The setting of this novel is truly captivating. Kars, a city in a remote corner of Turkey, once boasted a glorious past but now finds itself rather marginal and gloomy. Isolated from the world by a snow blizzard, it becomes the stage for some dramatic events over the course of a couple of days. This immediately reminded me of the city of Oran in Albert Camus' La Peste, and through the snow, also of the Davos in Thomas Mann's Magic Mountain. What's more, in Kars, we witness a famous Turkish poet, Ka, wandering around, rather spineless in the face of events. This makes the parallel with Franz Kafka's Das Schloss abundantly clear.

There is indeed some action in this work, including a military coup with numerous casualties. However, it is primarily a "talking" novel. Pamuk delves deep into the almost endless Turkish discussions regarding the country's own identity - European or not? - and the place of religion in society - Kemalism versus the rising Islamism. This requires a certain knowledge of Turkish affairs, to be sure, but it is presented in a highly interesting manner, especially in light of the islamophobia in the West after 9/11. The novel jumps from one discussion to another, with varying participants, which demands some stamina from the reader, but it is well worth the effort. Admirably, Pamuk offers no simplifications or caricatures, from either side. On the contrary, both atheists and islamists often express doubts about their beliefs or positions, both grappling with existential loneliness. The common thread throughout these disputations is the ambiguous attitude all the protagonists have towards Europe, or the West: a combination of attraction and repulsion. Needless to say, the characters in this novel are burdened with numerous inferiority complexes, making it a highly instructive read.

With "Snow", Pamuk not only presents a highly political novel but also reveals a clear postmodernist side. There is a reflection on what writing is and what meaning art can bring in the real world. After all, we see how Ka, in Kars, suddenly pulls 19 poems from his sleeve after years of creative drought. In this way, he can give a place to everything he experiences. Moreover, there is the story of Ka himself, his wanderings between Kemalists and Islamists, his relationship with the stunning Ipek, and the associated hope and suffering. Pretty soon in the novel, we learn that this story is being told by a friend of Ka, a fellow writer. But it is only at the end that we realize that this presumed objective narrator has filled in a large number of elements himself, especially regarding the inner life of Ka. This explains why the character of Ka makes such a volatile impression and regularly switches from one opinion to another.

So, it is truly remarkable how Pamuk manages to bring all these layers together. Nevertheless, I am not completely overwhelmed. The verbosity of the novel can sometimes be excessive, some scenes are absurdly theatrical, the endless wanderings of Ka really push the patience of the reader to the limit, and some elements have been developed rather weakly, such as Ka's puppy love for Ipek and the character of Ipek herself, as well as the other female figures. Overall, this is definitely a great novel, but it does have some flaws. I still enjoyed reading it, though. (3.5 stars)

Finally, I had to abandon this 123-page book.

I was initially disappointed because what began as a truly interesting novel, written by a Nobel winner no less, about the political clashes between the European west and various political factions in Turkey (depicting the "Islamists" versus the "secularists" in the book), unfortunately devolved into an almost Faulkner-like stream-of-consciousness and dreamlike narration. The dialogue was so tiresome that it wore me out.

I find it hard to believe that this group of sanctimonious teenagers would get so worked up about wearing headscarves as political statements in the Mideast these days. But, okay, whatever. I could suspend my disbelief, except for the fact that I had to try to decipher the ridiculous conversations that made up the silly banter among all the characters. Who talks in metaphors and anecdotes with such philosophical underpinnings? Come on. I understand that there are obvious cultural and language differences here, and some meaning and depth might be getting lost in translation. However, I still have a hard time believing that anyone anywhere really talks like this.

Snow, a novel by the 2006 Nobel Prize (Literature) winner Orhan Pamuk, translated by Maureen Freely, explores the human confusion in recognizing the existence of God and seeking true love amid the conflict between radical Islamic thought and Western ideas of freedom.

