Ahmet Tanpinar - The Time Regulation Institute

Of course no one asked why both men should be afflicted by the same illness. Why would we? Indeed why even doubt such a thing at all? Everyone eventually died of some type of mortal affliction, so naturally Ahmet the Timely had died of one too. What difference did it make if he died of diabetes or a bout of boredom? It was much more important that the esteemed personage should show goodwill and a collaborative spirit. All of us accepted his idea as highly possible, without a moment’s hesitation. I even went so far as to give it a mild stamp of approval:

“Yes, sir, it’s highly likely, considering the man ate nothing but grapes.”

Then he looked at his watch. It was a beautiful, gold-encrusted Longines. “I’m tired,” he said. We were all tired, which is why the coffee Dervis Aga brought in for us, as we stepped into Halit Ayarcı’s office, was so well received. In fact the great man seemed not at all bothered that it contained almost no sugar.

After coffee we went on to discuss the matter of personnel, in much the same way we had done previously. Then came the ritual of congratulation. This time the golden platter passed back and forth between the mayor and the great man until Halit Bey abruptly raised his arms and popped it onto the latter’s lap, like a baby boy in swaddling clothes. My dear benefactor then closed the matter:

“Had I not put my trust in your kind favor, I’d never have considered such an undertaking. I couldn’t possibly thank you enough. And I am delighted that you have offered me the chance to serve you in this capacity.”

This was what he did throughout the entire affair: he spoke only at the most crucial moments, coaxing all in attendance to accept his wishes, without actively seeking acquiescence; and now he was saying that the very foundation of the enterprise was in fact the great man’s, thus making it clear that any further discussion was pointless.

But a man of his experience would never be so foolish as to leave this great institute entirely in our hands.

“I’ve had this institute in mind since the very beginning. It’s as much mine as it is yours… Of course the mayor will be here to assist you…”

He complimented me once more as he left:

“I’d like a copy of the book. You will finish it, Hayri Bey?”

And pinching my cheek, he spoke once again of his high expectations. Leaving the office, he reaffirmed his previous command:

“Distribute those slogans! As soon as possible, and with as broad a reach as you can manage.”

At the top of the stairs, he turned to the mayor, whereupon I heard him whisper, “Just what are these ‘split figures’?”

Halit Ayarcı turned to me after they left:

“I don’t suppose you’ll doubt our work anymore.”

“I suppose not,” I said. “So the institute will be officially established. If only we knew what we were to do.”

“How can you still not know? Why, we’re going to regulate watches and clocks.”

“Yes, but how? With such an overstaffed organization…”

“We’ll find a way. Everyone will have to come up with work based on the name of the position we give them. Once we’re all set up, I’ll send a memo to all our friends asking them to do just this. And naturally they will. They won’t just sit there idly…”

With his hand on the doorknob he asked:

“When will the book be done? I mean, how long will it take you to finish?”

“How will I ever write such a book?” I cried. “And about a man who never even existed!”

Halit Ayarcı furrowed his brow. It was the first time I saw him truly angry.

“What do you mean, a man who never existed? You were just talking about him. Didn’t he live during the reign of Mehmed IV? Didn’t he like the color yellow? ‘The color of the sun,’ as he used to say… You even know that he was a member of the Mevlevi lodge. It is widely accepted that he worked on the Graham calculations and that he died of diabetes. Oh no, my good friend, I will not brook this sort of sabotage. This institute will be a success. Everyone will uphold his responsibilities. And this is your first!”

“That’s all well, but all this is nothing more than nonsense. I made it all up!”

He suddenly grabbed me by the lapel:

“You will write the book! Otherwise you will step inside and write your letter of resignation! I shall not be betrayed by my closest friend at this institute in which I have so much vested time and effort. You yourself were just speaking about the man, and now you’re saying he never existed?”

“I never said the name Ahmet the Timely.”

“But you said Nuri Efendi. What’s the difference?”

Then suddenly he laughed, perhaps because of the sour expression on my face.

“Anything with a name exists, Hayri Bey!” he cried. “So, yes, Ahmet Efendi the Timely exists. He exists in part because we want him to. Indeed our illustrious friend desires the very same. Don’t worry. Just get to work. Now, what progress have you made on the personnel issue? They’re giving us free reign. Where’s your list?”

A little disgruntled, I said, “I hardly know anybody.”

“Well, find them, then.”

“I have no relatives.”

“Everyone has relatives.”

“Perhaps, but none that I know. I don’t know where they are. Should I advertise in the papers?”

He smiled again.

“Ah, Hayri Bey, Hayri Bey,” he said. “You are truly wearing me out. I just haven’t been able to accustom you to these things. No, there’s no need for an advertisement. We’ll just wait a little and see. They’ll come. I suppose it’s time now to invite Sabriye Hanım and Selma Hanım.”

When I stepped back into my room, I saw that Zehra was there waiting for me. She wanted to ask me if she could leave. She looked so happy and beautiful in her new dress. She’d decorated her room in our new apartment so tastefully. At last she was getting on with Pakize. There hadn’t been a fight at home since my wife started treatment for her thyroid gland. Ahmet had put on six kilos in three months. I told my daughter she could leave and that she could take tomorrow off if she wanted to. Instead of thanking me, she simply curtsied and left. I put my head in my hands and began to think things over. No, there’d be no letting up. Even though I was safe now in this labyrinth of lies, I still knew that everyone could see the undeniable and overwhelming truth. The Time Regulation Institute had saved my life.

Halit Ayarcı had brought prosperity to our home. As I was thinking all this over, the telephone rang. It was Halit Ayarcı, speaking in a calm, collected voice that gave no hint of our tense discussion earlier.

“Tomorrow I’ll bring you a few history books — these should help you with your work on Ahmet the Timely. You’ll see just how easy it’s going to be.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“We’ll have it done in a couple of months.”

“I suppose so, sir. You’ll help, of course.”

“Wait a little before you invite Sabriye Hanım and Selma Hanım. I’m going now, if there’s anything, call me at home.”

“Yes, sir.”

IV

The press had taken an interest in the institute since the day it opened its doors. The closer we came to obtaining official permission to extend our personnel, the more the newspapers wrote about us. We were literally the talk of the town. The institute’s organizational structure, its aims, objectives, and modus operandi — all these were heatedly discussed in the press, and naturally the personal lives of the manager, assistant manager, or other staff members were considered fair game. Some of the dailies were charmed by Halit Ayarcı, while others were shocked that a project this important and ambitious should have been entrusted to a businessman of his ilk. Others posed the question, “Just what does this institute intend to do?” Halit Ayarcı read each and every piece with care, laughing away all criticism with good humor.