Tag: Elif Safak

  • OPEN LETTER TO ELİF ŞAFAK

    OPEN LETTER TO ELİF ŞAFAK

    OPEN LETTER TO ELİF ŞAFAK

    Ferruh Demirmen
    Turkish Forum, December 19, 2005

    Dear Ms. Şafak:

    I have noticed that you, as a young Turkish academic, have joined the ranks of Taner Akçam et al. You are already a coveted participant in Armenian forums, and my congratulations to you for that distinction. As a novelist-cum-historian-cum-columnist, you write weekly columns in an English-language Turkish newspaper, and that is how I came to know you. If you were not one of a kind in your class, Ms. Şafak, I would not waste my time writing this piece. But you are rather special.

    Apart from your haughtiness and your elitist views on the so-called Armenian genocide, you have frequently carped about Turks — “especially those living in U.S. “— that disagree with you. Below you will find my views on your carping, and a piece of advice on the side. I offer my advice totally gratis.

    You first came to my attention from your article (duly reproduced on one of the Armenian websites) on the discredited Armenian conference that took place in Istanbul in late September. It was the conference where Turks were treated as the accused but denied self-defense — similar to the myriad conferences held or sponsored by the Armenian lobby. The disgracefully one-sided, but impeccably choreographed conference, where almost every invited participant from speaker to listener was an advocate of the alleged Armenian genocide, was ridiculously hailed as a “scientific” or “scholarly” meeting and justified in the furtherance of “democracy” and “freedom of speech.” Not a single historical document was presented during the conference to shore up the genocide claim. But the Armenian lobby loved the conference, just as you did.

    What evidently prompted you to pen your article, Ms. Şafak, was the experience you had with the taxi driver after you had arrived at Istanbul airport from abroad to attend the conference. After striking a conversation of sorts with the driver, and expressing your elitist views on the alleged genocide, you, with a condescending demeanor, tried to educate the driver about the sanctity of “academic freedom” and “democracy.” The taxi driver, obviously not an erudite man, but proud to be a Turk, and having enough common sense to recognize snobbery, and separate deceit from truth, was so incensed with your “enlightened” stance that he refused to accept taxi fare from you. That should have sent a powerful message to you and hurt your pride. But I doubt your pride was bruised in any way. The air of arrogance surrounding you was so thick; you could cut it with a knife. And that probably prevented the message from passing through.

    Just to let you know, Ms. Şafak, I would have wanted to kiss that noble taxi driver on his forehead. Soon followed another article by you in which you declared your open support and admiration for Hrant Dink. Notwithstanding his views on the genocide issue, we had come to know Mr. Dink, the editor of the Armenian weekly “Agos” published in Istanbul, a friend of Turks, a liberated Armenian living in Turkey and valuing Turkish citizenship.

    In October, Mr. Dink was given a six-month suspended jail sentence by the court for insulting Turkishness. Speaking high-mindedly of minority rights in Turkey, you claimed the sentence was discriminatory. But cleverly, you did not disclose what Mr. Dink had written. In the February 13, 2004 issue of Agos, Mr. Dink, in describing the Armenian identity, made reference to “poisoned blood spilled by the Turk,” contrasting it with “clean blood in the noble Armenian vein.” There was an allusion to Kemal Atatürk’s hallmark address to the Turkish youth after the War of Independence, which made his allegory all the more provocative. No matter how one spins it, and Mr. Dink subsequently tried to do that, the allegory was clearly racist and insulting.

    But that did not bother you. Nor did it bother EU, which had the gall to criticize Turkey for not respecting Mr. Dink’s freedom of speech, in total disregard of the fact that in France and Switzerland, mere denial of the alleged Armenian genocide is a crime. Prof. Bernard Lewis, Prof. Yusuf Halacoglu, and the leader of Turkey’s Worker’s Party Doğu Perinçek know it too well. A message in EU’s criticism was that that the freedom of speech is a principle that should be respected or ignored depending on the occasion. The double standard, the duplicity, was nauseating. Since when is racism protected under the “freedom of speech”?

    But Ms. Şafak, you did not merely express solidarity with Mr. Dink. In criticizing the court’s decision, you inveighed: “Hrant, you did not commit any crime. It is those who make you feel like a ‘foreigner’ in your own land that have been committing a crime for centuries.” Committing crime for centuries? And who might those criminals be? The terrible Turks? Or those infamous courts? Hmm! A gem of observation that could be included in the Annals of Slander — if there were ever one. That sure would have been another avenue to give you fame.

