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Istanbul: Memories and the City

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A shimmering evocation, by turns intimate and panoramic, of one of the world’s great cities, by its foremost writer.

Orhan Pamuk was born in Istanbul and still lives in the family apartment building where his mother first held him in her arms. His portrait of his city is thus also a self-portrait, refracted by memory and the melancholy–or–hüzün–that all Istanbullus share: the sadness that comes of living amid the ruins of a lost empire.

With cinematic fluidity, Pamuk moves from his glamorous, unhappy parents to the gorgeous, decrepit mansions overlooking the Bosphorus; from the dawning of his self-consciousness to the writers and painters–both Turkish and foreign–who would shape his consciousness of his city.

Like Joyce’s Dublin and Borges’ Buenos Aires, Pamuk’s Istanbul is a triumphant encounter of place and sensibility, beautifully written and immensely moving.

356 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2003

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About the author

Orhan Pamuk

110 books9,873 followers
Ferit Orhan Pamuk is a Turkish novelist, screenwriter, academic, and recipient of the 2006 Nobel Prize in Literature. One of Turkey's most prominent novelists, he has sold over 13 million books in 63 languages, making him the country's best-selling writer.
Pamuk's novels include Silent House, The White Castle, The Black Book, The New Life, My Name Is Red and Snow. He is the Robert Yik-Fong Tam Professor in the Humanities at Columbia University, where he teaches writing and comparative literature. He was elected to the American Philosophical Society in 2018.
Of partial Circassian descent and born in Istanbul, Pamuk is the first Turkish Nobel laureate. He is also the recipient of numerous other literary awards. My Name Is Red won the 2002 Prix du Meilleur Livre Étranger, 2002 Premio Grinzane Cavour and 2003 International Dublin Literary Award.
The European Writers' Parliament came about as a result of a joint proposal by Pamuk and José Saramago. Pamuk's willingness to write books about contentious historical and political events put him at risk of censure in his homeland. In 2005, a lawyer sued him over a statement acknowledging the Armenian genocide in the Ottoman Empire. Pamuk said his intention had been to highlight issues of freedom of speech in Turkey. The court initially declined to hear the case, but in 2011 Pamuk was ordered to pay 6,000 liras in compensation for having insulted the plaintiffs' honor.

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Profile Image for Dr. Appu Sasidharan (Dasfill).
1,358 reviews3,397 followers
December 15, 2022

If you have been searching for one of the best memoirs written by an author about a city, your search ends here.

Orhan Pamuk was born in Istanbul. Apart from three years in New York, he has spent all his life in Istanbul. He gives a beautiful description of Istanbul and all his memories associated with the city through this well-crafted, beautifully written memoir.

What I learned from this book
1) Hüzün
If you are someone who has read Quran or books by Sufi saints, you will be already familiar with the word, Hüzün. The author beautifully describes about it in this book and tells us how Istanbul is connected with this word.

Hüzün is a feeling of melancholy, a feeling of loss. It can also be interpreted as an optimistic way of viewing life from the realms of melancholy.

Just like happiness is associated with every city, melancholy is also associated with them. Alberto Manguel has pointed it out in a beautiful way.

The saudade of Lisbon

The tristeza of Burgos

The mufa of Buenos Aires

The mestizia of Turin

The Traurigkeit of Vienna

The ennui of Alexandria

The ghostliness of Prague

The glumness of Glasgow

The dispiritedness of Boston


Orhan Pamuk has added one more to that list of melancholy which is

The Hüzün of Istanbul

"I amused myself with mental games in which I changed the focus, deceived myself, forgot altogether what had been troubling me or wrapped in a mysterious haze. We might call this confused, hazy state melancholy, or perhaps we should call it by its Turkish name, hüzün, which denotes a melancholy that is communal rather than private. Offering no clarity, veiling reality instead, hüzün brings us comfort, softening the view like the condensation on a window when a teakettle has been spouting steam on a winter's day. Steamed-up windows make me feel hüzün, and I still love getting up and walking over to those windows to trace words on them with my finger. As I shape words and figures on the steamy window, the hüzün inside me dissipates and I can relax; after I have done all my writing and drawing, I can erase it all with the back of my hand and look outside. But the view itself can bring its own hüzün. It is time to come to a better understanding of this feeling that the city of Istanbul carries as its fate."


2) Bosphorus
Bosphorus strait is a natural strait located in northwestern Turkey, connecting the Black Sea to the Sea of Marmara. Bosphorous has a vital place in the lives of people from Istanbul.

"All my life, starting in childhood, I've always lived on hills overlooking the Bosphorus—if only from a distance and between apartments, the domes of mosques, and hills. To be able to see the Bosphorus, even from afar—for İstanbullus this is a matter of spiritual import that may explain why windows looking out onto the sea are like the mihrabs in mosques, the altars in Christian churches, and the tevans in synagogues, and why all the chairs, sofas, and dining tables in our Bosphorus-facing sitting rooms are arranged to face the view."

"Whenever I find myself talking of the beauty and the poetry of the Bosphorus and Istanbul's dark streets, a voice inside me warns against exaggeration, a tendency perhaps motivated by a wish not to acknowledge the lack of beauty in my own life. If I see my city as beautiful and bewitching, then my life must be so too."


3) What is important in the life of a painter and a novelist?
Pamuk's ability to find beauty and uniqueness in every corner of Istanbul makes this memoir special. His ability to understand the joy, melancholy, and passion of each individual toward the city is clearly reflected in his writings. We can see him mentioning the biggest priority in the lives of people from various disciplines of life in this book
"What is important or a painter is not a thing's reality but it's shape, and what is important for a novelist is not the course of events but their ordering, and what is important for a memorist is not the factual accuracy of the account, but it's symmetry."



My favourite three lines from this book
"It was in Cihangir that I first learned Istanbul was not an anonymous multitude of walled-in lives - a jungle of apartments where no one knew who was dead or who was celebrating what - but an archipelago of neighborhoods in which everyone knew each other."


"When you see a beautiful woman in the street, don't look at her hatefully as if you're about to kill her and don't exhibit excessive longing either; just give her a little smile, avert your eyes, and walk on."


“When there is not a breath of wind, the waters sometimes shudder as if from inside and take on the finish of washed silk”


What could have been better?
This particular type of memoir can be thoroughly enjoyed only when we are calm and relaxed and gently read through the pages. Pamuk slowly takes us through every corner of the city and tells us about his positive and negative memories associated with them. Some of you might feel the writing style is a little slow and depressing if you are a reader who is not relaxed and can't digest melancholy or are not familiar with this type of writing style. I think this is not the negative but one of the biggest positives of this book which makes it unique.

Rating
5/5 Istanbul, its Hüzün, Bosphorus, Hagia Sophia, Galata Tower, and Rumeli Fortress are all on my Bucket list of places I like to visit. I will reread this book many more times before visiting Istanbul, not just to become more familiar with the places but also to enjoy the amazing way Pamuk crafted this memoir.
Profile Image for Ahmad Sharabiani.
9,563 reviews371 followers
April 11, 2022
Istanbul, Hatıralar ve Şehir = Istanbul: Memories and the City, 2005, Orhan Pamuk

Istanbul: Memories and the City is a largely autobiographical memoir by Orhan Pamuk that is deeply melancholic. It talks about the vast cultural change that has rocked Turkey – the unending battle between the modern and the receding past. It is also a eulogy to the lost joint family tradition. Most of all, it is a book about Bosphorus and Istanbul's history with the strait. It was translated into English by Maureen Freely in 2005.

تاریخ نخستین خوانش: روز بیست و سوم ماه آوریل سال2014 میلادی

عنوان: استانبول خاطرات و شهر؛ نویسنده: اورهان پاموک؛ مترجم شهلا طهماسبی؛ مشخصات نشر تهران، نیلوفر، سال1391، در495ص؛ مصور، شابک9789644484704؛ کتاب از متن انگلیسی با عنوان بالا ترجمه شده است، موضوع: سرگذشتنامه، استانبول ترکیه، سیر و سیاحت از نویسندگان ترکیه - سده20م

کتاب «استانبول: شهر و خاطره‌ها»، یک خودزندگی‌نامه، اثری از «اورهان پاموک» است، که رگه‌هایی از مالیخولیا در آن دیده می‌شود؛ در این کتاب در مورد تغییرات فرهنگی گسترده در «ترکیه» سخن گفته می‌شود؛ «پاموک» این کتاب را هنگامی نوشتند، که افسردگی نزدیک بود سراسر روح و جسم ایشان را فرا گیرد؛

در یک گفتگو «پاموک» بیان کردند: (نمی‌خواهم چندان به جزییاتی همانند: طلاق، مرگ پدر، مشکلات و دشواری‌های کاری، و از این قبیل، بپردازم، همه چیز بد پیش می‌رفت؛ گمان می‌کنم اگر ضعیف می‌بودم، افسردگی مرا فرامی‌گرفت؛ اما هر روز بیدار می‌شدم، یک دوش خنک می‌گرفتم، و به یادآوری، و نوشتن، مشغول می‌شدم، و به زیبایی و ظرافت کتاب بیشتر توجه می‌کردم)؛ پایان نقل

یادمانهای شخصی «پاموک»، با اشاره‌ هایی به دیگر نویسندگان «استانبول»، در هم آمیخته؛ یک فصل از کتاب، به «آنتونی ایگناس ملینگ» از آن هنرمند سده ی نوزدهم میلادی است، که حکاکی و قلم زنی‌هایی در «قسطنطنیه» انجام داده بود؛ نویسندگان مورد باور «پاموک»، که الهام بخش «پاموک» بوده‌ اند، و شخصیت‌های کتاب ایشان را، تشکیل می‌دهند: «یحیی کمال بیاتلی (نام اصلی احمد آگاه)»، «رشات اکرم کوچو»، «عبدالهاک شیناسی هیسار»، و «احمد حمدی تن پینار» هستند؛ عکس‌های کتاب را عکاس ارمنی «آرا گولر (از نامدارترین عکاسان دنیا)» گرفته اند؛ «پاموک» برهان گزینش ایشان را، وجود جو مالیخولیایی و اندوهناک در آثار عکاس بیان کرده اند؛

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 30/03/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 21/01/1401هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی
Profile Image for Lisa.
1,087 reviews3,310 followers
November 28, 2017


Pamuk was already one of my favourite authors when I read his memoir of his beloved city - Istanbul - in conjunction with a family vacation there. What an amazing reading experience that was!

Imagine that old, old city, full of stories after centuries of human interaction, of cultural clashes and exchanges, of architectural wonders and wars of destruction.

And then imagine one of its most talented writers, a storyteller with the power of 1001 nights, telling the story of the city from his personal angle, sharing his historical knowledge, his family history, and personal relationships, both fictional and real.

Imagine walking the streets and recognising each cobblestone Pamuk mentions.

Imagine going to the markets and taking in the colours and flavours of the spices that he describes, hearing the voices of the lively sellers and buyers, engaged in an everyday dialogue that you might not understand, but feel close to all of a sudden, as you have the voice of Pamuk in your head.



