Ahmet Tanpinar - A Mind at Peace

But she didn’t waste time with this vision of contentment. These were all passing fancies. She mustn’t lose sight of essentials. Right now, that was Fâhir. She was quite curious about the effects of the morning encounter on him. She’d only been able to see Nuran for a minute at most, and she was jealous from her vantage in life as a paramour. Nuran exuded more beauty than her in a different, deeper way. Despite this, she wasn’t curious about her; their presences were foreign to each other. What frightened Emma was the daughter herself.

“You are aware, Fâhir, you behaved atrociously with Fatma!”

Fâhir assumed a voice that she didn’t recognize at all: “I know…” This is the third time! Always, “You are aware. ”

He was oddly upset. Never before had he found Nuran to be as beautiful. She was neither the Nuran that he’d seen during the months of fatigue during which they’d arranged for their divorce, nor was she the fiancée who appeared like a white dream behind the mists of years. She was a different woman altogether, one he didn’t know, a complete stranger, a woman he didn’t recognize despite having lived with her for a decade. I was so surprised that… I wasn’t able to speak properly with Fatma… I acted as if she were someone else’s child. But was this the real reason he’d behaved so coldly toward his daughter, or was it because of Emma and his fear of aggravating her? I’m so weak that I’m susceptible to any base folly. .

He raised his head and was met by Emma’s eyes, which seemingly read from memory everything he’d been thinking. She said: “I understand, Fâhir, if you want to make up with them. I’d never want to come between you and your daughter.” And in order to emphasize the resoluteness of this decision, Emma, as if announcing a general strike in the midst of the day shift, rested her fork at the edge of her plate. Her entire face bespoke forfeit and reverence for human emotion. With a habit that came from a lifetime of only pitying herself, her expression changed and contorted.

Emma never asked. She just took. Her experiences as a fallen woman had absolutely forbidden her from asking for anything outright. Take it, grab it, lay siege, don’t let it catch its breath! But above all don’t ask! This was her motto. Begin with friendship! Always be understanding and patient! A man should sense that you understand him. Then spread your wings, don’t give him a chance to catch his breath. . but ask? Never. The rich Swede was gradually sensing in his flesh Emma’s understanding, her wise compassion, and her generous companionship.

Fâhir gazed at Emma. “What does this have to do with anything, now?”

She understood that she’d made a faux pas. She shouldn’t have mentioned anything about the matter! She bowed her head and continued to devour her lobster. Tonight, she had to speak in frank terms with the Swede.

For a week Fâhir had been contemplating what Emma had just suggested on her own. But he couldn’t manage to decide, being too insecure, too bound to habit, and because the life into which Emma had initiated him was too exceptional. Not to mention that he had no idea how Nuran would react to such a proposal. Nuran had earlier given him repeated and numerous chances to make up and put the past behind them. What’s really hard is leaving Emma. Not because he loved her, but because he’d always been a slave to his baser desires. He’d never been a man of determination, nor had he been wise enough to leave her at the right time… Not to mention that Emma could display this very determination in his stead. Maybe she’d truly grown tired of him. Who knows, maybe… He thought about what he could recollect vaguely through the drunken haze of the previous night. The South American captain’s chin, hard as a straight razor, and his penetrating glances, appeared. For a time, he and Emma had vanished together. He couldn’t manage to extricate himself from the bridge game. Who knows, and maybe. . and like a fresh knife wound, he suddenly recalled memories that constituted the paradise of his life; Emma’s full gallop to ecstasy and the frenzied clench of wrestling holds. He raised his head in anguish. He watched, as if witnessing a genuine wonder, Emma’s thirty-two teeth grinding up the lobster before her, slowly, quietly, almost as if she were reciting a poem by rote, her eyes exceptionally innocent and languid. The best course of action would be to abandon these meaningless thoughts. He raised his glass. As if to remind her unfaithful lover of the wonderful times they’d once shared, Emma awkwardly repeated the first phrase she’d learned in Turkish: Şerefinize efendim, “Here’s to your honor, sir.”

Her eyes filled with tears of separation that she’d prepared to shed on command. And deep inside she honestly thought: Over the entirety of my life, I’ve always been kicked around by people who didn’t recognize my worth, haven’t I? In Bessarabia, hadn’t that landowner done this? Granted, Emma had made another faux pas then. What call was there to sleep with a stableman, not to mention in broad daylight in the room above the stables? Her entire life had been a chain of misfortunes caused by petty mistakes and lack of foresight. But what could she be expected to do? Men were this way. The landowner, instead of firing his servant, chased her out. The stablehand had pursued her nonetheless. Her fiancé had also left her on account of a similar fiasco. Even if it hadn’t transpired exactly the same way, it was close. But that time she wasn’t to blame. Her prospective brother-in-law was so much younger than Mihael, they had three sisters between them.

“If it’s all right with you, Emma, let’s not go anywhere tonight, okay?”

“As you wish, Fâhir. . You are aware, I’m also quite exhausted, last night…” But there was no need to discuss the previous night.

As soon as the words had left her mouth, she blushed. Would they really be staying in tonight? She returned to her lobster in the wretchedness of having to spend the whole evening alone with Fâhir.

Fâhir stared at his mistress with astonishment. He’d never heard Emma complain of fatigue. And what if I don’t actually leave her, that is, what if she doesn’t leave and go away!

“You are aware, Fâhir, you’ve changed considerably…”

But Fâhir wasn’t listening. He’d become fixated on the popped button of the waiter’s frock. A popped button could at times be a lifesaver. The space of the missing button gave his thoughts unexpected liberty. Seeing that I’m actually annoyed by these creatures known as the fairer sex, for whatever reason do I bother myself with them?

Sabih’s aunt was a portly lady whose face emanated decency and joie de vivre. For thirty-five years she’d suffered the tribulations of an asthmatic and ornery husband whose temperament altered hour to hour; one by one she’d paid off his debts, the whys and hows of which she was ignorant, and raised four children whose dispositions and morals, her husband in mind, she couldn’t trust; nevertheless, she’d married the children off one after another, helped them buy homes and settle down, and now her sole occupation was entertaining visitors in her parlor. In her youth, due to her husband’s temperament, she’d nearly pined away for friendships with other young women. For the past seven years, she’d invited countless guests to her house, serving them all the delicacies of a cuisine, the secrets to which very few ladies were privy.

She greeted Adile and Sabih, whom she quite admired, before the garden gate.

“Where on earth have you been, dearest? I’ve long been expecting you.” She felt for one of her triple-tiered pendant earrings. On such days, Sabriye never failed to wear these earrings, which were a gift from her beloved mother-in-law. Since one of the earring’s middle pendants had snapped off, she’d tied it back together with a piece of thread. And since she feared losing the large diamond and small ruby that it held fast, she checked it every second. As Sabih kissed his aunt on the cheeks, he looked at the roof of the old gardener’s shed; it was still in the same state of collapse as three years ago. Sabriye had no concept of repair or upkeep. In any case, what snapped off and got lost was of a different order than what caved in.