My mother, the racist
She spent her life in northern France doing exhausting, back-breaking work – and yet she turned her anger against people who had done no wrongs to her. But as much as I couldn’t stand her rants, I was forced to accept her as she was By Didier Eribon. Read by Mark Noble. Help support our independent journalism at <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/longreadpod">theguardian.com/longreadpod</a>
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