Imagine feeling connected to a completely foreign world through the literary masterpiece of an author who knows how to cross the bridge between Asia and Europe, both literally and figuratively speaking!

Imagine moving around that beautiful, powerful city with your own family while stepping into the living-room of Pamuk's childhood home, meeting his relatives from different generations.

Imagine feeling the hüzün, the melancholy of Istanbul, almost as if it was possible to touch it physically, guided by Pamuk's experience of spiritual loss as a chain that links together a city in an eternal identity crisis:

"For me it has always been a city of ruins and of end-of-empire melancholy. I’ve spent my life either battling with this melancholy or (like all İstanbullus) making it my own."

Identity crisis as the defining element of identity itself - that is an idea only literature can explain and transmit, in conjunction with the black and white photographs of a fictional past glory and the experience of intense life carried out on the streets of modern Istanbul.

As readable as Dickens' London tales and Zola's accounts of Paris, Pamuk gives his home town the best tribute possible: he invites literary travellers to participate in the imagination of its torn soul.

Brilliant!

I couldn't help seeing the city partially with the Scandinavian painter's eyes as well, seeing Zorn's painting of the Bosporus as a visual tribute to the melancholy beauty of local life that Pamuk celebrates.



East meets West.
Profile Image for Kelly.
891 reviews4,612 followers
December 29, 2008
It is just lucky that I happened to read Menocal's Ornament of the World just before this, as it perfectly prepared me for the psychological labyrinth that is this book. It introduced me to a beautiful, helpful image for Pamuk's creation- the "memory palaces" and "memory gardens". This is not an introduction to Istanbul, it is a memory palace worthy of the wildest child's fantasies that haunt this tapestry. Perhaps John Adams, the minimalist composer, put it best when discussing his piece On the Transmigration of Souls, which was dedicated to 9/11, as he said:

"I want to avoid words like 'requiem' or 'memorial' when describing this piece because they too easily suggest conventions that this piece doesn't share. If pressed, I'd probably call the piece a 'memory space.' It's a place where you can go and be alone with your thoughts and emotions. The link to a particular historical event - in this case to 9/11 - is there if you want to contemplate it. But I hope that the piece will summon human experience that goes beyond this particular event."

Similarly, Orhan Pamuk is not writing a Decline and Fall of Istanbul, in a strict economic and political reactionary sense. It's much more than that.

Pamuk chooses to depict the city in which he has lived all fifty years of his life through his own personal experience. This is an experience created out of the analysis and painting childhood memories, personal family tragedy and happiness, famous literary figures and creations, perspectives of newspapers, and reports of oddities. Added to this is descriptions of city-wide feelings, doings, and happenings, and most importantly, the concept of "huzun", a complicated, honorable, tenaciously held communal melancholy that Pamuk believes lies over the city, and of course- the endless big words East and West shoving their heads together in the midst of people just trying to live their lives.

Pamuk deals with big questions that fascinate me, such as- How do you go on when all that you know has died?, Do you have to burn the past in order to live in the present?, What does this word "West" mean, and whom does it mean this to?, How do you deal with multiple identities that tear you apart?, What is the psychological effect of the generations who repress themselves in order to get along with the new power nations on the block and survive?, How do you live when all the legends have done it better?, What /is/ this attachment we have for certain places?, Who is allowed to have a "valid" perspective on a place, or a culture, and why do perspectives from certain sources produce such anger?.. etc.

He also deals with questions on a smaller, more personal scale, which is why this is as much a personal psychological study as it is a national one- How do we become who we are?, Why must we be 'other', in order to see ourselves?, endless questions on personal identity and choice and conflicts with family, the past, the present, and the impossible future and trying to come up with choices that please or rebel against all.

Pamuk shows us an Istanbul drenched in longing- a longing that it appears nobody knows how to solve, caught between so many poles that people's heads spin. It is a place covered in huzun- the melancholy stressed above that somehow people just cannot get rid of, nearly a century after the Ottoman empire fell. He describes its honorable nature, its communal nature, the complicated opinions people have towards the past and the Westernizing present and future. Anyone who has paid attention to Turkish politics should recognize the pull between East and West where what people think is "Western" is sometimes misunderstood, and what being "modern" really is. He shows us a tortured place where even beauty is full of pain. The Bosphorous is presented as an endless possibility, a soothing slice of heaven surrounding the city, a place to escape at the beginning of the book, and the author's complicated outlook morphs it into a source of threats and danger by the end. He shows us stark pictures of the poverty of the "wings" of Istanbul, and then writes tortured chapters arguing with 19th century western authors who praised the "picturesque" beauty of the broken down areas of the city. He shows us a place where people ape "Western" thought and ideas and dress, and look down on anyone who isn't European enough, and yet a place where the newspapers publish glowing accounts of the poor neighborhoods with romanticized accounts of people living "pure, Turkish, old fashioned" lives every year, and where the checkered Ottoman past is more openly celebrated each year. He writes a chapter on "Under Western Eyes," describing this conflict, and yet openly admits that it is Westerners who see the city the way that he does... and then he tortures himself about that too.

... Pamuk's city is, needless to say perhaps after all that, a place where nobody can be easy with themselves, where they are going, where they are, or where they came from.

And in that way, I think, Pamuk is able to make a microcosm of our ever more complicated, globalized world, where the 19th century savior of identity, nationalism, is breaking down, and what will rise to replace it is so far uncertain. Therefore, I really don't care if you ever want to go to Istanbul or not, this book helped Orhan Pamuk win the Nobel Prize for a reason. I think that we would all be a little more patient with the world if everyone listened to what Pamuk has to say.

PS: Whoever put this in the "Travel" section next to "Under the Tuscan Sun,"... EPIC FAIL.
Profile Image for Ahmed.
916 reviews7,825 followers
October 21, 2015

فى المجمل وع العموم أنا لا أحب أدب السير الذاتية , لا لسبب بعينه ولكنى لا أعد نفسى من محبي هذا النوع من الأدب , رغم انبهارى بالعديد من هذه السير التى طالعتها .
ولكن أحياناً تقابلك حالة فريدة من هذا النوع تضعك فى راحة ذهنية ونفسية ممتعة.

حالة من الظلم أن تقول عنها مجرد سيرة ذاتية لأديب ما , بل هى تأريخ بديع لأمةٍ بكاملها , والأمتع هى تأريخ لمدينة وُصفت بالسحر على مدار تاريخها,
اما صاحب السيرة فهو أديب الأتراك الأكبر فى عصرهم الحديث (أورهان باموق) وأما مدينته فهى عاصمتهم الأعظم (اسطنبول)
اسطنبول (ولن يكون ظلم إذا قلت تركيا بأكملها ) فى آخر 50 عام, قدمها لك الكاتب بكل شمولية عبر تاريخه الشخصي.

الكتاب مُقسم إلى 37 فصل , سطّر من خلالهم الكاتب كامل حياته وحياة مدينته إلى لحظة كتابته.

كل فصل منهم بناء محكم مستقل بذاته شارك فى بناء أعظم وهو الكتاب ككل,
الفصل الخامس والثلاثون الذى عنونه الكاتب بإسم (الحب الأول ) من أمتع ما قرأت فى حياتى , فصل استطاع الكاتب تلخيص ما يمرّ بكل البشر ولا يستطيعوا أن يعبرّوا عنه , ولكنه كان خير معبر وأجمل واصف.

الممتع : هو البساطة التى قدّم بها الكاتب حياته من خلالها , بساطة تمسّك وتجبرك على الاندماج مع تفاصيل تلك الحياة المذهلة .

استطاع الكاتب : تقديم حياة شعب بأكمله وحياة مدينة بتاريخها الاجتماعى العريق , من عادات وتقاليد وتفاصيل نادرا ما تقابلها فى كتب التاريخ المعتادة.

اتخذ الكاتب حياته باباً واسعاً دخل من خلاله للحياة التركية بكل سلاسة وتمكن.
إسلوب الكاتب أقل ما يقال عنه أنه إسلوب ساحر , إسلوب أديب رفيع المستوى , كاتب لن تبالغ إذا قلت أن نوبل تستحق أن تحمل إسمه كفائز بها وليس العكس ,إسلوب يصدق فيه قول المصطفى : إن من البيان لسحر.

فى المجمل : كتاب رائع وممتع ومفيد وسلس جدا. ستنتهى من قراءته سريعا وسيترك أثره عليك.

جدير بالذكر : أن أورهان باموق زار مصر كضيف معرض الكتاب فى عام 2007 فى عشية فوزه بالجائزة وكان عظيمنا (محفوظ) توفاه الله , فقال : كانت من أمنياتي الشخصية مقابلة نجيب محفوظ لما يمثلة من قيمة أدبية نادرة ولكن لم يسعفنى القدر.
Profile Image for Mira .
64 reviews53 followers
October 22, 2020
It feels very odd to be writing this review now, sitting in a car on my way back home, feeling bored and tired for no particular reason. And out of nowhere this book- which I finished more than a month ago, and entirely gave up on ever being able to write a decent review about- comes to my mind unbidden, as though deeply connected with my present state of mind. This is going to be one of the most personal reviews I’ll ever write, but that’s merely because Istanbul: Memories and the City has affected me personally, more than any other book ever has. Therefore I’m not going to praise Pamuk’s literary skills or the eloquence of the language. Nor am I going to comment on the exquisite picture of Istanbul which many westerners have described and which the author himself reflects upon many a time throughout the whole book. Those aspects enchanted me well enough, and they do give this book a great deal of its charm, but not as much as the relationship Pamuk shares with his city does. I have to say that I’ve also chosen a very odd timing to read this memoir. The few past months have been very busy and offered me very little time to read, and yet (stubbornly I guess, and to the amusement of many of my friends) I carried this book everywhere I went to make use of stolen free moments. It took me long to finish, naturally, but as John Green eloquently puts it: ‘ As I read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once." The result was that I would read a few pages on the road, then find myself staring out of the window, watching many familiar objects as though for the first time. Has Jerusalem always been this beautiful? Has it always buzzed with noise and movement? I’d wonder sometimes. The magic in this book was that- while it offered nothing new except the details of Istanbul and its dark alleys which I’ve never been to- it reminded me to observe my own city with fresh eyes. As a painting, probably. Or a black and white sketch. Sometimes as a partner in an epic love story. Whatever it was, it helped me remember that familiarity does not necessarily guarantee perfect knowledge. That, in an earlier century, another person stood just like I did in a place he’d known since childhood, suddenly noticing something that has always been there but somehow at that particular moment felt new and unique. And why is that? Because he pretended to be a stranger, a “Westerner” in Pamuk’s case:

‘So whenever I sense the absence of Western eyes, I become my own Westerner.’
Ch.31

‘I would begin to observe myself from the outside, as if in a dream.’ Ch.34

At moments I felt that I’ve never related more to an author, or to his seeking the picturesque and the poetic. At others I felt pity. Pity that such a brilliant writer could be lost, much too taken with the European take on Istanbul in his youth. And so I found it only understandable for him to wonder by the end of the book :“Why should we expect a city to cure us of our spiritual pains?”. Perhaps we shouldn't. The melancholy which invades the very soul of these memoirs stems from the city itself- its ruins and dilapidated palaces, from the attempt to modernize (along with westernize) Turkey, and bury the deeply rooted history. This specific sentence stopped me because it occurred to me upon reading it, that cities with ever changing and usually painful histories must have similar emotional atmospheres. This is probably why I loved Pamuk’s walks to the poor neighborhoods and the ruins more than anything else; they represented the sort of poetic escapism which this book offered me on so many occasions. And it made me wonder more than ever whether Pamuk intended those memoirs to be a record of his own actions and decisions, or a tribute to the city he loved yet in which he was ever restless and wandering.

