped by some fucking racist.” Frits nonetheless keeps trying to break through Salomé’s belligerence, which also rubs some of the other inmates the wrong way. Her refusal to even acknowledge the act that got her locked up parallels the novel’s insistence on withholding specifics of that act. But the book does weave in pertinent details about Salomé’s family, including her father, mother, sister, and aunt. Through her often-tumultuous day-to-day life at the Donut, her memories of family visits to Africa, and her coming to grips with her actions and their consequences, Salomé finds herself slowly, if grudgingly, approaching the basis of her constant anger. The whole novel comes across like a clenched fist resisting every impulse to open up, and one wonders if this unrelenting intensity might work against the possibility of its becoming one of those life-transforming novels about alienated youth in the tradition of The Catcher in the Rye. But no matter how tense things get, you somehow stay with Salomé’s pursuit of her goal: to locate “the Salomé who’s made off with all my luck, and find a way to get to her.”

A psychological mystery whose solution resides in self-discovery.