Set in a small town in the mountainous region of Kars, tucked away in eastern Anatolia, Turkey, the novel features Kerim Alakusoglu, better known as Ka, a poet who was a political exile in Germany for 12 years and returns to his homeland to reclaim memories.

Under the pretext of reporting for a newspaper in Istanbul on the tragic epidemic of suicides among veiled women and the local elections, Ka tries to hide his true desire to reunite with his former classmate, Ipek.

The heavy snowfall in the Kars mountain region not only creates a nostalgic and melancholic atmosphere in the novel but also serves as a backdrop to the important events in the story, namely the coup by the Sunay Zaim Theater Group, which supports the secular ideology of Ataturk.

This is because the coup takes place during a period when Kars is cut off from the outside world due to the snow blocking the roads into the town, thus giving a mysterious atmosphere to various issues such as the Islamic-secular conflict, the wearing of the veil, poverty, suicide, and military interference.

The coup is marked by a theatrical performance of a classic script, My Fatherland or My Head Scarf, which triggers outrage among students at a religious school as it shows a scene of a female actress removing her veil and then burning it.

This is followed by a scene that leaves a lasting impression on the reader when soldiers storm the stage, firing live ammunition at the audience who think it is part of the play, resulting in bloodshed and the arrest of many students from the religious school.

The novel brings Ka into contact with many characters with their own unique personalities, such as Blue, a charismatic extremist; Necip, an idealistic student who dreams of becoming a world-famous science fiction writer; Kadife, a female leader of the veiled; and Sunay, the theater activist who stages the coup.

Interestingly, the novel uses two perspectives. Ka drives the main plot of Snow, while the second perspective is presented by the author through the character of Ka's close friend, Orhan, who tells Ka's story in the form of a report.

Orhan seems to be reading Ka's notes throughout his stay in Kars and also has the mission of obtaining the green notebook that contains 19 of Ka's poems written while in the town but lost after his death.

This work by last year's Nobel laureate seems to confirm the confusion that surrounds Turkish society, including unfounded fears of Islam, the stubborn preservation of Ataturk's secular ideology, and the longing to be accepted by Europe.

There are books that, in addition to being captivating due to the fluidity and prowess of the narrative, also offer a sense of implicit wisdom and belonging. This book falls into that category. It may seem redundant for this review to state this, considering the renowned dexterity of the Nobel-awarded author. However, the sensibility discerned during the redaction was a surprising contentment.

Although the topics covered by the book are quite complex to elaborate on in a novel (for example, the social perception of religion, dogmas, and customs experienced by a hesitant participant), Mr. Pamuk has delivered an intelligently shaped piece of writing. Here, a smartly defined characterization and a brilliantly managed time-line provide, at its core, a sense of identity to the reader.

The story, narrated by a third party, tells the downfall of Ka, a middle-aged poet. He returns to his city of birth with the initial intention of researching the case of a group of suicidal girls related to a veil-banning policy. However, he ends up on a deepening voyage of self-realization and awareness of his secluded community.

It is an enjoyable read, with beautifully described Turkish sceneries within a historic setting that offers a social critique of current relevance. This includes the role of women in a struggling Islamic society and the quandaries of a community facing opposing western mentalities.

Snow

Orhan Pamuk's novel "Snow" is a profound meditation on multiple aspects such as Religion, Poetry, Love, Gender relations, and Politics. It is indeed a difficult and challenging work. While the author himself characterized it as a political novel, it encompasses far more. From the book, one can learn about Turkey and its politics, but what truly moves is the author's reflections on issues that transcend the politics of a particular place.

The story revolves around a man named Ka. Raised in a secular home in Istanbul, Ka is 42 and unmarried when the narrative begins. He has just returned from a 12-year political exile in Frankfurt, Germany, to attend his mother's funeral. In Istanbul, he arranges to visit the border Turkish city of Kars. His purposes include covering the upcoming local elections (as the mayor of Kars has just been assassinated), investigating a series of suicides among young Muslim women, and attempting to rekindle a romance with a beautiful woman named Ipek, whom he knew as a student and who has recently divorced. Ka is a poet. During his years in Frankfurt, he never learned German but continued to write in Turkish. However, he had been unable to compose poetry during his final four years there and had no romantic involvements.