Reading this book, I was also reminded that stress teaches you to yearn for the unreachable, the unexpected. At least it taught me to. Reading under stress also gave this book a wholly different light from what I anticipated. Pamuk’s memoirs came as a stimulator for many feelings and urges instead of a stereotyped brochure about Istanbul’s charms. The more I read, the more I felt this irresistible urge to paint and write. I think that, during those busy months, I’ve had more sketches around me begging to be worked on, than I ever had in my free time. The chapter named “Painting Istanbul” only helped to ignite those yearnings, and to make me pray for some leisure. And like Pamuk, I felt that "painting allowed me to enter the scene on the canvas."

The positive pointed out, I have to say that this book was far from perfect. I wasn’t truly interested in Pamuk’s physical fantasies or his religious upbringing- which he mentioned often and which I found irrelevant and distracting most of the time. The narration, though beautiful and imaginative, tended sometimes towards repetition.

Over all, the few negative points aside, Pamuk’s memoirs will always stay with me, and remind me of a specific period in my life when I decided to study architecture (the very branch of study the author chose then soon after decided to abandon for writing), and when I re-established my long-term passion for painting (also a hobby the author chose to quit long ago). Istanbul: Memories and the City will always be one of my treasured reads.
Profile Image for Sawsan.
1,000 reviews
October 26, 2019
سيرة مدينة وسيرة حياة... ذكريات وحكايات وخيال وحنين
Profile Image for Dmitri.
234 reviews207 followers
June 13, 2022
"Notions of beauty or of the landscape of a city are inevitably intertwined with our memories."

************

Orhan Pamuk, Nobel laureate, wrote this 2003 memoir of growing up in Istanbul in the 50's and 60's. He senses the loss of empire in the crumbling Ottoman houses around him, describing his large modern family home as a museum where western furnishings replaced the traditional Turkish culture. His grandfather was a wealthy industrialist but his father was slowly losing the family fortune. As a boy his daydreams help him to escape from everyday life.

Pamuk lived with an extended family in a private apartment building with nannies, cooks and maids. He recalls his parents would argue and leave him with relatives. As respite from domestic troubles he falls into melancholy. 'Hüzün' in Turkish describes an emotional state of shared spiritual suffering. It becomes a theme of the book, using people and places to portray a formerly great Ottoman city in decline. His feeling of sadness projects on the city at large.

Pamuk discusses four Turkish writers who tried to reconcile east and west, merging melancholia with modernism after WWI. An encyclopedist publishes illustrated city curiosities; a poet admires French fin de siecle literature; a novelist writes of the post war ruins; a memoirist recreates a vanishing milieu. All lived in the neighborhood where he grew up and he imagines them crossing paths. Their stories appear unexpectedly as chance encounters often do.

Pamuk recounts a litany of ills that afflicted the city in the late 20th century; overpopulation, poverty and pollution. In the quincentennial of the conquest of Istanbul Greek shops and churches were vandalized by Turkish nationalists. As a boy he contrasts his secular family with pious prayers of the poor, noting the rich need no help from God. After Ataturk's reforms religion was replaced with emptiness. His Ramadan fast lasts fifteen minutes before the feast ensues.

Pamuk recalls post war WWII class conciousness and social competition. People in his peer group aspired to be modern and western. Conversely westerners wished the city would stand still. He counts boats on the Bosphorus watching some go up in flames. Soviet warships rumble by in the night. The city is drawn to disasters large and small. Istanbulites were sensitive to what foreigners felt. This portrait of city navel gazing reflects his idiosyncrasies as an author.

Pamuk proposes symmetry as the most important goal of a memoirist. At an early age he believed in another house like his lived another Orhan, a twin or a double. He grows up and attends college for architecture but he stops going to his classes. He remains in his family home, reading and taking long walks. His father is absent until late and his mother stays up alone. This leads to arguments until she discovers another apartment where his father keeps a lover.

Pamuk uses black and white photos from his family album to illustrate the book. There are also photos of Istanbul, views of rundown and empty mansions along the Bosphorus and wooden townhouses in the city burned out or abandoned. He includes artwork from the past, particularly Antoine-Ignace Melling architect to Sultan Selim III in 1784-1802, a western artist as important to Istanbul as Piranesi was to Rome. Loss and nostalgia permeate the images he chooses.

Pamuk later built the Museum of Innocence in Istanbul. It is housed in a former townhouse and is filled with everyday objects he collected from the city. Intriguingly it is tied to his novel of the same name, and he exhibits real things from a fictional world. His projects are about tension between Asia and Europe and the end of Turkish identity. The writing is conveyed well in translation but parts of this memoir can become too long winded and self indulgent.
Profile Image for Daren.
1,440 reviews4,496 followers
December 2, 2022
Orhan Pamuk, Turkey's most famous novelist, shares with us an intimate view of his childhood and of Istanbul in the 1950's, 60's and 70's. Pamuk certainly doesn't shy away from the detail of either topic. This is an in-depth book, broken (sensibly) into short chapters, and interspersed with loads of old (black and white) photographs. It is obvious that as well as his own recollections and knowledge, there has been much research into building the detailed history. It is a somewhat eclectic collection of topics, zig-zagging all the way, but largely in chronological order.

Pamuk has a clear affection for his city of birth, but he doesn't shy from sharing the parts of Istanbul that show it as city in decline. From burning mansions on the Bosphorus to the old cobblestone alleys with neglected buildings, Pamuk describes them in rich detail, following up with photographs of almost every aspect he writes about.

His family and family history lies exposed for all to see, and the intimate details are not spared. He shares his childhood thoughts and beliefs, his father having and affair and its effect on his mother, and his first love - and while the largest part of this memoir is melancholy and about the troubles of his life, there are some genuinely funny parts. Politics and religion were also open topics, nothing was off the table, modernisation, Westernisation, ethnic immigrants who were arriving in Istanbul.

Interwoven through this history are artists and literary figures - those from Turkey and those who visited, and their thought and opinions are also explored. While we know Pamuk as a writer, his first involvement with the arts was painting, which he persisted with throughout the novel. I made no real connection with the artists or literary figures (especially the Turkish ones!), but one great aspect of this book are the short chapters - no topic is persisted with for too long (although some are revisited).

P268
Even if I didn't believe in God as much as I might have wished, part of me still hoped that if God was omniscient as people said, She must be clever enough to understand why it was that I was incapable of faith - and so forgive me. [...] What I feared most was not God but those who believed in Her to excess. The stupidity of the pious - whose judgement could never be compared with those of the God - God forbid - they adored with all their heart - that was the second thing that scared me.

P289
One day, too, sex would cease to be a solitary pursuit; I would have a beautiful lover with whom I would share my forbidden pleasures.

The publication of this book in 2005, aligns with my visit to Istanbul. For me it still had the old-world feel, the history in the cobbled streets, the buildings, the Bosphorus. I enjoyed the backfill this book provided, mixed with the childhood memories offered up by Pamuk. I haven't read any of the authors fiction, but own one, and will read it in due course!

4 stars.
Profile Image for Mostafa Alipour.
66 reviews35 followers
May 16, 2024
خاطرات مثل رودخانه‌ای هستند که مدام در حال جریان هستند. ما نمی‌توانیم آنها را متوقف کنیم، اما می‌توانیم مسیر آنها را تغییر دهیم.

اگر پیش از این بیش از یک کتاب از پاموک مطالعه کرده باشید احتمالا به یاد دارید که بجز دو کتاب برف و شب های طائون بقیه در بستر استانبول و کوچه پس کوچه هاش روایت شده. از طرفی در رمان های پاموک شهر و جزئیات ریز و درشت‌اش نقش بسزایی در پیشبرد داستان ایفا می‌کنند. مخصوصا توی رمان های کتاب سیاه و چیز غریبی در سرم که شهر در اونها نه صرفا مکان رخداد های داستان بلکه جزئی از شخصیت های اصلی هست.
با نگاه اجمالی به برندگان نوبل ادبیات حضور پاموک در اون جمع شاید کمی شگفت انگیز به نظر بیاد. اما وقتی کمی بیشتر در این مورد دقت به خرج بدیم می‌بینیم که این انتخاب بی ارتباط به شهر استانبول نیست.
The Nobel Prize in Literature 2006 was awarded to Orhan Pamuk "who in the quest for the melancholic soul of his native city has discovered new symbols for the clash and interlacing of cultures"

نویسنده‌ای در جستجوی روح مالیخولیایی شهر زادگاهش.

جذابیت این کتاب اینجاست که صرفا خاطره نویسی یا تاریخ نگاری از استانبول نیست. بلکه ترکیب عجیب و نامعمول از این دو هست. از خاطرات برای توصیف شهر استفاده شده یا برعکس ویژگی های شهر باعث یادآوری خاطرات شخصی و عمیقتر شدن در تاریخ پر از فراز و نشیب استانبول می‌شن. از طرفی همینطور که پاموک در کتاب هم بهش اشاره کرده تک تک موضوعات انتخاب شده از شهر بسترساز روایت خاطره بعدی خواهد بود و این موضوعات طوری با دقت و هوشمندی انتخاب شده تا بیشترین توجه و موافقت رو از طرف خواننده به همراه داشته باشه.

اما دلیل این توجه به استانبول چه مواردی هست؟
فارغ از اینکه نویسنده در استانبول متولد شد و رشد کرد دلایل متعددی استانبول رو از شهر های دیگه متمایز می‌کنه.
کنستانتینوپولیس آخرین پایتخت امپراطوری باشکوه روم شرقی بود که توسط سلطان محمد فاتح تسخیر شد. سلطانی که لقب و شهرتش وامدار برانداختن یکی از پرافتخار ترین حکومت های تاریخ هست. بعد از ساکن شدن مسلمانان در شهر سابقا مسیحی و اروپایی قسطنطیه تا به امروز کشاکش بین شرق و غرب یا اروپا و آسیا دست بردار مردم استانبول نبوده. مردمی که در این گیرودار هویت خودشون رو فراموش کردند و به نوعی محزون زندگی می‌کنند.
چندین سال پایتخت حکومت های تاثیر گذار بودن شهر رو مملو از مکان های دیدنی و تاریخی کرده و از طرفی نزدیکی به دریا و گذر کشتی ها هم به جذابیت های شهر افزوده.
بیشتر تغییرات انقلابی و فرهنگی و اجتماعی از استانبول آغاز شد و در سراسر عثمانی و ترکیه فراگیر شد.
در واقع بهتر هست بگیم که پاموک با سیر در تاریخ شهر به دنبال هویت گمشده خودش می‌گرده.

