---My Name Is Red ~ Orhan Pamuk ~ 3/06 Export

What better way to prove it than the description of himself, both dead and alive, in the first chapter? Here is a painter with an eye for detail. It's almost overwhelming. Until one realizes that he's illustrating his life and death for us, and heaven too, from force of habit. It comes naturally to him.

Elegant Effendi lies dead at the bottom of the well in Istanbul. Mangled and mashed. Mutilated beyond recognition, begging to be released from his earthly bonds, begging us to find his murderer. Besides hinting at all kinds of motives, like robbery, why else brag about all the money he's making, professional jealousies, religious differences among the painters, Elegant also gives the reader three solid clues which might help to identify his murderer.

Elegant must have been surprised from the rear. Otherwise he might have been able to name his asassin. What he did see, and what we should look for, is 'mud-covered shoes', 'disgusting, oily hair', and tooth marks from having bitten his attacker. However, considering Elegant's shattered skull, the murderer may have been trying to destroy evidence. No teeth left to match up with the bites.

Here I am, carried away by my CSI speculations. When I should be pondering the other curious things Elegant comes out with. Like:

'Contrary to the claims of sinful infidels who've fallen under the sway of the Devil, there is indeed another world.'

'...the staggering power of such a book, the Koran, arises from the impossibility of its being depicted. I doubt you've fully comprehended the fact.'

Everything predicted by the great preacher Nusret Hoja of Erzurum, to whom I've tearfully listened, is coming to pass.'

Does anyone else feel that we're into True Confessions with My Name Is Red?

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"[What] we should look for, is 'mud-covered shoes' [and] 'disgusting, oily hair...'"

Oh, I will have to think of differences between 16th century Europe and the late 16th century Ottoman Empire right off the bat, Jonathan. This book is really challenging me, getting up to chapter 18 in this week will be tough.

So, 16th century Great Britain and "mud-covered shoes and digusting, oily hair?" This would be everyone. But 16th century Ottoman Empire? They actually bathed didn't they? Would "disgusting, oily hair" apply to everyone in the Ottoman Empire? Not necessarily I think.

When I read mysteries I don't like to hunt for clues or concentrate on them. I almost always figure it out rather early on. I never read mysteries for this, to try to figure out who dunnit. There are a lot of good mystery writers.

I think with this book that I will enjoy thinking about and discussing the clues as they are posted while I concentrate on learning about Turkish history and culture.

It will be fun for me to think about how the culture and society impacts our ability to CSI it.

True Confessions? There is something about it that does remind me of this magazine I read only once in my life. More thought needed.

What a world Pamuk has given us.

I know very little about the Ottoman Empire, other than some aspects of trade. I looked up and printed out a timeline of the Ottoman Empire to see if it would help, then looked in the back of the book and found it has its own timeline telling exactly when the story takes place.

I read Wikipedia about the Ottoman Empire. There were a lot of familiar names in it. But just data in my head, not knowledge. A friend is going to loan me her class notes from a course she took in the Fall on the Ottoman Empire at Cal.

I'm very excited about reading this book.

Kleo

I started reading the book about two weeks ago, and I am up to Chapter 11. I find the print very hard to read not just because of its small size but,even worse,the closeness of the lines to each other and the light gray color of the font. There must be between 500 and 600 words on each page. This is the hardbound copy. I have put it down and read and finished another book in the meantime. I don't know if I can go on reading it.

It is my belief a murderer is always slightly deranged. This means his thinking is sloppy, out of sorts. Therefore, he will have more than one reason to murder the person who has become a thorn in his side.Since my mind is not deranged, thank goodness, I can only concentrate on one reason for murder at a time.

This brutal individual murdered Elegant Effendi because of jealousy. He did not want Elegant to outshine him. This murderer is obsessed about the beauty of art done by his hands. The murderer has a big ego. The murderer is competitive. The murderer is sneaky. The murderer is also disloyal. He betrayed his friend in the worse way.

Clues

The murderer gives a clue. He says we must pay attention to words and color.

I am way behind in my reading. It is not a book to speed through. The chapter "I am a Dog" really threw me for a loop. I am really enjoying the book. Jonathan and Pedln, if I lose my way, I will just pull out and lurk to catch my breath.

As we begin our journey, Master Elegant Effendi, the illuminator, has been dead for four days and he wonders IF his family truly misses him or if they've just become accustomed to his absence. "I'd been living luminously between two eternities of darkness." Here, we find an element of humor in an otherwise morbid scene. He notes that the living mortals would certainly be interested in his "here-after" state.
"Where's you soul," he knows they ponder. A warrior split in half, will have his souls merge in the after-life. He wishes that his body will decay rapidly so that he might be found by his smell.
He believes that because he's not yet been buried, his soul is wandering and struggling. Also if his murderer remains free, his soul will continue to suffer and he vehemently wishes this murderer to be caught and punished. An eye for an eye!!!

Kleo says : "It will be fun for me to think about how the culture and society impacts our ability to CSI it."
Isn't it remarkable how much we've learned from CSI and continue to search for clues like "oily hair and mud covered shoes," much like Grissom and his staff do to solve a murder.? How much easier it is for us in todays standard to reach a conclusion than it must have been in the 1500's.

Sue426- stick with us. I too am wading through the story not because of the small print as much as the time it takes me to absorb the embellished writing by the translator. I don't want to miss any clues so I am going slow. If we go too fast, our leaders can slow us down to a more reasonable pace. Most books we read in a 4 week period but there is a lot to assimilate in this story.

Hats - You believe that any murderer is slightly deranged. Perhaps temporarily --- but greed, confusion and passion can lead to a person becoming "unhinged" quite easily, I believe. What did this murderer expect to accomplish with the death of Elegant? Could the murderer be one of the other illustrators hired to work on the secret manuscript for the Sultan? Did they not like what they found while depicting the Sultan's world? It is said that Elegant was not only the ugliest illuminator but the most impoverished of spirit. Hmmm. Hats you won't lose your way. Just speak up and you will be accommodated. I am A Dog threw you for a loop, hey? Well, even the dog said "you believe a story in which corpses speak and characters use words they couldn't possibly know," so why is it so hard to believe that dogs speak? (Another element of humor here, don't you think?) This is the chapter that says To be human is to err. Quite different than " to err is human." I have a question- do or did Arabs really believe that the drinking of coffee is an absolute sin? "Our Glorious Prophet did not partake of coffee because he knew it dulled the intellect, caused ulcers, hernia and sterility; he understood that coffee was nothing but the Devil's ruse." Did they really believe that to be true????

Alf, I am glad you are reading slowly too. There is so much information packed in each point of view. Orhan Pamuk's words are as breathtaking as an illuminated manuscript.

That's good, Hats. We will plod along together. Jonathan and Pedln will goose us, if need be.

Who's goosing who? Good morning, glad to see the early birds here -- Kleo, Sue, Andy and Hats. Welcome to all. Don't get discouraged -- I think we're all members of the same club -- the M-Ts. (No, not empties, -- more like "muddlers-through")

Whee, there's a lot packed into each chapter here, and much for someone like me (who knows nothing about Turkey, its history and culture) to assimilate. I was thrown by "I am a dog," but was even more so by "I am a tree." Finally figured out it was a picture, apparently one that was not chosen for the book. Why not?

I'm glad to know, Kleo, that there is a timeline in the back of the book. In these early chapters the uninitiated (like me) would be hard put to place the story in a proper time frame. The Ottoman's were around until when -- early 20 th century?

The big surprise for me so far was Black's surprise when he found artists in Venice painting what they truly saw, rather than illustrating a poem or story. Wow! Was that for real?

And coffee? I got the idea there was something wrong with this guy because he didn't like coffee. Weren't all good Turks supposed to love it?

This may not be the easiest book to discuss, but I think we'll have a lot of fun doing it. As Alf said, even in the well of death there is humor.

Bewildering, isn't it? What to make of the mass of information? What's clue and what's embellishment. Pamuk is a sophisticated mystery writer, so he must be aware of the first rule: don't hang a gun on the wall in the first chapter unless you're going to use it later. So, how much of the first chapter will have to be kept in mind by the reader, to be used later? Give me a break!

And that is why I like Kleo's ideas about reading a book like this. Don't get bogged down, or mired in detail. 'Just enjoy thinking about and discussing...'

'Here we find an element of humor in an otherwise morbid scene.'

What a relief to hear you say that, Andy. I found myself smiling over some things, and than wondering if I was too unfeeling or worse. You all might as well know. It gets funnier. Even ribald.

Sue, I know just what you're talking about. I borrowed a hard cover to get started. Then bought the paperback which even worsened what you're talking about as far as the print goes. On the other hand it's almost weightless and a pleasure to hold. Stay with us.

Hats, you do a most excellent job at figuring out the mind of the murderer. Splendid. Time will tell how close you have come to making sense out of this sorry business. But the murder wasn't pre-meditated, was it? Too bungling, too artless, don't you think?

From the back cover:

"My Name Is Red. At once a fiendishly devious mystery, a beguiling love story, and a brilliant symposium on the power of art. A transporting tale set amid the splendor and religious intrigue of sixteenth century Istanbul."

Strange, that no mention is made of the fact that the book is really big on ideas of all sorts. That has really slowed down my reading. We want to get through the book, but some chapters could be discussed for a week. There is also a grand sweep to the book with all its literary, historical, and geographical allusions. Talk of empires, and such. A quick look at the three-page chronology at the end of the book is rewarding for it's historical panorama. Just look at that...

1258: The Sack of Baghdad. Conquered by someone called Hulugu.

1370-1405: Reign of the Turkic ruler Tamerlane. Just the greatest role model for men.

And on and on.

Puzzled by the talking dog? I seem to hear the listeners laughing.

So many interesting theories as to the murderer's motive. My own impression was a different one entirely. I gathered the deceased was an admirer and believer in the "great preacher Nusret Hoja of Erzurum". He says everything Nusret predicted is coming to pass. Then 'The Murderer' speaks, and says he was forced to murder "that fool". "I couldn't let the false accusations of one foolhardy man endanger the entire society of miniaturists."

IMO, the murderer is a miniaturist, or at least one who makes his living thru' miniaturists.

It took me at least three chapters to understand that in each chapter a different voice will be speaking. Then Pahmuk used the device of a storyteller, using a picture for reference, who tells us the background of what is going on politically. He ridicules Nusret, the Islamic version of one of our 'fire and brimstone' preachers. I believe there is nothing a man of that type hates more than ridicule. In any case, he is building up a following for the type of oppression we saw not too long ago in Afghanistan under the Taliban.

My theory, early on, (may change many times before we're done) is that the secret book the miniaturists are doing for the Sultan would bring the Nusret and his followers down on miniaturists. The murderer believed the victim would reveal the nature of the secret book.

Can someone tell me why so many of the characters are known by one word names like "Black", and why the workshop master would have his best workmen known by the nicknames "Butterfly", "Olive", etc. Is this a Turkish thing?

Babi

The name Elegant is interesting. I know the pronunciation is different from our way of saying. Does Elegant have the same meaning as our elegant?

... memorable moments while reading this first section?"

I already have a 'memorable' character (I'd say 'favorite' but don't know how much she'll be in the rest of the book! Esther! I just loved the way she 'translated' the letter for us (and yes, in typical Istanbul 'dedicodu'* style!!

'dedicodu' meaning 'gossip' in Turkish and it's considered an integral and incredibly important part of the society. As I was told...it's not a 'bad thing' as we may think in the States, but a way of showing your concern for and involvement in your community.

I also now am able to justify my excessive use of elipses...they are very popular in Turkey in their general, especially letter, writing.

Jonathan, thanks again for recommending this wonderful book.

This book has such a 'Persian' feel and I love Persian writing (in translation still at this point!).

Alliemae

Don't take it amiss, Pedln, if I question something you've said. Black has just come back to Istanbul, after spending twelve years out in the boondocks of the Ottoman empire, to the east of Istanbul, leaving his beloved behind to marry someone else. It's Black's uncle who has been to Venice and seen what those Franks are painting from their new perspective.

And isn't it the greatest historical ignorance to think of such famous old places like Herat, Tabriz, Shiraz, Isfahan and Tiflis as the boondocks? That's a dandy map at the front of the book. There's Erzurum, about 200 miles east of Istanbul. Where that Nusret Hoja hails from. The preacher who thinks of the artists in the coffee shop as a bunch of dogs. Correct me if I'm wrong...

Good Morning, Alliemae.

Of course Esther is going to be our favorite. There's nothing going on that she doesn't know about. Isn't she a cool matchmaker. Makes good money at it, too. Matchmaker! She's Information Central.

There was a question above: Can someone tell me why so many of the characters are known by one word names like Black, and ... the master would have his ... workmen known by the nickname Butterfly, Olive ...

I think this is a combination of
1, The first person narratives where each character thinks of himself by his nickname, which in the case of the favorites, were accepted as rewards from their master. Of course, dog thinks his name is dog. And red's name is red. That makes a neat symmetry.
2, the author's cleaver devise to assist his reader to keep dozens of characters straight. It sure helps me, compared to, for example, Russian novels where I forget the names unless I take notes.

I am reading ahead (as usual) and will carefully not spoil anything, but do stay on the edge of your seat. There (hint, hint) might be more than one crime occurring in this Turkish delight.

hi Mippy

The fact that you're reading ahead says something about the book. Don't worry about spoiling anything. It's not that kind of cheap mystery. Come back to Chapter 2 and take the walk around Istanbul with Black in the melancholy dusk of a winter evening. No other place he'd rather be, he tells us.

You're right. The names are easy to remember. There aren't very many. Just Black, his uncle Enishte, Orhan, Esther, Shekure. Butterfly, Stork, and Olive. Master Osman. And the mysterious Storyteller. Their voices soon become very familiar.

After hearing from the dead man on his way to heaven, we now hear from a man very much alive to this world, a man very much in love, and so easy to warm to.

Chapter 2 makes fascinating reading. So rich in detail, one has difficulty in choosing something to comment on.

What's this about a secret book being made for the Sultan? And again we hear about Nusret of Erzurum, who now preaches at the Bayazid Mosque, with much to say about immorality, inflation, crime and theft. Does he know about this secret book?

We get a nostalgic, melancholy, sentimental tour of Istanbul, ending up at the coffeehouse, where the Storyteller awaits us, with his picture of a dog. Now why would someone give voice to a dog? Unless the Storyteller's listeners have been called dogs by the Husret Hoja at the mosque. This Storyteller may be getting himself into trouble.

But back to Black. He just dreams of a picture of his beloved.

No hints at all, please.

I like to just read as I go not with any foreknowledge or expectation. It's my reading style and has nothing to do with the author or quality of the book. As we're only discussing the first 18 chapters this week can we leave it at that?

Alf you asked about Arabs and coffee, "I have a question- do or did Arabs really believe that the drinking of coffee is an absolute sin?"

Maybe you meant Muslims not Arabs?

It was banned in Mecca in the early 16th century, but the ban was rescinded because Arabs drink coffee, although like most Middle Easterners, the Arabs I know drink more tea than coffee.

Anyone know this? Most Muslims I know drink coffee, some at American levels, but ME and South Asian Muslims I know tend to prefer tea.

Turks? "And coffee? I got the idea there was something wrong with this guy because he didn't like coffee. Weren't all good Turks supposed to love it? "

I can't imagine anything better than living in Turkey and being able to drink Turkish coffee all of the time. I used to have a Turkish friend in the neighborhood who was amused by my love of Turkish coffee and invited me to drop by and gossip and drink some every once in a while. Then there was a Greek restaurant near my house that served Turkish coffee.

Okay, now I need to go out and find some Turkish coffee. I was doing fine without out.

Kleo

"I too am wading through the story not because of the small print as much as the time it takes me to absorb the embellished writing by the translator."

Is the "embellished writing" actually by the translator? Don't you think the Turkish text is just as embellished, ALF?

The text, to me, is like a mirror of the works it is discussing: ornate little scenes of life, highly embellished, chosen for what they represent, not necessarily the whole truth or reality.

The Ottoman Empire died in 1923 I believe (close enough), post WWI bad decisions and hundreds of years of decline. The Ottoman family was given Turkish citizenship in 1999.

Lots of humor in the book, some dry, some subtle, some insider, some obvious. Very sophisticated multidimensional look at the world. Too many details to even imagine consuming 1/10th of them.

"Elegant" isn't just a nickname meaning 'elegant' in the old-fashioned sense, maybe dandified a bit, maybe used with a bit of cruelty?"

Gossip is much a part of Turkish culture, also Afghan. I got severely scolded at a funeral dinner a few weeks ago for letting my Dari drop below eavesdropping level. A woman told me they can't even gossip about me because no one is sure I understand that I'm the topic.

The Persians were highly influential over Ottoman Culture.

All those wonderfully obscure but major cities! I think most of them, even though they're big cities, are still in the boondocks, not Tiflis or Isfahan, but Herat is major boondocks, even though it's a big city.

I don't really know the geography, even though, unlike reading about all these Pakistani and Afghan cities, or Russian villages, or Polish ones, which I should know, Pamuk is actually name dropping MAJOR historical cities. This I thank him for.

"We get a nostalgic, melancholy, sentimental tour of Istanbul, ending up at the coffeehouse, where the Storyteller awaits us, with his picture of a dog."

Oh, almost as good as the book, Jonathan.

Kleo

I like reading about Black's return to the city of Istanbul. As he familiarizes himself with a city lost to him for twelve years, I get a chance to appreciate Istanbul for the first time.

I like Black. His fondness for his Enishte attracts me and his love for a lady. He has been hurt by love which makes me feel very sad for him.

The guy I find frightening is Nusret. Is he just a lover of his religion or is he a religious fanatic? There are many taboos in his life. Taboos I feel Nusret would work hard to uphold. Even kill to uphold? Surely he would not allow himself to murder.

This brings me to a question. What is a dervish house?

Kleo, not just Kleo, Jonathan, Pedln, Alf and all are helping with my questions.

Thank you for answering my questions. My memory plays tricks on me. I can ask a question which the book might have already answered. Later, I will remember that detail. Of course, in this book there are tons of details.

Oh, I must have just assumed it was a Sufi monastery.

Hats, this book, I think, might lead many to ask questions already answered, as there is so much detail on every page, in every sentence even. That plus the cultural unfamiliarity means I assume I will miss a lot.

Kleo

I can't get my book til tomorrow now so I will be well behind! Nicky has it but Brooke is sick so there is no way of her dropping it off. I have no car so there we are!

Carolyn

Hats, this is for you!

http://www.discoverturkey.com/english/bakanlik/b-a-mevlana.html

http://natheal.com/thewhirlingdervishes.html

Bubble,

Thank you! This is a good link. Wow! Bubble, that second link is fascinating. Hearing the music just adds to it.

Thanks, Bubble!

Aren't we off to a flying start? I think that after this first week we will have sorted out many of the questions asked today and will be able to settle into the story after that.

What is the time setting of this novel? Methinks this is a very important question - because it brings to our attention that we are not learning about another culture - about Istanbul, but about the history of a culture. Don't you think this is important to keep in mind as we read? We don't want to come out of this thinking that we know what modern Istanbul is like. The delight in young boys is one example. I have to keep reminding myself of this fact because the characters are so real, they seem contemporaries.

What's this about a secret book being made for the Sultan? Jonathan, I hop you will correct me if I am wrong, but there seems to be TWO books involved here -

1. The Book of Festivities - the Sultan has ordered the Head Illuminator, Master Osman to produce this book to commemorate the 1000 years since the first Hegira (in 622 when Muhammad became ruler.) The illuminators worked at home and reported to Master Osman.

2. The secret book - the Sultan gave this commission to Enishte Effendi, Black's uncle. p.25 This is the one that is to be in the style of the Venetian masters.

It's possible that there is just one book...that the Book of Festivities is the same as the secret book. How did you all understand this?

Why was Elegant Effendi murdered?

Hats - "This brutal individual murdered Elegant Effendi because of jealousy. He did not want Elegant to outshine him."

Andy- "Could the murderer be one of the other illustrators hired to work on the secret manuscript for the Sultan?"

Babi - Master Osman gave these names (Elegant, Stork, Olive, Butterfly) to his young illuminators and the nicknames stuck. WHY he gave them these names has not been revealed in these chapters.
Hats - Maybe Master Osman gave Elegant this name because of his elegant style. He was a noted gilder - added gold paint to the finished drawings.
Andy, all four illuminators were hired to work on the Sultan's Manuscript (s?). I think it's clear that one of them murdered Elegant - see Chapter 4.

Hats, I'm not sure that the motive was jealousy. The murderer seems to have little regard for Elegant - calling him a "stupid oaf"...an idiot. My feeling is that Elegant is an illuminator, not a portraitist...not one who draws dogs, horses, trees. He applies gold paint to the pages. I think he has stumbled on one of the drawings, discovered the Western (Venetian) influence and thinks that it is anti-religious, sacreligious...

Joan, if it's a "secret book being made for the Sultan" isn't the Sultan not in the loop of the secret? Oh, I see what you're saying. I'll have to go back to the book. What I thought this was about was about a book being made in secret for the Sultan, like a surprise. I thought that is what Jonathan mentioned, not that the Sultan is having books made for himself in secret. And I seem to remember Black talking about something of the sort.

Hey, when I click on the My Name Is Red in the top box on the Books Page it gives me this message: No access to view this discussion. In addition to no messages. Why do I have to scroll down each time to get to this instead of just clicking on the one on top now that it is an active discussion?

I have subscribed to this one thanks to Pat West's reminders and unsusscribed to the other.

Kleo

My client is in fact, His Excellency, our Sultan. Because the book is secret, Our Sultan has disbursed payment to me under cover of the Head Treasurer..."

BUT, the Sultan doesn't know the details of what is being planned. (more of this on p. 25)

The whole enterprise is very dangerous...none of the Illuminators know what is being portrayed on the other pages. Enishte to Black -

"What kind of pictures were we making? Why were we illustrating them in that way? I can't really answer you at present. Not because I'm witholding a secret from you, and not because I won't eventually tell you. It's as though I myself don't quite know what the pictures mean..."

I really don't see how I'll get through the first 18 chapters in one week.

Kleo

I certainly won't get through 18 chapters in one week. Perhaps the time frame is a bit short for this book.

carolyn

What a relief to find everyone else puzzled by Pamuk's storytelling. I know I am. One minute I'm baffled. But the next minute I'm just enjoying the 'parts', the 'bricks', that Pamuk is using to construct his narrative. He's deliberately mystifying us, it seems; but he's doing it in a captivating way.

Thanks, Pat,

for putting the new quote in the heading. Pamuk scatters so many fine literary vignettes around. A suggestive thought in a sentence or two. A splendid piece of imagery, full of sensory delights. A curious anecdote in a few lines. Kaleidoscopic variety. It seems stylistic with Pamuk. Similiar in a way, it seems to me to the use of endless simile and metaphor by Homer in his Iliad.

If you find some lines having a special appeal, or meaning for the narrative, why not draw attention to them and have them put in the heading for a day or two, for everyone's enjoyment. Let's call them brushstrokes or something. Pamuk's early ambition was to be a painter.

As for the secret of the books. That's as much a mystery as who killed Elegant Effendi. I'm not telling. Many of them remained secret until very recently, hidden in the Sultans' Treasury. But we do get a conducted tour in a later chapter...

Jonathan, apparently the link on the heading is only for the Pre-discussion we had and not for this one where we subscribed anew. That is why it won't give access to this one, when I want to go to it from "search" and not the subs links. That is when I check for a detail in our comments.

Life described by Pamuk is not that different than in the 20thC in Turkey. Except for the modernism of buildings, streets, huge malls and stores in the main towns or touristic resorts. Life seems immuably the same in villages - said Ben, my husband. Bubble

Bubble - I don't know what link, in what heading you are referring to. The 3 links in the heading above all work.

Let me know what you mean, and I'll try to correct it

Pat, yesterday I typed "my name is Red " in the "search discussion" window at the start of a page. It gave me this message: No access to view this discussion, just like KleoP wrote in her post #30.

Today it worked perfectly whichever way I tried to access it. Maybe a gremlin was happily busy yesterday! Thanks for answering and looking into it. Bubble

Aha! Time differences -- I was probably in the process of opening the new discussion. I was working late at night here. Well, I'm glad that is settled. I hope that was the reason, and we weren't having a glitch thing here on SeniorNet.

Chapter 3. I am a Dog.

'Inside, it was crowded and warm. The storyteller...was perched on a raised platform beside the wood-burning stove.'

You are the dogs, he seems to be saying to his listeners.

There seem to be many meanings and messages hidden in the words of the storyteller. But he does make it very obvious that he detests that moralizing preacher from Erzurum, the preacher who used to make Elegant cry with his moving Friday sermons in the mosque, often castigaating the crowd in the coffeehouse.

The storyteller has great fun mimicking the preacher before his coffeehouse listeners, heaping scorn and contempt on the hoja who would shut down the coffeehouses and destroy the dervish lodges.

It seems, from the storytellers words, that the preacher Nusret is equally contemptuous of those who don't come to hear his sermons, especially that crowd at the coffeehouse, who are 'the dogs and mongrels in the community.'

Hence the little mock story/act about dogs. No doubt the storytellers listeners find it all very entertaining as we do? How imaginative to point out that a dog watched over the seven sleepers for whom 'living among the pagans was too much', and preferred sleeping away 309 years. Awakening in true Rip Van Winkle style with their outdated beliefs and doctrines.

What a curious mix of bitterness, irony, sarcasm and ridicule in the storytellers little dog story.

How different the life is for dogs in Venice. Dressed in silks and sables. Where every dog has an owner. But lacks the freedoms of the wild dogs in Istanbul, running about in packs, biting, howling and fornicating at will.

We are the dogs, the storyteller seems to be telling his listeners. We're the infidels, according to that guy at the mosque. Let him beware. We can and we will bite.

There are bad feelings in this community. Sure this all happened long ago, but it sounds strangely modern.

Jonathan,

Thank you for your above post. You have made me think of connecting what happens in chapter 3 with modern times. I feel extremely sympathetic toward the dog in the story told by the storyteller. All because of rumors the dog is no longer treated with respect much less love. For example, because the Prophet loved a cat and tore off his robe to make a soft, comfortable place for the cat, people tended to think of the dog as unworthy of compassion. It seems our status is very fragile. Who is loved today might become the despicable party tomorrow. Who in society has the right to say we are worthy of genocide?

For some reason the storyteller's story humbles me. His story about the dog makes me want to use more caution about choosing who or what fits into my life.

Am I totally off track? I know someone will tell me.

Hats you are not off track. It reminds me of the way some young women have babies because of a romantic notion that it would be nice to have a real live doll ( I am talking about teen mums here). Then the doll becomes an unwanted and ignored hinderance to their lives.

Carolyn

'At times the narrow and dreadful streets of the city seemed to be lit up by a wondrous light coming from the snow itself; and in the darkness, amid the ruins and trees, I thought I spotted one of those ghosts that have made Istanbul such an ominous place for thousands of years.' p16

More walking about in the dark, narrow streets. Returning again and again to the scene of the crime. Finding Allah's blessing in the new-fallen snow that has covered his tracks.

The voice we hear does not admit to murdering Elegant in a criminal way. Elegant brought it on himself by endangering the good names, perhaps even the lives of the miniaturists engaged in illustrating the secret book commissione by the Sultan. The murderer is well along in calming his conscience and getting the sympathy of his listener.

But a murky world of book illustrating is beginning to emerge. Fear and terrror is coming into the picture. Overstepping the bounds of cultural traditions or religious acceptibility is becoming life-threatening. The moral dangers of caving in to foreign influences are being felt in certain quarters.

That 'pathetic' Elegant. In the end a few pieces of silver meant everything to him. He could have been bought. As it turned out, he had to be silenced. And everywhere, one hears howling dogs.

Jonathan,

I think the dog would tear it to pieces much like a doggie bone.

Perhaps I should point out that in Turkey cats are much revered. Cenk says everyone dotes on cats even the thousands of strays that fearlessly walk in the streets of Istanbul. Each apartment building has at least 6 communal cats of all colours. The people in the apartments of Istanbul kicked up a row when the authorities threatened to do a cull of all the street cats. There was a massive rescue operation by citizens and that is why there are cats who belong to no one living in the apartment buildings.

An example was when Vanessa and Cenk found a ginger kitten and debated whether to take it back to the building as there was no ginger cat amongst their little pride. They discovered it was still being fed by the mother so left it but if it had been weaned it would have been taken to a permanent home.

Cenk feeds all the neighbourhood cats and on the weekends they stroll in and out of their apartment here. One cat who was living with three small children moved out of home and moved in with them. Despite numerous efforts to send him home and phoning the owners constantly when the cat was taken home it walked three streets back to their place. Lucky Vanessa likes cats! The cat now lives with them.

Carolyn

The time setting for the story is the 1590's. I can't claim any prizes for this info....I found it in the back cover blurb.

Do you suppose little 'Orhan', second son of Black's beloved, is supposed to be the one telling this story, years later? Or did Pamuk just want to name one of the boys Orhan out of whimsy?

My copy of the book is paperback, and doesn't have the maps. I'll have to see if I can find some older maps of the area. Do you think they will be pertinent to the story?

Babi

Babi, mine is paperback too - but it is an older copy. 2001 edition Random House. I find it hard to believe the map would be left out. In my book it is found on the page following the table of Contents in the front of the book. It might be worth your time to check again - thin pages...

Interesting question re Orhan. I wonder if it isn't a common name - like John.

Everything Pamuk writes seems to be for a reason - so why did he spend a whole chapter on that unhappy dog? In Chapter 3 he writes that cats are revered, just as Carolyn tells us.

The Book of Festivities is being prepared to celebrate the 1000 year anniversary from the first Hegira - 622 and Muhammad. The talking dog tells us that long ago when Muhammad lived, the glorious Koran celebrates the dog. (have you ever read the Koran - or any part of it?)

The dog tells us that now, the clerics despise dogs and ban them from mosques. Why? He (the dog) goes on to say that "the sole reason for rising prices, plague and military defeat lies in our forgetting the Islam of the time of our Glorious Prophet." The fact that the clerics despise the dog indicates to me that they too have fallen away from the teachings of Islam.

BaBi, my paperback, First Vintage InternatIonal Edition, Seeptember 2002, contains one map, directly following the table of Contents, as JOAN said.

I wonder whether the Chronology was added to the foreign language editions, or part also of the original Turkish text. For it is my feeling that the author presupposes a great deal of detailed historical knowledge on the part of the reader about the tribes and countries in that part of the world. In that regard the Chronology is helpful even though it also raises more questions and might well require separate study and research.

We are definitely in the Middle Ages when travel was on horseback and the slaves transported in carts. I expect that any so far unknown facts and/or secrets will be revealed gradually, one mosaic at a time, to complete the grandiose, final picture puzzle.

There really is nothing new in the world regarding human traits and emotions, and we may find the text endearing because of their universality, even now, still, centuries later.

Is it the dog speaking about the falling away from Mohammeds teachings or is he repeating what a cleric is saying at the time the story is being told in the coffee shop. I can't quite figure that one out.

I cannot help thinking that as we begin to read this book much of what the clerics are purported to be saying is what is happening now.

The thing that strikes me most about this book is the unique way in which the story is being told. I do not think I have yet read any other book using this method.

Carolyn

"The voice we hear does not admit to murdering Elegant in a criminal way."

I think the voice does admit this very thing, being guilty of crminal murder.

Even in the beginning, the style doesn't really demand that we believe him, does it, "Now and again, I feel as if I haven't committed any crime at all."

Only now and again?

"I handled the matter then and there, assuming the burden of responsibility."

And why is he seeing ghosts if he doesn't feel his own guilt? This is a man trying to justify the murder and failing at it.

In the end:

"Long after I'd dropped him into the well, I contemplated how the crudeness of my deed did not in the least befit the grace of a miniaturist."

If not being true to your art is not a criminal act I don't know what is! Isn't this precisely what he admist, that he is a criminal guilty of murder, not an artist performing a deed for society? No one will see the beauty in this act.

Kleo

FYI. Here is a link to two maps of the Expansion and the Decline, respectively, of the Ottoman Empire, in color and larger than the one in my paperback :

http://www.naqshbandi.org/ottomans/maps/default.htm

My SIL to be is descended from the Ottoman Turks. His surname has Ata as a prefix like Kemal AtaTurk only his name is AtaDenis. I have forgotten what the significance of the prefix is but do know that it is significant in some way.

Carolyn

I thought the picture of the dog was only a prop. It's because they've been called dogs that the storyteller does a takeoff and in doing so does a beautiful skit on the unfriendly relations between the hoja and his followers and the ungodly crowd that frequents the coffeehouse. He had them all laughing, we're told. And there is a lot of humour in the storytellers performance. The seven sleepers story just illustrates the backwardness of the zealots in the mosque, with their outdated beliefs. The coffeehouse atmosphere is very irreverent, it seems to me. This is where the clever ones, the artists hang out, and play their intellectual games. And they're always looking for stories, illustrated stories. So the dog serves a very lively narrative purpose. The laughter is meant to be a contrast to the tearful audience at Nusret's sermons. There's conflict and bad feelings here.

Kleo, I'm happy you picked up on the murderer's mind problem. I must go back and have another look at it. It seems to me he has justified his act of murder. Even goes so far that Allah has looked down on it with approval. He does have a problem with it, but he seems to feel that he has saved his fraternity of artists. If there's any guilt it must be his worrying about taking part in an illicit book illustrating project. He feared Elegant. But soon enough he, the murderer, becomes the feared.

Yes, Babi, your surmise is correct. Pamuk admits in an interview in a About Author link above that Orhan, mother and brother, are autobiographical. I've found other evidence comparing incident in Red with incident in his more recent book Istanbul.

You must have the map in your book. I can't understand why it would be missing. The same with the three page chronology at the back of the book. That's where I got the 1592 date for the header in the first quote. The map is nice. For example, Herat. Kleo posted that Herat now is the boondocks. But at the time of the story it must have been a notable place. Look for it close to Kabal. Well, looking at it again, I would say close to 200 miles from Kabal

Pamuk draws on a lot of history for RED. As well as a lot of classical literature. So many references to Husrev and Shirin. They must be the Romeo and Juliet of the Persian world

Carolyn, Ata means father in Turkish.

Thanks for the maps,Traude. I needed a magnifier in the book! Bubble

Careless reader that I am sometimes when I'm this excited about getting to the meat and bones of a story, I didn't even notice the time of the setting of the novel until this morning!

I was trying to answer the question for our consideration and couldn't find my Ottoman Sultan's Chronology and I knew that Sultan Mehmed II was the sultan during the Ottoman siege of Constantinople in 1453. I also knew that the book is taking place in the 16th Century and I also knew that the cover is said to have a painting of Mehmed the First!! So I was really confused!!

I thought I had found the name of the Sultan in the heading I just read and now I can't find that either...and I lost it before I had written it down!!

Oh my...a mystery about a mystery????

After having just a moment of clarity I am once again confused!! Where on earth did I see the words 'Sultan Murat' (I think it was the II)???

Alliemae

Re: Jonathan's post #53

"That's where I got the 1592 date for the header in the first quote."

Might that be where my Murat II has disappeared to???

Please, someone, tell me I'm not losing my mind or hallucinating!!

Alliemae

Carolyn,

I reread your post again. I totally agree with you. It's a sad state of affairs.

Traude,

Thank you for the map links. --------------------------------------------------------------------

At the end of "I am A Dog," the dog talks about his owner or master. The dog's owner was not an honest man. He was a thief. I have the feeling the dog has become separated from his owner. I have begun to wonder if Elegant is the owner of the dog. If, possibly, Elegant is the owner of the dog, then, Elegant was not an honest, hard working family man. Just because you are murdered does not mean you are a saint.

Well, Elegant can not own the dog. The dog belongs to the storyteller. Does the storyteller have a name?

Carolyn, thank you for explaining the reverence of cats in Turkey.

Some have lost Murat, some the Sultan, some the time frame. Me-- I lost my mind and forgot to "Subscribe." Earlier this AM I thought, why haven't there been any posts in the My Name is Red discussion so I clicked on it. Lo and Behold, I had not subscribed to it. Don't ask me why? I really am not a new guy on the block and was certain that I had when admonished by PatW last week. Well, here I am and will reread the past 20 or so posts that I've missed.

Alf, I wondered where you had gotten too. I am lost in this book. I thought I had lost you too. Well, thank goodness, now you are found. I definitely could use your help.

Hahah, Hats, we can be two blind fools leading each other around. I am just finishing this week's assigned reading.

I am up to chapter fourteen. I just don't know what the chapters are about!

Take it easy you guys. It takes a while to find your way around in a place like Istanbul. But I'll grant this is the dizziest novel I've ever read. Somewhere I read that it's partly written in a post-modern style, and I think that means understanding things in a new way, so we'll just have to get ourselves out of our worn-out ways of looking at the world, and hope we don't get hopelessly lost. But isn't that just what Pamuk is writing about...an old world coming to terms with a new?

As you've probably noticed, I'm posting with two new chapter titles each each day. That way we just have to reach our goal by the end of the month. Alive, hopefully. Muddling thru can be lots of fun. Getting lost is usually full of adventure.

In Chapter 5 we hear from the man at the center of the mystery. He talks of many things. About his family. About the art of illustrating books. About artists and their trade. About new styles and old.

We're told that Enishte wants to introduce something new into book illustrating. Something very bold into Ottoman art. He seems to have talked the Sultan into having a book made which will include portraits done in the Venetian style. A la infidel!

Serving as the Sultan's ambassador in Venice, Enishte was overwhelmed by the pictures he found hanging on the walls of Renaissance Italy. As we still are. The new book is being funded secretly, with a select group of artists working as individuals, and therefore becoming jealous of each other. Rumours are flying, tensions and suspicions abound. One man has been murdered, and, as the murdered man has said, beware, 'one day they might do the same to you.'

Enishte Effendi, himself, a very sophiticated man of the world, is also in a muddle. Isn't really sure of what he's doing. He needs Black's help. Keeps the Book of the Soul resting open on its reading stand. Puzzles about the limits of art. What is a piece of art supposed to tell us?. Hang in their folks. This book is all about looking and seeing.

Jonathan,

Your chapter by chapter thoughts are very helpful. I am going back to chapter five.

This group is buzzing. I usually don't subscribe, but I was gone all day yesterday and when I finally got online last night there were more than 40 new posts, too much to absorb at that hour. Yesterday was draw the blood day which also meant reward at Panera day, so I just sat at Panera and read and reread many of the chapters.

Things are becoming clearer, in large part, to your many posts and explanations. Jonathan, thanks for straightening me out on who went to Venice and became interested in the new way of painting. It seems that that issue, painting what one sees, is a big part of the whole mystery.

What I'm slowly learning is that much of this is based on fact --
Sultan Murat III -- actually had THREE books made -- Festivities, Skills, and Victories
Master Osman, a real miniaturist, as were some of his helpers,
including Olive, who was the Persian miniaturist Velijan -- does that mean he can't be a murder suspect? ANd in Jonathan's recent post, we find that mothers and brothers are autobiographical.

What I don't understand from the novel --
Just what is the position of, or who is the uncle - Enishte? He reminds me of a building contractor -- contracts the work out, supervises it, and is responsible for the finished product. But he's also an artist? How is his position different from Master Osman's?

What I think I understand --
Master Osman does not like Uncle -- because Osman felt he should have the Sultan's work?
Elegant was an admirer of the fanatic cleric Nusret; killed because he knew too much; was he blackmailing? He was also thought to be a very good artist by some; disliked intensely by others
The money angle -- if the book is cancelled, the miniaturists will be out of a job
Black is in essence, playing the part of a detective. Will he be in a better light in Uncle's eyes? Sherkure is a fox. I don't know what to make of her

Traude, many thanks for the maps links. I find the map in the book hard to see and read. Color maps work better for me.

I skipped over some of the historical parts in the miniaturists' chapters. Must go back and pick up on those now.

Life is too short. I am reminded of what Joyce said about "Finnegans Wake," that it took him 17 years to write and he expected its readers to spend their whole life reading it.

I am not finding the book confusing. The chapters are all listed as "I am...." and the animals and trees are pictures held up by someone who is assuming their roles, at least so far. I actually started reading the book before I found the discussion here, and I was happy to find people to discuss it with. I admire you who are really interested in depth in what the book describes and I might still visit this site to sort of stay with it. Oh, well!

I lost the characters when I put the book down for a day and Joan asked a question that made me start over.

"including Olive, who was the Persian miniaturist Velijan -- does that mean he can't be a murder suspect?"

Does what mean that Velijan can't be a murder suspect?

Thanks for the maps, Traude.

I would like one that spreads east a bit, now. I'm going to have to go looking.

The lovers in the story are from an Ottoman Empire poem, maybe 13th century, based on a very famous Persian love story, Khosrow and Shirin by the late 12th century Azerbejani story teller Nesami. The story is basically that King Khosrow is in love with his Queen Shirin, who is also in love with Farhad, a stone-cutter. Khosrow tests Farhad's love for Shirin by telling him that Shirin has died (killed herself?). Farhad throws himself off a cliff. Khosrow is murdered, Shirin kills herself.

The story was written as a poem in the Persian style in Turkish by Sinin Seykih sometime in the 14th (?) century. It is this pair of lovers mentioned frequently in the book. I'm not familiar with the Turkish poem, though.

The Persian Romeo and Juliet is Laili and Majnun.

Here is a link that talks about Nezami and some of his story. I find Persians stories to be dreadfully sad. Ditto Persian movies.

Persian Poet Nezami

Kleo

Sue426,

I am thinking about doing the same thing. I appreciate Jonathan and Pedln's hard work. It's just everytime I think it's in my head, it's gone like a puff of smoke.

Kleo,

Thank you for the link.

Laili and Majnun.

Kleo, doesn't Majnun mean "insane"?

- Sue - it sounds as if you are enjoying the book too. I love it because it is demanding, , exotic, shocking, puzzling and rewarding in that it stretches the mind to reach further. I love rereading it because it is so tantalizingly beautiful. And I love the discussion of the book because of all the groping, fellow adventurers who are reaching into the same pages. I hope you come to enjoy this way to experience a book too.

-Jonathan - This book is about "looking and seeing." That describes painting too, - there's a quote from somewhere in these early pages - - "Painting is the silence of thought and the music of sight."Thank you for slowing us down to listen to the music and focus on each chapter/painting.

Chapter 5. I am your beloved Uncle.
- Pedln, I am puzzled by Uncle Enishte's position too. What we learn about him in chapter 5 -
- he's well off - has a two story house
- he's an artist - on the second story he has a painting workshop
- he was a cavalryman at one time (maybe everyone was at this time?)
- he was the Sultan's ambassador to Venice
- he has influence - has sold the Sultan on the idea of being portrayed with everything he owned, his realm - in the Venitian style.
- he is in a position to commission such a portryal, (paid for directly by the Sultan's Head Treasurer)...four illustrators:
- one to paint dogs,
- one to paint horses,
- one to paint trees
one to illustrate the border designs. Do you think this one is the murdered Elegant Effendi, since he is the gilder?

I'm thinking that the Sultan is captivated with the idea of his own special portrait, but not I'm not certain he suspects that such a painting is contrary to Islam. He really doesn't seem to know what the finished portrayal will look like. I get the impression that the murdered Elegant Effendi had just discovered the nature of the portrait and was threatening to report it.

As he was dying in the well, he concludes that his death "conceals the conspiracy against our religion, traditions and the way in which we see the world."

Does the murderer see their work in this same light?

Regarding the new work where the Uncle wants to make a portrait of the Sultan. Now that could be quite offensive to fundamentalist Muslims. I believe they see self images that are recorded as being offensive. The Taliban for instance would not allow photographs to be taken of themselve in close ups and especially of women even in Purdah. I do not think its a true understanding of the Koran its a twisted way of obeying the "thou shalt not make graven images" which is both in the Koran and the Old Testament. It would have been even worse in the period we are studying as portraiture was only just beginning to be popular in Europe.

carolyn

As for Blacks cousin she seems to be the ultimate coquette while hiding behind her culture's customs regarding the behaviour of women.

Carolyn

MEA CULPA. I do have the map! In flipping thru' the book to the first chapter, I missed the map page. I should have double-checked before declaring my edition didn't have it.

NOTE: There was no real dog, just the picture of one. The storyteller is doing the talking for the dog and later for the tree. Jonathan did a beautiful job of explaining all the subtleties of the reasons for this, so I won't say any more on that.

I have read the Koran, actually. I received one as a gift from a friend who knew of my interest in matters of faith. It took a lo-o-ng time, but I actually read it all.

PEDLIN, I feel the same about Sherkue, and it seems that may be the typical Eastern approach of women exploring a possible new relationship. I saw the same thing in reading "The Bookseller of Kabul". The woman pretends a studied disinterest, but makes certain the man in question knows of her 'disinterest'. After all, it would be shameful and undignified to communicate an interest in a member of the opposite sex. Bewilderment of the male seems to be high among the female priorities in romantic scenarios.

I have seen portraits which included a number of objects that revealed the backgound, interests and status of the person portrayed. I've always thought that a much more interesting approach than simply portraying a person totally unknown to me.

What puzzles me...no doubt a Western mindset...was the view that the goal of the artist is to reproduce perfectly what was originally painted. Any variance, any originality, is "imperfection". Any desire to paint something new was vanity. The sole purpose of painting was to illustrate a story. This concept takes some mental adjustment on my part, but it appears to be a major point in the book.

Babi

The Taliban were not fundamentalist Muslims, they're just kooks.

Bubble, I don't know. Anyone in here speak Persian? I will ask tomorrow, we're making boloni and someone will know. Maybe you're thinking of madjoun, which may make you crazy?

Babi, certainly throws a screw into modern art, minimalism, cubism, all sorts of things, doesn't it?

Kleo

Yes, I know. The chapter title is I am Orhan. But it's really all about the small boy's observations about what his mother is up to. And she's up to plenty, but what is it.

'She's foxy.' 'She's a coquette.' She's a 'typical Eastern woman.' Good comments. I like to think that she will find a place in the fictional woman's Hall of Fame. Pamuk does a dazzling literary job of drawing her portrait. And it's no accident that we see much of her through Orhan's eyes. He's a real Mama's boy. He's not happy with what she's up to, but he hardly realizes that.

The slower we go, the more we'll enjoy this book. Thanks, Joan.

As for Black's role in an unusual love-affair. We're never left in any doubt about his passion. What little doubt he has about really being in love with Shekure is resolved by something so funny, only a man could understand. No, no, it's terrible!

The Taliban already have some foothold in the North Johnathon. Afghanistan is a mess just as messy as Iraq.

Carolyn

PS Fundamentalists have a twisted view of Islam Kleo and as far as I am concerned the Taliban have that twisted view.

carolyn

Taliban in the north? The part of the country they never took? Since when? Maybe you're thinking of Pashtuns on the NE border, but not Taliban in the north.

And the Afghans are the ones who have gone home--to Afghanistan.

Everyone has gone home? Who is everyone? Most of the Taliban came from a rather small area of the border of Pakistan and Afghanistan. They're the ones who should go home, and they have. The rest of the Pashtuns, the Tajiks, the Hazara, all these other people in Afghanistan today who call themselves Afghans are home. They're coming back, not going anywhere. They are home.

"Fundamentalism" does not mean "twisted." It means a strict and literal interpretation of a sacred text. My Eastern Catholic family, my Jewish baby-sitter growing up, and most of my Muslim relations are all fundamentalists.

They actually read the sacred texts. It's a requirement.

The Taliban glories in not being able to read the Koran.

You can't be a fundamentalist unless you take the sacred text literally--that's the definition of fundamentalism. The Taliban care no more about the Koran than they do about the women of Afghanistan. By definition, by their own bragging, they cannot be fundamentalists.

Kleo

I am beginning to relax. I do not feel as uptight about "My Name is Red." My nervousness blocked my mind from working and loving the book.

When a country goes to war, people flee including artists in the area. In such chaos, in new surroundings, an artist's work becomes his ticket to survival. He sells it one page at a time. Sometimes pages are torn from books. The pictures stands alone. Its complete story unknown. I think "The Tree" is one of those pages. It is no longer a part of a complete story.

This, I think, is what Black shares with the workers in Master Osman's studio. During Black's twelve years away, he saw artists flee from a harsh regime.

"A few great masters who hadn't abandoned illustrating were making and selling individual pieces, which weren't part of any story at all."

My mind has gone down another path. As I continue to read, I become more concerned about art rather than who murdered poor Elegant. Before the end of the book, I hope the two paths will meet. Then, I will hate the murderer again and also know the fragility of a piece of art and its magnificent value. Oh, I will also know who is the killer.

Joan, I loved the quotation you gave. I think the words are so beautiful and the meaning too.

The dog, the tree, I think, are parts of a completely whole book. If so, are there more pieces to come?

Jonathan and Pedln and the other posters are helping me to understand and enjoy "My Name is Red."

There is so much snow talked about in the book. Does it snow often in Turkey?

Black describes his travels to Master Osman. Black tells Master Osman that in the deserts snow does not fall. Then, Black tells a story. I just love these words.

"When it snowed on the fortress of Tiflis, the washerwomen sang songs the color of flowers and children had ice cream under their pillows for summer."

Those words, I think, just sing. It is like the beginning of a fairy tale.

Well, Turkey has a mediterranean climate in the west, (Thrace and western Anatolia?) but has mountain chains throughout the country blocking the interior from this more mild climatic conditions. The interior and eastern Turkey must have continental climate. Probably some serious miserable winters. Its mediterranean climate is like that found in most of California west of the Sierra Nevada/Cascade Mountains crest, in Chile, in sw Australia, South Africa and the Mediterranean, hot dry summers, and wet winters, fairly mild due to being near a very large body of water.

Tiflis, or Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia has a somewhat mild continental climate, mild in comparison to the Russian steppes. It has hot summers and cold winters, certainly must snow every winter. But it's not as harsh a climate as nearby big cities because some of the worst of the continental weather is blocked by the mountains surrounding it, and extremes are moderated by its proximity to the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea.

Hats, I think a lot of the book sings. In fact, this is a book of miniatures. You're looking at each overall, but here and there you find a personal treasure, something you love that stands out.

Kleo

Hats, It can be bitterly cold in Turkey and some places have lots of snow, but mainly on the mountains. I am reminded of the search for the Ark, on Ararat, and how it is unaccessile most of the year because of the bad weather (apart from the political problems).
Izmir, Ben's birth town, had snow very seldom and he remembers it as a very special event. Istanbul is more to the north and does get snow storms.

Israel has a Mediterranean climate too but it is more temperate than Turkey. Bubble

Pamuk's second book is entitled Snow. It concerns a writer in a town that is snowed in.

I hope that I reread each post and this hasn't been asked yet. WHY in "I Am Called Butterfly" did the illustgrator paint in shades of red when depicting the deliverance of the debtors, condemned to prison. He says "I 'd included his wife, wearing a purple dress in the wretchedness of destitution, along with his long haired daughter, sorrowful yet beautiful, clad in a crimson mantle. So that this man Black, with his furrowed brows, might understand how illustrating equaled love-of-life I was going to explain why the chained gang of debtors was extended across two pages; I was going to tell him about the hidden logic or red within the picture; "
What is the hidden meaning of this? Does it mean shocking? What am I missing here? It must be something because this dude firmly believes in his own skills and considers himself the best of the miniaturists.

I have just started "I am called "Butterfly." I am having a hard time remembering the three questions asked by Master Osman. After I read one of the stories or parables, I have to turn the pages back to read the questions. Is anyone else doing that?

My other question, the words Alif, Ba, Djim, are these the numbers one, two, three in the Turkish language?

Hats. to me it sounds like A, B, C. The digits would be "Bir" for 1, "Icky" for 2, "Utch" for 3.

Now I see there are only three stories. I don't need to turn the pages that many times. I might have exaggerated. I am going back to read what Kleo wrote about Husrev and Shirin. I think she had a link too. Thanks Kleo.

Bubble, so it's A, B, C and not numbers, right? Thanks.

ALF, I wondered about that, too. Butterfly said he was going to explain, but he didn't so far as I could see. Remember that the earlier miniatures we saw thru' the links were predominently colored in reds and golds? Maybe these colors were intended to convey the color, heat and beauty of life. Maybe even sorrow was considered a part of the beauty of life; one was at least alive and feeling. I really have no idea. I'm just 'what if'ing.

HATS, I'm so glad you have 'relaxed'...I like the results! I was also struck by the idea of 'coloring' with songs. It made me stop and imagine how that could be. There are a lot of things in this book that make me stop and think...often with bewilderment!

I loved Esther's explanation of all the subtle things conveyed by Shekure's letter. I had to laugh, and I don't doubt that she was 100% correct. And sending back that picture. On the surface it might appear to be rejection, until one realizes that she has kept that picture all these years, despite the fact she was married. And then, to close the letter by inviting Black to go where he could see her face!?? Talk about playing games!

Babi

Andy, I missed that reference to the crimson cloak - and "the hidden logic of red within the picture." Will add that to my RED list. We've met no character named "RED" yet. Maybe the title refers to the color red?

Hats, I don't recall a post or a link about Shirin and Husrev - I remember thinking when I read Kleo's post on the Persian love story, Khosrow and Shirin that that Shirin really got around. Wait!...is "Khosrow" the same name as Husrat, Husrev?

The picture of Husrev and Shirin plays an important part in Black and Shekure's "love story" - Is this a love story? While there are some delicious references to love, I'm thinking NOT a love story right now. My very favorite quote keeps spinning in my mind - one still unanswered after all these years. I think it was the wise Esther who said -

"Tell me then, does love make one a fool or do only fools fall in love?"

By the way, speaking of colors, did you notice that Esther is required to wear a PINK dress always?... because she is Jewish?

Today I intend to go through the stories, A, B and C/D - (thanks, for the translation of Alif, BA and DJIM, Bubble). The replies to Black's interrogation of each of these illuminators seem to significant. Maybe I'll take notes ...Have a good Saturday, everyone! Off to grandson's third birthday.

