ORHAN PAMUK AND HIS "BLACK BOOK"
Bernt Brendemoen:
In the history of the Turkish
novel it was not until the nineteen — eighties that writers appeared who regarded
the novel not primarily as a medium for communicating political or social messages,
but as a form of literature with an artistic value of its own, where language,
style and narrative techniques played a role no less important than the contents.
As had been the case with the development of the Turkish novel in the Tanzimat
period, so this new way of regarding the potentials of the novel was closely
connected to Western influence: In the nineteen — seventies and eighties, a
generation of writers had emerged who knew foreign languages well enough to
read European and American writers in their original languages. These writers
successfully tried to transfer the characteristics of style and narration techniques
they found in authors such as Marcel Proust, James Joyce, and Celine, to their
own Turkish art of novel writing. The most important Turkish writers who have
followed this path are, in my opinion, Adalet Agaoglu, Nazli Eray. and Orhan
Pamuk.
Kara Kitap —
"The Black Book" — is the fourth novel by Orhan Pamuk, who was born
in 1952. The first, Cevdet Bey ve Ogullarý, which appeared in 1982, is a long family novel
with a certain conceptual similarity to Thomas Mann's Buddenbrooks; the
second, Sessiz Ev, which appeared in 1983 and has been translated into
French, is a complex novel where perception of time and reality, and also identity,
which is of great importance also in his later two novels, are the central motifs.
With the third, Beyaz Kale, which appeared in 1985, and has been translated
into several languages, Orhan Pamuk acquired international renown. The central
theme of this novel, is again identity, illustrated by two men who more or less
become doubles. The fourth, "The Black Book", which is the topic for
this talk, appeared in Turkey in 1990, but has not appeared in any foreign language
yet. It is being translated into English, French, German, and Norwegian,
and the first of these translations will appear in 1994. This novel has caused
discussions in Turkish literary circles and uproar in Turkish cultural life
in general probably unsurpassed since the appearance or Mahmut Makal's novel
Bizim Köy
in 1950. The most important of the critical
discussions and analytical reviews of the book have been collected into an anthology
by Nüket Esen...
I am quite convinced that "The Black Book" will cause new discussions
when it appears in foreign languages.
Although "The Black
Book" is generally characterized as a postmodern novel, it also has a place
within an Islamic literary tradition dating back to the first centuries of Islam.
Except for Orhan Pamuk's adaptation of certain Islamic motifs, this tradition
has disappeared completely from modern Turkish literature, owing to the cultural
changes in Turkey in this century. I mean that "The Black Book" on
a certain level can be read as a sufi tale, as it contains clear parallels
both to details and to the plots in such tales. Although the author is at least
as influenced by European literature as other contemporary Turkish writers,
he has succeeded in incorporating certain important elements from traditional
Islamic literature in his plot and thematics.
Islamic mysticism or sufism
is the teaching about the different paths or methods human beings should
follow in order to get closer to God and eventually unite with Him. The novice
— murid — who wished to approach this goal had to go through certain
stages. During this process his spiritual leader, that is the shaykh of the
order — tarikat — he belonged to, or some other mürsid (spiritual guide), would
reveal to him those eternal truths and secrets he had to know in order to reach
as far as possible in his quest. In some orders the role of the shaykh was so
important that he was compared to the mihrab — the prayer niche of a
mosque; this means that the shaykh was not only a person inspiring respect and
admiration, but that he possessed an almost holy capacity. In literature, e.g.
in such love stories as Leyla and Mecnun, the theme of earthly love was
used for sufi purposes, i.e. as an analogy and allegory of divine love,
and in these stories, earthly love is turned or sublimated into divine love:
The lover searches within himself and finds the beloved there. Thus, the lover
and the beloved become one and the same person: You are me, and I you. The secret
that reveals itself to the novice is the unification of the novice himself,
the beloved one, and love itself; God, too, may participate in this union. (The
precise contents of the "Secret" may differ somewhat among the different
orders, but essentially it may be characterized as "Man's realization of
himself and of his spiritual potential".)
