The Birdcage Archives

Thursday 8 December 2011

My Name Is Red

Hello Gentle Reader

One moment a philosophical puzzle, and a debate about art. In another it is a murder mystery and love story. Another time it is smaller stories orbiting larger stories. Much like the Nobel Laureates in Literature earlier novel “The Black Book,” – “My Name Is Red,” is written in a varied style. Layered upon narration and narration, different perspectives and in a sense become style – which is ironic at times (but that’ll be explained later). Many consider “My Name Is Red,” to be the Nobel Laureate in Literature of two thousand and six his best book. It is by all accounts a great and wonderful book. Its character, flexibilities and extreme faults, not to mention emotional responses, and their fitting fears and subtle uncertainty in the time period all give way to a splendid story.

“My Name Is Read,” won the International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award in two thousand and three – three years before Orhan Pamuk was to be bestowed with the honour of being a Nobel Laureate in Literature; in which case his work would then become on par with authors like Naguib Mahfouz, Yasunari Kawabata, J.M. Coetzee, Camilo Jose Cela, Albert Camus, and so many others.

Here are some interesting tid bits of information, that one should know about this book, and the author who wrote this book. One Orhan and Shevket – are the names of Orhan Pamuk and his brother Shevket. Orhan Pamuk from the ages of seven to twenty two, wanted to be a painter – this desire was never filled; however his shift from wanting to be an artist to a writer, has be met with some very positive reinforcement, and his talent is wonderful and has been praised. His experimentation in his plot and narration is both a breath of fresh air, but also quite frankly comprehendible and traversable. With “My Name Is Red,” Orhan Pamuk in many ways has been able to combined his to passions of the literary and art world together here, with his story of murder and the power of art, and the philosophical puzzle of the Islamic religion; but Orhan Pamuk has also been able to use the folk tales and countless stories of the Islamic world, to his advantage in this book. Each story becomes more of a parable. Each story bleeds into each other. Which then creates repetitious metaphors for the book – where Shirin falls in love with Husrev upon looking at his picture – I cannot say how many times I read that same passage throughout this book. Each of those folktales or stories, add something more to the text of the book. Just like the history and stories of Istanbul in “The Black Book.”

These stories, within stories. Fables, and parables, which become mirror like metaphors to the current situation befalling the characters. The complexities of the prose. The dexterity characters, shifting to the events, made this a wonderful book. However secretly I confess that I enjoyed “The Black Book,” a bit more.

“My Name Is Red,” is the postmodern influence on Orhan Pamuk showing at its most extreme. Narrations from different characters – a corpse, a ghost – a dog, a gold coin, a tree, death and even Satan comes to make an appearance (though it becomes apparent after a while that these are not what they first appear). Though for a person just looking at the book, at a bookstore, this would all be slightly unpleasing even a bit worrisome.
However with patience and time, the novel unfolds to reveal itself, like an origami paper sculptor to reveal that even though it at one point was a crane, is not nothing more than a piece of a paper. Which is the same with Orhan Pamuk’s novel “My Name Is Red,” though a complex novel, of love, religion, art, history, and writing – not to mention countless tales told and retold, the political atmosphere – the constant superstitions racing throughout the crowded streets, Jinn’s surely smiling in the flames of oil lamps. Demons crouched in snow banks, willing to tempt the weak hearted and those of no faith. Tortures, who delicately take great care of their instruments, and yet do not yield to the suffering of their victims – in the end, every scene, every puzzle, every bit of narration, it all unfolds like the paper statue to reveal itself to be nothing more than a book – and most important a story.

With so many narrators – and therefore characters; Esther would most likely be my favourite. The cunning little Jewess, with her battles with the little blind beggar and her desire for happiness for all her little marriageable maidens; made for an interesting character. She never took sides – though there was always more than just two sides, in this novel, and therefore, Esther could have very well had her own side, that she herself chose, and even have been the only one to have sided on that side. Which can adequately be seen, how she plays both Hasan and Black with the feelings of Shekure – though Shekure herself; though a little bit emotionally unstable if one asks me, her emotional well being is never truly figured out. When she loves Black she desires Hasan. When she fears Hasan she seeks protection warmth and safety from Black. Truly a complex character, but emotionally as stable as a volcano going through menopause.

