The Forty Rules of Love: a novel of Rumi

A. Z. Zahara lives in Amsterdam with his books, cats, and turtles when he is not traveling around the
world. Sweet Blasphemy is his first novel and most probably his last. He has no intention of becoming
a novelist and has written this book purely out of admiration and love for the great philosopher,
mystic, and poet Rumi and his beloved sun, Shams of Tabriz.
Her eyes moved down the page to the next line. And there Ella read something that rang strangely
familiar:
For despite what some people say, love is not only a sweet feeling bound to come and quickly go
away.
Her jaw dropped as she realized this was the contradiction of the exact sentence she had spoken to her
daughter in the kitchen earlier in the day. She stood still for a moment, shivering with the thought that
some mysterious force in the universe, or else this writer, whoever he might be, was spying on her.
Perhaps he had written this book knowing beforehand what kind of person was going to read it first. This
writer had her in mind as his reader. For some reason unbeknownst to her, Ella found the idea both
disturbing and exciting.
In many ways the twenty-first century is not that different from the thirteenth century. Both will be
recorded in history as times of unprecedented religious clashes, cultural misunderstandings, and a
general sense of insecurity and fear of the Other. At times like these, the need for love is greater than
ever.
A sudden wind blew in her direction, cool and strong, scattering the leaves on the porch. The beauty of
the sunset drifted toward the western horizon, and the air felt dull, joyless.
Because love is the very essence and purpose of life. As Rumi reminds us, it hits everybody,
including those who shun love—even those who use the word “romantic” as a sign of disapproval.
Ella was as bowled over as if she had read there, “Love hits everybody, even a middle-aged

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housewife in Northampton named Ella Rubinstein.”
Her gut instinct told her to put the manuscript aside, go into the house, give Michelle a call, and tell her
there was no way she could write a report on this novel. Instead she took a deep breath, turned the page,
and started to read.

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