    If you really wanted to know an Armenian that was a true friend of Turks, Ms. Şafak, you should read the book titled “I Am Called A Friend of Turks — The Truth Must Be Told — An Autobiography” by Edward Tashji — a man of high integrity and rare courage, free of hatred, born and raised Armenian, married Armenian, lived, prayed and died Armenian — now resting in New Jersey.

    In his book, Tashji, recounting the dark days of World War I in Anatolia as told by his parents, who lived through the madness of it all, debunks convincingly the bogus claims of genocide. Even a die-hard pro-genocide elitist like you would be moved by that book. I assure you.

    In your later articles you complained that many Turks living abroad (“especially those living in the United States”) have been sending you uncomplimentary, even hateful, e-mails (I swear, I was not one of them), one person even calling you “so-called citizen of Turkey” (the label you found particularly offensive). You thought these people are narrow-minded and bigoted, slow to change. You called them “aggressive nationalists.” In contrast, you implied, you are a “critical thinker,” destined to trigger “social transformation” in Turkish society. Such exemplary modesty on your part!

    Acceptance of the genocide claims by Turks, you insinuated in one of your columns, is one of the “transformations” you would like to deliver to the Turkish society — two other “transformations” apparently being removal of the ban on the use of Islamic turban and undoing the Kemalist reforms. Quite a tall order, and Turks better not underestimate you! You even made the baffling observation that “aggressive nationalists” and supporters of President Bush’s foreign policy in Iraq have “something in common.” (How the Bush connection came into the picture is a mystery).

    I will not attempt to make sense of these outlandish claims. But I would earnestly ask you, Ms. Şafak: Considering your stance, what, exactly, do you expect from the Turkish community? Letters of admiration? A bouquet of flowers? Perhaps you would prefer that your readers keep their mouths shut and not react. But honestly, a reader has to be dim-witted or brain-dead not to be provoked by your writings. If affection, admiration, and even acceptance, are what you are seeking, I would assure you that you will not — with some exceptions — find them among Turks. Turks, Ms. Şafak, are tired of being wrongly accused of crimes they did not commit, of tragic episodes they did not instigate, of feckless, ethnic-pandering politicians that try to legislate history, and of dishonest academics that make obscene analogy between the Jewish holocaust and the 1915 events. The last thing that Turks want to hear is someone of their own feeding them the same garbage.

    To be blunt, Ms. Şafak, Turks do not need the likes of you to “transform.” And the reason Turks living abroad (“especially those in U.S.”) do not accept you is because they have been witnessing year-in, year-out the fraud that is being perpetrated in their midst — a fraud that you may be oblivious to, but in reality, are contributing to — on the Armenian issue. Unlike what you think, Ms. Şafak, those Turks, by and large, are neither bigoted nor narrow-minded, and many are remarkably progressive and far-sighted. Some of them may even shame you to narrow-mindedness. You should also realize that those “aggressive conservatives” have as much right to express their views — including admonishing you — as you do, expressing your own. You are not beyond reproach. You should stop moaning and bemoaning, and get on with your life.

    A columnist should be prepared for criticism from those who disagree. It is part of the territory of being a writer. If you cannot take the heat, you should quit. You should be grateful that you are not receiving threats of violence from your detractors — something the Armenian hoodlums did not hesitate doing against e.g., Prof. Stanford Shaw, Prof. Turkkaya Ataöv, Judge Sam Weems. You should also be grateful that, as you have noted, you have been receiving conciliatory, complimentary messages, “mostly from Armenians,” that give you peace of mind. I hope such messages will continue. No one with sane mind would oppose reconciliation. But interestingly, Ms. Şafak, all your Armenian admirers spoke of “the Armenian genocide” as a fact. You are certainly in good company with them.

    Finally, Ms. Şafak, since you so eager to enlighten your readers on the Armenian issue, I had hoped that by now you would have written an op-ed to inform your readers of a special conference you attended last month. The conference was held at the University of California in Los Angeles (UCLA) on November 6, and was organized by Prof. Richard Hovannisian, a renown anti-Turk who holds the Armenian Educational Foundation Chair in Modern Armenian History at UCLA. The topic was, not surprisingly, “Armenian genocide.”