کتاب در زمینه خاطرات به سه بخش قابل تقسیم هست. دوران کودکی، نوجوانی و جوانی. دو بخش کودکی و نوجوانی حجم بسیار بیشتری از جوانی به خودشون اختصاص دادند.
وقتی از دور به زندگی بزرگان نگاه می‌کنیم هرچه که بیشتر و بیشتر متمرکز می‌شیم اونها رو افرادی ماورایی و کاملا استثنایی می‌بینیم. هرچند که استثنایی بودن اونها غیرقابل انکار هست اما حقیقت پنهان اینجاست که اونها در کنار ما و در تعامل با همین جامعه رشد کردند و شکوفا شدند. با قبول اینکه تفاوت ها اونها رو از ما متمایز کرده ولی شباهت های متعددی هم داریم. همین شباهت هاست که باعث لذت هرچه بیشتر ما از آثار اونها می‌شن.
به نظرم کلیدی ترین ویژگی این کتاب صداقت و شفافیت ملموس روایت های پاموک هست. اینکه می‌بینیم اون هم عضوی از یک خانواده است که روزی پرشکوه بود، خانواده‌ای که در یک ساختمان زندگی می‌کرد و گذارنشون به هم وابسته بود، اما الان دچار واپاشی شده و هر کدوم در جایی. جدایی گاه و بیگاه پدر و مادر از هم و در انتها طلاق سفید. زندگی موقت با بستگان درجه یک جدا از پدر و مادر و برادر. به باد رفتن سرمایه خانواده به دست پدر. تنفر از مدرسه و بهانه های تکراری برای فرار از فضای ملال آورش. داشتن برادری بزرگتر، زورگو و موفق در تحصیل. علاقه به هنر و نقاشی که اهرم تمسخر و فشار والدین و اطرافیانش بود. زاده شدن در کشوری ظاهرا مسلمان و یدک کشیدن همیشگی عنوانی مجازی. فشار های روانی که منجر به خودارضایی شدند. قدم زدن های بی پایان برای پیدا کردن جواب سوال های بنیادی. اولین عشق و ناکامی قابل پیش بینی و تغییر بنیادی بعدش. جنون مطالعه رمان برای دور شدن از زمان حال و...

در بخش پایانی پاموک دانشجوی معماری رو می‌بینیم که در کلاس ها چند خط درمیان حضور پیدا می‌کنه. روزهای پر از درگیری با مادری که به خیانت شوهرش پی برده، پسر بزرگش به آمریکا مهاجرت کرده و حالا کسی رو جز پسر کوچک‌تر نزدیک خودش نداره. مادر هم که عاقبتی در نقاشی نمی‌بینه راه و بی‌راه به پروپای فرزند می‌پیچه تا سربراهش کنه. سرکوفت های کوچک و بزرگ، حرف های صدمن یک غاز دوستان و آشنایان و حتی به رخ کشیدن از دست رفتن اولین عشق بلکه از امید پسر به نقاشی کاسته بشه. اورهان هم با جواب "نمی‌خواهم نقاش شوم. می‌خواهم نویسنده شوم." طبق معمول از خانه بیرون می‌زنه تا با قدم زدن آرامش از دست رفته رو احیا کنه.

برای من به عنوان یک مخاطب جدی آثار پاموک تصور اینکه یک نویسنده تا این حجم به هنر و مخصوصا نقاشی اشراف داره شگفت آور بود. توانایی عجیبی که سرچشمه شکل گیری نام من سرخ شد. بعد از مطالعه نام من سرخ با اینکه از علاقه پاموک به نقاشی مطلع بودم اما همیشه برام مورد سوال بود که چطور با این استعداد و اطلاعات در نقاشی وارد عرصه‌ی نویسندگی شده -که البته خوشحال کننده است- و اینجا جواب سوالم رو پیدا کردم. چه چیزی جز شکست عشقی می‌تونه سالها شوق رو نابود کنه؟

و داستان جالب مادرش در انتخاب اسم اورهان. همیشه والدین به دنبال افراد شاخص و تاثیرگذار تاریخ برای نامگذاری فرزندانشون با الهام از اسامی اونها هستند. مادر پاموک نقطه مقابل این جریان هست.
دومین سلطان عثمانی اورهان یکم یکی از منزوی ترین و بی حاشیه ترین پادشاهان عثمانی بود. دنبال تغییرات گسترده و انقلابی و حرکت های چشمگیر نبود و در مجموع دوران حکومت آرامی داشت.
مادر پاموک به این دلیل نام اورهان رو انتخاب کرد چون در بین سلاطین عثمانی فقط اورهان بود که به دنبال برنامه های بزرگ نرفت و قصد مطرح کردن نامش رو نداشت.

پاموک برای من همیشه در صدر بود. در صدر بود و خواهد بود. فکر نمی‌کنم حداقل حالا حالاها کسی جایگاهش رو در ذهنم حتی تهدید کنه. با هرکتاب جدیدی که ازش می‌خونم شگفت زده می‌شم انگار که تازه کشفش کردم. تقریبا بعد از مطالعه اغلب کارهاش(دو رمان و یک مجموعه جستار باقی مانده) پرسه در خاطرات خودنوشتش برای من مصداق عیش مدام بود. تمام سعیم رو کردم که این کتاب نسبتا کم حجم رو تا حد امکان طولانی‌تر به پایان برسونم و بیش از یک ماه قطره قطره ازش چشیدم و هنوز شیرینیش از خاطرم نرفته.
اگر مخاطب جدی کارهای پاموک نیستید که اغلب به این دسته تعلق دارید مطالعه این کتاب رو بهتون پیشنهاد نمی‌کنم. چون مثل بقیه کارهاش چیزی جز ملال براتون نداره.

در آخر هم یک گلایه از نشر وزین نیلوفر. بد نیست بعد از چاپ به نتیجه کار حداقل در حد تورق نگاهی بندازید. تقریبا هر دو صفحه یک عکس چاپ شده که بیش از نود درصد اونها اصلا قابل درک و فهم نیست. یا کاملا سیاه یا به حدی تار که اصلا واضح نیست. با این روال چه الزامی به چاپ هست؟ حداقل تعدادی از صفحات کسر می‌شه.

