As an appreciator of WWI novels, I loved this book's angle--the experience of Black African soldiers and the kinds of savagery and madness that are required for combat vs. the kinds that go too far. 

In this story, the narrator/protagonist Alfa Ndiaye tells us that his commanders liked the Black soldiers to "play the savage, to scare off the enemy." But then when Alfa's guilt over not putting his friend Mademba Diop out of his misery as he lay dying overcomes him, he realizes that "on the battlefield they wanted only fleeting madness. Madmen of rage, madmen of pain, furious madmen, but temporary ones. No continuous madmen." Still, Alfa's vengefulness and descent into unmanageable madness goes on, even as he reflects on his home in Senegal, his mother, and his beloved. The book is written in a tone that I think convincingly captures a young man who is trying to make sense of the world that makes so little sense. He tags many statements with "God's truth," like he is constantly testifying on his own behalf, justifying himself against inevitable judgment.