My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk (notes on my favourite books)


orhan-pamuk_18 by doodle_juice
orhan-pamuk_18, a photo by doodle_juice on Flickr.

My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk

Written by Orhan Pamuk in 1998 and translated by Erdağ M. Göknar in 2001 The Novel is based in 16th century Istanbul and depicts the lives of miniaturist and illuminators. Turkey then was becoming the bridge between Europe and Asia. Set as a murder mystery Pamuk explores the culture of the time as well as highlight the conflicts between Art and religion. Western Art that was seen as encouraging idolatry stood against non-realistic eastern Art. The Artists exposed to Frankish style of painting debated their traditional standing on the function of Art. Questions of Western individuality as compared to community-based work are raised. Art in eastern world was collaborative and many Artists creating masterpieces left them unsigned.

There is a hidden free indirect narrative that only exists if you consider the book in its entirety. The indirect narrative is about eastern culture itself (this almost becomes a character) and why it stayed behind whereas West (shown in book as Frankish influence) progressed after that point.

With numerous narrators Pamuk forms a cultural mosaic and uncovers a crisis in the eastern world that exists even today.

Multiple narrators in first person provide a testimony. Since they only know a small part this device of narration also serves the element of murder-mystery.

Here is an example of the debate within the book:

“This, however, is precisely what the new European masters are doing, and they’re not satisfied with merely depicting and displaying … The artists also dare to situate their subjects in the centre of the page, as if man were meant to be worshiped

(Pamuk, 2001,p. 465)

My Name is Red is seen as a historical mystery Novel but with speaking corpse, talking dog and tree (often as illustrations of such things) it also has a magical element however  laws of probability are strictly obeyed so this is not a magical realism Novel.

This is perhaps more than a Novel, it is an essay on Art, and it is a philosophical debate. It is a crucial moment when a picture no longer was an aid for meaning of text, and as Enishte discovers (in his trip to Venice) it stands on it’s own and has it’s own meaning:

“As I slowly sensed that the underlying tale was the picture itself”.

(Pamuk, 2001,p. 41)

Choice for Art is perhaps allegorical for choice for life. Otherwise why would a tree be a narrator? Even a tree contributes to the Art debates. The tree does not wish to be merely an ornament or depict reality, it wants to be associated with another entity and have meaning. The tree takes the established stand:

“I don’t want to be a real tree, I want to be its meaning.”

(Pamuk, 2001,p. 80)

Pamuk (with multiple narration) allows many views of the inadequate narrators and in their own voice. Short chapters in first person provide many streams of consciousness.

Another reason for so many is perhaps because he seem to be interested in creating a Novel which like a painting has many colours and just like one of the illustrations is a beautiful image that needs to be re-examined many times. Perhaps just as illustrations each chapter which resembles an illustration is a prose equivalent of an illumination. In the Radio four Book club interview Pamuk mentions that he wanted to write a Novel that would be about the love of painting (he used to be a painter before being a writer). He mentions that he wanted to show that in life there is always something hidden on the shaded side of our vision. He did a lot of research from that period for this book. Reading it (and having read some of the original poems and books mentioned in the Novel most of which are Persian literature) I could recognize his pastiche of such literature. For instance the romance of Black and Shekure echoes the actual story of Hüsrev and Shirin (Nizami, 1170). Hüsrev goes on long arduous journeys before returning to Shirin who initially because of his marriage of convenience rejects him. Farhad loves Shirin unconditionally from a distance. He seems to mix these two in Black for this book.

In this extract Black has depicted himself and his love as the famous characters Hüsrev and Shirin:

“on horseback closely resembled that moment,

pictured a thousand times in which Hüsrev visits Shirin”.

(Pamuk, 2001,p. 54)

Pamuk gives his female characters a lot of wit and makes them resourceful. He reflects on a culture, which takes away economical-social choices, and yet shows how such women have to be even stronger or smarter than men in order to secure themselves or their children.