In order that his reader
should understand the allusions he makes to sufi literature in the course
of his novel, Orhan Pamuk has incorporated the necessary information on this
subject in the relevant chapters — the Turkish readers today, at least the kind
of readers that would be capable of and interested in reading "The Black
Book", are so secularized and devoid of knowledge about sufi literature
that
most of them would not
be able to appreciate the sufi aspects of the novel without
such references.
One of the sufi poets
Orhan Pamuk frequently refers to is Farid ud-Din 'Attar from Khorasan, who lived
at the end of the 12th and the beginning of the 13th century. In his mesnevi Mantik-ut-tayr,
or "The Conference
of the Birds", he describes how the birds from all over the world come
together in order to choose a king. The hoopoe — who is known in Islamic tradition
as the messenger of King Salomon - tells the other birds that they already have
a king, a bird named Simurgh, but that he lives far away, behind the
mountain of Kaf. Most of the birds give various excuses for not participating
in the dangerous journey to their king, but in the end thirty birds set off.
After having passed through seven valleys which symbolize the seven stages a
novice must traverse on his sufi path, they reach the castle of the Simurgh,
but what meets them there is nothing but a mirror. In Persian si means
"thirty", and murgh means "bird". The Simurgh
is "thirty birds" it is themselves. What they have been searching
for is themselves, or. rather, it is within themselves.
Let us now briefly go through
the plot of "The Black Book".
The real hero of the novel
is perhaps Istanbul, perhaps literature as an essential part of life, but if
we only look at the exterior plot, the "hero" is a 33 -year — old lawyer by the name
of Galip. Galip is married to his paternal cousin Ruya, whom he has known since
childhood. The name Ruya means "dream" in Turkish. They have spent
their childhood together in the apartment building Sehrikalp in the main street
of Nisantasi one of the upper class neighborhoods of Istanbul, but because of
some unspecified economic disaster their families have been forced to sell their
apartment building and to move to other, more modest flats in back streets in
the same neighborhood. The reader never meets Ruya. Another person the reader
does not meet is the person Galip admires most of all in his life, his paternal
cousin Celal. who is Ruya's stepbrother and twenty years older than himself.
Celal is a famous columnist in the newspaper Milliyet. Every other chapter
of "The Black Book" consists of articles by Celal which have appeared
in his column. All these articles contain more or less hidden clues that may
help the reader — and Galip — to understand and interpret the action in the
other chapters. The plot that develops in the main chapters, where Galip is
the protagonist, begins with Ruya s disappearance - she leaves behind just a
small note for Galip - and continues with Galip's search for her in Istanbul
through eight snowy winter days. Galip's quest takes him to the strangest quarters
of the
city, brings him into contact
with the weirdest individuals, and plunges him into the most original ideas.
He reviews his relation with Ruya and wonders why she has never opened herself
completely to him, but always has acted as if she wanted to escape into another
world. On this level the novel is the story about unhappy love between two human
beings. Galip tries to find Celal in order to get his advice, but it then turns
out that Celal has disappeared too. Nevertheless the newspaper appears with
his column every day. but the articles printed are old ones originally published
20 or 30 years earlier. First Galip searches for his wife at her ex-husband's
place; she has previously been married to a militant leftist. Pamuk's description
of this kind of activist, who after a certain age adopts the opposite political
view and becomes more and more bourgeois, is quite expert: in this character
the dream of socialism has now been taken over by nationalistic fervor, and
his great idea is that the West has started a. conspiracy to brainwash the Turks
by the means of the movies — movies that present a reality to the viewers quite
different from their own. This notion, which is presented in different shapes
and versions throughout the novel, is closely related to the identity motif:
Because of the movies we (or the Turks) get accustomed to a reality that is
not our own; we are not ourselves, but have become other persons. As we shall
see, motifs such as "lost identity, lost memory, and lost secrets"
are again closely related to this theme.