    The speakers were all Turks: Drs. Taner Akçam, Fatma Müge Göçek, and you. We do not quite know what the esteemed thinkers like yourself said at the conference, but the 800-strong Armenian audience loved what they heard and repeatedly interrupted the speakers to give a big applause. Of course, and as usual, there were no opposing views. And no doubt, acts of the fifth-column Armenian gangs during those turbulent times, if they were ever mentioned at all, were reflected or perceived as valiant acts of loyal, upstanding citizenry.

    At the end of the conference Prof. Hovannisian told the audience that the issues of reparations and territorial demands from Turkey would be taken up in a future conference. How fitting! No doubt you and your Turkish colleagues at the conference will not want to miss that meeting. Was this a “scientific” or “scholarly” conference, Ms. Şafak? Perhaps you would opine in one of your future columns. And while at it, Ms. Şafak, could you comment on rumors that the speakers were handsomely compensated for their efforts?

    Your admirer,
    Ferruh Demirmen

    Holdwater’s Commentary
    tallarmeniantale.com/taxi-driver.htm

    Holdwater: What a fantastic piece; bravo to Mr. Demirmen. In my opinion, rumors of compensation belong in the same category as rumors of an Armenian genocide; only those matters supported by solid evidence deserve respect, as anyone can offer speculation. Space for conferences from universities is usually granted for free, when the conference directors belong to the university. Someone has to cough up the money for the speakers’ travel expenses, but other than that, the speakers in these conferences don’t need the payola. They gladly participate, since their rewards materialize in other ways; the clout and fame that keep getting reinforced from such engagements can lead to or sustain book deals and university positions, the latter sometimes supported by Armenian foundations, as in the case of Taner Akcam. In addition, as a minor correction, the final title of Edward Tashji’s autobiography is “Armenian Allegations — The Truth Must be Told.”

  • Retweeting literature: How The London Book Fair was a Twitter success

    Retweeting literature: How The London Book Fair was a Twitter success

    by British Council Turkey

    As The London Book Fair, one of the biggest annual global publishing events, came to a close last week, Twitter turned out to be the greatest force taking the event to a new level of engagement and intimacy, to an audience that was far above its reach.

     

    “The internet brought freedom from authority of the literary establishment. More importantly it brought new forms of writing.” These words by accomplished writer Murat Gülsoy were uttered in a panel on the Future of Writing in last week’s global publishing event, theLondon Book Fair. They were also instantly shared with the world through a new form of writing, the 140-character tweet. One of the tweets from @BCLiterature, the Twitter account of British Council’s Literature team, included Gülsoy’s words minutes after they were said in the panel. The tweet ended with the writer’s name in a now familiar format,@MuratGulsoy. A new form of writing, indeed.

    The London Book Fair is a highly anticipated annual event for publishers, writers, and those who have an interest in the future of books. The fair, attracting around 25 thousand visitors each year, selects a country to become the market focus for that year. This year, it wasTurkey who took centre stage in last week’s London Book Fair, with a collaboration with the British Council for the sixth time. Some of the best names in contemporary Turkish writing and publishing were in the UK, giving UK audiences a rare opportunity to meet and interact with Turkish writers. While 20 writers from Turkey took part in discussions with UK writers, publishers, academics, cultural commentators and readers between 15 – 17 April, the official dates for the fair, the cultural programme for market focus will continue throughout this month.

    This year’s London Book Fair was one that made effective use of social media, especially the micro-blogging platform Twitter, that is popular both in Turkey and in the UK. Announcements were made, events were covered live, pictures were shared minutes after they were taken. Writers, publishers and aficionados of literature sent excited tweets throughout the course of The London Book Fair. It was an event that brought global a brand new meaning with the help of Twitter enthusiasts.

     

    Reaching millions through tweets and retweets

    Hashtags like #LBF13 and #LBFTurkey were used to draw Twitter followers interested in this global publishing event. “Müge Iplikci talks about feeling in the moment as a writer, in the present, but also a belatedness, writing out of Istanbul #LBFturkey,” wrote one tweet, while the Turkish writer continued her speech in the One Night in Istanbul panel.

    It was a thorough coverage of The London Book Fair on Twitter, one that could hardly have been done with traditional media. Social media savvy bookworms followed the event basically through four Twitter accounts, as they tweeted, retweeted and reached millions as they themselves were retweeted. @LondonBookFair was the official account of the fair, sending around 100 tweets each day to more than 21 thousand followers. Three accounts affiliated with the British Council shared tweets to different sets of audience.@BritishCouncil, @BCLiterature and @trBritish made sure that all the details of the events throughout the London Book Fair were shared.