Ka's story is told in the voice of a writer named Orhan, creating a sense of distance and irony. Orhan describes himself as a novelist and an old friend of the poet. He visits Kars four years after the death of his friend and relays the tale. Ka spends only three days in Kars before returning to Frankfurt, but this short time is eventful for both the city and the protagonist. He witnesses a murder in a cafe and a coup in which the military takes control of the city and suspends the elections. He has a brief sexual encounter with Ipek. Although a secularist, he becomes drawn to religion and meets with a Shiek. He also has fateful encounters with a charismatic Islamic terrorist, Blue, with whom Ipek and her younger sister Kadiffe have had romantic involvements. Perhaps most significantly, Ka finds himself able to write poetry again. In his few days in Kars, he composes 19 poems in bursts of inspiration, all but one of which he writes in a faded green notebook.

During Ka's visit, Kars is in the midst of a three-day snowstorm that isolates the city. The falling snow is a crucial symbol in the book, appearing in nearly every chapter with multiple meanings. It symbolizes silence, isolation, loneliness, cold, purity, innocence, sadness, and more. Ka becomes captivated by the six-sided figure of the snowflake. The individuality of each snowflake becomes emblematic of the human condition for him. When he returns to Frankfurt, he devises an elaborate symbolism for classifying the 19 poems he composed in Kars based on the six sides of the snowflake. Another pervasive symbolic object is the dog, both as a family pet and a stray. Dogs are seen on the streets, eliciting affection and compassion.

Ka's short and complicated love affair with Ipek lies at the heart of the novel, as he hopes she will return with him to Frankfurt. However, this hope is shattered by Ka's own weaknesses and ambivalences, along with politics and chance. When he returns to Frankfurt, he becomes a lonely and alienated figure, unable to write poetry, wandering the streets and addicted to pornography. Four years after his return, he is murdered under circumstances suggesting political motivation.

"Snow" has much to offer in its long discussions about the search for God, the nature of creativity, and the need for love. Pamuk's treatment of these universal human themes is carefully intertwined with his particularism, as he delves into the streets, places, and people of Kars. He also focuses on the complex political situation of Turkey, torn between the desire to become part of the European community and retain its religious, Muslim character. Secularism and religion are represented in the book in several ways, not just by two diametrically opposed groups. The tension in the local political situation becomes a symbol of the range of choices that individuals in all cultures must face as part of being human.

This book has received a variety of reviews on this site. It is a slow and difficult work that may not appeal to everyone. However, for those readers with a penchant for philosophical and religious reflection, "Snow" is an outstanding novel.

Robin Friedman

I have to admit,

I threw in the towel on this one. If I heard the word 'headscarf' one more time--or God--I would have started gibbering.

I truly despise the star system used to rate great literature. This book was that maddening combination of beautiful, evocative, breathtaking writing, and a story that I simply couldn't force my way through.

On one hand, it's almost irrelevant whether I "liked" it or didn't "like" it. Objectively speaking, it was a beautiful and powerful book.

And yet, despite its many literary merits, I was never fully caught up in any of it. The only parts that really engaged me were the description of the snow, the town of Kars itself, and the tea house where the Director of Education gets shot.

Perhaps I'll come back to it again for another try. I would give it 5 stars for the writing, which was truly outstanding, and 3 stars for my level of interest in the story and characters.

So, all in all, that leaves me with a 4-star rating and an "interrupted" status.

I hope that on my next attempt, I'll be able to fully appreciate the story and characters as much as I do the beautiful writing.

It is not often that as I close the pages of a book, I am overcome with emotion and find myself in tears, yet such was the case with the literary fiction masterpiece by Orhan Pamuk, Snow.

