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Tales of the city
Robert Irwin
07 July 1995
Orhan Pamuk THE BLACK BOOK Translated by Gueneli Gun
400pp. Faber. - 0 571 16892 2
According to Turkish folklore, the Simurgh is a bird
with a name but no body. In the thirteenth-century Conference of the Birds
by the Persian poet Farid al-Din al-Attar, the Simurgh, which nests on
the equally legendary Mount Kaf, becomes the object of a mystical quest
a quest which ends in self-discovery for its participants.
The Black Book, the second of Orhan Pamuk's books to
be translated into English (it was originally reviewed in the TLS of October
12, 1990), takes a similar form, as Galip, a rather colourless lawyer,
searches for his missing wife Ruya. (Ruya is Turkish for "dream",
though it also happens to be the name of a cinema in the insalubrious
Beyoglu quarter of Istanbul; Pamuk's book is saturated with references
to dreams, of both the physiological and the celluloid kind.) The hunt
for Ruya develops into a search for her half-brother Jelal, a flamboyant
and mysterious newspaper columnist, for Galip is possessed by the notion
that his wife has gone into hiding with him. As he follows the tracks
of Jelal, Galip comes to identify with his quarry, to the point of secretly
taking over the writing of his column for him. Unlike the mystical seekers
after the truth who travel the world in al-Attar's medieval romance, Galip's
quest for the sweet cheat gone never takes him out of Istanbul. The Black
Book is, before all, a tale of the city. When Galip visits a subterranean
storehouse of dolls, he looks on models representing Istanbul types the
sort of people tourists rarely get to know:
He saw bingo men with their draw sacks. He saw snotty,
stressed-out university students. He saw apprentice nut roasters, bird
fanciers, and treasure seekers. He saw those who have read Dante in order
to prove that all Western art and thought have been appropriated from
the East, and those who have drawn maps in order to prove that the objects
called minarets are in fact signal posts erected by extraterrestrials,
and he saw the mannequins of theological-school students who, having been
struck by a high tension cable, were jolted into a collective blue funk
which enabled them to recite daily events which had happened some two
hundred years back. In the muddy chambers, he saw mannequins who had been
teamed into groups of mountebanks, impersonators, sinners and impostors.
He saw couples who were unhappily married, ghosts who were restless, and
war dead who had bolted their sepulchres . . . .
Istanbul is an apocalyptic city, whose inhabitants wait
for a Messiah who will bear His cabalistic (that is literary) credentials
written on His face. Galip's quest is a search for signs and meanings
in a shabby city, as he looks for omens in the activities of the pimps
and the vendors of sesame rings, in the posters advertising Bruce Lee
films, in the dusty clutter of shop windows and in the pattern of the
narrow, twisting streets. He comes to believe that the city is a book
which can be read only if one also knows that each person has their destiny
written on their face.
The Black Book is not one story but many. In this it
resembles The Thousand and One Nights, another collection of what are
overwhelmingly urban stories, and Pamuk repeatedly draws attention to
the medieval Arab story collection as a source for many of the themes
and motifs that he is working with. At several points, the reader encounters
pastiches or reheatings of old tales from the Nights, most notably in
a story, "A Lengthy Chess Game", produced by Jelal for his newspaper
column. This story is closely modelled on the tale of "The Mock Caliph",
in which Harun al-Rashid encounters his double on a boat floating down
the Tigris. The medieval Nights story (which, after its marvellously mysterious
opening, turns into a fairly conventional Arab love story) has been reworked
by several modern writers. Naguib Mahfouz in Arabian Nights and Days (1995)
turned it into a parable about protest against political oppression. Gueneli
Gun (who by an odd twist of fate and destiny has become the translator
into English of The Black Book) gave it a transvestite and feminist slant
in her fine novel On the Road to Baghdad (1991). But Pamuk characteristically
turns the story into a metaphysical parable about the doubtful frontiers
of individual identity.
Another of The Black Book's oriental sources is the
Mathnawi Discourses, a rambling compilation of fables, stories and mystical
meditations cast in verse form by the thirteenth-century Sufi poet Jalal
al-Din al-Rumi. The Mathnawi Discourses provides Pamuk with licence to
meander, digress and be cryptic. Rumi is traditionally credited with the
formation of the Mevlevi order of Whirling Dervishes. A later Mevlevi
poet, Seyh Galip (175799), namesake of The Black Book's protagonist, is
frequently quoted. Pamuk draws on the numerous Arab and Persian romances
of star-crossed lovers and to a greater extent on the word-playing parlour
games of the Ottoman court and literary elite.