I really look forward to your posts!

Now that I've read all 18 assigned chapters, plus 19 as "bonus", I'm turning back to the beginning.

So far it seems that a very large part of the story hinges indeed on the arising conflict between representing legends, historic events and personages in the traditional style-- which is described in great detail from all angles and several times over -- and the strenuous, clandestine attempts on the part of "innovative", i.e. rebellious, miniaturists having been exposed to Western influences in portraiture of the Venetian School, most particularly Shekure's father, the Sultan's former Ambassador to Venice.

It is significant, I believe, that after six centuries the basic struggle even in everyday life and customs is still very much the same, as KLEO has indicated.

Black does in fact show up a dozen times with something to say. Twice as often as the Murderer. Twice as often as Esther. More often than Shekure. Wouldn't this make an extraordinary audio-book?

Pay 'close attention to my story and my fate' he tells the listener. Melancholy and ecstatic by turns, he tells about his love. Cast out of Paradise twelve years earlier, and sent into an amorous exile, after making his love known to a twelve-year-old Shekure. It was she who had made him optimistic about life, had made the world seem a good place, even his schooldays had been made 'sunny, festive and fertile.'

Away from her, on his lonely journeyings, he had felt that forlorn 'desire on icy nights to sputter out and vanish like the dying flames in the iron stoves of the caravansary.' Only her image emblazoned on his heart gave him the will to live.

But what's this talk about the 'restlessness peculiar to the luckless, to murderers, and to sinners.' Everybody could admit to knowing the feelings of being lucless and sinful, but, I for one, knew nothing about the feelings of a murderer until I had read chapter four of this book. How would Black know?

And so, Chapter 4 adds many more pieces to the puzzle we're working on. But why 'the delicate coffee cups that had come all the way from China by way of Portugal' about which Shekure's mother had boasted so often? The cups will probably fit in somewhere. Or, perhaps they're just part of the pretty embellishment of the story. As well as the 'blue kilim from Kala', whatever that is.

Black is brought out of a reverie by his uncle's strange words:

'Were you aware, that often after death our souls will be able to meet with the spirits of men and women in this world who are peacefully asleep in their beds.'

Enishte seems to be preoccupied by thoughts of death. Of cours we have his dark words at the end of Chapter 5:

'There was a miniaturist...he would come here...and we would work together till dawn...he left here one night never to arrive at home...I'm afraid they might have done him in.'

It might seem to some that Enishte is expecting Elegant to come to him in his sleep? Were they really painting all night?

Enter Esther, 'an enormous woman', boisterous, lively and even coquettish.' And does she know her business of bringing lovers together!

The face in the window! Praise Allah! What a scene! Fire and ice. What a chapter!

Kilim are tapestry-woven rugs or carpets made in Turkey, the Middle East, eastern Europe, and Turkestan.

It seems the oldest story in the world, the new comes to town and threatens old and established customs, the parents freak out and panic, the children rebel, then everyone settles down. I think it is Turgenev's Fathers and Sons that made me first see this as a fundamental story in history. I think, though, someone else mentioned it first in here, Traude.

Crimson red? Porcelain? I wonder if these are showing the influence of the Age of Exploration on Ottoman Turkey. The crimson red comes from the cochineal insect (Dactylopius coccus), a parasitic insect of opuntia cacti, first brought to the Old World in the early 16th century by Hernán Cortés (this according to Wikipedia). It became a very popular and sought after color.

I don't think that by the late 16th century crimson would be a color of red worn by someone in debtor's prison. The red in Persian rugs, the deeper red, is from the roots of the European madder (Rubia tinctorum). A miniaturist would not say crimson for madder red, I think.

Porcelain would have to come by the late 16th century from European explorers as the Silk Road trails, all the wonderful cities Pamuk mentions, has collapsed by now. That she own Chinese porcelain from Portuguese explorers is a sign of wealth and change and value to the new that the old customs can no longer provided. 300 years before this, under the Byzantine Empire, the porcelain would have come over the Silk Road. The world is changing.

Joan, this is what I said, not tied neatly together:

"The lovers in the story are from an Ottoman Empire poem, maybe 13th century, based on a very famous Persian love story, Khosrow and Shirin by the late 12th century Azerbejani story teller Nesami. The story is basically that King Khosrow is in love with his Queen Shirin, who is also in love with Farhad, a stone-cutter. Khosrow tests Farhad's love for Shirin by telling him that Shirin has died (killed herself?). Farhad throws himself off a cliff. Khosrow is murdered, Shirin kills herself.

The story was written as a poem in the Persian style in Turkish by Sinin Seykih sometime in the 14th (?) century. It is this pair of lovers mentioned frequently in the book. I'm not familiar with the Turkish poem, though."

"The story" meaning the Persian story of Khosrow and Shirin into the Turksih poems of Husrev and Shirin, the "pair of lovers mentioned frequently in the book."

Kilims are, as Bubble points out, the rugs with geometric designs made throughout southwest Asia. They have no nap, so even the layman would be able to identify a kilim. However, I think in Turkish "kilim" means prayer rug.

Just for fun I found a picture of woven kilim dog-collars in reds on a crimson background from AnatolianDog.com:

Kilim Dog Collars from AnatolianDog.com

Kleo

resized

I hope it's ok that I'd like to jump in here a bit late. I couldn't resist when I saw the book for a buck at Half Price.

Just so I know- when it says chapter 18 for week one, does that mean it's fair game to discuss all parts of that reading from the get go? I want to be sure not to do a self spoiler! LOL

I need to catch up to everyone, both in the book and here on the board so I may not be saying much for a few days or more.

Having just read the first three chapters, I am asking myself what I have gotten myself into. Talk about a challenge! I had to read the first chapter a few times, and have just this moment realized *who* the murdered person is by reading reviews on amazon. That will give you an idea of how totally befuddled and perplexed I am right now.

I've read through about half of the posts so far not wanting to get too far ahead of my reading (that won't be hard at this rate, who am I kidding?)

I recall seeing the whirling dervishes dance when they visited Turkey on The Amazing Race last year. Quite a spectacle!

Oh, by the way, a few amazon reviews mentioned how long it took the person to read the book, etc. My head is spinning, just like one of the dervishes about now. Later, all.

here are a few things I'd add to your comments on the first few chapters.

A surprise/memorable moment- the fact that Effendi's soul cannot be released until he is buried. Last time I checked we Christians believe the soul goes immediately. It's interesting that they believe burying the body facilates the soul's release.

It was mentioned that the murderer took Effendi by surprise for the rear - but I'm not so sure. The blow certainly took him by surprise but he says that he wasn't sure the murderer would "go through with it". I envisioned face to face contact there, with a first blow being sudden and unexpected.

Because Effendi implores us to find the murderer, doesn't necessarily mean to me that HE doesn't know the murderer's identity. I think he does know the identity by other things he says about consoiracy, jealousy. How could he know that if he was unaware of the killer's identity?

His boots were not only mud covered, but also snow covered, if that makes any difference. Hard to say at this point.

"After I read one of the stories or parables, I have to turn the pages back to read the questions." (Hats)

Hats, I do have to do the same thing, in fact, I find myself returning to Chapter 2, "I Am Called Black" (I think Jonathan suggested this to someone...) and I feel grounded again. I think it's because it brings me into the mood of Istanbul, even in the 20th Century. Istanbul, for me, is just that sort of place...maddeningly glorious...or is it gloriously maddening!?!

I did it again this afternoon. And what I realized is that the mystical and special moodiness of Istanbul at dusk, as we women readers are accompanied by Pamuk, is something our less fortunate 'Turkish sisters' cannot always experience first hand even though they may be in Istanbul for all of their lives...even till this day!

The women and girls in many many cases would not be permitted to go to these quarters nor anywhere outside of their homes in the evening without their family, and only to a few proscribed areas during the daytime, and then, only accompanied by a male relative.

Alliemae

RED! Babi- I'm with you on the color and the what-if-ings. Remember Shekure reminisced of Black portraying her and himself in place of Husrev and Shirin's image , making himself all in blue and she all in red. He also wrote their names beneath these figures. hmmm, perhaps you're onto something Babi when you say it may be the heat and beauty of life.
Or maybe JoanP is correct in her assumption that this title might be referring to the color red.

Isn't that funny how we all pause over a "favorite" sentence of just a few words. My favorite thus far is:" Painting is the silence of the thought and the music of sight." ahahah, so poetic, n'est pas?

I need to reread Alif, Ba, Djim once more.

'Listen, now, to what else Shekure said.'

Aren't we lucky to have Esther explain things for us. What a character she is. What a gossip mavin. What an important role she plays in the community.

If you want your letter to get to all the right people, send for Esther. If you want to know how to read a letter, ask Esther. If you want to know what's going on, just give a listen.

For professional reasons she sometimes pretends to be illiterate. Can she, or can't she read? Shekure 'assumes', we are told, that Esther is illiterate, so Esther replies, 'True, I can't read what's written.'

But I don't think Shekure much cares if the gossip-monger and letter-carrier sees to it that the letter to Black is read by others. What she tells Black, she may want others to know. Don't get any ideas.

On the other hand, the letter is open to interpretation, and the true meaning can easily be surmised by 'smelling it, touching it and fondling it', as Esther does. And promptly gives us a fantastic 'reading' of the letter.

Come back soon, Esther, good woman. We need your help with trying to understand the games these people in Istanbul play.

Welcome, welcome, all new readers. By all means, read ahead, to the end, and then come back to drag us slow readers along. Underline Red, every time you come across it, and watch your book light up.

Nuts -- I just backtracked to a previous page and lost a post.

Scootz, welcome, welcome. So glad you could join us, and don't worry about coming in late. We are all moving rather slowly. In asnwer to your question, yes, anything up through Chpt. 18 is "discussable," although you will find that most of us have not reached the end of this week's section. Jonathan is doing a fantastic job of discussion and summarizing a few chapters each day, pointing us in the right direction.

Jonathan, so you are grateful to Esther, the willing gossip who brings us much news. Yes, but can we trust her? I don't think so. The way she runs straight to Hasan, the brother-in-law of Shekure, and tells him all. Isn't that cozying up to the devil?

Babi and Andy - RED -- it appears in many places. In chpt. 12 Butterfly points oout the RED cushion, still warm from his wife. And as Black looks over the workroom, Butterfly also shows us the RED sash that has been dropped by his wife. Probably not significant, but perhaps indicative that we will see a lot of RED.

Bubble and Kleo -- thanks for the info on "kilim." The patterns on the dog collars reminded me of designs seen on works by Native Americans.

Alliemae- Turkey is very different from the other Moslem countries. They don't treat their female relatives as prisoners and restricted second-hand citizens. Ata-Turk separated religion from state and that is very obvious when you visit the country now.

Woman do not need to cover their face, they can go around freely in town, shop alone if they feel like it. They lead very modern lives and I thought that nowadays they spend more time on terraces of cafe while gossiping than in their own kitchen. Seldom are male relatives with them, but often other males stop by to exchange a word with them or offer a compliment. Bubble

Now I am in the funhouse all over again. I had to go out (Saturday) run more than a few errands. I came in so tired. I went straight to bed. All of a sudden there are hundreds of posts. More thoughts than I ever thought to think about. I have not read chapter pass Butterfly.

I am excited to catch up. Still, a little bit queasy in the stomach about all this information and knowing there is more to come. I am going to read all the way up to chapter eighteen. Then, I am going to reread from the beginning. At the same time trying to keep up with everybody.

I love the posts! The book and the posts together make me not care what facts I mix up. I am, finally, enjoying the book.

I would not look at Amazon. Those reviewers can give a lot of spoilers. Spoilers will take away my fun world of confusion.

The people here, at this time, are the only ones I can understand.

Kleo, thank you for the beautifully woven dog collars. The patterns look very intricate.

Bubble,

I wondered how the Turkish women lived in Turkey. I pictured those women being unable to get a free education and all the rest.

Joan, I nearly died when I read about Esther needing to wear a pink dress. I immediately thought about the armbands the Jewish people wore during Nazi Germany. I had never heard of the Jewish people wearing pink dresses to highlight their identity. People will use any method to set people apart to maintain the idea that they are superior.

I do like Shekure. I think she has suffered a lot. I am not looking at the book. So, I might say some fact wrong. I like Shekure because her first husband died. I don't think she loved him deeply. Still, it was a loss and made her world change. Secondly, does she know whether he is really dead? Isn't there a question whether he is just missing or dead? I think there is a question mark around his death. I might have this confused.

Then, I think, the second husband was abusive.

Thirdly, she has two boys. She doesn't seem to be a bad mother.

I think she really loved Black. The Turkish traditions and a father who upheld those rules of society kept her from allowing the relationship to grow. Wait a minute. Did Shekure choose her husband because he was so very handsome?

I don't think this is a love story either. I think the main story is about the Turkish art. At least, that is my interest in the book.

My problem is I want to comment on each page I read. There is really something worthy on every page. There are not many books where each and every page is worth talking about.

I am not going to comment again for awhile. I am going to read, do some catching up.

Here is an interestic note about kilim's motifs.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/turkc-l/message/124

and here are some examples http://www.annabellerugs.com/a1rugs/ankiru.html

Purely a guess, but something was said about each miniaturist having their own color and voice. This clicked with me as to Black and Red.

A favorite sentence so far-p. 15, the yet to be called murderer says- ..." my offense at time recedes from me like a foreign galleon disappearing on the horizon."

I am noticing that as I read, a word or two will pop up and I'll recall having reading about it in some other context. Anyone esle notice this? As though clues are being dropped along the way like bread crumbs in the forest? Something about a blue door came up last night as I read. A bell rang in my head. Now where did I hear that before?

I love to try and see clues as I go. I don't fret over them but they're fun to encounter as I try to puzzle it all out. Once you have several chapters under your belt, the reading seems easier and not so confused.

There seems to be a theme running through about pictures and people and how they are connected, almost in a metaphysical way. Almsot as though the picture can contain a bit of one's soul. I'm watching for more of this as I go.

As to why Effendi was murdered? Seems he made some accusations about the secret book that could not be tolerated, that would, if believed, put others in jeopardy.

Back to continue catching up.

Bubble, thank you for the links. I would love to see more of those Kilim motifs.

Scootz, you are way ahead of me. I tried to conclude why Elegant was murdered. I am sure it was the wrong conclusion after reading earlier posts. Your reason, I think, is the one given by the other posters.

I remember the Book of Festivities. I think this is the one dealing with the celebration of fifty-two days of circumcision. Is this a true custom of the Turkish people? All of my boys were circumcised on the eighth day from their birth.

I need to take notes. Are there three books now?

1. The secret book
2. The Book of Festivities
3. The Book of Victory

Are there more books to come?

Hats- no, no you say you have read to Butterfly and I'm not there yet. Have only just read the I Am A Tree chapter. I have caught up with the posts, I think but not the reading yet. It's going smoothly now.

I don't think the dog actually spoke to us- wasn't it the storyteller who speaks for the dog as he displays his picture? And ditto for the tree? I found the Tree chapter very telling.It opened up my eyes quite a bit.

As far as I can see so far, the crime is going to be the *way* in which the book was being done- in the style of the Franks! (gasp!) This would have been totally against Islam, no? Now, whether this was discovered by Effendi, or whether he was actually complicit in doing it this way, I'm not sure, but I think it's the latter.

Apparently, the Franks (Europeans) portray people, trees, etc as they actually are and so those things can be identified by others in real life. This is not how the Muslims want their pictures to be and I am reminded of native Americans believing that a picture can steal one's soul. For reasons unknown as yet, it seems the secret book was being done in the Frank fashion.

So, did they previously portray people and things un-like how they were on purpose? Seems so.

Back to reading, catching up.

These stories of blindness and the creation of the worldly realm by Allah is much like our Christian beliefs; blindness & darkness, then light, then sound, then action, etc, etc. Allah is "HE!"

I find Olive's story very interesting. From what I can understand it was counted as religious perfection to become blind. Then, the artist will see the world through Allah's eyes by using his memory. His art, after blindness, becomes pure. This is why the illuminators, the calligraphers, minaturists didn't mind straining their eyes. Blindness was a blessing, a closer step to a reward from Allah.

What a surprise to learn some artists blinded themselves on purpose. Of all the stories told by the apprentices, Olive's, to me, seemed the most fascinating.

"According to master miniaturist mirek, blindness wasn't a scourge, but rather the crowning reward bestowed by Allah upon the illuminator who had devoted an entire life to his glories;...."

"They accepted the work, the endless drawing and staring at pages by candlelight for days without break, as the pleasurable labor that delived the miniaturist to blindness."

Is this fact? During this time in the Ottoman Empire or in Turkey did artists feel that blindness brought them closer to portraying art in the pure way Allah would want?

Art was very important during this time in the Turkey culture. From what I can understand the sultans and shahs who had power at that time controlled the field of art. It seems the artists had to please those in political power as well as Allah. Is that right? Am I off center?

All of this reminded me of the beautiful artwork stolen by the Nazis during the Second World War. As Westerners is art as important to us?

There is some interesting "stuff" here and it pertains to our story. Especially, scroll down to where it asks

"What does Islamic tradition say about the matter?", second paragraph.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/middle_east/4674864.stm

I was in Turkey in two separate situations at the same time in 1989 and was able to see first hand a double standard upon which I base my comments.

First of all, I apologize for generalizing in my former comments.

Bubble you are right...and, there is also another side which I failed to differentiate in my former post about Turkish women and Turkish society.

On the one hand I was a 'fellow' in a group of other fellows studying under the American Institute in Turkey. We studied in Istanbul. We had an enormous amount of freedom and yes, did see many of the wealthier and better educated Turkish women. As to whether or not "nowadays they spend more time on terraces of cafe while gossiping than in their own kitchen," well, I wasn't in their conversation nor was I sitting close enough to them to be able to analyze the content of their personal and private conversations.

The Turkish women I was privileged to know in the academic environment did indeed sit in coffee houses, sometimes with us even...and these women talked about politics, society, education and how to help make a better world.

On the other hand, I was married to a Turk from the Trabzon region at that same time and was 'taken under the wing' of his family who had joined the rest of the family in Istanbul as the tea picking season of Trabzon was over and the women--the principle tea pickers along with the smaller children--were now free to return to their menfolk and take care of them and their households in Istanbul. I could go on about why the men were in Istanbul with only a few left in Trabzon with the women during the tea-picking season but I don't want to take up any more space here in this discussion with an explanation of the socio-economic conditions of a portion of the Turkish people.

The first thing I remember as my brother-in-law who had picked me up from my dormitory on that first weekend, was my husband's aunt immediately covering my head with a scarf, quite upset for me (not with me) for having my head uncovered. They couldn't 'get' why I, a grown woman...and a married one, was studying at all! And with my head uncovered!! I was actually considered by them somewhat of a 'poor innocent' at least, that was the impression I got. I won't swear to it because it would have been rude of me to ask them. Come to think of it...I'm probably being rather rude assuming it now just based on my own opinion.

I became very friendly with the women in the family and grew to know them fairly well, and they were living in Istanbul, in the 20th century, in the conditions which I posted previously.

In addition I would like to add this: I became very close friends with our 'house-sister' at the dormitory. She was working toward her Ph.D. and single and still lived with her family. She always wore a long scarf around her waist sort of like a belt and when I complimented her on how pretty those scarves were and what a nice fashion statement they seemed to me she explained that she had to have it with her because when she left campus and returned home she had to place this scarf on her head because she didn't want to upset her father who insisted that the women under his roof covered their heads. She also explained he was a kind and good man and she loved him very much...he simply believed women's heads should be covered because of his deep religious beliefs.

Again, I apologize for generalizing. I guess we can all only really know what we see and only the small segments of life we have been a part of...and the cross-sections of the people we actually meet and come to know.

Alliemae

That's beautiful, Hats.

Somewhere back there, I came to the same conclusion. And have had fun ever since.

'Oh, why was I there at the window just when Black rode by on his white steed?'

Black on his white horse must have been a magnificent sight, as it was intended to be. Just as Shekure's appearance at the window had been carefully staged, for its classical effect. Just the way things happened in the illustrated books, with great attention to detail. Black proud of the new silver bridle and hand-worked saddle for his horse. And Shekure using the thin, melancholy pomegranate tree as a foil for her stunning beauty.

Shekure finds herself bewildered by her feelings. Only her affection and care for her two boys are certain and constant.

It's just as her friend Masruse says:

'a person never knows exactly what she herself is thinking.'

This chapter is interesting for its description of domestic arrangements in the community. Shekure goes to considerable lengths in explaining the peculiar position she is in as the wife of a man missing in action. We've already heard from Esther about Shekure's BIL, Hasan. For that matter, we've also heard about Uncle Hasan's ruby-handled sword from Shevket, Orhan's older brother.

In the unpleasant circumstances of life in a father-in-law's house, when we hear about Hasan's forcible attempt to get into her bedroom, Shekure uses a strange expression to explaing her pretended hysterics. She was, she tells us, suddenly struck by a 'fit of jinn-panic.' In the next chapter, as we shall see, the old Shah Tahmasp gets himself into a nervous fit when he is possessed by a jinn. And on and on. Jinns are mentioned more frequently than Allah.

Shekure's emotions run a whole gamut of feeling and thought in this first appearance. From the freshness of an old love made new again, to the sorry realization in the last paragraph, that her aging father feels death coming on.

It's just wonderful to see such lively participation in this discussion. Everybody is adding so much of interest.

A question about the original title, BENIM ADIM KIRMIZI. I understand, I hope correctly, that Benim Adim means "My name is Red," but what is Kirmizi?

I was very interested in your experiences in Turkey, and even though I have stopped reading the book, I look at the discussion every few days.

Here are some pictures of Trabzon - mainly of Eastern Orthodox monasteries apparently, so it is not exactly the style of our miniaturists, and not the realistic way of the Venitians either.

http://www.pbase.com/dosseman/trabzon

Sue, "Kirmizi" is the exact translation of crimson. Benim= mine; Adim= name; Kirmizi= crimson.

Right on, Scootz. Every voice comes in with a point of view. When Black comes calling at his uncle, we hear about what happened from the uncle, from Black, from Orhan, from Shikure. How can the reader help help the feeling of confusion?

Furthermore the whole novel is a spectacular example of narratie architecture, designed in a truly byzantine manner. That's why no fast reader can spoil it for the slow reader. Someone in chapter 37, for example, is only in a different part of the maze...

Hi Sue, didn't want to ignore your question even though it has already been answered.

Bubble's interpretation was right on!

'Kirmizi' also means 'red'.

I'm glad you enjoyed my take on Turkey. I loved it so, Sue...I cried when I had to come home.

I usually don't post too often Sue but I am enjoying the book...I'm just taking it at my own pace. I seem to enjoy it better relaxed and unrushed.

Alliemae

Can someone please enlighten me? Just what *is* the third question? Relates to blindness, I see that, but what's the question?

Also, Bihzad is mentioned a lot and deserved a google. At the link find info on him (I wasn't even sure he was actually a real person) plus some of his paintings that still survive. looks like perspective hadn't been discovered yet.

http://members.tripod.com/~khorasan/TajikPersonalities/Bihzad.htm

Jonathan,

I like how you think of "My Name is Red" too. Like a maze, I will keep this idea in my head.

Bubble,

Thank you for the Kalim motifs. There is symbolic meaning in wheat, etc. The pieces shown are very, very pretty and intricate.

Scootz,

Wow! that link about the Islamic tradition is very interesting. It gives me a deeper look into the Islamic religion.

Alliemae,

I hope you will continue to share your memories about your trip to Turkey. I love the description of the scarves around the waist. Somewhere, at some time, I might have seen a woman's Turkish dress, the scarf around the waist. This is very pretty. I didn't realize later the women would use these scarves to please their father or other men in the family. By wearing the scarves on their heads the scarf takes on a double use.

Scootz,

Your link does make me think of the cartoon problem we are facing today. The link stands alone but with the idea of the cartoon riots and murders, it really comes across. Thanks.

> Oh wow, such posts! Even if you've stopped reading the book, Sue, I'm sure you are getting a lot of it through the posts.

Alliemae, I'm wondering if those beautiful scarves came from Esther? You cried when it was time to leave - how hard it must have been for your husband! He did come with you? Did he have a hard time adjusting to western life?

I cannot remember who it was who wondered if Elegant Effendi knew his murderer... when the story opens he is dead (does't see the beautiful maidens promised in the Koran) - but is is not completely on the other side as yet. His soul hasn't left his body because he hasn't had a proper burial - and his "son-of-a-whore murderer" runs free. Yes, he knows the murderer very well. He's argued with him about their work. The murderer tried to convince him not to report the other illustrators - says they were excused in Allah's eyes because they were not aware of what they were doing.

Elegant exhorts US to find his muderer - to keep "open and curious eyes". Do yourself wondering why he doesn't name him since he knows who it is?

The murderer belives that only imbeciles are innocent - and thinks that the murdered Elegant an ignorant idiot. We're looking for a rather condescending murderer who also believes that everyone is jealous of his abiilities. He tells us:

"Over time jealousy becomes an element as indispensable as paint in the life of the master artist. Hmmm...perhaps all of the illustrators feel this way then? Was Elegant murdered because the murderer was jealous of him? I don't think so. I'm wondering who you feel is the guilty illuminator after reading of Butterfly, Olive and Stork? I'm convinced that it is one of these three - are you? Enishte has sent for Black to interrogate the illuminators before they kill one another.

Before getting into the three parables and the questions Black put to the three Illuminators, I have a general question about signatures on the artists' works. Not sure what is being said about the great painter Bihzad, who felt his work needed no signature hidden within because the work was obviously his own - a hiddne signature unnecessary. .
"Where there is true art and genuine virtuosity, the artist can paint an imcomparable masterpiece without leaving a trace of his identity."
So, which is it? How can the great Bihzad produce great masterpieces identifiably his?

Thanks for the links, folks - they make the story come alive!

Kleo, do you understand the stories of Husrev and Shirin, the same as Khosrow and Shirin - Husrev a varieation of the name, Khosrow?

Alliemae, do you remember the streets of Istanbul as narrow as those Pamuk is describing here?

"As to why Effendi was murdered? Seems he made some accusations about the secret book that could not be tolerated, that would, if believed, put others in jeopardy."

But I think what was intolerable was that it would incite Huzrat Hoja's followers to riot or something, because of their forbidden depictions. It's not so much that the accusations are intolerable, but by whom they are intolerable--by the murderer! Murderers must justify their deeds.

"These stories of blindness and the creation of the worldly realm by Allah is much like our Christian beliefs; blindness & darkness, then light, then sound, then action, etc, etc. Allah is 'HE'!"

Well, yes, Allah is God, the same monotheistic God of Abraham whom Jews and Christians worship, with same root origins: the Old Testament, although I assume the Islamic one must have its own choice of books, etc. I don't know many Muslims who are versed in the Old Testament, but I've never asked.

Allimae brings up an important point Istanbul is not all of Turkey today. I would like to know does Turkey still actually BAN the wearing of headscarves in public schools? Turkey is not so much about separation of religion and state as about an attempt to secularize their society completely.

Kirmizi = scarlet cochineal dye Kirmizi is not just red, but it is specifically scarlet, I believe, because the word "kirmizi" in a number of languages means cochineal red, or scarlet. Again, I don't think a miniaturist would be casual about the use of scarlet when he meant madder read. I think it's important that it is scarlet, the new red, not madder, the familiar red.

Maybe this won't be relevant. Maybe it will.

"Someone in chapter 37, for example, is only in a different part of the maze..." Jonathan

That's how I feel

"Where there is true art and genuine virtuosity, the artist can paint an incomparable masterpiece without leaving a trace of his identity." Pamuk

"So, which is it? How can the great Bihzad produce great masterpieces identifiably his?" Joan P

The implication is that the murderer does not think Bihzad produces great masterpieces.

Thanks Scootz for that interesting URL. You're right, it is pertinent to our story isn't it?

Alliemae- don't worry at all about generalizing anything. I find your posts informative and very interesting. I wish that you would tell us more of your first hand experience, including the tea picking seasons and the socio-economic dispair. I was watching TV last night and they were interviewing children from Pakistan who had lovely scarfs around their necks which they were able to pull up and place on their heads when needed.- much like the scarves of your PHD student friend.

You said:"We had an enormous amount of freedom and yes, did see many of the wealthier and better educated Turkish women."
That surprises me! How did they allow you so much frredom there? Even if it were in an American Institute setting you were still a guest in their country. Are you still married to this Turkish gentleman?
I'm also interested, Alliemae in how true to life this story is for you, even though it was written in a time setting much different from yours?

Lots of Muslim women simply wear scarves as head covering in many countries. They can be put into place when necessary. However, they don't really stay in place that well. The only place I wear one is at the mosque or if I go to a Muslim funeral at a funeral home. I keep a couple in the car for this purpose, although if I'm short one of the other women will have one.

Turkey has been rather Europeanized, at least Istanbul in modern times. I didn't know that people thought of Istanbul as so Asian. It is a huge sprawling modern metropolis straddling two continents, as it has been for the ages of civilization in the Western world.

I thought there would have been plenty of freedom to travel through most of Europe in the 1970s. Was it really that different in Istanbul in the 1970s? Western women could even travel in large parts of the Middle East and Afghanistan and South Asia freely in the early 1970s.

What was Istanbul like in the late 16th century? Unlikely.

I assume there is an old quarter, probably in the part of the city that lies on the Asian continent, the East! There may have been an old quarter even in the 16th century. Istanbul is an ancient city with a modern name.

Kleo

Here's a picture of the financial district of Istanbul:

Istanbul at Night

It's from a page on German architecture, so I assume the buildings were designed by Germans--didn't translate or even try. Just the city at night.

Kleo

Vanessa has been to London, Paris, Glasgow, Johannesburg, Capetown, Harari, and other large cities but she says Istanbul is just enormous. She said its so big to her it was claustrophobic. She had to walk by the Bosphorus each day to get away from the feeling of being strangled by the size of the city. When they came home she told Cenk she could never live there permanently.

Carolyn

Is The Secret Book thought of as secret because within its pages lies the portrait of the Sultan? I feel whomever would paint the portrait of the Sultan would find their life in danger.

I think Scootz mentioned the Frankish artists and their ideas of art. If not Scootz someone else.

Can we compare the size of Istanbul to any American city?

The city proper of Istanbul is quite small, I thought? In fact, isn't it somewhat known for being a rather small major city like Paris and San Francisco? I assume it's a sprawling megalopolis or agglomeration like most major cities are these days. And it's probably got a high population density compared to a number of other smaller cities.

What's the size of Istanbul? I think the population is 11 million, this because it is one of the largest cities, population-wise, in the world--this is probably the source of the claustrophobia, the population density, not the physical area of the city. Size must come with units, large city in population? Large city in area?

I expect living in a city crammed in with millions of other people is an acquired taste. A difficultly acquired taste.

How do its boundaries today compare to its old boundaries? I think its about the same? Geeze, we need a Turk in here as far as I can tell.

Kleo

Istanbul is about the same size in area and population as Paris, France according to this site:

City Populations

Well, maybe not, it gives the population of San Francisco as over 4 million, and I don't think that's right. It might be including metropolitan areas for some but not for others. Okay, maybe a demographer would do as well as a Turk.

I won't delete my last or this post, but will conclude that it's just as much a maze trying to figure out modern information about Istanbul as it is trying to follow Pamuk's characters in the book.

I greatly appreciated having an insider to guide me through the Maori and New Zealand and would like the same for this conversation.

Kleo

What a tour de force of storytelling in this chapter. By the time he is finished, after a mere four pages, the storyteller has ranged far and wide over the Ottoman Empire, the history and nature of art, the creative process, and the springs of human nature.

And taken another swipe at his Esteemed Excellency, Nusret Hoja of Erzurum. The hoja and the devil shagging in the branches of the tree. Really! The hoja will be coming for the storyteller one of these days.

'I am quite lonely', says the tree. How much nicer if I were in the midst of other slender trees, seven-leaf steppe plants, billowing rock formations, and coiling Chinese clouds, as people are used to seeing them in Persian miniatures.

'I was supposed to be part of a story.'

What an hilarious story the storyteller makes of the tree's history, for his very sophisticated audience of coffe-drinking artists, the murderer among them no doubt.

Just listen to how the 'tree' sucks up to the rapt audience:

'I'm most happy, and honored to be here tonight among you, the Ottoman Sultan's miraculously inspired, eagle-eyed, iron-willed, elegant-wristed, sensitive-spirited miniaturists and calligraphers...'

The history of the 'tree', as recounted by the storyteller is great entertainment, and comes with a ton of meaning and cultural significance. Just what any tree would want.

Kleo I am sure Cenk says the population is larger than Paris. I am sure he said 13 million from memory, I will ask him tonight. I know the women in his family and the women they have in their social circle are very liberated. I have to say though they are wealthy people and Cenk went to one of the most exclusive schools in Istanbul. Some customs are important like the respect for elders in the community, the reverence of children. Children are feted in Turkey and come first not last as in so many cultures they are never regarded as a hinderance and are invited to all social occasions. When Vanessa gets married everyone will be going to the wedding including babes in arms. That is at Cenks insistence. So many weddings here do not include children in the festivities.

In Turkey even amongst the wealthy the older children in their teens and twenties are the ones who serve tea and refreshments to the elders. It is expected of them. They have a very carefree childhood but when they get to about 15 they take up their responsibilities when the family are entertaining.

Turkish men often do the cooking and do not seem to mind doing household chores. This seems to be universal in many places. My friend married a Turk from Bodrun and he and his father did much of the cooking and when he came over here to visit he cooked for friends and inlaws. Cenk cooks and cleans and in fact does all the housework his father does also even though they are well off. He is retired. I think they have someone do the very heavy spring cleaning but do everything else themselves. I must admit when Vanessa told me about Cenk I envisaged her being a slave in the household and under the thumb but it was far from reality. He does the majority of the housekeeping including washing and ironing. He is an Accountant by profession.

Turkish food is very healthy and Turks eat lots of delicious vegetable dishes. Vegetables are cheap and plentiful in Turkey and of far better quality than we get here. There is a large vegetable stall on almost every street corner in Istanbul. The produce comes in fresh every day Vanessa said.

Carolyn

Kleo,

I would enjoy hearing from an "insider" too.

Carolyn,

Do you know anything about art in the modern Turkey?

That's an impressive view. I had to think of NYC's Great White Way.

And speaking about a claustrophobic place. I felt it living in Manhattan. Was I ever happy to get back to Montana.

No Kleo I do not know about art. I know traditional craft is still very popular. The embroidery patterns that have been handed down for many generations adorn cushion covers. throws, headscarves and wraps etc. Cenks family have antique vases etc apparently the apartment is full of beautiful things I will ask Vanessa tonight about the art she saw in the wealthy homes and what modern art is about in Turkey today. I know one home she went to she said reminded her of Buckingham Palace with the huge halls and beautiful lighting and furniture. She said it was really how the other half live.

carolyn

JOANP, I really latched on to this statement of yours and wholly agree:

We're looking for a rather condescending murderer who also believes that everyone is jealous of his abiilities.

That came to mind when I read this comment by 'Butterfly':

"I can do anything. Like the old masters of Kazvin, I can draw and color with pleasure and glee. I'm better than everybody. Then he goes on to say:I have nothing whatsoever to do with the reason for Black's visit, which - if my intuition serves me correctly - is the disappearance of Elegant Effendit, the Gilder.

So, what do you make of that. He has the cockiness and vanity of the murderer, and he is quick to deny something of which he has not been accused. Clue,..or red(oops) herring?

JONATHAN, I would guess Black's insight into the restlessness of a murderer is actually hindsight. He is, after all, telling the story after the event. And upon reading "The Dog" and "The Tree" I definitely hoped there was a backdoor in that coffee shop. Sooner or later Hoja is going to hear what the storyteller has been saying, and he will not be amused!

The story parables presented by the three miniaturists really annoy me. Not the stories themselves, but the moral or meaning assigned to them at the end. For example, a story is told of madness and patricide, and we are told this establishes that a perfect picture needs no signature!!??

I suspect the choice of stories is more about the miniaturist telling the story. Butterfly, you notice, glares at Black because he believes Black is paying undue attention to the sounds Butterly's wife is making in moving about the house. Excessive jealousy from the man telling stories about jealousies.

I've been back and forth with these parables, and now I intend to ignore them. They've interfered with my pleasure in the book long enough.

Babi

Johnathon- my son lasted two days in LA and it terrified him. He could not wait to leave and head out into the American countryside! I don't think he slept all night on those two days. He said it was such a noisy city.

I think even I could handle Montana LOL

Carolyn

Isn't it strange how we become accustomed to the customary? As a girl, I had a cousin who lived in Houston a block from a very busy street while I lived in a semi-rural area. The traffic and sirens wouldn't let me sleep well when I visited her, and the quiet kept her awake when she visited me.

Babi

Hi everyone! I got so interested in this discussion that I went out and got the book. I haven't caught up yet, but I think I can steal some time from work this week, and next week is SPRING BREAK, lots of time for reading.

I did find one modern Turkish miniaturist; imagine my surprise when I read Hats' comment above. I was looking to see if I could find out what "Nusret" meant and I bumped into Nusret Colpan.

Here he is with one of his miniatures:

Nusret Colpan

Maryal

And here's the site where you can see other miniatures: Colpan's miniatures

After you get to the site, check English, and then when the index comes up, click on Tile works. There are some lovely miniatures here.

Thanks for the introduction to Colpan, DEEMS. I was struck by the picture in the first link. Look at how he has combined the older red and gold with the later popular blue. What a vibrant picture.

Babi

Talk about lavish- who knew?

http://www.its.caltech.edu/~tsa/Treasures/Grvr/82.html

And some fascinating info about coffee in Turjey, especially the history of coffee section applies here:

http://www.bsi-hq.com/coffee.html

"When Vanessa gets married everyone will be going to the wedding including babes in arms. That is at Cenk's insistence. So many weddings here do not include children in the festivities.

In Turkey even amongst the wealthy the older children in their teens and twenties are the ones who serve tea and refreshments to the elders." Carolyn

How sad that weddings exclude children in NZ. I've only been to one wedding in my lifetime that didn't have children, my sister's. She considered it so strange that she called everyone individually and explained she wanted children only at the reception, held immediately after. She provided sitters during the wedding, blah blah blah. Still weird.

What about American weddings? I got to 1 Christian wedding for every 2 dozen Afghan Muslim weddings, so maybe I don't know. What's the status?

Turkish culture is a bit like Afghan, children are included in everything. The older teens serve tea to their elders at gatherings, too. Generally only the teen girls. The oldest women don't cook, clean or anything really. The older men play cards, do some things, not much.

Afghan men are like Southern men, they do the outdoor cooking, kabob! Women cook kabob also, but the men are the masters. Most Afghan men do cook. They also CAN clean house when called upon to do so.

In my American family most of the men cook and a few sew.

I could live in Istanbul. I live in a rural area now, across from bean and tomato fields. Oh, they're grazing sheep this week. But, I could live in a big city, especially one with a history like Istanbul's. I would do nothing but look at its buildings all the time. Not everyone likes big cities, though.

I don't know what the population of Istanbul is right now. I don't know the population of Paris. I don't trust the link I posted. I was pointing out, though, that it is a physically small city with a very large population.

Ottoman Empire furnishings and decor are very ornate. I say that Afghans in America decorate in Ottoman American: lots of ornate, white walls, rugs, gold scrolled furniture.

Kleo

Over here Children are not often included in wedding invitations. My son's child went to the ceremony but not to the reception when his parents married. In fact he ended up in his mothers arms while the Pastor was officiating at the ceremony! He would not be comforted by any of us.

Carolyn

Deems, Nusret Colpan's work is gorgeous. A real, modern day miniaturist, I can't believe it. I love the colors too. I am so glad you "bumped" into those sites.

Babi, When I see red, I know red. Is there a reason you typed your red herring in red?

Scootz, I never would have believed it. Can you believe the beauty of that coffeehouse?? It's gorgeous! I must have been thinking about some little coffeehouse on 42nd street in New York. Nothing like this link shows.

Here are facts about Turkey, answering some of previous questions.

http://www.odci.gov/cia/publications/factbook/geos/tu.html

Bubble, I can't wait to look at the link.

These two quotes in the front of "My Name is Red" really struck me. Both quotes are from the Koran.

1. You slew a man and then fell out
with one another concerning him.

2. The blind and the seeing are not equal.

1. That first sentence makes me think after the murderer threw Elegant in the well and left him for dead, the murderer had an argument with another person. When the murder was committed, the other man was with him or at least, knew about the potential homicide. Was there a conspiracy to kill Elegant? Was more than one man involved in his death?

2. The second sentence seems like another clue. For me, this is a harder clue to understand. Anyway, maybe the person who wanted Elegant killed off is blind. A blind man, I think, would need another person to do the act of murder. This blind person wanted Elegant murdered because he felt he should receive all of the praise as an artist.

This is because the blind person draws from memory. Memory is pure and closer to Allah. However, Elegant ended up receiving more honor and this made the blind man jealous. He thought out a plan of murder. Then, the blind man chose someone to do the murder. After the murder there is some sort of disagreement. Maybe about payment? Was the man a hired killer?

Am I making sense? It's after four in the morning. I have read too many mysteries. They are all running together in my head, trying to fit into the murder that happens in "My Name Is Red."

Maybe these are just quotes from the Koran. I think these quotes are clues.

Someone yesterday mentioned about the parables, stories within stories bothering her. I so agree! I couldn't wait to be done with those three chapters. I'm not sure I get the three questions, or the three people's three stories regarding them.

But, I'm movin' on and hope it'll become clearer later on.

I loved the link on Colpan's work. Thank you, Deems. And it explained to me about what a miniature is. I had no idea! Thought it really meant miniature. What's up with that? Doesn't miniature mean a smaller version? The art is very colorful to say the least.

Bubble, that link is fabulous! Succinct and easy to read. All the links are great and add so much to the overall enjoyment of the book for me.

Hats-I'm not sure that blind is to be taken literally, though I could be wrong. There seems to be a thread running through about blindness/seeing. Remember that pesky third question? And so far no one has answered my question about it so I have to think no one else gets it yet either. And I feel it's all tied up with this notion of portrayal of things as they really are. I'm not there yet, in terms of comprehension.

I want to read the last 20 pages of this week's assignment today and then go back and skim before Wednesday. This has been a full two days for me since getting the book. So much information! But I'm fully enjoying it. Yes, that Turkish coffee house took me off guard as well. Very lush. Not quite Starbucks, is it?

Cathie, in Texas (which I now know is slightly smaller than Turkey)

Scootz,

Thanks for alerting me. I am not surprised. I am still in the world of the confused.

Jonathan, mentioned a maze. Maybe we really are in a maze. What seems real is really not real leading me to the worse conclusions ever.

Here's one more site with some lovely Turkish miniatures from the sixteenth century, the time period of the novel.

Turkish Miniatures

Maryal

Oh, these are beautiful! Deems, thanks!

You're welcome, Hats. If you scroll down, there is a painting on the left of Abraham sacrificing Ishael. Muslims believe that Ismael was the son almost sacrificed and not Isaac.

Good morning, early birds...(Hats, I can't tell if you got up at 4 am, or haven't gone to sleep yet!)

I'm sorry you, Babi and Scootz experienced dismay with the ALIF, BA and DJIM parables - wise to move on. I wrassled with them for some time yesterday and will share a breakdown of what I see as their significance. Hope it helps some. It did me.

Maryal, thank you for the links to the Colpan illustrations. (glad you got the book - I think you will find it a keeper.) Don't have an answer to your question on miniatures, Scootz, but was impressed with the dominance of the red colors. (I'm still looking for the "hidden logic of red" within a picture.)

All of the links are just wonderful! I'm overwhelmed at the drawings of the Turkish coffeehouses. Nothing like the small, dark hangouts I was imagining. Can you describe Turkish coffee? How does it compare to...well, to Starbucks? I'm imagining a much more potent brew, maybe even syrupy texture.

I opened a link to a wonderful colorful map here - intended to make it my desktop for the month...and now I can't find it. Was it you who provided that link, Scootz?

Hats - will keep in mind the possibility of multiple murderers - there must have been a reason for including those verses from the Koran!

Babi - Butterfly fits the profile doesn't he? Like the murderer, he claims he can do ANYTHING - can paint like the old masters. Claims to be better than any of the others - he earns the most money, therefore he must be the best. He also thinks Elegant a fool, a worthless plagiarist - without inspiration. (I wondered how much inspiration is necessary if one is imitating the Old Masters?)

Will go find my notes on the parables - hoping not to distress anyone here who has decided to ignore them.

I have not decided to ignore the parables. Joan, I am waiting for your thoughts.

Well, who knew?

Confused by the term "miniature," especially after seeing some large paintings, I finally found a definition.

From the Encyclopedia Brittanica:

miniature painting

also called (16th–17th century) Limning, small, finely wrought portrait executed on vellum, prepared card, copper, or ivory. The name is derived from the minium, or red lead, used by the medieval illuminators. Arising from a fusion of the separate traditions of the illuminated manuscript and the medal, miniature painting flourished from the beginning of the 16th century down to the mid-19th century.

So, the name comes from minium, red lead, and has nothing to do with size.

These artists of ours had best all look out, since lead paint is poisonous!

Joan,

MIPPY in her post#17 mentioned the possibility of more than one murder. It only came to me after I read those sentences from the Koran. I felt that any words written from the Koran must have extreme importance.

Deems, are you saying miniature does not mean small??? The word means red from minium? Well, that's enough to make me really dizzy.

Will try to keep this brief...and will just do Butterfly's chapter now. As Babi points out - Butterfly fits the profile. What I noticed was his constant lying to Black when he came to his house to question him. Anyone who lies like this has something to hide. ( Maybe they are all lying?) He is confident that stupid Black believes everything he tells him.- And did you notice that Butterfly tells us he felt like murdering Black, hitting him in the head with his inkpot!

The three parables were Butterfly's answer to Black's question regarding signature and style in the miniaturists work.

ALIF - The Khan blinded the artist when his wife hanged herself after he went to another concubine because the miniaturist strayed from the old masters - substituted Shirin's image for Khan's beloved wife, making the Khan jealous. (???)
Butterfly tells Black the personal stylistic changes were imperfections, so the drawing is flawed.

BA - Story of painter who is enamored with Eastern Sultan's Chinese wife who paints his love into her portrait...and boldly signs the painting. Sultan likes the beautiful painting but feels it is not an old masterpiece - but reality. The painter murders him.
Butterfly tells Black that a perfect picture needs no signature.

DJIM - A Shah, who loved book arts searches for a miniaturist husband for his only daughter. A contest for best painter, each painting the same scene.
- First signed his painting - was exiled.
Second didn't sign his, but tried to distinguish himself by drawing strange nostrils on a white horse. This was considered an imperfection, deviation from Old Masters. He too was exiled.
The third did a perfect picture...no signature, no stylistic deviations - but the daughter could find no love for her in the drawing...so he did not marry the beauty. No one did.

Butterfly tells Black that the focus of the master miniaturist's love in his picture is not a flaw, but "a new artistic rule." He knows Black doesn't understand this. Do you? Butterfly believes that illustrating = love of life. He is the one who referred to the "hidden logic of red" in a painting. If he really believes a painter should not sign his painting, or make stylistic changes...can he communicate, distinguish himself through use of color?

Hats--The name "miniature" comes from the word minium (red lead paint), but a miniature is also a small painting, such as might illustrate a book.

However, I think the style of painting is also referred to by the term miniature. I'm still working on this. Will ask artist daughter when I see her.

I wonder if the names Butterfly, stork, Olive, have a symbolic meaning?

I just started reading the new posts and then realized that I haven't quite caught up in the chapters reading so rather than create my own 'spoiler' I'm going to go back and read the rest of this week's chapters and then come back to the discussion!!

I am glad that I did get a chance to read just a few words of these new posts because they've given me the impetus to carry on. This book is not easy reading for me. Delightful, especially because I love words and the rhythm of Pamuk's writing (my first Pamuk book) but NOT easy for me!

Be back as soon as I can. Miss you all...

Alliemae

Up all night, after dropping in at the coffeehouse, to observe and to listen to the storyteller. When he is asked next morning, by Osman in the palace workshop,

'Do tell me what those illuminators and painters inllustrate, in the countries you've visited. What do they depict?'

Black picks up where the storyteller left off, both telling of how things fell apart for the artists when the long-time patron-king of the art of painting, Shah Tahmasp, grew old and senile. As the storyteller put it:

'Tahmasp lost his enthusiasm for wine, music, poetry and painting: furthermore, he quit drinking coffee, and naturally, his brain stopped working and soon he was full of the suspicions of a long-faced, dark-spirited old geezer.'

Black is kinder to the elderly, and tells Osman that,

'Shah Tahmasp reigned for fifty-two years. In the last years of his life, as you know, he abandoned his love of books, illustrating and painting, turned his back on poets, illustrators and calligraphers, and resigning himself to worship, passed away.'

Looking around, Black soon sees that Osman's royal workshop with its 80 painters, students and apprentices is also in a sad state, has grown old and stale along with its chief. Meaningless things are being crafted, making it obvious why the Sultan has turned to someone new to make a new book, in a new style. Leaving Osman resentful. And Enishte, the new man, wary of a jealous man.

'Take a look around' Enishte had instructed Black, when he sent him off to the royal workshop. Find out what the old man is thinking. What are they saying and thinking? Do they know anything about Elegant?

Surely Black is the one person in the book that we can trust. He's very candid about himself, and seems to have an objective, disinterested approach to the murderous, contentious scene he has come back to in Istanbul.

The poor devil. He was up all night, walking the floor, without ever taking his eyes off the note from Shekure.

He does the storyteller one better. If dogs and trees can be made to talk, why can't the letters on a page be made to look like angry, somersaulting, hip-swinging messengers of love?

Someone asked, I'm sure it was Hats, about other books being mentioned in MNIR. There seem to be many. We find Enishte, Black's uncle, reading the Book of the Soul. Now here's Black, reading The Revival of Religious Science, which treats of many things, including sections on the ills of marriage, as well as the benefits of marriage.

This IS getting serious, certainly when we come across such a startling insight as, if women could only be made to see the sure sign of genuine love in a man's impotence.

All the world loves a lover!

Joan- thanks for the thoughts on story numero uno. LOL You know, those chapters would have been difficult enough for me had each artist told just ONE story. Why did they each have to tell three? I had a flashback to high school where one page of history text, jammed full of names, dates, events was enough to boggle my brain. It's not even that the stories are so difficult, but there are so dang many of them. Why??? and they also seem obtuse to me. Ok, ok, I'm getting myself worked up over those chapters again- deep breath! :::inhales::::

;;;exhales::::

I have a thought about the book's title. My name is Red. I am thinking that whoever Red is, he's our man, the killer, the one we're after. I say this because he tells us in both his chapters to look for his identity through his color, and/or voice. I'm zeroing in on red and all that it hints about from here on in. Then again, I could be all wet.

I'm wondering if all these stories and chapters and events and names can possibly all be important. This seems to be (at least at this point) an unnecessarily difficult read. An awful lot going on all over the place.

Oh! and Joan? I stole your idea about setting the background on my desktop. Except I used the zodiac circle from that link posted earlier today. It looks fabulous and color? oy!

I have to say although I am enjoying the rich style of the writing the plot has my head reeling! It does not help that I have concentration problems due to my FMS!

Carolyn

Still haven't found that map! Will look harder now.

Scootz, can make Butterfly's story even shorter. See if this helps -

Butterfly wanted to make the point that even if the miniaturist's signature is left off a painting, even if the painter makes no stylistic changes from the Old Masters's methods, the painting can still be "flawed" if it does not draw the viewer to it. He used the three parables to make each of these points.

Are you ready for Olive's stories?

ps. You think the Red is the murderer. I'm going to remember that. Carolyn, you are not alone!

Oh yes Joan, I meant to say that I wasn't the one to post the map. Sorry. Hope whoever did shows up.

Yes, speaking for myself I'm as ready as I'll ever be for Butterfly's stories. Let 'em rip!

Cathie, in Texas , 80 today

Oh, and one more thing- do we know where the body of the victim was found? I noticed in the reading today that there is a well on the property of Shekure and her father. Does this mean anything, or would they ALL have wells. Where was he found?

I'll let Joan P look for the murderer. She is much better than I am at putting clues together and besides, I think the most interesting thing about the book so far is the different theories of art. The old school suggests that all trees be ideal trees and that all trees will therefore, if drawn and painted according to form, be the same.

But the new movement from the East and perhaps from the Franks as well is that individuals can be painted so that if you were to look at a painting of a particular woman, and later you were to see her in the park, you would immediately know who she was. The new ideas eventually won out, especially in the West. I don't know about Turkey.

As for the plot, there really isn't much of one yet. There's the murder of Elegant Enfendi and there's the love story. And then, as Scootz points out, there are many many little side stories that the various characters tell.

So far though I am just absorbed in these ideas about how to paint and whether all clouds and trees should look alike (resembling the Platonic idea of a tree?) or whether things should look as close as possible to how they are. If you are a bent tree, the painter should not paint you straight.

In Chapter 11 (one of Black's chapters), there's some really interesting stuff about whether illustrations have to be part of a story or whether they can stand on their own and be admired even if the viewer has no idea what story they are from.

"A few great masters who hadn't abandoned illustrating were making and selling individual pieces, which weren't part of any story at all. By examining such single leaves, you couldn't tell which scene or which story it represented; rather, you would admire it for its own sake, for the pleasure of beholding alone." (55)

I read Chap 11 today while my students were taking a quiz and underlined these sentences. Then I thought about them and realized that at about the same time Holbein was painting absolutely realistic portraits of people like Henry VIII of England.

What different ideas about art in the East and West!