Then there is Black. A clerk, who’s traveled throughout Persia, who at the age of twenty four fell in love with the twelve year old Shekure. Quite frankly the story relayed throughout the novel about the story of Shirin, who sets eyes on the picture of Hursev and fell in love with it, often can be said to be the kind of love struck story that both Shekure and Black find themselves in. But Shekure is married to a soldier who is lost at war, and is bound never to return. The younger brother of her husband, loves Shekure – but his love can only be showed by admitting his dominance over her, in everywhere shape or form. By his standard and ideals, it could easily be stated, that Hasan can only love something that fears him, and desire something that willingly obeys him by that fear not because it loves him.

Enishte Effendi and the four miniaturists – Stork (Mustafa), Olive (Velijan), Butterfly (Hasan Chelebi), and Elegant Effendi, are also part of this tale. Elegant Effendi is in fact the first character that anyone who picks up this book will be introduced to. He is the murdered. The pathetic, and cowardly little miniaturist, who first had the feeling that he was doing was going to damn him for all eternity. Stork is the most talented of the miniaturists, but also for the most part, but also the most arrogant. Olive is the one most heavily influenced by the old masters. Butterfly is the one who uses colour expectedly. Enishte Effendi is the one who first has decided to use the infidel (the words of the characters) Frank style of ‘perception,’ over how the paintings were originally done as if to look at the world as the way “Allah,” or God does; however Enishte Effendi wishes to show case the individual characteristics of the world; and is in charge of the secret book which is tearing apart the foundations of the literary and art world of sixteenth century Istanbul. Master Osman is Enishte Effendi complete opposite. Rather than fall into the desire to paint like the Franks, Master Osman believes in sticking strictly with the old ways of the Chinese, and the other great masters – especially the masters like Bihzad. There is also Nusret Hoja the Islamic puritan, and extreme preacher, who is against coffee, painting, coffeehouses, stories and anything that one could maybe find pleasurable.

There are however still some parts of the novel, that I have failed to connect the dots on. Who is Alaf, Ba, Djim – or what are they. The other part is how many does or years do the course of these events take place? At first, it appeared logical thought it must have taken place through one year. But it becomes more apparent that it happened solely in the winter months. Not to mention that it took three days for Master Osman and Black to discover the murder. Among other moments. Though they all add up to a degree, there is still a sense that there is no set time period, beyond the fact that it is taken place during the reign of Sultan Murad III, of the Ottoman Empire, in the sixteenth century. That being said the rule of Murad III was from fifteen-seventy four until fifteen-ninety five, so the action takes place somewhere in the regaining period of the Sultan’s life, probably near the end of his life and reign. It is also noted that Mehmed III the successor of Murad III, was less generous in his patronage of the arts, and therefore the time of the miniaturists that was witnessed in the novel “My Name Is Red,” comes to somewhat of an end, under the conservative rule of Mehmed III – it can be theorized that depicting or painting living things, was an immoral rivalry towards God – which is often a fierce debate by the miniaturists themselves.

The judges of the IMPAC Dublin Literary Award had said the following about the two thousand and three book winner:
“Intelligent, witty and stylish this novel transports the reader to a world both rich and strange. Like the miniature paintings which are at the heart of the book, “My Name Is Red,” is intricate and complex.
A murder mystery in which nature and art mirror one another, it is clear once the reader reaches the last page that red is the colour of ambiguity. Timeless and timely, this byzantine mystery explores an earlier world that remains deeply influential even today. Pamuk's writing is as elegant and multi-faceted as the story he narrates.”
The Swedish Academy had also praised Orhan Pamuk in their reason for him to get the Nobel Prize for Literature. They praised his work for “[who] in the quest for the melancholic soul of his native city has discovered new symbols for the clash and interlacing of cultures.” This can be seen in this novel with the traditions of miniaturists and their work, being jeopardized by the new forms of painting of the Franks.

Modern day Turkey, is the center between the great divide of the West and the East. It is difficult to find a common ground, which this book surely discusses, at various moments. While some embrace the news, others shun it as blasphemy. Some worry about the creation, competing with the great creator of God, which is by all means a great sin. It is a strange novel. A complex, philosophical piece of speculation, but also it is a romping good time, of entertainment and complexities.

Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader
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And As Always
Stay Well Read
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