My Name Is Red

"I am nothing but a corpse now, a body at the bottom of a well." In the very first line of My Name is Red Pamuk relates the death and troubled soul of one of the Sultan's most skilled miniaturists, Elegant Effendi And so, begins the reader's journey into the secretive and often abusive world of miniaturist artists working in Istanbul in the 16th century. It is at a time in history when the long sought after city is at a crossroads. Geographically as well as artistically, Turkey is on the edge of Asia and Europe. A country trying to hold on to its Mongol influenced artistry while the introduction of Frank and Venetian styles are beginning to influence some of the artists. Master miniaturist, Osman relates the difference, "Meaning show more precedes form in the world of art. As we begin to paint in imitation of the Frankish and Venetian masters...the domain of meaning ends and the domain of form begins." Oh, for the introduction of perspective, shadows and the horizon line! Until this time figures were drawn with no relation to space, nor time. How this will change art that has always been depicted as seen through the eyes of Allah, from above, and not from a human's street level perspective, to do so is considered blasphemy. Yet, how enticing to see portraiture where none had existed before. Influences so difficult for some to resist and one is trying to halt. The world of Elegant's fellow miniaturists is especially at risk and from this select lot one of them will kill to retain the past.
Just as if the reader were Istanbul, Pamuk keeps the reader on the edge till the very end and takes him through the city's dark and deserted streets to places one may not have known existed. It is a journey of murder, incredible artistry, mystery and love. Each chapter is written as if spoken directly to the reader. You are a part of the scene, you are an observer who knows what is in the hearts of each character. A touch of magical realism comes forth as artists renderings talk to you and relate their story. My Name is Red is truly an incredible piece of historical fiction that proved to be informative as well as entertaining. It's pages contained everything I look for in a great novel. show less

“Now then, draw Death for me,” the old man said.
“I cannot draw a picture of Death without ever, not once in my entire life, having seen a picture of Death,” said the miraculously sure-handed miniaturist, who would shortly, in fact, end up doing the drawing.
“You do not always need to have seen an illustration of something in order to depict that thing,” objected the refined and enthusiastic old man.
“Yes, perhaps not,” said the master illustrator. “Yet, if the picture is to be perfect, the way the masters of old would’ve made it, it ought to be drawn at least a thousand times before I attempt it. No matter how masterful a miniaturist might be, when he paints an object for the first time, he’ll render it as an show more apprentice would, and I could never do that. I cannot put my mastery aside while illustrating Death; this would be equivalent to dying myself.”
“Such a death might put you in touch with the subject matter,” quipped the old man.
“It’s not experience of subject matter that makes us masters, it’s never having experienced it that makes us masters.”
“Such mastery ought to be acquainted with Death then.”

A tale of art, religion and murder, set in later 16th century Istanbul, which has been hanging about unread on my shelf for several years. For some reason I though it would be heavy going, and I only read it this month because I am trying to work my way through the books that I have owned for longest, but it turned out to be an intricate and beautifully written mystery story.

One of the master miniaturists working on a secret project for the Sultan, goes missing and is later found dead. The story of the murder investigation is told from multiple points of view, including some of the drawings made by the miniaturist and his colleagues, but the chapter headings make it clear who is talking so it never becomes confusing. The murderer is one of the narrators, pretending to be innocent of the crime and trying to throw suspicion onto his colleague, but he also narrates chapters as 'the murderer' and in these chapters he explains events and tries to justify his crime, and tries not to leave any clues to his identity. show less

Orhan Pamuk was not when he wrote My Name Is Red a Noble Prize winner but this creative ingenuous work certainly helped him on the way. This novel set in the late 16th and early 17th centuries of the Ottoman Empire has a large cast of human characters directly addressing us, its readers, and has a corpse, a dog, a tree, a gold coin, death, a horse, Satan, and the color Red also getting their chapters in order to talk to us. There is murder and intrigue amongst the Sultan's miniaturists that involves a deadly argument over the Frankish, European/Venetian, way of viewing art versus the Islamic traditions. The understanding of all those speaking to us and understanding what is involved in this argument of those times gives insight to what show more a modern day Turkish novelist faces.

Quotes: (page 3, I Am A Corpse) “Before my birth there was infinite time, and after my death, inexhaustible time. I never thought of it before: I'd been living luminously between two eternities of darkness.
I was happy; I know now that I'd been happy. I made the best illuminations in Our Sultan's workshop; no one could rival my mastery. Through the work I did privately, I earned nine hundred silver coins a month, which, naturally, only makes all of this harder to bear.”

(page 15, I Will Be Called A Murderer) “Now and again, I even feel as if I haven't committed any crime at all. Four days have passed since I was forced to do away with hapless Elegant, who was a brother to me, and only now have I, to some extent, accepted my situation.
I would've preferred to resolve this unexpected and awful dilemma without having to do away with anybody, but I knew there was no other choice, I handle the matter then and there, assuming the burden of responsibility I couldn't let the false accusations of one foolhardy man endanger the entire society of miniaturists.”

(page 59, I Am Called Black) “Painting is the silence of thought and the music of sight.”

(page 112, I Am Your Beloved Uncle) “I reminded him that Death is unique, just like the portraits of the infidels I had seen hanging in Venetian Palazzos, all of them desperately yearned to be rendered distinctly. 'They want to be so distinct and different, and they want this with such a passion that' I said 'look , look into the eyes of Death, See how men do not fear Death, but rather the violence implicit in the desire to be one-of-a-kind, unique and exceptional.'”