بیست‌وهفت اردیبهشت صفرسه
Profile Image for Arakah Mushaweh.
97 reviews642 followers
July 21, 2011
من بين خمسين كتاباً يصطفون في قائمة الكتب في الكيندل .. وقع اختياري على أورهان ، قرأت هذا الكتاب لأنه أورهان المبدع كما قرأت له في كتابه ألوان أخرى الذي لم أكمله بعد .. ولأنها اسطنبول التي أعشق .. هذا الكتاب الذي ما إن تبدأ بقراءة أول صفحة حتى تفوح لك ذاكرة الأمكنة .. هذا الكتاب المتعمق في ذاكرة اسطنبول .. حزن اسطنبول ، بيت العائلة المتمركز في اسطنبول ، الأبيض والأسود في اسطنبول .. حزن البسفور والياليات التي لم تعد موجودة بعد انهيار الخلافة .. كل هذه التفاصيل التي تشوبها رائحة الماضي بل هي من الماضي فعلاً يقرأها لك أورهان وكأنه يهمس في أذنك .. هكذا شعرت لما قرأت هذا الكتاب .. أن أورهان يتحدث بوقار وبأناقة شديدة وهو يتذكر طفولته .. جيهان جير .. نيشان طاش .. المنازل المكتظة .. والحزن الذي داهمه مرات لأنه أقام فترة في منزل خالته الذي يحتجب عنه البسفور خجلاً خلف مباني عدة .. سمعت عن أورهان فأبهرني ما سمعت .. وقرأت لأورهان فأدهشني ما قرأت ..
Profile Image for Sanaz.
63 reviews49 followers
December 20, 2016
در طول این یک ماه و 13 روزی که مشغول خواندن کتاب بودم، حداقل دو سه باری درباره اش نوشتم و به همه هم خواندنش را توصیه کردم. می توانم ادعا کنم که یکی از بهترین هایی بود که در چند وقت اخیر خواندم. پاموک در ترسیم شهر و بیان خاطراتش به گونه ای باور پذیر موفق عمل کرده است. اگر از آن کسانی باشید که شهرها را زندگی می کنند و در اصطلاح من آدم های عشق شهری هستند، از خواندن کتاب لذت می برید. چون به قول منتقد روزنامه گاردین این کتاب شاهکاری سه وجهی است؛ جسم و جان شهر را وصف می کند و گزارشی پر صلابت است از سیاست بازی های خانوادگی، جنگ و دیپلماسی و کندوکاوی در پیشروی های کورمال کورمال نویسنده در جوانی در جهت علاقه و استعداد ذاتی اش.
همیشه از خودم می پرسیدم شهر به عنوان یک کل که عوامل متعددی در شکل گیری و بقایش تاثیر دارند، چه چیزی دارد که تا این حد برایم جذاب است؟ کدام یک از مقوله ها و عوامل وابسته به شهر تا این حد جالب و وسوسه انگیزش می کنند؟ تاریخ؟ فرهنگ؟ هم نشینی آدم ها در یک محدوده جغرافیایی و مشترکاتی که این جغرافیا به آنها می دهد؟ واقعا چه چیز؟ تمام این مقوله ها هم که جذاب باشند، ما چه قدر می توانیم مستند و واقعی در مورد آنها صحبت کنیم. مثال می زنم وقتی از روح شهر، شکل شهر، داستان شهر و یا هرچیز مرتبط با آن حرف می زنیم دقیقا منظورمان چیست؟ از یک واقعیت عینی صحبت می کنیم یا از خیال هایمان؟ نوشتن و حرف زدن از شهر انگار شمشیر دو لبه ای است که هم زمان طعنه به واقعیت و خیال می زند و همین باعث می شود که واقعا نتوان مرز مشخصی بین واقعیت و خیال شهر ها قائل شد. کتاب پاموک انگار می خواهد بگوید که لازم نیست برای فهم شهر بین خیال و واقعیت آن مرزی قائل شوی، شهر آمیخته ای است از هر دو اینها و برای فهمش ناگزیر به رجوع به هر دو عامل هستیم. پاموک با این کتاب انگار می خواسته بین شهر و ادبیات و تاریخ و خاطراتش پل بزند. می خواسته بگوید که واقعیت شهرها همان چیزی است که ما درباره شان فکر می کنیم. ما شهر را زندگی می کنیم و با تفکراتمان، با پرسه هایمان، با خاطراتمان به آن شکل می دهیم. پاموک در صفحه 452 کتاب به درستی می نویسد :«هرچیزی که در مورد جوهر شهر بگوییم، بیشتر گویای زندگی خودمان و طرز فکرمان است. شهر مرکزی جز ما ندارد».ا
وجه تشابه زیادی بین شهری که پاموک از آن می نویسد و شهری که من در آن زندگی می کنم وجود دارد. استانبول و اصفهان خواهر خوانده هستند. هر دو شهر، شهرهایی تاریخی هستند که روزگاری ابهت و جلال و شکوه داشته اند، پایتخت بوده اند و مرکز جهان سنی و شیعه قرن شانزدهم و هفدهم میلادی به حساب می آمدند. اصفهان زودتر از استانبول دچار افول و زوال می شود شاید به همین خاطر است که حزنش دیگر تازگی ندارد. حزن به مدت سیصد سال آنچنان در تار و پود شهر تنیده و با آن عجین شده که دیگر آن قدرها واضح نیست. عملا از اصفهان روزگار صفویان چیز زیادی باقی نمانده اما شهر هم چنان در بخش هایی از خود انگار که خاطره شکوه روزگاران گذشته اش را با خود حمل می کند. وقتی در بازار و کوچه پس کوچه های محله های قدیمی قدم می زنی، حزن ویرانه ها را (شاید در مقیاسی کمتر از حزن استانبول) حس می کنی. انگار که یک خاطره باشکوه و به یادماندنی پس ذهنش نشسته که هر از چندگاهی مرور آن لبخند غمگینی به چهره اش می نشاند. حزن استانبول اما تازه تر است. دوره شکوه استانبول طولانی تر و ماناتر از اصفهان بود. حتی از اواسط قرن نوزدهم میلادی که امپراتوری عثمانی رو به افول گذاشت، استانبول به گواه سیاحانی که آن را دیده اند، شهری است مهم و باشکوه و جای تعحب ندارد که حزن ناشی از زوال آن، حزنی که پاموک در سرتاسر کتاب سعی در تشریح و اثباتش دارد، دامن اهالی شهر را گرفته باشد.
نکته مهم دیگری که به جز شباهت اصفهان و استانبول به هم ذات پنداری من با نویسنده منجر شد، دید و روحیه شرقی بود که انگار یکی از وجوه مشابهت ما با همسایگان ترک زبان است. مادامی که پاموک از روحیه شهروندان و آدم ها می نوشت و حس و دید آنها را نسبت به شهر و خودشان توضیح می داد من حس می کردم دارد از روحیه و فرهنگ مردمی مسلط بر شهرهای ایران حرف می زند. حس تحقیر و خودباختگی در برابر غرب، تلاش برای شبیه شدن به اروپایی ها اما در عین حال احساس نزدیکی به روحیه شرقی شهر. فکر می کنم درک فرهنگ و روحیه مسلط بر استانبول و تبیین آن یکی از نقطه قوت های کتاب است که به خواننده کمک می کند احساس نزدیکی بیشتری با کتاب داشته باشد.
یکی از معدود ریووهای فارسی که در مورد کتاب خواندم اشاره قشنگی کرده بود، ریوو ها هم می توانند تِم داشته باشند، تم حزن، تم اندوه یا تم حسرت. خواندن این کتاب جدای از آنکه مرا با حس و حال نویسنده همراه کرد و باعث شد استانبول را کمی بهتر بشناسم، همراه با حسرتی عمیق بود که آن دوست هم در ریوو اش به آن اشاره کرده بود. حسرتی مبنی بر آنکه چرا ما این قدر از شهرهایمان کم نوشته ایم. چرا آنها را درست نخوانده ایم و سعی نکرده ایم گذشته و حال آنها را در قالب اثری منسجم بنویسیم. در تمام مدتی که کتاب را می خواندم به این فکر می کردم که پاموک با چه تسلطی از استانبول می نویسد، تمام آنچه درباره شهر نوشته اند را خوانده و آن قدر بر آنها مسلط است که می تواند آنها را لابلای خاطرات و برداشت خودش از شهر بتند و روایتی منحصر به فرد و خواندنی ارائه کند که گذشته و حال را در خود دارد. شاید ما هم باید قبل از آنکه همین اندک باقی مانده های حس و حال و روح شهرهایمان زیر چرخ بولدوزرها نابود شود از آنها بنویسم. اول آنها را خوب بخوانیم و بعد بنویسم. مطمئنا هر شهری داستانی دارد که شنیدنش خالی از لطف نیست.
Profile Image for پگاه.
127 reviews185 followers
June 10, 2016
کتاب رو تموم کردم و نمی‌تونستم همون طور روی تخت بمونم از شدت خوشی.

این کتاب وصف‌نکردنی خوب بود.

«اگر آن قدر در شهری زندگی کرده باشیم که واقعی‌ترین و عمیق‌ترین احساسات‌مان را به منظری‌های آن منتقل کنیم، زمانی می‌رسد که خیابان‌ها، تصاویر و چشم‌اندازها همان طور که یک آهنگ، عشقی از دست رفته را در خاطرمان زنده می‌کند، واقعی‌ترین و عمیق‌ترین احساسات‌شان را به ما منتقل می‌کنند.»
این دقیقا خلاصه‌ی اون چیزی بود که موجب شده نویسنده بتونه کتابی بنویسه که هم از استانبول بگه و هم از زندگی خودش، و نه تنها آشفتگی‌ای احساس نشه، بلکه این طور به نظر خواننده بیاد که این دو به هیچ عنوان تفکیک‌پذیر نیستن و ممکن نبوده که جدا جدا راجع بهشون صحبت کنه!

چیزهایی که دلم می‌خواست بگم، بدون اون‌هایی که در طی زمان یادم رفته‌شون:

یک. آقای پاموک در هر فصلی و در هر پاراگراف‌ی و درباره‌ی هر چیزی، دقیقا همون رو می‌گفت که باید. دقیقا به همون چیزهایی دقیق می‌شد که باید. خیلی درست وصف می‌کرد. جزییات رو می‌گفت. ولی به قدر کافی. رمان روس نبود. مثال بی‌نظیرش، اون چند صفحه‌ای که توی فصل حزن-مالیخولیا-اندوه مردم شهر رو توصیف کرده بود (که زیاد ه و نمی‌تونم تایپ‌ش کنم واقعا! نسخه‌ی صوتی ای ولی موجود دارم ازش :دی)

دو. آقای پاموک خیلی خیلی خوب از خیال‌ش بهره می‌برد. اون جا که جلوی آینه‌ی مادرش با ت��اویر تکرارشده زندگی می‌کرد، بازی‌هایی که بچگی‌ش می‌کرد، فوتبال با تیله‌ها با برادرش. همه خیلی خوب بودن! صحبت‌هاش از کودکی‌ش، حسادت من رو برمی‌انگیخت. هم به خاطر همه‌ی خیالبافی‌هایی که می‌کرد و فکرهایی که داشت، هم به خاطر این که این قدر راحت ازشون صحبت می‌کرد!

سه. هر کسی برای آقای پاموک به طور خاص شایسته‌ی توجه و صحبت بود. این رو توی فصل لذت و ملال مدرسه هم خودش می‌گه و هم خیلی خوب می‌شه دید! همین جا بود که من فهمیدم که یک روزی که عاشق کسی بشم، اون آدم قطعا از چند منظر شبیه به آقای پاموک خواهد بود. آقای پاموک نسخه‌ی پیشرفته‌ای از چیزهایی رو داشت که من دوست دارم داشته باشم. جوری بود که من دوست دارم باشم.

چهار. خیلی مهم. عکس‌های کتاب خیلی خوب انتخاب شده بودن. خیلی به جا بودن. هم عکس‌های خوبی بودن و هم جای درستی بودن همواره. یک بخش مهم‌ی از کتاب بودن. نه صرفا توضیح اضافه، که خود توضیح بودن.

پنج. آقای پاموک در صحبت‌هاش از استانبول، نویسنده‌ها و روزنامه‌نگارها و نقاش‌هایی رو معرفی کرده بود که هر کدام قدر خودش دوست‌داشتنی به نظر می‌اومدن.یک جایی‌ش هست راجع به گوستاو فلوبر که می‌گه که «فلوبر مردی بود که برای هر چیزی که پشت سر می‌گذاشت، دل تنگ می‌شد» و همین چندان علاقه‌ای در خواننده(ای که من باشم!) برمی‌انگیزه که دلش می‌خواد نوشته‌های فلوبر راجع به خودش رو بخونه. مثلا اگر فلوبر وبلاگ داشت یا همچه چیزی!
یا جایی که راجع به رشاد اکرم کوچو و اون دایرة المعارف استانبول‌ش می‌گه. که دل آدم رو آب می‌کنه که بره و هر جور شده از اون دایرة المعارف‌‌ی که یحتمل در خود استانبول هم به سختی گیر می‌آد، مدخل‌هایی گیر بیاره و بخونه. چون که واقعا زیباست، اون رویکردی که در نوشتن‌ش داشته!

شش. خوبی‌های دیگری هم داشت که نمی‌تونم دسته بندی‌شون کنم!

هفت. زیبایی توام با غصه ای همه‌ی سطور کتاب رو در بر گرفته بود که گریه‌ای در دل آدم برمی‌انگیخت که حتی اگر از چشم خارج نمی‌شد، درد فراوان می‌آورد برای دل.

هشت. به کتاب پنج ستاره دادم، اما این فصول‌ش شش و بعضا هفت ستاره حق داشتن:
اورحان دیگر، «من»، سیاه و سفید، منظره‌های بوسفور ملینگ، حزن-مالیخولیا- اندوه (که از فصولی‌ ه که اگر هم نمی‌خواید همه‌ی کتاب رو بخونید، حتما حتما باید بخونید ش!)، لذت و ملال مدرسه، یورنیمزفت دیزادنین( که چه قدر عالی از باسواد شدن‌ش می‌گه!) رشاد اکرم کوچو و ...، دین( که من بی‌اندازه متوجه‌ش بودم و بی‌اندازه اورحان توی این فصل رو دوست داشتم)‌، کشتی‌هایی که از بوسفور عبور می‌کردند،..، استانبول در نقاشی‌های من( که حسادت من رو بارها برانگیخت که نقاشی نمی‌توانم!) دعواهای‌م با برادر بزرگم، مدرسه‌ی بیگانه، بیگانه‌ای در مدرسه( که من درش خودم رو بیش از هر فصلی یافتم) و در نهایت، گفت‌و گویی با مادرم که از همه‌شون بیشتر قلب‌م رو متاثر کرد!