This internationally renowned writer meticulously delves into the collision of Western values with Islamic fundamentalism. Published in 2005, this prescient work could easily have been written today. Its truths are timeless, encompassing disparate yearnings for love, art, power, and God.

With an omniscient narrator, we are introduced to Kerim Alakusoglu, known as Ka, who has returned to Istanbul after many years of political exile in Germany. Ka, a well-connected poet, first attends his mother's funeral and then travels to the remote, impoverished town of Kars near the Armenian border. There, a seemingly endless snowfall, the most severe in memory, isolates the town from the modern and westernized world. Nationalists are fomenting hatred and tension, and Kars feels increasingly cut off from reality.

In addition, a spate of suicides among young women forbidden to wear their headscarves has ignited political and ethnic debate. Ka is also drawn into the turmoil of a military coup aimed at restraining local rebels. Amidst this chaos, Ka is reunited with his beautiful former schoolmate Ipek, and he entertains the possibility of a romance and her accompanying him back to Germany as his wife.

Previously blocked in his art, Ka is now inspired by the poems that come to him in this snowbound corner of Turkey. He records them in his green notebook, along with numerous notes about his experiences and the people he meets. The last of his nineteen poems is titled "The Place Where the World Ends." The snow is a powerful metaphor throughout the book, representing cleansing, silence, obliteration, and sleep, while also revealing the beauty and mystery of creation.

Orhan Pamuk offers a profound understanding of people in this book, allowing us to feel the yearnings, fears, and sadness of the characters, as well as their hope. This may be why Pamuk was awarded the Nobel Prize in 2006.

The quotes from the book further enhance its themes. As the traveler watches the snow fall, he succumbs to a reverie, cleansed by memories of innocence and childhood. The sight of snow makes one think of the beauty and brevity of life and how, despite their differences, people have much in common. Snow seems to cast a veil over hatred, greed, and wrath, bringing people closer together.

Overall, Snow is a captivating and thought-provoking novel that explores complex themes with depth and sensitivity.

After reading other novels by Orhan Pamuk, I dedicated this year to discovering this remarkable Turkish pen. I return to this review to change the rating because it is one of the novels dear to my heart. It stands out for Orhan's style and because the novel is complete in terms of characters, plot, existential questions, and the issues raised. I was about to give it five stars, but the ending of the novel with the victory of secularism made me reduce the rating to four stars, and it is described as

It took me nearly 2 months to read this book. Many times, it felt like a chore to pick it up and continue. However, there were some truly brilliant moments that kept me going, especially as I approached the last 50 pages. I'm glad I persevered because the ending really made sense. Pamuk managed to firmly implant the political message, such as "Turkey is in search of its own identity as a nation," in the minds of his readers.

But which country isn't grappling with the question of its identity? Even the Philippines faces this dilemma. Maybe it's just a matter of perspective. The story centers around Ka, an exile poet from Frankfurt who returns to Turkey to look into the reported suicides of young girls in his hometown, Kars. While there, his past relationship with Ipek, a childhood sweetheart, is reignited. The complication is that Ipek has been married and divorced and is now in love with another man, the rebel Blue, who is also involved with Ipek's sister, Kadife. This four-sided love story unfolds against a backdrop of suicide, assassinations, and a coup by a disgruntled theater troupe. All of this takes place amid the heavy snow, which is described so vividly in the first part that I felt I was missing out by living in a tropical country. Then, of course, there's Orhan Pamuk, the character in the book who narrates the entire story and, at times, directly addresses the readers to explain what's happening. Towards the end, he retraces Ka's life, and I absolutely loved that part. It was as if Ka's story was about to begin again with Orhan Pamuk, or perhaps Ka and Orhan Pamuk are one and the same. It's a brilliant storytelling technique that I haven't seen in the 300+ books on the "1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die" list that I've read so far.

