Orhan Pamuk - My Name is Red

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From one of the most important and acclaimed writers at work today, a thrilling new novel-part murder mystery, part love story-set amid the perils of religious repression in sixteenth-century Istanbul.
When the Sultan commissions a great book to celebrate his royal self and his extensive dominion, he directs Enishte Effendi to assemble a cadre of the most acclaimed artists in the land. Their task: to illuminate the work in the European style. But because figurative art can be deemed an affront to Islam, this commission is a dangerous proposition indeed, and no one in the elite circle can know the full scope or nature of the project.
Panic erupts when one of the chosen miniaturists disappears, and the Sultan demands answers within three days. The only clue to the mystery-or crime?-lies in the half-finished illuminations themselves. Has an avenging angel discovered the blasphemous work? Or is a jealous contender for the hand of Enishte’s ravishing daughter, the incomparable Shekure, somehow to blame?
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.
"Pamuk is a novelist and a great one…My Name is Red is by far the grandest and most astonishing contest in his internal East-West war…It is chock-full of sublimity and sin…The story is told by each of a dozen characters, and now and then by a dog, a tree, a gold coin, several querulous corpses and the color crimson ('My Name is Red')…[Readers will] be lofted by the paradoxical lightness and gaiety of the writing, by the wonderfully winding talk perpetually about to turn a corner, and by the stubborn humanity in the characters' maneuvers to survive. It is a humanity whose lies and silences emerge as endearing and oddly bracing individual truths."- Richard Eder, New York Times Book Review
"A murder mystery set in sixteenth-century Istanbul [that] uses the art of miniature illumination, much as Mann's 'Doctor Faustus' did music, to explore a nation's soul… Erdag Goknar deserves praise for the cool, smooth English in which he has rendered Pamuk's finespun sentences, passionate art appreciations, sly pedantic debates, [and] eerie urban scenes."- John Updike, The New Yorker
"The interweaving of human and philosophical intrigue is very much as I remember it in The Name of the Rose, as is the slow, dense beginning and the relentless gathering of pace… But, in my view, his book is by far the better of the two. I would go so far as to say that Pamuk achieves the very thing his book implies is impossible… More than any other book I can think of, it captures not just Istanbul's past and present contradictions, but also its terrible, timeless beauty. It's almost perfect, in other words. All it needs is the Nobel Prize."-Maureen Freely, New Statesman (UK)
"A perfect example of Pamuk's method as a novelist, which is to combine literary trickery with page-turning readability… As a meditation on art, in particular, My Name is Red is exquisitely subtle, demanding and repaying the closest attention.. We in the West can only feel grateful that such a novelist as Pamuk exists, to act as a bridge between our culture and that of a heritage quite as rich as our own."-Tom Holland, Daily Telegraph (UK)
"Readers… will find themselves lured into a richly described and remarkable world… Reading the novel is like being in a magically exotic dream…Splendidly enjoyable and rewarding… A book in which you can thoroughly immerse yourself." -Allan Massie, The Scotsman (UK)
"A wonderful novel, dreamy, passionate and august, exotic in the most original and exciting way. Orhan Pamuk is indisputably a major novelist."-Philip Hensher, The Spectator (UK)
"[In this] magnificent new novel… Pamuk takes the reader into the strange and beautiful world of Islamic art,in which Western notions no longer make sense… In this world of forgeries, where some might be in danger of losing their faith in literature, Pamuk is the real thing, and this book might well be one of the few recent works of fiction that will be remembered at the end of this century."-Avkar Altinel, The Observer (UK)

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My father’s book, sadly, remained unfinished. From where Hasan scattered the completed pages on the ground, they were transferred to the Treasury; there, an efficient and fastidious librarian had them bound together with other unrelated illustrations belonging to the workshop, and thus they were separated into several bound albums. Hasan fled Istanbul, and disappeared, never to be heard from again. Shevket and Orhan never forgot that it wasn’t Black but their Uncle Hasan who was the one who killed my father’s murderer.

In place of Master Osman, who died two years after going blind, Stork became Head Illuminator. Butterfly, who was also quite in awe of my late father’s talents, devoted the rest of his life to drawing ornamental designs for carpets, cloths and tents. The young assistant masters of the workshop gave themselves over to similar work. No one behaved as though abandoning illustration were any great loss. Perhaps because nobody had ever seen his own face done justice on the page.

My whole life, I’ve secretly very much wanted two paintings made, which I’ve never mentioned to anybody:

1. My own portrait; but I knew however hard the Sultan’s miniaturists tried, they’d fail, because even if they could see my beauty, woefully, none of them would believe a woman’s face was beautiful without depicting her eyes and lips like a Chinese woman’s. Had they represented me as a Chinese beauty, the way the old masters of Herat would’ve, perhaps those who saw it and recognized me could discern my face behind the face of that Chinese beauty. But later generations, even if they realized my eyes weren’t really slanted, could never determine what my face truly looked like. How happy I’d be today, in my old age-which I live out through the comfort of my children-if I had a youthful portrait of myself!

2. A picture of bliss: What the poet Blond Nazım of Ran had pondered in one of his verses. I know quite well how this painting ought to be made. Imagine the picture of a mother with her two children; the younger one, whom she cradles in her arms, nursing him as she smiles, suckles happily at her bountiful breast, smiling as well. The eyes of the slightly jealous older brother and those of the mother should be locked. I’d like to be the mother in that picture. I’d want the bird in the sky to be depicted as if flying, and at the same time, happily and eternally suspended there, in the style of the old masters of Herat who were able to stop time. I know it’s not easy.