Esther for instance (despite her illiteracy) has developed a Niche for being a love messenger and could read a letter from the smell! She understands people’s social standing and their power:

“My poor Shekure, you’re neither a nobleman nor a pasha with a fancy seal”.

(Pamuk, 2001,p. 57)

Pamuk uses Esther’s narration to provide gossip like insight. Esther is very observant. She is particularly aware of other women around her.

“ ‘Shekure, the daughter of Master Enichte, is burning with love”, I said.’ “

(Pamuk, 2001,p. 206)

Shekure who is beautiful and is adored by men has enough wit to assess suitability of men rather than fall for them based on impulse. Here she reveals this:

“it pleases me that I’m being watched.

And if I happen to tell a lie or two from time to time,

it’s so you don’t come to any false conclusions about me.”

(Pamuk, 2001,p. 67)

Stylistically the book is rather poetic. As a writer I’ll experiment with first person narration and stream of consciousness in his style.

A good mother (short story)


monir by doodle_juice
monir, a photo by doodle_juice on Flickr.

Monir looked outside the window, she was still waiting for the rain to stop so that she could go and shop for groceries. For now, she returned to the breakfast table with her favourite mug, sipped more tea, and continued her conversation with her friend Jasmine:
“I was twenty, and we were madly in love. We both studied at the Tehran University and had two years to go. It was all planned; we were going to be married after the graduation. He was training to be a Dr, and I was finishing my degree in English translation, but then shortly after the revolution they shutdown the Universities. We joined the protests and when the guards tried to pull me inside the van, he fought back and managed to get me free. I ran away but looked back and they took him into the van. Six years – Six years was his sentence. I was devastated and waited for him for two years until I was told by dad that he had word Bahram had been executed. Six thousand were killed then. Six thousand in less than a week. They even killed those who had served their time and were set free. Being seen with Bahram, I was a marked woman, so my father arranged with traffickers to get me out of the country. I escaped to Turkey and eventually ended up in a small village in Germany. I was put in a refugee camp, but became really depressed there. Then I met Armin. He took care of me, and made me laugh, we became friends, but he needed something more. We collected golf balls from fly infested ponds and in hard times would buy a bottle of vodka and drink it. Dad finally managed to send me some money, enough to escape to Sweden. I let go of my feelings for Bahram, or so I thought and started a new life. Armin and I soon married and had Sarah and Daniel. He started working in IT and I went back to University and went into teaching. He is a good man, an excellent father. Then a month ago I was shopping in downtown Gothenburg and saw a man who looked like Bahram. It turned out it was Bahram. Dad had lied; he didn’t want me to waste my life and knew I was in danger so he lied to me. I didn’t know what to do. I was confused. I followed Bahram but didn’t want him to see me, the way I was. His hair had turned grey and he looked older, then I lost him in the crowd. I walked fast and stood by the post office, and there he was standing right behind me. I turned around and we looked at each other the way we used to, I felt like I was that twenty year old again but we both didn’t know what to say. Then he kissed me on my nose like he used to, looked me in the eyes, and left.”
“Well, tell me more, did you see him again? Do you still love him? What are you going to do?” asked Jasmine.
“Love? Love is a luxury, I can’t afford! What am I going to do? I’m going to stay the good mother and wife, and say goodbye to the love of my life. That is what I’m going to do. It isn’t anybody’s fault. It is just one of those things” Monir replied.

The kids arrived from school, Armin was away on a business trip so Jasmine was going to be baby sitting whilst Monir was going to go shopping for groceries.
Monir rushed to the bathroom and came out with a look that was particularly done up for groceries, and Jasmine sniggered. Monir wasn’t fooling anyone, it was obvious she was going to meet Bahram, she was just saying all those things about being a good mother and Armin being a good father just to convince herself or Jasmine about her character but her heart was somewhere else or so Jasmine thought.

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