What I didn't like about the book were the long, repetitive parts about wearing or not wearing head scarves. I understand that this is a significant issue for Muslim people, but I just couldn't relate to it. Shame on me, I guess. I also thought the theater scene was a bit corny. If it had been turned into a more intense and violent coup and killing, like the Fall of Saigon, it would have been more enjoyable.

Overall, I still liked this book. It gave me a better understanding of Turkey as a country, and I'm happy to have tried and finished an Orhan Pamuk work. Maybe this isn't his best, but I have a friend who is raving about "My Name is Red," so perhaps I should read that one later this year.

My Repetitive Story and Pamuk's Books

My story with Pamuk's books starts like this. I'm going to have several days of extreme joy and flight elevation. But when I get closer and closer to the last pages of the book, a strange sadness fills the background of my thoughts. I think that this case is also closed, and in other words, "wan mor lis". In the next stage, to soothe the mentioned sadness, I say to myself, "Keep your peace, he is still alive and continues to write."

Is it a trick from Franz Kafka's hand?!

When we sit in the bus with "Ka" on the first pages of the book and are moving towards Kars, the name of the main character, Snow, seems astonishing. If you have read one of Kafka's attractive and yet unfinished books, you will encounter the name "Ka" several times on each page! For example, "Ka" is living his life in the trial, and everything is normal passing by, but suddenly everything turns upside down, and we never understand why the story ends with his strange death. But it seems that "Ka" accepts this change over time, and in the end, he is just waiting for the execution of the sentence.

I had previously pointed out in the review of the book "Black" that Pamuk chooses names for his characters in such a way that each one either refers to a certain subject or reminds the reader of a special meaning. So, surely, he has a special intention in choosing the name "Ka" for the character Snow, and we must move forward with the story.

Of course, in the introduction, the translator also mentions the harmony of "Ka", "work" (Snow), and "Kars", which unfortunately, this beauty is lost in the Persian language.

Kemal, who seems strange with his own name, uses the first letter of his name as a pseudonym, "Ka". "Ka" is a relatively famous poet, and at the same time, the political vacuum in Turkey forces him to flee to Frankfurt, Germany, for 12 years because of his political activities that the government doesn't like. But the death of his mother becomes an important excuse for him to return to Turkey and Istanbul and start a new period of his life. In Istanbul, he learns a strange and painful news that several girls in the small town of Kars committed suicide. On the other hand, soon the elections for the new mayor of Kars will be held, and more importantly, Ka's love of many years, Ipek, also lives in Kars and has recently divorced her husband and helps her father in the management of the hotel. Ka decides to go to Kars to write several articles about the suicides and the elections and to try his luck again to get Ipek. With Ka's peaceful entry into Kars, heavy snow starts to fall, and the roads in and out of Kars are blocked. Ka, who seems to have lost the ability to write new poems for several years, with his entry into Kars, miraculously and surprisingly, is filled with a torrent and excitement of new and multiple poems in his mind. In the first hours of his walking inside the city, he manages to meet Ipek in a café, but in the same café, the dean of the university, who has been preventing the veiled girls from entering the university, is killed by an unknown person who is surely from the radical religious Muslims, and the first domino of the strange events falls. These events reach their peak with the children, which put everything under the spotlight, and...

In all of Pamuk's stories, the political conditions and the criticism of this chaotic situation play a crucial role. Although Pamuk himself doesn't consider himself and his stories very political, but about Snow, the subject is more different and clearer. All the events that have an impact on the course of the story have a political theme, and even the emotional relationships of the characters in the story are no exception to this feature. Turkey, which has always been involved in the duality of the East and the West or, in other words, is wandering between Europe and Asia but is eager to be considered among the Europeans, and "Ka" is also a version of Turkey involved in this turmoil.

And now, "Ka", who has lived among the Europeans for years, must investigate and write about the girls who lost their lives because of keeping their veils. One of the most important features of Pamuk's pen is that the characters in the story constantly grow along the way, and the more we move forward with them, the clearer this matter becomes. "Ka", who is introduced as a completely atheist person at the beginning, but gradually this certainty fades away.