    British Council Turkey’s Twitter account @trBritish worked busily as a hub both in Turkish and English, sending original tweets, and making sure that tweets from the other three accounts, as well those from the writers, publishers and commentators , were retweeted to the mostly Turkish followers. @trBritish was the Twitter account that was taken as a solid source for The London Book Fair, with major literary accounts like Vatan Kitap and Kitap Dünyası retweeting its tweets.

     

     

    Turkish writers as avid tweeters

    Turkish writers were also busy sending their own tweets throughout The London Book Fair, some about the events they were participating in, others more leisurely tweets on their UK visit. While the bestselling crime novelist Ahmet Ümit retweeted British Council Turkey’s tweets capturing his speech (“Writing a bestselling novel doesn’t show that you’re a successful writer. There’s only one criteria, and it’s time!”), he also made sure that he sent tweets about his trips to the Natural History Museumthe Royal Albert Hall, as well as his excitement about talking about detective novels in Edinburgh later in the week, “where Sherlock Holmes scribe Arthur Conan Doyle was born.”

    Acclaimed Turkish writer Ece Temelkuran was another avid tweeter, making sure that she thanked everyone for “the marvellous Book Fair” through mentioning their Twitter accounts:@LondonBookFair, @BritishCouncil, @trBritish, @englishpen, @Foyles, and@arcolatheatre. The internationally acclaimed Turkish writer Elif Shafak also sent out tweets and retweets to her followers, with the occasional picture added to her tweets. The picture of the London Book Fair in its last day was shared with the words, “As the fair comes to an end. @LondonBookFair Here’s Turkey with filled panels, important subjects, its writers, poets and academics…”

    “Last event of #LBF13 before handing over to S Korea: Mario Levi in conversation with Amanda Hopkinson @englishpen Literary Cafe #LBFTurkey” announced one tweet the end of The London Book Fair. Turkish writer Mario Levi’s words later, as tweeted by @BCLiterature, were a welcome contradiction to the new form of communication that is social media. “I still write by hand, with fountain pen and ink – it is important to feel the words.”

     

    Tags: ahmet ümit, british council, british council turkey, ece temelkuran, elif şafak, LBF, literature, mario levi, market focus, murat gülsoy, social media, The London Book Fair, twitter

    Category: Arts

    Posted on April 22, 2013 by British Council Turkey

    LBF13_

  • Fear is a very dangerous thing

    Fear is a very dangerous thing

    Elif Shafak: ‘Fear is a very dangerous thing’

    The voice of Turkish literature – tells Joy Lo Dico why Istanbul needs to make another great leap

    JOY LO DICO
    Elif-Shafak-sutcliffe

    When I invited Elif Shafak to lunch at Julie’s, a smart London restaurant tucked between the Victorian town houses of Holland Park, I hadn’t considered the decor. Carved wooden panels, rugs and leather stools: it looked like someone had made a quick raid on the Ottoman Empire to furnish it. Would Shafak, who is from Istanbul, roll her eyes at the cliché of inviting her to a faux oriental den? She looks around. “How lovely,” she says, a little coolly.

    Dressed head to toe in black (she claims that this is the only colour in her wardrobe) and with the looks of a French film star, Shafak is an easy choice to be the face for the London Book Fair, the special focus of which this year is Turkish literature. Her 2006 novel The Bastard of Istanbul was long-listed for the Orange Prize. She followed it with a retelling of the life of the 13th-century poet Rumi folded into the life of a bored Jewish-American housewife, in The Forty Rules of Love. And last year she published Honour, the story of an “honour” killing by a Turkish Kurdish family living between their home country and Dalston.

    That diversity comes from her own internationalism. Born in Strasbourg, she’s lived across Europe and America and now divides her time between Istanbul, where her husband is editor-in-chief of a newspaper, and London.

    “It’s like a compass,” she explains. “One leg of the drawing compass is fixed in one spot. For me that is Istanbul. The other leg draws a huge, wide circle around this one and I see myself as global soul, as a world citizen.”

    Shafak’s writing is not high literature in the Nobel Prize-winning Orhan Pamuk vein: the prose is open, the pages turn easily, plots sometimes twist too conveniently and The Forty Rules of Love‘s spirituality brings to mind Paulo Coelho. But Shafak has big ideas – about women’s rights, identity, freedom of expression – that really challenge readers, and her novels work hard at bringing out unheard voices.

