cactus i.v.

“Red” Should Be Read

By BEN SZMANDA

I’ve talked about Orhan Pamuk here before, and I always kind of dread going over one of his books; they are so dense and intricate that it is very hard to describe it properly. There is no way, for example, that I could boil down what I think is happening his work The Black Book to a few pages. I stand a slightly better chance with My Name is Red,, maybe. We’ll see what happens.

Like the Black Book, My Name is Red uses a mystery formulae as the frame for its literary acrobatics. One thing I enjoy about both books is that Pamuk doesn’t neglect this formulae in the slightest: In fact, he crafts a very carefully written thriller. In the case of My Name is Red, the mystery is the murder of a medieval Turkish miniaturist, who was killed in order to prevent him from exposing a secret illustrated book commissioned by the Ottoman Sultan. The murder victim, called Elegant Effendi, claimed that the last picture contained hidden blasphemies that contradicted Islamic law. Eventually this murder leads to the brutal killing of the man commissioned to create the work itself, one Enishte Effendi.

The work was done in secret, and it was intended to be presented as a gift to the Venetian Doge. The sultan wanted the book to be a show of Turkish cultural power, and he wanted it to display the talents of his painters, not only as they employ the traditional craft, but as they use the new European style. This is in part where the charge of blasphemy comes from, and it is this challenge to Ottoman culture that provides the spring board for some of Pamuk’s loftier themes. And lofty is a good word to use here: Among other things, Pamuk is talking about the cultural clash between the Turks and the Europeans, the various philosophies of art, several varieties of Islamic mysticism, the after life, the history of painting in the Islamic world, and , oh yeah, the nature of love. Not to mention an ongoing debate on the health and intellectual benefits of coffee.

If the incredible profusion of themes were not enough, consider the style Pamuk employs to tell the story: Every chapter is spoken in first person, by a different character. Often times the chapter breaks in the midst of a scene, and we get the perspective of another one of that scenes actors. Remember that this is a murder mystery, and keep in mind that even though Pamuk lets us hear them murderer describe his crimes in his own words, we still have no idea who the killer is until the end. Really, the ambition alone is impressive; the fact that he pulled it off so well is mind blowing.

That isn’t to say that My Name is Red is without flaws. Some of the characters are decidedly tiresome to listen to, and yes, you get the sense that that is intentional, that these characters are so self involved that they aren’t interesting to outsiders, but that doesn’t make it any easier to read through those chapters. Still, these chapters are few and far between, and even when you are slogging through them, Pamuk leaves the speaker open to unintentional humor and some rather profound insights of its own.

It isn’t surprising to see Pamuk’s name mentioned next to the great Jorge Luis Borges. I have a problem doing so, but that is hardly an insult to Pamuk: Borges is easily one of the twentieth century’s greatest writers.. Still, there are some clear similarities in their work. Both Pamuk and Borges possess a frightening erudition, and while they seem almost other worldly in their writing because of it, both also have a fundamental decency and compassion to them that is hard not to love.

My Name is Red is a worthy entry in Pamuk’s catalogue, which pretty much means that it needs to be read.

This entry was posted on Saturday, June 7th, 2008 at 12:01 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

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“Red” Should Be Read