(page 161, I Will Be Called A Murderer) “...A great painter does not content himself by affecting us with masterpieces; ultimately, he succeeds in changing the landscape of our minds.”

(page 167, I AM Your Beloved Uncle) “What attracts us to writing, illustrating and painting is bound up in the fear of retribution. It's not only for money and favor that we kneel before our work from morning to evening, continuing by candlelight through the night to the point of blindness and sacrifice ourselves for pictures and books, it's to escape the prattle of others, to escape the community, but in contrast to this passion to create, we also want those we've forsaken to see and appreciate the inspired pictures we've made---and if they should call us sinners? Oh, the suffering this bring upon the illustrator of genuine talent.”

(page 318, It Is I, Master Osman) “However, we could do so relying on the illustration in its entirety: There's something in the manner of composition, in Hatifi's pose, in the colors, the guilding and the stunning hand rendered by Master Bihzad that at once indicates the picture if of a poet. Meaning proceeds form in the world of our art. As we begin to paint in imitation of the Frankish and Venitian masters, as in the book that Our Sultan had commissioned from your Enishte, the domain of meaning ends and the domain of form begins.” show less

I've had this novel on my shelves for some time, acquired more because I wanted to read something by this Nobel laureate than knowing the story itself.

The basic premise is that a man named Black returns to Istanbul from self-imposed exile. He had left the home of his uncle, Enishte, when his uncle refused to permit Black to marry his daughter, Shekure. Upon return Black learns that his Enishte has been commissioned by the Sultan to create an illustrated book glorifying the empire. The work is highly controversial, because the Sultan wishes the book to be illustrated in the European style. Enishte has hired other local miniaturists to help, but keeps each one's work secret from the others. Now one of them has been murdered, and Enishte show more wishes Black to discover who the murderer is.

Aside from the murder mystery, the book is about the conflict in the sixteenth-century between Eastern and Western art. As depicted in the book, an Eastern artist's prestige is based on how well he can mimic a historical style. Individual style is discouraged and signing a work is practically sacrilegious. New works are created by putting different elements together, each element a replica of the ideal form first iconized generations ago. Thus a horse in one painting will look identical to a horse in another painting. Even people are drawn as ideals, not as reflections of reality. In the West, however, and particularly Italy, painting is highly individualized, and portraits are very popular. In addition, Western art uses perspective, whereas Eastern art is still using a horizontal line. Other differences, such as the placement of a person in the center of the canvas, is seen not just as a stylistic choice, but as a religious one. Enishte, who visited Italy as an envoy, is eager to fulfill the Sultan's desire for a Western-style chronicle, whereas the local leader of the miniaturists sees such a commission as dangerous and possibly an affront to Islam.

Another interesting aspect of the novel is that each chapter is told from the first-person point of view of a different character, including the subjects of paintings, such as a tree or a dog, and Death itself. The first chapter, for instance, is entitled, "I am a Corpse." This technique heightens the tension of the search for the murderer, who narrates his own chapters. It also allows for the author to play with who has a voice and contrast their internal dialogue with their outward actions.

Although not a mystery reader, I found this one to be highly literary, historically interesting, and clever. In addition it was fun, and I read it quite quickly. Recommended for those who like art history or The Name of the Rose. show less

Orhan Pamuk depicts his characters as exquisitely and minutely as the miniaturists of Istanbul depict their horses, leaves, women and warriors, and tells his tale as meticulously as the masters of old. A murder mystery that opens with the corpse describing his death and immediate afterlife, the quest for the killer involves an exploration of the clash between the old styles of illustration and illumination of the East and the new, Venetian style of the West which threatens to corrupt and supplant the other. The philosophies and spirtuality and politics of style and imitation are debated and explored and illuminated through parables and tales.
Slightly heavy - wrong word - slightly slow and absorbing going for a January full of other show more stresses and distractions and obligations, but well worth working through, triumphant and gorgeous and ultimately sad; a potentially immortal work of art to immortalise the passing of a style of art that was supposed to be immortal. show less

I originally picked up this book for a world fiction reading challenge a couple of years ago, but got bogged down about halfway in and gave up. I eventually decided to give it another go, and this time I managed to finish it. In Istanbul in the late sixteenth century, the Sultan asks a retired and highly-regarded miniaturist to manage the creation of a book to celebrate his reign. But this book will not be illustrated in the Persian style, as is considered proper and religiously correct, but in the European style (depictions of people and animals is haram in Islam; hence Islamic art’s focus on calligraphy and architecture). But one of the miniaturists secretly approached to provide illustrations, or part of the illustrations, show more disagrees with the project and murders one of the other miniaturists. The novel is structured as first-person narratives by all those involved, including the murdered victims, the daughter of the man managing the project, and a young man who has returned to Istanbul after years in the provinces to ask for the daughter’s hand… It’s not the fastest-paced of murder-mysteries, and Pamuk seems fond of presenting the same piece of information from several different viewpoints so they more or less contradict, or at least, confuse each other. But I did think My Name is Red was very good… although I wasn’t so taken I plan to seek out Pamuk’s other novels. show less

Pamuk recently won a Nobel Prize in Literature, and this book is probably his most well-known. He creates through the nominal device of a mystery story some unforgettable characters and scenes, as he presents the collision of Asian philosophy (as represented by Turkish artistic rules) and Western European philosophy (as represented by the Venetian art of perspective and realism) in the 16th century.

As fascinating as the history and social strictures are, I found this book at times unbearably slow. Members of my book club disagreed quite a lot about it, which made for a lively discussion. I hesitate to rate it, for it is not average, but I would not recommend it to everyone.