My son Orhan, who’s foolish enough to be logical in all matters, reminds me on the one hand that the time-halting masters of Herat could never depict me as I am, and on the other hand, that the Frankish masters who perpetually painted mother-with-child portraits could never stop time. He’s been insisting for years that my picture of bliss could never be painted anyhow.

Perhaps he’s right. In actuality, we don’t look for smiles in pictures of bliss, but rather, for the happiness in life itself. Painters know this, but this is precisely what they cannot depict. That’s why they substitute the joy of seeing for the joy of life.

In the hopes that he might pen this story, which is beyond depiction, I’ve told it to my son Orhan. Without hesitation I gave him the letters Hasan and Black sent me, along with the rough horse illustrations with the smeared ink, which were found on poor Elegant Effendi. Above all, don’t be taken in by Orhan if he’s drawn Black more absentminded than he is, made our lives harder than they are, Shevket worse and me prettier and harsher than I am. For the sake of a delightful and convincing story, there isn’t a lie Orhan wouldn’t deign to tell.

1990-92, 1994-98

Appendix

336-330 B.C.: Dariusruled in Persia. He was the last king of the Achaemenids, losing his empire to Alexander the Great.

336-323 B.C.: Alexander the Greatestablished his empire. He conquered Persia and invaded India. His exploits as hero and monarch were legendary throughout the Islamic world even until modern times.

622: The Hegira.The emigration of the Prophet Muhammad from Mecca to Medina, and the beginning of the Muslim calendar.

1010: Firdusi’s Book of Kings .The Persian poet Firdusi (lived circa 935-1020) presented his Book of Kings to Sultan Mahmud of Ghazni. Its episodes on Persian myth and history-including Alexander’s invasion, tales of the hero Rüstem and the struggle between Persia and Turan-have inspired miniaturists since the fourteenth century.

1206-1227: The reign of Mongol ruler Genghis Khan.He invaded Persia, Russia and China, and extended his empire from Mongolia to Europe.

C. 1141-1209: The Persian poet Nizamilived. He wrote the romantic epic the Quintet , comprised of the following stories, all of which have inspired miniaturist painters: The Treasury of Mysteries, Hüsrev and Shirin, Leyla and Mejnun, The Seven Beauties and The Book of Alexander the Great .

1258: The Sack of Baghdad.Hulagu (reigned 1251-1265), the grandson of Genghis Khan, conquered Baghdad.

1300-1922: The Ottoman Empire,a Sunni Muslim power, ruled southeastern Europe, the Middle East and North Africa. At its greatest extent, the empire reached the gates of Vienna and Persia.

1370-1405: Reign of the Turkic ruler Tamerlane.Subdued the areas that the Blacksheep ruled in Persia. Tamerlane conquered areas from Mongolia to the Mediterranean including parts of Russia, India, Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq and Anatolia (where he defeated the Ottoman Sultan Bayazid I in 1402).

1370-1526: The Timurid Dynasty,established by Tamerlane, fostered a brilliant revival of artistic and intellectual life, and ruled in Persia, central Asia and Transoxiana. The schools of miniature painting at Shiraz, Tabriz and Herat flourished under the Timurids. In the early fifteenth century Herat was the center of painting in the Islamic world and home to the great master Bihzad.

1375-1467: The Blacksheep,a Turkmen tribal federation, ruled over parts of Iraq, eastern Anatolia and Iran. Jihan Shah (reigned 1438-67), the last Blacksheep ruler, was defeated by the Whitesheep Tall Hasan in 1467.

1378-1502: The Whitesheepfederation of Turkmen tribes ruled northern Iraq, Azerbaijan and eastern Anatolia. Whitesheep ruler Tall Hasan (reigned 1452-78) failed in his attempts to contain the eastward expansion of the Ottomans, but he defeated the Blacksheep Jihan Shah in 1467 and the Timurid Abu Said in 1468, extending his dominions to Baghdad, Herat, and the Persian Gulf.

1453: Ottoman Sultan Mehmet the Conquerortook Istanbul. Demise of the Byzantine Empire. Sultan Mehmet later commissioned his portrait from Bellini.

1501-1736: The Safavid Empireruled in Persia. The establishment of Shia Islam as the state religion helped unify the empire. The seat of the empire was at first located in Tabriz, then moved to Kazvin, and later, to Isfahan. The first Safavid ruler, Shah Ismail (reigned 1501-24), subdued the areas that the Whitesheep ruled in Azerbaijan and Persia. Persia weakened appreciably during the rule of Shah Tahmasp I (reigned 1524-76).

1512: The Flight of Bihzad.The great miniaturist Bihzad emigrated from Herat to Tabriz.

1514: The Plunder of the Seven Heavens Palace.The Ottoman Sultan Selim the Grim, after defeating the Safavid army at Chaldiran, plundered the Seven Heavens Palace in Tabriz. He returned to Istanbul with an exquisite collection of Persian miniatures and books.

1520-66: Süleyman the Magnificent and the Golden Age of Ottoman Culture.The reign of Ottoman Sultan Süleyman the Magnificent. Important conquests expanded the empire to the east and the west, including the first seige of Vienna (1529) and the capture of Baghdad from the Safavids (1535).

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