Maryal

We get into the heavy stuff in these chapters. This kind of writing reminds me of the philosophical parts of Tolstoy's War and Peace, or Eco's Name of the Rose. Some readers pass over it quickly to get back to the action. Others find it meaningful, and I admire what's been done with it in this discussion. It is after all the talk of distinguished artists, and the subject matter is the finer points of a painter's creative work.

If these three, Butterfly, Stork and Olive, are both evasive and effusive, it's because they know they are all being put to the test. One, almost certainly, is the murderer, but all know only too well what old Master Osman has in mind with his three questions. Do his 'pupils' still adhere to the principles and standards drilled into them in their early years? Or are they inclined to transgress into originality, individuality, and a purely human perspective?

Much talk of Allah's time, and Allah's blackness, but for some this could only mean preserving the old ways and resisting the new, the everlasting authority of the master, and not as the master would have it, keeping the faith. We must come back to this again.

HATS, sorry about the 'red' herring; I couldn't resist. And I agree the quotes at the beginning of the chapter are significant. Such things always are, so far as I have seen. Otherwise, what would be the point in putting them there?

JOAN, I appreciate any light you can throw on those parables, tho' I must confess I still don't see how one could arrive at the 'morals' from the parables. I did find Jonathan's remark very helpful, about the miniaturists understanding exactly what Master Osman intended with his three questions. Thank you, JONATHAN. I hadn't understood that until you pointed it out.

DEEMS, your definition re.'minium' was an eye-opener for me,too, but it did describe the work as "small, finely wrought". Maybe their extensive use of the red (which we could all see in the links) in painting their small works is why the English derivation of 'miniatures' came to mean the small art objects, rather than the color.

I'm lagging behind. Just got to "I am Red" and haven't read it yet. I've got to catch up so I'll know what you are all talking about.

Babi

Poor editing, Scootz.

Jonathon - maybe the author insisted on parts of the novel being untouched or does it maybe lose something in translation? We keep forgetting this is a novel translated into English is it not? I can remember Cenk saying that to translate from English into Turkish is very hard and vice versa.

Carolyn

Well, JONATHAN, I guess we can't blame Pamuk if he wants to introduce his readers to some favorite Turkish/Persian legends, books, and cultural traditions. So long as he doesn't carry it so far we get totally lost!

Babi

Thunderstorms here yesterday, and up in the big city today, so 47 posts awaited me.

Yes, Jonathan, this is a difficult read. There's a lot going on in the book, and a lot that is being gathered from without (thank goodness for that.)

Deems, I will be forever grateful to your definition of miniaturist. From the red, oh it makes sense. I was so baffled when I saw that huge picture in back of the current day miniaturist, and all I could think of was that someone in the book talked of drawing a tree on a grain of rice. Confusion reigned, but is slowly making sense.

And, thank you Deems? for the other article about the subject matter. I had no idea that the Middle Eastern miniaturists portrayed Christian subjects from the Bible. How interesting about Joseph and his brothers being so popular.

Today in the big city I went to a spice shop to buy some of the spices we talked about in Pomegranate Soup, like tumeric (also good for your mind) and cardamon, and others, so I can finally make the soup and quit talking about it. Also came home with "zatar" a Middle Eastern blend used as a table condiment. It was suggested to sprinkle this and olive oil on pita, and bake them.

JoanP, I think it was Traude who posted the link to the maps. We're getting a lot of good links. Perhaps we need a link page. PatW, I can work on that -- can go back and retrieve links, and get them formatted, if you can get the page up.

Miniatures are manuscript illustrations. Deems posted this:

"miniature painting

also called (16th–17th century) Limning, small, finely wrought portrait executed on vellum, prepared card, copper, or ivory. The name is derived from the minium, or red lead, used by the medieval illuminators. Arising from a fusion of the separate traditions of the illuminated manuscript and the medal, miniature painting flourished from the beginning of the 16th century down to the mid-19th century."

And some commented upon "small, finely wrought portrait," however, this is about miniature paintings a later European tradition, not about miniatures, which don't have to be portraits at all.

The word also means, in its modern sense, "miniature painting" due to the often small size of manuscript illustrations.

The word in the context of the book simply means "manuscript illustrations." A miniaturist is a "manuscript illustrator."

I didn't realize the name came from the lead used to color red paint, giving even more meaning to the title:

miniature

1586 (n.) "a reduced image," from It. miniatura "manuscript illumination or small picture," from pp. of miniare "to illuminate a manuscript," from L. miniare "to paint red," from minium "red lead," used in ancient times to make red ink. Extended sense of "small" (adj.) is first attested 1714, because pictures in medieval manuscripts were small, infl. by L. min-, root expressing smallness (minor, minimus, minutus, etc.).

Etymology of "miniature"

This also gives significance to the repeated comments about scarlet, and the fact that the title in Turkish is about scarlet red, the newer red, not the traditional lead paint red. I knew it was newer, but know only some about dye plants, not traditional metals ground for pigments.

Kleo

"Can you describe Turkish coffee? How does it compare to...well, to Starbucks? I'm imagining a much more potent brew, maybe even syrupy texture." Joan P

Well, Starbucks offers the great convenience of being able to get espresso anywhere. However, they're not the first name in coffee. I suggest folks try to find a place to drink Turkish coffee (or Greek or Armenian).

First off, it's a preparation method, like steaming or percolating or drip. However, because the Turks love coffee, they tend to use premium coffees to prepare the drink.

It's usually a dark roasted bean, and older Turks pulverize the beans in a large mortar with a pestle. Next time you're at the supermarket notice that the grinds available are perk/drip, whatever, to a finer ground for espresso, then the finest grind of all (powdered): Turkish.

The coffee is cooked on a stove in a small copper pot, cold water, then coffee powder and sugar are added, then stirred. It's not stirred again. I think it is just brought to a boil, over low heat, then poured. It's foamy on top, like a latte. I've been served it without sugar in a Turkish home once, but usually in a restaurant they ask if you want it sweet, and you should say, "very sweet" even if this is not your usual preference. You don't finish the tiny cup, the dredges are left. Also don't stir your coffee.

It is usually served in small espresso cups today, although these are much more beautiful:

Coffee Cup Holder

"This seems to be (at least at this point) an unnecessarily difficult read. An awful lot going on all over the place." Scootz

"Poor editing, Scootz." Jonathan

Oh, I disagree. I think part of it may be the language. Some of the constructs feel like poorly translated Russian. I wonder if Turkish is a case language?

I think that focusing on the book like it's a murder mystery I have to solve is making it harder for me to read. I'm just going to enjoy it.

Kleo

Jonathan, I am using the hard bound good edition, but will let you go on with it.

Allamae and Kleo and others, thank you for the "crimson."

I am new to this site (I am on the Greek site) so I didn't know you had read "Pomegranate Soup" which I coincidentally read before attempting Pamuk. Whay do you both mean by "the big city"? I love New York, and Manhattan especially, and I love buildings also, and bridges, and concrete under my feet. These things are "ups" for me and always were. When I travel I go to cities.

I liked Pomegranate Soup very much but found it a little too florid, and the same can be said for this Pamuk book.

Well, this post does wander all over the place, but is a response to many of yours.

Hi to the participants who have written so much while I was away,

I returned last night and have manged to read 100 posts when my vision and my mind blurred. Took a break and decided to write my thoughts up till now. I will catch up with the posts as time goes by. I did do the reading (Up to Chapt. 18) and felt very confused and isolated reading this material without your input. So, please be patient with me as I express my first thoughts aloud to you.If, by chance, I repeat something someone else has already said , accept my apologies and be aware of "two minds with but a single thought."

My first impressions were about the dog. This part brought to mind a book by S.Y.Agnon (Hebrew Writer-Nobel Prize 1966)who wrote much about the world through the eyes of a mutt named Black which is the Hebrew word for Dog spelled backward. Both Islam and Judaism had laws about "Graven Images" and those rioting over the Danish Cartoons bring that idea to mind on a daily basis.

The next impression was about the man who is called Black (Chapters 2, 7, 11) who it seems to me is the main protagonist of the novel. It is he who has been to Venice and been influenced by the "Franks". So it is also he who in chapt. 17 "I Am Your Beloved Uncle" who says ""Longingly, I dreamed of finishing my book in secret and returning to Venice". A man torn between different cultures an different approaches to Art and to Life itself.

The strongest impression of all is the reasoning that blindness is "seen" as a reward for following the rules and serving Allah. Page 80: "Blindness wasn't a scourge , but rather the crowning reward bestowed by Allah upon the illuminator who had devoted an entire life to his glories" And on page 81 :"Blindness is a realm of bliss from which the Devil and Guilt are barred.".

I wonderwhat others made of this idea? Do any of you see it as a main theme? Is Blindness symbolic for a closed mind? (See Saramagos Novel "Blindness" also a Nobel Prize winer).

Again,glad to be back and loooking forward to the next weeks of discussion!

Judy

someone asked about wells. In Turkey people used to have wells in their properties. My husband tells me that they had three of them. One had a brackish taste and was used only for the washing and watering of plants. The middle one was particularly tasty and neighbors were coming to "borrow" some water when they had someone sick in their house.

I have a Turk cousin who read the book in the original while her husband read it in English. They compared notes and she said the translation was very good. I wouldn't know!

I am enjoying the posts so much. I think these posts would make a good Reader's Guide in the back of "My Name is Red." After Each day of posts I want to reread the beginning of the book again. I believe Joan is right. This book is a "keeper." Long after the discussion I can return to the pages again and again.

Deems I like trying to pick up the views of the art world at that time too. In one of the parables or one of the chapters perspective and the horizon line is discussed. It was very interesting to read. I will have to find the chapter.

Jonathan, I am seeing more and more books. Definitely more than three books.

Pedln, I can't wait to hear how your Iranian dish will taste.

Sue426, I am glad you have read "Pomegranate Soup" too. I loved the whole book. Marsha Mehran,the author, and Persian, one of the Seniornetters just added to the wonder of the book. I hope you had a chance to read their comments.

Jonathan, your chapter highlights and thoughts are very helpful. This is all so much fun.

Bubble, thank you for sharing information about the wells in Turkey.

I think this is about perspective in Turkish art.

"Long ago, as is common knowledge, the illustrators of our Islamic realm, including, for example, the old Arab master, perceiving the world the way Frankish infidels do today, would regard everything and depict it from the level of a vagabond, mutt or clerk at work in his shop. Unaware of today's perspectival techniques, of which the Frankish masters haughtily boast, their world remained dull and limited, restricted to the simple perspective of the mutt or the shop clerk..."

I remember wanting to learn to paint. I would buy the Walter Foster books from Michaels and other hobby stores. I also remember seeing sketches of railroad tracks, trees or streets growing smaller as the distance grew farther away. The word "perspective" literally scared me to death. I never succeeded at drawing or painting perspective. All I have is a familiarity with the word. This is why the passage about perspective in "My Name is Red" stood out to me.

Carolyn,

I have trouble with concentration too. I understand.

Bubble- I appreciate the response inre wells. I thought as much, so guess there's no significance to a well on Shekure's land. Alos, ver interesting about your cousin and good to know the translation is so well done. One never knows.

Deems- I appreciate any posts inre the art. Certainly seems to be a major theme here- sight/blindness/flaws/ representation/darkness, etc. Anything helps to figure it all out. I'm not clear on it, that's for sure.

Judy- I don't think blindness is symbolic of a closed mind, but rather seems to intensify one's purity of thought, art. Am I way off base here?

Sue- what do you mean by "too florid"?

Kleo- that coffee cup holder is fabulous. So ornate, intricate. I'd love to taste Turkish coffee, but have no idea where to find it. I'm wondering if our store World Bazaar would have it? I do imagine it to be strong. Thanks also for the further info re "miniatures".

Scootz,

I had forgotten to ask that question. What does "too florid" mean?"

I continue to think of blindness too. I don't doubt that some of the artists might have become blind working in harsh contitions: working by candlelight, looking closely at their work would have strained their eyes and working for long periods. After some loss their sight, their payment for services rendered is the thought that now they are closer to Allah, able to see what others can not see, obtaining spiritual sight.

I also have no trouble thinking that blindness is not to be taken literally. It's interesting.

This is one of the quotes I find interesting.

"They accepted the work, the endless drawing and staring at pages by candlelight for days without break, as the pleasurable labor that delivered the miniaturist to blindness. Throughout his whole life, the master miniaturist Mirek constantly sought out the most appropriate moment for this most glorious of approaching eventualities, either by purposely hurrying blindness through the painstaking depiction of trees and all their leaves on fingernails, grains of rice and even on strands of hair ...."

To even think, that this is about literal blindness, might mean I am a naive reader(sad face).

" The Ottoman artist's narrative intent comes in here when he describes the story in the minutest detail and dresses his figures in sixteenth century Ottoman garments as if the theme was a local event."

I read this quote in the link about minatures given by Deems. I think it's interesting because in our Bible stories the artists try to draw and paint the clothing in the way the people might have dressed during Biblical times.

The Turkish dressed Noah and other religious characters in Turkish costume.

Holy smokes, take one day off and you all have blown me away with your posts.

Deems- You are the best! What a coup for you to find such a sight for us. I was impressed (not an easy feat.) The Miniature paintings that I looked at were so huge, I kept thinking how in the world can these master pieces be called miniatures? At last the light dawns and understanding is reached. Minium= red lead. Who would have guessed? (Maybe Babi)
That clarifies my confusion and I thank you for that. I loved looking at the artists rendition of the prophets and the biblical figures. I have never read anywhere that Adam and Eve had 13 twins, nor that the argument between the brothers was due to a beautiful woman. I loved the picture of Noah's Ark being done in the guise of a 16th century Ottoman ship.

Kleo- what a beautiful coffee cup holder. I love good coffee; strong, aromatic and hot. I fear if I were in possession this "holder" I would spill hot coffee all over me as I drooled over its beauty.

Joan- thanks for the succinct outline, it helps me. I can see clearer now....

"I hope you will continue to share your memories about your trip to Turkey. I love the description of the scarves around the waist." (Hats)

Hats, the scarves were one of my favorites too, those and also the men with the pushcarts much like our hot dog and pretzel stands in NYC and Philly but with whole ears of corn which has been barbequed on a stick. The folks, and we also, would walk down the street chewing on these corn ears on a stick like we do in the states with the foods from our vendors! As far as sharing more of my memories...I think I've shared enough for now, but thanks!

"Alliemae, I'm wondering if those beautiful scarves came from Esther? You cried when it was time to leave - how hard it must have been for your husband! He did come with you? Did he have a hard time adjusting to western life?" Joan Pearson

Essentially, without getting into my own personal opinions of my life and experiences...My husband had an easier time adjusting to western life than I do so far, and I was born and raised here!! Oh, and I wouldn't be surprised if the selling of these scarves was not passed down from Esther!

"Allimae brings up an important point Istanbul is not all of Turkey today. I would like to know does Turkey still actually BAN the wearing of headscarves in public schools? Turkey is not so much about separation of religion and state as about an attempt to secularize their society completely." KleoP

Kleo, as much as I'd like to attempt to answer your questions I'm sure there is someone in this discussion who can do a much more accurate job of it than I ever could. But thank you for asking.

"Alliemae- don't worry at all about generalizing anything. I find your posts informative and very interesting. I wish that you would tell us more of your first hand experience, including the tea picking seasons and the socio-economic dispair."

"You said:"We had an enormous amount of freedom and yes, did see many of the wealthier and better educated Turkish women." That surprises me! How did they allow you so much frredom there? Even if it were in an American Institute setting you were still a guest in their country. Are you still married to this Turkish gentleman? I'm also interested, Alliemae in how true to life this story is for you, even though it was written in a time setting much different from yours?" (ALF)

As guests in their country we had, first of all, been instructed as to customs and what to do and what not to do, both before we left the States and again after we had arrived in Istanbul, especially how not to offend our host country.

We also lived in the dorms of the Bosforus University and had living with us two house-dads, and two house-moms (as we called them, even though they were the same age as many of the students and much younger than this old hen, studying at the age of 50+!!)) who did strongly suggest we do our after-dark travelling in their company and who in fact arranged many lovely dinners and other evening outings for and with us.

We were also advised, especially the women, to not go out alone. They even suggested how to dress so as not to offend our host citizens. Admitedly, some of our undergrad students as well as many Turkish youths were dressed in a western manner...bikinis, short shorts, halter tops...but it was not encouraged by much of the population.

Keep in mind, we were not there as tourists but as students who wanted to learn not only the language but the culture as well, and as modern as some parts of the culture are, there are so very many levels of culture even within the great and bustling city of Istanbul, let alone the rest of the country. It was the admitted responsiblity of our dorm advisors to see that we had and benefited from that experience.

I think I've responded to most of the questions. I prefer not to discuss anything more personal in discussion and I know you'll all understand.

As for the time being, as I said yesterday...I'm way behind in my reading so will have to catch up.

I seem to get lost in the music and rhythm of Pamuk's writing and find myself, as others have expressed, going back over and over again to certain pages and paragraphs.

ALF, as much as I would love to discuss my personal experiences and especially the 'socio-economic despair' of some sectors of Turkey I must admit I'm not an expert and also, I'm having such a hard time keeping up with the book it's taking all the tolerance I have for sitting still and reading or being at the computer...and I'm also reading 'Founding Mothers'...I think you get what I mean.

As to comparing Turkey now with an earlier century, ALF, I don't think I could do that very well.

I want to thank all of you who have expressed an interest in my personal experiences in Turkey. It was one of the most precious and unforgetable times of my life.

Alliemae

Jonathan, an interesting take on Black -- disinterested. I keep thinking of him as the "straight man" or the man in the middle. He mixes with the other characters, mainly to bring them out and to get their stories. JudyS says he is the protagonist. I don't know, there are others here who know better than I that role. Black is in the middle of the action, but I don't think he is causing it --yet.

Judy, I agree with you, that blindness could be a symbol. This book must be loaded with them (symbols.) And Hats has mentioned another one -- perspective. No doubt time will tell about them and other potentional symbols. Certainly RED, in some shape or form.

Pat has so kindly added a links page to the heading where you will find the great links that you all have provided. It's not quite up to date, but it will be soon, as time permits. Thank you, Pat.

House guest coming today for part of the week

When Ataturk westernized Turkey he banned head covering. I don't know how long a ban lasted but by the time I got there many of the women did wear scarves...many women, especially the young, absolutely would not.

However, I found this very interesting: many, many of the educated young women were fighting for their right to keep their heads covered as a matter of choice and not just for the sake of tradition. They were well-educated Moslems and they chose to cover their heads.

Please keep in mind that this is simply something I was introduced to by my colleagues both Turkish and international and that I in no way mean to be generalizing on this personal experience.

Alliemae

Pedln, I have been thinking and I can "see clearly now too." I think the blindness is a spiritual blindness, not literal blindness. I am a slow poke turtle.

I feel sort of foolish about thinking of blindness in a literal fashion.

Alliemae, your posts are really interesting. I find it hard to believe that the women would want to have their heads covered.

'As I was knocking on the door, mirth took hold of me and I began to shout.'

Why mirth, of all things?

Esther has, as she tells us, just 'passed through side streets and through ominous alleyways that were frozen, muddy and nearly impassable.'

In front of her is a house 'dark and melancholy'. Inside, she knows, it will only get more dismal.

'The door opened, I entered. As always the house smelled of bedding, sleep, frying oil and humidity, that terrible smell peculiar to aging bachelors.'

But mirth does take hold of Esther, and there is a hearty laugh in it for the reader, as well as anyone on the street.

Using her best pitch, she shouts her wonderful wares: muslin fit for a sultan, stunning shawls from Kashmir, velvet sash cloth from Bursa, silk-edged shirt cloth from Egypt, embroidered muslin tablecloths and colorful handkerchiefs.

Just what the two bachelors in the house are waiting for!

All Esther gets for her mirth is,

'Old hag, why are you shouting?'

Just a very small part of Esther's monologue in Chapter 15. Sholom Aleichem didn't write anything better than this.

But Hasan does grab the letter she holds out, the one meant for Shekure. It turns out Black plagiarizes the poets to write his love letters!

- for your honest responses and direct comments.
I got caught up in all of your wonderful posts and fear I may have infringed on your privacy and personal thoughts. I apologize for that.

I agree, Hats, that blindness may be both literal and figurative. Some of these artists live to advanced age and what with the precise nature of their art, they would gradually become blind from cataracts as well as other eye disease, glaucoma perhaps. And there are also those elderly artists who are referred to as half blind and near blind and I think we can take those literally as well. But there's certainly a figurative blindness being recommended here as well. Did you all notice that (I think it's in the Tree chapter) pages are being transported from place to place to have different experts add their special contribution and one man is found to do the leafwork borders--he is blind (literally) but his hand has drawn leaves so many times that body memory allows him to continue this work.

Ever the skeptic, I asked my daughter about the blind man drawing the leaves. She said, Of course he could; the hand learns through repetition to create. Vision is not necessary.

oh, I replied, humbly.

Andy--Welcome back. I'm still not up to wherever we are supposed to be and have little time in the next couple of days to read--drat.

Scootz--Good to know that you are interested in all the art talk too because there certainly is a lot of it in the book.

Maryal

Deems, your daughter's answer humbles me too and leaves me in awe.

Scootz, the Turkish coffee is available at your local grocery store if you want to make it yourself. It is a cooking technique, not a special type of coffee, although Turks generally select very high quality coffees. Just get dark roasted beans and grind them to a powder at the grocery store, the setting finer than espresso. Then find a Turkish coffee directions-guide on-line and make your own.

Literal or figurative blindness? I think it is literal blindness they are attaining! Part of the literal blindness is their failure to see the limits of the spiritual blindness they have attained and the irony of attaining it. But it's also spiritual blindness they are attaining for failing to see the beauty of the real world all along in the rigidness and fundamentalist interpretation of the world around them rendered more beautiful than God's creation, according to them.

I can't see any reason, although I'm still only on chapter 11, for assuming the blindness isn't literal. The question is the meaning of the figurative or spiritual blindness and whether it is attained or whether it is the vehicle for the literal blindness.

Alliemae, the headscarves question wasn't meant for you in particular, as this is a current event in Turkey, and I thought you were describing a student visit to Turkey in the 70s. Although your post raised the issue in my mind, all of my questions are for anyone who knows to answer if they can.

As to women wanting their heads covered at all?

I have an Indian friend who can't for the life of her understand how American women want cloth all over their bellies all of the time. "How does your skin breathe?" she asks me. She thinks it must be dreadfully unhealthy.

Women who grow up wearing headscarves, be they Muslims or Africans or Russians, are used to covering their heads. Just as most American women are used to covering their midriff.

I liked the mention of the "stunning shawls from Kashmir." They are still the norm. I went to a funeral a few weeks ago and all of the older women had "stunning shawls from Kashmir" that they use as lap blankets.

I think the prose is meant to mimic the lives of the players.

Kleo

Kleo, I would love to see the shawls from Kashmir. I bet those are quite beautiful.

Hats, look at that!

http://www.falconartgroup.com/KashmiriShawls.htm

http://www.victoriana.com/library/paisley/shawl.html

http://www.vintagetextile.com/new_page_235.htm

Bubble, thanks!! Oh my goodness! These shawls are gorgeous. The embroidery is "stunning."

No apologize needed here, ALF...please don't feel you've infringed on my privacy or personal thoughts.

I just don't feel comfortable enlarging on them in the midst of the book discussion...otherwise I'll talk the ears off anyone who will listen, believe me!! :^ )

Still trying to catch up on book as well...

Alliemae

Hats, I just saw this one (bad habit of working last to first on the posts I fear...).

To be honest, there have been many times after leaving my studies and entering 'the other world' that I have wished with all my heart that not only could I wear the head scarf but an Iranian chadoor just to isolate myself from the hustle and bustle of our cities here.

Of course, knowing that you don't have to wear the coverings in your own home unless you have male guests (relatives and friends of your own menfolk) makes 'taking the veil' easier for me to consider.

I wouldn't be doing it for religious reasons but for reasons of privacy and escape into my own world of peace and quiet.

They are (the chadoors) also GREAT fat hiders!! :^ )

Alliemae

Ruth wears a traditional headscarf in the winter to keep her ears and neck from the wind we get here. We do not get snow but we get very cold winds. I think she looks really feminine. I wanted a headscarf when Vanessa went back to Turkey but she brought me back a silk wrap which is very beautiful but I was disappointed as I had really wanted a headscarf. My daughters and DIls got the headscarfs and they were so lovely. We had a wind blowing so they wore them outdoors on Christmas evening while we had a barbeque dinner. The girls all looked delightful.

Carolyn

Alliemae,

I understand your feeling. The hustle and bustle can make us want a Chador and a scarf. It's a substitute for not being able to become invisibility.

Carolyn, I bet the girls did look cute in the scarves with the wind blowing.

Wonderful posts and precious links, thank you all.

ALLIEMAE, could you perhaps tell us what the Turkisch exclamations bismillahi and ala milleti Resulullah mean (pg 95) ?

The text contains remarkable pearls of wisdom, for example

"... you'll soon learn that only wealth, might, legendary romances stir people's curiosity. Everything else is but worry, separation, jealousy, loneliness, enmity, tears, gossip and never-ending poverty." (pg. 132)

Without meaning to give anything away prematurely, I do have a quick question: why does Red have to be a person ? After all, we've had a Horse and a Coin as "spokesmen".

Traude--given that we have dogs and trees talking, there's no reason whatsoever that I can see that Red has to be a person. But don't pay any attention to me; I'm only up to chapter 13.

Hi, Today I read another 75 posts and went to all the wonderful links on Paintings of Turkish Miniaturists and the Text surrounding those paintings. I came up with the following explanation when I put all those sites together;

Miniature is a rich visualisation style with bright colors without shadows. Subjects were usually taken from real life in Turkish Miniatures. This is the greatest difference between Turkish and other Miniatures.

The use of Geometric design used by Islamic painters is highly developed and can be seen in the mmagnificent designs in the Alhambra in Grenada, Spain.

Bhizads style is his identity. When someone steals your style he steals your identity. Jealousy and Anger are the reason for the Murder in this book.

If this book is truly a mystery we are not meant to know the identity of the Murderer at this point in the plot. The author wants to keep us guessing. False clues must be planted and red herrings strewn all about.

Again if I have repeated what someone else has said I apoligize. Eventually I will catch up on all the posts.

Again re the the secondary theme of Blindness....It seems to me that people who can convince themselves that being Blind is a gift from Allah have a very convaluted view of life.

Judy

Judy I have a daughter who has health issues. She said to me one day that her problems are a blessing because it has given her empathy for others which if her life had been easy she may never have developed. She is not resentful at all that all her life she has had illness more than good health. She is actually the most patient and non judgemental person I know. Everyone loves her. Just thought I would mention this when you were saying blindness as a blessing from Allah was convuluted thinking.

carolyn

No, it's not not getting a 'letter that could stir the heart.'

But what it really is puzzles me. She does seem to be in difficulties. And I'm as mystified by the workings of Shekure's heart and mind as I am by who murdered Elegant Effendi.

Traude, bismillahi means 'in the name of God'.

Millet is nation or people.

Resulullah, according to my Ottoman Turkish dictionary, refers to Muhamad, apostle and Prophet of God

Since this is during a funeral, I would venture a guess that the body was being lowered into the coffin commended to the name of God and that of possibly the Islamic Nation and/or of the nation originated by Prophet Mohamad at Allah's order.

In the opening words of Adhan, the Moslem call to prayer, Muhammadan Rasulullah will be heard again as, Mohamad is Allah's messenger.

This may not be as smooth a translation as a Moslem could give however.

When I receive letters from Turkey many of them start with the term 'bismallah' and often many Turkish people and families routinely use Bismallah before starting their meal.

I hope this is some help.

Alliemae

SUE, after looking at the miniatures, paintings, fabrics, coffehouses and mosques, I think that florid, riotous, vibrant and over-the-top, is the key to the Turkish/Persian character. Even their literature is full of romance, drama and tragedy. Think of say, Jane Austen, and see how very different the Western outlook is. I begin to feel that for the people of MNIR, life is always seen as LIFE!!

PEDLIN, on thinking about your post, I don't think the miniaturists were painting 'Christian' stories. The example in the book, of Joseph and his jealous brothers, was of course Old Testament, which Muslims consider as part of their heritage also. I could be wrong, of course. For all I know there are Turkish/Persian (T/P, for future convenience) miniatures out there on Christian subjects.

Well, I have now read though Ch. 18, and these last two chapters have given me 'furiously to think'. (With deference to Msr. Poirot.) "I am Your Beloved Uncle" clarifies the reason for Master Osman's disgruntlement with Black's Uncle Enishte. Master Osman is of the old school and is not happy with innovations. The Sultan, however, wants a book in the new style, so he bypasses his own workshop staff and gives the job to Enishte Effendi.

Then, we see Butterfly approaching Enishte on the way to the cemetery, He accuses Olive and Stork of the murder, claiming that they wanted the blame to fall on Butterfly, out of jealousy. Enishte is convinced one of the three miniaturists is responsible, and he suddenly decides to bring pressure to bear. He informs Butterfly that he is not continuing with the book, and asks him to inform Olive and Stork.

In Ch. 18, the Murderer is again speaking. We find that each of the miniaturists had regular days on which to confer with Enishte. The deceased Elegant saw him on Wednesday. Olive saw him on Tuesday; Stork on Friday, and Butterfly on Sunday. I'm making a note of these because I think this may be important down the road.

The Murderer's narrative is taking place throughout the funeral and burial. Then, he says a very revealing thing: "I was not at all bothered by Enishte's decision to stop working on his - our - book."

Pamuk may be blindsiding us, but there is no indication here that Butterfly has yet talked with Stork and Olive. Stork and Olive are presumably far ahead with the crowd going to the cemetery. In other words, at this point only Butterfly knows of Enishte's decision. Unless Pamuk later tells us he did speak with the other two, then Butterfly is Murderer.

As Murderer continues to speak, there is evidence of a rapid moral degeneration. He says he has become a different person. Before committing this act he feared the Devil and any slightest hint of evil in himself. Now he not only feels that evil can be endured, he considers it indispensable to an artist!

I think we are fairly forewarned. I will be surprised if Murderer does not repeat his act.

Babi

ALLIEMAE, thank you for giving the English meaning for the Turkish words on pg. 95.

Sue's mention of "too florid" in post # 184 brought back old memories.

Some years before we came to this country, my first editor in Frankfurt told me that an articles of mine was a bit "too florid" - something I have never forgotten (and never repeated).

The next time I heard the word was in Washington, D.C. in the mid-fifties. It was a hot and humid day, typical for Washington in the middle of the summer. We had been in the country only for a few weeks. During lunch hour I went up to Jellef's on F Street at 14th and stopped at the cosmetics counter.
"Honey Child", exclaimed the saleslady, "you look too florid; we must do something about that!"
I have never worn makeup (still don't) and stepped away before she could apply light powder and then rouge.

Right there are the two meanings of "florid", the second literal(= too rosy, or ruddy), and the first one figurative . I have not read "Pomegranate Soup" and cannot speak for the book.
But I agree that the term can be applied also to some sections of our book. I'm impatiently reading ahead, but every so often I come to an incredibly elaborate, sumptuously embellished passage that causes me to put the book down, to reflect and try to digest.

I am sure I shall never keep up with all the characters in this book!

Just a couple of observations. As this book is a translation I wonder if the book reads with such rich language in the Turkish version. It would be good to hear from someone who has read both. Is the translator the author of this richness. I can't help wondering.

Secondly - I cannot help feeling that there are parts of this book that would offend some Muslims. My SIL to be does not swear. I am sure he never uses the F word - if the equivalent is used in the Turkish version I am sure he would be offended. Also he and the other Turkish men I have met so far would be offended by the references to homosexuality. I wonder how the average Turk regards this book.

So far I do not have a clue as to the identity of the murderer.

I have no idea how the Tree fits into this narrative yet - what it represents or even if it represents anything at all.

I presume the word Jinn means devil or evil spirit.

There are many tales woven into this unusual murder mystery and I am finding it hard to remember them all or even if I am supposed to remember them all!

This is certainly one of the most unusual books I have read so far in SN and it is quite daunting in its complexity of plot!

Carolyn

I had no inkling that my finding a style a bit too florid at times would raise questions. Practically a dictionary definition, and it comes from my being an English major all my life. "ornate to excess," but only at times. Oddly, a few months ago, I read Amos Oz's memoir A Tale of Love and Darkness, and commented to someone that it was a bit florid at times.

Sue I agree it is an "ornate " tale.

Carolyn

Sue426,

When you used the term "too florid," I didn't know, until reading your post again, that those two words were meant to describe two books, "Pomegranate Soup" and "My Name is Red." I became involved with your mention of "Pomegranate Soup."

I should have guessed the meaning of "too florid" but my mind shut down. Now that I know "ornate to excess" is the meaning I agree with you about "My Name is Red." I think this is why the book is enjoyable, for me. In this case, "too florid" means wildly ornate, over the top in excess. I am thinking this is the way the Turkish culture looked at that time. I am thinking of the coffeehouses,etc.

I ask about many definitions. I could not remember the definition of "convoluted." For example, I always need my dictionary close at hand.

Some of this I blame on too many senior moments.

I seemed to remember that we had a link to dictionary in SN. I can't think where that was. Now I have installed a Random House Webster's dict. on my desktop, so it is most easy for me to check a definition. Bubble

I was also wondering about this book and that style of writing. I also wonder if it has such 'florid' passages because it is a tale from the 16th century or if this is Pamuk's usual style of writing. Has anyone read other Pamuk books? Maybe something modern?

Jonathan, I think you mentioned that you have or are...

Alliemae

Speaking only for myself, I assumed that florid meant flowery, or something like. I still felt that asking the question was interesting to me because I wanted to hear the posters thoughts on this. Sure, I could have looked it up, but I wanted to hear her particular thoughts. Plus, I don't think I've ever heard a piece of writing referred to as florid before.

I think that Butterfly being the murderer seems way too obvious to me and I'm afraid we may be being sandbagged and it isn't one of the artists at all.At one point, I suspected Shukere. Time will tell. I also feel that in the grand scheme of things it's not going to be as important as the journey getting there, if you know what I mean.

I read where Pamuk has been compared to Ecco, Kafka, and Nabokov.

Jonathan- Shukere is a puzzle to me as well. Not sure what she's playing at with Black, or what her true desires are.

I suspected Shekure too. I began to underscore the word "red" and take note of the word "red" in any helpful way. This led me to think of Shekure. Wouldn't Shekure need to be a very strong woman in order to kill Elegant? I also see "red" whenever I see a post written by Babi.

Bubble,

I had the link to that online dictionary and misplaced the address.

___________________________________________________________________

I do have problems with Shekure. I don't really care for the way she treats the boys. It doesn't take much for her to slash out at the children with her hand or with her tongue. Since these are different times, maybe it's not fair to look at Shekure's way of childrearing.

I can't figure out whether she really cares about Black either.

Going back through the posts because I had missed the coffee holder. Kleo, it is very beautiful.

Scootz, I also took florid to mean flowery and also embellished.

I read an Ecco in a book discussion here recently and had a similar experience with his writing (as with Pamuk's). I was nearly hypnotized by it but it was also very confusing to me (the plot he was trying to get across) and had to read some of it over and over...but the parts I liked, I loved...just that style of writing I guess that means something to me because of rhythm and mood, even tho I'm not always able to retain all the facts.

Traude, re: "why does Red have to be a person ?"

...I didn't get that 'Red' was a person when I read that chapter. I did feel that it was quite a significant chapter though and I want to go back and read it again to see why I thought that way. I had read it in isolation from the preceding chapters and now want to re-read it in context.

Alliemae

I haven't gotten that far yet. Thank goodness I didn't miss a chapter. I think some of you are further along than me. I am a little pass the "coin" chapter.

Traude's question about the color "red" definitely made me take notice.

About "I am Red" I thought that red was not a person but part of miniatures. Just like the tree tells a story,, the dog does too, so maybe the color red is also telling us about its importance inside this tale...

The "florid style" is probably an Eastern characteristic. I find that Arab tales or Middle East legends and jokes are much more detailed, seem more "exaggerated" than what we are used to in the West. It has a special charm of course if one has the patience to follow along.

I too find myself rereading passages, wondering if I saw everything there was in them, or if I had really understood their meaning. I do not try to guess about the murderer yet.

Shekure seems manipulative. Now to continue reading for the second week. Bubble

I got the impression that "red" was the ink in the chapter of the same name.

I found the chapter where Eshente explains about the formulating of the book to be mostr helpful for putting things in order. We read a lot of pages before we were rewarded with it! lol

Scroll down to the fourth group of coins to see the gold Sultani described in the chapter about coins. I found these chapters about objects to be most enlightening about Turkish customs.

http://www.kultur.gov.tr/EN/BelgeGoster.aspx?17A16AE30572D313A79D6F5E6C1B43FFD8239D8509A1CEE4

Yes, I believe Pamuk can indeed be compared with Umberto Eco ("The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana").

And yes, "florid" , derived from "flora" (as in flora and fauna), means flowery, in both the literal and in the figurative sense, as I said earlier.

CAROLYN, a translator must be faithful to the original text and cannot add, omit, or edit it in any way. This is the cardinal rule. That does not mean, however, that all translators do a good job; I've seen some poor translations with awkward formulations. Since this is my own field of expertise, I pay close attention.

Turkish is not one of the languages I speak but I sincerely believe that Erdaq Goknar, a visiting assistant professor of Turkish language and culture at Duke University, has done a first-rate job - and not alone, for on the page following the title page is this acknowledgement

The translator would like to thank fellow translator and friend Profssor Walter G. Andrews for his incisive comments and suggestions on the manuscript. - E.M.G.

I am convinced, therefore, that all embellishments are Pamuk's and not the translator's doing.

Pamuk is a great story teller and intent on telling us this story in all its ramifications including the historical and artistic background. All whose voices are heard in the various chapters address the reader directly. Just reread the first long paragraph on page 33 in Black's voice.

Painting and happiness. I would like my dear readers who have given close attention to my story and my fate to bear these two things in mind, as they are the genesis of my world. ...

In this paragraph we learn that Black lived in the house of Enishte Effendi, his uncle, contentedly among books, calligraphy brushes and painting - until he fell in love with his cousin Shekure. Upon confessng his love, he "was banished from Paradise". Shekure was 12 at the time.

When the story opens, Black has just returned from his "amorous exile" of twelve years. Shekure is now 24 years old, married, with two boys, and a husband who has not returned from the Safavid war. Rejecting the unwanted attentions of her brother-in-law, she and the children have returned to her father's house.

He, the Enishte Effendi and Black's uncle, has almost completed a secret book project for the Sultan to commemorate the thousandth anniversary of the Hegira and needs Black's help for the final touch. Other miniaturists were employed by Enishte Effendi to do the work in their own homes at night rather than in the workshop, because of the secret nature of the project, and remunerated by Enishte Effendi. The old-school Master Osman regards the incipient attempts to adopt Western concepts as blasphemous and views the Enishte Effendi (who was exposed to these influences when he was Turkish ambassador to the Republic of Venice) with some suspicion.

This conflict, I believe, is the main thread of the story. The events take place within days , and I have the feeling that we are not going to find out who the murderer is until the very end.

Shekure, not a totally sympathetic figure, sends out mixed signals and maintains a secret correspondence with BIL Hasan. She alternately scolds the boys and presses them to her abundant bosom. True, CAROLYN, some passages in the book are a bit eyebrow-raising in their intense physicality.

Florid or representative? By contemporary western standards, the writing here is certainly ornate, florid if you prefer.

Pure speculation here, but I'm guessing that this is a faithful translation and that the decoration is in the original. It also seems that the ornate writing complements the ornate miniatures and stories that we are being given. Many of the same words and phrases occur in different stories, indicating also a love of repetition.

Since Hemingway, at least in the U.S., the predominant style of writing has been far simpler and less adjectivey than we see here. There are exeptions--Cormac McCarthy, for one, follows Faulkner sometimes and sometimes Hemingway.

Anyway, I think the adornment of language here is Persian/Mideastern and indicates a commitment to decoration that is also seen in the paintings that are described as well as the stories within stories.

The legendary tales that are repeatedly illustrated with as little deviation from the old masters as possible are also part of this dedication to the ornate. As well as a love of repetition. Which you can find a great deal of if you read the Hebrew Bible in a good translation. Repetition was part of the way stories were told. Example--this from the story of Jael putting a tent peg through the temple of Sisera:

She hammered Sisera,
she crushed his head,
she pierced his temple and shattered it.
Between her feet, he crumpled,
he fell, he lay;
at her feet, he crumpled, he fell.
Where he crumpled,
there he fell, destroyed.

Judges 5:26-27 (NJB)

Look at that passage for repetition. How many times and in how many ways can you say that Sisera fell to the ground?

DEEMS, our posts were penned at the same time.
I fully agree with you.

But nonfiction writing can also be "adjectivey" (very good word !!), IMHO for example Durant in the "Story of Civilization". The painstaking, loving array of often alliterative adjectives is sometimes too rich (or de trop, as the French more delicately say) for me. I hope to be forgiven if this statement is heretical.

Such wonderful posts!
I do agree with you, Hats, "I also wonder if it has such 'florid' passages because it is a tale from the 16th century." I think too that this is the reason Carolyn feels that modern day Muslims would be offended. (they are!) - the swearing and the homosexuality.

This is another age we are reading about, not just another culture. It seems that men (and women?) fall in love with beauty. I'm not seeing any love in this story, are you? Love as we understand it. Not even in Black's feelings towards Shekure. He is back because of her beauty. When he left he was in his twenties and she was twelve. A beautiful 12 year old, yes, but what he felt for her was not love in my book.

The "homosexuality" also seems to be an attraction to young boys who are beautiful.

I agree with those of you who say that Butterfly is just too obvious a murderer. He's a liar and also self-centered. Nevertheless he sounds just like the Murderer in his chapter - referring to Elegant as an oaf and stupid idiot. The murderer's words echo Butterfly's when he brags about his superiority to the others. .

I think it's clear from his words that he, the murderer is one of the three miniaturists - Butterfly, Stork and Olive. I don't think Shekure would be strong enough, unless she had help. From Elegant's last words, it sounds we heard him was having an argument with ONE of the miniaturist about the blasphemy in the work they were doing for the Sultan. I thought it was interesting when the murderer issues this challenge to us - "Try to discover who I am through the color of my words." (Not through his painting. It's important then to listen to the words of the three suspects.

Since Butterfly is a liar, it is hard to believe anything he says. I did read very closely the words, and the parables put forth by Olive and Stork ..

JoanP,

I think the murderer is one of the miniaturists too. You mentioned this long ago in the posts. I am just catching on. Does the miniaturists use more than a bit of red ink in his work? This quote caught my attention.

"It's a three-hundred-year-old Mongol inkpot," said Enishte Effendi...It's for red."

The inkpot is not for Red, an individual, but for ink. Which of the miniaturists Butterfly, Stork or Olive use red ink in their work? Is that a relevant question? If it's not, I am not surprised. I never can come to the right conclusions in a murder mystery. They are just fun to read.

During this period in time I am beginning to see that art and religion go hand in hand. An artist seeking a new and more stylish way to draw can shatter the beliefs of a Muslim.

I think the murderer must want to use or is using the Frankish art method. This would go against the Muslim art method, right? To make an exact image is idolatry.

"The observer has the impression not of a painting but of reality; to such a degree that this image has the power to entice men to bow down before it, as with icons in churches...According to him, this is the Devil's work."

There are so many details. I find myself becoming lost over and over again. I always remember Jonathan's warning about the "maze." The maze thought relieves me and makes me feel like I am experiencing just what I should experience, reading and reading and trying to find the right answer. All the time running into false clues.

I do want to go back to the header and read about Mr. Pamuk's bio again. Aren't these same issues causing him trouble today or recently?

See here the same Turkish gold coin that I received mounted on a chain as a wedding present.
Click on the coin to see it better.

http://usera.imagecave.com/sop_bubble/turkish_coin/

In the beginning all I cared about was art. Now I find myself really wanting to know whodunnit. So, one path, for me, have become two. I want to know about this century's art and I also want to know who murdered Elegant.

Bubble, the gold coin necklace is beautiful.

JoanP,

I am glad you included this point. I had forgotten it. Yes, I am surprised.

"The first parable about painting and time surprised me - Sotrk relates that "long ago Islamic illustrators saw the world the way Frankish illustrators do today." Did that impress you? The very Old Masters then depecited everything they saw, as they saw it!"

That fascinates me!

Traude--Yes, we were posting at the same time. I also agree with what you wrote (since we wrote very much the same thing in different words!) I don't think reacting to a style that you consider somewhat too carefully worked is heresy at all.

But then I've never been one to look for heresy.

I like differences of opinion and discussion. And different people prefer different styles.

I'm enjoying My Name Is Red because of all the commentary on art and war. Seems that there is always a war going on somewhere or other and illustration too. One destructive, the other creative (Yes, even those who are sticking to the old masters who don't seem very interested in deviating from them at all).

And Joan P.--Yes, it certainly seems that beauty and different ways of perceiving it are at the very center of the matters under discussion. I think there isn't anything much more beautiful in the world than young boys, say between six and ten. My son was absolutely gorgeous at that age as were many of his friends. Then they all went through puberty and ruined everything!

Beauty at the center.

And treachery and intrigue--though it's hard to care about Elegant in the well since we never knew him. Maybe I will come to care that he is dead.

Hats--I can't ever figure who dont it either. But I love mysteries. Go figure.

I'm still not all the way up to chap 18, but so far these miniaturists all seem to me to be rebelling in their own ways. Butterfly loves the joy of sex and art (sometimes at the same time) and Stork violates tradition by showing surprise in the Sovereign by having him, in one illustration, on his feet instead of the traditional way to emboy surprise which is to show "his index finger inseted into the circle of his mouth." Instead he wants the whole painting to embody surprise. He's a rebel.

Why does every other person in the present of this novel have "Effendi" as a last name? Or maybe it isn't a last name?

Still reading about Olive.

I agree about Shekure not being able to commit the deed. I said that for a moment I suspected her. Soon after, I did see a line from the murderer referring to HIMself.

Beautiful coin necklace, Bubble.

Is anyone else intrigued about this last page (of the book being constructed) that there seems to be so much ambiguity about?

Hats, I think it is safe to say that in learning about ART and its RULES (and the bending of these rules), we will also find the murderer. Was it you who asked about the meaning of the names Master Osman gave to the young apprentices back in their school days? We read that he gave Elegant his name because of "finess of gilding work." So if Ossman had a reason for Elegant's name - he must have had one for naming "Stork" - any ideas?

What do we know of Stork?

- he tried to convince Enishte that Elegant's work was inferior - "lack of balance- colored everything navy blue to look richer."

- he embraces Black warmly - they remain old childhood friends

- he answers Master Osman's questions about painting and time that Black puts to him without hesitation - - he makes a surprising comment about painting and time. - says that relates that "long ago Islamic illustrators saw the world the way Frankish illustrators do today." Did that impress you? The very Old Masters then depicted everything they saw, as they saw it!

The Three Parables Stork relates in answer to the question on time and painting:

ALIF This parable tells of the Mongol invasion and destruction of the books and paintings causing a Renaissance - art becomes distinguished from pagan and Christian Art. Stork tells that from then on the world is depicted by drawing a horizontal line. I have no idea what that means, do you? He also says that the moral of this story is - No matter how talented the artist, it is time that makes a picture perfect.

BA Not long ago, everything was imitated - same stories, same picture. The moral - "Only way to escape time is through skill and illustrating." (The skilled artist will live on forever.)
Djim - Stork asks Black the moral of the story about the 110 year old miniaturist (who dies when he is distracted from his work by the unimaginable beauty of a young apprentice and his desire to seduce him. He went blind - and died.) Black answers that this story unites A & B - "time ends for the one who forsakes a perfect life." (Painters beware!

Apparently Stork needed to keep busy, and while he was talking to Black began to paint. I'm not sure if it was significant that he had painted on of many paintings of the Sultan - in a standing position to show surprise. Is this deviation a "flaw"?

I see nothing of a murderer in Stork's stories - comparing his words to Butterfly's. But I do see everyone working on this secret book in great danger. Enishte tells us that the reason he had them come separately to his house is not secrecy, but rather concern at their competition with one another. He is certain that one of them is the murderer and doesn't want him in his house. Did you notice Butterfly's attraction to Shekure - "the most beautiful woman in the world?"

Enishte announces he will stop work on the book because of Elegant's murder. (He secetly plans to finish it himself.) Do the miniaturists believe him? Butterfly feels that Enishte will ask him work with him - because he is the best of the three.

Olive...Maryal, yesterday you read to Chapter 13 - - well in Olive's parables, the whole issue of blindness, memory and art are addressed. Susan was right no - I think she would love this book! Will leave comments on Olive to you. Will add only that I don't see him as the murderer either.

Deems, Effendi is a title of respect, it means "Sir". The title usually comes after the name of the person. Bubble

"I think this is why the book is enjoyable, for me. In this case, "too florid" means wildly ornate, over the top in excess. I am thinking this is the way the Turkish culture looked at that time. I am thinking of the coffeehouses,etc."

Scootz makes an interesting comment about wanting to know what others think of a word. I think this is one book where words have all the meaning in the world, like English.

Again, translators I spoke to say the translation is excellent. Yesterday while discussing the book at work my boss pointed out that Pamuk has taught in American universities and his English is excellent, probably the translation is so good because the author can check on it.

I think the prose of this particular book is meant to mimic what is going on. "Too florid" is precisely how I would characterize 16th century miniatures and their creators.

Each chapter, as I said before, is an illustration, an overly florid and gilded and embellished illustration of a page in someone's life.

I like this, when the style of prose reinforces the story line.

Kleo

Bubble--Thank you. I was beginning to suspect something like that. Thank you again.

Kleo--Thanks. I think it was your comment I read above that said this was a good translation. And it is also good to know that Pamuk has pretty good English since as you point out, he could comment on the translation. I think he was wise to have someone else do the translation for him though.

Translation is a unique skill. There are probably some authors who are also qualified in this realm, however most good writers probably know enough about writing to know how big their own field is (may be able to write fiction but not popular science) and appreciate that translation is a different craft.

Also, while translation and writing are both crafts, the former does not allow much opportunity for originality. They don't necessarily appeal to the same people, writing an original piece of fiction, and accurately rendering that originality in another language.

"The painstaking, loving array of often alliterative adjectives is sometimes too rich (or de trop, as the French more delicately say) for me. I hope to be forgiven if this statement is heretical."

I think it's just a matter of taste. These stories are also very Persian. Persians have an ancient history of story telling, dream recitals and the like. They are florid, embellished, over the top, unreasonable even. We had this complaint, unbelievably too much, about Kite Runner, also. As I said there, this is they style for much of the world. It's hard to appreciate if one has grown up with modern Western Literature and has not been much exposed to it.

"Is this deviation a 'flaw'?"

Well, it depends. Didn't we learn in the old school that all deviations are a flaw?

Sometimes a deviation is a good thing...progress. Sometimes an imperfection - and punishable. How are are "flaws" treated at this place and time?

I don't about a flaw being a good thing sometimes. I think flaws are merely human, we're not gods after all.

I think our modern times and culture (21st century America) are obsessed with flaws and imperfections, but only the superficial, and in the current fashion. It seems we're moving toward a society of exchangeable plastic surgery faces.

I was thinking about earlier comments male Turkish sensibilities and this book. I don't think that anyone but maybe the Queen of England can isolate herself successfully from hearing a curse word or crude remark every now and then. Maybe some rich people can be so choosey and refined that they eliminate anyone who might speak lowly from their presence--I doubt it, though. It doesn't seem possible in the modern world to be so sensitive as to cringe at vulgarities. And to eliminate all crude people from your literary reading would be to ban fiction, I think.

Kleo

JoanP,

My thoughts are running together. I thought a flaw in the painting or illustration meant some new detail had been added. Isn't this why in that first parable the lover stopped looking at his love in the book? She had another appearance. He stopped staring at his lady in the book, and became extremely jealous of his "real" love. Somehow, this led his lover to hang herself.

I think striving to paint "reality" in this period of history was very dangerous. Reality was thought of as a flaw.

Maybe I need to look up the story again. I might have it all twisted.

Here is a quote from Butterfly's story.

"The Khan and his beloved, considering these innovations-the personal stylistic touches of the master miniaturist-nothing but imperfections, were deeply disturbed by them."

"The Khan, understanding the mistake he'd made and realizing that the miniaturist's own fascination with style lay behind this terrible incident, immediately blinded this master artist whom the Devil had tempted."

The old method, used by the miniaturists, must have made the miniatures look flat and colorful. There would have been no perspective, no light or life in the eyes. Could you say just dolls on good paper or cloth?

Those striving for the new method must have been painting miniatures that would strike and look masterful in our eyes, the Westerner's eyes.

Finally finished through chap 18.

I have a question.

When does week 2 begin?

The last chapter I read was "I Will Be Called a Murderer" and I thought I could pick out some good clues by the whole nicknames by the days of the week pattern, but then whoever it is who will be called a murderer told me that when he spoke under his workshop name he would never admit to being a murderer. He also says he has two voices (so he's both this voice, that of the murderer and the other voice, who has a workshop name, of whom there seem to be only three). This is funny if you think about it because this is a book of many voices and now we have one individual who has two voices.

Since it's all I can do to follow the twistings and turnings of the parables about darkness and blindness and artistry, I very much doubt that I'll solve this mystery.

This voice (murderer) also says "Indeed, I believe that style, or for that matter, anything that serves to distinguish one artist from another, is a flaw--not individual character, as some arrogantly claim" (98)

So it looks like any deviation whatsoever that distinguishes one hand from another is a flaw.

And yet the murderer claims to be the best of the illuminators. If they are all exactly the same (no deviations) compared to an absolute old school standard, then how can any one of them say he is better than the others.

I think there's a good deal of circular reasoning going on here.

Was anyone except me surprised that Esther, gossip, letter-carrier and clothier, carried Black's letter directly to Hassan (the brother-in-law) so that he could read it?