Galip understands that
Ruya and Celal are hiding somewhere together: They have disappeared on the same
day; and besides. Celal needs somebody to help him re-establish his memory:
Celal suffers from memory loss, and has discovered that the best remedy against
this disease is to tell stories. As his stepsister Ruya is the person closest
to him, it is most probable that they are together. The loss of memory symbolizes
decay, analogous to the cinema theme. The decay of Istanbul is a third theme
which frequently is taken up parallel to this; and a fourth is the general decay
in Turkey: Thanks to imitation of the West, which has been going on since the
last century, but which reached its peak with Ataturk's reforms, the Turks have
been forced to adopt a brand new identity and have consequently forgotten their
original one. The fact that books written before 1930 have been rendered incomprehensible
to the modern generation through the language reform, is not a topic taken up
directly by Orhan Pamuk; nevertheless, the cultural vacuum this reform has resulted
in, which later has been filled up with borrowed western goods, is no doubt
what he refers to by this
"identity crisis".
The various individuals
whom Galip meets during his search through Istanbul in the first half of the
novel illustrate different aspects of this identity problem. Just as the cinema
has turned the Turks into other people, all of us live with a secret dream of
becoming someone else: Galip admires his cousin Celal so much that he would
like to resemble him, to become him, to take his place; and Celal's articles
are full of stories about people who are not able to be themselves but are somebody
else all the time. Slowly this identity theme takes a turn in the sufi direction:
During the different stages of self-reflection and search in his own mind Galip,
thanks to his great love for Celal and Ruya, perceives both of them within himself,
and eventually he becomes Celal. In the first half of the novel, however,
Galip has not yet reached very far on the sufi path, and his thoughts
are generally occupied with different aspects of identity. One of the episodes
illustrating identity problematics is the chapter entitled "Guess who's
here", where Galip, in the course of his peregrinations in the
city, suddenly finds himself in a brothel. The woman he meets there is playing
the role of the famous Turkish actress Türkan Soray playing a prostitute
in the film Vesikali Yarim — " Whore or Madonna" — as we see,
an extremely complex identy shift.
The human desire either to be oneself
or to become somebody else is also the subject of the chapter where Galip
visits a nightclub where everyone around the table tells a story. The
subject of all the stories is a love relation where the woman disappears
for some reason or another; at the same time, the identity theme is also
indirectly illustrated in these stories. After the nightclub, Galip goes
together with several of the guests to a workshop near by the Galata Tower
where shop-window dummies are manufactured, but the dummies that have
been produced there for a century are not of the kind seen in shop windows
today; they are dummies made in a style from a period before the admiration
of the West became predominant: These dummies represent "real Turks".
But the manufacturer has not been able to sell any of them, for, as one
of the shop-owners told him: "No customer wants a coat worn by one
of those bowlegged, swarthy, mustached countrymen of ours whom he sees
in ten thousands in the streets every day; no. the customer wants
a jacket worn by a new and "beautiful" person from a distant,
unknown world, so he can believe that he, too, can change and become someone
else with this jacket." (p. 60.)
One of the dummies portrays
Celal. The son of the manufacturer of the dummies, who guides the party through
the underground passages of the workshop, speaks of Celal with contempt. Both
the reader and Galip get the
impression that Celal has
betrayed some cause or revealed a hidden secret, but we do not learn more about
this issue at this stage. After the tour of the dummies in the underground corridors,
Galip is taken to the Süleymaniye
mosque by a woman he does not know but who claims that she knows him: She claims
that she was in the same class at school as Galip and Riiya, but Galip cannot
remember her. She tells him that she has been living all the years since then
with the desire of taking Rüya's place and become the
woman by Galip's side, and that this desire has almost driven her mad. If the
descent into the corridors of the dummies was a descent into the Inferno, the
ascent to the top of one of the minarets of the Süleymaniye mosque is like a visit to Paradise,
and the woman who claims that she knows Galip, and who shows him the way up
the minaret, takes the place of Beatrice guiding Dante around Paradise.
