I checked out an e-book of My Name Is Red from the public library and finished it in September, I believe. The author Orhan Pamuk received the Nobel Prize in literature in 2006. Coincidentally, shortly after I finished it, I met a Turkish mathematician at the Heidelberg Laureate Forum, and we talked about the book. She says it is the last one of his books that she really likes. The story is a murder mystery set in the world of miniaturists in 16th century Turkey.
I enjoyed the book but found it a little hard to understand at times, probably because I don’t know that much about Turkish history or Islam as it was practiced in the 16th century. There was a chronology at the end of the book that would have been useful to consult as I was reading, but because I was reading an e-book, I didn’t know about it until the end.
In the book, each chapter is narrated by one of the characters, sometimes a human, but other times a figure from a painting or other nontraditional character. At first, I found that construction gimmicky, but I thought Pamuk stayed committed to making it into an important, not fluffy, part of the story. I like stories that put me into a completely foreign world and really make me care about people whose lives are very different from mine. This book does that with the world of miniaturists. I have never been interested in painting, although I love looking at art, but the book gave some really interesting perspectives on how they saw their craft as reflecting or reflected in their lives.
The English translation of My Name Is Red came out in early September 2001, so there are reviews posted just before and just after 9/11. It’s interesting to see how both kinds of reviews address the role of Islamic fundamentalism in the book.
The murder mystery was the framework for the book, but I found myself much less interested in getting to the bottom of it than seeing the other aspects of the plot unfold–the love affair and marriage of Black and Shekure, the blinding of Osman. I don’t even remember who the murderer was now, and I don’t think it matters.
It took me a while to make it through My Name Is Red, but I do hope to read more by Pamuk eventually.
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