“I’m under twenty-five and I am unable to envision the future. I’m not the only one."

A singular voice of the French "Bataclan Generation"—those most acutely conscious of the terrorist attacks in the mid-2010s—grappling with issues of memory or post-memory, trauma, and survivors’ dilemmas.

​Survive ​is concerned with the work of grieving for strangers—a grief which does not begin or end, but is rather a structural part of one’s being in the world. For Finkelstein, it is essential “[t]o abide. Deep inside what is dying, in the midst of the bullets going astray and the offenses accumulating, in the midst of the misunderstandings imposed on a face other than my own, on a body other than my own...to build a world that thinks, a world that gives, a world that beats—a living world.” Survive situates contemporary youth in a violence-saturated present with which they are all too familiar, yet from which many of them feel alienated in a plurality of difficult-to-define ways.

Frederika Amalia Finkelstein cuts across national and cultural contexts, from French to Argentinian to North American, touching on the challenge facing her generation: to understand their own lives as uniquely meaningful in the face of unending mass suffering.

“I’m under twenty-five and I am unable to envision the future. I’m not the only one."

A singular voice of the French "Bataclan Generation"—those most acutely conscious of the terrorist attacks in the mid-2010s—grappling with issues of memory or post-memory, trauma, and survivors’ dilemmas.

​Survive ​is concerned with the work of grieving for strangers—a grief which does not begin or end, but is rather a structural part of one’s being in the world. For Finkelstein, it is essential “[t]o abide. Deep inside what is dying, in the midst of the bullets going astray and the offenses accumulating, in the midst of the misunderstandings imposed on a face other than my own, on a body other than my own...to build a world that thinks, a world that gives, a world that beats—a living world.” Survive situates contemporary youth in a violence-saturated present with which they are all too familiar, yet from which many of them feel alienated in a plurality of difficult-to-define ways.

Frederika Amalia Finkelstein cuts across national and cultural contexts, from French to Argentinian to North American, touching on the challenge facing her generation: to understand their own lives as uniquely meaningful in the face of unending mass suffering.

“I’m under twenty-five and I am unable to envision the future. I’m not the only one."

A singular voice of the French "Bataclan Generation"—those most acutely conscious of the terrorist attacks in the mid-2010s—grappling with issues of memory or post-memory, trauma, and survivors’ dilemmas.

​Survive ​is concerned with the work of grieving for strangers—a grief which does not begin or end, but is rather a structural part of one’s being in the world. For Finkelstein, it is essential “[t]o abide. Deep inside what is dying, in the midst of the bullets going astray and the offenses accumulating, in the midst of the misunderstandings imposed on a face other than my own, on a body other than my own...to build a world that thinks, a world that gives, a world that beats—a living world.” Survive situates contemporary youth in a violence-saturated present with which they are all too familiar, yet from which many of them feel alienated in a plurality of difficult-to-define ways.

Frederika Amalia Finkelstein cuts across national and cultural contexts, from French to Argentinian to North American, touching on the challenge facing her generation: to understand their own lives as uniquely meaningful in the face of unending mass suffering.