After this point in the
novel, Galip's search for the Secret develops into an important theme. Only
gradually the reader understands that the Secret is identical with the Sufi
mystery. In some chapters the secret seems to be a projection of Rüya. but in others it appears
to be the way to become oneself or someone else; in still other parts of the
novel, it is suggested that the Secret is a metaphysical truth hidden in a world
within the world we inhabit, a truth which human beings previously have been
in command of, and which has given meaning to their lives, but which
now has been forgotten for such a long time that the present generations even
have forgotten that they have forgotten it. If we interpret the novel as a sufi
tale, the Secret may have several meanings, not mutually exclusive. However,
the essence of all these aspects is probably, as mentioned above, "the
way to finding oneself, the way to realizing one's own potential".
Slowly Galip begins to
feel that the objects in his surroundings are trying to tell him something,
and that they are the signs of another reality. He starts to imagine that letters
have a hidden meaning. This idea, already touched upon in several stories told
in the first chapters of the book, develops into an obsession in Galip's mind.
In Islamic terms, he approaches Hurufism, the science of the secret meaning
of the Arabic letters, which is to play an especially important part in the
second half of the book. This Islamic cabbalistic philosophy, which was founded
and propagated by Fazlallah of Astarabad in Khorasan in the 14th century, was
within a short time condemned by the ulema as heresy. According to the Hurufis,
sound and language are the most obvious proofs of existence, and the Arabic
letters with which the Koran has been written, are manifestations of God. And
because human beings are extensions of the godhead, it is possible to read these
letters in their faces.
However — at least in Orhan Pamuk's version of Hurufism — it is easier to read
the letters in the faces of some people than of others. From the great number
of drawings found in Turkey, depicting human faces and animals consisting of
Arabic letters, it is clear that Hurufism was especially prominent in Anatolian
Islam. It has played an especially important part in the Bektasi order.
In "The Black Book",
the letters that can be read in some persons' faces represent or symbolize special
powers or capacities that those persons possess. When Galip in the second half
of the book succeeds in seeing and reading the letters in his own face, this
corresponds to his taking over Celal's identity and his own emergence as a writer.
Toward the end of the first
half of the book, Galip, interpreting the signs he observes around the city,
is convinced that Ruya and Celal are hiding in the apartment building Sehrikalp,
where Galip and Ruya spent their childhood and where Celal used to live as a
young journalist. From the wife of the janitor he learns that Celal has bought
back the apartment years ago, but does not want anyone to know that he is living
there. Galip steals the key to the apartment, and the first half of the novel
concludes with his opening the door of the apartment, and thus, in a way, going
through the looking-glass. The days he spends in Celal's apartment correspond
to the stage when a sufi novice completes the path into the world within
this world, or rather, within himself, and concentrates on the unio mystica.
To put it another way, we may say that the first half of "The Black
Book" is devoted to Galip's understanding that there exists a secret and
the second half with his penetration into it.
Galip finds neither Ruya
nor Celal in the apartment, but he does find an enormous cupboard where Celal
has filed everything he has written during his life as a journalist, and also
an important part of what he has read. In order to find clues to where Celal
and Ruya may have hidden, he starts to go through and read the contents of the
cupboard. Thus he gradually takes over Celal's memory, without, however, being
aware of it. He settles down in the apartment flat, and starts using Celal's
pajamas and sleeping in Celal's bed. Gradually assuming Celal's identity, he
eventually starts to write articles for the newspaper in Celal's name. In this
way he at the same time realizes his own potential as a writer. The reader now
understands more clearly that the Secret has to do with a person's finding his
own identity, but at the same time that one cannot be oneself without being
someone else: The only way a person can become himself is by becoming
someone else. Although this paradox
is not explained fully in the novel, it should perhaps be interpreted
in the following way: By losing oneself in the love for another person
one becomes that person, but because of the intensity of this feeling
and the synthesis "you — I — love" one also realizes one's own
potential. The interpretation "self realization through love"
is supported by the sentence "The key is love", which appears
somewhat unmotivatedly in another chapter in the book. But there is another
theme, parallel to this, which is the notion that one can become oneself
by telling stories. When Galip finally feels that he is himself, this
occurs while he is telling the story about a prince "who had discovered
that the most important question in life is whether a person can be himself
or not". The interpretation of these two themes as general "messages"
from the author implies certain logical difficulties I shall not go into
here. On the whole, the "message" "one cannot become oneself
unless one becomes somebody else" is perhaps so contradictory that
it should be interpreted to the effect that searching for oneself is actually
futile because the "pure self" liberated from all exterior influence
simply cannot be found.