Maryal

Maryal,

It shocked me. What kind of spy is Esther? Esther goes from Black to Hassan to Shekure and back around again. I could never choose spying as a profession. Someone would find me in an narrow street turning around and around because I would have forgotten where to go next. I give Esther an "A" for keeping all the details straight.

JoanP, yes, I did ask the meaning of the names.

I like how the characters in the story stop and start talking to the reading. At least, I think the characters are talking to me. Have I really lost it?

Deems, these are your words. You wrote what I tried to write in my above posts.

"This voice (murderer) also says "Indeed, I believe that style, or for that matter, anything that serves to distinguish one artist from another, is a flaw--not individual character, as some arrogantly claim" (98)

"So it looks like any deviation whatsoever that distinguishes one hand from another is a flaw."

Listed in the heading is the Times article about Orhan Pamuk. This interests me.

'His writing provides an antidote to those who see Turkey as caught in a war to the death between Islam and secularism, East and West. "That Turkey has two souls is not a sickness," he says. He does worry that a Turkey mesmerized by itself is becoming isolated from the world.'

'He is delighted that what many find new and experimental about his novels are often rediscoveries of traditional forms. His work is a rejection of an intellectual tradition that aspired to be Western by forgetting about the past. "If you try to repress memories, something always comes back," Pamuk says. "I'm what comes back".'

I think Mr. Pamuk is saying a country can not remain healthy without going into the future with the present and past going with it. The past and the present, the traditional and the nontraditional make a country whole and this will cause the country to have much to offer to the rest of the world.

Hats--Yes, Esther is quite something, isn't she? She takes both Black's letter and Hassan's letter to Shekure and then tries to get a sense of what Shekure is thinking. But Shekure is clever and doesn't trust her. At least I don't think she does.

Esther is a good name for her because she is Jewish and Queen Esther is a hero to the Jews.

Hats--I enjoyed the quote you put in from Pamuk. Apparently some critics of his work have seen post-modernism in his work and he's saying no, it's history that's been repressed that he brings with him. Maybe post-modernism is just history that has been suppressed re-entering literature again too.

Deems,

Everytime I see Esther's name, I think of the Esther in the Holy Book. Esther saved her people from genocide. The historical Esther is quite the heroine.

I cayght up on the posts and the readings so went to the web to investigate more about our Author. To my surprise I found that he, and 8 other Turkish writers, had been charged,by the Turkish Govt. with Public Denigration of Turkey. In an interview with a Swiss reporter Pamuk had mentioned the fact that Turkey had killed one million Armenians and 30,000 Kurds.

Since Pamuk is a well known and popular writer in Europe the EU brought pressure on Turkey to drop the charges against Pamuk. The other authors trials are meandering through the Turkish Courts. There is talk now(this month actually) of the possibility of changing some of the Turkish Laws in order to get approval status from the EU. The charges against Pamuk were not dropped completely until two months ago.

This is one interesting fact that I picked up that adds a further dimension to our writer. The other fact I picked up was that the Coffee House in the book is "illegal". The Religous leaders of the time put a "Fatwah" on the drinking of Coffee. The reasons are too complex to mention. However,the Sultan of that period became enamored of Coffee and removed the Fatwa against Coffee and Coffee houses.

Judy

Judy,

You found what I was looking for about the author. I had read it. Then, looked again and couldn't find the information. Didn't Mr. Pamuk also turn down a reward? Here it is from the Times article.

"For years I have been criticizing the state for putting authors in jail, for only trying to solve the Kurdish problem by force, and for its narrow-minded nationalism," says Pamuk of his refusal last December to accept the prestigious title of state artist. "I don't know why they tried to give me the prize."

At least they didn't blind him.

Very, very sad state of affairs.

I'm finding all of the posts about Pamuk very, very interesting. Thanks to all of you!

Alliemae

"I read where Pamuk has been compared to Eco, Kafka, and Nabokov."

SCOOTZ, I read this in your post and groaned. After two Eco books I decided I definitely did not like Eco. Kafka I dropped after reading only a few chapters! I haven't read anything by Nabokov, but then his themes do not interest me. And Pahmuk reminds you of them? Well, so far I am finding Pahmuk readable, if not easy, so I'm going to hope I continue to do so.

HATS, you're quite right. I've been highlighting points and quotes with red entirely too much. I blame it on the influence of MNIR.

JOAN, maybe Stork will turn out to be the 'tall one'.

Babi

SCOOTZ, I read this in your post and groaned.

Yes, I feel your pain!

Hey, the first group I tried here at SN was the Eco book. I gave up after less than 100 pages.

It isn't me that is reminded of Eco, but several reviewers apparently were. They'd know better than I!

I'm finding this book ok. I enjoy the cultural stuff and the links and thoughts here. I was thrown at the outset by the different voices, but once I understood what was going on, it began to flow. I'm not nuts about it, but I'm enjoying it ok.

Hats, Scootz, and others -- I agree with you about Shekure. She is something of an enigma. I don't trust her and I'm not sure I like her. Someone said she's manipulative. Absolutely. And not very truthful with her father, although I will admit to some understanding there. If I had to describe her with one word I'd say devious.

Were you surprised by the murderer's comment in chapter 18 -- ". . . Enishte Effendi's grandiose two-story house . . . . lives the most beautiful woman in the world." I was.

Deems, thanks for the words from Judges, about Jael and Sisera. Interesting about the repitition characteristic. One is sure to remember what took place. Regarding Esther -- surprised? I guess. It seems the women of the book are both devious and not trustworthy.

JOanP -- I haven't tried to fathom out the murderer yet. Butterfly seems to be the least likable miniaturist, and Olive is supposedly the true-to-life artist Velijan. Would the author be so bold as to make a real person the murderer?

Judy, thanks for the post about Pamuk's political troubles in Turkey. My house guests who arrived yesterday were talking about him, so I'll be glad to update them with your info. For some reason, I thought that since Turkey is a NATO country they would not be so uptight about people who spoke their mind.

What do you all think about the money angle? I was surpised in Chpt. 19, I am a gold coin. "If I didn't exist, no one would be able to distinguish a good artist from a bad one. . . . . .I've entered the purse of the most talented and intelligent of miniaturists." Money talks.

I hope the author does not regard all women as devious and untrustworthy. Perhaps its just the attitude of the day in which the book was set.

Carolyn

"The old method, used by the miniaturists, must have made the miniatures look flat and colorful.... Those striving for the new method must have been painting miniatures that would strike and look masterful in our eyes, the Westerner's eyes."

I think "flat and colorful" is accurate if by flat you simply mean the space, not a lack of emotion. They do look masterful in Western eyes, though, even wehn they don't directly appeal to Western tastes.

"'Indeed, I believe that style, or for that matter, anything that serves to distinguish one artist from another, is a flaw--not individual character, as some arrogantly claim' (98)

....And yet the murderer claims to be the best of the illuminators. If they are all exactly the same (no deviations) compared to an absolute old school standard, then how can any one of them say he is better than the others."

They're not all exactly the same even if they put no individuality into their illustrations. This is one of the points I suspect the author will nail before the end of the book: the old attempt to vanquish the individuality of humans failed as surely as did striving for perfection. Humans aren't cookie cutter gods.

"Hats - 01:17pm Mar 8, 2006 PT (#260 of 271) I think Mr. Pamuk is saying a country can not remain healthy without going into the future with the present and past going with it. The past and the present, the traditional and the nontraditional make a country whole and this will cause the country to have much to offer to the rest of the world."

Yes, reality calls for one to admit that the past is what made the present. The Turks continue, in Pamuk's time, to try to shake this reality, their religious past, by banishing the wearing of headscarves in schools. By not speaking of what was done to the Armenians, to the Kurds. It's not working very well.

Like the Soviets and Pasternak, the Turks are finding an artist of Pamuk's stature a man to reckon with. And, again, because the Western world took notice. A lot of parallels between Pasternak and Pamuk, I am finding. Both were linguists, loved their home countries with a passion, and gave voice to their anguish about their respective country's direction through powerful literature with a large appeal to Western sensibilities. Both countries are on the crossroads between East and West.

"BaBi Kafka I dropped after reading only a few chapters! I haven't read anything by Nabokov, but then his themes do not interest me. And Pahmuk reminds you of them?"

Ahhggg, just a few chapters? But his short stories are his masterpieces! Oh, well, Kafka is not for everyone. I loved The Trial and The Castle, although I usually disdain posthumous publications, especially unfinished ones. Still, it's his short stories that are the most compelling to me.

Nabokov's has so many themes it hard to imagine that all of them would not interest any person. He's written a huge number of novels about multiple themes in various languages, tons of poetry, literary criticism, cultural essays, and scientific articles about butterflies!

There's not one of his that interests you?

I don't find Pamuk the least bit like Eco or Kafka or Nabokov. The only person possibly in the same realm would be I. B. Singer.

Eco, in my opinion, tries to lead the reader to think like Eco does. I don't think Pamuk would be disappointed in anyone in here if we were to reach a "wrong" conclusion while reading his book. Eco also seems to be lording his knowledge over the readers in his last book. It irritated me. I think Pamuk is trying to open the doors to a huge world.

Kafka? I think I could dissect every word in a Kafka, know exactly what he meant, and still be in a fog of unreality. Pamuk's fogs are more concrete. Kafka's character crawl out of their pictures, their own minds, and your mind. Pamuk's a bit nicer in this respect.

Nabokov? He doesn't leave much doubt as to the nature of his characters. I think Pamuk's people are more about their circumstances than their souls. I haven't read Nabokov in a while, though. Another master of the short story.

Interesting choices for comparison, though.

Kleo

Hi Pedln,

I did find the murderer's words shocking. I did not know what to make of those words. I have put those words on the back burner of my mind. I know they are very important. Since this is a mystery, what is said or done earlier is as important as the present page I am reading. That is a difficulty. My memory is no longer than a six inch string.

Babi,

I don't highlight all the points and quotes. I only write down the sentences which include the word "red." It is impossible to highlight Mr. Pamuk's quotes. There are too many wonderful points in each sentence. I am left in confusion with "My Name is Red." The confusion does not bother me. I am so caught up with the way he writes.

How would a person describe Mr. Pamuk's writing? I do not think it is too descriptive. I think his writing is subtle. Maybe his writing is mischievous. Perhaps, bewitching. No matter how many times I feel that my balance is lost, I find myself wanting to go back and read more and more of the book. I am the fish. Mr. Pamuk is the fisherman. I am hooked. There is no letting go.

Kleo,

That's exactly what I meant in my post. My post had nothing at all to do with "emotion." I find your comparison to Pasternak very interesting. I have not read Dr. Zhivago. I think it was offered on Seniornet in the past. This is the first time I have read anything about Boris Pasternak's life.

I have always wanted to read Umberto Eco's "The Name of the Rose." I think it is a mystery which takes place in a monastery. I have always heard it is a wonderful book. I have never heard whether it is difficult.

I have heard you mention Nabokov's Butterflies in a different forum. Some scientific books are written for people like me. Other scientific books are written for other scientific minds.

I miss Jonathan. I hope he is well.

There is that certain charm in the lack of reality. I like how the columnist likens these miniatures to "exotic and radiant" dollhouses.

"Anyone who's visited Turkey has probably been drawn to the charm of Turkish miniature paintings. These delicate, stylized images of battles and bathhouses, with their fine lines and flat colors, are exquisite examples of Eastern artistry. Looking at them is like peering into an exotic and radiant dollhouse."

As I get further into the book, I think I have to agree with Jonathan. This book could have used a bit more editing. I am reading much that is redundant. No problem, I'll press on but the text is definitely becoming repetitive.Much like me in this paragraph! LOL

Big shakes coming up in this week's section. Although it's ok to do so, I'll not mention it and let you find it on your own.

Do we get new questions?

Is Jonathan ill?

This book could have used a bit more editing. I am reading much that is redundant. No problem, I'll press on but the text is definitely becoming repetitive.

But that's just it! It is the style and mode exactly fitting the time and the story of Pamuk's book. This is not a western book. Pamuk writes in the way Turk people tell a tale. They always embellish, repeat themselves and add lots of colorful details that are not always essential to the story. It seems as if they enjoy hearing themselves. They embroider endlessly on a small fact, weave words all around and the listeners appreciate that talent as much or even more than the plot of the story. Bubble

You're right, of course. It certainly is his style. I guess this much repetition begins to grate after a while.

Hats- did you mention NAME OF THE ROSE? I read it years ago. It's what I'd call dense writing, although I was glad to have read it. It's no page turner, but worth the read if you have the time.

Scootz, thanks for telling me about "The Name of the Rose." I have a copy on the shelf. I have always been afraid to remove it from the shelf.

Morning, all.

Scootz asks "Do we get new questions? " Probably not. We seem to have enough without making up any more. I don't think it'll ever be "20 minutes after" in this discussion.

I agree with Scootz and Jonathan about the editing. Although wouldn't this book be great as the basis for a semester course on Middle Eastern Humanities and Politics of the 16th century. Envision the multi-media going on -- the music played as slides comparing Frankish and Persian art are shown on big screens, the professorial account picking up on Enishte's description on perspective. The story line might provoke lewd comments about Butterfly, the multi-tasker, or "He's 24 and she's 12, no way" -- which would then open the door for discussion about the way they lived in the "olden days."

Can you see the assignments and papers -- compare the political structure of present day Turkey with that of Istanbul in the 16th cent., How does Pamuk differ from Eco in Name of the Rose? and on and on.

ANd here we are -- you all are doing it -- the impossible. And it's great. Bubble explains the format of the book well --" Pamuk writes in the way Turk people tell a tale. They always embellish, repeat themselves and add lots of colorful details that are not always essential to the story. It seems as if they enjoy hearing themselves." Let's just keep doing what we're doing -- raising our own questions, getting our answers, meeting the challenges of the book, and eventually coming up with a murderer.

Scootz, I was only kidding about the editing. The critique you made a hundred posts ago was a valid comment on Pamuk's style, and I thought it invited something like my reply. Seriously, I wouldn't want to change a thing in the book. It may seem florid, it may be richly embellished, but one character does say somewhere, when he says the same about the book illustrations, embellishment is meant as entertainment. We're getting into different cultural tastes here, as someone has already said. Just look at what the storyteller dredges up at every chance. Just hand him a picture, and away he goes. And Black has been invited back to Istanbul to help with the story that will be needed for the pictures of the secret book. I'm amazed that Pamuk is getting it all said in so few pages.

I like the comparison with I B Singer. Shekure would have been a woman to his liking. And he would have taken to encountering with the Jinns in a flash. But with Esther, I see a bit of Sholom Aleicham's handling of her character. And that may seem surprising, because Esther must have been Sephardic, since she's a descendant of the Jews who migrated to Turkey from Portugal. Harried out of Portugal, one shoud say.

Shekure may seem devious. She certainly is complex. But she doesn't know herself what she really wants. She loved her dashing husband. And one thing can be counted on. The maternal instinct is always just below the surface of her bewildered state. Even the adult males in her life need mothering, and are going to get it. Just see the way she looks at Black's letter,

'holding it gently as if it were some delicate and sensitive bird,, and my thoughts become muddled.'

Hats, I laughed reading about the harsh treatment the boys get from their mother. Just like the cuffs the lion cubs get from their mother down at the zoo...

Shekure is always holding the kids to her breast.

I'm okay. Just so pleased the way the discussion is going. Some days my pulmonary congestion problem acts up. I may have to go off to the hills for a few days of fresh air.

Hi Jonathan,

I am very sorry to hear about your pulmonary congestion problems. I hope you will feel some improvement soon.

It feels like a big hole is left in the discussion without you guiding us along. Pedln is wonderful. Each discussion leader offers their special talent to the discussion.

I feel twice confused now. This big, confusing book without one of my captains to guide me along.

Is there any way you can start us off on our second week with the chapter highlights? You and Pedln are our anchors. Without you our ship will get tossed about in the wind.

But please do not let me infringe on your health. Your health is most important.

I don't feel well either. I might as well head to the hills too.

Jonathan--Good to see you and sorry that you are having some health problems. By all means head for the hills if need be. We will all muddle along here to your satisfaction (I hope).

I agree that Shekure is confused. I don't think she knows just what to think about her feelings. AFter all, Black has been out of her life for twelve years and here he is again suddenly. Some of her feelings about him must be those of a twelve year old!

Anyway, I don't see her as devious and I think the scene with her father is enchanting. I had a relationship very like that with my father. I knew what all his expressions meant as well as just how far I could go in asking for things. He was devoted to me but no softie.

Maryal

Jonathan, get well soon! Don't rush. Just take care.

Jonathan,

Sorry to hear you're under the weather and hope you do whatever it is for yourself that you need to. Take care of yourself!

What a hoot that you were joking about the editing.

I think we can all continue on and do our best to keep 'er between the ditches, as my hub likes to say!

I've finished the week's assignment and will zip my lips till some more of you catch up. It is hard for me to think, though, that we are just half way through after this week's reading. I can't imagine what all else is going to happen for the second half.

Florid, huh? O-k.

And when one of the chosen miniaturists disappears, the only clue to the mystery lies in the half-finished illuminations themselves

The clues are in the pictures, eh? We need to get our eyes on that last page, folks!

I agree with Bubble:

"But that's just it! It is the style and mode exactly fitting the time and the story of Pamuk's book. This is not a western book. Pamuk writes in the way Turk people tell a tale. They always embellish, repeat themselves and add lots of colorful details that are not always essential to the story. It seems as if they enjoy hearing themselves. They embroider endlessly on a small fact, weave words all around and the listeners appreciate that talent as much or even more than the plot of the story." Bubble

There are books that are edited from a foreign language into not only a new language but a new style. If I wanted to read a Western book, I would be reading something written in English, by an author who loves the language and can control her own journey through it, not by a translator. If I am reading a book in translation, I want to feel it in its original.

I think, though, that the style is from the Persian, not Turkish or Ottoman, because it is too like the Afghan and Iranian styles of story-telling to be from the Turkish.

Possibly it is an acquired taste, like reading poetry or drama or comic books. If one is used to it, one can appreciate it. I love the style and appreciate Pamuk's mastery of it. I think most of the Afghans I know who read in English will love this book. In fact, I am taking it to my cousin's this weekend to read stories out loud.

But to edit Pamuk into something he's not? Why? There are plenty to read who are Westerners who write brilliantly in their own language. No need to add a Pamuk.

Kleo

"I think, though, that the style is from the Persian, not Turkish or Ottoman, because it is too like the Afghan and Iranian styles of story-telling to be from the Turkish." KleoP

KleoP, I think you are discriminating against the Turks. Don't you think Afghan, Irani and Turks could have a common style of story-telling? I have some Iraki close friends, and that style is typicallly theirs too. I wouldn't be surprised if Egyptians are very at ease with it too. Maybe Mahlia can help us here. Bubble

Well, yes, they could have a common style, and in the Ottoman Empire, rather than Turkey, the former being the subject of the book, the latter being a modern and much more limited country, the influence was from Persia, Asia, Europe, local, and the like.

However, I don't think it's because I'm "discriminating against the Turks," rather that many of what is is common in Middle Eastern, Mediterranean, and South Asian that is of literary origins comes from ancient traditions in the Persian. Other sources too, but Pamuk mentions the Persian influences, not the Arab or South Asian.

Certain styles of carpets, art, poetry, drama, originated in one place and then travelled to others. That it originated in one place doesn't mean someone is "discriminating against the others" when they point this out.

Kleo

Hats: "That Turkey has two souls is not a sickness," he says. He does worry that a Turkey mesmerized by itself is becoming isolated from the world.' The past and the present, the traditional and the nontraditional make a country whole and this will cause the country to have much to offer to the rest of the world.

Is this an analogy for the entire country in our story, the old way of the master’s painting and the new? (The traditional and non traditional).

Esther reminds me of the yentyl (sp?) in Fiddler on the Roof. She knows all. However, our Esther in this story is more concerned with filling her pockets than she is the affairs of the heart. Egos play an important role in this cast doesn’t it? Even the murderer says (re. Enishte’s decision to stop working on the book) that “he can not imagine he’ll be so petty as to think of me as a common murderer rather than a genuinely talented miniaturist.” Isn’t he full of himself? Then he goes on to ask " How many men in Istanbul can truly appreciate the magnificence of his illustrations?”

What DO we know about him thus far ?
1. He has 2 voices now
2. His style and character in his work is also hidden in his crime.
3. He was friends with ElegantE while working on a royal historical verse for the father of the Sultan.
4.They worked on eight illustrated plates that would accompany a collection of Juzilli poems.
5. Their friendship ceased when EE joined the circle of the fierce-browed preacher from Erzunum.
6. After EE was killed our murderer used brighter/bolder colors in his work Last but not least He feels justified!

Maryal, I agree with you about Shekure. She's prima donna who acts like a child.

Alf,

I think it is an analogy for the country in our book. I feel one of the major reasons Elegant was murdered is because of his desire to hold on to the old ways in art. The murderer is obsessed with the new way of painting.

The murderer's thought processes also crosses over into the rest of the Ottoman Empire which was fighting to hold on to the traditional vs. the nontraditional in other ways besides in art. From what I can understand the quarrel continues in Turkey today. This is why Orhan Pamuk, in so many words, says he is their nightmare come back to life or their "repressed memory."

So, "My Name is Red" is not just about art. It is about change on a broader scale. It is about a country choosing to remain "blind" to where the rest of the world is going. So "blind' that, in this instance, Turkey is unable to see it is possible to join the Western way of thinking, learning a nontraditional way of thinking while holding on to their old and loved traditions.

This "blindness" is what isolates us from one another on the world scene, never allowing us to meet as one and share the unique beauties we have to share.

I think a country's refusal to change is like being hidden under a blanket of insecurity. Of course, any change makes a people or a country go into painful cramps first.

"So "blind' that, in this instance, Turkey is unable to see it is possible to join the Western way of thinking, learning a nontraditional way of thinking while holding on to their old and loved traditions." Hats

So why does Turkey have to join the Western way of thinking? Why can't the USA and other Western nations join the Eastern way of thinking?

I'm really enjoying all of your posts in this read, Hats, in particular your willingness to share your personal journey through this read is making this a fun read. I am running into the same feelings at lots of folks, like thinking, aha! It's Shekura! aha! It's Butterfly! aha!

Kleo

Kleo,

I think the East must join the West because they have allowed themselves to become stuck in a time warp. For this reason the West has progressed further in technology and in other ways. A change of thinking could lead to the East surpassing the West. Look at Japan.

Some answers I got from Cenk regarding modern day Turkey.

It is still forbidden for girls to wear headscarves to State funded schools

The population of Istanbul fluctuates and is between 13-15 million. He did not say why it fluctuates. ( migrant workers from the country?)

Traditional Turkish art is the choice of the older generation while younger Turks are more interested in Contemporary Turkish art.

Women can and do go around Istanbul unaccompanied although he says like any other city there are places where even a man would not go alone. His mother is always about the city unaccompanied.

Carolyn

I think Alliemae can answer Kleo's question better I am able to answer it. Bubble also is a world traveller.

Carolyn, can answer the question and has already answered it.

"For this reason the West has progressed further in technology and in other ways."

But is technology all that? Many in here said how much they admire the way Turkish men spend so much time with their families, and how everyone is included in family celebrations, like children underfoot at weddings.

What's so great about living in a technologically sophisticated culture that requires both parents to work, when there are two, living often away from extended family, raising children in day-care centers, so the parents can come home, spend time on the Internet, then watch reality shows on flat screen tv? Then spend the weekend shopping, buying second rate stuff at big box stores, and watching more tv or ferrying their children anywhere but to grandmother's house?

What's so great about technology that it gives the technologically sophisticated a one-way cultural superiority stream?

I like sitting around all day with a huge extended family chatting and eating. Why can't the East import this into the West, rather than it all being a one way transfer? I'm betting Pamuk will wind up with a conclusion that all that is new is not necessarily to be feared or embraced. Not that change is good, but that it happens, but sometimes the customs and the old offer something wonderful to living life also.

I'll take sitting in the backyard on Afghan rugs and barbecuing all summer long after chopping onions with an old world knife over reality tv and cuisinarts any day.

Technology offers something, but if people give up their souls for it, what have they gained? Reality tv?

Kleo

Kleo,

Technology is not everything. But technology does bring more jobs, a way out of poverty. You can't enjoy family life if you are worried about how to feed the family.

I do agree. Both the East and West have something to give to one another. And the West is far from perfect. The West can learn from the East about family life, etc.

This is an historical novel, describing Ottoman court life. But it seems perfectly obvious that Pamuk wants it to have contemporary meaning. That's already reflected in the postings, and makes for interesting speculations.

At the same time, what a unique novel. Incrdibly rich. So many layers of meaning. So many themes. Such wonderful storytelling.

I'm pressed for time. We may run into difficulties getting through the book. I would like to suggest that we keep to a 2-chapter-a-day schedule regardless. That will get us nicely through the book by the end of the month. Tomorrow being the 10th, let's look at chapters 19 and 20.

Talk about influences. Chapter 19 seems Rabelaisian to me.

Jonathan, thank you. I felt worried about what chapters to discuss and what chapters not to discuss.

Jonathan, could you explain "Rabelaisian?"

Kleo, I think it's a give and take on each side. The East and West have something to offer one another. I said that earlier. No one side is perfect.

"But technology does bring more jobs, a way out of poverty. You can't enjoy family life if you are worried about how to feed the family." Hats

I disagree. I think technology without education can be more dangerous than useless. Give all the 3rd World uneducated women in the universe cuisinarts and television without the education to dictate and make choices in their lives and you've only created pollution, not a way out of poverty.

This is also, imo, why people like Esther and Shekura are the way they are. They have no place in the world, only in the home, or in what limited sphere of influence, in the case of Esther, they can carve out of the world. Well, in the case of Shekura, also.

Again, why the Taliban feared educating women so much. Why a Talib is in Yale, but these same Americans won't be building girls' schools, nor will the Talib once he graduates, in Afghanistan.

An educated woman can place herself successfully in both worlds. An uneducated one with all the technology in the universe, is stuck wherever she is allowed to be.

Technology is simply a tool. Without the knowledge and interest to use it, it is worthless. Unless the computer is an older one and heavy enough to be used as a hammer. Look at all the tanks and bombs in Afghanistan, unexploded ordinance. This is technology. Not only is it not feeding anyone, it's polluting the agricultural areas of Afghanistan and making it so they can't feed themselves. Import tractors, GIS, generators for electricity to run the computers, and how many fields do you gain? None as long as they're filled with unexploded mines. Mine sweepers? Who's going to run them?

It's a give and take, but I don't think giving technology is the answer. Educated people can take or make their own technology. I don't think technology is all that major an offering compared to the beauty of these illustrated manuscripts, the extended family, and the delicious spices. In fact, of all of these, it's spices that seem to have most changed the world, until now.

Kleo

I really don't see Shekure as a devious or manipulative person. It has been my observation that women whose rights are restricted or who are forced to dominating men, must find other ways to cope. If you can't go over or through, you must find a way to go around. Shekure is understandably concerned about the possibility of her father dying and leaving her with no choice but to return to her husband's family. She cannot afford to totally alienate her brother-in-law, in case she finds herself with no alternative but to marry him. She does care for Black, and is trying to get her father to consider letting her go, if she can have her missing husband declared dead. He is reluctant. IMO, Shekure is doing the very best she can given her situation.

JOAN, I confess to not being familiar with the larger body of Nabokov's works. He first came to my attention when "Lolita" hit the best seller lists. I suppose I allowed myself to become prejudiced w/o giving him a fair hearing. I.B. Singer, now, him I like!

HATS, that was a very clear commentary on the parallels between the story in MNIR and the struggle in the Ottomon Empire to move into the future. Thank you.

Ready to continue with CH. 18 & 19, Jonathan..

Babi

Technology without education is useless. I agree. Education is extremely important. Without education and technology we could not share a conversation with Carolyn in New Zealand so readily.

Just in this discussion education and technology have allowed us to wonder at and enjoy the beauty of the illuminated manuscripts, learn about the Turkish family life, etc.

Some, of course, have the wherewithal to travel to Turkey or other countries, I can not travel that far because of financial reasons. I have only travelled up and down the East Coast of the United States.

This is why education and technology are important. This is the only means some have of reaching out and learning about the beauties of the East.

No country is an island including the West. The East and West need each other. Maybe this is another theme in "My Name is Red." The murderer could have shared his new knowledge with Elegant. Elegant could have continued to share the value of his traditional way.

One pulling one way and the other yanking the other way led to a total split. Where there is a split, unity can not survive. Therefore, nothing positive can happen. Growth is not there only death.

Babi,

You have gave me a clearer understanding of Shekure's character. I admit to not understanding what to think of her. Now, thanks to you, I have more empathy for her. She is in a tough situation.

Jonathan,

Thank you for coming in and telling us what to discuss next. It is much appreciated.

I think the West needs the East if for no reason than to make us think about the values we espouse and to maybe take on board some of the family values that are still held in Eastern Countries. It is interesting to note how as Japan has become more westernised their families are fragmenting and the values they have held dear for centuries are changing their society not always for the better.

When Vanessa was in Turkey she found Cenks grannies so endearing. One of them after hugging her and telling her how beautiful she was asked her when she was going to present her with a great grandchild. She said once she got used to all the embracing from family members she said that it was really nice to be hugged. Turks always kiss and hug family and close friends even males embrace other males.

She said the wonderful food that was produced wherever you went was something she enjoyed. She said food was always made from scratch from very healthy ingredients. Even the grannies were great cooks and put on a veritable banquet.

Istanbul is divided into two parts. The Asian Quarter and the European Quarter. Cenks parents live in the European quarter about five mins walk from the Bosphorus.

Another interesting fact I was told was about the red used in the ancient ceramic tiles. Nobody to this day has been able to reproduce this brilliant red. I can remember when Vanessa and I were doing ceramics we could not get that red glaze for our work. Vanessa said when they were on a tour the guide told them that this red has never been reproduced in modern times.

Carolyn

Babi- re Shekure- I think the problem here is that we may post a note after having read a chapter where Shekure seems very ambivalent and unsure of who she loves. A few chapters later, we may have a new idea about her. I know I have posted things that 50 pages later I no longer believe. I agree that she is doing what she can. I think her confusion makes her appear manipluative in the early chapters, though.

Hats- I liked your post about Turkey moving into the future as well.

HI- HATS-- I was much taken by your description:" Looking at the Minatures is like looking into an exotic and radiant Dollhouse".

However that dollhouse , though exotic is also flat, without shadow or perspective. It is the style favored by the Russian Iconists before the rapid development of Western Art whose center was for many years in Venice.

As we look at the past through these drawings and the men who drew them, Pamuk is teaching us how some, but not all of them, managed to put depth in flatness and mystery in the obvious.

The manuscript , which has possible heretical content, has caused friction and jealousy among the illustrators. For now the infighting has culminated in one murder. As I continue to read this weeks chapters it begins to feel as though the end of the infighting may culminate in more mayhem or perhaps more murder.

What say you?

Judy

"I know I have posted things that 50 pages later I no longer believe."

Geeze, Scootz it takes 50 changes to change your beliefs? Mine get changed in 50 words.

There is a famous color of red used in Iznik tiles called coral red, but actually a scarlet color, that was first used on the Suleyman I's mosque, and faded in use by the 18th century. The descendents of the people who developed these tiles, considered by many to be the greatest of the Ottoman Empire tilings, are using scientific methods to determine the techniques and minerals of the glazes today.

resized

Suleymaniye Mosque

If you look at the pictures of the exterior you will see it looks a lot like the one called the "Blue Mosque" by Westerners. I am told this is because they were both, as many others were, designed to mimic the architecture of the Hagia Sophia. The Blue Mosque was made later, 17th century, while the Syleymaniye was built mid 16th century, before the times of the book. I know the Suyleymaniye has been rebuilt a number of times (empires on the crossroads of Europe and Asia or Asia and the Middle EAst tend to have this issue).

I am told the color is also called tomato red, and this is a more accurate description of it than coral red. I agree that it is supposed to look more tomato than coral. I still think it was called coral red, but I tend to think of this as pinkish.

Kleo

HATS, Rabelaisian refers to the writing style of François Rabelais (ca. 1483-1553), which is characterized by coarse, sometimes bawdy humor and biting satire.

Rabelais was a friar, first in the Franciscan order and, with papal permission, later a member of the Benedictine order. He studied and taught medicine in France. He was the author of "Gargantua and Pantagruel", a widely popular comic novel that was condemned by the academies of the Sorbonne because of the unorthodox views it expressed.
Three subsequent books were banned and placed on the Index librorum prohibitorum = the Index of Forbidden Books. (The fate of a fifth book is unknown.) Rabelais also wrote satirical pamphlets critical of established authority, containing his own ideas of individual freedom. He was respected by the humanists of his time and admired by writers of subsequent generations.

Quite a few impressions may well change and some questions be answered with the reading of the second assignment. Until then I, too, will stay mum.

Kleo- that link, and the mosque therein is spectacular! I have a fabulous cutaway of the Hagia Sophia in one of my DK books here at home.

Nah, it takes me more than 50 words to change my impression. That a few sentences!

In this week's reading, I seemed to arrive at a place where a whole host of things began happening. Lots of action, not so florid. Thumbs up on that!

Vanessa is bringing me over some photos to scan from her visit to Turkey in November. She has photos of the Hagia Sophia would someone post them for me if I emailed them? Do you want to see some photos of Istanbul today? I am not sure if I will photograph her photos or scan them. I have had some very good success with photographing prints with my digital camera. Its much easier to process the photos via the camera than the scanner to be honest. So much quicker!

Carolyn

Ulysses wonderful trip home from Troy wasn't half as adventurous as the gold coin's seven years of going from hand to hand in Istanbul.

Follow the money. Wasn't that Deep Throat's advice to the investigating reporter? Wouldn't it be reasonable to suppose that one of the 560 stops, of which the gold coin speaks, will supply a valuable clue in solving our mystery?

Or is the chapter meant only as comic relief?

It's very late. The coffeehouse is 'overcome with funereal melancholy.' Elegant's death has shaken them into a state of fear and mutual suspicion. The storyteller asks for a picture of an object. Leave the embellishment to him.

What a homily on money it turns out to be. Surely even the preacher Nusret Hoja would approve of the good morals contained in the storytellers tale. If only Nusret Hoja could allow himself so much irony and wit.

The laughter must have shaken the rafters. What a disgusting journey. What a strange picture of the human scene. Certainly we get to hear a lot of curious details in the lives of Istanbul's citizens.

And the storyteller? In full metaphorical flight, as he boasts of finding a 'proof that poetry is consolation to life's miseries.' Let's be gladdened, he tells his listeners, by the civilizing power of money. So, money cannot after all have caused the murder.

Judy,

That quote is not my quote. It is a quote from one of the news magazines or newspapers in the header. I have written in an earlier post about the miniatures having a flatness or lacking a three dimensional look.

It is like all schools of art. Some people prefer reality while others might like how the Impressionists painted. Some people might like both schools of art.

Myself? I like Grandma Moses's paintings. I guess it is called Folk Art. I also very much love paintings by Norman Rockwell. I like Vermeer too. In his paintings I can see every detail. I have seen many paintings by Andrew Wyeth. I think there is a reality to his paintings too. I am not an art expert. I just know what I like to look at and observe in a painting.

From what I can understand Elegant chose the "flat" way of painting or the old school. He was also involved with the preacher Nusret Hoja of Erzutum. There is the matter of religion in this too. The old school believing you should not try to illuminate, gild, paint, do art in any way which would suggest a graven image.

I also understand the fighting going on between the artists which is causing murder and mayhem in the book. It is a fight to the death because of a lack of unification, a lack of communication. It is a secular and religious war much like we see the U.S. and other countries fighting today.

No, the U.S. is not always right, far from it. Neither is the other side always right either. This book is amazing and Orhan Pamuk is significant because the battles have not changed much. Just the people have changed. Maybe we fight the battles in a more sophisticated way than in "My Name is Red. I am not sure. Anyway, the fight for superiority is the main goal. My customs or way of life is better than yours. It almost sounds like the fight between two little children.

What say I? Nothing that I have not already said in past posts. I will comment on chapters 19 and 20 tomorrow at some point.

Traude, thank you for the definition of "Rabelaisian."

The Suleymaniye Mosque is very, very beautiful. I bet it takes the breath away to really stand in these places. I am really enjoying the links. This is my way of journeying across the sea.

Carolyn, I would LOVE to see some photos of Istanbul today. I haven't been there since 1989 and I'd love to see how it may have changed.

Alliemae

When we first started reading this book I was getting 'Nusret Hoja' confused with a character of great humor and wit by the name of 'Nasrudin Hoja' and couldn't understand how Nusret had become so serious, as Nasrudin was famous for his clever fables.

"Mulla Nasrudin has a tendency of appearing foolish, but in doing so exposes other people’s foolishness with his own sharp wit. He is portrayed as either very stupid or miraculously clever, a resistance figure who thumbs his nose in the face of authority and capitalist rulers, or as an example to illustrate Sufi teachings. Thus, a wide spectrum is covered by these tales; from children’s jokes to religious meditation to revolutionary rebellion."

http://www.geocities.com/zimbbo/history.htm

Alliemae

Carolyn,

I would love to see the photos of Istanbul today.

Alliemae,

Thanks for the link.

Jonathan, I don't think this chapter (I Am A Coin) is comic relief at all. I find those chapters about inanimate objects to be replete with cultural details.

Also, I could be wrong, but I think all those objects appear on the LAST PAGE, which I keep talking about. Seems to me someone was commissioned to put a dog, coin, tree, horse etc on that page.

I thoroughly enjoyed the I Am A Coin chapter (and the other like ones) because they are a relief from being beat over the head with the art concepts.So, hey, maybe they are a sort of relief after all.

I enjoyed "I Am A Coin" too. I laughed while reading some parts. I did notice the fact that Stork works hard to earn his money. I get the impression Stork feels others should pay him for his talents.

Scootz,

For some reason I keep putting the dog together with a thiefing master. I guess that would include a coin or coins. Have I completely lost it?

ALF, that was my impression too.

Alliemae

Esther appears at first blush to be matchmaking, but isn't she really doing what she's doing for money? She's treading dangerous ground.

Mulla Nasrudin is either very stupid or very clever? Reminds me of the good soldier Svejk.

"Esther appears at first blush to be matchmaking, but isn't she really doing what she's doing for money? She's treading dangerous ground." Scootz

Matchmaking is traditionally done for money. It's part of most cultures that I know of that have arranged marriages and people customarily marry out. Even cultures that don't marry out often have matchmakers. And matchmakers are often paid.

Kleo

Matchmaking is traditionally done for money

Ah, ok. I guess what I was getting at was that she cared less about who hooked up with who(m)? than she did about the money. I guess I've always thought of matchmakers as having good intentions. My bad.

I just finished reading this.

There seemed to me to be something very allegorical about this chapter, what with the extreme depictions of the carnal and the coin presenting and representing different sides of the moral vs. greed vs. Divine vs. human desire for notoriety and wealth and fame, etc.

Then too there is the hinting at misrepresentations and insincerity in the story of the the counterfeit nature of the coin.

I'll have to read it again but I think it is a telling chapter, and like an allegory must be read and re-read and examined word by word.

Alliemae

Well, she really has to care more about the match in order to make money. She only gets customers by word-of-mouth. If she makes a bad match people trash her reputation and she doesn't continue to get customers. She can't really have only making money no matter how bad the match as her goal, because it's a one time goal. If she's an actual matchmaker, she has to be a success.

And matchmaking is one of those deadly career enders: it's never just one dissatisfied customer! It's two entire families of them for every single failure.

Every good match? More matches for the same family, for the children whose parents were brought together, etc.

It's a career with a built-in filter against those who are no good at it.

Kleo

Black comes calling at the house where Shekure lives with her father. Black has come to discuss book illustrating with Enishte. But his thoughts are all about love letters, and imagining once again the enchantment of Shekure's face at the window.

What Black finds himself listening to is the story of Enishte's conversion to the shattering revelations of Western renaissance portraiture. A conversion accompanied by a great deal of guilt at being seduced by the works of the Devil.

What an enticement Venice, and all of Italy, were for every artist in Europe in those glorious years of the Renaissance. They all came to learn. Then, as now, it could bring on a culture shock. But for the ambassador from the Sultan's Court it was much more than that. For Enishte it became a spiritual crisis, reviving memories of the Prophet smashing idols in Mecca a thousand years earlier.

How strange to look at the new Venetian art through Islamic eyes. Intoxicating, but also bewildering. Enishte tells it with mixed feelings. With words that were,

'...belittling, as if he were speaking out of jealousy, ambition or greed. Though, at times, as he talked about the portraits he'd seen in Venice, his face would abruptly light up like a child's, invigorated.'

It's a wild, revealing confession to Black of the allures and dangers of trying something so strange and new it might undermine the old and the true. Enishte is at a crossroads, and he seems both exhilarated and terrified by what he sees.

Things are slowly coming together for a view of the high stakes being played for in the making of the new, secret book. Very high stakes for Enishte in this dubious enterprise.

Rabelaisian? Thanks, Traude!
I was just going to try to Google it when I saw your post!
The gold coin chapter brings to mind Roman stories. Obviously many cultures use the possession of wealth to build cautionary tales or parables.

We read one story in Latin class last year where a ring, rather than a coin, changed hands: from a trader to a tavern keeper to a slave; each had terrible luck when he held on to the ring, but giving it away changed his luck.

However, "I am the coin" is a different viewpoint.
Which to me, confirms that "I am red" is the color within a miniature who is speaking.

Thank you, Jonathan...I'll keep this in mind as I read on.

I must confess that what I came in to post was my remaining confusion after reading chapter 20 twice.

I don't know if it's Black as narrator accounting Enishte Effendi's conversations with the Sultan, Enishte's vacillating moods as he retells/rethinks? those conversations, or what exactly has me so confused, so I'll keep in mind that this may be a prelude or segue into the next big event.

Alliemae

Chapter 20. The shock of the new becomes the inspiration for a new book.

This chapter seems so interesting. Enishte's talk with Black is like a religious "confession." Enishte's religious values tell him a rule to abide by forever. Then, he sees the Venetian art. Enishte is enraptured by the portraits which are so lifelike.

Jonathan, your choice of words is very helpful, "cultural shock" and "spiritual crisis."

The Sultan wants the Secret Book illustrated. It would include a portrait of himself. This is going to be sent to Venice as a peace offering.

Is it possible to keep such a book secret? Rumors have a way of flying faster than any bird.

I was struck by Enishte's words about the attractions of having a portrait of oneself. "It was as if I too wanted to feel extraordinary, different and unique. ...How should I say it? It's as if this were a sin of desire, like growing arrogant before God, like considering oneself of utmost importance, like situating oneself at the center of the world." I can well see how this would be a frightening realization to a man who understood that one should be humble before Allah.

He is right, isn't he? Wasn't the desire of wealthy Western patrons to have their portraits painted a matter of ego and pride? It was even considered a mark of piety to have the image of oneself inserted into proximity with Divinity.

And yet, portraiture came to have a historical aspect, too. Doesn't it give us a feel for continuity and history to see portraits of kings and popes, stretching back stretching back for generations?

The gold coin had a fascinating career, tho' I confess that at one point I would have preferred not to know about it. But as someone else here noted, I think the fact of its false weight, counterfeit of the true coin, does have a purpose for our story.

BABI

I know that fundamentalist muslims do not believe in having ones photo taken and would not be filmed if they are aware of the camera. Throughout the book the mention of lifelike images being sinful is plentiful. Therefore if the Sultan wanted a true likeness of himself in the book it would be considered a great sin by many and those who painted the portrait would be tarred with the same sin as the man whose image appeared in the book.

I think that this is the reason for the murder more than professional jealousy being the motive for the murder.

Carolyn

From Turkish coins and coffee to minaturists early and recent, the "More LInks" page is a treasure trove of information. Pat has added many more of the links you all have so willingly offered to the page above. You don't need to scour the back pages to find the link you want. Many thanks, Pat.

The remainer of links will be added as time (and weather) permits.

PatWest, thank you.

Pedln, thank you.

"Follow the money. Wasn't that Deep Throat's advice to the investigating reporter? Wouldn't it be reasonable to suppose that one of the 560 stops, of which the gold coin speaks, will supply a valuable clue in solving our mystery?"

Jonathan,

I have just reread some of your words about "I Am A Coin." Poor me. If there is a clue there, I missed it. Does the the coin hold the secret to a clue or some clues?

Have I missed the photos of Istanbul? Are you waiting for your daughter to bring the photos over your house?

Where is everybody???

I think Elegant is mentioned by "Coin." Am I wrong? Listen to what Coin says to us.

"I remember...the gilder, no longer among us--no need to name names-who spent his evenings arranging us into various designs."

Is that a clue? If it is, it has gone over my head.

___________________________________________________________________

Kleo, Bubble, Carolyn, Alliemae,

The Coin mentions the "heels of rose-scented shoes." Rose-scented shoes doesn't that sound so feminine and pretty? Is this what the women wore during the Ottoman period? Because of the Harems, I am thinking, the women must have worn beautiful clothing. Of course, I am only guessing.

Jonathan, Pedln, JoanP, Deems, Alf,

Help!!!

I remember reading about the dog belonging to a master who was a thief. When Dog told his story, he talked about his master cutting the throat of a person. Dog's job was to cover the yells of the victim by barking.

Now, Coin is talking about the same situation. Coin remembers being put into the purse of the thief. The thief blames his greed on Coin. This thief also slits a person's throat before leaving him for dead.

My mind is looking for a person who loves money, a very greedy person.

A person with a dog

A person who slits the throats of his victims.

I also think the traditional and nontraditional form of art are a part of it too.

Jonathan,

Your chapter outlines are really helping me. Breaking down the chapters helps me keep my eyes peeled for every little bitty thing that might get pass me.

Jonathan,

Do we get chapter 21 and 22 today? Hope you are well.

"It was as if I too wanted to feel extraordinary, different and unique. ...How should I say it? It's as if this were a sin of desire, like growing arrogant before God, like considering oneself of utmost importance, like situating oneself at the center of the world."

Ah! but the next part of this is even more important, I think.

"Thereafter, this idea dawned on him (Eshente): These methods which the Frankish artists made use of .......could in fact become a force meant to serve our religion, bringing under its sway all who beheld it."

But, the Sultan cannot possibly admit to wishing to have his portrait shown, so it will be hidden in the illuminated pages of a book.And the book will be presented to the Venetian Doge , to "become a symbol of the vanguishing power of the ....Sultan."

The artists are already in place and Black will do the accompanying stories. For, as the Sultan says " It's the story that is essential."

Good morning!

I see Scootz has already responded to Kiwi Lady's remark about the Sultans sin in having his portrait painted. I doubt if he personally considers it a sin, being more modern than most of his subjects, but he definitely plans to send the book elsewhere, and keep the portrait secret in his own country.

Hats, the idea I got from the 'gilder' arranging coins into a pattern, is that Elegant was doing work on the side to bring in extra money, whatever he may have said about among his colleagues. The picture of someone playing with coins makes me think of a miser, tho' I don't know what that has to do with our mystery.

In Ch. 22, "I AM CALLED BLACK", Shevket, Shekure's elder son, takes Black to an empty house only 40-50 paces away from Enishte's house. It belonged to a Jewish family, and again Esther crops up as a businesswoman handling the sale of the house. Shevket tells Black that his Mother meets with Esther here. Now this opens up a number of possibilities in my mind.

Has Shekure told Shevket to show Black the house and tell him about it? Is she hinting at a way of seeing Black away from her house? Her father is reluctant to lose her, but we read of the problems that would arise if a husband moved in with them. It would result in a demeaning or belittling of the husband. But perhaps Enishte would be pleased with a compromise of a house only a short distance away. Ver-r-ry interesting.

Babi

In chapter 21, I have taken notice of several (what I think are) important details. see what you think:

Eshente actually admits that he has "duped" the Sultan into his trap of iluustrating the book outside of the perpective of Allah. I begin to think that Eshente , not Shekure, is the great manipulator.

Further on, he manipulates circumstance such that Black will have to finish the book, even if he (Eshente) is killed...and Shekure will promise not to allow their marriage until Black completes it. Eshente has everyone right where he wants them.

It's also of interest to note that twice, Eshente cogitates about Black killing him. He says...

"Now and then I imagined that he wanted to lower that poker onto my head and kill me...."

and later, watching Black walk away, he refers to Black as "my sleepless and troubled murderer".

And lastly, Shekure and her father are not straight with each other. They do not tell the truth in their discussions, unless it benefits them.Just who is manipulating who(m) is sometimes hard to say.

Enishte is captivated with the way the Venetians draw portraits. It seems the world is on fire with this new method of drawing where a person can recognize himself in the painting. It is not unusual to look at a painted Biblical scene and see a wealthy friend or relative's face painted into the mural.

I can only wonder at what this new method of drawing meant to the religious world. I wonder, overall, what the relationship between the Venetians and the Ottoman Empire was like? Didn't the counterfeit coins also come from Venice? Did the Ottoman Empire mainly trade and do business with Venice?

Today's reading also makes us aware of the missing shadows in Turkish miniatures. Could this be seen as a societal self-deception?

Poor Enishte. He's a worried man. With death on his mind. Shekure, too, is worried that her father may die. What will become of her then? Back to a servile life in her father-in-law's house? With a brother-in-law who would like to replace his missing brother in Shekure's life?

And so they cling to each other, father and daughter. They both need Black, each in their own way, for ulterior solutions to their secret longings for the impermissable.

While Enishte talks, Black dreams, each knowing they don't have the other's attention. Black seems indifferent to his uncle's strange enthusiasm for alien ideas about art. It is left to Shevket to empty the pot of his grandfather's vile, sacrilegious notions in the place where they belong...the outhouse in the yard.

'My mother comes here with Esther',

Shevket tells Black, in the house of the Hanged Jew. Holy Smoke. What's this all about? Are the two of them performing augeral rituals with cats, exploring Shekure's destiny? There's more than meets the eye in this Turkish tale, despite the virtuoso storyteller Pamuk's determined effort to leave nothing out.

Or is it only a boy's imagination?

Everybody is frightened. It's hinted that even the Sultan is unsure of himself, as he listens to his ambassador's suggestion about new perspectives. It's an ominous air that pervades Enishte's mind and household.

While Black plays with the iron poker!

Jonathan, you and Pedln are wonderful discussion leaders.

Gollee!! I just love the book. I want to get all we can from it. If I don't understand, I can always ask.

Jonathan,

It is my shopping day. I just could not leave Elegant in the well. Besides what is Black up to? Too much is going on. I am a bibliophile. I have been waiting for your magic words for the next two chapters.

Yes, I shopped for my flowers during "House of Mirth." We must have read it during the spring and summer.

Now I am going shopping. Bye!

Not all fundamentalist Muslims mind having their picture taking, although few seek it, none that I know, and few have family photos or photo albums or even cameras. "Fundamentalism" is not a precisely defined religion, like Orthodox Jewdaism, but rather an attitude towards belief adopted in various ways by various people in their own religion. Mostly it refers to taking the holy text of their own faith literally. However a literal interpretation by one is not the same as that by another. For one thing, there were no cameras back then.

Then there's lack of human perfection in everything.

Most Muslims that I know personally would be rather shocked at another Muslim, especially one of theirs, seeking to get a personal portrait.

Kleo

Hats, no wonder you are confused - the gold coin tells us that the base thief who possessed him (the coin), the same gold coin that was once in Elegant's possession, slit his victim's throat. Though Elegant was NOT killed by such means, he was murdered SO, we now have TWO murderers - or this murderer has killed twice! To make things even more confusing, the gold coin tells us that he (the coin) is now in Stork's possession!

Jonathan tells us to "follow the money" - All right, where is it? Which miniaturist earns more? In Chapter 19 he, the gold coin, tells us this is STORK:

"...none among the miniaturists earns more than he does. I (the coin) take pride in being recognized as a measure of talent among artists and putting an end to unnecessary arguments...who was the most talented, who had the best sense of color..."

But didn't we hear the same earlier about Butterfly's talent and earnings?

"I am the one who earns the most money, and therefore, I am the best of all miniaturists."

We are learning that we cannot believe the information we are getting - at least we must consider the sources. Keep in mind the "gold" coin is counterfeit!!! hahha...

Do you get the feeling that Uncle Enishte would like to have his own portrait done? He seems to be distracted with thoughts of his own impending death - even imagines Black picking up that inkpot (containing red ink, remember?) and doing him in. He tells Shekure he wants her to finish the book with Black's help if he dies before it's finished. He's working on an illustration entitled "DEATH" -

SO now we hear him telling Black of the Venetian portraits he saw...and the distinctive, human faces...mementos of the lives of the rich, who wanted to feel unique and important and would be remembered solely on account of the portraits.

Enishte tells Black "had I been depicted in a portrait I'd better understand why I existed in the world." While their talk concerns displaying the Sultan's image in the Book being prepared for the Venetian Doge,I got the feeling that Enishte would like to be remembered after his own death.

This is a very dangerous business. I can't tell if the Sultan has seen any samples, or even knows exactly what the miniaturists are preparing. His ego seems to want to be remembered in the book, but what will his reaction be when he actually sees the finished Book. What will the reaction of others - the Head Treasurer?

Black is frightened when he first hears about the plans..he's afraid of the implication that such a work will bring about the end of Islamic artistry. What does Black really think? Just wait until he hears his uncle's hidden agenda - he wants Black to write the stories to go with the illustrations already finished. Isn't this backwards? Don't pictures usually illustrate a story? The pictures seem to be the story here!