    It’s reflected in her readership. The queues at her book signings, Shafak notes proudly, are made up of “people who normally wouldn’t break bread together: liberals, leftists, secularists, Sufis, conservatives; girls with headscarves but also women with mini skirts”.

    As we pick over the skeletons of our grilled sardines, it occurs to me that Shafak makes waves with wide-selling literature – so popular that her books are pirated in Turkey – but that the forms and ideas are not so radical to Britons – an exception perhaps is her exploration of “honour” killings. Her real strength lies in her eloquence on politics and culture, she writes columns on both for the newspaper Haberturk.

    It is 90 years since Kemal Ataturk declared Turkey a republic, and this past decade has seen it walking tall despite “being left in the waiting room”, as Shafak says, by the EU. The steady government of Recep Tayyip Erdogan, economic growth, a grown-up regional policy and, as of last month, a ceasefire with the PKK (the Kurdish nationalist movement fighting for independence for the past 30 years), has returned Turkey as a significant player to the world stage.

    Shafak welcomes reconciliation with the Kurds but is already thinking one step ahead: about changing the nature of modern Turkey. “What we need is a new constitution which is more embracing, not only of Turks and Kurds but also the minorities in Turkey who are not feeling comfortable: Armenians, Jews, Azeris, gypsies, and others,” she suggests, seeing this as a time when Turkey could reconstruct its whole self-image. “Our 600-year-old empire was multi-ethnic, multi-lingual, multi-religious, amazingly cosmopolitan. In 1923, the nation state was established and, throughout the republican era, the main discourse was that we are a society of undifferentiated individuals. No classes, no ethnicities. Seeing difference as the source of danger and looking for enemies within created a lot of fear in Turkey, and fear is a very dangerous thing because it produces authoritarian responses. I’m not saying Ataturk’s Turkey should be abandoned: I’m saying we need to take a step forward and have a far more egalitarian and democratic society. What I find frightening is top-down uniformity.”

    The blooming of identities she talks of – she includes homosexuals and transsexuals – echoes the voices in her books. But Shafak, remembering how quickly her comments have been twisted in parts of the Turkish media, chooses her words carefully. In 2006, after writing about the Armenian genocide, an ultra-nationalist group had her put on trial under an archaic law for “insulting Turkishness”.

    The Turkish Ministry of Justice now intervenes to prevent such trials but the law remains. Shafak drives it home with a British analogy. “The other day I was thinking, when Hilary Mantel was ‘criticising’ Kate Middleton, that there was a discussion in the UK media,” she says. “Everyone was asking, ‘Is she right or wrong?’ But as a Turkish writer, my main interest was not who was right or wrong but that this debate can be heard freely.”

    We move on to the mint tea and Shafak points out that Britain and Turkey, both of which she calls home, have taken different routes out of empire. London remains a global crossroads but Istanbul risks forgetting the way porous boundaries helped it thrive. It is the subject of her next novel, which will be set in the 16th century.

    Shafak will be taking part in a series of seminars and talks at the London Book Fair next Tuesday, along with other big hitters in the Turkish literary scene, including Perihan Magden, Ayse Kulin and Ahmet Umit. Shafak knows how to pitch to a bigger audience than just those who want to dabble in the Orient: “The conversations we are having about identity, amnesia, past and future don’t concern solely the society in Turkey but they resonate through the Muslim world, and the world in general.”

    Honour by Elif Shafak

    Penguin, £7.99

    ‘It was all because women were made of the lightest cambric, Naze continued, whereas men were cut of thick, dark fabric. That is how God had tailored the two: one superior to the other. As to why He had done that, it wasn’t up to human beings to question … ”

    The Market Focus Cultural Programme at The London Book Fair is curated by the British Council and begins tomorrow. For more information visit: literature.britishcouncil.org

  • London Book Fair: Elif Shafak on Turkey’s progress

    London Book Fair: Elif Shafak on Turkey’s progress

    London Book Fair: Elif Shafak on Turkey’s progress

    • Elif Shafak
    • The Guardian
    • Photograph: Murdo MacLeod for the Guardian

    As a Turkish woman writer in England there are two questions about my country that I hear

    With Turkey the focus of this year’s London Book Fair, Elif Shafak says her country is starting to find its voice

    often: are women equal to men and are words free? Two different subjects that receive the same answer: “Yes and no, concurrently.”

     Elif Shafak says Turkey has an amazing ability to reinvent itself in a short period of time.