While Galip is going through
Celal's cupboard, a certain individual, who naturally takes him for Celal, repeatedly
calls him up and tells him that he wants to see him. In order to explain to
Celal how much he loves him and appreciates his column, this individual constantly
refers to articles Celal has written. It turns out that this person, who presents
himself as Mahir Ikinci — ikinci means "second" — knows all Celal's
articles just as well as Galip does; the reason why he calls himself Ikinci
is probably related to this, as he is some kind of a second Galip. In spite
of his persistence, Galip refuses to give him his address. In a later chapter,
Mahir Ikinci's wife calls Galip (also, of course, believing that he is Celal).
She, as it turns out, was Celal's mistress many years ago. She now tells him
how one specific sentence in one of Celal's latest articles made her believe
that Celal was summoning her, so she ran away from home, leaving her husband
a short note — just as Ruya has done to Galip; and now she absolutely must see
Celal. Just when Galip is about to give her his address, she reveals that her
husband actually has found her and brought her back home, and that he has forced
her to call Celal in order to get his address. Now the reader also learns why
Mahir ikinci insists on meeting Celal: He wants to kill him. Not because Celal
was his wife's lover many years ago, but because he has come to realize that
Celal has been deceiving his readers through all his years as a columnist, and
that the literary tricks he has been using and the stories he has been telling
have nothing to
do with reality, but are
just stories told for their own sake. He has discovered that all Celal's promises
through the years have just been literary nonsense he has made up in order to
make himself interesting, and that he has abused the confidence of his readers
in this way. This, as it turns out, is the meaning of Celal's "betrayal",
which is vaguely referred to in several places in the first half of the novel.
At the end of their talk on the telephone Galip succeeds in making Mahir Ikinci
give up his plan to kill him (that is, Celal). and they make an appointment
to meet on a certain corner at nine o'clock the same evening. When the novel
ends with Celal found murdered on that corner, the major suspect in the reader's
eyes is of course Mahir Ikinci.
As mentioned above, Galip's adoption
of Celal's identity as a writer is one of the main themes of the second
half of the novel. There are other important elements as well: Several
allusions to Islamic literature that are only vaguely hinted at in the
first half of the book, are here unfolded and elaborated: In one of the
files in the cupboard Galip finds Celal's articles about Mevlana, i.e.
Mevlana Celaleddin [Calal-ud-din] Rumi — the great Sufi who lived
in Konya in Western Anatolia in the 13th century. It is a well-known fact
that Mevlana was very close to, or perhaps in love with, a dervish by
the name of Sems from Tabriz, and that the novices, as they saw that their
shaykh was giving all his attention to this individual, threatened Sems
so that he fled to Damascus. Sometime later he returned to Konya, and
shortly thereafter his body was found in a well near Mevlana's house.
Celal deals with these historical events in one of his columns, and offers
an extremely original interpretation: that it was Mevlana himself who
killed Sems: Since Mevlana had now written his major work, the Divan
ofSems-i Tabrizi, and thus had reached the zenith of
his literary fame, he no longer needed the inspiration for his literary
success, i.e. Sems, and so disposed of him. Here the reader seems to be
provided with a clue to interpret the murder of Celal when that takes
place at the end of the novel; the whole novel is, by the way, full of
such clues - some of which are indeed relevant for our interpretation,
while others are just red herrings. It should also be mentioned that the
parallelism between Mevlana and Celal is already established in the mind
of the Turkish reader by Celal's name, which corresponds to Mevlana Celaleddin
Rumi.
