Λοιπόν, να ξεκαθαρίσουμε κάποια πράγματα. I love Istanbul. I have been there only once, yet I almost remember every street corner, every angle and road that I walked. I say this to emphasize that this particular book is an amazing one for someone who has been looking for things about Istanbul, who has read about Istanbul, who adores everything related to Istanbul. It puts you in a process of learning other things about Istanbul. However, if you want to get a first taste of Istanbul and you don't know anything about it, it might rather confuse you more. Pamuk, while describing Istanbul that he loves so much, also describes his life and does it very beautifully, very sweetly. I will definitely read another book of his.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of dealing with Orhan Pamuk's other works, we finally managed to finish Istanbul, taking quite some time.

I have lived in Dhaka for more than twenty-five years, and for the past decade, I have wanted to dissect Dhaka in my own way. I have wanted to translate the DNA of this city from the dust of history, the fragmented memories, the columns full of daily disappointments, and the daily personal movements. And I have discovered that when we describe Dhaka, we are actually describing ourselves. A city is actually its inhabitants, and only there can people see their own reflections like in a mirror.

Remembering this very old truth, and with a very old desire to write a long and winding love letter for Dhaka, Pamuk's Istanbul was born.

Reviews also have their own genres, and this review is about nostalgia. It has been several years since the question "Why, with a nearly century-long urban history, can't we think of 'city'?" entered my language, and this book is my example. If the translation had been a little more careful, it would have received four stars, and if its illustrations had been more meaningful, it would have received five stars. "Melancholy" is what Pamuk creates. Melancholy does not belong to Istanbul; it is Pamuk's creation. He wants to fictionalize the history and life of the city.

Hopefully, one day we can think about our cities. Tabriz, which is an album of pain and history, is a boiling cauldron; Rasht and Anzali, if only they could come to words in the images of the coastal urban culture; Tehran, which with its plane trees is a witness to the birth of humanity and the new Iranian civilization; Isfahan should be read from the Afghan invasion to the present day; Shiraz with Mirza Saleh and the newspapers and the Qavam and Pahlavi families until today and the political families; Bushehr from the era of the South Police and the British and the spies and the declines of the Mullahs and the Red Port; Pahlavi Abadan and the oil that supported and nurtured cinema and literature for a decade and produced a special culture; even Gorgan, Kerman, Mashhad, Kermanshah, and Kurdistan...

Estambul is one of those ancient cities where universal history has been written in very important events that we still study today. First called Byzantium, later Constantinople, and finally baptized with the current name, it has been the capital of 4 empires: Roman, Byzantine, Latin, and Ottoman. The city is divided by the Bosphorus Strait, which in turn divides Europe and Asia; making Istanbul a city located on two continents and the point of union between the Black Sea and the Mediterranean. There is no doubt that if an interesting and projecting civilization was to be raised anywhere, it was there, in Istanbul.

But the Istanbul of Orhan Pamuk, born in 1952, is the city of nostalgia and bitterness. After the defeat in World War I, the Ottoman Empire dissolved, the current Turkey was created, and the process of westernization of the country was set in motion (not counting the transfer of the capital to Ankara). Pamuk, with this backdrop, intertwines his personal history and family tradition with the events of his city. From there, in events that seem to be connected, he tells the contagion of that bitterness of the city, in his life and in that of those around him.

But the feeling of defeat and loss of a city is a deep and long journey through the streets of Istanbul, through those landscapes towards the Bosphorus, through the universe of ships, and through the European poets and writers who came to Istanbul to tell the oriental paradigm in the 19th century, that of a mythical and ancient city, the center of a powerful and decadent imperial tradition.

Pamuk looks at the city from within and from without; he reminds us that it is a multicultural and religiously diverse city, and perhaps metaphorically, he sets that city on fire in his lines, as he himself says, "to see the last remains of a great culture and civilization burn of which they could not be legitimate heirs."

Along with The World's Literature group, I have been on a literary journey through Turkey this year. I've devoured a plethora of books set in this fascinating country. Just take a look at what I've covered so far!

One of the most renowned Turkish authors is Orhan Pamuk. I've only managed to read one of his books so far, but there are many more on my to-read list. I believe that reading his autobiography/memoir first will enhance my understanding of any of his future works. It details his childhood in Istanbul, through his college years, and the moment he decided to become a writer.

Although this book was first published in print in 2003, the audio edition was recently released by Random House in April. I had downloaded it but was occupied with another book.