    Elif Shafak says Turkey has an amazing ability to reinvent itself in a short period of time.

    Turkey is a country of mesmerising contrasts, colours and conflicts. It’s a running joke for us to liken our progress and modernity to the Mehter – the Ottoman military band that once inspired western classical composers, such as Mozart. The band’s march consisted of two steps forwards, one step backwards. Thus we proceed in Turkey when it comes to basic freedoms and human rights.

    The country is going through a historical transformation. The conflict with the Kurdish separatists, which killed more than 40,000 people and traumatised many more, is being resolved. Until recently, this would have been a dream. Prime Minister Recep Tayyib Erdogan and the AK Party have taken considerable political risks to authorise negotiations with the jailed Kurdish leader Abduallah Öcalan. They have been aided by the fact that, increasingly, more people on both sides are tired of violence and antagonism.

    For way too long, Turkish ultra-nationalism and Kurdish ultra-nationalism have fed off each other, keeping the country in a vicious circle and spreading fear, bigotry and xenophobia. Turkish official ideology has systematically denied the existence of Kurds and the Kurdish language. That is no longer the case. Books, magazines, publications on “The Kurdish Question” fill the shelves. Whereas in the past it was unthinkable to question the army as an institution, that, too, has changed. The army has been confined to military and strategic matters, as it should be in any true democracy.

    Nonetheless, other things are slow to change. Meeting with PEN international delegation president, Abdullah Gül, he expressed concerns about the obstacles to freedom of speech – the trials, and in some cases the incarceration, of writers, journalists and publishers. “These developments sadden me,” he said. Article 301 of the Turkish penal code, which punishes anyone who “insults Turkishness” with up to three years in prison, has been noticeably restricted in practice, though not abolished. It is not as easy as it used to be to press charges against a writer or journalist for their words since it now requires the approval of the minister of justice. However, the law hovers above our heads like the sword of Damocles. Some citizens feel “insulted” at the slightest critical remark about the state, government or our ancestors. Prosecutors take their applications seriously, and the vagueness of the law only deepens the problem.

    A similar broadness can be observed in the anti‑terror laws. The distinction between those who resort to terrorism and those whose only “sin” is to speak their minds is not fully recognised. Ragip Zarakolu, the founder of a publishing house famed for supporting minority issues and a Nobel peace prize nominee, spent six months in prison last year. Social media is also fraught with danger. The composer and pianist Fazil Say appeared in court on charges of blasphemy and insulting religious values because of a tweet he sent.

    Obscenity trials are another hurdle for writers and artists. The Turkish publication of Chuck Palahniuk’s novel Snuff – rendered Death Porn in Turkish – saw both its translator and publisher in court. The publication of a translation of The Soft Machine by William Burroughs was accused of obscenity, but the trial was postponed.

    Just recently a complaint has been filed against two intellectuals – Robert Koptas, the editor of the Armenian newspaper Agos, whose previous editor Hrant Dink was assassinated, and Ümit Kivanç, leftist-liberal journalist – because one citizen complained that the words they uttered on TV were “insulting”, adding “clearly they must be Armenians”.

    There is a growing concern that the press is not as diverse as it used to be and that alternative voices are heard less and less. Self-censorship is a subject we rarely discuss, although clearly we have to: last month Hasan Cemal, a veteran journalist and critical thinker, left his newspaper, Milliyet.

    Even if the majority of the cases do end in acquittal, the judicial process is too lengthy. Writers, journalists, translators and publishers are no strangers to prosecutors’ offices. And then they have to suffer attacks from extremist newspapers. One major hurdle is the old laws, many of which date back to the 1980 military coup d’etat. We urgently need a new, egalitarian, pluralistic, and more democratic constitution. Only this can help Turkey to move up in the World Press Freedom Index where it is ranked 154th out of 179 countries.

    Yet at the same time countless books and magazines are published on subjects that until recently were taboo. Minority rights, the army, domestic violence, homophobia – publications and discussions follow one another. Turkey has an amazing ability to reinvent itself in a surprisingly short time. Of one thing we can be certain: young and dynamic, perched delicately on the threshold of east and west, Turkey’s civil society is anything but silent.

    • Turkey is the market focus of this year’s London Book Fair, 15-17 April, Earls Court, London SW5.

    via London Book Fair: Elif Shafak on Turkey’s progress | Books | The Guardian.