پی‌نوشت‌ها:
یک. با تشکر فراوان از خانم شهلا طهماسبی، که بعد از رولددال‌ها، با ترجمه‌ی خیلی خوب این من رو از خود بسیار خوشنود کردن!
دو. با تشکر از نگارنده‌ی «بلکه درش خودت را بیابی!» که خیلی خوب و راست بود این.
سه. بخوانیدش. ��خوانیدش. :دی
Profile Image for Titi Coolda.
201 reviews93 followers
November 11, 2022
Mi-a plăcut mult Istanbul-ul lui Pamuk, pentru că este un memoir atins de hűzűn, acea melancolie tipic turcească amintind de o pierdere( a copilăriei, a inocenței, a iubirii, a imperiului). Și totuși n-avem o poveste-n alb și negru ci una scrisă cu acribie în infinite nuanțe de gri așa cum sunt și fotografiile care decorează albumul scriitorului despre orașul copilăriei/tinereții sale.
Profile Image for Maria Bikaki.
843 reviews459 followers
March 11, 2021
«Είχα απομακρυνθεί περισσότερο απ’ όλους στην Ιστανμπούλ από τη μελαγχολία, δεν ήθελα να συνηθίσω σε αυτό το συναίσθημα, όσο ένιωθα την παρουσία του μέσα μου αρνιόμουν να το δεχτώ, ήθελα να καταφεύγω μέσα στην ομορφιά της Ιστανμπούλ. Γιατί ή ομορφιά μιας πόλης, ο πλούτος της ιστορίας της ή το μυστήριο της να είναι το φάρμακο του δικού μας ψυχικού πόνου; Ίσως επειδή αγαπάμε την πόλη που ζούμε όπως αγαπάμε και την οικογένεια μας, επειδή δε μπορούμε να κάνουμε διαφορετικά. Πρέπει όμως να ανακαλύψουμε ποιο μέρος της πόλης θα αγαπάμε και γιατί».

Ο Ορχάν Παμούκ είναι από τους συγγραφείς που αγαπώ πολύ. Είναι από κείνες τις πένες που όταν διαβάζω κάποιο βιβλίο του την ίδια ώρα νιώθω λες και οι λέξεις ξεπετάγονται μία μία μπροστά μου, νιώθω την φωνή του δίπλα μου να μου αφηγείται τις πολύτιμες και πάντα συναισθηματικές του ιστορίες. Είχα μεγάλη ανάγκη να διαβάσω αυτή την περίοδο της ζωής μου ένα βιβλίο σαν την Ιστανμπούλ. Σε μια νέα βελτιωμένη έκδοση από τις εκδόσεις Πατάκη οι οποίες με μαεστρία και υπευθυνότητα ανέλαβαν το σπουδαίο έργο της επανέκδοσης όλων των βιβλίων του, ο Ορχάν Παμούκ αυτοβιογραφείται και παράλληλα βιογραφεί με τρόπο ζηλευτό την αγαπημένη σε όλους μας Πόλη, την πιο μελαγχολική και όμορφη πόλη του κόσμου.
Μέσα από 37 ενότητες συνοδευμένες με ανανεωμένο πλούσιο φωτογραφικό υλικό ο Παμούκ μέσα από μια κατά βάση αυτοβιογραφική και πρωτοπρόσωπη αφήγηση, ο Παμούκ επιχειρεί να φτιάξει το πορτραίτο της αγαπημένης του πόλης. Με τον σπουδαίο λόγο του προσπαθεί να εισάγει τον αναγνώστη σε εικόνες μιας Πόλης που δεν είχε ποτέ φανταστεί.

«Όσα η μεγάλη, πανάρχαια αυτή πολιτεία, σέρνει μαζί της στο διάβα των αιώνων, όσα τη βαραίνουν, όσα την απελπίζουν, όσα της προκαλούν μια βαθιά, παχύρευστη λύπη, το χιουζούν, όπως μεταφράζεται στα τουρκικά αυτό το παράδοξο συναίσθημα».

Σε μια ξενάγηση ανάμεσα στην Πόλη της Οθωμανικής δημοκρατίας και της κεμαλικής και τη μελαγχολία των χαλασμάτων στο πέρασμα του χρόνου ο Παμούκ υφαίνει έναν σπουδαίο πίνακα ζωγραφικής. Ποιος καλύτερος αφηγητής από εκείνον άλλωστε. Αποφεύγοντας τουριστικές περιγραφές που θα μπορούσαν να γίνουν κουραστικές και που κατά βάση είναι γνωστές το Ιστανμπούλ είναι ένα βιβλίο μνήμης, αναμνήσεων, μια κατάθεση ψυχής που βασίζεται στις παιδικές του αναμνήσεις, σε ζωγραφικούς πίνακες, στην σκιαγράφηση, άνοδο και πτώση των μελών της οικογένειας του. Μέσα από τις περιγραφές του ο Παμούκ θα έρθει αντιμέτωπος με μεγάλα ερωτήματα, θα μιλήσει με τρόπο καθηλωτικό για τον ας πουμε εκτουρκισμό αν υπάρχει αυτή η λέξη, της Κωνσταντινούπολης στο πέρασμα του χρόνου.
Μια μοναδική αναγνωστική εμπειρία γεμάτη εναλλαγές, εικόνες με την οποία ο συγγραφέας κάνει τον αναγνώστη να αισθανθεί συνδεδεμένος και να μεταφερθεί από τη μια στα σοκάκια της πόλης ή στο σαλόνι του σπιτιού του συγγραφέα. Το χιουζουν και η μελαγχολία της Πόλης θα περάσουν και στον αναγνώστη κάνοντας ακόμα πιο μαγική την εμπειρία της ανάγνωσης. Χιουζουν είναι για το συγγραφέα η μελαγχολία που διακατέχει συνολικά τους κατοίκους της Πόλης μια μελαγχολία που είναι εκεί στο πέρασμα του χρόνου για έναν πολιτισμό που από την λαμπρότητα πέρασε στην ήττα, ένα συναισθημα που πραγματικά το νιώθεις καθώς περπατάς στα σοκάκια της.
Αν αγαπάτε την Πόλη είναι το βιβλίο για σας. Αν θέλετε να την γνωρίσετε με έναν τρόπο διαφορετικό και μαγικό επίσης είναι το βιβλίο για εσάς.

"Δε μπορεί να ναι τόσο χάλια η ζωή,σκέφτομαι καμιά φορά. Ότι και να γίνει,ο άνθρωπος στο τέλος μπορεί να περπατήσει στον Βόσπορο"

Το Αγαπημένο μου κομμάτι του βιβλίου. Διαβαζοντας αυτές τις λίγες γραμμές σε μια περίοδο απελπισίας σκέφτηκα αυτό ακριβώς ότι η ζωή είναι τόσο όμορφη όταν περπατάς στο Βόσπορο. Θα έρθει η μέρα που θα περπατήσω εκεί ξανά. Το ξέρω.
Profile Image for Sahar Zakaria.
349 reviews678 followers
December 13, 2020
يفتح الكاتب التركي اورهان باموق ألبوم ذكرياته ليطل علينا ببعض ذكرياته عن مدينة اسطنبول بأناسها الطيبين ومبانيها وشوارعها وأشجارها ورحلاتها على شواطى البوسفور .. ولكنه كان يرى هذه الذكريات بعين حزينة ونظرة سوداوية منبعها خفوت نجم هذه المدينة العظيمة بعد سقوط الخلافة العثمانية.

لم يكتفي أورهان بسرد ذكرياته الشخصية عن اسطنبول ولكنه ذكر ما كتبه بعض الكتاب الآخرين عنها سواء كانوا أتراكا عاشوا فيها او غير أتراك قاموا بزيارتها في رحلاتهم وقاموا بوصفها ووصف مظاهر التغريب بها والتي أخذت تتسلل إليها تدريجيا بعد إنتهاء زمن الخلافة.

وكان أورهان في وصفه لاسطنبول حياديا إلى درجة كبيرة فكما وصف جمالها وروعتها في أغلب الأحيان وصفها أيضا بأنها مدينة مهملة وحزينة ومتواضعة في أحيان أخرى.

وذكر أورهان أيضا كيف كان يستمتع برسم شوارع اسطنبول وشواطئها والسفن العابرة للبسفور مما كان سببا في عشقه للرسم حتى تمنى أن يصبح يوما ما رساما مشهورا لولا معارضة أهله لذلك فدرس العمارة وقرر أن يصبح كاتبا.

ما يعيب الكتاب أنه ملئ بتفاصيل كثيرة ومملة لا داعي لها مما أفقده عنصر التشويق وجعله كتابا مرهقا في قراءته.
Profile Image for Chrissie.
2,811 reviews1,439 followers
November 14, 2020
Istanbul: Memories and the City by Orhan Pamuk (1952-) is an autobiographical memoir. He speaks of his life growing up in Istanbul in an apartment complex housing several generations of the large extended Pamuk family. He recounts events starting from the age of four. He speaks of his family, his schooling and his first love. Events are not told in chronological order. His decision to quit his architectural studies at university is where the memoir ends. Having lived all these years in Istanbul and now writing this memoir in the very same house where he was born, he is deeply attached to the city. In writing of his life, he must write of the city too.

Pamuk claims that the city exudes a communal melancholy (hüzün) caused by the fall of the Ottoman Empire and the establishment of the new Republic under Ataturk. This led to a dramatic shift from old established Eastern beliefs to modern, liberal Western views. The melancholy is based on a nostalgia for what is lost and gone.

He acknowledges that we are given his memories, his version of past events. He even admits that he has a tendency to exaggerate!

While Pamuk describes in great detail the emotional turmoil he experienced growing up, he does not spend many lines describing Istanbul himself. He cites instead the works of others who have depicted the city—authors, poets, journalists and artists. He speaks of Gustave Flaubert, André Gide, Vitor Hugo, Knut Hamsun, Joseph Brodsky, and the two friends Gérard de Nerval and Théophile Gautier. A chapter is devoted to Antoine Ignace Melling--in the 1800s he made engravings of the city. The writings of acclaimed Turks, whose names I do not recognize and cannot spell, are discussed in length.

I do wish Pamuk had himself described the physical attributes, the trees, the nature, the landscape, of the city. We are told the Bosporus is there outside the window. He gives us the names of streets and areas, but these mean nothing to me. Not the Bosporus, not the Golden Horn, nor are the streets and areas drawn so I can see them.

Pamuk focuses all his attention upon the so-called communal melancholy that pervades the city. There is too much focus upon this one attribute of the city.

Could not familial problems be at least partially the cause of the melancholy Orhan sensed during his youth?! His parents argued incessantly, his father was often not home and Orhan jealously competed with his elder brother for his mother’s affection. Orhan's family did not appreciate what he had written of them in this book.

Learning about what others have written of Istanbul has been interesting. Learning what it was like to be raised in Istanbul when the Republic of Turkey was still a relatively new nation captured my interest too. Balancing politics and religion was definitely a challenge. These topics interest me. I am glad to have read the book.

John Lee narrates the audiobook. He is a highly acclaimed English actor, voice actor and playwright. He reads clearly. I still had difficulty with the Turkish names. He reads in a sing-song manner. I don’t think his narration really fits this particular book. The narration I have given three stars.

Maureen Freely has translated the book into English.