Then this occurred:

I was already deeply intrigued by Turkey, to the extent of learning some of the language and cuisine. However, following the protests and police action on Twitter, my interest in Istanbul grew even stronger.

Of course, the Istanbul described in this book is from several decades ago, but you can still perceive the traces of a history that gives rise to an environment where clashes between groups are not entirely unexpected, and where poverty and control have always lurked in the background. Pamuk suggests that the most beautiful view of the city is from a distance. I'm not certain if he truly means it, as he repeatedly returns to the concept of hüzün, or melancholy, which he claims is an integral part of the daily aesthetic experience of an Istanbullu. That those living in the city desire to feel hüzün, and don't feel fully alive without it.

I'm aware that Pamuk has faced criticism from both the government for not being religious enough and from the public for not being critical of the government enough. However, this book makes it evident that he is not overly concerned with making a political statement through his writing; rather, he aims to describe. It now makes perfect sense to witness his transition from painter to writer and understand how this is manifested in his works. His vivid descriptions of the black and white winter landscape are central to Snow, the only book of his that I've read.

I've had dreams about the Bosphorus, the strait in Istanbul that separates Asia from Europe. Even though I've never been there and have no particular reason to dream of it, I can understand why one might. His descriptions of living within sight of the river, of the fires and the bustling commerce, made me yearn for this place that I've never experienced.

The narrator for the audiobook is John Lee, whose voice is very familiar to me as the reader for Ulysses. He does an excellent job with the pronunciation of Turkish names, but I couldn't help but expect him to burst into "Hoopsa, boyaboy, hoopsa!" You know you've listened to a lot of audiobooks when...

The Turkish writer Orhan Pamuk opens his memoir album to show us some of his memories of Istanbul, its kind people, its buildings, its streets, its trees, and his walks along the shores of the Bosphorus.

However, he saw these memories with a sad eye and a dark gaze, the source of which was the fall of this great city after the collapse of the Ottoman Caliphate.

Orhan did not content himself with narrating his personal memories of Istanbul, but he also mentioned what other books had written about it, whether they were Turks who lived there or non-Turks who visited it during their travels and described it and the strange scenes in it, which gradually crept in after the end of the Caliphate era.

And Orhan was very passionate in his description of Istanbul, as he described its beauty and its splendor most of the time, and also described it as a neglected, sad, and humble city at other times.

Orhan also mentioned how he enjoyed drawing the streets of Istanbul, its shores, and the ships crossing the Bosphorus, which was the reason for his love of drawing until he wished to become a famous painter one day, but for the opposition of his family to that, so he studied architecture and decided to become a writer.

The drawback of the book is that it is full of many unnecessary and tedious details, which deprived it of the element of charm and made it a boring book to read.

Neo-nostalgia

I vividly remember the Boston of my childhood, yet I recall Marblehead, a small town to the north, even better as I actually resided there. Both places had distinct sights, sounds, smells, and "feelings" that, for the most part, have disappeared like the morning fog over the Atlantic. However, anchoring all those sensory aspects of the places was history, a vast kaleidoscope of changing people, institutions, and events that shaped the then-present, the new present, and will shape the next present. I simply cannot envision Boston or Marblehead without that rich history.

Orhan Pamuk chose an unusual form to pen his profound love for his city. He weaves himself and his personal history into the narrative but completely omits any historical details. I wonder for whom he wrote this. If it was for the "western audience" he frequently refers to, there isn't sufficient history to explain why Istanbul became such a melancholic, declined, impoverished, and neglected place (at least as he portrays it). Fires, accidents, rain, snow, and the hiss of tires on old cobblestone alleys in a city that once dominated a significant portion of the world. If he wrote it for a Turkish audience, his style of describing his family and personal behavior, along with his emphasis on Turkish cultural poverty, might well turn them off. Perhaps he intended to "send a message" to those who overly emphasize "Turkishness" by frequently mentioning the now-largely-disappeared non-Muslim minorities. Maybe, but I conclude that he wrote it for himself - full steam ahead and damn the consequences. Pamuk writes about western painters and travelers and their views of the city in the 19th century and how they influenced him. He also writes about Turkish authors and their perspectives on the city, although I have never seen any of their works in translation (meaning I have no idea how they would resonate with me). I liked this approach, even though I knew nothing about those Turkish writers. What I liked best was how he describes the city itself, how he wandered around it as a child and a youth, how he immersed himself in the decay of the old Ottoman heritage before all the old mansions burned down and before concrete apartment blocks sprouted up like toadstools, sweeping away the sad wooden houses that had seen better days. I adored the chapter on the smoke from the funnels of steamships in the Bosphorus, and above all, I loved the dozens of black and white photos of bygone eras that adorn the pages. It's a world-class essay of nostalgia, presented in a very novel way.