As already mentioned, the
novel ends with Celal being found dead on the corner where Galip and Mahir ikinci
have made an appointment to meet the same evening. Ruya's body is found among
some dolls in a shop nearby. Even if Mahir ikinci is the major suspect in the
eyes of the reader, the police are not interested in
Galip's account of the
mysterious telephone calls from that individual. So the one who is eventually
hanged for Celal's murder is a quite different person, not involved in the plot
at all. But we, the readers, may still ask who it actually was who killed Celal
and Ruya. If we return to the story about Mevlana and Sems and identify Galip
with Mevlana and Celal with Sems we arrive at a new solution which is a bit
more sophisticated than the obvious one: Until the moment when Galip reads the
letters in his own face and becomes a writer, Celal is the shaykh, that is,
Mevlana; but after this point Galip becomes the star columnist, the outstanding
writer, in other words Mevlana (and because his memory is intact, he becomes
an even more brilliant writer than Celal). And since he no longer needs the
person to whom he owes his success, i.e. Celal. he kills him. Furthermore, if
we let Ruya — the Dream — symbolize creative power, now Galip has found this
power, namely within himself, and so he does away with Ruya as well, because
he no longer needs her. But Galip has an alibi for the time when the murder
took place, so he cannot be the murderer. Could it have been not murder at all,
but suicide ? Could Celal, aware that his memory was dying and that he would
soon be unable to write any more, be looking for a successor, someone he could
turn his profession over to ? Has he made Galip fall into a trap which he. Celal,
has planned down to the tiniest detail ? When the bewildered Galip wanders around
Istanbul in the first part of the book, he speaks of a "hand"
directing him; this could be — as is hinted at several times — the hand of Celal,
who has planned everything. But with this interpretation, too, it is impossible
to say how the actual murder (or suicide) took place. Whatever solution we choose
there remain a lot of obscure details. If we interpret Mahir Ikinci as a second
Galip, the question who the killer is, of course loses its importance. As a
detective story, "The Black Book" fits the following description which
occurs in one of the early chapters: "Galip had once told Ruya that if
a detective story were written where not even the author knew who the murderer
was, [he might be interested in reading it].... Ruya, who was a better reader
of novels than Galip, wondered how the number of clues could be limited in such
a novel. For in detective stories, all the clues point to a single solution."
(p. 51.)
Indeed, the enormous variety
of hints and clues that play themselves out in the plot is one of the most entertaining
aspects of The Black Book". In one of the early chapters, for example,
the idea is floated that Celal may one day maybe found dead on a dark street
because he deceives his readers. Celal's articles especially are full of such
subtle hints and anticipations. When e.g. Celal ends one
of his articles with the
sentence "One day I can perhaps write an article about those dolls and
our dreams", this turns out to be a macabre foreshadowing of Rüya's being found dead among
the dolls.
Another fascinating aspect
of the book is the impression, created by all the hints and literary allusions,
that the different levels of the plot fit into one another like "Chinese
boxes" — this image actually occurs in one of the early chapters,
where they are described as part of an act performed by a magician in
a nightclub. This structural principle becomes especially clear in the
chapter entitled "The story entered the mirror" towards the
end of the book, where Celal, or rather, Galip, tells about a boy
and a girl who have grown up in the same apartment building. They fell
in love with one another when they were reading a certain book
together in their childhood, (p. 341): "What was, then, the story
that was told in the book they had been reading together? In this
story, which took place a long time ago, a boy and a girl were born into
the same clan. The girl and the boy, Hüsn and Ask — Beauty and Love —
who lived at the edge of a desert, were born on the same night, got instruction
from the same teacher, strolled along the same pools and fell in love.
Many years later, when the boy wanted to marry the girl, the chieftains
of the clan laid down the condition that he should go to the Realm of
Hearts and bring backthe Elixir (or the Philosopher's stone). The boy
sets out, but is met by severe trials: He falls into a well and becomes
the prisoner of the painted witch; in another well that he falls into,
he becomes intoxicated by the thousands of forms and faces he sees
there; he falls in love with the daughter of the King of China
because she resembles his loved one; he gets out of the wells, but is
imprisoned in fortresses; he is followed, he follows, he struggles
against winter, he travels long distances, he pursues tracks and signs;
he buries himself in the secret of letters and tells and listens
to stories. In the end, Suhan — " Word' or "Reason"
— who has been following him the whole time in different disguises and
has rescued him from the difficulties, tells him: "You are your beloved,
and your beloved is you; have you still not understood that?" Then
the boy remembers how he fell in love with the girl when they were
reading a book together while getting instruction from the same teacher."
