Kiffe Kiffe Tomorrow (UK title: Just Like Tomorrow) is narrated by Doria, a fifteen-year-old girl living with her mother in a housing estate in the suburbs of Paris. Dad returned to Morocco, to marry another woman because Doria's mother didn't bear a son, and so it's just Doria and mom.        Mom works (for a while) cleaning rooms at a motel, but though they live in a welfare state -- with food stamps, social services frequently checking in, and free therapy sessions with a Madame Burlaud for Doria -- they still have trouble getting by. They rely on charity, often can't pay the grocer's bill, and most of Doria's (definitely not stylish) clothes are from the charity store. Doria isn't a very good student either -- failing pretty much all her classes except drawing, and destined at the end of the year not to repeat the year (there's no space for her) but to be shoved off to a vocational school. But then, her mother can't even read (though she does eventually take a literacy class).        In short chapters covering about a year, Doria relates her life. It's not an angry diatribe against the horrors of banlieue-life, or self-pitying wallow in the unfairness of it all. Rather it's a sympathetic account of teenage life -- with all its attendant concerns, dreams, misunderstandings, and fears. Given Doria's situation it's not really typical, but then whose life is ? Guène manages to present her protagonist in a way that it is easy for almost anyone to relate to her -- universals trumping particulars, but with these particulars also opening the reader's eyes to a different world and set of circumstances.        Doria is angry and frustrated, but not quite as resigned as her mother. The girl is at an age when she still can't quite believe that it all comes down to fate -- though she's well aware of the possibility (and the excuse it affords):

Fate is all trial and misery because you can't do anything about it. Basically no matter what you do you'll always get screwed over. My mom says my dad walked out on us because it was written that way. Around here, we call it mektoub. It's like a film script and we're actors. Trouble is, our scriptwriter's got no talent. And he's never heard of happily ever after.        Still, she sees possibilities. After all, at least: "Our generation's lucky, because you get to choose who you're going to love for the rest of your life. Or the rest of the year." Yes, she's seen too much for there not to be a touch of cynicism to many of her observations, but fundamentally her outlook remains optimistic -- she sees some (limited) hope at the end of the tunnel.

       When she's down, it often seems to boil down to: For me, it's just kif-kif tomorrow. Same shit, different day.        (By the end, however she's able to put a slight variation on that -- giving the book its French (and American) title.)        Doria feels lost and alone, abandoned by her father and with few friends. She can handle the telephone service being cut off, but: I'm telling you, if they cut off our TV like they did with the phone, that'd be too much.        The darker side of life around Doria doesn't seem terribly threatening: the son of a family friend is sent to prison for a year, and there's another friend who sells drugs (before slowly settling down). There's almost no violence in the book, either, and little fear of crime. If not entirely harmless -- the boy in prison is certainly changed by his incarceration -- Doria doesn't dwell on much of this, living very much in her own world and mind. This is, of course, part of what makes her like any other teenager, though it does also give the book an odd, almost too-innocent feel.        There are also almost no scenes from school, neither the regular school where she does terribly, nor the vocational school where she seems to be able to hold her own, and there are few scenes of her relating to others (especially other girls -- even the girl she babysits and clearly is close to is barely described). Still, as presented from her perspective, her interaction with the social workers, her therapist, and even her friends is authentic -- one thing going through her mind, another thing coming out of her mouth -- and Guène does that very capably (the familiar approach ("I'm telling you,", Doria writes) also helps).        The cultural references -- the mix of traditional North African and modern French (with a good dose of international pop culture) -- and the resulting confusion of identity are also well presented. Clothes are a constant problem, since Doria's mother can't afford practically anything other than hand-me-downs, and TV remains the ultimate escape. Doria is still at an age of wildest dreams, too: "Often, I imagine I am part of the Ingalls family from The Little House on the Prairie". She even wonders: For all I know, Mme Burlaud isn't really a shrink. Maybe she works in TV and all the bullshit I tell her feeds into her sitcom.        The success of Kiffe Kiffe Tomorrow comes from Doria's authentic-sounding voice. Guène creates a convincing character, whose teenage mind and preoccupations cover many of the book's weaknesses, such as the many incidental stories that are touched upon but never really developed -- but then, that's exactly how a teenager living completely in her own world (i.e. most of them) would likely perceive and relate (and relate to) the world around her.        The tone, and Doria's voice, are almost perfect throughout (though given how expressive she is, one has to wonder why she didn't have just a bit more success at school), with Guène only very occasionally trying a bit too hard: Outside, it was gray like the color of our building's concrete and it was drizzling in very fine drops, as if God were spitting on us.