It's an intriguing way to describe a city and write the first part of an autobiography. It's not a travelogue. There isn't a single map - as if all the readers would be familiar with the geography of Istanbul. This is not Istanbul for tourists; this is Istanbul for those who loved it (and could afford to love it) back in the Fifties and Sixties, when it hadn't been inundated by a massive influx of immigrants or refugees from the countryside and abroad, when Turkey was a poor, slow country. I saw it once, briefly then, when Pamuk was an eleven-year-old boy. The dynamic, vital, and amazing city of 2017 bears little resemblance to that other Istanbul. I understand why he wrote the book; I know a little of what has been lost. To understand that, you couldn't find a better book than this.

A truly beautiful book that took me a long time. This is my first reading of one of the works of the famous Turkish author "Orhan Pamuk", and it will definitely not be the last. I was hesitant about rating this book three or four stars, but I think it deserves the fourth star!

This book or novel - with my reservation in classifying it as a novel - is generally what I would call an autobiography of the author, like a collection of memoirs in which "Orhan" refers to the description of the stages of his life and what he experienced in his childhood, adolescence, and university life in his city "Istanbul".

It is clear from the title "Istanbul: Memories and the City" that the author's focus was on two things:

The first is the city of "Istanbul" and the melancholy it experiences after the fall of the Ottoman Empire and the enemies' talk of its downfall. The author admits the power and glory that this period was characterized by and what the fall of this state caused in terms of weakness for this city.

Orhan Pamuk says: "I did not feel in my childhood that I was living in a great global capital, but in a poor regional city." So, the melancholy of this city in this period was the orientation towards the West and the adoption of Western thought to forget what was imposed on them. So, the transition from the Arabic alphabet to the Latin alphabet occurred, and Istanbul began to lose its identity bit by bit.

Orhan says: "The French and English words on the advertising signs and posters on the facades of shops, newspapers, and works. It is truly a city that is moving towards the West, but it has not changed until now at the speed it speaks. The city cannot respect the traditions rooted in its mosques, minarets, calls to prayer, or its history. Everything is almost complete, poor, and contaminated."

He also says: "When the new republic was established after the fall of the Ottoman Empire, it was sure of its goal, but it was not sure of its identity. Its founders believed that the only way to start was to create a new concept of Turkishness, which meant a certain scope that separated it from the rest of the world. This was the end of the imperial era of Istanbul, the great Istanbul of multiple cultures and languages. The city became stagnant and turned into a mono-lingual, dull city of black and white."

The second is the reflection of these events and the decline that Istanbul experiences and the melancholy that covers this city on the life of the author. Orhan Pamuk drinks this melancholy from his city, its streets, and its neighborhoods. His city, as he sees it, is always surrounded by black and white, and only a few of them see this view, and he is one of them!

The author, in all honesty, satisfied my curiosity about some of the important landmarks in Istanbul that I often see in TV series, and it never occurred to me to look for their names and their role in the prosperity of "Istanbul".

"Like the Fatih Sultan Mehmet Bridge or the Second Bosphorus Bridge."

And the "Suleymaniye Mosque" which Orhan Pamuk described beautifully:

"The beauty I saw in the Suleymaniye Mosque lies in its lines, in the wonderful spaces beneath its dome, in the clarity of its side domes, in the proportion of its walls to its spaces, in the harmony of its pillars and small arches, in its whiteness, and in the purity of the lead on its dome. None of this can be described as a wonderful sight. I can look at the Suleymaniye and see a certain magnificence that still stands intact after four hundred years of its construction, as it was in the beginning, and I see it as its designer intended."

In contrast to the melancholy that Istanbul experiences, the "Bosphorus" was a source of life, pleasure, and happiness, as Istanbul derived its strength from it!

The author's description was precise, and he was excellent in the finest details. I was more impressed by his talk about his life and memories than his description of his city, Istanbul.

The negatives of the book:

* It lacks entertainment and excitement, and I felt bored in some parts!

* There is too much talk about the journeys of those who visited Istanbul and had a similar view of the city (the melancholy).

