The Bastard of Istanbul

I read about 94 pages, and while it was okay, I didn't find myself caring if I found out how it all unfolded. Decided to apply the nancy pearl rule of stopping if not enjoying after 50 pages. ( )

Somewhat interesting story. I enjoyed the insight into the culture and the description of the place more.

I'm oddly fascinated by Middle Eastern literature because in a way, I find myself to be a blend of Asya and Armanoush -- my past is a fleeting mystery and yet I feel bound to know and honour what little I know of my hertiage. Except that... I wasn't there, I don't know how to take grasp of it and I can't understand it.

What I loved about the book was that there just seemed to be so much dichotomy that it screamed to me. Between one searching for answers for her heritage but doesn't really seem to know what it is to be Armenian to another who doesn't embrace their heritage because it's something that has been lost to them -- or never really cared in the first place.

And yet while you try to disentangle the assumptions that each person has in the book, you find that their families are so very intertwined that the magical is used to explain how this all occurred.

So at the end, one who fights to hold on to her heritage while another claims to deny the past, you find issue and yet admirably in both. You can't escape the past and you can't escape the heritage that has become you. ( )

Fascinating story of the intersection of the lives of a Turkish family with that of an American-Armenian girl, who comes to Istanbul looking for her family's past. Interesting in the way it shows how a topic that has been unmentionable in Turkey -- the fact that a massive wrong really was done to the Armenian community -- is starting to come out into the open. Only starting to: the author found herself in trouble for "anti Turkish speech". As a novel, this is pretty good, if a bit discursive. Also, why do there have to be so many wildly eccentric characters? Still, well worth reading, for enjoyment as well as instruction ( )

Drawn to the book by an NPR review of a more recent work by the author, I enjoyed it enough to finish -- but not enough to recommend it to others. With respect for the author's Turkish roots -- I would be happy to be a student in one of her college classes -- I found the English translation to be wooden and prosaic and the plot very predictable. For all the attention she paid to the main characters, I never felt the author really helped me to "know" them. Also, Shafak's style was terribly scattered and unfocused. She couldn't decide on a consistent tone. Despite all that, since I didn't know much about the Turks' genocide of the Armenians I was glad to read the book for that reason alone. ( )