  • The Bastard of Istanbul

    The Bastard of Istanbul

    Editor’s Note: This is the second installment of our discussion of March’s Book Club selection, Elif Shafak’s The Bastard of Istanbul.

    If you’re not yet a book club member and would like to be, it’s not too late to jump on the bandwagon. Simply use the comments section below to express interest and join us on our next adventure.

    And now, Leah Kaminsky’s thoughts on the middle section of The Bastard of Istanbul. In your comments, feel free to respond to the questions Leah poses, or raise new talking points and questions to toss around. And don’t forget to tick the “Notify me of followup comments via e-mail” box below to stay engaged with the conversation. DD

    98920 198×300 The Bastard of Istanbul, Vol 2In our last round, there were more characters and themes to discuss than I knew what to do with. We circle back to many of these issues in Chapters 7 – 12.

    The Tools of Narrative, Past vs. the Present

    Throughout these chapters, issues of narrative are paramount – not just the act of storytelling but the how of storytelling. Each character seems intent on constructing her own story, one that exists outside of the cultural or familial norm. Auntie Banu relies on her djinn and coffee grounds. Auntie Feride has lost the plot entirely. When she was in her prime, Petite-Ma was punished for not relating to either the concubine or the professional comrade narratives about femininity. Asya relies on Nihilist constructs, shedding all trappings of her family and the past. Armanoush goes the opposite route, seeking her own story in the history of her culture.

    What do these different narrative paths say about the characters who rely on them? Are Armanoush and Asya’s approaches indicative of the cultures they represent – the Armenians vs. the Turks? How do these paths further conflict with the intellectuals during the violent scene at Café Kundera?

    Another compelling narrative choice: the story of Havhannes Stamboulian, who is himself writing a folk tale to reframe history.

    Why do you think Shafak chose to write this story within a story within a story? In choosing this narrative technique, how is this story both anchored to the past and entirely applicable to the present? What is the significance of the pomegranate both here and throughout the book?

    Ignorance Vs. Knowledge

    These different narrative approaches are closely tied to another big issue: ignorance versus knowledge. This is a very purposeful decision on Shafak’s part, given that to this day the Turkish government still does not acknowledge the Armenian Genocide. However, this illusion can’t be maintained when Armanoush tells the Kazancis the story of her ancestors. Says Auntie Banu later on when she is on her own:

    “‘Allah…Either grant me the bliss of the ignorant or give me the strength to bear the knowledge’” (Pg. 193).

    Asya reacts a little differently, fitting the genocide neatly into her negative views of the world. Yes, this happened; life is suffering. We can only enjoy the now.

    Is Asya’s worldview a form of willful ignorance, too? What do you think of these two very different paths and their effects on the way these characters operate in the world at large? How will this issue come to a head as the stakes raise?

    Conceptions of Womanhood

    As in the last section, conceptions of womanhood are very important here, from Petite-Ma up to Asya. Zeliha has a particularly poignant moment where she wishes she could tell Asya she should be thankful for her homely looks as it will keep her well-liked by women and safe from men. This, coming from a woman who has either been abandoned by men or has willingly eschewed them, whose version of womanhood is a disgrace to her family. And yet, none of the other women live with husbands, and few fit any culturally normative version of womanhood.

    In what ways have the women in this book suffered from their non-normative (Zeliha, Asya, etc.) or normative (Granny Gulsum) choices? What does it say about Zeliha’s vulnerabilities, experiences and views about the ways of the world that she wishes to shield her daughter from the way it works?

    Any other thoughts? There’s so much to cover here and we could have gone in a million different directions. Feel free to propose any others!

    Leah Kaminsky 150×150 The Bastard of Istanbul, Vol 2Leah Kaminsky is a short story and freelance writer originally from Ithaca, NY. She received her MFA in Fiction Writing from the University of Washington in 2009. She has placed three times in Glimmer Train top 25 lists and was nominated for inclusion in Best New American Voices, 2008. Her work has appeared on the Rumpus, Pindeldyboz, The Yellow Ham and her mother’s fridge right next to that picture of bath time circa 1987. She is a big fan and producer of short-shorts and comics, which she posts semi-regularly on her website, leahkaminsky.wordpress.com. She is in the midst of launching Just Start Applications, a business, college and graduate school consultancy, located in Texas and Virginia and operating mostly online.

    via The Bastard of Istanbul, Vol 2 « « Write better, right now │ writing center and writers service in Austin, Texas │ WriteByNight, LLC Write better, right now │ writing center and writers service in Austin, Texas │ WriteByNight, LLC.