When I visited Venice - AND Florence, I was impressed with the frescoes presented to Churches by the rich who had the painters incorporate their own pictures into the paintings of Biblical stories. When we had guides, they would point out the faces of this or that Doge, duke, etc. I thought I remembered one specific fresco in which this happened, but when I found it, I saw (and remembered) that the PAINTER, Ghirlandaio had entered his own face into the scene he was painting for the church - Santa Trinita in Florence in 1475. He's looking out of the picture at the viewer - on the left, his face right behind the bishop's dark hair -

Which just goes to show that not only did Enishte see the the rich and famous, having their unique faces portrayed in portraits and public art, he also saw PAINTERS having their portraits done. I'm thinking that Enishte not only wanted his portrait done, but that he has found a way to be included in this secret book!

Hats I am waiting for Vanessa to bring the photos over here. As soon as she does will scan them while she is here. I will chose three or four for posting.

carolyn

Lots of thunderstorms here, lightening.

Andy, post 291 -- Thanks for the summary of the murderer. It's a help when trying to keep straight the characteristics of the characters. I'm going to have to concentrate his two different voices.

JoanP, shades of Alfred Hitchcock -- the rich and famous of Vienna appearing in the pictures of Bible stories, and artists incorporating themselves into their own work. Fascinating. That's an interesting theory about Enishte wanting his own portrait in the secret book. Possibly very true. We know now that it was Enishte who persuaded the Sultan to do the book, not the other way around -- the Sultan proposing the idea, although of course he wants his picture to be there. The book will be presented to the Venetian Doge, so does that mean that perhaps it will not be seen by the fanatical clerics of Istanbul?

Yes, one wonders, Jonathan, what is going on at the house of the Hanged Jew. Shevket supposedly takes Black there to show him the dead cat, but actually he has already taken the cat's carcass to his own house. I think the boy sniffs something going on and wants to sound out Black, this visitor who pays him attention and kisses him. Is he a man among men, more so than his father, than his Uncle Hasan who has a red sword. Is he going to be Shevket's father?

JoanP, the fresco is very beautiful. The colors are so bright. The artist is there too. I bet this fresco is huge. That would mean the faces are really big. Is the fresco big? What does fresco mean? Is it like a mural? Of course, I don't know the difference between a fresco and a mural.

Your thoughts are really interesting. Enishte wants himself included in the Secret Book? Now that should cause more than enough anger to go around.

Carolyn, don't worry. I am excited to see Istanbul in the photos.

pedln. Your answer to Joan #359 suddenly made it clear for me that confusely this was what I felt about Enishte and his wish to be remembered. Yes, there is lots unsaid there about his wishes.

Right, Hats, If others guesses that Enishte wanted to be in the secret book, it would cause a riot, especially since he was such a prominent person. Bubble

Bubble,

I wonder will the Secret Book ever make its way to the Venetian Doge?

I am beginning to see Orhan Pamuk's redundancy. I can see where this could grow tiring.

Isn't the Sultan manipulative too? He knows to have his portrait hanging on the wall would give the appearance that he is inviting the minds of infidels to worship him. Yet, he does admire these portraits. So, in order to get what he wants by not offending the religious circle he decides to have his portrait put in a book. That way his portrait is "only" serving a useful end. His portrait, the Sultan's, is helping to illustrate a story. Really, I think, the Sultan is fulfilling his own desires, seeing his glorious likeness on paper.

But we never really heard the Sultan, did we? only hearsay. In this book many interpret facts in different ways, just like we are doing. I enjoy the analysis here and the see-saw between thinking this or changing one's mind to that. lol

It is a very rich book and I think lots of its details will stay in us for a long time. Bubble

Bubble,

We hear Enishte telling Black about the Sultan. Is that what you get? Maybe I am confused. I have the impression in the chapter Enishte is describing what the Sultan's feelings and what Enishte has seen while in Venice.

Am I off?

Bubble yes, only heresay is what I am getting too. Sometimes heresay is worth listening too. Maybe there are some nuggets of truth in heresay.

Yes Hats, Enishte said.

Pedln said:

"We know now that it was Enishte who persuaded the Sultan to do the book, not the other way around -- so how much of what he tells Black is the Sultan's? I wondered if it was all true or if he was pushing his own wish.

Maybe we are over-critical and should read more of the book before attempting that. Bubble

SCOOTZ, Enishte is so ambivalent about his desire to emulate the Western artists. He has been troubled with a sense of guilt, and I think it is this guilty feeling that was speaking when he said he had duped the Sultan. Actually, if he has reported accurately his conversation with the Sultan, it was the Sultan who subtly suggested the making of his portrait for the book.

I don't think Enishte was referring to Black with his thought about the murderer. He had accompanied Black to the gate, and as Black walked away, his thought is: "there was something to the cold night that seemed to make my sleepless and troubled murderer stronger and more devilish than me and my book."

Black is simply going home after his Uncle Enishte finally releases him. It seems to me that standing in the cold and dark of the night has brought the murderer to Enishte's mind. He worries that the murderer may somehow prevent the oompletion of the book. It's not likely he has just placed the completion of the book in the hands of one he suspects of being the murderer.

Babi

Babi,

I am glad you used the word "subtle" while talking about the Sultan. If we are hearing the conversation correctly from Enishte, doesn't the Sultan seem manipulative or well, "subtle?" The Sultan knows how to get his way.

I have been wondering this morning what exactly does Orhan Pamuk want us to take away from "My Name is Red?" I think his motive for writing the book is more than a murder mystery. It's not just about illuminated manuscripts from a far earlier century. What is he trying to tell us or show us or explain to us? Am I getting it?

Jonathan, in his chapter outline for chapter 21 and 22 asks a question. To me, it seems important.

"Today's reading also makes us aware of the missing shadows in Turkish miniatures. Could this be seen as a societal self-deception?"

Jonathan, could you give a deeper answer to that question. Maybe the other posters could give answers too? It's a hard question for me. Maybe I don't see the parallel between "societal self-deception" and shadows. It seems very interesting to think about.

Shadows are lacking in the Turkish miniatures. Why?

When I read "My Name is Red," I have more questions than answers. Does anybody else feel this way? For example, Black's ongoing love for the same woman for over twelve years. Did his life remain static while away? Shekure, whatever we think of her, has moved on. She married, became a widow, has two children, cares for her father, goes through a stressful relationship with a brother in law. I know more about Shekure than Black. Do I really know much about Black? I don't think so.

Is Black obsessed with loving Shekure. Is his love healthy?

Then, I wonder about Elegant's family. Will we ever meet his family? Learn more about their life without a husband and father? What happens to a family after such a brutal murder?

Are these just issues that bare no importance to the novel? Does the author, Orhan Pamuk fail to pick up all the threads? Then I wonder who am I to even ask such a question. Is the religious question his main theme? Is anything else just fluff?

Maybe I am just too impatient. Wanting answers before it's time to receive answers.

Babi said

Black is simply going home after his Uncle Enishte finally releases him. It seems to me that standing in the cold and dark of the night has brought the murderer to Enishte's mind. He worries that the murderer may somehow prevent the oompletion of the book. It's not likely he has just placed the completion of the book in the hands of one he suspects of being the murderer.

Well, that does seem reasonable, I admit, but yet he did earlier in the chapter think of Black as murdering him. He has the book foremost in his mind and if Black were to kill him, he has Shekure left who will see to it that Black completes it - or no marriage!

I'm not sure either about your take on him "duping" the Sultan. I think Eshente is very cunning and is manipulating things to his way. We shall see I guess. I'll agree to disagree for now on these points. I don't have lots of confidence on how I'm seeing things, that's for sure.

I do appreciate your addressing my post, though. I was beginning to get a complex! LOL

I have been looking at the Seniornet Archives. In the archives, there is a book titled "Leap of Faith" by Queen Noor. On that page is a link called "The History of the Ottoman Empire."

Scootz, I am like you. I don't trust my own thoughts. I put my thoughts here in hopes someone will correct my wrong ideas. From what I can understand in the article the Ottoman Empire during the fifteenth and sixteenth century was very much ahead of its time.

Dummy me, I had gotten the impression that Venice needed to lead Turkey by the hand, showing Turkey how to become progressive in her thinking.

Would somebody go behind me and read this link? It's really, really interesting.

No matter how unpromising the title, there is something of peculiar interest in every chapter. The murderer is after all an artist, and every picture must have its story. We get both in Chapter 23, the painter

'...having dipped my reed pen into black Hasan Pasha ink and skated it over well-burnished and beautifully-sized paper.'

What a sight it must have been for the Frank or Venetian traveler to come to Istanbul. Little wonder that he would want to take home a 'book of costumes', something like the colorful dozen Istanbulites painted for him by the same master artist who has painted the horse, the coin, and death for Enishte's secret book.

It seems fitting that the jinn-plagued artist should be driven into the streets to seek a balm for his guilt-ridden soul. He does better. While giving the reader a tour of Istanbul, the artist, after much walking, leaves his soul and his fears behind, finding peace in the bleakest parts of the city, in neighborhoods abandoned by men, and even by the omnipresent specters and jinns.

The murderer, in his own Koranic Night Journey, revisits the Hell of the Scriptures, and acknowledges his fear of Allah, always a first step on the way to redemption. What a haven of rest and 'blessed feeling' he finds in the old, ruined Kalendari dervish lodge, with its 'lingering scent of one-hundred-year-old incense and mold.'

It's a sorry tale of the murderer's change of mind about Elegant Effendi. His pathetic ruminations make it obvious that Pamuk has confused him as much as he has the reader. Or is it a murderer's reasoning which seeks a new victim?

Which leads to Chapter 24, in which Death, through the mouth of the storyteller in the coffeehouse, soon makes it clear that he, Death, is being used to tempt the artist into painting in a way that would be offensive to the old masters of Herat, and blasphemous to Allah.

But just look at the picture we get of Enishte Effendi:

a 'tall, thin, and mysterious old man'

a 'refined and enthusiastic old man'

a 'sly and calculating old man'

a 'devilish old man'

a 'wily old man'

a 'mad old man'

'an impassioned old man'

Until, finally, the artist/murderer feels that he has been 'cunningly duped by the old man into depicting Death in a manner that would terrify whoever laid eyes on' the 'I am' of Death.

With a shudder one realizes that the old man's fate has been sealed.

All because he, Enishte wanted to get himself into the picture!!! Thanks Joan. I hadn't noticed THAT twist until you pointed it out.

Thanks to all, for observations and insights. It's difficult to acknowledge them all. But they don't go unappreciated. They do go into ones thinking. Especially the questions asked. Look for indirect answers.

Thanks Pat, for the new quotation in the heading. Isn't that descriptive. And scary. I feel I'm getting to know Istanbul. I knew nothing, except for the fact that the Maltese Falcon made a stopover there once.

so much to do so little time.

For now I want to concentrate on Pamuk's book and read, see the impressions I get from it without searching too much. That is because unlike all the other books I read, I need to re-read a chapter many times and each time I discover something more in it. No fast reading here.

I have to travel to J'lem for the whole day tomorrow. I bet I'll have lots of catch up to do on my return. lol Have fun! Bubble

P.S. Does Black paint mainly in black?

JoanP you said, "Which just goes to show that not only did Enishte see the the rich and famous, having their unique faces portrayed in portraits and public art, he also saw PAINTERS having their portraits done," based only on, it seems, your seeing the painter in one fresco.

Could you elaborate on this, is this something that artists of the West, or Italian school, commonly did, painted themselves into their paintings? Would someone necessarily know this, having seen limited Italian art, not personally meeting the painters? My mother says it was fairly common at the time in Italian art, still, would a visitor know this, or learn this soley from looking at the paintings that Mom calls "10,000 pictures paintings?"

Curiosity. I don't think it's relevant to the book.

I'm not finding the detailed hunt for the murderer useful or interesting in reading Pamuk--it's detracting me from enjoying the book, and I'm missing huge historical insights, like Osmanli, Osman, the grand feeling of moving around in these ancient cities.

Found a book on the Ottoman Empire that looks fascinating in bookstore the other day: Caroline Finkel's Osman's Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire.

(resized)

Kleo

Kleo,

Thank you for mentioning this book. My interest in the Ottoman Empire has been awakened. I would really love to read a good book about the subject. This one is going on my list immediately. Thank you.

I bet your mother is very interesting. Is it possible for her to come and talk to us? Just kidding.

Hats, yes my interest is high, now. I just got a book on the economic history of the Ottoman Empire, which I'll read first, then I'm on to this other one. It might be a fun nonfiction read in here. I think that Pamuk is trying to show us how much of the history of the Ottoman Turks is as much part of the history of the world as it is of the history of the Persians, as the Persians are the history of the Ottoman Empire. I think he's succeeding.

Mom called them "10,000 people pictures," I see my quote is wrong up there. She said some of them probably contain whole villages, how could the artist keep the patron out of the picture when there are so many individuals in them? Maybe it was a scam to get more money. It makes me think of the Chinese warriors and how individual each one is.

I didn't put together, until I saw Finkel's book, even though I know that the Eastern name for the Ottoman Empire is Osmanli, that the Osman in the book is one of THE Osmans.

I was looking back on the parables on style, the second one, Ba, and I realize part of what the author is doing that captures me and makes me go back and reread the chapters over and over with new eyes each time, is that the stories mimic the miniatures mimic the characters mimic life in the old days mimic life in the modern time mimic art mimic stories once told mimic the new mimic the old. It's a story about life.

Kleo

Jonathan said" All because he, Enishte wanted to get himself into the picture!!! Thanks Joan. I hadn't noticed THAT twist until you pointed it out.

Can either of you please tell me where you got this? Moi is lost on this point.

In rereading, I am seeing many things I missed. Anyone else have this happening? Sometimes I see a movie for the second time and wonder, "What planet was I on when this was happening the first time I saw this?"

Yup, Scootz, many times. In fact, I'm rereading every chapter at least once, some 2 or 3 times. It's new every time.

Kleo

Scootz and Kleo,

I am seeing something different everytime I go back and reread. I love it. Scootz, I love the way you put it, about being on another planet.

Kleo,

I am glad your interest in the Ottoman Empire is more intense too. A nonfiction discussion would make a wonderful discussion, in my eyes.

I would like to read about the Ottoman Empire too. Cenk obviously has a lot of information and occasionally I pump him and he has told me a lot of fascinating little stories. He learned a lot about the Ottoman Empire in school.

Carolyn

At times what we learn in college does not live for us until we are adults and out of the classroom. As adults there is time to learn and delve into a subject as deeply as we wish. Forty five minutes in a classroom and maybe six three hour courses and exams to study for does not give us the quality time to focus on one particular interest. Plus, as the world scene changes our interest change.

Today, Iran is back in the news. Just hearing the talk about a nuclear bomb, Russia's involvement, etc. intensifies interest in that part of the world. If you love to read, you find yourself wanting to read a whole nonfiction book on the subject.

Remember "commencement" means the beginning of your education or the continuing of education, not the end of education.

Sometimes, when I remember that this is a mystery, I get the feeling that we might have been better off starting in the middle of the book...working toward the opening chapters and then toward the end.

That is to say...I'm not sure that Chapter 1 is the beginning at all.

Have we already considered this possibility?

Also, I thought I read somewhere in the book that the Corpse didn't know who the Murderer was. I've just re-read chapter 1 because I was sure I had read that they did know each other.

Now I'm wondering where the information came to my mind that the Corpse was snuck up on from behind...how could the Murderer have seen the Corpse's eyes from behind.

Oh dear me...I hope I'm not totally confused and not being totally redundant!

Is anyone else thinking of Enishte Effendi as a possible suspect for the murder? Not that I think he could pull it off himself physically but he did have a lot of influence over the miniaturists who were involved in helping him on the book for the sultan who might have been 'convinced' that it would be a good thing to help him 'eliminate' a possible exposer.

Alliemae

I am thinking of Black as a suspect for the murder. Doesn't Black tell Shekure's little boy about two murders he committed at some point.

Maybe I am all mixed up too.

Hats, I had thought of Black too...thought maybe he did it for Enishte and for Enishte's approval. In fact, I was thinking that might have been the only reason Black came back after all that time.

But now after their recent conversations I'm in doubt again.

Wait...maybe he came back after receiving the letters from his uncle giving all the family (especially his daughter's) news and even some hints about the problems with the book and he did it for Enishte but Enishte doesn't know it and that's why Enishte is so preoccupied with the murder of Elegant...and is even concerned about his own possible murder.

Oh dear...well, we'll see eventually!!

Alliemae

Unpack your satchel, Esther. We're eager to buy. Those embroidered washcloths are pretty. And, like Hasan, we're waiting, expecting news from you.

We're still wondering how the storyteller could know so much about Enishte Effendi. Do you know anything about that? Did Enishte try to enlist the storyteller as scriptwriter for his book, before deciding on Black? The storyteller seems too eager to tell stories about the pictures.

The murderer seems to think Enishte drives a hard bargain. Like the Armenian, over the 'book of costumes' (see ch 23). Perhaps Enishte just didn't care for the coffeehouse stories.

Nothing, however, could be finer, and funnier, than Esther's reading-other-peoples'-mail stories.

And how much more entertaining to hear about the exotic wares in her many satchels, than to hear what's going on in a murderer's head.

How different to walk the busy streets of Istanbul with Esther, than to slink about in the dark corners of a haunted city with that creepy murderer.

'Creepy' would also, however, fit the house of Shekure's father-in-law:

'The house is so dark that each time I visit, I feel as if I've entered a tomb. Shekure never asks what they're up to, but I always make a point of carping about the place so she won't even consider returning to this crypt. It's hard to imagine that lovely Shekure was once mistress of this house and that she lived here with her rascally boys. Within, it smelled of sleep and death. I entered the next room, moving farther into the blackness.... Hasan appeared out of the darkness and snatched the letter from my hand...'

Nevertheless, devoted to Shekure's best interests, Esther still thinks it smart to keep an open line between Shekure and Hasan, to keep each informed about the feelings of the other. Black's appearance on the scene has turned Esther into a confused matchmaker. It's curiously endearing how she gets involved in the lives of her clients. Her 'daughters'. And she likes Black, obviously.

'When I turned onto Black's street, my heart quickened. Did I want Shekure to marry this man? I've succeeded both in keeping Shekure involved with Hasan and, at the same time, in keeping them apart. But what about this Black? He seems to have both feet on the ground in all respects except with regard to his love for Shekure.'

What a lot of matter for comment in this chapter. Such great comedy in seeing these letters going from hand to hand.

This discussion can't be much more than a once-over lightly. The way I see it, if we want to get through the book by the end of the month.

Kleo, that Caroline Finkel book caught my interest too. OSMAN'S DREAM: The Story of the Ottaman Empire 1300-1923. I read a good review of it in The Times Literary Supplement, in January.

I'm confused about all the Osmans. I believe the Osman in our book was The Osman, the artist. The Osmans in the title seem to be of the Sultans.

The same TLS also had a review of Andrews and Kalpakli's: The Age of the Beloveds, Love and the beloveds in early-modern Ottoman and European culture and society.

This review says the following:

'In their examination of Ottoman love poetry, Andrews and Kalpakli return us to the world of artists, intrigue and patronage of Orhan Pamuk's MY NAME IS RED...'

Interesting isn't it. Pamuk gives us a world of historical lore.

KLEO, a painter's (unobtrusive) presence in one of the pictures he painted might be (very) loosely compared with, for example, Alfred Hitchock's cameo appearances in some of his films. It's an interesting point, an artistic curiosity, but not relevant to Pamuk's story, as you already suggested.

This week's chapters do answer some questions but increase the suspense by a notch, raising even more speculation. Pamuk is determined to continue spinning out the story until the very end, deliberately (I think) misleading anxious readers, playing cat-and-mouse with them.
But Black, as best I can make out, can not be suspected of murdering Elegant for the simple reason that Elegant's murder was caused by circumstances in which Black had no part, having only just returned from twelve years in "amorous exile". Vanity, greed, jealousy, not to forget hubris, were simmering long before Black's return to Istanbul.

So far the reader has not met the Sultan personally, directly, yet. What we know is reported by the Enishte and told to Black, who may or may not hear everything accurately (since he is listening to the sounds of the house). Strictly speaking, it is hearsay. We must hear both sides.

That reminds me of our Latin professor, way back when bickering or strife, which happen in an all girls high school, carried over into the classroom. He would then gently tell us audiatur et altera pars = listen also to the other side; let's see what the other side has to say. It worked every time.

HATS, "Leap of Faith : Memories of an Unexpected Life" by Queen Noor was discussed here and can be found in the Archives.

There are wonderful lines about Istanbul in Edmond Taylor's "The Fall of The Dynasties: The Collapse of The Old Order 1905-1922" in Chapter 6, some of which may be worth quoting.

JONATHAN, I agree, we must press on. Time is of the essence. There's now a feeling of urgency in the story and we must keep reading, even if not everything that happens is instantly comprehensible. The book is truly a tour de force.

Excuse my interuption of this wonderful discussion.

Jonathan, I'm trying to reach you by email about some volunteer information. Would you please email me (marcie@hq.seniornet.org) so that I can reply to your email and maybe then it will get through. Thank you!

Hi Traude,

I know "Leap of Faith" is in the Archives. I just thought the header to the Archive discussion interesting. The header gave wonderful details about the Ottoman Empire.

Alliemae,

We will see eventually. I think your points make a whole lot of sense. The wait is exciting.

I am going to spend time rereading posts and catching up on some reading. Everyday I will also read Jonathan's chapter outlines which are fun and exciting to read. I just won't post for awhile. I have some catching up to do.

Well, has anyone else thought that perhaps Shekure's husband is going to show up? I keep expecting it, and yes, also wondering if he's the murderer.

Kleo- I can't imagine reading this book and not being interested in whodunit! LOL Each to their own, I guess. My feeling is opposite yours, and I get distracted by all the art stuff- over and over.

We are going to finish this book by month's end? Please help me here. I was doing the reading schedule, and then slowed back because no one else was seemingly doing so. So, are we now doing up to chapter 49 this week? It's not a problem- but I do like to know. I'm like that.

WOW!!!!!

That was a STUNNER!!

It NEVER entered my mind...

Scootz...that would really add another fly to this 'macassar oil', wouldn't it!!

WOW!!!!!

Alliemae

Sorry about my posting to Scootz but that just left my jaw dropped down to my chest for a moment or two!

I'll be good now and get back to reading and stop posting for a bit!!

It's difficult when the discussion is as fascinating as this one has been.

Alliemae

Alliemae, no apoloogies needed. You're good as is. JUst continue as always. It will be interesting to see if the husband does show up. Does he have a name?

Re: The schedule -- the weekly readings will insure that we do finish the book this month, weeks beginning as follows -- 3/1, 3/8, 3/15, 3/22, with a few days left for wrap-up. Jonathan's wonderful focus on the two chapters per day ensure that we don't miss anything. There's lots to enjoy here. Let's enjoy it.

Thanks, pedln! I better get going again.

"Time is of the essence." (Traude)

Sorry about my posting to Scootz but that just left my jaw dropped down to my chest for a moment or two!

I'll be good now .

Is it not ok here to be emotive in posts? I am confused (and it has happened a few times already) by people apologizing and I can't understand why. Did I miss some sort of rule re posting?

I hope I'm no being offensive- I am genuinely curious and don't want to unwittingly do something wrong here.

Scootz, and others -- you can be as emotive or unemotive as you wish, no apologies necessary. Basically the guidelines here are to treat others in the discussion as you would like to be treated. It's okay to disagree as long as it's done considerately. I look upon these discussions as a conversation, with much give and take among many, listening and paying attention when others speak.

One other request, which I think everyone has been following, is that for technical reasons, we prefer links to outside sources, rather than cutting and pasting lots of material within a post. Judging by the terrific links on the page in the heading, you all have been abiding by that.

If you have not yet used it, the printer friendly option (top right hand corner of the page) provides an easy quick way to scroll through messages without having to click "next" or "previous" and scroll the heading on each page. Give it a try.

ALLIEMAE, I did not mean to be presumptuous but was merely echoing JONATHAN who said in # 388

"This discussion can't be much more than a once-over lightly. The way I see it, if we want to get through the book by the end of the month."

To heighten our appreciation of Pamuk's devotion and obvious pride in Turkey's glorious past and his native city, allow me to quote excerpts from Edmond Taylor's "The Fall of The Dynasties".

July 23, 1908 is a national Turkish holiday : on that day Sultan Abdul Hamid II yielded to an ultimatum from a junta of military revolutionaries - the so-called Young Turks - and proclaimed a constitution. The reform "put an end to seven centuries of Oriental, semitheocratic despotism in an empire, once the largest West of the Great Wall, which stretched astride three continents from the Danube to the Indian Ocean, and from the Caucasus to the shores of Tripoli. ...
In those days Istanbul, a disheveled but gleaming cluster of cities and suburbs scattered between Europe and Asia along the hilly shores of the Bosporus and the inland Sea of Marmora ... was a fascinating jumble of East and West, of seediness and magnificence, but no doubt more Oriental and more opulent than it is today. Along with the slender needles of its minarets and the domes of its mosques, there was more of a slatternly grace of the old Turkish quarters, spared by fire and progress, with their tall, narrow houses jutting over cobblestone streets, and their windows grilled with blue or green wooden lattice work. The street scene, even on normal days, was a vivid and exotic human tapestry, as it could hardly fail to be in the capital of an empire almost wholly made up of "minorities" at every stage of cultural development, ranging from the fierce Druse tribesmen of the Lebanon mountains or the desert Bedouins in their ragged, flowing robes, through the swarthy Anatolian peasant in his billowing trousers - the only authentic Turk of them all ..." (pp. 97-98)
Thank you for your indulgence.

So, Jonathan --"the artist/murderer feels that he has been 'cunningly duped by the old man into depicting Death" -- you think that the one who painted Death is the murderer? Did the same artist paint Dog and Tree too?

I don't know that we have met the artist of Death yet. Death refers to him as follows:

Young master miniaturist

Beautiful eyes, stunning-eyed

sure-handed

Had never seen a picture of death, "must draw it 1000 times and I cannot put my mastery aside"

Death refers to him as a young man, a youth

He regretted his picture

He now roams the streets endlessly each night in fits of regret

There is a young man who has been mentioned in earlier chapters, perhaps a boy --Mahmet, Numret, I can't remember his name. He works with one of the three -- Butterfly, Stork, Olive. Pamuk is indeed leading us on a merry chase.

Marcie, I'm sorry. I've been too busy to check my mail.

'How beautiful she is, that dark-eyed melancholy girl of mine', Esther says in her Chapter 25, 'burning with love. She's gone clear out of her mind, the poor girl' and thus promising the Song of Songs chapter that follows.

I'll let someone else comment on the wonderful things that Shekure makes happen in Chapter 26. It's far too exquisitely erotic for my palpitating heart in my tightening chest. But the part about manipulating dreams is interesting and down to earth. It would, no doubt, leave Freud gasping.

'Let me describe for you' Shekure says, 'how our embrace might've been dipicted by the masters of Herat, if this tragic story of mine were one day recorded in a book.'

What follows is a truly poetic miniature in the Turkish manner, ending with:

'And when Black and I embraced, well-being flooded the world in the very same manner.'

'Such well-being never lasts for long', Shekure concludes, as she comes back to earth with a wretched thump.

I am coming to the conclusion that subtlety, manipulation, and a cultural love affair with the dramatic and tragic romance poetry of old are essential elements of the people of this time. Everyone is subtle. Everyone attempts to attain their goals thru' manipulation of others. Romantic relationships must include suffering for love's sake, feminine coyness, and wild lustiness.

Who was it that was asking about the significance of the lack of shadows in miniaturist painting? I hadn't really thought about it until the question was asked. (Nothing like a good question to get one wondering.) Anyhoo, my thought is that miniaturists deliberately avoided introducing realism into their art. There work was to illustrate a story, not imitate real life.

Obviously, we are seeing evidence of a religious bias against painting real, living people. Too prideful, too indicative of a desire to be admired. Oddly enough, shadows bring a picture to life, emphasizing and bringing forth the images. I first realized his doing crossstitch, seeing the difference between the work with and without the outlining and shadowing.

I don't believe Black said he 'murdered' two people. He said he had killed two people. Given his extensive travels and the prevalence of banditry in many places. I assumed that he had killed in self-defense.

How I would love to be present when Esther spread open her pack! With a full purse, of course! I want some of the silk, blue and green. (The popularity of red and purple, espl. in combination, I find wholly incomprehensible.)

Babi

Pedln,

"I Am Death" is really hard for me to understand. I am glad you broke the chapter down.

The miniaturist regrets drawing death. I think that is what stood out to me. I feel his drawing of death is an ending to his career. Since he has succeeded in drawing the unthinkable, unpenetrable, invisible, what else is there for this master miniaturist to draw? Is this why he is sad?

I totally did not understand why he thinks "he has become what he has drawn."

Traude,

Thank you for sharing your quote.

Babi,

Thank you for explaining about the people involved with Black. "Self defense" does make sense.

Now I can understand the shadow idea too.

Is death the murderer?

Thanks, Jonathan. I know this intriguing discussion is keeping you busy!

Would you please email me (marcie@hq.seniornet.org) if you do not find the previous email message from me. I need your responses on the form (the link is in the email) as soon as possible. Thank you!

Yes, I knew that. I'm sorry to have singled you out. I just have a problem losing posts when I try to go to 'previous' posts when I am posting...

I would never think of implying that anyone was being presumptuous; that would be presumptuous of me.

Carolyn,

I would like to hear Cenk's "fascinating" stories too.

"Kleo- I can't imagine reading this book and not being interested in whodunit! LOL Each to their own, I guess. My feeling is opposite yours, and I get distracted by all the art stuff- over and over." Scootz

Scootz, it amazes me how two people, you and I and others in here in particular, respond in much the same way to the same lines in the same book, AHA! the murderer, but are taking entirely different journeys through the book. I bet there are more diverse journeys through this book than there are folks in here discussing it, just by our readings.

It's not the art stuff I like, although I like that because I like hearing about the colors, because I tend to see colors when I read books anyhow. What I like are the human stories and the style of telling. Which brings me to:

"I am coming to the conclusion that subtlety, manipulation, and a cultural love affair with the dramatic and tragic romance poetry of old are essential elements of the people of this time. Everyone is subtle. Everyone attempts to attain their goals thru' manipulation of others. Romantic relationships must include suffering for love's sake, feminine coyness, and wild lustiness." BaBi

Like Indian and Pakistani soap operas maybe?

This is not an element of the people of the time, the people who live there today, maybe not in Turkey, but I've seen nothing of the few Turks I know to convince me otherwise, live life in much the same way. Well, so do Westerners, we just do it differntly, and it seems so overt when reading about it in this revealing "Eastern" style, which takes just the major part and glitzes it up in fine red inks and black outlines and gold edges.

The Edmond Taylor book looks interesting. "Slatternly" is a strange word that has attracted me all my life, yet the author uses it so casually, without the double entendre--or does he?

Kleo

HATS, when 'Death' said the miniaturist had "become what he had drawn", I took that to mean the murderer. Now I'm watching for clues as to which of the miniaturists may have been the painter of 'Death'. Butterfly is still my prime suspect, but that may be the author leading me astray.

It occurs to me that nothing much is said about Olive; he stays in the background of the story. Do you suppose that means he is the real killer, and we are all being led away from him? If so, I will probably yell "No fair!!" when all is revealed. <bg>

Babi

KLEO, we were posting at the same time. I love your comment about Indian and Pakistani soap operas! A very apt comparison, IMO.

Babi

I found the chapt. "I am Death" the most interesting so far. Pamuk is showing that something unites all peoples:

"The Venetians measure a miniaturists prowess by his ability to discover novel subject matter and techniques that have never been before used" insisted the old man arrogantly.

"Venitians die like Venitians" said the illustrator who would soon draw me.

"All our deaths resemble one another" said the old man.

This conversation , in my mind, does not move the plot forward as much as it is a discourse on art and life. The thinking between the traditional religous fundamentalists and those who have a broader view of the world. The wise old man has forced the illustrator to broaden his outlook and imitate the perspective of the Franks which includes shadow and perspective; two elements that are usually connected to death ,wether in art or poetry.

Then Pamuk broadens the thought even further by showing how this experience has changed the painter... made him beleive, that like certain CHINESE masters, he has become what he has drawn.

In other words he has trespassed on a religous code that he was taught to follow. Although the subject is Art it really is about people stuck in certain belief patterns . Breaking those rules has consequences for the person and for society at large.

This brings us back to the murder as a Moral issue. "Death is no laughing matter". Pamuk writes. Murder is even less of a laughing matter.

Wow!

Judy

Vanessa said even today Turks are quite emotional and quite dramatic. It was one thing she really noticed when she was in a room full of Turkish nationals. When they argue, to the outsider, it seems very over the top and one would think relationships would be seriously damaged but five minutes after a very loud argument the protagonists are friends again. Cenks godfather will have a big row with his two old cronies and they will all go home furious then the next day they are back together playing checkers as if nothing has happened. Checkers and water pipes are a big thing with the Turkish older men.

Carolyn

Babi, the painter of 'Death' also admits to painting the Horse and the Coin. (p122) So that makes two more pictures that might reveal something to identify the murderer. I still expect muddy shoes, oily hair and toothmarks to show up. But that wouldn't suit the subtlety of Pamuk's style that you've mentioned. Nothing is plain in this book.

The miniaturist who was asked to paint Death seemed very reluctant. Did Enishte drive him to it, by implying that it would be liberating in an artistic sense for the miniaturist? Or was Enishte contemplating, anticipating his own death with morbid curiousity? Maybe we'll never know.

There's a great treat in store for us tomorrow. The macabre is always followed by something real and understandable in this book. Chapter 27 has to be the most unusual lovers' tryst in any literature. This is clever, sophisticated writing. Who is going to start with this one?

Marcie, I'm sorry. I seldom use my email acct. I checked it out just now and found endless solicitations from banks all over America. I can't imagine why they would think they could do business with me. I'm not aware of any debts. I haven't dealt with Chase Manhattan in 50 years. The others I don't even recognize. Some may be offshore.

So I hesitate to send anything from the acct. What is it you wish to know?

Jonathan, will you please go to the Books Volunteers forum and I'll leave a link for you there.

Shevket tells his mother Black killed his father. This news upsets Shekure. Black did not mention Shekure's husband's name or Shevket's father's name. I suppose this is just the way a child puts his own pieces to a puzzle. What if Black did kill Shekure's husband while he was gone? It definitely would change his relationship with Shekure and the boys. It would also get Hasan all fired up. We just do not know the names of the two men Black admits to killing.

Shekure, in a way, leads an exciting life. If her husband returns, he will want her back, Shekure admits to loving affection for Hasan. She also has feelings for handsome Black. This one woman is wanted by three men. Is Shekure enjoying this situation or is she confused by the whole situation?

I don't trust Hakire. She seems to spend most of her time eavesdropping. I do not know whether she is a true friend to Shekure.

Judy's comments and all the other comments about "I Am Death" really helped me get through that chapter. I think Enishte is trying to make peace with his death. Which miniaturist drew "death?" Was it Butterfly, Stork or Olive? Whoever worked on death was left a bit unsettled. If someone asked me to draw "death" how would I feel?

Sometimes authors like to stop midway in their books and give long dissertations about death. Maybe artistic people are more aware of their own mortality. I think Tolstoy wrote quite a bit about death in Anna Karenina.

I did not understand why Shekure sent a blank note to Black. Was it just to let him know she was willing to hear from him?

Shekure puts on a red vest. Shevket asks her why she is wearing it? Is there anything I should know about the red vest? Is there some religious meaning for wearing a red vest?

Oh, I have the impression that Shekure is not exactly delighted with her father's fascination with the Venetian painters. She calls the Venetians infidels. If Shekure is not exactly happy about her father's fascination with the Venetian art, why is it so important to her that his book is finished? Is it because she wants anything that will make her father happy? Is it to please the Sultan?

A thought here this AM and then I am off for a golf "member/member" tournament, followed by lunch.

Hats- Shekure appears to love the one she's with - I wonder if she knows the one she loves.
My grandmother used to say "any port in a storm will do" and Shekure is in a tempest, at this stage of her life.

Alf, Shekure is in a tempest. I feel sorry for her. It was really shocking to hear Hasan talk about going to her home with a bunch of men to remove her. Shekure is carrying a lot on her shoulders.

Thanks pedln. Coming into an established group can sometimes be tricky. Each group has their own particular style, expectations. I want to be sure I don't ruffle any feathers unwittingly.BTW- I am using the printer friendly thingy you suggested and love it! Thanks for that tip. We newbies need those.

Kleo- re each of us having a different experience with the book. This is why I will never get into an argument over what I am seeing in a book vs someone else. We do all bring our own experiences to a read. It's interesting to hear other's reactions, but we all have our own, I think. I don't know if you ever did a B&N group with Alice Hoffman, but she was delightfully open in this respect. So refreshing! I get just a smidge frustrated when anyone thinks they have the only one answer to a book.

Hats- I also found "I Am Death" to be a difficult chapter. I've read it four times and I'm done. LOL I think I've absorbed all I'm going to from that chapter. It seems contradictory to me in spots. Not gonna worry about it. Onward!

Which chapters are today? I need to circle back and reread them and comment.

Scootz,

I love Alice Hoffman. I have many favorite authors. She is one of my favorites. Her writing is magical.

JONATHAN, what chapter(s) are we currently discussing ? When is it appropriate to mention new revelations, i.e. the second murder and the progress of the love story (if that is what it is) ?

"I get just a smidge frustrated when anyone thinks they have the only one answer to a book." Scootz

Well, everyone has only one answer to a book, their own answer. But book clubs are to hear others' answers, responses, feelings about a book, in addition to sharing your own. However, I get more out of hearing others' than my own.

It's fun what I connect with with others, seeing how the author deftly manipulates us to thinking each character is the murderer with a single line or two.

I was thinking about Traude's comment about the urgency. The author does seem to impart a sense of urgency to finish the book, find out who murdered whom with the candlestick in the kitchen. At the same time many of us are rereading chapters.

Kleo

Well, everyone has only one answer to a book, their own answer. But book clubs are to hear others' answers, responses, feelings about a book, in addition to sharing your own.

Of course you're right- and I agree . My frustration (just so you don't misunderstand) is when a person argues that their interpretation is the only correct one. If we agree that all of us bring something different to the book, it must follow that no one answer is the only correct one. .

I don't find that here on this site and doubt I will but I have encountered it in book groups. I didn't mean to imply it happened here. And sorry to go on about this, but I felt misunderstood. If I wasn't- my mistake.

Scootz books are like visual art, in the case of a book each reader will have a different slant on the book. I feel too that in most cases there are no right answers in an interpretation. I listened to an author being interviewed the other day on National Radio and he said he was astounded at some of the theories readers had about his book and the way they found meanings that he no way had in mind when he wrote it. So I think that does prove that everyone sees a book in a different way much as one views a work of abstract art.

Carolyn

'When it comes to love, any port in a storm will do.'

Thanks for the thought, Andy.

No doubt Andy is giving it a lot of thought as she plays the links. Can there be any doubt about who Shekure loves? First, last, and always, it's the boys. Finding a father for them is her top priority.

Did Black kill the boys' father? Perhaps. It seems to me Black was only boasting to impress the boys when he 'admitted' to killing two men. Their father was a soldier who killed men and brought home the trophies. Black was a secretary and tax-collector. That would not be much of an image for the boys.

Shekure can work up a passion, but she never loses her head. Black admits that even the 12-year-old Shekure always seemed to know more than he did. The love-tryst in Chapter 27 quickly turns into talk that sounds like marriage contract and conditions. And talk about the boys.

I thought it was pretty clear that two chapters a day had us humming through the book, with the daily chapter numbers under discussion being twice the day of the month. Today being the 14th, we should be reading chapters 27 and 28.

Almost everything is worth reading and rereading. Puzzling over this or that can be mighty interesting, but Pamuk has deliberately made it all very byzantine, to keep us in the dark, even contradicting himself on small things. But being consistent in a book of fiction must be very difficult. He's obsessed with shadows, like his characters. Enishte definitely lives in a world of shadows. He's a mysterious man. No one quite trusts him.

Looking for the murderer does carry one along, to the point of compulsive preoccupation. But, imo, seeing and detecting the fear of Allah in the lives of the artists is just as exciting. Just look how the strange story of Sheikh Muhammad of Isfahan haunts the imagination of the murderer (ch28,p156-7). It's impressive that the Sultan is sometimes referred to as the Shadow of Allah on earth. And Nusret Hoja, that man in yet other shadows must be Allah's sword.

Scootz, don't hesitate to express your ideas about the book. Don't allow your feathers to get ruffled. In all my years here I don't remember anyone insisting adamantly on their version of anything in a book. Forceful expression of opinion is probably only meant as pepper or spice to the discussion.

Carolyn- Thanks!

Jonathan- daily chapter numbers under discussion being twice the day of the month

Now that's what I call organized- and mathematical, too !! LOL

Does anyone know if there is a particular significance to the color red for Islam?

After just reading chapter 37 (which is a beaut, btw) I feel sure there must be one. I've googled it and can't find anything. Has this been mentioned ?

Ok, back to chapters 27 and 28.

27-only thing of note to me here is Shekure's continued use of Black to finish her father's book. I can't tell if she truly has any feelings for him beyond that. And I wonder if she knows herself.

28- the meeting between the murderer and Eshente

Of particular note to me is the murderer asking Eshente this quesion- " Might one be capable of making blasphemous art without being aware of it?

I get the feeling this is precisely what has occured. None have seen that final page in its entirety,only parts of it, and if they did, they'd no doubt be questioning their participation in the book.Eshenete is the Mother of all dupers, imho.

And how about that inkpot- which is specifically for red.??

Ah, me. Shekure has thrown another curve. Spying on her Father and Black, she comes to the conclusion that Black's interest in her was not "eternal", and that he is simply ready to marry. There could be some truth in that. Black is so caught up in his great romance, I think it is that which holds him more than the object of it all.

Well, he wouldn't be the first to marry for that reason. They are both playing "love chess".

I would like to hear what some of you make of the distinction between 'truth' and 'sincerity'. I thought I understood it until Black started explaining it! To my Western mind, it simply means that while what I say may be truthful, it may not be said in all sincerity. For example, I may be avoiding the real issue with a diversion. Or saying something merely to be polite, yet not be speaking an untruth. I'm sure someone can come up with a better examples.

Babi

Babi, I think you answer the question very well yourself.

Black's answer does seem ambiguous, but remember that he's trying to wriggle out of a very embarrassing situation, after getting such an earful from Shekure for not behaving like a gentleman in his romancing.

But as usual, as with other things, Black's curious distinction is being used by the author for other purposes, meant to apply to the conflicts in the artists' lives, whether to paint what they see, and how they see, or to paint it the way Allah sees it.

Taken to an extreme, it would suggest living a lie. Not being honest with oneself. Serving an outworn creed hypocritically. IMO.

Scootz, really, you're reading Chapter 37? We don't get there until March 74. I think RED may just be a narrative device chosen by the author to have his epic hang together.

These Turkish painters seem to feel so much guilt about painting what will offend Allah. As the painters near their death, they destroy the paintings, hoping, I think, not to have to face Allah's anger. Our murderer, as others have said in earlier posts, is probably or most likely, Butterfly, Olive or Stork. Is it guilt which drives the murderer? Is the murderer trying to gain the good graces of Allah?

What do the Chinese and Persian paintings, illuminated manuscripts or miniatures have in common? Why are they linked together?

What is the Bukhari? How do you compare it to the Koran?

The person who destroyed the library of books reminded me of "The Shadow of the Wind." Did anyone else think of that book?

One more question. In the Islamic world today, do painters still have a fear of offending Allah by "creating" lifelike characters?

Scootz, really, you're reading Chapter 37? We don't get there until March 74. I think RED may just be a narrative device chosen by the author to have his epic hang together.

Seriously now, isn't this week three? and isn't our assignment chapters 35-49???? Pleasecorrect me if I'm wrong.

Chapter 27- please Shekure! "If you truly loved me (she says), passionately and obsessively, you'd try to control yourself like a gentleman."
Now come on- that is an oxymoron. Passion is sensuality and libidinous, girl. Poor Black is merely reacting to his sensual stimulations. She's baiting you man.
She wants his testimony that he witnessed the death of her husband. She (as all mothers would do) questions his admiration and love for the children. Then she pushes him and inquires what it is about the boys that he likes. Next -- she insists that Black assists in finishing her fathers book.
Black tells us that although the agony he suffered during his years of travel was
real, it wasn't the least bit sincere. Was this because he had grown up and now understands that his "agony" was but an emotion- something he was trying to perfect and not necessarily the truth?
Am I saying that right? Like the miniturists, sincerity does'nt emerge while they are painting the scene but through their moments of distress, mistakes and disgruntlement as they view what they are trying to paint. It's a letdown, the picture is imperfect. so is love (and lust.)

Alf, that's heavy. I think that's what young people use to say.

I couldn't rewrite your thoughts. So, I quoted you here. I hope it's alright.

"Like the miniturists, sincerity does'nt emerge while they are painting the scene but through their moments of distress, mistakes and disgruntlement as they view what they are trying to paint. It's a letdown, the picture is imperfect. so is love (and lust.)"

I guess what I'm trying to say is that a picture is the embodiement of detail.
The artist "sees" the picture as perfect in his mind's eye as he depicts the impression of what ever it is he wants to present.
It is not perfect, he realizes after he steps back from his creation, critiques it and views the imperfections in his achievment. It evolves as he labors.
He begins to see it as insincere, imperfect.
Whew, you're right Hats. Deep, profound. Hell, I'm not even an artist and I talk like I should sign on with our miniaturists.

hahahah, I just read that sentence to Bill and asked him if it made any sense to him. He looked at me over his glasses, patted my arm and said "the moon is full, you'll be OK in a couple of days."

Talk about profound. ahahahahahahahhhaaaaaaaaa

Alf, that's deep too!

My husband's name is Bill too. My Bill would give the same type of answer.

Scootz, I think it's important in any good book club to remind ourselves of how deeply people differ in their interpretations of a piece of literature every once in a while. Especially in a club with a lot of smart folks, smart, individualists, who keep meeting in the same place (Aha! he/she's the murderer)--no harm done to remember how far apart we are. I'm enjoying your posts immensely.

I just remembered something else while thinking about books! Hadn't the Gutenberg Press been around for over 100 years, and the good-enough quality inks and papers for mass-producing handbills (Martin Luther!!!!) had been around from at least the early 16th century. So, why are they still hand-making manuscripts in Istanbul, this modern city in the 16th century trying so hard to catch up (some of them) with the West?

These characters disdain the cheaply printed manuscripts for the masses. But these changed the world forever. Isn't this the real danger, that the manuscripts will no longer be solely for the rich sultans, that the stories, the poetry, the histories, will be for all to read? Oh, we shameful modernists.

Kleo

I think the reason they were still handmaking the books was because they still prized the handcrafting and illuminating of the books as an art form.

My thoughts keep turning toward Stork now as possibly the murderer.

Carolyn

Re #436 ("Seriously now") by SCOOTZ, I am in the same boat ~ I followed the reading schedule given in the header and therefore find myself now unwittingly ahead. Under the circumstances it is hard to react or respond to comments without giving anything away ...

What or who is Bukhari? was asked by Hats. It is an important question because there is a disagreement going on as to who has the correct interpretation of wether a painter will be punished by Allah on Judgement day.

Sahih Bukhari was a collector of sayings of the prophet Muhammed. He collected these sayings some 100 years after the death of the prophet. He spent 16 years on this project. These reports of the Prophets sayings and stories are known today as the" Hadith". The Hadith is considered holy by most, but not all, Muslims .

In the book, on page 160 (Chap. 28) the following conversation takes place: "Shah Tahmasp ..a amaster miniaturist...as his death approached ..destroyed his books and suffered interminable crises of regret. Why did they all beleive that painting would bar them from the gates of Heaven?"

"You know quite well why! Because they remembered Our Prophets warning that on Judgement Day, Allah will punish painters most severrly."

"not painters," corrected Enishte Effendi. "Those who make idols. And this not from the Koran but from Bukhari".

Again Pamuk is putting before us one of the themes of this book. Although he has written it as a murder mystery he is bringing to our awareness one of the glaring differences in the interpretation of the Koran. There are a number of Sects, even today , that differ deeply in their interpretations i.e. the Shiias and the Sunnis.

So as some of you were arguing about different interpretations of the same text perhaps, unconciously, the idea arose from Pamuk himself, who in many subtle ways is pointing out how the same circumstances can be interpreted so differently by dissimalar individuals.

Judy

This afternoon I made the mistake of reading my book while putting my feet up on the sofa. I was going over a chapter when I fell asleep. I had read another two chapters before I did succumb. This is not a book to lie down with!

Carolyn

Judy,

Thank you for giving a very clear answer to my question. Sahih Bukhari spent sixteen years collecting the Prophet's sayings. That's not a small amount of time, many years.

Carolyn,

That has happened to me many times.

I feel the same way. The beauty of the illuminated manuscript is extraordinarily beautiful because of its handwork.

Traude and Scootz,

You are good at keeping secret information. Now you know everything I want to know.

"...We agreed that if the Mongols hadn't brought the secrets of red paint--which they learned from Chinese masters--to Khorasan, Bukhara, and Herat, we in Istanbul couldn't make these paintings at all."

If I am understanding this exchange correctly, the red paint is a gift to the art world from China to the Ottoman Empire. Is it because the artists in Istanbul did not understand how to use the red paint due to its consistency? Is it because the color, red, was not to be found in the veins of rocks in Istanbul?

If "red" has nothing to do with the mystery of the murder, then, I feel, it does have something to do with the the world of the artist. I get the impression the color red was a rarity in the streets of Istanbul. Why else would Shekure's little boy make over the fact that his mother was wearing a "red vest?"

What is it about red? We relate red to dominance, boldness. We paint charicatures of the devil as red in the West.

What is the significance of the color red in the Ottoman Empire?

I feel so sad about the death of Enishte. What a horrible way to die. To know your murderer, to hold such a long conversation with him before he decides to take your life is so strange. I think of most murderers as people who do their deed quickly and run, not wanting to be seen by their victim or other people. I don't think the murderer went to Enishte's home with the intention of killing him.

Poor Shekure and the grandchildren. Shekure has lost her father The children have lost their grandfather.

I am enjoying Mrs. Sherlock's link to miniature paintings once again. It's amazing how art changes through time. I have heard it said that art, literature and history are locked hand in hand.

Hats-

Traude and Scootz,

You are good at keeping secret information. Now you know everything I want to know.

Well, it's not too hard really because each day here I just focus on the appropriate chapters and comment on those and other's posts. My reading, I just go ahead a few chapters and just repress it! LOL

As I said after that specific chapter (37), it did seem to me that there had to be a significance to red for Islam.

I'm not so sure how I feel about Eshente's death. He is, in actuality, the one who has set all this in motion. He surely knew what dangers he was flirting with- perhaps he was even prepared to die for this book.

Kleo,

I agree about Enshite knowing "what dangers he was flirting with.."I admired Enshite. Enshite, I felt, just became captivated with the realism the Venetians portrayed in their art. I think he fought a battle with himself, a fight against his spiritual self and a battle with his physical self or a battle between the secular and the sacred. Finally, Enshite, some might think, became a traitor to his religion. Others might feel good because he was truthful to himself. He decided to enjoy and finish what pleased himself.

The murderer seemed to be fighting the same battles. He also fought with guilt. I don't think Enshite suffered with guilt.

Without a doubt, Enshite knew the Secret Book could or would lead to his death. I feel he might have been shocked by the person who perpetrated the crime. I don't think he suspected this person would kill him.

Orhan Pamuk seems to deal with some of the emotions most humans battle.

1.guilt
2.Our feelings about death
3.Whether to please everybody or just ourselves

I am enjoying Jonathan's chapter outline. The monthly day multiplied by the chapter is a great menmonic.

Enishte slept behind the blue door. The blue door is always mentioned. Was this just to work up our suspense about what would happen behind the blue door or does the color blue have meaning too?

The murdered flung everything around in the room. Did he find the last page? Maybe I don't want to know the answer.

The murdered flung everything around in the room. Did he find the last page? Maybe I don't want to know the answer

My lips are sealed.

Read on, McDuff!

As to the blue door, I think Pamuk continually uses colors (as do artists) to heighten awareness.

Scootz,

I knew you would know the answer! Now you have my curiosity spiraling out of control.

Blue is the color which protects against evil eyes, against djiins and demons. So it would be good to be behind a blue door when one is deep in unconscious sleep.

Someone asked about why the book was still handwritten when printing was already known. The holy books, be it the Koran or the Torah, these books that are kept in the prayers homes - mosque or synagogues - are always handwritten, on scrolls, in the most beautifull hand. The scribe has to be attentive to each of the letters he forms and no mistake or erasure can be allowed, so that extra care is taken not to be distracted during that task. Only normal personal prayers books are printed. Bubble

Bubble said: Blue is the color which protects against evil eyes, against djiins and demons. So it would be good to be behind a blue door when one is deep in unconscious sleep

Interesting! How did you know this and is there a similar significance for red? Why would only blue be special?

I live in the Near East and the Arab population has the same beliefs. I have not noticed anything about the color red but then I am not that knowleadgeable on religious dictates. In China I know that RED is the color of joy and happiness: wedding invitations are usually printed on red cards and the color is very prominent on the bride. Bubble

Bubble, thank you. The blue door didn't protect Enishte from the evil eye. He was murdered. Am I missing something?

I bet the writing in those Holy books is very, very beautiful.

Well Bubble I guess then that you would know.

Forgive my question- I'm still learning about everyone here.

This comes near the end of the chapter, after he has described a whole world of art, the agony and the ecstasy of its creation, and the strange circumstances of its passing away.

What a magnificent swan song, these last words of an old man living with the thought of dying. His strange appeals to the murderer with moving sentiment, his anticipation of moving on. All by the same author who wrote chapter 27. Incredible.

How did you feel reading Chapter 29. I keep thinking of them as cantos. I'll admit to being enthralled by the beauty and the pathos. There is something about this book that puts it in a class by itself. So earthy and yet so sublime. One is made to shudder in the first chapter, and gets blown away in the last. That's giving it all away.

