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"When they found out the head of the clinic was a woman they nearly died. So that's a female then! Like thirsty fish they fried to wet their dry throats. Knotted. They organised their faces. Twirled their moustaches. Took off their long scarves. Spat out their tobacco quids. Stroked their shaven heads. At that point they fell into my hands. [...]. My brother slapped me. He also said you won't only be using it for peeing from now on! The only thing he cared about - at that time - was his passion for model aeroplanes. Every Friday he prayed for a long time on our father's grave. He spent several hours there. I have never ever been inside a cemetery. I've even always refused to visit my father's grave. That was what finally drove my brother mad. He could never understand such behaviour. Apart from his work he only ever went out to attend funerals. He only really came into his own at burials and wakes. He was secretive. Hardly said a word. Hardly communicated. Absent. Passive. Complacent. Lazy. Sort of inadhesive. [...] The night was sultry. After the rain a sandy wind gusted from the desert. It was sort of grainy. Paradoxically oily. Fatty. Making it hard to breathe. Stubborn recurrent memories. Racing camel moving in a postcard desert. Superb. Unbelievable. With the stiffness of a dyslexic learning to ride a bicycle. Its rider - a blue blob - swaying slowly. At each step its feet raised a small puff of greenish salt: crossing a frosty-looking salt lake. Fast camel. Like a mauve scar swelling in the shimmering still air. Budding dawn. Memories also: the cohort of patients. My first day of work after receiving my specialist's diploma from the faculty of medicine." "The depressing Algerian reality of Boudjedra's heroine redefines her world, making even normalcy bizarre, ironic, and incomprehensible. Even rain, which is usually cleansing, evoking rebirth and renewal, becomes something violent and capable of harm, leaving its mark physically and mentally on the young woman." (Valérie Orlando) Rachid Boudjedra, born in 1941 in Aïn Beïda, Eastern Algeria, is the most prolific, innovative and controversial writer of Post-independence North Africa. Boudjedra writes in both Arabic and French. Published: 2002 (English Translation) |
