To introduce his play, the author briefly describes traditional puppet theatre in Iran. Iranian puppets are made of wood, papier-mâché, fabric or porcelain. They are 10 to 45 centimetres high and can be either rod-puppets, string-marionettes or hand-puppets. The four cities most well-known for their puppets are Tehran, Tabriz, Shiraz and Isfahan. Some shows require eighty to a hundred puppets (there are over 37 puppets in Mémoires d’une marionnette).

The performances usually take place in private homes for weddings, birthdays, etc. The troupe is made up of three to five people – the puppeteer (Morched or Louti), his assistant and three instrumentalists. The band’s leader plays the zarb (tombak), addresses the audience directly and can speak with the puppets or “translate” what they say for the audience. The shows relate stories of everyday life using sexual innuendos, swear words and play on words.

The play was written in 1989-1990 and is meant to be performed by puppets and actors, “in order to tell the movement between the myth-dolls and their excessively real image in the contemporary world” (Anne Ubersfeld, “Un conte doux-amer”, preface). It won third prize in the R.F.I-Théâtre international contest (1995) and was broadcast by Radio-France Internationale in 1997.

Mademoiselle (Miss) Félicité, a foreign doctoral student, pays a visit to Morched – a master puppeteer – to buy his puppets. Her request is categorically denied because, in Morched’s eyes, puppetry is ancestral work. However, after the 1979 Islamic Revolution, the authorities censored traditional Iranian culture and Morched is forbidden from practicing his trade. In spite of this prohibition, he decides to use his puppets one last time to tell the love story between Pahlévâne and Sarvé-Nâz Khânome, which will soon be made impossible because of the Mullahs, who support their friend Mobârak (“a mischievous servant”). Unable to destroy his puppets, Morched – just before he dies – decides to entrust them to Mademoiselle Félicité, who will be able to keep the memory of his work alive.