****************
*Snow 1 star
*Istanbul: Memories and the City 3 stars

*Istanbul: A Tale of Three Cities by Bettany Hughes 5 stars
*Portrait of a Turkish Family by Irfan Orga 5 stars
*Birds Without Wings by Louis de Bernières 5 stars
Profile Image for P.E..
842 reviews687 followers
April 4, 2020
Le spleen d'Istanbul

Un récit croisé où le portrait d'Orhan Pamuk se confond avec celui d'Istanbul, ancienne capitale ottomane. Même traduite, la voix de l'auteur reste très atypique et son livre tient à la fois du témoignage sur Istanbul des années 50 à 80, du recueil de photographies, du récit familial, du roman urbain et national.

Ce qui m'a le plus frappé, c'est l'extrême liberté de ton et l'attention portée aux origines de cette tristesse diffuse qu'Orhan Pamuk associe à la grande ville.


Lectures croisées :
The Book of Disquiet
Dubliners
Ougarit
Rayuela
Berlin Alexanderplatz


Son :
Decks Dark - Radiohead
Profile Image for Jenny (Reading Envy).
3,876 reviews3,574 followers
July 1, 2013
Along with The World's Literature group, I have been reading a lot of books set in Turkey this year. Just check out what I've covered so far!



Istanbul: Memories and the CityBlissBirds Without WingsA Conspiracy of AlchemistsThe DervishSnowThe Dervish HousePurple Citrus & Sweet Perfume: Cuisine of the Eastern Mediterranean


One of the best known Turkish authors has to be Orhan Pamuk. I've only managed to read one book of his so far, but there are many more on my to-read list to get to. I actually think reading this autobiography/memoir first will add some understanding to any of his books that I read in the future. It covers his childhood in Istanbul, up through his college years and the moment he decides to become a writer.

While this book came out in print in 2003, this audio edition was newly released by Random House in April. I had downloaded it but was listening to another book.

Then this happened:



I was already deeply interested in Turkey, even to the point of learning some of the language and the cuisine, but following the protests and police action in Twitter made me more interested in Istanbul.

Of course, the Istanbul of this book is several decades ago, but you can see traces of a history that breeds an environment where clashes between groups are not exactly unexpected, where poverty and control have always been issues in the background. Pamuk suggests that the most beautiful view of the city is from afar. I'm not sure he really means it, because he continues to return to this concept of hüzün, or melancholy, that he claims is part of the daily lived aesthetic in the life of an Istanbullu. That those living in the city want to feel hüzün, and don't feel as alive without it.

I know Pamuk has been criticized both by the government for not being religious enough and by the public for not being critical of the government enough, but this book makes it clear that he isn't all that interested in making a statement with his writing; he wants to describe. It makes so much sense now, to see his journey from painter to writer, to understand how this plays out in his writing. His descriptions of the black and white landscape of winter is central to Snow, the one book I've read.

I've had dreams about the Bosphorus, a strait in Istanbul separating Asia from Europe. Even though I've never been there and don't have reason to dream of it, I can see why you would. His descriptions of living within view of the river, of the fires and the commerce, made me long for this place I've never experienced.

The reader for the audiobook is John Lee, whose voice is very familiar to me as the reader for Ulysses. He does a good job with the pronunciation of Turkish names, but I kept expecting him to jump into "Hoopsa, boyaboy, hoopsa!" You know you listen to a lot of audiobooks when....
Profile Image for Maziyar Yf.
655 reviews421 followers
September 24, 2021
کتاب استانبول ، خاطرات وشهر را می توان خاطرات اورهان پاموک از دوران کودکی تا جوانی خود دانست ، خاطراتی که به شکلی باور نکردنی با شرح تاریخی از استانبول در هم آمیخته است .
اگر رم را شهر جاویدان ، شهر ابدی یا شهری که همیشه بوده است می دانند ومی خوانند احتمال قوی استانبول هم تفاوت چندانی با رم ندارد ، استانبول از سالها قبل از میلاد مسیح به نام بیزانس یا بیزانتیوم وجود داشته و مردم اطراف آنرا به نام ایس تن پولیس می خواندند ، زمانی هم پایتخت امپراطوری روم شرقی بوده و نام کنستانتینوپول یا قسطنطنیه داشته و پس از فتح توسط مسلمانان به اسلام بول یا شهر اسلام تغییر نام داده و در دوران ترکیه مدرن نام فعلی استانبول بر آن گذاشته شد .
خاطرات نویسنده ازاستانبول ، دوران تغییرات مهم شهر را شامل می شود ، دوران نو سازی و مدرنیته ، زمانی که بافت قدیمی و چوبی شهر می سوخته و بناها و نمایی جدید از شهر جای ساختمان ها و محله های قدیمی را می گرفتند و همزمان نسلی جدید با فرهنگی و هویت جدید هم در حال رشد بوده است .
دگرگونی استانبول ، گویا مقارن شده است با بلوغ نویسنده ، پاموک با جسارت و روشنی از تغییرات خود سخن گفته ، تغییراتی که علاوه بر جسم پاموک ، نگرش او را هم شامل شده است .
نویسنده از نشان دادن تصویری دلنشین و توریستی از شهر پرهیز کرده ، استانبول او شهری بوده غمناک و حزن انگیز . شهری که پس از نابود شدن امپراطوری ، شهری شکست خورده و خسته به نظر می رسد ، پاموک از این روست که اندوه را در کوچه های تنگ و باریک شهر دیده ، شهر اگرچه خسته و ناامید است اما به لطف تاریخ طولانی خود دارای اراده و روح هم هست ، اراده ای که به مردمان شهر امید داده تا دوران تلخ زندگی خود را سپری کنند تا استانبول دوباره به شهری زنده و شاد تبدیل شود .
پاموک در سایه خاطرات شهر به خاطرات خود و خانواده اش هم پرداخته ، خانواده ای ثروتمند و اصیل اما رو به زوال . پدر و برادر گویی در برباد دادن ثرو�� خانواده با هم مسابقه گذاشته اند ، افزون بر آن پدر معشوقه ای هم دارد و در ابتدا اگرچه پنهان بی او می رود ولی کم کم دیگر دلیلی برای پنهان کردن رابطه خود نمی بیند . اورهان جوان علاقه ای مفرط به نقاشی پیدا کرده و همزمان عاشق دختری زیبا هم شده و شروع به کشیدن نقاشی از او می کند .
در پایان کتاب و همراه با تغییرات استانبول ، عشق اورهان هم ناکام می ماند ، اما نویسنده در خود علاقه جدیدی کشف می کند ، او به جای نقاشی کشیدن ، شروع به نوشتن کرده و مسیر زندگی خود را پیدا می کند .
استانبول ، خاطرات و شهر را شاید بتوان ادای دِین پر شور نویسنده به زادگاه خود دانست ، شهری که به او فرصت و مجال زیستن و رشد داده ، پاموک و استانبول را از هم نمی توان جدا دانست ، نویسنده تصویری بسیار زنده از این شهر رویایی نشان داده شهری که گویا او را در بر خود گرفته است ..
Profile Image for Edita.
1,531 reviews535 followers
June 23, 2020
For me, a good day is a day like any other, when I have written one page well. Except for the hours I spend writing, life seems to me to be flawed, deficient, and senseless. Those who know me well understand how dependent I am on writing, tables, pens, and white paper, but they still urge me to 'take a bit of time off, do some travelling, enjoy life!' Those who know me even better understand that my greatest happiness is writing, so they tell me that nothing that keeps me far from writing, paper, and ink will ever do me any good. I am one of those rare happy creatures who have been able to do what they most desired, and who have been able to devote themselves to that task to the exclusion of all else.
Profile Image for Usman Hickmath.
31 reviews30 followers
July 18, 2017
Major part of the book describes what some poets, journalists and painters have written or painted about Istanbul during 19th century.

But, when I picked this one up after reading My Name is Red, the expectation was to know how Pamuk describes Istanbul and his life in that city, not what some 19th century unknown travellers and century old journalists with difficult names to pronounce had to say.

There were some interesting chapters, but we do not buy a highly priced book, printed on quality paper, packaged with a lovely cover and praised by many internationally acclaimed news papers only to read few chapters.

If you have not read Pamuk's works yet -  recommend to read his other works before Istanbul: Or you may overlook some great works of a master.
Profile Image for أميــــرة.
253 reviews852 followers
August 14, 2013
ليس كتابًا هو بل موسوعة أهداها كاتب مرموق لمعشوقته "اسطنبول" فخرجت مليئة بالتفاصيل التي أدهشتني لبساطتها وصدقها وألفتها.
ومما زاد من غنى الكتاب الصور الفوتوغرافية واللوحات التي انتشرت بين صفحاته، فكان كل مشهد يصفه الكاتب تجد بجانبه الصورة المعبرة عنه، فشعرت معه أنني قطعت تذكرة سفر لاسطنبول وأنا جالسة بمكاني. وعجبتُ لكم التشابه بين مصر وتركيا، وبين اللغتين العربية والتركية.

الترجمة بديعة ولكن عابها شئ واحد وهو طول الجُمل المبالغ فيه، فتجد فاصلا بين مبتدأ الجملة وخبرها يصل لأربعة أسطر مما أربكني معظم الوقت.
May 20, 2017
Pamuk u ovom autobiografskom romanu potpuno iskreno progovara o svom životu - porodici, obrazovanju, vjeri i naposlijetku gradu u kojem je rođen i u kojem je proveo najveći dio svog života. Sve svoje uspomene on veže uz taj grad dajući tako portret Istanbula od svog rođenja pa sve do trenutka kada je odlučio da će se baviti pisanjem. Iskreno progovara o svemu što ga je tištilo, o gradu koji ga je u mladosti gušio i o prodičnim problemima, postepenom siromašenju uzrokovanim očevim lošim snalaskom u porodičnom poslu, zatim o slikarstvu, studiju arhitekture, prvoj ljubavi.
Srednji dio knjige zauzimaju podaci o piscima koje je autor smatrao vrijednim spomena. Riječ je o nekoliko poznatih turskih pisaca koji su u svojim djelima manje ili više pisali o Istanbulu. Pamuk tako pravi paralelu vremena opisanog u tim djelima i Istanbula u kojem je on proveo svoju život. Roman se proteže na 400 strana i svako poglavlje sadrži prigodne fotografije koje su za čitatelje koji poput mene nikada nisu posjetili Istanbul veoma korisne. Na njima su istanbulske ulice kroz historiju, te privatne fotografije njegove porodice, majke, oca, brata i bake kojoj je i posvetio jedno poglavlje. Zanimljiva je i nagla promjena kojom je Istanbul bio pogođen početkom XX stoljeća. Poznato je da veliko Carstvo tada polako nestaje, a stvara se Republika na čelu sa Ataturkom. Te promjene su obilježile život mnogih stanovnika Istanbula - neki od njih su neprestano patili za starim vremenima, a neki su se svim silama pokušavali približiti Zapadu.

Koliko god ovaj roman bio autobiografski on je u isto vrijeme posveta jednom velikom gradu, gradu bogate i zanimljive historije.

