You have never read such a guide to the French capital, which the inhabitants of the local bottom call among themselves “Panama”. Instead of museums and castles, successful routes and a list of Michelin-starred restaurants, Zarka talks about the life of the Parisian streets: a machine with syringes at the Gare du Nord, bars where “modest” girls from the staff literally force customers to fork out money, brutal internal fights between skinheads, underground fights in gypsy hangars, brothels and prostitution in the Bois de Boulogne are all that remain hidden from the eyes of tourists. French backstreets described by an underground guy, a native of the outskirts of Paris, whose brain is constantly clouded by drugs. “When you write in the first person, readers sometimes confuse you with the hero-narrator,” shares the author. And this is not surprising, because the hero of the novel is called Zarka. He is also a writer and is collecting information for his next book. Autobiographical elements in the Prix de Flore 2017 winner's novel are mixed with fiction, but where the line between them lies is up to the reader to decide.