(p. 341.)
While illustrating the
special feature of the plot which I mentioned above, this passage is also significant
from another point of view. The author draws here a clear parallel between his
own work and the sufi work by which he has-been inspired, Seykh Ghalib's
Hüsn ü
'Ask. Seykh Ghalib, who lived
between 1757 and 1799, was the shaykh of a dervish congregation — a tekke
— within the
Mevlevi order, founded by
Mevlana. Of course, it is no coincidence that the hero of "The Black
Book" has the same name as Seykh Ghalib and that the plot bears a
close resemblance to that of Hüsn ü 'Ask.
In the same way the apartment building called Sehrikalp — "City
of Hearts" — where Ruya and Galip grew up as children, is a clear
allusion to Diyar-i Kalb — "Realm of Hearts" — where 'Ask was
sent to bring back the elixir. Seykh Ghalib in Hüsn ü
'Ask tells that he got his inspiration from Mevlana's Mesnevi.
Likewise, he has become the shaykh of the dervish order thanks to
Mevlana's teachings. In similar fashion it is possible for Galip, the
hero of Orhan Pamuk's novel, to find his own identity, to take the place
of Celal and to write the story about Galip and Ruya, that is "The
Black Book", by reading Celal's articles. Thus Galip, who in the
story is equivalent to 'Ask. attains his dream (Rüya = Hüsn) and at the
same time becomes the author (Celal = Seykh Ghalib) . (It should also
be mentioned that Ghalib, which is one of Allah's 99 names, means "victorious".)
The fact that allusions
are made to this literary model quite frequently, together with the great number
of allusions to other literature both Islamic and European, makes it a sensible
question to ask if perhaps "The Black Book" could be interpreted as
a book about literature. The efforts Galip makes to penetrate the Hurufi
doctrines and to discover the letters in other people's faces and finally
in his own, could no doubt be interpreted as an allegory of the efforts made
by a would-be writer to become an author and to find his own style. For as soon
as Galip sees the letters in his own face, however frightful they may be (we
do not know what they say), he sits down and starts writing Celal's articles.
Towards the end of the novel we learn indirectly that the reason why Galip was
so unhappy in his marriage to Ruya, and all the time wanted to become somebody
else, was that he lacked the ability to tell stories. It is already clear in
the early chapters that he does not understand literature very well. But as
the plot develops he both acquires a taste for literature and the ability to
tell stories. From another point of view as well it would be justified to interpret
"The Black Book" as a book about literature: The novel contains profound
discussions about plagiarism. Celal has taken (or "stolen") the theme
of most of his articles from sufi poets, and one of his articles is a
travesty of "The Grand Inquisitor" in Dostoyevski's "The Brothers
Karamazov".
The literary motive "originality
vs. plagiarism" is a counterpart of the identity problematics, i. e. that
of being oneself or someone else, but at the same time it has a function of
its own. On this level "The Black Book" may be characterised as a
metanovel.
A final aspect of "The
Black Book" which should not go unmentioned is its Joycean character. It
resembles Ulysses in its relish for details, in its character
as a kind of prose epic, evoking all the colours and sounds and smells of Istanbul,
as Joyce evoked Dublin. The Turkish literary critic Enis Batur has said that
contrary to earlier Istanbul writers, Orhan Pamuk "penetrates Into the
subconsciousness of the city".
The different levels of
"The Black Book" are of course not like steps the reader may descend
— or ascend — in a certain order. The motifs are all interwoven, and the painting
presented by the author is full of details which may have, and may not have
a meaning for the reader. This structural characteristic is the main reason
why the novel has been called postmodern. With regard to theme, style and
language the book is so complex that each reader must decide what is meaningful
and what is insignificant. Thus the reader becomes like Galip, wandering about
Istanbul, searching for clues, chasing after an elusive spouse, or identity,
or dream.
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