But, glory be. Enishte is brought back in Chapter 37, which one of us has already described as her favorite. One lives this book along with the speakers. And the quotables...

'forgetting the agony and seeking a gentle sleep'

'all was subsumed in a wondrous silence' (even the dogs have finally fallen silent)

the world is, after all, like some tight-fitting garment that pinches

hell, purgatory and paradise, in a dozen pages, including

a whole page of what to look for when you visit the Topkapi.

But, glory be. Enishte is brought back in Chapter 37, which one of us has already described as her favorite. One lives this book along with the speakers. And the quotables...

Jonathan,

Not giving anything away to say that I was reminded strongly of writings by Billy Graham describing what he expects his death to be like. Beautiful sensations and images in both writings.

There was a film some years back with Robin Williams (can't recall the name-anyone?) that didn't do well at the box office, but that was full, and I do mean full, of colors and was about the afterlife. Ah- here it is..."What Dreams May Come". I was also reminded of this film.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120889/

CAROLYN, you said you were beginning to think the murderer might be Stork, but you didn't say why. Come on, girl, explain!

Jon, I can't help feeling that thinking one can see things as Allah sees them is itself presumptuous. Surely it is more respectful to content oneself with painting what the human eye sees. Another example, of course, of difference in interpretation and understanding.

ALF, I love your Bill's sense of humor! I'm going to pass on that response, of course.

HATS believes there is something significant in Shekure wearing a red vest. Me, I just assumed she was dressing up in her best because she was meeting Black. Her sharp-eyed son, knowing Mom was putting on her best, was wondering why. Kids don't miss much, do they?

Some lines that I loved in the last couple of chapters, Enishe speaking:

"Every cleric with any ambition who's met with some favor and whose head has swollen as a result will preach that religion is being ignored and disrespected. This is the most reliable way to ensure one's living." Ouch! That brings a cleric or two to mind.

"A great painter does not content himself by affecting us with his masterpieces; ultimately, he succeds in changing the landscape of our minds."

I don't think I've ever heard a finer description of a masterpiece.

Babi

Babi,

I am sure you are right. Now I know why she was wearing that red vest.

Bubble, of course I know and listen strongly to all you have to say about across the sea and different countries. I call you a world traveller. I just had a question. After you explained about the Blue Eye, I should have not asked a silly question.Bubble knows I respect her deeply. She is my friend.

Hats, there are never silly questions, only sometimes silly answers!

Thinking about the color red, I seem to remember that clothes and material dyed red were very expensive long ago and there were some places were the wearing of them was restricted to royalty and high society people. I just can't remember if it included Turkey or not. Maybe someone with a better memory will know. Bubble

"The Hadith is considered holy by most, but not all, Muslims." I disagree. The Hadith is considered holy, the word of God through Muhammed, by only a very small minority of Muslims, not by mainstream Suni and Shia Muslims.

Muslims do not treat the Hadith the same way they treat the Koran, whatever any source tells you about its holiness. And how practicing Muslims treat the Koran, in Arabic, is a high indication of the difference between it and the Hadith and a couple of other interpretations of the Koran used by Muslims.

The Hadith is not carried sacredly into the brand new home before everything else, accorded its own shelf high above everything else in the home and in the store, is not wrapped preciously, does not require ritual cleansing before reading, is just as valid in translation, etc., etc. There is an exception to this, one of the very tiny sects of Islam considers the Hadith to be holy.

Kleo

"I think he fought a battle with himself, a fight against his spiritual self and a battle with his physical self or a battle between the secular and the sacred." Hats

Isn't this the story of the Ottoman Empire at this time?

Bubble, they are not talking about holy books such as the Koran being illustrated with all these magnificent scenes. This does bring up another point entirely related to the Gutenberg press and Martin Luther: the pamphlets for the masses, the religious books such as the Bible being translated in the common language for the first time. Again, removing the sphere of the holy from the hands of the priests to the masses. Expanding the sphere of the masses by bringing these worldly stories to them.

Education, a very dangerous thing.

Before the introduction of red dyes from the New World, the scarlet red from the insects that I mentioned earlier, bright reds, tomato reds were very expensive and unusual dyes. Madder red, the red in Persian carpets, carpets from all over, would be more common. I don't know if the color means anything else, though.

I still think the red is the symbol of the modern descending upon the Ottoman Empire.

Yes, I thought the blue was about the evil eye. And I thought it showed perfectly how one may want to be at the front of the world, in the midst of the Western revolutions of painting and knowledge, while one would want to remain safe and secure in one's own superstitions. Again, like Turkey.

Kleo

Hi Kleo-

Re:Hadith (I quote from an extremely accepted text "Religions of the World" by Breuilly, O"Brien and Palmer):"The stories and sayings known as Th Hadith are a source of guidance for Muslims where there is no specific guidance in the Qur'an. The combination of the Qur'an and the Hadith forms the basis of Islamic Law (Fiqh). An example is the Hadith related by Bukhari:

Anyone drawing pictures will be punished by Allah until he blows the spirit into that picture,and he will never be able to blow the spirit into it........draw things that have no spirit."

As in any religion there are large groups of people who differ from the mainstream in their customs and beleifs. I thought I made that clear in my post. Sorry you interpreted it differently.

The important point I wished to make is that Pamuk is intent on showing us how religous strife can cause misery and how that misery is reflected in the day to day lives of our characters.

The need of people to circumvent those religous edicts, especially those related to marriage , becomes apparent in chapters 32 and 33. It is not only Art that is under consideration in the book.

Judy

I'm not sure I interpreted that particular line any differently, as I was not discussing that line. To make it clear, I did QUOTE the line in your post I was discussing.

And there is no need to be sorry for how I interpret things versus how you do, as we all interpret things differently from each other, it's part of being human, being unique.

My point of disagreement was simply your comment, "The Hadith is considered holy by most, but not all, Muslims."

The line you quote from Religions of the World does not dispute this disagreement of mine: "the combination of the Qur'an and the Hadith forms the basis of Islamic Law (Fiqh)," nor does it support your statement that "the Hadith is considered holy by most, if not all, Muslims."

Muslims consider the Koran holy. Most Muslims treat the Koran very differently from how they treat the Hadith, by which I mean the physical book. They treat the Koran in a very different way from all other works because they specifically consider it to be holy, the true word of God. There is a minor sect of Islam that does consider the Hadith to be holy, and this sect of Muslims treats the Hadith in the same way as they treat the Koran, because they consider it also to be holy.

This is considering the Koran in its original Arabic.

Kleo

Stork prides himself on the traditional aspect of his work. He also says he is the most highly paid of all the artists. He has a very arrogant opinion of his own worth and seems to have had a disdain of Elegant and maybe even a little envy. Elegant was considered the best illuminator. I wondered if envy and also Stork's very strong belief about holding to the traditions of the craft may have prompted him to murder Elegant. Its just my opinion!

Pamuk likes to make a mystery of everything. Why is she dragging her father all over the house, while his soul is winging its way to the sweet bye-and-bye?

Shekure is so obviously planning something while she unburdens herslf to her listener. And what a close relationship she tries to establish with the listener. Looking for confirmation for her assertions about her innocence, for example? Getting everyone out of the house at the time of the murder could look strange to some.

My quote from this chapter would be the one Shekure offers by way of explaining what she remembers:

'As I would often do when I was upset and troubled, I recounted the tale not from memory, but improvising according to how I felt at the time. And since I colored it using a palette of my own memories and worries, what I recounted became a kind of melancholy illustration to accompany all that had happened to me.'

This chapter is as clear as mud, in trying to figure out what she's up to.

Babi, a good observation to say that trying to see as Allah sees might be seen as presumptuous. Spiritual hubris? How about the commandment to fear Allah. Isn't that servile?

Kleo, red as the symbol of the modern descending upon the Ottoman Empire is very suggestive of a theme in the book, but I think it would be stretching it. Besides, I believe it is mentioned somewhere that RED was something that came to them from the East, long ago, in the past. Venetian influence is the major foreign influence, but the influence of China is also mentioned from time to time.

That blue door is that way because Enishte wanted it that way. Shekure tells us, in this chapter I believe, that her father had decorated the whole house to please himself. The blue door, like the pomegranite tree, the coffeehouse, the house of the Hanged Jew are great down to earth locators in the novel. They do give the reader a sense of place. I can't see Enishte worrying about an evil eye.

The murderer says to Enishte, the Devil made me do it.

Enishte replies with, that's an old-wives tale.

"Kleo, red as the symbol of the modern descending upon the Ottoman Empire is very suggestive of a theme in the book, but I think it would be stretching it."

Stretching it how far? It's not as if the author named the book after the color. Oh, wait, he did. I'd have to finish the book to decide if it's stretching it, really. And probably know more about the history of the Ottoman Empire.

Still, thinking about Hats comments about technology, most of which I didn't buy at the time, now I'm thinking that this is the world at a crossroads in place and time--the Ottoman Empire at the end of the 16th C. And that technology, as Hats contends, changed the world dramatically. (Well, of course it did, the question is how much of this plays in the book. This is where I think Hats' original posts were right on target. I'm having a hard time quickly digesting the various viewpoints on this book. It's a lot like reading the book: my initial thought on everything is, "No way!" But then it sinks in.) Tehcnology, the printing press, opened the world for the common man.

And the red dye from the new world was a luxury dye, used by the Popes. It could be symbolic of a lot, and the book is about painting, and the Turks are world-renowned for their red tiles, etc., etc,. I see lots of potential for stretching the canvas here.

I'm not willing to go either way on it right now.

Kleo

I don't know for sure but when I hit that infamous chapter 37, I saw red in a whole new light...but maybe that's just me. It'll be a hoot if we get to the end of this book and red is nothing more nor less than a color. LOL I'm gonna be peeved.

Jonathan,

Just now after reading your last post, it occurs to me that none of us (I don't think) have suspected Shekure. She has more axes to grind that a lot of people. Hmmmm....

I just can't believe that it's one of those miniaturists, That just screams obvious to me.

This is something to puzzle over. What is the storyteller trying to say with his talk about the color red? Endless examples cited, of the use of red in Ottoman and Persian art, make it obvious that the author did in fact, as he claims, spend many hours conning the treasures in the Topkapi.

Every image that he uses in the book he claims to have seen in the miniatures and book-illustrations.

Red upon the military banners of armies, on the velvet caftans of ambassadors, in Ushak carpets, the combs of fighting cocks, pomegranates, the sour-cherry eyes of bird statues made of sugar, the lips of maidens, and on and on.

'Wherever I am spread', says RED, 'I see eyes shine, passions increase, eyebrows rise, and heartbeats quicken.' Behold! Behold! Behold!

'O how exquisite it is to be red!'

'Once in a Persian city...I overheard two blind masters having an argument...' and the reader is carried away to where red becomes meaning that can't be explained, but seems to play proxy for the divine in the artists' scheme of things. There is a 'seeing' that comes to those who are blessed and who avoid the snares of Satan.

Put out of mind entirely, it seems, is poor Enishte lying in a welter, a deluge of red, born of fear:

'I could see no one color and realized that all colors had become red. What I thought was my blood was red ink, what I thought was ink on his hands was my flowing blood.' p173

Before I died, Enishte tells us,

'I remembered the Assyrian legend that I heard as an adolescent. An old man, living alone, rises from his bed in the middle of the night and drinks a glass of water. He places the glass upon the end table to discover the candle that had been there is missing. Where had it gone? A fine thread of light is filtering from within. He follows the light, retracing his steps back to his bedroom to find that somebody is lying in his bed holding the candle. "Who might you be?" he asks. "I am Death," says the stranger. The old man is overcome by a mysterious silence. Then he says, "So, you've come." "Yes" responds Death haughtily. "No" the old man says firmly, "you're but an unfinished dream of mine." The old man abruptly blows out the candle in the stranger's hand and everything vanishes in blackness....'p173

Did Enishte prefer black in the end? This book is irresistable.

I made a partial list of all the RED things : Ink, paint, blood,the devil,hell, fire,poppies(opium flower), bloodshot eyes, wounds, red velvet cushion that Enishte sat on for over 20 years,,banners and the wedding dress and silk canopy of the wedding.......and on and on

Yet we have this paragraph in chapt 31 (I am Red)

"Only a weak and hesitant miniaturist would use a variety of red tones to depict the red of a caftan, they claimed-shadows were not an excuse. Besides, we beleive in only one red."

'WHAT IS THE MEANING OF RED?" the blind miniaturist who'd drawn the horse from memory asked again.

The meaning of the color is that it is there before us and we see it, said the other. Red cannot be explained to he who cannot see.

To deny Gods existence , victims of Satan maintain that God is not visible to us said the blind miniaturist.

"Yes, he appears to those who can see" ,.Red continues to explain.

I wonder if Red is being used as a metsphor for Religion or Allah? "We beleive in only one red"! I can't get over that sentence.

Judy

I still can't get over Red . Mao and The Little Red Book come to mind as do the Red Neckercheifs of the Chinese children. The Red Soviet flag with the Hammer and Sickel. Leaders have used Red as a cry to the masses. Red in only one tone is definitely different than a multi-hued red.

Enough. Time for bed.

Judy

I really believe there is some significance to red too. It's the title of the book, "My Name Is Red." The man on the cover is wearing a full cloak of red and from underneath points a blue sleeve. Is the man on the cover of the book some religious figure? During this time what did the miniaturists wear? Did they wear the same garments? Were the garments similar to their names? Maybe it's the favorite color of some ordinary individual.

Maybe red is a location that the author hasn't introduced yet, like the Red Square in Russia? I also think red is important because a whole chapter is about red. If we listened to the horse, the dog, the coin, then, I think red needs a listening ear too.

And where is Master Osman? I almost had forgotten about him.

I wonder if Red is being used as a metsphor for Religion or Allah? "We beleive in only one red"! I can't get over that sentence.

Judy

Ding ding ding ding ding!! This is getting at the meaning that I now believe Red to hold. Since you have said it, Judy, yes, I believe red is God. Although I didn't put it together till chapter 37. You caught the hints to it before I did.

The horror and the terror of discovering her dead father soon give way to the clear, steady thinking of a woman in crisis, allowing herself only as much fear as might help in getting a protector. She employs this fear factor with Black, telling him that,

'He (the murderer) destroyed our home with a thoroughness that clearly reveals anger and hatred.'

Here she is mistaken, because we know that it was also fear that drove the murderer in destroying the house, looking for the picure that he had painted, the picture that could incriminate him, having left his unmistakable 'style' on it, as Enishte had assured him with terrifying certainty:

'You are the most talented, divinely inspired artist with the most enchanting touch and eye for detail that I have seen in all my sixty years. If you put a painting before me which had seen the combined work of a thousand miniaturists, I'd still be able to recognize instantly the God-given magnificence of your pen.' (ch29,p168)

And so the murderer is terrified about the evidence out there. He hasn't been able to cover his tracks after all. He must be a very confused man. Hardly knows why he is murdering.

Be that as it may. Shekure's heart has come through, as she knew it would when she left Bill at the house of the Hanged Jew, in Chapter 30:

'My heart, without ever having to be asked, will whisper the truth to me. Tomorrow, before noon, I'll know whom I am to marry.'

That's hardly true. She knew already before breakfast. She had been prodding her heart all night, laying awake 'considering all that yet lay in store.' By morning she has a well-laid plan. Quickly, with the help of Hayriye and Esther she arranges another meeting with Black. The plan. She puts it to him with far greater haste than he ever did in trying to show his love at their first meeting.

Bill is once again overwhelmed by the charm of Shekure's intelligence. She, in turn, is exhausted and relieved by his eagerness to comply with her wedding plans. Marriage before nightfall! And so much to do before then. But first she allows herself a little cry.

Isn't Shekure a model of efficiency and organization? And isn't it interesting to see how things are done in Turkey?

Another amazing little chapter.

There appears to be a bit of panic on the part of Shekure, and who can blame her? The wedding must take place quickly before Hasan and his cohorts come to force her away. And so many ducks and little legalities that need to be lined up first, and quietly. ANd the wedding is not the least of her worries, as she knows that she could be considered a suspect for her father's murder, when it is discovered. For someone needing Black so desperately, she certainly is placing a load of demands on him. Nuptials, but no bliss, for Black, until those demands are met.

Jonathan, I'm a little confused by your references to Black as "Bill". Have I missed something here. By the way, I'm finding the entire book amazing, and I'm so glad you persuaded us all to read it!

Who was it asked about the red cloak of the man on the book's cover? The cover on my book shows the illustration of the young man who killed his father, because he was madly in love with his stepmother.I suppose it could also refer to the murder of Enishte, only Enishte was not lying sleeping in his bed, but was up and struggling mightily with his killer.

I was shocked by the murderer's repeated demand for higher and higher praise from the man Enishte. Enishte has just told him that his artistry is capable of bringing the most hopeless, unrepentent sinner to Allah. He replies, "Yes, but I'm not sure that amounts to praise. Try again." The man's conceit is beyond belief. He is a megalomaniac. And, he is unarguably a miniaturist.

Enishte's last long speeches to his assassin are wonderful. The description of his death is horribly convincing. "The entire world was wrapped in my pain and faded to yellow." Even in his death, he perceives everything in an artists colors. His howl of pain he even saw as the color of verdigris.

In Ch. 32, Shekure speaks of what the true goal of her life is. Not love, which she says will vanish after marriage. If she is referring to the 'over the top' romantic notions they have both indulged in, I'm sure she is right. What she values is contentment; home, husband, children..and a book. (Now how can we argue with her about that, hardshell bibliophiles that we are.) Shekure has had a great deal to cope with and has often seemed full of contradictions, but I see her as basically sound and sensible.

Babi

Babi, my son Bill is wondering why I've taken to calling him Black. I have him living with me, and he must have grabbed my attention while I was posting...

The book is nothing less than amazing. I'm happy that you feel that way about it. And it keeps growing on one, as one keeps guessing away about how to look at it. As if we don't have enough to think about in looking for the murderer, or the principles of Ottoman art, or the lives of the individuals, or Turkish customs, etc, why should I suddenly find myself wondering why Allah is called on sometimes, and why, more often, God. The occasion seems to determine the Deity called on. Most often the Jinns determine human dispositions or behavior.

Why does the murderer not see the praise in Enishte's assertion that the artist's work could bring a sinner to Allah? That is a good question. Perhaps the artist feels that would be offensive to Allah, that he, the murderer, should even dare to try that. The artist does claim to be under the influence of the Devil at times. The act of murder was thought of as madness, I believe by Enishte. It was part of the attempt by Enishte to save his life, and it didn't work. It's not clear yet, for me, why he killed Enishte. At one point he regretted killing Elegant. Pamuk doesn't make it easy. Most of the time, I believe, Pamuk wants us to be entertained by his illustrated book.

Pedln, I'm puzzled also by your observation. She has told him there are others wanting to marry her. And she seems to have such a mean opinion of him. One wonders how she could have any confidence in him. Is her father's unfinished book so important to her, and does she need Black for that?

Chapter 34 begins with Black nagged by the doubt that Shekure is using him. But of course he's in love with her, and eager to serve. It's his wedding day. This chapter was worth coming to Istanbul for.

Does it make you cry? Does it make you laugh?

Hi Babi,

I brought up the illustration on the front of the book. I blame my thoughts on my complete involvement with the color red. In my enthusiasm I didn't remember that the bookcover is done by the illustrator. It's like the movies and a book, I guess. Once the book is out of the author's hands anything or anyone can appear on the cover. I think, maybe, one of the guest author's here at Seniornet talked about this one time.

I find myself looking for red while driving down the street now.

Kleo I loved what you said:I'm having a hard time quickly digesting the various viewpoints on this book. It's a lot like reading the book: my initial thought on everything is, "No way!" But then it sinks in.)

Isn’t that the truth? This is the primary reason I love to read with the Senior Net group. Babi calls us hard-shelled bibliophiles.

After a while you become acquainted with the readers and respect their thoughts. Then all of the sudden the light dawns as you go thru the day pondering their opinions. I don’t always agree but what a wonderful venue to share our opinions and thoughts, isn’t it?

Each of you has such profound thoughts about the color red! The color of blood sure fits this story as does paint/dye.

My husband blew out his knee yesterday, so off to the doc we go.

Chapter 33, paragraph 3

"Next, deep in thought, I entered the neighborhood whose name I've yet to mention because I'm not fond of it: Yakutlar..." (underlining mine-Am)

Is Pamuk so cleverly subtle (almost 'jinn-like) that this could be intentional?

The Yakut are a Turkic people in Northern Siberia...-lar is the plural of Yakut, a member of that clan.

However, yakut also means a ruby, a precious red stone

[Definitions from: New Redhouse Turkish-English Dictionary, Redhouse Press, 1968 (based on the Turkish-English Lexicon prepared by Sir James Redhouse and published in 1890 by the Publication Department of the American Board), Redhouse Press, Istanbul, Ninth Ed. 1987]

Alliemae

For information on the Yakuts:

http://lucy.ukc.ac.uk/EthnoAtlas/Hmar/Cult_dir/Culture.7883

...and their language

http://www.omniglot.com/writing/yakut.htm

Alliemae

Alliemae,

Thank you for the links.

The murder of Uncle was quite brutal. That kind of ferocity signifies extreme hatred and anger. Why does this criminal detest these miniaturists so? Is it due to his proud and contemptuous nature?
It seems, to me, as if he needed his ego stroked before bringing the inkpot down on Uncle's head repeatedly.
Uncle admitted the murderers' abilities and talents as an artist but then related how he would never get the admiration that he felt he so deserved -- for in the future he would be even less appreciated.
I think Uncle signed his own death warrant with that claim.

Shekure- well I'm not too sure I "get" her. Initially she wanted to keep Uncles death a secret for fear that Hasan would come put claims on her. The next thing we know she's a new bride saying "Allah, help me. I knew with great sadness that I was in love with the man who was incriminating me. " Hasan! I don't know whether I'd like to beat her , her oldest child or Black for being such a fool.

Isn't it all too funny for words. Twenty-two Venetian gold pieces and trust in God will get you through the toughest day. Including a haircut and a shave.

oops-- Jonathan did I skip ahead? I thought we were to read thru Chapter 34.

Please excuse the interruption again, in this fascinating discussion.

Jonathan, since you are wary of email messages, I have left a message for you here: Information for Jonathan . Thanks for reading it.

I am sure you must have all been wondering- "What is she thinking?" when I said had anyone thought of Shekure as the murderer. This would obviously make no sense whatsoever. And not only that- I can't even explain what I was thinking or how my brain took a short vacation like that. Good grief. It has just now occured to me when I was reading today. Just ignore the fact that I ever said that. Please. I will owe you all one.

Wonderful Scootz. Keep posting. We're cranking up the Search and Rescue team. I feel blinded myself. Wasn't Shekure stunning in RED, at her wedding? Poor thing. Little does she know what lays ahead. But let's listen as she tells us about in Chapter 34. After hearing from Black in Chapter 33, about the bliss awaiting him...shocking, is there no end to these horrors?

I thought you, maybe more than anyone else, might have gotten the irony of my post #488, especially after that brutal and bloody homicide scene. There are so many other small Turkic clans Pamuk could have named that street for...

BTW, I thought that chapter on Enishte Effendi's murder was one of Pamuk's best written in this book (so far!).

Hats, You're welcome for the links!

Alliemae

Black gets to taste the candy on her tongue, and Orhan has his bottom wiped, and both express their pleasure. Everything seems under control, under the watchful eyes of Shekure. But the strain of the last four days has been too much for her.

No sooner has she closed her eyes, the nightmare begins. All the horrendous things we have been reading about come back to her in the dream. What a confusion in her mind, as she wallows in guilt, angst, fears, suspicions. She's guilty. Black is guilty. She hated her father. Hasan plays the very devil with her emotions, with that voice of his coming out of the darkness.

Shekure's nightmare seems so logical, given what she has been through, and her uncertainties about the future. I find this chapter a brilliant piece of 'realistic' writing. So truthful. Just as Black's account in Chapter 33 seemed so truthful and sincere.

No doubt about it. The murder scene is the most unusual one I've ever read. And I'm sure there is still much in that chapter that went unnoticed.

I liked what Andy said about it, but I'm still convinced that the muderer was acting out of fear. There's a picture out there that will incriminate him. He must have it. By the time Enishte tells him that his work will not be appreciated in the future, followed by that melancholy meditation on what time, fire, men and mice will do to the art pieces, by then, I believe, Enishte is resigned to his death. Terrible.

Enishte did too good a job of persuading his murderer that he would recognize his work anywhere. Since it is the murderer who painted the significant portions of the dangerous final page, he now wants to destroy it before it can be placed in the book. Enishte will never give up his dream of completing the book, so Enishte must die, and then the murderer tears up the place looking for the painting.

I can empathize with Shekure a little, ALF. She has always had an attraction to the dark and handsome Hassan, even tho' she knows he is bad news. A few million other women at one time or another have done the same thing, right? So now that she is safely married to Black, she can afford a small pang and acknowledgement of that attraction. She loved both men, in different ways. But she went thru' enormous efforts and risks to make very sure she did not go back within Hassan's reach. She's a romantic, but she's not a fool.

Babi

Babi, Is Shekure really a romantic or a very controlling and manipulative woman who is utterly beautiful and also intelligent and used to getting her way.? She wraps everyone around her finger quite knowingly.I think she and Esther are supposed to show us that in a time when woman had no obvious importance they made their wills known in roundabout ways. There was no other choice at that point in History in that Sultanate and that country.

Judy

But, BaBi IS Shekure "safely" married ? Is she married in the true sense of the word ? The puzzle is becoming deeper and a resolution not yet in sight.

IMHO Esther is the most sympathetic female character in the story and lovingly drawn. Shekure's deviousness is disturbing to me and her suspicions of Black are, I believe, unwarranted. Her parenting of her sons is wildly inconsistent; when it suits her purposes, she doesn't hesitate to play one child against the other (telling each in the other's absence she likes himbetter). Esther describes both children as "rascally", which seems a fair assessment.

The minute details of every reference and statement in this book is a wonder. How COULD the author know such specific details about the artisans of the day and their personal behavior ?

It would take weeks or even months to follow up on the names on each page, to become familiar with the historic events mentioned, the countless legends constantly being cited and retold, the heroes and heroines therein, and the customs of the day.

The plot, I believe, consists in the deadly battle between ideologies, between the old and the new, specifically between Eastern and Western painting styles and representation. The outcome is predicted by the Enishte in his last conversation with his murderer.

To wend one's way through this long story is not easy, and sometimes this reader feels as if the artistic debate, and every single endlessly reiterated point of it, were more important to Pamuk than the protagonists he has chosen to tell and live his story.

My grandfather lived among the Yakut people for years in Siberia. He died before I was born, so I never knew him. But I loved hearing all the stories about these exotic places where he lived, including along some of Russia's great river, the Lena and the River Ob. It's fun to hear something of the Yakut in a far off land.

I think that Shekure is a very typical woman of her society. She is much like Muslim women I know from Afghanistan and from the Middle East who grew up in traditional homes, at all socio-economic levels. She's a bit hard to take, and sometimes when reading about her, I forget that she's the spitting image of my dearest and most favorite Afghan cousin. One thing that irritates me more than it should, is that even well-educated women who grow up in traditionally cultured homes are like Shekure. Even when they see the personal advantage of some aspect of Western culture, they don't go for it.

"The plot, I believe, consists in the deadly battle between ideologies, between the old and the new, specifically between Eastern and Western painting styles and representation."

Yes.

Kleo

"It would take weeks or even months to follow up on the names on each page, to become familiar with the historic events mentioned, the countless legends constantly being cited and retold, the heroes and heroines therein, and the customs of the day." Traude

For Westerners, yes Traude. For Turks people, much of it is familiar. It would be like mentioning people from the Bible or events that are told there. In the West most would know what it was about if you mentionned Dalilah or refered to fratricide.

Shekure's manipulative moves reminds me much of people I have actually met. I am in awe at the detailed descriptions of death and after death. Pamuk really has a flair for words and image paintings.

I wish Pamuk had, in addition to the map of Turkey, included a map of the different areas in Istanbul that he talks about so that all readers could be oriented to some of the sequences of the story: Galata, Eyup, Golden Horn, Uskudar, the various bridges, with even perhaps a key so readers could follow the story geographically through that exciting city that is Istanbul.

I've found a small map which does show the Bosphorus, the Sea of Marmara and the Golden Horn as well as Galata (also called Karakoy), Uskudar (where Black had to go for the divorce), and at least one of the three (actually at my last visit, four) bridges at the following site:

http://www.turkeytravelplanner.com/WhereToGo/Istanbul/index.html

I'll look for more. Oh, if only I had a scanner!

Alliemae

Alliemae, that is a fine aerial view of Istanbul. Can you find one of the layout of Topkapi Palace?

Let's consider these two chapters today.

First we find ourselves once more in the coffeehouse, to hear the storyteller expounding once again on his theories on art, how the horse has been used for obscenity and sinfulness in pictures, and how, once, the massacre of horses was the downfall of a kingdom.

Then we're off to the Topkapi Palace with Black, carrying the bundle of pictures under his arm. For Black it has the atmosphere of a Forbidden City. Just to walk in through the Gate of Salutation is transfixing for him. To be In the Presence is overwhelming.

Bubble says it best. If many things seem strange or unusual, or, insignificant, or redundant, of uncertain meaning, it may only seem so because were in a strange land. Well, that's why we came. To find out what the locals are reading. I find the light going on for me in some things.

The thousands of details are fascinating. A whole Human Comedy in the book.

How delightful that Pamuk had Esther make a cameo appearance at the wedding.

Looking at it again, I find myself in the boat, being rowed across the Bosphorous to 'Reno for a quicky,' for Shekure. Were women never present at these divorce proceedings?

Looking into the dark waters that Black filled with dark enemies. I'm still chuckling over how quickly Black visualized and organized his day into a book with four scenes, each with instructions to the miniaturist on how to bring out the story. But then that's what he was doing with the pictures of his uncle's book.

Is Shekure really a romantic or a very controlling and manipulative woman who is utterly beautiful and also intelligent and used to getting her way.? She wraps everyone around her finger quite knowingly.I think she and Esther are supposed to show us that in a time when woman had no obvious importance they made their wills known in roundabout ways. There was no other choice at that point in History in that Sultanate and that country.

JUDY, YES, to all the above! Women had to go in 'roundabout ways' to get anywhere. As Kleo says, she is a very typical woman of her society.

TRAUDE, much as I enjoy Esther, I can't think well of her letting other people read letters with which she has been entrusted. I realize this is one way in which she makes herself useful to people who can reward or protect her, but that doesn't make it any more acceptable.

Thanks for the link, Alliemae. The map shows Uskudar, where Black had to go to find a judge (or rather his deputy) who would give Shekure her divorce. Ah, yes...you just have to know where to go and who to see to get things done.

Much as I like the storyteller's role, I find myself puzzled by the Horse. Other than bringing up once again the old argument between the real and the ideal, I'm not sure what his point is. I would be curious to know who painted the first horse, which everyone has been assiduously copying ever since. When was it decided that was the perfect horse, as Allah saw it? As Horse pointed out, no real horse would stand or move as depicted by the illustrators. Surely the Creator knows how a real horse works! Perhaps that is the whole point...another attack on the stiff copywork of the traditional miniaturists.

I was surprised by Black's behavior before the Head Treasurer. He does seem to be very much like the child Shekure believes him to be. He just pours out everything, hopes the Head Treasurer believes him, but is sure he must sound like a guilty man, trying to put the blame on anybody and everybody else. I don't know; maybe in the East this is the best way of demonstrating innocence.

Now far the revealing Ch. 37 that so much has been hinted about!

Babi

BUBBLE and JONATHAN, I agree.

In one of the earliest posts here I said as much - and I paraphrase - i.e. that Pamuk presupposes a broad knowledge about the Ottoman Empire. His countrymen, of course, have that since it is part and parcel of their historic and cultural tradition -- a tradition that is shared by other Mideastern peoples and countries despite and across long-redrawn national borders.

But foreign readers don't have that intimate background; few have heard of the legend of Hüsret and her lover. There is much to admire, but some customs/practices give one pause: for example the oft-mentioned bastinado, the Oriental mode of punishment with a stick or cudgel, and the slave-like, often also sexual relationship between adored master and handsome apprentice - all candidly described and fully accepted "fact of life".

Back to chapters 35 an 36.

BaBi, yes,
Esther carries tales and letters (which she cannot herself read), stirring the pot - as we might say; she renders a service for which she is well known; she has flaws like the rest of mankind -- but then, we are not called upon to approve or disapprove of what she does.

Still and all, to me she is a more believable, a more accessible human being and character in this twisted tale than Shekure, whom I neither understand nor trust. But this is just my opinion and I am not trying to "put it over" on anyone else.

Floor plan of Topkapi Palace

http://www.ee.bilkent.edu.tr/~history/topkapi0.html

And some additional information:

The Topkapi Palace Museum Topkapi Sarayi

http://www.ee.bilkent.edu.tr/~history/topkapi.html

Alliemae

I was able to find a tughra of Murat III:

http://www.tughranet.f2s.com/tughras/murad3.jpg

and some information (with some diagrams) regarding the uses of these signatures:

http://www.tughranet.f2s.com/tughraen.htm

Ok...I'm going back to today's chapters!!

Alliemae

Babi,

I feel mixed feelings about Esther along with Shekure. Saying all are "flawed" just allows us to look over a person's shortcomings. For all we know Esther might sell secrets to the murderer too.

How did the murderer know Shekure, the children would leave Enishte alone that night, at that particular time? Didn't somebody have to give away some information about the family's routine for that evening? If not Esther, maybe Hayriye. Because of Esther's name I want to see her as a noble character. I just don't know.

When Black walks through the Gate of Salutation and all the other gates, is he walking toward the Sultan's palace? It seems very beautiful. It seems as busy as Vatican City(I have never been there).

"I stared at the peacocks roaming through the greenery, the gold cups chained to splashing fountains..."

Is this the Topaki Palace? Where am I? Oh, it is the Sultan's palace. Now I need to look again and reread Alliemae's links. Alliemae, thanks!

I wonder why Pamuk calls it the bastinado, though, rather than falaqa, the Turkish word?

I think I once read that this form of torture also causes some type of liver or kidney damage for some reason. The Taliban used it. Saudi Arabia has long been fond of it, for the same reason, or one of the reasons, the Ottoman Turks liked it: your victim limps a bit, but otherwise appears unharmed.

This was one of the parts of the book that rang untrue to me. It is historically recorded as a method of torture for school children in parts of the Middle East. However, it was not usually done on apprentices because of the risk of damaging the person and making them unusable. Artists in the late 16th century worked standing on their feet. Falaqa would make them an unworkable mouth to feed.

Modern Turkey was known for using it for fake confessions, but I think they now prefer stun guns as a method of torture? Anyone know?

Most of the cities and places that Pamuk mentions are known by Westerners who have studied the Silk Road routes and ancient Persia. I think the average college-educated 19th century Westerner would have heard of almost every city mentioned in My Name Is Red. In addition, these are cities that have been cities for a thousand years and still exist today, capital cities of modern countries in some cases. Of the other places mentioned, the Golden Horn, for example, are known from the ancient Greek stories, and other sources. I think that Pamuk is limiting his writing to those places that might be, or maybe should be (on his basis), known to Westerners. I sometimes get the feeling that he wrote to show the rest of the world what they should know about his world.

Kleo

HATS, the murderer did not know (how could not have known?) that Enishte would be alone that evening.
Shekure had arranged to meet Black at the house of the Hanging Jew and sent the servant and the boys out to buy mullet and sweets for the boys, admonishing her not to return until prayer time.

It so happened Shekure was the first to get home and found her father.

Esther did not know the identity of the murderer, and we won't either -- for a while yet.

He is walking into the palace, I believe. This is the gate known as the Middle Gate or Gate of Salutation or Greeting Gate or #1 on the floor plan.

Click on "Floor Plan," then click on image to get bigger one

Kleo

Traude, thank you. It's so much to remember. It is easy for me to forget some of the details.

Kleo, thank you.

That could only be really felt by a 36-year-old bachelor who has spent the last dozen years going from caravansary to caravansary between Tiflis and Shiraz.

Even so the contentment is enjoyed for only a moment. An hour later he is praying:

'My dear Allah, let justice be done, that is all I ask, nothing more.'

He has spent his wedding night poring over the perplexing pictures, while his wife was having her terrible dreams. Only yesterday he was tearing about in Istanbul doing his pre-nuptial errands. Today he will be hosting 'the notables, and crowds from the palace, the guilds and theological schools' who will be coming for the ritual funeral prayer in honor of his murdered uncle. For which he himself may be under suspicion, for all he knows.

Before that, it's off to the Sultan's palace to deliver the pictures to the Head Treasurer. A terrifying experience to be so close to the throne. Passing through the Gate of Salutation only brings on a sense of alarm. A curious sense of guilt comes over him. He bursts into tears. He is eager to confess. It's simply bizarre. The reader knows he is innocent of any crime. So it can only be that his feeling of guilt is endemic, in the peculiar life at the Ottoman Court. In the eyes of officialdom everyone is suspect.

As for the pictures, they are dismissed disparagingly by the Head Treasurer as 'those dogs and trees'. But where is the missing one?

While Enishte lays dead, rolled onto his right side, facing Mecca.

I'm going to forge ahead this week (hopefully in the next few days) and finish this book. I'll circle back by and comment where I can without giving anything away. I really don't want to be the wet blanket, but I'm not enjoying this book any more and need to finish it up before I totally lose interest.

I know you all are really liking it, so I won't belabor my dislikes. I'll keep in touch here and watch the discussion as it goes.

SCOOTZ, I just read your post and fully understand: having finished the book I'm in the same boat.

Perhaps we will be able, at the very end of our time together, to assess our own feelings, to venture a guess as to what "message" exactly Pamuk meant to convey to the global readership, and other things. Meanwhile I'll be reading the posts.

Traude, I suppose there is a message in there somewhere, but I feel as Kleo feels when she posts:

'I sometimes get the feeling that he wrote to show the rest of the world what they should know about his world.' post 515?

I see a Dickens or a Balzac here, trying to depict the human scene in a given place and time. Granted, it's very detailed.

How do the rest of you feel? Have you had enough? One doesn't always have to finish a book, feeling satisfied with a sampling. Obviously many who declared a wish to join in, changed their minds. Not everybody's cuppa tea, I guess.

Even if for some reason it may be decided that the discussion will not continue for lack of interest, I'll keep reading Pamuk.

I'll finish this book and will read more of Pamuk's books. In fact, just before I came back online I was thinking that I'd like to know a lot more about the progression of Pamuk's writing and thoughts, maybe even reading the books in the order they were written.

It has occurred to me (I'm speaking only of my personal experience in the reading of the book, not as a book critic) that Pamuk seems more at home writing about death than marriage or love. I have experienced many ups and downs regarding my pleasure in reading this author but the 'ups' outweigh the 'downs' and I want to understand his points of irony and learn more about his political and religious views and also his depictions of family life, especially sons and mothers. I also want to know Pamuk's Istanbul and Turkey.

I have always been interested in the psycho/socio/economic history of countries in the Near East and Central Asia even more than their recorded histories. Literature, for me, is one way this is provided.

Pamuk may be writing about other times but he is still writing from his own frame of reference, whatever that may be. I want to see if I can learn more about that through his writing.

As I said, this is just my personal experience.

Alliemae

Jonathan,

This has been my cuppa' tea. I love what Alliemae posted above. Her thoughts are my thoughts. I have fallen in love with Orhan Pamuk.I am looking forward to reading his other books in the future.

Traude knows I always hate to see a discussion end. I learn from each poster. I have stuck by Jonathan's outlines for fear of forgetting some details or some bigger piece of information. Perhaps, not meaning to, giving away a pertinent spoiler. This is why I haven't finished the book.

I find the book totally engrossing. It is another wonderful book chosen by Seniornet. I have come away with not just another murder mystery under my belt. I have come away with the knowledge of a country, its customs and its people. It was like travelling back in time to the Ottoman Empire. Then, travelling forward to learn about modern Turkey from posters who have travelled there or been involed in a personal way with Turkey.

After I finish the book I want to read the thoughts of all who have been involved in the discussion. Alf's thoughts are always interesting along with Deems, JoanP's, Bubble, Kleo's and Scootz and all the others whom I haven't named.

I have no idea what to do about when or how to end the discussion. With humbleness, I appreciate being asked. Anything decided by Jonathan and Pedln and the group is fine with me.

I have gotten my dollar's worth from the discussion.

Let's go on... A little effort please! I enjoy the different thoughts, the views indicated here. Not everything is easy and clear in life. It can be as puzzling as this book. Bubble

Goodness, I didn't mean for anyone to stop the discussion, just because I was tired of the book. I have been much ahead the whole time, so I wanted to just forge ahead and get it over with- which is my sentiment by now. Sometimes, if I go toooooo slowly, it just makes it worse. I want to wrap this one up.

Traude- glad to know I'm not alone!

Once we're all finished, I'll express my dislikes further, as I said. No need to do anything different on my account. Please. I just wanted to explain why I wouldnt be as actively posting from here on. Read on, McDuffs'!

Meantime, I enjoy all the posts and links, etc.

Oh, and btw- I am not one to have to finish every book. Trust me, I bale out when it's just not at all to my liking (LOANA). This book hasn't been that way for me,and I have persevered, I didn't give up. it's just gone on too long. (Like me. )

Let us forge ahead. We have agreed to a schedule and I personally would like to see this book completed, Jonathan. It's difficult, I know, to stay with a story for discussion once you've finished the novel. That is exactly why I am trying to be more rigid in my reading here. If I had finished the book, I would have moved on by now. No fair, no peeky I keep reminding myself.

I have a thought because of what Hats said here:"How did the murderer know Shekure, the children would leave Enishte alone that night, at that particular time? Didn't somebody have to give away some information about the family's routine for that evening? If not Esther, maybe Hayriye.
Indeedy-- what about Hayriye??? We know that she secretly loved and slept with 'uncle." It was mentioned in one of the previous chapters that Shekure wondered if she had had a child by him. Hmmm- wouldn't an offspring be extremely jealous of his "non entity?" Perhaps he was ignored by Uncle or shunned by him. Of course I'm up to Chater 39 and there has been no further mention of this offspring.

Could this possibly be the same Book of Kings that is referred to in the chronology, p.417second, paragraph. This one was made much earlier, but I'm curious as to whether it's the same.

link

OH, YES, let's do carry on. I certainly plan to finish the book, and I find all the comments by others a great help in getting the most out of it.

ALF, from my understanding of what I read, there is no question of Hayriye having had a child. Shekure had wondered, before her Father's death, of what would happen if Hayriye did have a child. It would surely alter her status in the house. She might begin to balk at being the servant/slave and defy Shekure's orders. But unless Hayriye is already pregnant, that is no longer an issue.

Wasn't Enishte's descriptin of the events following his death fascinating? Color remains a major element of all he perceives. I can see how the primary focus of one's life could become an imprint on the soul, one that carries over into afterlife. And the sense of freedom, of having "unlimited time and space in which to experience all eras and all places." I have always expected to experience a freedom from physical limitations after death, but the idea of experiencing 'all eras' gave me something new to think about.

Whoa! Pamuk dares to answer the greatest question of them all:"What is the meaning of it all, ot this...of this world?" And he gives a tantalizing answer: ""Mystery...or perhaps Mercy."

What a great answer.

BUBBLE, KLEO, those of you who live, or have lived, in Turkey or the Mid-East,..what do you think of this comment from Master Osman?

"..It is precisely because it makes life easier that modesty is such a highly prized virtue in our part of the world."

Babi

Babi,

You have written beautifully about Enishte's description of death. I love color. To think that death might take us into a world full of blues, reds, purples is very exciting. To think of the world after death as one involving a rainbow of colors, in some way, takes away the fear of death or the desire to remain in our familiar world. Maybe it's because the world of color is like a child's world, full of innocence and the ability to appreciate wonderful sights for the first time.

This is Enishte's quote which stayed with me.

"Only when one escapes the dungeons of time and space does it become evident that life is a straitjacket."

Have any of you ever wondered about being able to look at the mourners at your funeral? Enishte gets that chance. He sees Shekure crying and crying and moaning. Does he think her wails are sincere?

Poor Enishte, I think, at some point the blood on his garments mixed the beautiful heavenly red. At that point, Enishte, I feel, felt underdressed or wrongly dressed for his most next exciting journey.

Whoops, I might have written this before Jonathan came in with his chapter outline.

Wasn't there a movie with Don Ameche looking down from heaven? I have forgotten the name of the movie. I think that movie is too lighthearted comparted to Enishte's situation.

Kleo, thank you for the clear description of Bastinado.

Scootz, thank you for your link, The Book of Kings.

Babi, when all your moves are dictated, when you have not much to decide for yourself, life should be easy, don't you think? just follow the rules, the traditions...

Hats, it does not really matter if cries, moans, shrieks are sincere. The loudest the better: it proves to the world that this was an important man. That is why some families had professional criers at the funerals too. The big tears and emotional show are very oriental as a tradition. another one would be the loud shrieks and howls in delivery rooms as if it would help the birthing. The louder, the better appreciation from the husband afterward! Bubble

I found a fabulous article on the book which summarizes, and explains everything, practically chapter by chapter. I don't want to post it as it may upset people as to spoilers, etc. But if anyone would like it, please email me at readercathie@yahoo.com. Or I'd be happy to post it if that's acceptable. I don't want to upset anyone.

I just found it earlier today and have read to the point where I am in the book, and it has really helped to crystallize it all for me.

Scootz, please send it to me? I'll read half of it to start with! Sorry I can't email at present: server is not working for the mail for the past half hour.

Thanks! Bubble

Bubble, I sent it to you. Hope you can at least receive email.

Thanks scootz. It seems that your mail fixed the problem and I could answer you. I sent you another comment on the book.

One has to feel sorry for Osman. He seems so dismayed to be old. And now, in his old age, he too is overcome by guilt in the Sultan's presence.

How glorious to read that death restores ones memory! And death also. it seems, provides a better view of life.

Just like your posts, this book rekindles the imagination, stimulates thought, brings a sense of wonder, and brings on the peculiar delight that one will probably never finish it. What a booklover's dream. To get lost in a story.

Of course we'll continue. It's only just beginning. If you like, Alliemae, let's read Pamuk's ISTANBUL together. We really get to know Orhan in that one. Along with his mother and brother. And of course the old city. One begins to appreciate Pamuks preoccupation with death and decay.

My quote for the day, from Osman's observations:

'Strolling through the Hippodrome whose parades I'd illustrated over the last two years, was like stepping into my own painting. Let's say we were to turn down a street: In a Frankish painting, this would result in our stepping outside both the frame and the painting; in a painting made following the example of the great masters of Herat, it'd bring us to the place from which Allah looks upon us; in a Chinese painting, we'd be trapped, because Chinese illustrations are infinite.'

And then there is Enishte's new picture from his new plane. He makes it sound close to Allah's.

Jonathan, did you say we are going to read "Istanbul" here together at Seniornet? Did I misunderstand?

Jonathan,

Thank you for the quote. I pondered that one too. I think Pamuk's writing is so beautiful, a hackneyed term. I know his words top "beautiful." How about "perfect?"

Johathan, I think that Istanbul would be a great follow-up read and I would defininitely subscribe to the discussion...in fact, there's nothing I'd like better!

Great idea...as great as you suggesting "My Name is Red".

It's wonderful to see so many Pamuk fans...like all of you, I'm glad we're continuing on with this book till the end!

Alliemae

It is a renewed delighted surprise in every chapter to see how intricate are his descriptions, how clear the images created by his imagination. Yes, it does make me think, compare to see if my views of death or afterdeath would match his, for example. Bubble

I found Chapter 37 somehow comforting and I wonder if music lovers and fine musicians find 'Berzah' filled with music the way that Enishte Effendi found it filled with color.

Chapter 37 also reminded me of the 'Seth' books...the kind of reading, as I have found in many parts of this book so far, that I can only 'get' (or is it 'grok'?) if I proceed as though I were trying to untangle a badly tangled ball of yarn or even moreso a very fine chain that had become knotted, where I must become one with the item to be untangled...go with the flow of it...and take my time, letting the yarn or chain do its job with me rather than trying to force cooperation.

I'm really sad about the tortures to come in order to ferret out the murderer(s)...too bad they all have to suffer. Two or three years ago I might have been more horrified at this chapter, only being relieved that this merciless torture was so removed from me by centuries. We don't have that sort of comfort anymore in our world.

Alliemae

I'm a bit dismayed that Scootz writes she's done for now, Traude agrees and all of a sudden the question is should we quit? Why? Neither brought the issue up, so how did it come up? Just because one person poops out on a book, that they read to the end, doesn't mean she's asking everyone to feel the same thing and quit reading!!!!! Please!

"..It is precisely because it makes life easier that modesty is such a highly prized virtue in our part of the world."

Babi, I've never lived in Turkey or the Mid-East. However, I have family from Afghanistan who live in the United States. South Asian culture is much like Middle Eastern or Ottoman culture, the more I experience Mid-East or read about Ottoman culture.

Modesty is also highly prized because it's rarely found outside of the virgin bride and groom during their wedding. This whole story-telling over-the-top culture does admire modesty because it does, indeed make life easier. But it seems to be rare, those who want to live life under the radar--in fact, intrigue seems to be the most popular personality trait. I think Westerners do this just as much as the rest of the world, admire intrigue and seek it, but don't like to acknowledge it, or they transfer it to the idolatry of movie and music stars.

Intrigue makes the world go round, it's the hot pepper spice of human cultures.

I'm going to read more about the history of the Ottoman Empire before I read more Pamuk. The Shahnama would be a good start, but I will read Osman's Turkey, a book I got about the economic history of the empire, and a friend's class reader from her course at Cal last semester on the empire.

Pamuk's a keeper for me.

Kleo

I have a strong suspicion, from what we learn in Chapter 39, that it was Enishte himself who had Elegant murdered. Elegant's widow, Kalbiye, makes a good case for it. He must have threatened Enishte with exposure at the mosque for having tricked him into gilding the secret illustrations that bore all

'the marks of Frankish blasphemy, atheism and even heresy'

Is it any wonder that Esther finds Kalbiye 'arrogant', 'proud', 'resentful', and 'angry'? Is it any wonder that she refused to join the 'mourning' women, or even send the condolence halva to Shekure?

'Ohh,' I said, 'semolina halva with pistachios', as I had a taste. 'And they've added orange, too.'

That does sound delicious, Esther. I wish I had asked for that, years ago, when I stopped regularly at Feinstein's Deli on Queen St, for some halva. The Deli is no longer there. Mr and Mrs Feinstein passed away long ago.

'If only I could cry like this just once a week, I thought.'

Dear Esther. How much we learn from her. But when it comes to relief found in tears, we also have Black's testimony. We can't help remembering Black crying his heart out in Chapter 36, and the wonderful things it did for him:

'As I cried, I felt purged of doubts about whether my agony was genuine (!), of apprehension about being accused of murder and of the fear of Hasan and his men.'

Black has, indeed, become the prime suspect in the murders. He has already been sent for by the Commander of the Imperial Guard. It does look bad for the newlywed Black. Thank God, for tears.

While Esther is already speculating about a new husband for Kalbiye. Will she soon be doing the same again for Shekure? Did she ever try matching up Shekure with the

'the brother of the lover of the famous Jewish doctor Moshe Hamon'?

We're not hearing the half of it, despite everything that we're hearing from the whole lot of them. They're all hiding so much.

My # 522 has been MISread and/or MISinterpreted and I am appalled by the undeserved, completely uncalled-for scolding in # 544.

Like SCOOTZ, I needed to finish reading the book, irrespective of the schedule. So I did.
In the second paragraph I said

"Perhaps we will be able, at the end of our time together, to assess our own feelings, to venture a guess as to what "message" exactly Pamuk meant to convey to the global readership, and other things. Meanwhile I'll be reading the posts."

There is not one word about closing the discussion in my # 522, for heaven's sake - nor for that matter in # 521 by SCOOTZ.

It is my habit to let a book gel after I finished reading it and to assess it THEN, not before. This is my modus operandi. In this case I believe there is more Pamuk tried to say than what has been outlined here so far.

"Is anyone else thinking of ENISHTE EFFENDI as a possible suspect for the murder? Not that I think he could pull it off himself physically but he did have a lot of influence over the miniaturists who were involved in helping him on the book for the sultan who might have been 'convinced' that it would be a good thing to help him 'eliminate' a possible exposer." Alliemae, post #384...

Jonathan, I feel vindicated (at least until we find out FOR SURE who the murderer(s) is/are when you say, "I have a strong suspicion, from what we learn in Chapter 39, that it was Enishte himself who had Elegant murdered."

And as for Esther, I call Chapter 39 "From 'Yente the Matchmaker' to 'Sherlock Holmes.'...

"If I could cry like this just once a week..."

And now, still, from her very first words, Esther is my favorite...but even more a real person now and less a caricature of another of my favorite characters.

...and p. 244 "...did he [Elegant Effendi] mention he'd be seeing anyone besides Enishte Effendi?"

By the way, who was the drawer of horses? But he wouldn't have had to practice, would he have? Well, at least now we can surmise the reason for the placement of chapter 35. I've always wondered what Pamuk's reasons were for putting in chapters about coins and horses and such where he had put them.

Ch. 40, paragraph 1

I like the way Pamuk describes human conditions and the way his characters' minds and souls work...the man is magic for me.

Also, I can sympathize with those readers who read on ahead. It was very, very difficult for me, after reading chapter 40, to NOT go on to 41!

Alliemae

I have gained the greatest insight of Esther in chapter 39. It's as if we get a look into her heart. She is no longer just an errand girl trading secrets and carrying bundles of silks to make a living. In this chapter Pamuk shows us the woman. I like her because she is real. Esther knows what it is to have her humanhood mocked.

I imagine she beats her breast and cries for more than one reason. So often as we grieve for one reason our minds dig deep and other emotional pains from the past blend with the present pain.