In some parts of the book, there is also a mention of Iran and its revolution, and although it is painful, the mention is in such a way that Turkey should not move on a path that turns it into the second Islamic Republic in the world!

Several points!
Snow has not had a satisfactory translation for years. But after this long time, those who have been waiting for it can now read this translation with peace of mind.
It is recommended that if you have not read a book by Pamuk before and want to get acquainted with this writer, start with a book other than Snow because this lack of acquaintance may cause you not to get the expected pleasure. Leave Snow at the end of Pamuk's list. If you want to start with Snow, at least have an initial search about that period of Turkey, Imam Hatip schools, and the city of Kars, which will be very helpful to you in the course of the story.
Mr. Pamuk himself is also present in the story and even falls in love!
Pamuk's writings, while being very touching and understandable for us Iranians, have not been very popular and to everyone's taste until now. There are also many reasons for this, such as some people's belief that quality literature can never be found in Turkey, which is completely wrong. Pamuk's books are written in such a way that perhaps the story only forms 20 percent of the content of the book and is full of dialogue, discussion, history, politics, art, or, better to say, a collage of everything that is possible. So, it is relatively bulky and slow to read, and some parts need more review and thought and are not just a book for filling spare time.

9th of Aban, 1380

Kerim Alakusoglu, the poet we know as Ka, finally returned to his hometown of Kars in a car after a long time away with the political asylum in Germany. In the following few days, the small town of Kars was completely cut off from the world. Why? Because day and night, only snow was falling there without stopping. In Turkish, snow is called "kar", so it's the story of a few days of Ka in the town of Kars among the "kar".

Although he is a poet, Ka can be said to have returned to his hometown to do a kind of journalism. A girl committed suicide because she was forced to take off her headscarf under the pressure of the college authorities (it's better to say that, and the opposite story also came out in this novel), and Ka came to investigate this. After that, the poet went back to the grave of his former classmate Ipek, for whom he was once very weak. Alongside these two, the leader of the Islamic movement, Blue, Kadife (Ipek's sister), and several other characters become important enough in the story. Pamuk himself was also once drawn into the story, leaving the reader astonished.

I have mentioned Pamuk's language somewhere before. His prose is amazing, and even among the confusion of being grasped and released, he is very noble and worthy of appreciation. Whether this praise has reached Pamuk's ears or not, who knows? If not, why did he pay so much extra attention to the language in "Snow"? However, whenever he picked up the pen and wrote in his native prose, both comfort and happiness were found.

The snow-covered paths are joined by cafes, theaters, halls - in short, all the necessary elements for a small town to pass the day. Like the story of a detective's investigation, Pamuk has staged real murders several times in the middle of a stage play. At the same time, he has embellished the novel with all the glamorous issues - the struggle for the rights of the Kurds in Turkey, the opposition between the secular and Islamic ideological movements, the headscarf, and suicide. Although it's beautifully arranged, so far, it has nothing to do with our fourteen-year-old affairs. However, when the contractor vows that a single flyover will eat up the entire capital, no one in Istanbul will object to testifying - Pamuk has caused quite a stir in the flyover incident of getting lost on the road.

Pamuk's portrayal of the intricate and often precarious balance between secular and religious fanaticism in modern Turkey is an enthralling tale. It is presented from a quasi-autobiographical perspective, similar to DFW's The Pale King. The story follows the (mis)adventures of the exiled poet Ka as he returns to a town he visited in his youth, located near the Armenian and Georgian borders of eastern Anatolia. The characters are depicted in a deeply engaging way, and there is an abundance of action and events. One is astonished at the relatively short time span covered by the events in the book. Although it is mainly a narrative, it provides crucial insights into the struggles against radical Islam and is even more relevant today in the wake of the failed coup in Turkey in July 2016.