  • ‘In Turkey, men write and women read. I want to see this change’

    ‘In Turkey, men write and women read. I want to see this change’

    Elif Shafak: ‘In Turkey, men write and women read. I want to see this change’

    The bestselling Turkish writer on her wildly mixed readership, escaping pigeonholes, and why she writes all her novels twice

    Interview by William Skidelsky
    The Observer

    Elif Shafak 008

    Elif Shafak: ‘Art and literature should help us to get out of our mental cocoons.’ Photograph: Murdo Macleod

    Born in 1971, Elif Shafak is the author of eight novels and is Turkey’s most widely read woman writer. Her work has been translated into 30 languages and she was awarded the honorary distinction of Chevalier of the Order of Arts and Letters. She divides her time between Istanbul and London. Her latest novel is Honour.

    Your new novel describes an honour killing in a half-Turkish half-Kurdish immigrant family in Britain. What drew you to this subject?

    I have always been interested in families, probably because I did not grow up in one. I was raised by a single, working, feminist mother. That was a bit unusual in 1970s Turkey. Families intrigue me. In this novel, I wanted to explore how we hurt the people we love most. I focused on mother-son relationships, on how mothers raise their sons as the sultans in the house and how this ruins people’s happiness in the long run.

    What was the hardest thing to get right?

    In my previous novels, there have been strong-headed, colourful women, of all backgrounds – Muslim, Christian, Jewish. This time, there is a male character at the heart of the story and not a pleasant one. Iskender is neither a hero nor an antihero. He is a bully, someone who breaks hearts. It was important to put myself in his shoes, to see the world the way he sees it, without judging him from above. That was an emotional challenge.

    The novel was the bestseller in Turkey for six weeks. Clearly, its subject matter struck a nerve there…

    It created a lot of discussion. Turkey is a complex country. Most readers are women, of all generations, and they are passionate about books. However, the written culture is mostly patriarchal. In general, men write, women read. I would like to see this pattern changing. More women should write novels, poems, plays, and hopefully more men will read fiction.

    What, given this imbalance, enabled you to break through?

    Honour is my eighth novel and my 11th book in Turkey. Over the years, with every book published my readership has expanded. My readers are surprisingly mixed. I have conservative readers, for instance, women with headscarves, but also many liberal, leftist, feminist, nihilist, environmentalist and secularist readers. Next to those are mystics, agnostics, Kurds, Turks, Alevis, Sunnis, gays, housewives and businesswomen… So people who wouldn’t normally talk to one another in Turkey read the same novels. This makes me happy. Art and literature should help us to get out of our mental cocoons.

    As a Turkish writer with a profile in non-Muslim countries, what pressures do you feel?

    When you are a “woman writer from a Muslim background” there is an expectation that you should be writing about your identity, about women in Muslim societies. A function is attributed to fiction from the non-western world. Your work should be informative, representative. A white, male, middle-class American writer can experiment with form and choose any subject he wants, but a woman writer from Algeria or Afghanistan should produce stories that fit into a certain cultural box.

    Did you write Honour in Turkish and then translate it yourself?

    For the last nine years, I have been writing in both English and Turkish. I write my novels in English first, then they are translated into Turkish by professional translators. Then I take their translation and rewrite. So basically I write the same novel twice. There are things I find easier to say in Turkish and others easier in English. If I write about sorrow and longing, it is easier in Turkish. If I write about humour, irony, satire, it is easier in English.

    You’ve spoken of being opposed to the injunction “write what you know”…

    I always start by saying to my creative writing students: “Do not feel obliged to write what you know!” You can do that, certainly. But that’s not what literature is all about. Write what you feel in your heart.

    You’ve also championed the Sufi tradition, in particular the poet Rumi. Is there much understanding or even awareness of this tradition in the west?

    Sadly, many don’t know anything about this rich and peaceful tradition. People in the Middle East are not necessarily more knowledgeable either. It intrigues me to see the amazing similarities among the mystical traditions of all monotheistic religions because the quest is the same. It is universal, all-embracing. It is an inner journey based on empathy and a desire to transcend the limits of the self. In this sense, Rumi’s Sufi philosophy has lots in common with literature.

    Elif Shafak will speak on identity, immigration and multiculturalism at the Bristol Festival of Ideas, in association with the Observer, on 17 May

    via Elif Shafak: ‘In Turkey, men write and women read. I want to see this change’ | Books | The Observer.