I vacillated between giving this book 3 or 4 stars. I happened to grab the original French novel after I'd finished the English version. Upon reading the first 20 pages of the French version, I can honestly say that THAT novel was a solid 4. This English translation, on the other hand, is a 3.5, or maybe just a 3. Something about the protagonist's awkward, humorous tone just seems to have been lost in translation. His neuroses and unreliability don't quite come off as well as they should in the English translation, which is not to say that the translation fails entirely. It's still a pretty good novel, and there are moments where the writing and the structure click and sweep you off into the story.

The story, on the surface, is as follows: Gregoire wants to kill his girlfriend, Germaine, in order to emulate his idol, Angoualima, the most notorious (and only) serial killer in the country. Don't let the title of the novel fool you, though; Gregoire Nakobomayo is no Patrick Bateman. There is no smooth talking, seamlessly violent protagonist here; Gregoire fumbles every attempt to approach Angoualima's infamy and is ultimately a sort of tragicomic hot mess. Mabanckou does a brilliant job putting us inside Greg's head and there is a four-page, non-stop, stream-of-consciousness sentence that is truly spectacular.

Through Gregoire's eyes, we also get a glimpse of life in a Congolese slum: abandonment, prostitution, alcoholism, and anger, yes, but also fierce pride for one's neighbourhood and community and the strong urge to try and stand out and better yourself (even though Gregoire's idea of betterment is skewed, the desperate urge is something to be admired). The portrayal of a sensationalist, attention-hungry media, but the way, was spot on and highly relevant to virtually every country in the world.

All in all, a solid novel that provides a brief but memorable glimpse into a life completely unlike our (or, at least, my) own. I only wish there were somehow a better English translation.