       But for the most part there is little sustained self-pity (just typical adolescent bursts of it).        Kiffe Kiffe Tomorrow is a quick, entertaining, and very appealing teenage-story. Doria's life isn't particularly exceptional, and little that is very dramatic happens, but that's part of the novel's appeal, in showing that even very ordinary life is, in it's own way, extra-ordinary and interesting. Certainly worthwhile.

In Kiffe Kiffe Tomorrow, nineteen-year-old author Faiza Guene introduces us to Doria, a Moroccan girl living with her mother in the projects near Paris, France. Her father ran out on them and back to their hometown in Morocco six months ago. Now Doria and her mother, Yasmina, who works as a maid in a hotel, are on their own, with a little help sent by the city and Doria's school.

That help includes show-off social worker Madame DuSomething (a name that lets people know she comes from people of high standing) and the psychiatrist, Madame Burlaud, who is old and ugly and smells like anti lice shampoo, according to Doria. Doria and her mother have friends, too. Hammoudi, a thug living in their apartment building, and Auntie Zorah, an Algerian immigrant, are just a few of the colorful cast of characters in this novel.

The phrase "kiffe kiffe tomorrow" is one of Doria's own invention, coming from the Arabic kif-kif, which means same old, same old, and the French verb kiffer, which means to really like something. At first, Doria's life is kif-kif tomorrow. Same old bad stuff tomorrow, same as every day. Same stuff to deal with: paying the rent on time, failing school, and the stuff every teenager deals with, like guys or embarrassment. Doria is a lot like every other teenage girl, but at the same time, she's much different. She's strong and she deals with everything as it comes along, no matter how hard it is.

The Paris that Doria inhabits is not the Paris of the movies, the Paris that Yasmina was expecting when she stepped off the boat and set foot in France all those years ago. It's not the same Paris that is just a few metro stops away. This Paris is full of people caught between two countries and, really, two entirely different worlds. In this novel, told in Doria's fresh, funny, original voice, the projects outside of Paris aren't just full of rap, soccer, and crime. She turns all the stereotypes about immigrants held by people like her mother's boss, Mr. Winner (who calls all the Arabs, like her mother, "Fatma"), upside down and shows them how wrong they are.

This is Faiza Guene's first book, and I'm hoping it won't be her last. She is only nineteen; it's admirable that she could finish writing a book at all. Many people, much older, couldn't do it even if they wanted to. The translation from French (Kiffe Kiffe Demain is the French title) is also brilliant. Although I haven't read the French text, it does not seem that Sarah Adams' translation is missing any of the brilliant wit or originality that was expected from reading reviews. Sometimes, a reader can tell he or she is missing something in a translation, the spark that made the book in its original language so popular. If this book is one of those, then the French version must have been unbelievably brilliant.

Kiffe Kiffe Tomorrow is a great insider's look not only at the public housing projects outside of Paris, but at the life of a teenage girl not so different from one anywhere else in the world. This book is especially great for anyone who has ever felt they aren't the same as everyone around them - anyone who has been, so to speak, on the outside looking in.

This novel had me daydreaming a little at first, but I was certainly absorbed once I got into it. Faiza Guene pulls you into her story. When you emerge, you'll find yourself missing Doria's fresh take on things. Doria is an amazing character, possibly a little like Faiza Guene herself, who also grew up in the projects outside of Paris. She has a brilliant imagination, and the story she has to tell is both

funny and sad, lighthearted and serious. Her voice is cynical and hopeful at the same time, something that is difficult to achieve in writing.

This highly original story, told in an equally original voice, will be popular for as long as people read it. And read it they will, even if it's only because they'll be pulled in by the amazing cover art. It's sure to be a favorite with readers everywhere in France, the U.S., or anywhere else in the world, in rich suburbs, in the middle of cities, out in the country, or in the projects like Doria.