There are other tales of the city which have furnished
models for Pamuk. Thomas de Quincey's opium-driven pursuit of the prostitute
Anne through the streets of London becomes, retrospectively, a prefiguration
of Galip's rather odd way of trying to track down his wife. Dante Alighieri's
transposition both of Florentine factional politics and of his love for
an unattainable woman into the after-life provides more material for Pamuk's
postmodernist game. The Hollywood B movie has affinities with oriental
tales of star-crossed lovers, while crossword puzzles are the Western
answer to the Ottoman parlour games. It is easy to list the influences,
for the author signals them insistently. Pamuk deprecates originality,
and there are several highly original passages in the book on the unimportance
of originality. Confusingly, not only does he signal his actual borrowings,
he also cites imaginary ones. I am sure that Bottfolio and Ibn Zerhani
are made up. I am not sure about Dr Ferit Kemal, who had a Dostoevskyan
treatise on the coming of the Messiah printed in Paris and who was acquainted
with Baudelaire's Les Paradis artificiels. He ought to have existed.
The Black Book is a fiction which tackles, again and
again, the question of Turkey's shaky cultural identity, as that identity
comes under attack from European literature, hamburgers and Hollywood.
As Galip learns, even Turkish body language has been changed by Western
films. The identity of the individual is even more central to the book.
Pamuk's characters find it very difficult to be themselves. They are always
tempted to imitate, or to fake, or to be influenced. As Jelal puts it:
"I must be myself, I repeated without paying any attention to them,
their voices, smells, desires, their love, their hate. If I can't be myself,
then I become who they want me to be, and I cannot bear the person they
want me to be; and rather than be that intolerable person they want me
to be, I thought it would be better that I be nothing at all, or not to
be."
Pamuk's first (and untranslated) novel Cevdet Bey and
His Sons (1982), an account of the lives of three generations of a wealthy
Istanbul family, was a realist novel in the manner of Thomas Mann's Buddenbrooks
or Mahfouz's Cairo Trilogy. The Silent House (1983) was more modernist
in its use of multiple voices and investigated the nature of identity.
Pamuk's third novel, The White Castle, his only novel to be translated
into English, was a historical fiction, set in the seventeenth century,
which was again more preoccupied with exploring problems of cultural and
individual identity than it was with history. The Black Book has been
both a bestseller and a succes d'estime in Turkey. It success has provoked
the appearance, in 1992, of Kara Kitap: uezerine Yazilar (The Black Book:
Writings about it), a volume which includes essays by critics, maps and
photographs of the background to Pamuk's masterpiece.
"Every man resembles his times more than he does
his father." Setting Rumi, Sayh Galip, Dante and De Quincey aside,
what Pamuk's novel most closely resembles is Paul Auster's New York Trilogy.
Pamuk shares Auster's intelligence, metaphysical preoccupations and astringent
literary style. He also partakes of Auster's problems. His densely written
book is highly cerebral. It has some affinities with the traditional detective
novel, but reading it is more like watching someone sitting down to solve
a crossword than a murder. Galip and Jelal seem to love literature more
than women. Ruya is woman with a name, but hardly any body. She is a mystery
to Galip and, surely, to most readers. Galip's perceptions of her and
everyone else are consistently vanilla-flavoured.
But while Galip plods, Jelal flies. Jelal's eccentric
and discursive newspaper essays are amazing. Addressing the reader directly,
he writes about feral children living on the pontoons of the Galata Bridge,
about Levantine pederasty, about letter mysticism, about Turkish gangsters,
about the possible homosexuality of Rumi, about the desertion of Istanbul
by parrots. Jelal is a Turkish Autolycus, "a snapper up of unconsidered
trifles". His fantasia on the drying-up of the Bosphorus alone is
worth the price of the book. Would that we could get rid of our current
newspaper columnists and instead have Jelal write his loonily erudite
articles for some British newspaper. Jelal's (or Pamuk's) sentences are
stately and dense, as befits a latter-day Turkish De Quincey. Considered
as a novel, The Black Book is a little disappointing, for it fails to
deliver the conventional satisfactions. It should really be read as an
encyclopaedia of esoterica and as a compendium of medieval and modern
literary tricks. As such, it is quite wonderful.
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