These are Esther's words.

"I was deeply touched by my own woes and pitiful life."

In these chapters I feel Orhan Pamuk shows an understanding of women. His understanding helps me to understand the part of each woman in the story. Each woman seems to carry a burden: Shekure, Esther, even Hayriye, the mistress and Kalbiye, Elegant's widow. These were hard times for women. These Turkish women seem to live in the background while the man's life is in the forefront. The man's life controlling the life of the woman. God forbid if you were a woman alone.

During this time were women allowed to become miniaturist or gilders, etc? I have never heard of a woman illuminating a manuscript.

By the way, when is Black going to write his story to go with the pictures for the Sultan's book?

Esther's hardships have made her understanding of the suffering of other women. I wanted to cry as Esther touched the hair of Shekure. Their embrace is felt through the pages. Esther goes to Kalbiye's house and listens to her story. Esther's heart opens again. She feels Kalbiye's anger. Esther goes a step further and tries to understand "why" the anger.

"A large glimmering tear slid from Kalbiye's gleaming eye down her cheek, and at the first opportunity, your good-hearted Esther decided to find Kalbiye a better husband than the one she'd recently lost."

This is my favorite part. Both Shekure and Kalbiye have children.

"The two large-headed fatherless waifs staring at me from the corner suggested another similarity between the two women."

I suppose it is silly to even think of women artists at this time with religious taboos, etc.

I think Esther will solve these crimes.

Spoken with such Turkish panache!

In all of Frankish literature, perhaps only Shakespeare's Hamlet monologuing on the bitterness of life, reaches such a height of pathos as Black does meditating on the 'eternal loneliness' that he has found in Istanbul.

Both Hamlet and Black are melancholy men. If Black's tragedy is portrayed with a touch of farce, it can only be that the author intended it that way, to reflect a tough determination in a man who has learned how to cope in a difficult world.

Another dramatic Shakesperian touch is the knock on the door, when they come to get Black. Macbeth and his Lady were not more alarmed by the ominous sound than Black was 'stunned'.

All Black's good fortunes are accompanied by dire disappointments. A wife, a home, a job, all were his, without lifting a finger. Now his wife sits weeping, and the meddlesome preacher never stops babbling rumors that implicate Black in his uncle's death. He's being carried off to torture and death without ever having tasted the fruits of love.

What great moral strength reveals itself in Black's character as he allows himself to be awed, on his difficult road, by

'the slender cypresses delicately stretching into the hazy sky' above the Hagia Sophia. The ducks afloat on the pond. The strangeness of a cloud in the sky.

Little does he suspect that the fuzzy cloud could be the angels carrying Enishte off to eternity. Shekure seemed to think the timing was be right.

There is so much more to tell in this remarkable chapter, but I will give someone else a chance. As we go off to look for the devilry, ruse and mischief that have disturbed the Sultan's Court.

"In these chapters I feel Orhan Pamuk shows an understanding of women. His understanding helps me to understand the part of each woman in the story." (Hats also)

Hats, I'm so glad you wrote those posts. They have made me aware of something I hadn't been fully appreciating.

This is why I enjoy Book Discussions. The more readers, the more opinions and personal interpretations, and the more facets of the book each of us can enjoy.

Thanks, Hats--I'll read the book with more insight into all the characters now and with an even deeper appreciation of this author.

Alliemae

Jonathan, you've done it again!--another 'coup'!!

Your comparison of Pamuk and Shakespeare makes me want to go back and read Hamlet and Macbeth over again.

I haven't read either since high school but I remember the feeling of them and I do believe you are 'spot on'! I'm sure I'll get a lot more out of them now!

Thanks, Jonathan.

Alliemae

As there is indeed not one word about closing the discussion, Traude, in your post why not go with what follows from that? That the comments about the posts mentioning closing the discussion are not about your post! The comments are to the posts that mention closing the discussion!!!!!!! Ta duh!!!!

Yes, the comments about closing the discussion are, although it's hard to fathom, directed to the posts that have comments about closing the discussion, not to posts that don't have what it's directed to.

Kleo

But the first murder isn't a hit, as the murderer doesn't even seem to know he's going to kill the man, just realizes all of a sudden that he's kinda led himself to that position? So how can it be ordered by someone else?

Kleo

JONATHAN, I agree: Pamuk's insight into the psyche of women is astonishing. And you are so right about melancholy. The book is suffused with it, I believe, and I wonder whether Pamuk himself is melancholic.

Black to me is a hero, a man of principle, stealth and determination to follow through. Indecisive, flrtatious Shekure has no idea what a gem Black is.

Nope, I can't see Enishte as the murderer,even by hire, of Elegant Effendi. How many times have we read of his wondering who the killer is, and whether he is in danger from this or that person. Besides, we already know that the murderer is a highly skilled miniaturist,..which Enishte Effendi is not.

Not only is modesty prized among the Turks, it appears that failure to vent one's grief loudly is highly suspect. Black says: "I didn't want my inability to cry to be interpreted negatively; I don't have to tell you how real the fear of being branded 'stonehearted' is." He is actually afraid of being thought cold and uncaring.

Babi

Who is the artist among us that can help the rest of us appreciate all the strange and wonderful things that Master Osman reveals as he begins the search for clues.

Each chapter in this book is more engrossing than the one it follows. The mystery deepens the more we learn, and the more our horizons are expanded. The big mystery. In which art do we believe?

The finest, most glorious art is passed in review, compared and scrutinized, to look for the most unlikely tell-tale details that will identify a murderer.

So much to absorb in this chapter. The search for clues becomes a far-ranging trip around the world of Ottoman art, history and culture, and such a searching look at the talents, mastery and temperaments, and attributes of Master Osman's star pupils. This mind has a problem absorbing it all

The three portraits of Olive, Butterfly, and Stork, are gems of characterizations, as well as revelations of Master Osman's profoundest reflections on the art and artists of his age.

I can't resist a quote which proves that Osman was not the curmudgeon that he pretended to be in Chapter 38, 'one of those ornery old men',

'There are times when I think that Allah wants the world to be seen the way Butterfly illustrates it, that He wants life to be jubilation. Indeed, this is a realm where colors harmoniously recite magnificent ghazals to each other, where time stops, where the Devil never appears.' p259

and:

'...that momentary loss of faith that Jami refers to in his poetry as 'the dark night of the soul.'

Even a momentary loss? Faith is crucial.

Babi, when invited or visiting among the Turks. beware at meal or at any time to accept a second helping straight away, after of course praising the cooking flair of the hostess. Accepting at once is considered uncouth. Only after the 3rd time of being prayed to have another bite can you accept and everyone will smile knowingly at your well behaved manners.

Mmmmm. is that modesty? lol If you really don't want more, it can be awkward... as in reflecting on their capacity as cooks. Bubble

Jonathan, Isn't that how one recognizes a Rembrandt's, a Vermeer's, a great renowned artist's painting that has been newly discovered? By trying to identify the special colorings that were the favorite of a painter, or his use of the painbrush, or the positionning at a favored angle of the head, all are means to identify that work.

After reading Master Osman's descriptions of Olive and Butterfly, I stopped before reading about Stork. Butterfly's use of color remained in my mind. His fascination with the beauty of color reminded me of the colors surrounding Enishte in heaven. At the time I thought the colors portrayed the beauty of heaven.

Now, after reading about Butterfly, I remember those colors mixed with Enishte's blood. Is it possible the colors are not about heaven as much as Enishte's desire to point the finger at his murderer? Enishte's voyage into the world of color may have been the identification of a murderer.

Now on to Stork's short bio. I love the way Master Osman tells about each miniaturist.

In the Islamic faith are there seven heavens?

When you are get to the chapters where each artist is asked to draw a horse, that's where I got a clue to the murderer.

Recall how earlier we were told to know the murderer by his words? read carefully because there IS a clue there. At least, it was a clue for me, whether or not it was intended to be it led me in the right direction.

Scootz,

I do remember those words. Ok, can't wait to get to the part about each artist drawing a "horse."

Master Osman sees the three remaining miniaturists as "dear Butterfly, wise Stork and wily Olive". Interesting how one line can give a different slant on three people. Or perhaps on Master Osman.

Master Osman also gives me, at last, a hint as to how 'Allah sees the world' that makes sense and is not presumptuous. "...the Persian way of seeing the world from above". He is saying the Persian angle of vision in painting was from above, which would be as Allah would see it. Lookiing at some of the miniatures again, I can see that the perspective is from above.

I am again perplexed by the meaning of "Red". In examining the pictures part of an illustration identified as "Red", capitalized as a name, is identified as the work of Olive. It is a woman holding a large brass tray.

Then we find another part of the illustration identified as "Red", ie., the feet of charging soldiers, identified as the work of Butterfly. So we have an illustration that includes a woman holding a brass tray and charging soldiers, in a picture identified as "Red"! Now I ask you!!!

Most important, Butterfly is identified as the painter of "Death". According to Master Osman, "the unmistakable work of Butterfly". Do you recall in the chapter "I Am Death", Death says "The master miniaturist who made me now roams the streets endlessly each night in fits of regret..", just as the murderer described his own movements.

Babi

"...the Persian way of seeing the world from above". He is saying the Persian angle of vision in painting was from above, which would be as Allah would see it. Lookiing at some of the miniatures again, I can see that the perspective is from above.

babi- I hadn't noticed this either, but when I went back and looked at miniatures, I didn't see a bird's eye view perspective either. They looked "normal" to me. Can you point me to one where it's seen from above?

My Name Is Red has been, is, a curious adventure in appreciating and understanding Art, and getting to know its devotees.

The actors are driven by the same passions, if not many more, that drive others to seek fame, fortune, or fulfilment in boundless human endeavors. The idea has been slowly growing on me that what Herman Melville did for whales, Orhan Pamuk has done for Ottoman art.

I suppose we would have to allow Enishte to be the Captain Ahab in the story. The two seem somehow equally passionate and driven in their chase.

Enishte was chasing SOMETHING, with the help of his four accomplished 'harpooners'. He seemed crazy to Master Osman. When Osman thinks of Enishte he talks of 'the crazy mind of the deceased clown', 'the absurd logic of an inscrutable will', a man 'under the guidance of an arcane logic'.

'I felt renewed awe at exalted Allah's judgment in taking Enishte's life before the book was finished.'

It may seem a stretch, but I felt another hint in Osman's insight in the words,

'genuine artists have an instinctive desire to draw what's forbidden.'

Or is it the horse that does duty as the whale? As in Chapter 42. Is it more than you ever wanted to know about horses. Will we ever be able to look at an ear in any picture and wonder what it tells us about the artist?

'Come my friends, tis not too late to seek a newer world.'...

Jonathan,

Yes, all the way from Enishte to Captain Ahab.

Should we do a reading of "Moby Dick also?" Just joking.

I'm still here, but terribly behind in the reading, finally just about catching up. And doing lots of rereading.

That chapter 41, with Master Osman explaining the differences between his miniaturists to Black is fascinating. What I found especially interesting was MasterO's description of Butterfly, compared to what I felt after reading the first "I am Butterfly." There he seemed so egotistical and somewhat unpleasant, and Osman portrays him as someone quite lovable, albeit not always sure of himself.

Since the beginning, I have discounted Olive as the murderer because he is based on a real person. But now I'm not so sure. On chpt. 28, when the murderer confesses to Enishte, he says to us,"In a distant city, at a time which now seemed far from me . . . . . . I was trying to explain that I was entirely innocent to a crotchety old dottard who'd accused me of stealing paint." (p. 164) And now we have Osman telling how Olive came to Istanbul when he was 10, having been trained by a famous illustrator.

And is Babi leaning towards Butterfly, the illustrator of Death? It gets curiouser and curiouser!

Bubble, your meal description makes one wonder how many times he/she has been thought rude.

In an early chapter. Shekure's big scene. It almost didn't happen.

After twelve years away, that sudden vision of the lovely Shekure, when the window BURSTS open, as Black is riding by. Through the melancholy branches of the pomegranate tree, his happiness.

It is only thirty-some chapters later that we learn how hard and furiously she must have worked at the window to get it open. When it becomes desirable to announce to the neighborhood that her father is dead, both Shekure and her now husband, Black, have to combine their efforts on the stubborn window before forcing it out of its frame and it crashes to the ground.

Scootz, we'd never find our way out of this, without your Land Ahoys!

The more one thinks about it, the funnier it seems. Some things. Pamuk's cleverness is almost diabolical.

I wonder, will future generations get illustrated editions of My Name Is Red?

Scootz, we'd never find our way out of this, without your Land Ahoys!

Oh gosh, I doubt that's the case.

An illustrated version would be awesome!!

I would like to suggest that we read three chapters tomorrow, instead of the usual two. Not because they are very short, but because there is too much at stake for Olive, Butterfly and Stork.

Thanks to Master Osman we now know that a personalized painting quirk will identify the murderer. Hence the 'competition', or 'contest', ordered by the Sultan that each artist execute a rapid drawing of a horse, under the pretense that it is for the enjoyment of the Sultan.

I must say I was struck by Black's exaggerated, excessive modesty in the presence of the Sultan. He seems to go to pieces in the Presence of the Sovereign Ruler of the World. Then again, Master Osman has already pointed out for us that Black's existence is an uneasy swing between fear and hope. Fear of torture and hope for Shekure's love.

The Sultan's predilection, on the other hand, is the enjoyment of rivalries and mortal combat among his subjects, admitting,

'I like best the contest of doctors who compete to the death.' ch42

And it is, really, as Black tells us, a horror story of the doctors trying to kill each other. If it weren't for all the pinks, blues and greens, matched and mismatched in the story, it would have hardly any moral at all.

We can feel certain that one of the three will seal his fate with his drawing. But we can perhaps identify the murderer without seeing the drawings. By listening to what each has to say, each in his own chapter. For that reason I think it would be prjudicial to Stork, if we were to hear him out separately from Olive and Butterfly.

I'll be out of town tomorrow. Happy reading.

Just a few minutes ago I FINALLY finished YESTERDAY'S second chapter!! I can't believe how tedious those chapters felt to me. Guess I'm more 'romantic' (and I don't mean 'love and marriage' romantic, but rather, the wrap myself up in Pamuk's esoterica--in the broad sense--romantic) than 'analytical'...

But I did find myself 'at home' again in the very last paragraph of Chapter 42 and now have the will to finish Chapters 43 and 44 today as I have a feeling things are going to start getting down to the 'grrritty nitty'!!

By the way, Black still confuses me at times and I don't know why. I find myself wondering if he is ever really spontaneously sincere, well, except in his own take on his feelings for Shekure. Almost all of the rest of him seems to me to be a pantomime played for whoever he is with at the time (or should that be 'whomever' says Mrs. Bucket!).

One other exception was in the last chapter in the presense of the Sultan but even then the behavior seemed to me a mixture of the spontaneous and the contrived. Maybe that was the way people had to deal with each other in that society at that time, and especially with Sultans...a matter of life and death!

Jonathan, I see you also had an impression of Black and the 'in the presence of the Sultan bit'..."I must say I was struck by Black's exaggerated, excessive modesty in the presence of the Sultan. He seems to go to pieces in the Presence of the Sovereign Ruler of the World."

Alliemae

Oops...so...now I have the will to finish Chapters 43, 44 and 45 today...oh my...this does sound very interesting!! Looking forward to this...

Alliemae

Oh Scootz, I do agree! I usually don't pay much for books or else I get them from the library but I would be willing to pay for a hardback of this book with illustrations.

That would be awesome!!

Alliemae

Alliemae and Scootz, why not have an accompanying CD-ROM or DVD. Even have the whole book on disc, allowing for keyword searching, with links to media and background info. Then you could read print edition, but still have easy access to the other.

Actually, given the expense of full color prints, I think this will become common, or at least available, in the future.

SCOOTZ, my statement was too broad; not all miniatures are seen 'from above'. You're more apt to find that view in scenes with many people. And Osman specified the Persian miniaturists. You might like to take a look at these: P

I got thoroughly bogged down in Ch. 41. I thought Osman would never stop talking. His feelings toward Enishte Effendi are so hostile, that I find his dismissal of Enishtes opinions questionable. His views of his master miniaturists is different from Enishte's, but that doesn't tell us whose view is more accurate.

How about this sweeping statement:"Contrary to what is commonly believed, all murderers are men of extreme faith rather than unbelievers." All murderers??

Babi

SCOOTZ, my statement was too broad; not all miniatures are seen 'from above'. You're more apt to find that view in scenes with many people. And Osman specified the Persian miniaturists. You might like to take a look at these: P

No problem, Babi. I guess that for me, the view of Allah would be looking straright down on the world. These pictures, to me now, don't appear that way. They are viewing the scene head on.

I bogged down in many of the chapters. More on that when we wrap up.

Well...in 41 &/or 42, Stork was my favorite but not after reading the past three chapters! And I'm disappointed.

That was to say my own favorite of the three: Olive, Stork and Butterfly.

I still haven't got A CLUE as to who the murderer is!! Woe is me...

What I did get out of the chapters was that I wish I could draw..or paint...or even see things through the eyes of artists. It must be wonderfully exciting.

I can't wait to see all of your impressions about the three chapters. Some of you must have seen more clues than I did. Not too hard to beat 'zero'...

I'm getting very apprehensive as to what may lie ahead!

Alliemae

I wanted to learn how to draw and paint too. I especially loved the Sultan's man going to each door and asking the miniaturists to draw a horse. It reminded me of Cinderella. The prince going around the countryside asking each lady to try on the lost slipper from the ball.

I kept thinking about how would each miniaturist draw the "ears." Would he pay special attention to the ears? As the artist drew, my mind followed his dashes and curves. Orhan Pamuk does a wonderful job here, I think. My hands became the hands of the artists as if I were drawing the horse along with them. This part of the book felt had a very magical feeling.

I like to read the flaps of the book over and over again. These words stood out this time.

"Orhan Pamuk's My Name is Red is at once a fantasy and a philosophical puzzle, a kaleidoscopic journey to the intersection of art, religion, love, sex, and power."

The artist in Chapter 43 seems to be most conscious and most concerned about how much of himself he will reveal in what he draws.

Can we enjoy ourselves in the murderer's company as he walks us briskly down the darkened streets of Istanbul? Pointing out the sights, the sounds and the smells, stopping at his favorite haunts, never stopping in his efforts to explain himself with his memories, his theories, his stories and his never-ending search for self-understanding.

Pamuk succeeds, it seems to me, in making his chapters as busy and as colorful as the scenes in the Persian Paintings in Babi's link in post 578. But that is to be expected, the murderer seems to say, with his Alif/Lam/Mim syllogism on painting, which he immediately declares a discovered truth coming from the depths of his soul. Isn't that revealing of how deeply he is pondering how much of himself he may have given away in his drawing of the horse. What artistic 'fingerprints' he may have left behind.

Isn't it curious how he trys to get our sympathy with his fine sentiments?

'The beauty and mystery of this world only emerge through affection, attention, interest and compassion; if you want to live in that paradise where happy mares and stallions live, open your eyes wide and actually see this world by attending to its colors, details and irony.' p282

Is he also saying, save some of your 'affection, attention, interest and compassion' for me?

The mesmerizing talk, while we're hurried through the Chicken Sellers' Market, the slave market! And more talk as we stop to eat in 'the soup kitchen of the downtrodden and miserable', or linger in the abandoned Dervish Lodge to watch the murderer's futile attempts to draw his own face. And finally off once more to the Coffeehouse, with its atmosphere so offensive to the murderer's artistic sensibilities.

jokes, indecent stories, exaggerated gestures, and clever talk with a lot of double entendres, inuendos and puns - how stimulating or depressing that can be

And soon enough we're revisiting familiar territory, as the storyteller begins his tale about Satan, or the picture of whom the murderer has himself drawn.

'The Devil made me do it', the murderer had said to Enishte, before killing him.

All this from the man who himself listens to silence, studies Sheikh Osman Baba's Lives of the Saints, and seeks the blindness that is found in the Darkness of Allah.

'Every night a sorrow overwhelms me, a misery descends upon me....Some nights, I dream that he emerges from the well and comes after me...'

Yes, they are all there.

Well, I've found another 'favorite' character right up there with Esther.

Ayup...the Devil! So far, the Devil makes the most sense to me out of all the characters. (hope I don't get struck down for that one!!)

I'm going back a little now to read about Olive, Stork and Butterfly again and then forward again to today's chapter 44. There must be clues I'm missing...

I'm also wondering also if Pamuk's little (or not so little) 'fixations' will be present in his other books. I am very interested in this writer...is it the times? the Ottomans? or the author's psyche??

Jonathan, is this today's only chapter?

Alliemae

Hats, I love your analogies, especially comparing drawing horses to trying on the shoes in Cinderella. You have a wonderful knack for zeroing in right to the point.

Pat has put all your links so far up on the "More LInks" page. Thanks, Pat. If we have missed anything that any of you have shared with us, please email me. I hope the rest of you have found the links page as useful as I have. Loved the Persian Paintings, Babi.

Pedln and Pat,

Thank you for adding Babi's miniatures to the links page.

Babi, the paintings are beautiful!

All that intense study of paintings, looking for another example of the disparity in the nostrils of the horse. Then arranging for the prime suspects to draw a horse, to see if one of them will give himself away by repeating the 'flaw'.

In reading these chapters, I remembered having read something about just such a small change in the nostrils of a horse painting before. It was back when each of the three masters has told Black three parables illustrating questions on style, signatures, time, memory, etc. I went back and found it; the story of the three miniaturists competing for the hand of the Shah's daughter. One of them was eliminated from the competition for 'depicting strangely the nostrils of the white horse'. It was in Ch. 12; "I Am Butterfly".

Babi

Earlier today AOL, my ISP, cut me off, just as I was about to send a long post. This is my first chance in trying to reconstruct it.

Re-reading has helped me clarify some of my own perceptions/reactions, and your posts have been helpful, as always.
Referring to a previous post, yes, Master Osman's disapproval of Enishte Effendi is palpable : he calls him "the deceased fool" and "deceased clown" (pp. 249-250 and elsewhere). He is frankly glad the Enishte is dead and gone.

Like no other protagonist in this book, these two men, Enishte Effendi and Master Osman, represent IMHO the widening gulf between tradition and new thought = progress at the time in which the novel is set.

I understand that Pamuk studied art and architecture, which explains his intimate understanding of (perhaps even obsession with) the subject matter. The book was/is hugely popular in Turkey, and no wonder : it is a paean, jubilant praise for a great, unforgotten past - though the winds of time have long since created a new order. And the Enishte's prediction came true.

At this point, we are no closer to the identity of the murderer. Pamuk is determined to keep it from us as long as he can --- until he has said all he wants to say. One understands that the author is impassioned, it is obvious. But there are repetitions in rather long paragraphs that could lead one to read over them ... Several exchanges (between the murderer nd Enishte Effendi, between Black and Master Osman, for example) resemble mini-lectures.

And yes, Pamuk is not always consistent : early on the reader learns it was Enishte Effendi who bestowed nicknames on the favorite miniaturits; in chapter 41 Master Osman claims HE did.

To advance a story by telling it in chapters by different voices is unique and quite effective; still, the creator, the hands of the master puppeteer, are unmistakeably there : i.e. in the methodical enumeration of things, facts, choices, 1, 2, 3 ...

Black is repeatedly referred to as "naive", "childlike" by Sheruke and Master Osman and I wonder why that is. I like the character very much; Black is innocent and untainted as far as the painting style is concerned. Why is he being dismissed by the author ?

Character seems difficult to establish in this book. Is it because we do not get an author's usual ongoing estimation or insight into his own creations? Here we can only guess at it because we hear only from the character herself/himself and that's obviously very subjective, or reflects a culture that did not encourage display of individuality. Hence the attractions of the Venetian style. We'll soon see that Frankish art was considered a form of self-worship, and a forgetting of Allah, and thus forbidden. Then too, we hear only what they think of each other. And that is usually very meanly. Was it the intense competition in the artists' circle at court? It is primarily a male culture that is depicted in the book, as no doubt everybody has noticed.

Alliemae, I'm not surprised to hear that you have found a friend in the devil. How could anyone read Chapter 47, and not feel very kindly towards him. Or should we now also say 'her'?

If we want to stay on schedule, we should be reading Chapters 47 and 48, tomorrow, the 24th of the month.

How quickly the weeks are flying by. Little more than a week left. Perhaps we should allow general comments and opinions on the book in the last week. Everything from, has it changed your life, has it enhanced your appreciation and understanding of things Islamic, has Pamuk discovered a new genre of literature. Can the book endure as a meaningful piece of literature?

But first we must identify the murderer. And determing if Black and Shekure's marriage will ever get off the ground. Many, many loose ends still laying about.

Hi pedln...I've been thinking about your suggestion and wondering if I was just wishing that my copy of the book had illustrations of the Ottoman art, a subject I'm not too familiar with.

On the other hand, look how much fun we've had looking at all the wonderful posts of links to the art...

I do still wish that Pamuk had put a map of Istanbul, personalized to the locations and characters, into the book.

Good question, pedln...something to think about.

Alliemae

I have just noticed the Turkish flag in the heading. At first I thought I was seeing things...whew...my heart just skipped a beat!! (Don't ask me why...sometimes I think it might be 'karma' from a past life!!)

Alliemae

I had the same reaction with that flag! lol I thought they took over SN!

Me too! Why the change? Will the end of the book tell us more about Turkey or is this a celebration of Turkey?

I'm still not understanding Pamuk's writing.

I think I have a 'love/utter disdain' relationship with his writing.

First of all, if this is Shekure and Black's idea of foreplay, their love scenes might be rather violent to say the least! More like something out of a cheap Harlequin type novel about love in the Harem than that of a couple in love.

Pamuk certainly seems to me to swoop down from the heights of romanticism to the muddy depths of the rawest carnality and even hurtfulness at times...and not just in this chapter. So, he confuses me.

Actually, with all the different 'narrators' I feel as though I have to re-read the book to look for a 'supra-narrator'...is there one? Has anyone noticed? Have I just missed who the actual 'narrator' is? I definitely need help on this one.

And I'm wondering if Shekure if based on someone in the author's life, or is it just the way he wrote the character, or if Pamuk is anti-love...OR if Pamuk is a 'closet misogynist'.

Still love the book and the author so far...

Alliemae

Bubble, YES!

I had been posting and just saw your post! It really was a shock, wasn't it!!

Alliemae

Independence day on Turkey is 29 October, so that was not the reason for the flag. lol

And it is VERY red.

Traude, I am so glad you said that! I thought it was me!! I was so sure I must have missed THE CLUE...

I am so relieved...

Alliemae

lol is right!!

Do you think perhaps Pamuk put the flag there?

And what's so funny is we are at that point in the book where anything sneaking up on us is could make us jump!!

Alliemae

Strange... It must be the murderer, to make us busy looking at something else than his identity!

This red he has put on everything. It has all just been flag waving.

Having said that, the Devil goes on to tell what really happened on the day he was thrown out of Heaven. It's really quite amazing to hear him tell it.

It seems only fair that we should also hear from Satan in this strange case, since he stands accused by the murderer as the instigator of the first murder, when Elegant ended up at the bottom of the well.

In the second murder, as we remember, it was Master Osman's opinion that the murderer was the chosen instrument of God in getting Enishte out of this world.

We have known all along that the motivation in the murders was far too complicated to allow for such easy answers.

The Devil does have a curious tale to tell about himself. It does seem to have the ring of truth about it. Far from being the father of all lies, he seems to be the epitome of candor and truth. The role he has played in human affairs derive, he tells us, from the deal he made with God, to make mankind more manageable for God.

Satan readily admits he likes it hot, having a fondness for 'the smell of red peppers frying in oil', suggesting that the coffeehouse was redolent with its fine aroma. Hell holds no terror for him, since he is made of fire, and will presumably feel quite at home there, perhaps even feel gratified being consumed by the flames.

How he got on the wrong side of God, every reader will have to determine for herself. What Satan wants clearly understood is that he is not to be blamed, as the hoja claims, for every 'gape, sneeze or even fart' committed by man.

Then why did the murderer do it? The Devil trys to be helpful with his suggestion to the coffee-drinking crowd that,

'Many people sin out of their own blind ambition, lust, lack of willpower, baseness, and most often, out of their own idiocy, without any instigation, deception or temptation on my part.' p289

There goes the murderer's easy, self-deceiving defense.

Jonathan, you have said, very eloquently, so much that I wasn't able to about that chapter and my perceptions of the Devil as portrayed in the book.

During the reading of that chapter my thoughts kept going back to my indignant feelings about Judas being blamed as the one who 'betrayed' Jesus Christ, even though the entire story had been played out as 'preordained'...so how could it have been Judas' fault...

...and how could anything have been the Devil's fault?

Alliemae

Alliemae, you said it for me about Chapter 48, in your post #596. You hit on a lot of good points regarding the book as a whole, and specifically on Shekure's strange character and fate. I didn't know what to say about the strange goings-on in her heart and mind.

She's very real. If you want to see a picture of her, with her two boys, get Pamuk's latest book, ISTANBUL, and turn to page 79. The three of them reflected in a mirror. A fourth person in that picture would only be an intruder.

Another month in Istanbul, anyone? Perhaps in fall? The book is marvellous. Full of surprises. With numerous black and white scenes of the city. It's a melancholy book, in its best sense.

Here's a quote from it, which might help in understanding MNIR. The scene takes place in a meyhane, which sounds something like a coffeehouse. Kocu was a writer working on a cultural encyclopedia of Istanbul.

'Between 1950 and 1970, Kocu liked to begin his evenings in conversation with his friends at the encyclopedia offices, retiring later to a meyhane in Sirkeci. There were never any women with them: This celebrated band of writers lived in an unapologetically male world that might be deemed the last representatives of Divan literature and Ottoman male culture. With its familiar female stereotypes, its zest for romance, its association of sex with sin, filth, trickery, deception, perversion, degradation, weakness, disaster, guilt, and fear, this traditional male culture manifests itself on every page of the encyclopedia...' p164

Poor Shekure. She looks at Black through the eyes of her boys. Sometimes. They would like to see him dead. He killed their father, and now he has killed their grandfather.

"Another month in Istanbul, anyone?" (Jonathan)

Jonathan, I think you know my answer...Count me IN!!

Alliemae

I find myself nodding in agreement with many of Satan's statements. Should I be worried?

I am reminded of the story of the young charismatic pastor who, at the request of a troubled parishioner, attempted on three occasions to drive Satan out of him with the appropriate scriptures, calling on the name of Jesus. After a temporary improvement, the parishioner would fall back into his old sins. The young pastor went to his mentor, an older and wiser pastor.

On hearing the story, he explained that the young mans efforts were in vain because he wasn't dealing with the Devil; he was dealing with human nature.

Other than that, I found this chapter more crude than most, and would just as soon have skipped it. As Jonathan noted, Pamuk's swings from the sublime to the sordid are unsettling.

Babi

But doesn't this writing style simply mirror the culture he is presenting? The culture might be easier to take with a more modern style, but I don't think it would cast the impressions it does.

Pamuk is a powerful writer.

Jonathan, Osman's Turkey? Or Pamuk's Istanbul? I would like to read about Turkey or the Ottoman Empire by a different author, to get variety to my view of this strange world. Although I will be reading more Pamuk.

Kleo

"... from the sublime to the sordid ..." . I agree.
In an earlier post I mentioned "intense physicality" for precisely that reason.

It may well be the patriarchal culture, obedience to Islamic teaching, and the strict separation of the sexes, that awaken an obsessive preoccupation with one's physical functions, but some expressions used by Pamuk in these latest chapters are coarse and crude.
I believe it is important not only WHAT one says (or writes), but HOW. C'est le ton qui fait la musique = The tone makes the music.

BaBi, Traude. You are right of course about those extremes in expressing himself for Pamuk. Reading the comments here, I was surprised that I didn't reacted the same way. I would have if it was an English, or French or Spanish writer. I now realize that I "expected" this from a Levantine author. People I have met from these shores can be at the same time very refined and very vulgar. I always considered that to be caused by a different culture. I particularly remember the ribald jests and calls to the groom at Turkish weddings.

I am told that Chinese men among themselves also tell very gross jokes and have those belly laughs about those varied physical functions (thanks for the wording, Traude!).

Pamuk is just being a typical male of his region. Bubble

Thanks, BUBBLE, for the cultural insight. It will help me to make allowances for some of the things I'm reading. I can shrug and think, 'Well, what can you expect from a Levantine?'.

I am fascinated by the huge variety of objects in the Sultan's treasure room. I'd love to explore a place like that. (Wouldn't we all?!!) I would never have thought, tho' I suppose it makes sense, that everything would be covered with dust. So much so that it robbed much of the 'treasure' of it's color and identity. I'm sure there's matter for a parable or sermon there.

I was also fascinated by the lyrical explanation of 'memory' in illumination. The thought that it is the perfection of Allah's original creation that the miniaturists seek to preserve by copying exactly the works that came before them. Of course, I'm sure there were no miniaturists and illuminators at the dawn of creation, but 'vision' is also possible. It is vision, the "mysterious wisdom", that permits one artist to reproduce exactly a scene painted long ago by another artist, even tho' he has never seen that painting. So, perhaps it is 'vision', 'mysterious wisdom', that tells the artist what creation looked like in its original perfection? At any rate, it's nice to think about.

Babi

Bubble, yes, I think you're right here: "People I have met from these shores can be at the same time very refined and very vulgar." And that it is something cultural, so it doesn't seem that offensive to some, while others are a bit shocked.

Pamuk does it earlier in the book, also. It's just not as much.

Kleo

This Turkish flag was adopted and used on and off since the 17th century according to on-line sources (none in-depth). It's not supposed to be an emblem of Islam, unlike other similar flags. I used to like the beginning or end of Ramadan every year when you see, I guess it's Venus(?), and the crescent moon in the sky, but lately it's just reminded me of all the terror, Shiites killing Suniis bombing Shiite mosques shooting Sunis at prayer carbombing Shiites terrorizing Sunis.

Kleo

All about the Turkish flag

http://www.allaboutmarmaris.com/Miscellaneous/Turkish%20Flag.htm

http://www.worldflags101.com/t/turkey-flag.aspx

http://www.flags-flags-flags.org.uk/turkish-flag.htm

It must have rained heavily during the night. Black says the backstreets of Istanbul were muddy, as he made his way to the mosque to pray, in the early morning darkness.

He's in low spirits. Marriage has not brought him the happiness and comfort he longed for in coming back to Istanbul. Sad to say. He has just now left left his new home feeling like a 'guilty houseguest.' Not even knowing that it will be two days and a night before he sees his beloved wife once more.

What an adventure awaits him, when he will be spending the two days and a night locked in the Sultan's Treasury, examining, in the company of Master Osman, the countless, priceless artifacts and objets d'art.

Just like the book itself. Every reader must shake her head in wonder over the thousand incidents, the thousand images, that serve so well in stocking the bookworm's mind. Even murderers are forgotten as we look on, and listen mesmerized.

For me, the ever-recurring appearances of the jinns has been a cause for speculation and amusement. Mostly they seem to make problems for those who are aware of them. As, for example, when Shekure talks of a 'fit of jinn-panic (p46). They're used to frighten children. Or to account for something strange in the air. Early on I began to make a note of every appearance.

And now, sometime before daybreak, it struck me. Out of the blue, or should I say out of the red. There it is , in the Devil's monologue, on page 288:

'You're well aware that my name, which appears in the Glorious Koran fifty-two times, is one of the most frequently cited.'

This now rings a bell. Sure enough that is the number of times Jinns are cited in MY NAME IS RED! Well! Where does this take us?

As for Satan. His appearances in the book are not without irony and ambiguity. One of the most mystifying lines in the book is the one in which Satan declares:

'I am not Allah, God forbid.' p289

And now we find Satan in a picture in the Treasury, looking embarrassed at having to witness the depravity of a human being.

We just have to imagine the Nusret Hoja of Erzurum shaking his head, and thinking that those coffee drinkers have entirely too much respect for the devil.

I have no doubt that Pamuk felt the need to include the 'coarse and crude', in order to give a truthful account of his artistic vision.

'Frightened?' asked the elderly dwarf, giving voice to my feelings. 'Everybody is frightened on their first visit. At night the spirits of these objects whisper to each other.' p299

There are stories we have to imagine for ourselves.

If you are superstitious, believe you need something blue on you to ward against evil eye, of course you would also half believe in jinns, don't you think?

Bubble,

Thank you for sharing the differences in the Turkish culture. The bold, explicit sexual descriptions became, in my mind, Pamuk's personal style of writing.

Thank you also for the links to the flag.

Jonathan,

Your outline of chapter 49 is very helpful. After chapter 50, I became a little bit lost. I felt like screaming "help!" I am anxious to read what you say about chapter 50.

I love the flag in the heading. It is a celebration of a country's identity. After reading the links about Turkey's flag, I think, the flag explains the title of the book.

Here goes, Hats.

The dervishes feel misunderstood, or even demonized:

'According to the Hojas, we're in Hell.'

'The infidel drew us as if we were blind, although we could see just fine.'

Doesn't this chapter make one want to learn more about this strange, exotic sect, that captures the imagination in a tantalyzing way? And knowing something about them may be germane to solving the murder of Elegant and Enishte. As we know, the abandoned Dervish Lodge is the murderer's second home. And, just in the last chapter, Black thinks of Master Osman and himself as 'the elderly dervish and aspiring disciple.'

What an interesting tale the dervishes have to tell about their travels, before ending up in the Sultan's Treasury. Adding:

'From there, copied over and over, we moved from one secret book to another.'

From there? Their picture left the well-Sealed Treasury? More secret books? Didn't one of those three chief suspects admit to bribing, or at least getting Jezmi Agha, the elderly dwarf custodian of the Sultan's treaures, to bring him drawings secretly from the Treasury for his perusal? That clears Black. Everything in the Treasury is new for him. That's what he says.

But it's the hojas, according to the storyteller, who are always seeing depravity and evil where there is none, well, perhaps, if there is, 'they recognize it because, in reality, (being guilty of it themselves) they are fellow-travellers with us.'

There's more to it than this, but I have to dress for dinner.

HATS, I agree, chapter 50 is mystifying.
Who ARE those two dervishes, dead for one hundred and ten years (pg.307), whose picture was painted by a "Frank" in the Venetian style?

That painter, we read, returned "to his infidel city. Soon afterward the victorious armies of the Ottomans conquered and plundered that city on the Danube ... etc."

That city on the Danube was Vienna, I believe. One such attack happened in 1532.

But what IS the connection to the murderer? Is it possible that a bawdy folk tale actually exists about two such individuals that coffeehouse menfolk talk about when their tongues are loosened by wine ? Is the entire chapter told by the coffeehouse narrator? It nust be he who added the two parables! Is there a clue on pg. 307 ?

When we last heard from the murderer, he was a tortured, restless soul perhaps on the verge of madness, fearing that people are hot on his track. Are they ?

My Sunday morning has flown away while reading this strangest of all chapters. I can't remember ever reading anything like it. All the time caught up in the old man's excitement, crouched over the pictures,

'in the exquisite and terrifying darkness of the cluttered Treasury'

What beautiful things he points out. What legendary stories he tells. What esoteric thoughts on painting. What euphoric mysticism. What a memory lane for him. This reader comes out of the chapter feeling something like culture shock.

Tell it again, Master Osman.

'Hundreds of years hence, men looking at our world through illustrations we've made won't understand anything. Desiring to take a closer look, yet lacking the patience, they might feel the embarrassment, the joy, the deep pain and pleasure of observation I now feel as I examine pictures in this freezing Treasury -

'but they'll never truly know. As I turned the pages with my old fingers numbed from the cold, my trusty mother-of-pearl-handled magnifying lens and my left eye passed over the pictures like an old stork traversing the earth, little surprised by the view below, yet still astonished to see new things.

'From these pages withheld from us for years, some of them legendary, I came to know which artist had learned what from whom, in which workshop under which shah's patronage the thing we now call 'style' first took shape, which fabled master had worked for whom, and how, for example, the curling Chinese clouds I knew had spread throughout Persia from Herat under Chinese influence were also used in Kazvin.

'I would occasionally allow myself an exhausted "Ah!"; but an agony lurked deeper within me, a melancholy and regret I can scarcely share with you for the belittled, tormented, pretty, moon-faced, gazelle-eyed, sapling-thin painters - battered by masters - who suffered for their art,

'yet remained full of excitement and hope, enjoying the affection that developed between them and their masters and their shared love of painting, before succumbing to anonymity and blindness after long years of toil.' p315

I believe I'll enjoy the chapter one more time.

I fear my page numbers do not match those in the posts. My paperback copy has page 307 way back in Ch. 41, for example.

"Hundreds of years hence, men looking at our world through illustrations we've made won't understand anything." I had this line tabbed, too, Jonathan. I found it rather sad, to consider that the work one has devoted one's life too will be meaningless one day.

Master Osman is fulfilling the dream of a lifetime, spending days and nights poring over the masterpieces of his art. He isn't really looking for horses with flawed nostrils anymore, is he? This is a kind of culmination for him, and he repeatedly thanks Allah for this great privilege. I know what's coming. He wants his career to end here, amid all this beauty and glory, not in the torturer's chambers.

Babi

I find it very sad that all those masterpieces are hidden away and cannot be enjoyed freely. No wonder they lose their meaning and will be forgotten.

BaBi, I was referring to the second paragraph of this chapter that begins with
"One hundred and ten years have passed since our deaths, forty since the closing of our irredeemable, Persia-partisan dervish lodges, ...." and ends with
"As this illustration indicates, one day we two dervishes were tramping through Our Sultan's domains from one city to the next."

I believe this paragraph contains at least one important clue (perhaps more) as to the identity of the murderer: We were told repeatedly that he, the murderer, lived in an abandoned dervish lodge and constantly, restlessly roamed the city.

The "infidel city on the Danube" mentioned in the last paragraph of this chapter can be none other than Vienna, I believe, and if the (unspecified) date of that Ottoman victory WAS - in fact- 1532 (speculation on my part), the time element would be a fit.

What about the "illustration" ? Is that hidden away in the cold, dusty, heavily guarded palace where Black and Master Osman feast their eyes on all the forbidden splendor ?

But who is the other dervish ?
Satan ?

I'm still having to force myself to finish them...wish me luck!!

Alliemae

I finally made it through today's chapters!

I think I was feeling more than a little claustrophobic locked up in the damp and dark with the strange acting Master Osman and that poor dwarf who had to run back and forth fetching more and more books.

I say 'poor dwarf'--but I got the feeling while in that room that maybe the dwarf knew more than they thought he did, and I don't know where that was coming from...

Anyway, as soon as Black left Master Osman and went out into the fresh air I felt instantly revived and was not only able to finish today's chapters but also our chapters for tomorrow...and once again 'my' Pamuk was back!

I found poring over those art books tedious to say the least!

Alliemae

Take your time with them, Alliemae. Yes, it is easy to get bogged down in these chapters, 51 and 52. It's not easy reading, with such a vast amount of detail. And then the atmosphere is chilling. The pictures and the stories the old Master Osman has to tell about them are engrossing. In the process he reveals his character, and suddenly he, himself, becomes a suspect in the mystery. Everything he has worked for is in danger of being replaced by the work of Enishte. Enishte has alienated Osman's favorites, Butterfly, Stork and Olive. It was a betrayal on their part to paint for Enishte. He seems to relish the thought of their being tortured.

Isn't it interesting. Black listens to Osman explain his theory of 'harmony' in the workshop, and soon he realizes that it is the all-powerful authority that Osman wants to exercise, demanding conformity from his painters and illustrators.

Enishte, on the other hand, asks for originality from those he has contracted with for help with his secret book. Draw me a picture of death, of a tree, of a dog, etc.

Black's feelings towards Master Osman change from awe to pity and revulsion. He praises Osman, and is bothered by his own insincerity in praising the master. Be that as it may. I feel that Black was saying it for me, when he said:

'My dear Master, it's been the greatest honor of my life to look at these masterpieces by the old legendary masters with you.' p333, my copy

It is my understanding that much of what we are hearing, is what Pamuk has looked at, since this 'secret' art was made available fifty years ago.

Chapter 52 ends with such great humor from Black. On a take, on the old saying that the pen is mightier than the sword, Black solemnly says that the sword he has just buckled on, gives him a lot of 'inner peace and balance'. Quite true. The author's pen in this book has made us shudder often enough, and there are frights and scares galore in these last two chapters. And that beautiful line:

'Books, which we mistake for consolation, only add depth to our sorrow.'

Finally out of the claustrophobic Treasury, Black rushes home, to find his new family gone. How charmingly he describes his sorry situation:

'I went down to the courtyard. The sparrow, which had been drinking water from the well-bucket, had flown away. As if abandoning a sinking ship (!), I left the house to the silence of an impending darkness. (great understatement)

My heart, now more confident, told me to run and find them. I ran, but I slowed through crowded places and the mosque courtyards where dogs picked up my trail and joyously followed, anticipating some kind of amusement.' (are there always dogs in these courtyards?)

That strikes me as funny, and a fine way to get out of the Treasury for some fresh air. Why don't we go on to the next chapters. It's Esther's turn, and she's always down to earth and interesting. And then back to the coffeehouse for the strangest story of all. Let's move on. I hope it's not too disappointing that there has been so much in the book that hasn't been talked about for lack of time. And I keep wondering how much most of us are probably missing because of cultural idioms we're unfamiliar with. Even so, I feel I'm getting an idea of the Turkish mind.

Each new reading of this book will uncover new insight we missed the previous time. It is replete with details in every line.

Whoopee Jonathan??? Have you found out the ....? Bubble

TRAUDE, thanks for going back and explaining the clues from the chapter on the dervishes. I didn't think the murderer lived in the abandoned dervish house, since our three miniaturists have homes. I thought he just went there when he was restless and nervous. Won't we all be shocked if we discover our murderer is none of the prime suspects?!

JONATHAN, I had been thinking that all the detailed description of the art must be Pamuk sharing with us the things he loves. Glad to have that confirmed, as it makes it a bit easier to read it all.

"Books, which we mistake for consolation, only add depth to our sorrow." "Only"? Ah,no. Books do comfort, do add depth to our sorrows and also heights. Books expand all our experience, amuse, entertain, and fill in endless hours.

Master Osman has claimed that Stork is the murderer, but I don't believe him. He has to come up with a murderer, or face torture along with his master miniaturists. He tells Black, quite revealingly to my mind, "But my concern is not for your Enishte, it's for my workshop." We read earlier that Master Osman considers Butterfly most likely to successfully continue with the workshop in Master Osman's style, tho' Stork was the more skilled and more accomplished and would be considered the more worthy successor. By accusing Stork, Master Osman is trying to ensure the purity and continuity of 'his' workshop.

It is good to have Esther back. She seems to see things more clearly, more realistically. And she does she Shekure very clearly. "I once again understood regretfully how deceptive and calculating this Shekure as she embraced her two boys and wailed with all her being rather than answer.

I think it is an ingrained survival habit. Shekure wants to leave all her options open, closing no door thru' which she might later need to bolt. She does that by making no choice, no commitment. If she just wails and makes no decision, neither claimant on her can hold her to blame. She came to Hassan's house, she says, because she of Shevket; she had no choice. Black cannot fault her for that. Now she will not be the one to open the door, for that would be to admit Black. Hassan would fault her for that. She will let events take their course,and may the best man win!

Babi

My apologies for diverting, but I couldn't pass this up.

If the Ottoman Empire were restored, this 93-year-old tenant of the 3rd floor walk-up on Lexington Ave. in New York City would become the head of the dynasty. His rent-controlled apartment is in disrepair, but that doesn't keep him and his wife from speaking knowledgeably in English, Turkish and French — about music, art and politics. I wonder if he has read My Name is Red

A fun article from yesterday's New York Times, made more so by this Master Osman.

His Imperial Highness Prince Osman Ertugrul

I'm so far behind in reading, but am still following and enjoying the posts.

What a wonderful, wonderful article. You have made my day...I had no idea anyone was left from the Ottoman Empire. How lovely...

They sound so super-cool!!!

Alliemae

Jonathan, when I read this sentence I couldn't express how it impacted me...but it did impact me. Only twelve words and they seemed to say so much, about Master Osman, Black, all the other miniaturists from all times...and even the society of the Ottomans, to say nothing of myself and how I could relate personally to it just through my experiencing of this book and my experiences and studies of and in Turkey.

I'll not read it before bed again. Last night I had a nightmare that I was in a 'dark room' and I was trying to keep some dangerous person(s) out but there were hidden doors everywhere and I just couldn't keep up with barricading them with large, dark, antique and majestic furniture which was in the room. I woke up with my heart pounding and was terrified and physically exhausted! I lived through it, obviously, or I wouldn't be posting...but this is not a book I'll use for 'bedtime' reading. No...better a hot beverage and a DULL book before bed!!

Jonathan, you've got it in one! Expressed so eloquently (yes, and even humorously!) my own experience in the reading of those two chapters.

BaBi and Traude, your 'sane and sensible' approach to the book and your explanations and insights help me to keep my head above water while reading this book...and I thank you both!

"Each new reading of this book will uncover new insight we missed the previous time. It is replete with details in every line. (Bubble)

How true a statement, Bubble. I've frequently wondered how many more times in my lifetime I will read 'Red'...I'm sure I've missed a lot of details and I'm sure I'll find pleasure in re-reading this book.

Alliemae

What a wonderful article! It just adds a special and unique note to the whole discussion. Ertugrul Osman, the ninety-three year old prince, and his wife, the princess. Unbelievable. I do wonder if either the prince or princess have read "My Name is Red." I wish we could make a phone call to New York and ask that question.

I love the needlepoint pillow that belongs to the princess. "It's not easy being a princess."

The couple are so earthy and practical. Mr. Osman clearly says the empire will never return. What could have been his home, Dolmabahce Palace" is now a museum. Turkish royals living in New York and talking about cat hairs too.

Since this is my book, I am going to print out the article and slide it inside my book. Talk about perfect timing. This is great.

I call the finding of this article a taste of serendipity.

Hats, my first thought was to email the author of the article, but his email address was not available. I then sent for a listing of NYT staff members who have made their addresses available, but his (the author's) was not on the list.

"Last night I had a nightmare that I was in a 'dark room' and I was trying to keep some dangerous person(s) out but there were hidden doors everywhere" Alliemae, whew. You surely are being affected by this book. After reading that first chapter about Black and Osman in with the Sultan's treasures, my sympathies were all with Black. I don't blame him for wanting to leave, and regretting his decision to stay with Master Osman.

Hats,I loved that too...in fact, I was thinking of making it for one of my daughters but I wouldn't be able to choose which one!! lol I'm sure they'd fight over which of them deserves something like that pillow...

pedln re: "Alliemae, whew. You surely are being affected by this book." Well, it might have been a combination of the book AND the salami sandwich come to think of it!! When will I ever learn...

Alliemae

And all that apartment for $350 a month!

Hats, do you want to break the old gentleman's heart by reminding him of all he has lost, according to the book? Would you want to make the Princess jealous?

This reminds me, that we had Duchess Olga, the last Russian Czar's sister, living very modestly here in Toronto, for a long time, until her death. For a while, I believe, above Feinstein's Deli on Queen.

Wouldn't we have a lot of questions to ask the Prince. I think we're all beginning to realize what a wonderful book this is. Keep them in fear of torture. What a way to rule.

Back to the story. Nobody tells it like Esther. She is the best illustrator of them all. What a wonderful miniature of Turkish life Chapter 53, especially, in this chapter, of a woman's place in this society. The book goes back and forth, between picture and story. We must see the one in the other. It's Turkish.

'I'm Esther, and my grandmother used to tell me that Turks would often kill a man for no reason.' Now we find out, after looking for reasons for 350 pages.

'And make this your last visit, fat lady.' Say goodbye to Esther? I'd like to wring little Shevket's neck.

Esther: 'Why had I stuck my nose into this affair?...Curiosity was eating at me.'

Black: 'Why, of why, did I ever come back to Istanbul? For a picture?'

After watching the bloody destruction of the coffeehouse, and hearing of the ill-effects of coffee, Esther reminds herself that she must remind her husband Nesim to drink less.

On one occasion, when I was a teen-ager, I found myself pouring coffee for a dozen Reverends sitting in a circle. All leaders in our religious community. Half way around I was told by one of them in a strong voice, 'I don't drink coffee. I'm a Christian.' A long silence. Much embarrassment all around. Finally, after reading My Name Is Red, I feel the preacher was justified in the way he felt about coffee. I'm switching to decaf myself. I know it's a half-measure, but my moral convictions are usually at half strength anyways.

I'm tempted to suggest we stop at this chapter for a week, to take it apart for all it tells us about the folks who live in Istanbul. How much of Pamuk is satire?

Did you notice, Babi, who eventually had to open the door, to get things moving? Little Orhan.

Isn't it hilarious to find Esther embedded in Black's little rag-tag army on his way to fetch his wife. And Ester becomes the military tactician.

Come to think of it, my Nanna was a member of the Women's Christian Temperance Union and she never, ever drank coffee, pepsi or coke or any other beverage with caffeine.

She did drink her tea. Different stimulant I think.

Alliemae

Oops...sorry about the digression!

Or are you saying that we will be reading Pamuk's ISTANBUL??

Either way, I'm fine! Do hope it's about the book.

I'm going back to Istanbul and finish reading the 2nd of today's chapters right now...or is that what you meant?

Alliemae

There are plenty of Ottoman Turks alive today. They were officially given Turkish citizenship a few years ago, by the Turkish government. Unlike the Armenians or other groups, I don't know there was ever an official genocide campaign against the Ottoman Turks, but this is indicative of my lack of knowledge of history of the area, not of this being the case.

And, yes, I asked Alliemae's question earlier and would still like an answer, is the intention to read Pamuk's Istanbul or some other book on Istanbul and the Ottoman Empire? I'm interesting in Caroline Finkel's Osman's Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire because it's such a luscious book--haven't read more than a few paragraphs, but maybe as it's new, we could get the author here.

