The nurse is from Martinique. She is one of those gorgeous delicate mulatto girls. If she is from good stock (like this one, who has taken my hand and is pumping) one can either fall in love with her or if his loving blade is dull he can only stare at the back of her delicate ears or at the strand of hair beneath her ear, and softly tell her in a voice that sounds as if it’s coming from the depth of a bleak cellar, “You don’t have to measure my pressure jigar, you’ll get tired.” And express it as if you’re chanting one of those ancient spells; one of those spells chanted by lambs when they put henna on their forehead before taking them to slaughterhouse; spells that I always chant. Because they often chop off a piece of me and give it to the dogs. Because there is always something with me which is extra; absolutely extra.
Reza Ghassemi (1950) is an Iranian musician, playwright and novelist. He plays the Iranian traditional musical instrument Setar. He has founded a band with which he tours around the word and has composed some memorable music tracks for well-known Iranian traditional singers. He has written and stages many plays first of which was at the age of eighteen. Before the Islamic revolution his plays won prestigious awards in Iran, but after the revolution they were banned from the theater. This, among other reasons, encouraged him to immigrate to France where he pursued his career as a musician and writer with more freedom. He gradually distanced from theater and focused on his music and writing fiction. His first novel appeared quite late in his life in 1995. He has published three novels so far. Some of his works have been translated into French and were quite well-received among French reader. The Spell Chanted by Lambs is his fist work in English. –This text refers to the hardcover edition.