"Pišem zato da bi cijeli svijet saznao kakav sam ja, kakvi su ostali - mi, svi mi što smo život živjeli i što živimo u Istanbulu, u Turskoj. Pišem zato što volim miris papira, olovke i tinte. Pišem zato što, više nego bilo čemu drugom, vjerujem književnosti, umjetnosti romana. Pišem zato što je to navika i strast. Pišem zato što se bojim biti zaboravljen."
Profile Image for Stratos.
949 reviews110 followers
November 1, 2020
Με μοναδικό τρόπο ο Παμούκ μας μετέφερε την μελαγχολία της Κωνσταντινούπολης (Ιστανμπουλ). Μας "αδειασε" τη ψυχή μέσα από τα σοκάκια της πόλης, τις ενδοοικογενειακές συγκρούσεις αλλά και για τις λογοτεχνικές του αναζητήσεις, επιλέγοντας 4 Τούρκους συγγραφείς...
Καλό! Να (ξανα) δθαβαστεί!

Κράτησα την υπόσχεση και το ξαναδιάβασα!
" Η ψυχή της Ιστανμπούλ, η δύναμη της, πηγάζουν από το Βόσπορο" σελ. 83
"Θλίψη είναι το σημείο όπου συναντιούνται η ίδια η πόλη και οι αναμνήσεις από τις εικόνες της πόλης "σελ. 152. Και στη συνέχεια ο Παμούκ σε μια μονοκόμματη πρόταση διάρκειας 7 σελίδων (!!) αιτιολογεί την άποψη αυτή.
Είναι πολλ΄ς οι σελίδες που ο συγγραφέας βουτάει και αναδύεται από την θλίψη της Ιστανμπούλ. Είναι το βιβλίο που πρέπει να διαβαστεί από τους φίλους της Κωνσταντινούπολης αλλά και του συγγραφέα.
Profile Image for Dalia Nourelden.
632 reviews982 followers
Read
September 18, 2019
اسطنبول وذكريات اورهان باموق
لا يتوقف عن وصف اسطنبول ليس جمالها كما تتخيل لكن ليذكرنا دوما بحزنها وبؤسها ، تاريخها ، البوسفور ،الحرائق
بالنسبة لى استمتعت حين كان يتحدث عن نفسه وذكرياته وخاصة حبه الاول لكن حديثه عن المدينة اصابنى بالملل الشديد .
لكن اكثر مااعجبنى اسلوبه او لأكون اكثر دقة عالمه الخيالى الذى كان يخلقه احيانا ذكرنى بنفسى احيانا خاصة فى العاب طفولته بمفرده وخياله حينئذ اثناء لعبه
رغم انى حاولت ان ابدا له احد رواياته من قبل لكنى تركتها من بدايتها لكن سااحاول اللقاء بك قريبا مع احد رواياتك اورهان
وأخيرا الكتاب خلص اخيراااا 😁😁
Profile Image for Jennifer.
1,678 reviews62 followers
May 11, 2013
Were Orhan Pamuk active on Twitter back when he was writing Istanbul: Memories and the City he could have saved himself and his readers a great deal of time and frustration by simply distilling this work down to "Boo fucking hoo #firstworldproblems" and leaving it at that.

Instead, we're left to slog through four hundred pages of angsty ennui which purport to represent the zeitgeist of a city that mourns the days it stood at the center of the world but in fact do little more than chronicle the thin complaints of a wealthy man who never manages to move out of his mother's house. It would be fine if melancholy simply pervaded Pamuk's memoirs as he spun tales of his youth, but there are almost no tales told here, just endless, smothering atmosphere that reminded me of nothing so much as the narrator in David Foster Wallace's "The Depressed Person."

I took this with me to Turkey and was never so happy as when I finished and could dump it in the library of a B&B in Sirince and snag an Agatha Christie novel instead. Pretentious, self-indulgent, and almost laughably immature, Pamuk's "memoir" is best forgotten.
12 reviews5 followers
February 1, 2008
This was not, first of all, the book I espected it to be. It was not truly an autobiography of the author, who gave nothing at all away, at least in the context of the west (perhaps it would shock conservative Turks that he apparently had a sexual relationship with a girl as a young man, but I don't know what Turkish mores are, so I shouldn't judge) and gave away little in terms of the city that he was supposedly also biographying. It gave tantalising hints of things, and there were potential threads to follow, but overall, I felt that it wasn't worth the read.

The book contains pictures, but since none of them are captioned it is impossible to know why the author chose them, what point they illustrate in many cases, or who is in them in the case of the occasional family photo. It might be a very good book in the larger context of Turkish works, but I don't feel that it's very good in my context.
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581 reviews1,254 followers
July 29, 2012
Pamuk adds another layer to Istanbul’s proverbial description as “the bridge between east and west” by showing how the major Istanbul modernists – poet Yahya Kemal and novelist A.H. Tanpinar, new names to me, I have to follow up – derived a poetics of post-imperial ennui and urban decay from the melancholic image of their city recorded or dreamed by travelling French writers in the nineteenth century. “[T]he roots of our hüzün [urban melancholy] are European: the concept was first explored, expressed and poeticized in French,” he writes. And the nineteenth century French, the literary critics will tell you, were dealing with their own post-Napoleonic, post-imperial fatigue, and a Mal du siècle which made for what is called a “Late” Romanticism: dark, sexually anguished and routinely syphilitic (“The day the young writer corrects his first proofs he is as proud as the schoolboy who has just caught his first dose of the clap” - Baudelaire), as well as more perverse and pessimistic than the verdant and Liberty-extolling English variety (outcast, exiled, dark-locked Lord Byron being the founding hero, the revolting Satan for the French Romantics). I love that whole nervous crew; the Horror of Life Club, with their flamboyant despair and macabre brilliance (an 1874 entry of the Goncourt Journal begins, “Dinner at the Café Riche with Flaubert, Turgenev, Zola...We began a long discussion of the special aptitudes of writers suffering from constipation and diarrhea; and we went on to talk about the mechanics of the French language”). For such Istanbul visitors as Gautier, Nerval, and Flaubert melancholy was salutary and decadence authentic, the human norm. They relished the “Orient” for what they saw as its frank spectacles of violence and decay. Flaubert was especially taken with what he saw as the unworried kinship of pomp and squalor; writing a friend from Istanbul in November 1850, he marveled at the “splendid faces, iridescent existences that glisten and gleam, exceedingly various in their riches and robes, rich in filth, in their tatters and finery. And there beneath it all, the old immutable, perennial rascality.” – antiquity and authenticity in contrast to the European bourgeoisie’s fatuous conflation of moral and material progress, its aesthetics of engineering, its religion of convenience. When the Istanbul modernists, like all the other modernists, made their pilgrimages to the French wellsprings, they found their city already a literary image of melancholy – and just in time, what with Istanbul now the defunct capital of a fallen empire, poor, isolated, and afflicted by Westernizing republicans – a virulently progressive form of authoritarian bourgeois, in Pamuk’s picture – eager to raze the old Ottoman mansions and pour concrete Corbusian apartment blocks in their place. I thought of Baudelaire on the demolitions of medieval Paris – “the form of a city changes more quickly, alas! than the human heart.”


My favorite sections of the book were those devoted to Istanbul writers. Kemal and Tanpinar had two interesting associates, bachelor flâneurs like themselves: the Proust-like recluse Abdülhak Şinasi Hisar, and the historian Reşat Ekrem Koçu, compiler of the lurid and idiosyncratic Istanbul Encyclopedia (its entries on Ottoman torture devices and techniques thrilled young Orhan) who lived alone amid ceiling-high piles of nineteenth century newspapers and archival scraps. I love the image of a coterie of urban dreamers engrossed by a city, people for whom the layered landscape of their 2,500 year old home is a complete cosmos, the inexhaustible ground for diverse passions – creative and curatorial, novelistic and antiquarian; sexual, architectural, philosophical. (I think of Joseph Cornell reading Mallarmé after a day rummaging in New York City’s junk shops.) Pamuk is, of course, one of these writers. I was deeply impressed to read that the composition of his latest novel, The Museum of Innocence, was preceded by two decades of collecting hundreds of objects that would “belong” to the characters and figure in the book. And then he opened a real museum to display the collection. Elif Batuman in the London Review of Books:

The inspiration for the Museum of Innocence came to Pamuk in 1982, while he was having dinner with the last prince of the Ottoman dynasty. Exiled after the formation of the Turkish republic, the prince ended up in Alexandria and worked for decades at the Antoniadis Palace museum, first as a ticket collector and then as director. Now, back in Istanbul after a fifty-year exile, he needed a job. The guests discussed the delicate subject of employment for the straitened septuagenarian prince of a defunct empire. Someone said the Ihlamur Palace museum might need a guide: who better than the prince, who had lived there as a child? Pamuk was immediately taken by the idea of a man who outlives his era and becomes the guide to his own house-museum. He imagined how the prince would greet visitors – ‘Ladies and gentlemen! Seventy years ago, in this room, I sat with my aide-de-camp and studied mathematics!’ – before crossing the velvet cordon to sit once more at his childhood desk, demonstrating how he had held the pencil and ruler.

Ten years later, Pamuk came up with an insane plan: to write a novel in the form of a museum catalogue, while simultaneously building the museum to which it referred. The plot of the novel would be fairly straightforward: over many years, an unhappy lover contrives to steal a large number of objects belonging to his unattainable beloved, after whose untimely death he proceeds to buy her family’s house and turn it into a museum. You might think that Pamuk’s first step, as a writer, would have been to start writing. In fact, his first step was to contact a real-estate agent. He needed to buy a house for his future heroine, Füsun. During the 1990s, Pamuk visited hundreds of properties, trying to imagine Füsun and her parents living in them. It was beyond his means to purchase a whole building in Nişantaşi, the posh neighbourhood inhabited by Kemal, the hero of the novel. He could afford a single floor in a stone building in the old Ottoman commercial centre of Galata, but then the remodelling would be difficult...

For the next ten years, writing and shopping proceeded in a dialectical relationship. Pamuk would buy objects that caught his eye, and wait for the novel to ‘swallow’ them, demanding, in the process, the purchase of further objects. Occasionally an object refused to be swallowed, as happened with some carriage lanterns and an old gas meter. Pamuk published The Museum of Innocence in 2008. It resembles less a museum catalogue than a 600-page audio guide. A ticket printed in the back of each copy grants one free entry to the museum. By that point he had already acquired nearly all of Füsun’s belongings, so the museum could, in theory, have opened the next day. But Pamuk was worried about the example of Edouard Dujardin, the French writer sometimes credited with pioneering, in a largely forgotten text called Les Lauriers sont coupés, the stream of consciousness. Pamuk didn’t want to be Dujardin. He wanted to be Joyce. It wasn’t enough just to build the world’s first synergetic novel-museum. The museum had to be a thing of beauty. He hired a team of artists and curators and worked full time in the museum for several months, taking naps on Kemal’s bed in the attic.


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