Osman's Dream

Kleo

Alliemae,

You could needlepoint two pillows in different colors.

Anyway, I love the saying on the pillow. I also love your dream. I am glad you are the one who had the dream and not me. I expected some sort of nightmare after being in those rooms with Master Osman, too stuffy and dark.

Jonathan and all, your comments are read very closely by me. There is something in the chapters I always miss or don't understand.

I did enjoy Esther's walk through the Istanbul streets with Black. I could hear chairs falling and tables falling during the brawl in the coffeehourse. What a mess!

I really like Black. He loves Shekut so much. Master Osman did hold him long enough in the treasury. I think Orhan is adorable. His brother? He reminds me of a younger Eddie Haskell from "Leave It to Beaver." As the grownups would say, "he's in the business of grownups too much and needs to go play and act like a child.

I can't say one word against coffee. I love the smell and taste of coffee. Without coffee my mind is a closed book.

Sorry. I didn't spell "Shekure's name correctly. I meant to have written about Shekure and her son, Shekut.

Isn't this chapter a Pandora's box of human mystery, viz. human sexuality, or human emotional and spiritual proclivities, or the frank and open enjoyment of forbidden fruit, in a conflicted society?

It's the last straw for the Nusret Hoja and his followers. The storyteller has to die.

His last story is a touching thing indeed. He accepts the challenge, when the miniaturists present him with the picture of a woman. It seems natural enough coming from artists. What is it we are painting, when we paint a dog, a tree, a horse, a coin? Or that other half of our humanity that's kept out of sight behind walls and window shutters? The other half of everyman's being? It's been pretty obvious all along that this society tries to get along without women, and the storyteller is honest enough to reveal that it's only to avoid 'pangs of lust and deep spiritual pain'.

This is avoidance of the strangest kind. What a price they pay with their spiritual and physical aberrations. What strange practices at the Ottoman Court and in the Sultan's ateliers.

The storyteller's very last story, The Love Story Told by a Woman Prompted by the Devil, is truly a story from a man-made Hell.

I had Pamuk's ISTANBUL in mind, in a future discussion.

We have been treated to tons of Ottoman history in this book, despite the fact that everything takes place in seven days. The artistic side of history, it's true, but they crowded so much into their miniatures. Love and hate. The fall of empires. Alexander, dying of a nosebleed. Glimpses of women in windows. The bloodbaths on the way to a throne. I can't think of anything that Pamuk left out.

I've just found a note I made along the way. For something on Istanbul. Lady Craven's Istanbul: A Journey Through the Crimea to Constantinople. I'll check it out. It came recommended.

Jonathan, you may have answered my question in this sentence but I still don't understand.

Here was my take on Ch. 54:

This chapter seemed so full of nuance and as veiled as a woman of the harem, I may never get ALL the meaning from it if I read it daily for the rest of my life. The poem on p. 354 was exquisite in its depth. Is this the author speaking? Is this some other character like 'the dog' or any of the other characters speaking at the coffeehouse?

The woman does seem to be inside the coffeehouse as she says, "Now then, who are those strangers bursting through the door?" (That is, in the "Love Story Told by a Woman Prompted by the Devil" p. 356)

I do wish I knew more about why Pamuk put in these chapters. Is he the narrator speaking through the eyes of common (as in 'usual') samples of Ottoman society but who seem to be a part of even many of the most highly accepted members of Ottoman society? And how much of this book IS Pamuk? (I seem to keep coming back to that.)

I know we're rushed for time but, oh, how I wish we had more time to discuss this chapter.

Now, Jonathan, in reading your post especially where you say, "Or that other half of our humanity that's kept out of sight behind walls and window shutters? The other half of everyman's being? It's been pretty obvious all along that this society tries to get along without women..." and...

"The storyteller's very last story, The Love Story Told by a Woman Prompted by the Devil, is truly a story from a man-made Hell. I can see that I was 'getting' the reasons for the story.

I will have to go back and read the chapter again though because I don't remember where the following happened--"He accepts the challenge, when the miniaturists present him with the picture of a woman." (Jonathan) I don't remember a miniaturist presenting anyone with the picture of a woman...and to whom did the miniaturist present the picture?

Oh well, I'll have to reread this chapter again later today. Time to read today's chapters.

One thing about this book: I really don't care who did the murders. The writing and the thoughts behind it are so exquisite I am more often than not totally immersed in the storytelling itself.

WHAT A WRITER!

Alliemae

Years ago while I was reading another book on Florence Nightengale's time in Turkey during the Crimean War I also happened upon a book about a noblewoman or a woman of wealth from the West who was in Istanbul with her husband.

Oh how I wish I still knew the title of that book.

Jonathan, I would be very interested in knowing more about the book you're referring to and I think it might be good background for the reading of ISTANBUL by Pamuk if that is the book selected for discussion (unless you meant it for another discussion selection in which case, it still sounds interesting).

Alliemae

PEDLIN, thanks for the introduction to the Prince. I simply had not realized the Ottoman Empire existed as late as 1924 and there were still Ottoman Princes about. "Ottoman Empire" has always, to me, conjured visions of centuries past.

Jonathan, I heartily agree about Shevket. I couldn't understand why Shekure didn't smack him and tell him to mind his manners! Little Orhan, now, I like. He wasted no time darting over and getting that door open.

I know it's a half-measure, but my moral convictions are usually at half strength anyways. I'm still laughing over that one, JONATHAN.

[HATS, anytime you want to make a change in your post after you've posted it, just click on the "Edit" button at the top of you post. It will return your message to you so you can edit it. Then just post the message again.]

In Ch. 55, "I Am Butterfly", I found myself pulled up short by this statement: "...sibling rivalry is always produced by an unjust father."

Of course, he's talking about serious sibling rivalry here, the kind that leads to violence or betrayal. But do you think it's true? There are, of course, many instances of brothers killing brothers when there is a throne and power at stake. Those seem more the result of the greed of the sons than the injustice of the father. I'm trying now to think of some classical examples, and examine them in the light of the father's role.

And the point here, of course, is the rivalry between the miniaturists, and the role of their Master in causing it all.

Babi

What a great idea!! And in each of their favorite colors! I'll have to give that some thought!

I'M even glad you (or any of you for that matter) didn't have to go through that dream, Hats...it was horrid!!

Alliemae

BaBi, like I said in a previous post, you always bring me right back to reality! Loved this remark. It was exactly what I thought when I read that part of the chapter!!

Alliemae

But Shevket was the first born boy, how could Shekure do that in front of her father in law? He would have taken the defence of the boy without even listening!

I had said, "What a WRITER!"

Now I say...WHAT A DISCUSSION!

Alliemae

Yes, I agree...Shevket being the first born boy...I didn't think of that while I was reading it but it does make sense, especially for their culture.

Alliemae

Good books don't give up all their secrets at once. -Stephen King, novelist (1947- )

Who is the murderer? It appears that the miniaturists and Black (we should remember that Black had found a new father, he tells us, when he met Master Osman) are going to settle it among themselves. With swords at each others throats.

How inured one becomes to violence. I remember the shock in the first chapter. Can I stomach this, I asked myself. Others must have felt the same way. But the author has mixed in so many other beautiful reds, to our confusion, that even blood seems an aesthetical experience. How very odd.

Just the same, the death of the storyteller has affected me much more than the murder of Elegant and Enishte. We do need preachers and painters, I'll grant. But can the world afford to lose its storytellers?

'Now then, who are those strangers bursting through the door?'

Alliemae, isn't that the storyteller himself, rudely interrupted after saying:

'Oh, how wonderful love is!'

Those were his very last words. Was the storyteller helpful in understanding the issues in the communal strife? I think so. Perhaps we should go back to the beginning of the book and take another run at it...

But first...I'm on my way out to run some errands. Life must go on.

Who is the murderer?

You mean you didn't catch the huge hint??

Who can forget the views that Enishte treated us to after his death. I'll never forget the sight of the ambassador being rowed up the Bosphorus in his many-oared caique. That's the way Jason and his Argonauts went, chasing the Golden Fleece!

Jonathan, you read my mind.

I was saddened so by the killing of the storyteller. The storyteller with a poem and a tale filled with such deep pathos, with just a gentle touch of irony.

I don't remember feeling this exact emotion in any other part of this book, nor about any other character, (except, but not as strongly, when we first saw Esther as a woman and not just the town 'yente').

A poem and a story so true...so resigned to their own reality...

Alliemae

In chapter fifty-six Stork says something very interesting. I don't think he is saying it to save his hide. I think he is totally sincere in his spoken thoughts.

"Perhaps, when we arrive at Olive's abandoned dervish house, we'll learn that the cruel murderer isn't even one of our lot."

For some reason, I believe Stork is right. I think Pamuk purposely glued our eyes on the illuminators. He sidetracked us. That's perfectly fine. Along the way we gained an eyeful of the Ottoman Empire and the art of the Franks, Venetians and old masters. So, if Stork's words are true, we haven't wasted time at all.

Besides, Alliemae shared a horrid dream with us. That was entertaining.

I have accepted the fact of knowing nothing, understanding less and being confused until the very end. I give up. I will just enjoy Pamuk's descriptions of people and what happens to those people. I am no longer thinking of who murdered Elegant, Enishte or the storyteller.

That is untrue. I really want to know the identity of the murderer. So, I will wait patiently until Pamuk unveils this cruel, sly character.

I find the storytellers death frightening for another reason as well. The awful fact that a religious group would murder a man for 'disrespect' to their leader. This is hardly Islamic humility! But this same violence continued to be seen with groups like the Taliban. It is one of the more horrible facts of life in our times.

I found it so moving when the miniaturists seemed to forget, for a short while, their differences, and reminisce about their apprentice days together. They spoke of the dreams they have of what they would most like to be able to paint. Butterfly would like to find some way of depicting how the blind and the seeing are not equal. Stork wants to depict Judgment Day, and asks why it is that they cannot depict their Sacred Word. But Olive feels confused and threatened(?) and blurts out that he would like to paint the prayers for mercy and absolution found at the end of the "Cow" sutra. I feel as though each of these subjects is telling us much about each man, but it would take a lot of thought to understand what.

I have to admit, the condition Olive's house made me think this is a mentally ill man. No one lives in such disorder..such garbage..unless his mind is disordered. And he was the one found in the Dervish house. Yet before this I cannot recall one thing in the entire book that points to Olive as the murderer. Well, Master Osman did identify him as the painter of the horse. But since this was said in the context of also suggesting Stork as the murderer, and his evident interest in the future of his workshop, this bit of fingerpointing was open to suspicion.

The quote from Stephen King is very apt here, BUBBLE.

Babi

I'll run the risk, like Alliemae, of terrible dreams tonight, but I just had to read this chapter one more time. Stork explains so much of what has mystified the reader all along. Naturally he's trying to convince Black and Butterfly of his innocence, and that it has to be Olive who did the murdering, but it was all of them who made the killing inevitable.

Black and Butterfly are turning his home inside out looking for the missing picture. Stork's rich imagination allows him to be both terrified, and terrifyingly brave (he may have to wreak bloody havoc on the intruders). As well, he is keenly aware of the artistic dimension of his perilous situation. He was, he tells us, the first to paint live battle scenes. He has stared death in the face, as he is now. His thoughts?

'An artist's skill depends on carefully attending to the beauty of the present moment, taking everything down to the minutest detail seriously while, at the same time, stepping back from the world, which takes itself too seriously, and as if looking into a mirror, allowing for the distance and eloquence of a jest.' p368

Now, is that staying calm, or being quixotic, under pressure?!

In a chapter full of extraordinary things, I found the account of Stork donning his suit of armor (for painting during battle), the most intriguing. This seems straight out of Homer. Stork makes almost as much ritual out of getting dressed as those glorious warriors in the Iliad. But we're in the Book of Kings world here, that Persian classic, which itself has echoes of Homer. Ginny led a good discussion of the Iliad here, a year or so ago.

On the route to the Phanar Gate...and the deserted dervish lodge, with 'the menacing shadow of a man performing his prayers...'

I would like to quote a paragraph from Pamuk's ISTANBUL, which you may find interesting:

'The wooden mansions of my childhood and the smaller, more modest wooden houses in the city's back streets were in a mesmerizing state of ruin. Poverty and neglect had ensured these houses were never painted, and the combination of age, dirt, and humidity slowly darkened the wood to give it that special color, that unique texture, so prevalent in the back neighborhoods that as a child I took the blackness to be original. Some houses had a brown undertone, and perhaps there were those in the poorest streets that had never known paint at all. But Western travelers in the eighteenth and mid-nineteenth centuries described the mansions of the rich as brightly painted, finding in them and the other faces of opulence a powerful and abundant beauty. As a child, I would sometimes imagine painting all these houses, but even then the loss of the city's black-and-white shroud was daunting.

'In summer, when these old wooden houses would dry out and turn a dark, chalky, tinderbox brown, you could imagine them catching fire at any moment; during the winter's long cold spells, the snow and the rain endowed these same houses with the mildewey hint of rotting wood. So it was too with the old wooden dervish lodges, forbidden by the Republic to be used as places of worship, now mostly abandoned and of interest only to street urchins, ghosts, and antique hunters. They would awaken in me the same degrees of fear, worry and curiosity; as I peered at them over half-broken walls, past the damp trees, and into the broken windows, a chill would pass through me. p37

Stork: 'I brought my eye up to one of the cracks between wooden planks of the dervish-lodge walls, and later, to the shutter of a small window, whereupon, by the light of an oil lamp, I saw the menacing shadow of a man performing his prayers - or perhaps, a man pretending for our sake, to pray.' MNIR, p374

Jonathan,

I remember that above passage. Who is that man? I want to remember him before the window. There is a message in that passage. I just can not figure it out. Like so many passages in this book, I turn the page and the passage keeps coming back in my head like an old song.

I have been reading these chapters and thinking about the life of the artists. The life of an apprentice is a very complicated one. The paintings are done painstakingly. Still, their emotional world which must meet with the physical world is fleeing pass at a faster pace. The artists are atune to the religious men, gossip, the changing face of the art world and pleasing a master like Osman. So much to do and so little time. That is a familiar phrase.

Now to add to their life difficulties there is a battle to save themselves from torture and/or death. Black is fighting for his new life with Shekure and the children and his promise to his Enishte to finish the Secret Book. Shekure is fighting to protect her boys. These people are not fighting on the ancient battlefields. These people are fighting on Turkey's grounds. It is like a civil war, a war of families.

The ancient miniatures are rich in beauty. The colors are magnificent. The appreciation of the miniatures painted during the Ottoman Empire have driven my eyes to look deeper into the painting and ask 'what is this painting trying to say to me?' Those miniatures begged me to look at the Turkey of today. Turkey is not a fairy tale in painting and gilded gold leaf. True. Turkey is a real world, not a lost continent. It is a world that is still thriving, rich in cultural beauty of the past and the present. Turkey did not die with the last Sultan. I must remember Turkey.

I have wondered and wondered what to take from this book. Time is growing so short. The end of the month is here. If I have learned one thing from this book, it is that Turkey has a past, present and future. Turkey, along with Africa, India, the Middle East are places in my heart. I must hear the laughter, see the tears, hear the screams of the people. Then, in my own small way try to help. First, I had to be reminded Turkey existed. Its existence had been forgotten by me.

This is why I would love to continue on with Pamuk's Istanbul. I have started this journey with him. For awhile, I would like to continue holding his hand with Jonathan not far behind.

Babi, I agree. Bubble's quote from Stephen King is very fitting. Thank you, Bubble.

Jonathan,

Your quote from Pamuk's Istanbul is so moving. How can we not read Pamuk's Istanbul? His words wrap around your heart and take you to another place.

I must read "My Name Is Red" again. Now I know what the journey was about. I missed so much while trying not to get lost. I must take a train and go back again.

Aha! I had just begun the chapter on Olive...not even one full page into it actually...and I had to stop and go back to the previous chapter. There was just too much said to not read it again!!

All I could think was, 'Intimation of intimations...all is hearsay and conjecture'! And then I remembered this from yesterday...

"That was the problem. Too many hints from Pamuk." (Jonathan)

By the way, even though I was last in Istanbul way back in 1989, the way that Pamuk describes the Ottoman houses in the excerpt you have given us, Jonathan, I remember them that same way and now I'm homesick for Istanbul again. I don't think too very much would have been lost or changed in 16 years...not with Celik Gulersoy, the Director of Culture and Tourism and Defender of 'Eski Istanbul' (Old Istanbul) and Ottoman Istanbul fighting off the 'modernists'... who was at his post in 1989 and at least some years after.

By the way, I found his Travel book on Istanbul and parts of Turkey to be one of the most entertaining and the most poetic. He has a very distinctive way of writing and was one of the first Turkish authors who's style I was able to recognize in either language--Turkish or English. (I have another of his books here somewhere about Turkish Homes which has Turkish on the one page and English on the facing page and before I realized he was the author I paused in my reading of it and said, wait...this style seems so familiar, and looked for the author's name and sure enough, it WAS Celik Gulersoy!!)

I want so much for us to read Pamuk's ISTANBUL that I'll wait and join when the book is presented. I think that after reading about Ottoman Istanbul in our current book selection it would be perfect timing to follow it up with Pamuk's (i.e. the same author) Istanbul.

As I said, count me IN!

Alliemae

Hats, you have just 'said' my mind!! (NOT unusual in the course of this discussion!)

"I missed so much while trying not to get lost."

That is exactly how I feel!

Alliemae

Alliemae,

I have definitely enjoyed your memories of Turkey. Your memories just add to the discussion.

That really means a lot to me!!

Alliemae

Those eternal beatings the young apprentices were always getting. They had such curious results, as we have seen, as the narrative developed, causing the culprit, in the end, to leave behind in his painting that damning fault of 'style'.

The beatings became too much for Olive as a very young student artist, and he refused to return to the workshop. Until his mother convinced him that it would not only make a better artist out of him, but would pay other dividends as well.

'She'd warned me not to tell this to anybody' Olive tells us, but 'the beatings would in time enable him to develop cunning, to fathom the unknown, to make friends, to identify enemies, to sense plots being hatched behind his back and, let me hasten to add, to paint better than anyone else.' p377

There's more from his mother about beatings that have the desired effect of 'killing the inner devils', as well as the more constructive result for artistic genius if one can successfully frighten and tame these devils, and to retain them in ones memory. This has to be thought about.

Olive certainly applies all that he ever learned from his mother, when it comes to his turn to defend himself and to explain all that the reader has had thrown at her in this prodigious piece of writing.

At this point in the book nothing surprises any longer. Not even the fact that Olive wears red underwear.

On the other hand, could his mother, with her wisdom, somehow be held responsible for her son's unusual fate?

let's be sure about it. It's rich fare.

I watched the life of Eugene O'Neill on PBS the other night, and have just finished reading Long Day's Journey Into Night. What a touching last scene, in which Mary thinks about her wonderful days in the convent, longing to stay there forever:

'I had a talk with Mother Elizabeth. She is so sweet and good....All the same, I don't think she was so understanding this time. I told her I wanted to be a nun. I explained how sure I was of my vocation, that I had prayed to the Blessed Virgin to make me sure, and to find me worthy. I told Mother I had had a true vision when I was praying in the shrine of Our Lady of Lourdes, on the little island in the lake. I said I knew, as surely as I knew I was kneeling there, that the Blessed Virgin had smiled and blessed me with her consent. But Mother Elizabeth told me I must be more sure than that, even that I must prove it wasn't simply my imagination. She said, if I was so sure, then I wouldn't mind putting myself to a test by going home after I graduated, and living as other girls lived, going out to parties and dances and enjoying myself; and then if after a year or two I still felt sure, I could come back to see her and we would talk it over again.'

Yes, I'm ready for more Istanbul. We have our passport in MNIR.

This chapter is so sad. There is the falling of a "melancholy rain." The rain leaving a sense of sadness makes me think each person in Olive's room would not mind shedding tears during this time too. I felt sad too. Butterfly, Olive and Stork's identities have been beaten down until all three men are like human clones because a person's style is his identity. A individual style makes dreams come true.

"Time doesn't flow if you don't dream."

Identity and style are both tied together with time and dreams. All four of these qualities are what make us human and happy. Butterfly, Olive and Stork have been emotionally raped by Master Osman, I think. Master Osman wanted a factory of workers, workers who never asked questions, never veered to the left or the right, just accomplished his bidding.

Really, Master Osman stole the childhood of each apprentice. What is hidden under the stove lid is Olive's treasure box, something you might expect a child or teen to hide under his bed or in a cigar box: a silk shirt, clean woolen socks, red underware, some stolen gold leaf, a sketchpad, an agate ring from his mother.

With all that the apprentices missed, there is a shared commonality.

"Each of them displayed the panic of being separated from the herd, which I'd seen from time to time in every master painter over the span of my life."

Great insight Hats. Yes, I too felt sadly moved by how the miniaturists have been forcefully molded byMaster Osman. We are reaching the end and I feel the need to "digest" the overall impression left by the flood of details received. Then I will be re-reading from start without wondering about the end. The second blinding reminded me of the scene of Michael Strogoff (by Jules Verne) being blinded.

Michael Strogoff

Hi Bubble,

Thank you for the link. I like the way you put it "flood of details." How true.

Ah, Bubble, I have not read this Jules Verne, or even heard of it. If ever there was a tale that cried out to be illustrated by Bilibin, this is it.

Bilibin illustration

Bilibin Courtesy of the Prof. Kimball at UOREGON

Kleo

Graphic changed to link -- (Please observe the rules for posting graphics)

KleoP you have the whole book on that link. You can read it there if you want. For me it was a classic that needed to be read and savored.

Kleo, wow! I love the illustration. It's beautiful.

Bubble, I did see all of the chapters. I hope to find "Michael Strogoff at my library. My library does own it.

Jonathan,

I am watching the life of Eugene O'Neill. It's wonderful! I wish we could read his plays here.

I like the Bilibin, KLEO, It has the bright colors we have learned to expect, yet the greater use of white gives it more openness. I feel as if I can 'see' better, and not feel as if I should strain my eyes over the myriad tiny details hidden in so many miniatures.

There was something so comical, and yet frightening, about Butterfly's continuous rapping of the dagger on Olive's armor. I don't know how Olive could bear it so calmly. It would drive me up the wall, which of course explains my unpleasant reaction to the scene.

Two chapters left, and so much there to discuss! I have a half-dozen places tagged that I want to talk about! I will be patient..until tomorrow.

Babi

It is interesting what we learn about each individual miniaturist, the past they have in common, and their current ambition: both Butterfly and Stork hope to become Master Osman's successor. Yet Master Osman would probably decide for Butterfly, his favorite for years.

Just to recap: in chapter 55 we learn more about Butterfly; in chapter 56 about Stork; in chapter 57 about Olive.

I have read chapter 57 several times and believe there is an error neither Pamuk's editor nor the translator spotted. Let me explain. Chapter 57 is in Olive's voice.

In the paragraph beginning with "I smiled at him". (pg. 376 in my book), the "I" is therefore Olive, and the "him" is Black. (see previous paragraph)
Later in the same paragraph we read : "A melancholy rain was falling. As if upset by the rain, Butterfly mournfully gripped his dagger. Olive, the backside of whose armor was white with flour, was courageously forging into the heart of the dervish loge, lamp in hand."> (!!) However,

1. Olive is already IN the dilapidated dervish house (he was praying when the others approached).
2. Stork is wearing the armor. He had put it on earlier in his own house (Butterfly asked him to) when Butterfly and Black came to search Stork's house.
3. Olive is the first-person narrator of this chapter! Why would he refer to himself as "Olive" instead of "I" ?

In the bolded sentence above I believe the name should be "Stork" NOT "Olive".

a terrible denouement to a complex theme

How could anyone who has come this far in the book not feel spellbound reading Chapter 58?

I am happy to see that Shekure gets the last word on Friday, but until then, why not meditate on the murderer's long, rambling tale of nostalgia and terror. And untruths? What a crescendo of vivid thought and feeling, of horrors, grotesqueries, and astounding, sometimes ludicrous argumentation. And passages of great beauty.

I think I will sleep better tonight if I put the frightful scenes out of mind. Instead, I'll join Olive on his last walk along the now familiar streets of Istanbul:

'After passing the Bayazid Mosque, I watched the Golden Horn from a promontory: The horizon was brightening, yet the water was still black. Ever so slowly bobbing in invisible waves, two fishermen's rowboats, freight ships with their sails furled and an abandoned galleon repeatedly insisted that I not leave...

'I left the road, ran through two muddy gardens and took shelter beneath an old stone house surrounded by greenery. This was the house where I came each Tuesday as an apprentice to get Master Osman and followed two paces behind him carrying his bag, portfolio, pen box and writing board on our way to the workshop. Nothing had changed here, except the plane trees in the yard and along the street had grown so large that an aura of grandeur, power and wealth hearkening back to the time of Sultan Suleyman had settled over the house and street.

'Since the road leading to the harbor was near, I succumbed to the Devil's temptation, and was overcome by the excitement of seeing the arches of the workshop building where I'd spent a quarter century. This was how I ended up tracing the path that I'd taken as an apprentice following Master Osman: down Archer's Street which smelled dizzingly of linden blossoms in the spring, passed the bakery where my master would buy round meat pasties, up the hill lined with beggars and quince and chestnut trees, past the closed shutters of the new market and the barber whom my master greeted each morning, alongside the empty field where acrobats would set up their tents in summer and perform in front of the foul-smelling rooming houses for bachelors, beneath mouldy-smelling Byzantine arches, before Ibraham Pasha's palace and the column made up of three coiling snakes, which I'd drawn hundreds of times, past the plane tree, which we depicted a different way each time, emerging into the Hippodrome and under the chestnut and mulberry trees wherein sparrows and magpies alighted and chirped madly in the mornings.' p403

And so to bed. To dream. Tomorrow I will think about all that Olive had to say.

Jonathan, you are too quick.

I am still thinking about chapter 57. Olive's red underwear is playing around in my brain. So is Kleo's illustration. Bilibin's illustration is telling a story, a very important story, I think.

Looking at it closer, I see a man standing looking out over Istanbul. This man is in total control of all that is around him. He is engrossed with his power. Even his clothing is fancy. He is rich with power. Twirling through the pattern of his coat is the color red. His hat is boldly red.

The top of the mosques are golden, yellow with sun. The sun rises in the East. The mosque roof in the front is blue. My eye is drawn there. I remembered Bubble talking about blue symbolizing "protection from the evil eye."

In this illustration there is a lady on the balcony. She is trying to get the man's attention. This woman is either a dear friend or a mother. He will not turn away to answer. He is hypnotized by the truth of his own dreams.

These thoughts made me jump out of bed and come to the computer. Even crazy ideas need to be written down. Anyway, is the person in the red hat and coat a man or a woman? If a woman, the lady calling out is a friend. If a man, then the woman is someone's mother.

Kleo's illustration made me jump out of bed. Jonathan's thoughts about red underware made me jump out of bed also. Now goodness knows what the three top posts, Jonathan's post, Traude's post and Babi's post will do to me. I might not go back to bed at all.

The illustration is still bugging me. The man looking out over Istanbul is bothering me. Is he a man worthy of his power? Is he a man who has abused his power? Is he a murderer?

From confused hats

Strange how that picture works differently for each of us. I thought it was a Russian town and how they have those bulbous domes on buildings, like in Turkey but still different. On the left I saw a high dignitary in his fur richly decorated clothes. Of course Michael Strogoff was on my mind still and I though if a Tsar envoy looking back on the town.

Traude, I am astounded. I did not spot it! I'll take that book in hand again later today: I am on my way to work at the library now. BBL

Bubble,

You are right. I did not think of Michael Strogoff. I should have remembered the synopsis of the Jules Verne book. So, it probably is Russia instead of Turkey.

That's just like the view I had in my dreams. I had myself rowed to the Oskudar side of the Bosphorous. Looking into the deep black waters was a bit scary, but on the way back all those minarets and domes were beautiful in the early morning light.

Your posts are wonderful to read, and make it obvious what the book is doing to us. It seems to me, reading this book and reacting to it forces one to get to know oneself. I can't imagine how Istanbul, or Turkish readers feel. I wonder do they recognize themselves in the book.

I hope you have many thoughts on these last chapters. Let us hear about them.

Talking about strange ideas coming into ones head. It seems grotesque, but I'm comparing the manner of the deaths. Olive is murdered in such a beautifully artistic way. The other murders were such botched affairs, weren't they? Could Elegant and Enishte be thinking, I wished I had died that way?

But, really, there are so many finer things to point out.

I have to go out for a few hours. See you all later.

So what first caught my attention in Ch. 58? The question, is this irony, as it appears to me, or is it a straightforward Eastern viewpoint?

"Where were the uninspired masters who never grew jealous, having accepted the wisdom and justice inherent in God's bestowal of talent and ability upon some artists and patience and pious resignation upon others?"

I loved the picture of life in the workshops that has unfolded in the last two chapters. It awakens a nostalgia even for those, like us, who were never there. I smiled at the ornery master who would grab passersby and use their fingernails to test his paint. The young boys playing 'swordsman' with the paper scissors. Bemused by the thought of making brushes from the neck and ear hairs of kittens! So much captivating detail.

And then this comment: "Anyway, a good Muslim knows the fear of damnation only serves to frighten others, not himself." I suspect that may be true of all religions. After all, a believer does not need to fear hell, right? So obviously, the warnings about hell must be for others.

Okay, that's enough for now. Be back this evening with the heavier stuff.

Babi

Different scenes I admit...different characters--surely, but the feelings of saying goodbye to Istanbul I have felt and witnessed...and by so many individuals, both friend and near stranger...are the same.

For so many of us, once having been in Istanbul is never to really leave.

I need time to 'recoup'...and mourn.

Be back later, Alliemae

This Bilibin is for Pushkin's poem "The Tale of Tsar Saltan, of his Son the Renowned and Mighty Bogatyr Prince Gvidon Saltanovich, and of the Beautiful Princess-Swan," based on a Russian fairy tale, but I felt it was irresistibly perfect for this discussion.

Bilibin, you may not know, was an illustrator of Russian Folk Tales, who was famous and infamous for mixing the old style with the new. Controversial in the early 20th century Russia, as it was in the late 16th century Ottoman Empire.

He designed sets and costumes for the opera, including this Pushkin poem when used as a libretto for an opera.

Bilibin lived abroad after the Russian Civil War, including Egypt (I didn't know that) and Paris, then returned to the Soviets. He died in the Siege of Leningrad.

The Tale of the Tsar Saltan by A. Pushkin, illustrated by I. Bilibin

Russia, like Turkey, is a country between the East and the West. Even today, many Westerners think of Russia as European, not realizing how Eastern the country is.

Kleo

'...and the portly artist who made us laugh as he caressed his beard with the furry rabbit's foot used to collect the excess flecks of gold dust used in gilding? Where were they all?' p385

Can you imagine him shaking all that gold dust out of his beard when he got home?

There's so much that twigs the imagination in Chapter 58. But also much that explains the murders. The way Olive tells it he seems justified in feeling that he did the right thing by his brothers.

As Babi suggests, there is a lot of heavy stuff in this chapter. It occurred to me that, in a way, the book is a commentary on the old problem, why does brother kill brother? The Cain against Abel story. Olive almost makes it seem like it was all a great misunderstanding. And his reasoning is brilliant. On the other hand it seems a dramatic picture of twilight and rebirth in the cultural and religious life of a people. Finding a place for ones society in a modern world while preserving its past.

I don't know the answer to your question about irony or Eastern tradition, BaBi, but when I saw this in the book I was reminded of something I had been heard about the development of the lesser developed predominantly Moslem countries, especially as is believed by the poor and the women.

I think it was in the news about somewhere in Africa, Afghanistan or Iran and the women were saying something like, we don't question our lives or question trying to change our lives because we believe that whatever our status, it is the will of Allah and we should be satisfied with whatever we have. I think it was an explanation given by women in support groups for that area on why it is so difficult to encourage the women to having a better life and work for their civil rights...and they mentioned it was also the outlook of the poor.

Alliemae

There are religions which engender fatalism in one's fate. If it is God's will, it must be endured and accepted, with maybe the hope of a reward in the other world. I don't think this is true only in the East or in Islam. Can't it be seen also in streams of Christianity or in Judaism?

Kleo, thank you so much for the link with this poem and its beautiful illustrations.

I haven't read much poetry except by American and English poets and this one is truly magical.

The enlarged picture did look Russian (or Eastern Orthodox) to me and when I looked at it again I felt I could get almost as lost in the middle of that drawing as in Istanbul.

How wonderful to be in a discussion with so many minds and sensitivities and viewpoints...all of these sets of eyes...and all of these hearts...we are truly fortunate...

Alliemae

Yes indeed...how true. How very true...

Alliemae

The key there, BUBBLE, is. of course, IF it is God's will. And who can say that with certainty. Since the Christian doctrines inherently claim that people can change, and they are encouraged to change for the better, it's hard to see how we can say anyone's current situation in life is God's will for them/us. But at least the comments from you and ALLIEMAE suggest that Olive was not being ironic, but meant just what he said.

Then, Black tells the story of the sad "Turkmen chieftain" who was sent off on a 12-year exile because of his premature love love a Pasha's daughter. Obviously, it is his own story he is telling. It makes me wonder how many of the 'stories' told by the miniaturists are actually their own stories. I think Olive must know this, for he responds: "God willing, one day, we'll fearlessly tell the story of our own lives the way we actually live them." Maybe Orhan is doing this for them in MNIR.

Olive's death is so startling, so sudden, it is hard to grasp. It is also hard to believe Hassan would act so precipitately and violently toward a man he believed to have been simply a member of Black's group getting Shekure back. Somehow, this seems a rather brisk way of wrapping everything up conveniently. Pamuk even gets Hassan out of the way by this development, since Hassan must flee the city as a murderer himself.

So much, so much. .....Babi

Yes, there is so much we will not be able to get to, many aspects we won't be able to explore further: for example the complex issue of blinding in general and Master Osman's self-blinding in particular; blinding vs. blackness; heresy and more. It is sad to have to hurry for the sake of time.

In chapter 58 the reader witnesses the blinding of Olive -- Black has the needle in hand and there is a struggle. It is not unequivocally clear who of the three miniaturists blinded Olive's right eye, or who did the left eye. Two miniaturists seem to have been involved. But Pamuk reveals only so much.

Only now, in chapter 58, does the reader learn crucial details about Elegant Effendi and what led to his murder by Olive; about the Kalenderi dervish sect and its customs; about the last picture; about the unresolvable conflict between Muslim painting and the perspectival method of the Franks.

Olive does not admit to anything until after he has been blinded, and even then cannot bring himself to utter the word "murder". Instead he tries to justify his actions by circumlocution and sheer sophistry. I find him not entirely convincing. He is eloquent, and so, of course, is Pamuk who created the words of all his dramatis personae . He may have been driven when writing the last chapters because the error in chapter 57 is odd and unexplainable.

One last chapter remains ...

Traude, that was observant of you to spot that error in chapter 57, which has Olive wearing the armour. Perhaps it was deliberate, in the sense that he WISHED he were wearing the suit of armor. He is under severe stress.

You're right too, I believe, in what you say about his trying to justify his actions with circumlocution and sophistry. He even admits to it. In explaining himself to his 'brothers', he says:

'I was neither too honest nor too insincere with them.'

About his self-portrait, he has this to say:

'But for some unaccountable and diabolic reason, it made me appear more profound, complicated and mysterious than I actually was.' p398

These words come just when the reader is beginning to despair of ever understanding the mind of this murderer.

Accepting the will of Allah. I read all your comments with interest, about accepting ones lot in life for religious reasons. But how about this?

'I prayed to Almighty God, begging him to give me a sign showing me how despicable this scoundrel really was....and 'my prayers were answered.' Indeed, 'God provided me with an empty lot ravaged by fire and nearby, a dry well.' p395

How diabolical! That is how one twists Allah's Will to suit ones own will. Is he being honest with himself? He is obviously extemely clever. But a feeling and religious man as well. In fact he seems to be undergoing a dark night of the soul. But he never did succeed in killing the devils within. He seems to balancing the claims of Allah, the wiles of the Devil, the respect due to the Old Masters, and his own urge to self-expression...I'm almost ready to give up, trying to understand him. What a wonderful chapter.

I can't believe how seriously I took this book when I first started reading it. Now I'm at the stage where I can only shake my head in wonder. Can such things be? Such cunning, such wile, to be able to make murder a pious deed! As Olive does.

It's fated, Pamuk has seen to that, that the reader will never be finished with this book. Let's go to the last chapter.

Not to mourn, Alliemae. We'll return to Istanbul, and Orhan Pamuk.

JONATHAN, how very apt. Yes, Olive, a soul in torment. No doubt a true master, an artist through and through, but also egomaniacal. He fiercely resists at first all questions pertaining to the last picture and says:

"I felt suffocating regret and anger for two reasons: First, I'd said everything I had for naught, unaware that they'd come to an agreement beforehand; secondly, I hadn't fled, unable to imagine that their envy (!) would reach this level. (pg. 388)

Twice more on that page he speaks of the others' jealousy and extreme envy. It did not occur to him that he would have to pay retribution for the murders somehow. Yet he does, at the hand of Hasan of all people, who then flees -- what a clever way to get that unlamented villain out of the way !

Pamuk may be melancholy himself but I believe he is also a passionate man, a thinker with "fire in the belly", as we call it. Some of that came through very clearly in his impassioned speech at the Frankfurt Book Fair last fall, which I read on the internet.

Golly, all of these posts are worth a mint. I have read each one from the past evening more than once.

To me, the Bilibin illustration truly portrayed Olive. Everything in that illustration spoke to me of Istanbul and a man with an "egomaniacal" attitude. Here are the words from Olive's mouth.

"I know that even if I were truly the center of the world--and each time I looked at the picture this is precisely what I wanted--despite the splendor of the red that ruled the painting, despite being surrounded by all of these things I loved, including my dervish companions and the woman who resembled beautiful Shekure, I'd still be lonely. I'm not afraid of possessing character and individuality, nor do I fear others bowing down and worshiping me: on the contrary, this is what I desire."

Kleo, posting the illustration at that moment in time, at the mention of Michael Strogoff and the chapters for these last few days felt so perfect. For me, it all came together.

Will this discussion stay where it is over the weekend even though tomorrow is April 1?

I've never learned how to locate the archived book discussions and want to review some of these posts.

Thanks, Allie

Esther wants us to believe that it all ended happily!

Was marriage ever consummated with such lack of passion. It was, so that the author could metaphorize lovemaking with 'spreading salve onto wounds'. Well, lovers do have their secret ways of communicating. Thankfully, Shekure soon draws the curtain, and tells us only that,

'Like a solemn ship that gains speed as its sails swell with wind, our gradually quickening lovemaking took us boldly into unfamiliar seas.'

We'll take her word for it. It seems to be fifty years later now. She is an elderly lady she tells us. From her age of 24 in the book to old age must be at least that long. Black has been dead for 25 years, having died that many years after coming back to Istanbul.

If our journey has ended, so has 'the red rose of the joy of painting and illuminating that had bloomed for a century in Istanbul, nurtured by the inspiration from the lands of Persia.' p411

Pamuk writes in his book ISTANBUL, five years after MNIR,

'Nor is there a single piece of writing or work in today's world that can teach us how to take pleasure in Ottoman art or the classic Persian art that influenced it.' p44

Surely he is being excessively modest. I can't help feeling that MNIR is a brilliant introduction to Ottoman art. One would have to look far to find so much condensed wisdom on all art. The well is deep. As we all know we've hardly dipped into the treasures of his book.

Just as Red pervades its pages, so do those infernal jinns. Poor Black.

'I believed that somewhere in a secret corner of his soul he was possessed by a jinn of sorrow...'

How little she knew Black. But then she was never privy to his secret thoughts, the way the reader has been.

Jonathan and Pedln,

Thank you. I have enjoyed every word of the book. As usual the posts have been very, very helpful. I won't forget the beautiful miniatures in the links and I will always remember Istanbul. I am very happy to have been introduced to Orhan Pamuk. It has been an exciting month. Now there is one more country to mark off on my passport, Turkey.

Allliemae, I'm sending you an email that may help you located the archives. Once you've done it, you won't have any problem.

Thank you all for your enlightening posts on this difficult book.

The reading was made many times more satisfying because of the different views shared here. Each of us sees mainly the most familiar facets of the story and this view is enriched by the details pointed out by others.

Thank you Jonathan and Pdln for leading us onward. Bubble

One of the first things I learned in my courses on Death and Dying in nursing school was this:

In times of death or impending death it is normal to affirm life. Each person and couple does this in their own way.

I think that Shekure's tender care and beyond of Black was about this.

I also think that their little 'secret code' was sweet and something any couple who have shared tenderness and the ups and downs of life of any kind might share.

I have enjoyed this book and this discussion, and I've learned so much about life, both in our times (everything, after all, is a microcosm) and in Ottoman times, which has made being a member of this discussion group even more valuable.

Till another book discussion when some of us may meet again, stay well all...and good reading.

Alliemae

Thanks so much for the email re the book discussion archives!

Alliemae

It is always difficult for me to stop the flow of thoughts, impressions and reaction on the exact day a discussion ends. In my own experience as a DL, a grace period of a day or two is not uncommon and, besides, this day isn't over yet. So here I go.

The story has been told. The murderer has been identified and met his fate. Hasan is no longer a menace. Also, there was after all no major revelation regarding the possibly hidden meaning of the color red, hence no epiphany. (Not that I expected one.)

Chapter 59 is for me at once nostalgic and disappointing. True, the loose ends are tied;
Black comes home to Shekure who nurses his wounds as carefully as she would do cleaning a valuable antique carpet (!!!) Hmmm. (pg. 407)

The conflict between the methods of the old masters of Herat and the Frankish masters was never resolved; painting itself was abandoned; artists painted neither like Easternes nor Westernes.
The Enishte's book remained unfinished; the pages Hasan had dropped on the ground were transferred to the Treasury. (pg. 411)
Stork became Head Illuminator two years after Master Osman went blind and
Butterfly devoted the rest of his life to drawing ornamental designs for carpets, cloths and tents.

But what about Black and Shekure ? Was theirs a love story as some reviewers claimed ?

I think Black worshipped Shekure; she had (only) affection for him, not really abiding love. Her love and devotion of her sons predominated and were infinitely more important to her. She continued to share their (the sons') bed (one wonders for how many years).
As for consummating the marriage - well, it certainly was not really consummated, not in the conventional sense- from what we read. Was that then a real union? I think not.

Was tenderness and affection all Shekure wanted and was capable of giving? To her husband, I mean ? Or was she after security only all along? Not that one could blame her. That sort of thing still goes on in our day and age.

What did the Shekure of our story DO after her sons got to marriageable age, did she release them willingly into the arms of a wife ? There can be no doubt about little Orhan's extraordinary devotion to his mother. Pamuk tells the reader that certain things in the story are autobiographical. So dare one ask about the author's relationship with his own mother ? (Of course not. One must not be indiscreet.)

The glories of the past are wonderfully presented, but I find some things alien, incomprehensible, even appalling. It was most disappointing (though not really surprising) for me to read (pg. 410) that on occasion Black spent his days and nights with miniaturists chasing after pretty boys, apparently common practice, perhaps an affliction, one might say.

Traude, I am sure Sekure would be a mother in law all too jealous of the wife her son took. On the other hand, I have no doubt that her sons would continue to be loving and very close to their mother even if their wife resented it.

The respect and love to parents is very important in eastern culture and no bride would dare complain about it. A husband too would "understand" his wife devotion to her sons. These sons will be the heads of families for the next generation and they are to provide the help and attention aging parents would need.

If Pamuk still has his mother, I would not be at all surprised if, being unable to visit, he calls her on the phone daily to make sure that she is OK. My Turkish cousins do that as well for their parents living in Turkey. One cousin is in another town in Turkey but the other lives in Switzerland and also calls almost daily for at least 15 to 20 minutes if not more. They tell me it is normal behavior for their peers as well.

As for Black's behavior... why be disappointed? He has "grown" with all his trials and probably lost some illusions. The story is just very realistic.

I'm not sure I understood the problem re.the armor and Olive's blinding, in Traude's and Jonathan's post. Is it the helmet? A ceremonial helmet would not cover the eyes, so that would not have been an 'error'.

I managed to locate a Turkish ceremonial helmet. If you would like to see it, click HELMET

TRAUDE, I also found incredible Olive's blind conviction that the miniaturists had turned against him solely out of envy! He seemed incapable of grasping the idea that murdering two people, including the well-loved Enishte, might be considered a horrendous thing.

I was dismayed to learn Shekure continued to sleep with her children I thought Muslim boys were removed from their mother's care at around 7 or so. Am I wrong about that?

Still, there were other things in this final chapter that stay with me.

..."suddenly it seemed to me that the entire world was like a palace with countless rooms whose doors opened into one another. We were able to pass from one room to the next only by exercising our memories and imaginations, but most of us, in our laziness, rarely exercised these capacities, and forever remained in the same room."

"Was it that God himself was an illuminator?

And finally: "For the sake of a delightful and convincing story, there isn't a lie Orhan wouldn't deign to tell.

Thank you, Jonathan, for persuading us to read and discuss this book. Otherwise, I would have missed one of the most intriguing books I've ever read,..and I wouldn't have been able to keep my head above water without you and all these wonderful, insightful posters.

Babi

Babi, I have never heard of "Muslim boys [being] removed from their mother's care at around 7 or so." Do you mean in ancient times? In the 16th century? In all Muslim countries? (Certainly not in Afghanistan, India, Iran, Egypt, Palestine that I know of.) Please elaborate.

I'm enjoying the book, still reading as work is very busy right now. For me, this particular book did not lend itself well to this sort of discussion. I did not enjoy the sense of rushing through the book, although I generally read more than 2 chapters a day, when I do pick it up, or the quest for who murdered whom.

I will read more Pamuk, including his Istanbul, but I think I'm getting a more rounded picture of Ottoman culture, and a greater appreciation for Pamuk by reading outside of this one author. Pamuk's cultural insights are immense, but he leaves out of some of the most revealing aspects of the culture. When I read my book on the economics of Ottoman history, then reread Pamuk, I understand much more of the Pamuk, the same with reading other cultural works about the times. So, I'll read nonfiction about Turkey and the Ottoman Empire, and then read more Pamuk to learn more.

All said, I appreciate being introduced to this author via SeniorNet and RAW--this was the purpose for me, not just reading an interesting book, but finding a great author. If we never read another great author in RAW, Pamuk will have been enough. What a find.

Kleo

Any number of interesting issues are being raised in these latest posts. And that is as it should be. It's that kind of book. We've all been left with plenty to puzzle over.

That is a magnificent helmet, Babi. Used only on ceremonial occasions. Otherwise, what a trophy to win on the battlefield!

To be honest, I started out wanting to propose Pamuk's more recent book, ISTANBUL, for discussion, when I learned that My Name Is Red was his finest book. Several others agreed about its merits. I had no idea what I was getting myself, and all of you, into, with this book. What a lot of art, history, religion, and mystery come together in its pages.

The 'memories and imaginations' quote in Babi's post, I would guess, reflect the author's own amazement over the mysterious sources of his storytelling inspirations. Memory lay all about him in Istanbul and the Treasury. How unkind of his mother to suggest that his imaginings may be laced with lies.

Thank you all, for making this discussion so enjoyable.

Thank you, Pedln, for offering me the challenge of DLing.

Thank you, Pat, for all the help behind the scenes.

Where shall we go next?

I know where I'm going. My bags are packed. I'm off the Outer Banks, early tomorrow.

I've just read your post, Kleo, and I can appreciate everything you say. The subject is vast. The time limited. See you at the next stop we make in RATW.

Jonathan

And the winner is....!!!!....!!!!...!!!

"The subject is vast. The time limited." Jonathan

Kleo

BaBi,

Thank you for the Turkish helmet link. Also, that same quote stood out to me. Thank you for writing it here.

Jonathan,

Have a wonderful and safe trip.

For Truade, Bubble, Kleo, Alliemae and others,

Thank you for sharing your knowledge about international culture and custom.

Mrs. Sherlock,

Thank you for your beautiful miniature links which started us off during the prediscussion.

Jonathan and Pedln,

Thank you again for a wonderful month. Without good leadership it could not have happened. I loved it.

With JONATHAN's and PEDLN's indulgence I'd like to reply to BaBi's question about the armor. We can't go out into this good night without resolving it.

It was Stork who put on his armor. The reader learns this from Stork himself in chapter 56. There he recounts how Black and Butterfly arrived at his house in the middle of the night to search it. (He told them that he, Stork, had drawn the dog.) Two paragraphs are crucial on pp. 369 and 370. Let me quote them in part (note that the emphases are mine)

How much attention were chubby Butterfly and grave Black (he was like a ghost) paying to what I said as they ransacked my possessions, gleefully lifting every lid and leaving not a stone unturned? When they came across my boots, armor and warrior's equipage in the embellished walnut trunk, a look of envy blossomed on Butterfly's childish face, and I once again declared what everybody already knew quite well. I was the first Muslim illustrator to set out on compagain with the army and the first to carefully study and depict what I'd witnessed in various victory Chronicles - the firing of cannon, the towers of enemy castles, the colors of infidel soldiers' uniforms, the sprawl of corpses, the piles of severed heads along river banks and the order and charge of armored cavalry!
When Butterfly asked me to show him how I donned my armor, I forthwith and without embarrassment took off my overshirt, my black rabbit-fur-lined undershirt, my trousers and my underwear. Pleased with the way they watched me by the light of the stove, I pulled on my clean underwear, the thick shirt of red broadcloth worn under armor in cold weather, woolen socks, the boots of yellow leather, and over them my gaiters. Removing it from its case, I was delighted to put on my breastplate, then I turned back toward Butterfly as if ordering a pageboy, had him do up the laces of the armor tightly and ordered him to attach my shoulder plates. As I was putting on my vambraces, gloves, the camel hair sword belt and finally the gold-worked helmet that I wore for ceremonies, I proudly declared that henceforth battle cenes would never again b depited as they'd been in days of old.

Chapter 57 , is titled "I am called 'Olive'",and the "I" is thus Olive himself.
Olive tells us he was at prayer when the three other miniaturists came to the house: "I opened the door, and there they were - Butterfly, Stork and Black. I gave a cry of joy and embraced Butterfly."

Therefore, Olive is INside already, and there is an obvious error - (unacknowledged or unnoticed by both the editor andthetranslator) - in the paragraph that begins with "I smiled at him". (pg. 376) and we read, further on,

"... As if upset by the rain, Butterfly mournfully gripped his dagger. Olive (!!!), the backside of whose armor (!!!!) was white with flour was courageously forging into the heart of the dervish lodge, lamp in hand.

There are two errors. The man who had on the armor and forged into the house was STORK; Olive was already inside it.

It is implausible that Olive, the narrator, the voice of this chapter, would suddenly refer to himself by his name rather than continue the narrative in the first person.
-------------------
BUBBLE, the lasting and mutual affection and devotion of family members is not only admirable but highly commendable-- desirable everywhere. Agreed, Pamuk writes about the mores/customs in 16th century Turkey. But I find myself wondering whether Turkish mothers of this day and age still share the bed of their sons (instead of their husband's), and if that is considered "normal" (or even healthy).

Shevket was certainly mature beyond his years: Shekure tells us in chapter 26 " ... it's been so long since Hayriye has taken these boys to the public bath. They haven't gone since Shevket's thing began to rise in front of the women there." The 'thing' is referred to elsewhere as "manhood" and cruder terms.

I hope I have been able to explain the matter as to who wore the armor.

Many thanks to JONATHAN and PEDLN for steering us through the deep waters of this astonishing book and its infinite details. For now I feel as one does after a very rich meal, satiated and a little benumbed.

Traude, about the Turkish hamam (public baths)- I never thought of that! I had to ask my husband and he remembers vividly going to the hamam with his aunt or with his mom when he was between 5 to 6 probably. He thinks that after 7y old one did not go with women anymore but he does not remember. They took to bathing at home, from the heated well water. So I suppose that Shekvet description would be accurate even to these days.

About sleeping in the same bed, again my husband is my more reliable source of info. They were 9 kids in the family in a 3 bedrooms house with the grand mother and her daughter (the aunt) living there too. Ben tells me that he and one sisters, being the youngest of the family, slept in the matrimonial bed with their parents as late as age 6 or 7 and, that could even be late as 8 or 9, he does not remember because it was normal in all the families around them. The Grand ma and aunt were in another room in the same bed, and 2 daughters in the second bed. The 3rd room was for the rest of the boys, 4 of them, since one died in infancy. That was not in the 16th century.

What we consider "crude" talk or mention of sexual behavior, organs, etc is just as normal as talking of ingredients and cooking. lol It is just natural talk, good humored and nothing special except if one has been educated in a more puritanic culture. Pamuk is a man of his country and generation. Bubble

For introducing me to an author I'd never read...for this wonderful, complex, and, for me, thoroughly engaging book...and most of all for setting me off on a journey of my own...to read all of Pamuk chronologically and to attempt, over the summer, to read at least one of the books in Turkish. I think that will be MNIR. And it all looks like 'beach reading' to me which will even double the pleasure!!

Bubble I have found your post on the young Turkish boys and family ways (#719) a wonderful and most helpful clarification and I want to thank you for that.

For those of you interested in the mind and heart of fairly recent Eastern Turkey who haven't had the experience already, I'd like to recommend a video called YOL ("trek of life") by political prisoner Yilmaz Guney.

Both the film and the writer had been banned in Turkey because of the reality of it. I'm not sure if the writer still is but for years was forced to be in exile in France to save his life. It's in Turkish with English subtitles but with more action than dialogue. This film won the Palme d'Or as Best Picture at the Cannes Film Festival; I don't know which year. I have it in video. I'm not sure it if it is in DVD or not.

Alliemae

MY NAME IS RED A Turkish Tale by Orhan Pamuk
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