Great quotes from the book:

"This artificial civilization's melancholy surrounded us, and the greater the desire for Westernization and modernization, the greater the naive confidence in getting rid of all the painful memories of the destroyed empire, just as a lover throws away the clothes, things, and pictures of his lost beloved."

"It seems to me that sadness does not come from the tragic and painful story that the hero experiences or from his failure to obtain the woman he loves, but rather it seems to me more likely that the sadness that stems from the city's landmarks, its streets, and its famous sights may have seeped into the hero's heart to shatter his will."

"It seems to me that the efforts of Westernization are an attempt to get rid of things burdened with painful memories and that cause worry about the rest of the destroyed empire, especially the desire for modernity."

"Is this the secret of Istanbul, beneath its great history, its current poverty, and its attractions that look outwards, and its magnificent natural scenery? Does it hide the city's soul in a fine net from its readers? But we have come to a closed circle because everything we say about the essence of the city expresses more of our lives and our thoughts, not the city itself."

"Why should we expect a city to heal our spiritual pains? Perhaps because we can only love our city as we love our family, but we must know which part of the city we love and why we love it."

I have absolutely adored Pamuk's writing style. He is an author I have been looking forward to reading for years. His relationship with Istanbul is simultaneously his relationship with himself, his family, his student days, his first love, and his doubts about his own vocation. Nostalgia and bitterness, the two words he perhaps repeats the most in the book, inundate everything. I wish I could know Istanbul a little better to better understand some of the concepts.

Pamuk's descriptions of Istanbul are so vivid and detailed that they transport the reader right into the heart of the city. The historical and cultural references add depth and richness to the story. It's not just a novel about a place, but about the people who live there and the emotions that bind them.

I can't wait to explore more of Pamuk's works and continue to be captivated by his unique perspective on life and love. His writing has truly left a lasting impression on me, and I'm sure it will do the same for many other readers.

A beautiful memoir and a nostalgic look at Istanbul, this book is truly captivating. It is not only highly readable but also deeply poetic. It serves as an autobiography, delving into the author's childhood and the emergence of his longing to become a writer. It shows how this desire is intricately tied to his sense of melancholy. The literary references within the book are abundant and they greatly assist in helping the reader appreciate the uniqueness of Istanbul and its significant role in history. It is very likely that the next time I visit Istanbul, with the luxury of time to explore and dream like Orhan, this book will be an absolute must-have. It will serve as a guide, enhancing my experience and allowing me to see the city through a different and more profound lens.

This work is considered one of the most beautiful autobiographical or attempts to describe the author's relationship with the city where he was born, and how he struggles in an atmosphere of cultural division and the sadness resulting from his lack of harmony with his environment, whether it is his family, his city or his people. A special and distinct type of melancholy, nostalgia and overwhelming sadness is shown when the author describes the city of Istanbul and his attempt to compare this cosmopolitan city when it was the capital of the Ottoman state with its current state as a city that seems to be in the process of being forgotten, with everyone trying to erase its history and distance themselves from it and reject the coming of a distorted future from the West.

I felt envy of the author for the experiences he had in that city and his ability to remember all the events in brilliant details through photographs that documented those moments. I feel sorry because I don't have many photos of myself, my family and the places I have visited or grown up in. I wished that Naguib Mahfouz, my favorite writer, had written a similar experience about Cairo, because there is a clear similarity between the two cities and that melancholy spirit that inhabits their inhabitants and lives in every corner of them, that history that witnesses our disappointments and the grandeur of the past that we have become ashamed of.

Personal Rating: 3.5/5

The childhood memories of Orhan Pamuk and the turmoil of Byzantium, the beauty of Istanbul, and the psychological changes during the growth process all combine to make this book an extremely necessary read. However, the translation seemed a bit rough. So, I had a little difficulty fully enjoying the whole book. That's why I gave a slightly lower rating. Maybe I will read it again in English someday if I have the desire.

This book offers a rich tapestry of experiences and themes. Pamuk's vivid descriptions bring the past to life, allowing readers to immerse themselves in the historical and cultural context of Istanbul. The exploration of personal growth and the impact of historical events on individuals is both thought-provoking and engaging.

Despite the minor issue with the translation, the overall quality of the book shines through. It challenges readers to think about the relationship between the past and the present, and how our memories shape our identities. For those interested in history, culture, and psychology, this book is definitely worth a read.