In the fictional town of Yian, a single act—Ali Yahi shooting Federico in the knee at a local bar called the Cosmos—sets off a chain reaction that confirms long-standing rumors and reshapes the town’s social fabric. The novel Agrégat — Face A by Nassim Kezoui explores this moment and the ripple effects it creates, revealing how a community can quickly turn collective suspicion into certainty. The story begins with the idea that "what must happen happens," suggesting that the events are almost inevitable, shaped by the expectations and biases of the people involved. The novel examines how every action and statement becomes a piece of evidence in a larger, often contradictory narrative. Around Ali, a web of characters—Nouha, Abdallah, Moustapha, Jeanne, Éric, neighbors, the police, bar patrons, local elites, and even social media users—interact in a way that blurs the lines between truth and fabrication. The narrator, too, is part of this chaos, using parentheses, jokes, and self-aware commentary to question the idea of an objective observer. The central theme seems to revolve around the question of who controls the narrative: who is watched, who is judged, and who is seen as a suspect before they even act. The novel also explores how digital platforms, like the fictional application Abracadabra, contribute to this confusion. This app manipulates images, invents stories, and turns everyday life into a spectacle. The townspeople are both disturbed by and addicted to this constant stream of information and entertainment. As the novel puts it, "One did not surf. One sank." In this context, the internet is no longer a tool but a space where people lose their footing, unable to escape the scrutiny and influence of the digital world. While Agrégat — Face A is complex and at times overwhelming in its narrative style, it captures the messy reality of modern life, where individuals are constantly shaped by the stories others tell about them. The novel’s strength lies in its ability to reflect the chaos of contemporary existence, where satire and tenderness coexist. Beneath the humor and confusion, Kezoui reveals moments of vulnerability—misaligned families, temporary alliances, and young people trying to create their own music to escape adult narratives. Rather than trying to clean up the chaos, Kezoui aggregates it, suggesting that within the noise, there might be a chance for connection. Face A is a novel that overflows with energy, sometimes too much, but it remains alive and compelling in its excess.