A suitcase. An old leather suitcase sits in a discreet corner of a room filled with books. That was what his father left him. His legacy. And the suitcase remained untouched for a long time before he had the courage to open it. This is what Orhan Pamuk talks about in his Nobel Lecture to the Swedish Academy in December 2006. The suitcase represents the identity of a writer. Its content is full of crucial questions.

That brings to mind another suitcase. In Lyudmila Ulitskaya’s engrossing novel L'échelle de Jacob, the narrator finds the missing elements of her grandparent’s story in a suitcase her grandmother gives her before she dies. And as with Pamuk, at first she lacks the courage to open it.

In Snow, his fifth novel, suitcases appear in important moments of the story. As Ka gets off the bus, he is carrying his suitcase. Ka, the main character, is a poet living in exile in Germany. He has arrived in Kars (a town in Anatolia bordering the Caucasus) hired as a reporter for an Istanbul newspaper to cover the coming elections and investigate the recent suicides that have shocked its population. Some chapters ahead, beautiful and mysterious Ïpek, in her home at the Snow Palace Hotel, is deciding what to put in her suitcase, preparing for her long trip. Meanwhile, in his hotel room in Frankfurt, mournful Orahn Bey (our narrator) is filling his suitcase with Ka’s belongings, frustrated because he has not found the green notebook. Later, Ïpek goes to Ka’s room, takes his suitcase and sends it with an envoy to the train station. When Ka is given the suitcase, he’s vainly looking for Ïpek: she will not join him. Heartbroken, he gazes desperately through the window. And in the last chapter Orahn Bey walks carrying his suitcase to the train station. As the train leaves, the tears distort his last vision of Kars.

The novel is deeply influenced by the Russian literary tradition. In a number of interviews, Pamuk has acknowledged his admiration of the great 19th century writers, in particular Dostoevsky and Tolstoy. The concept that a novel constitutes a collection of philosophical, religious, ethical and political ideas, is very close to him. That a writer’s fundamental obligation to his time is to portrait it as best as possible, using the adequate narrative skills and tools that each writer carries in “the old leather suitcase”. And thus, the opening chapter brings to mind the beginning of The Idiot, when Prince Myshkin and Rogozhin meet while riding a train on a cold November morning. In Snow, it is not a train but a bus Ka is riding, and it is during cold and snowy February in the tip of Anatolia. And although his companion will not be an important character later on, they engage in conversation about the city where they will arrive hours later.

Another Russian writer is very much present and named throughout the novel. In his first day in Kars, as Ka is walking the snowy streets, our narrator tells us that someone is playing a melodramatic song and “it made him feel like the sad romantic hero of a Turgenev novel, setting off to meet the woman who has been haunting his dreams for years.” Pamuk is giving us a few more pieces of the plot. Ka is sad deep inside and is about to meet the woman he has secretly been in love with for years. As we learn of the lonely life he leads in his small apartment in Frankfurt, we begin to understand the motivations of the poet and his spirit that morning. And so, we learn that Ka loves Turgenev and his elegant novels and like the Russian writer, Ka is “tired of his own country’s never-ending troubles”. In Germany, he gave poetry reads to support himself. When he was not traveling, he would leave his apartment every day and walk to the local library, where he sat for hours rereading Turgenev’s novels from cover to cover. The Russian novelist is present two more times: in the Kurdish maid whose expression, half conspiratorial, half respectful, was straight out of Turgenev and towards the end, when Turgut Bey “reached shamefacedly into his pocket and pulled out a new edition of First Love, the Turgenev novel he’d translated from the French while he was in prison.”

The first time the narrator describes Ka, we learn that he is forty-two years old and has spent the last twelve years as a political exile in Germany, that he is single and has never married. His real passion is poetry. He is like those “Chekhov characters” so laden with virtues that they never know success in life. As snow continues to fall in Kars, Pamuk’s descriptions with the word COVER abound: “As the snow covered the steep mountains no longer visible in the distance; and empty snow-covered squares; ice-covered branches of the plane trees and the oleanders.” The snow that “covers” the ground is replaced by the veil “covering the head of women.” Pamuk has taken a single word and projected it into the story with incredible force. “A woman who has covered herself is making a statement”, we read during a discussion in the first chapters. In a move that enraged Islamic groups, the State had banned covered girls from the classroom. Some of these girls, feeling outraged, found in suicide the only consolation left. RELIGION is critical in the plot.

Very often, writers refer to the process of creation using all kinds of metaphors that describe the actual moment of enlightenment, or the lack of it. In Ka’s case, INSPIRATION had abandoned him. For years he had not written a single poem. As he discovered love, he also felt a transformation deep inside. The first poem, and the subsequent nineteen he wrote in Kars, came as a sudden urge that could only be satisfied by sitting down and writing what his mind dictated in that precise moment. I watched once Jorge Luis Borges describe in an interview how Kafka dictated him a poem during a dream, and how he wrote it the moment he woke up, fearing that if he didn’t, the poem would be gone forever. Ka, a day dreamer by nature, received inspiration when well awaken. All he had to do is sit and copy down the poem dictated by his mind.

An experienced writer knows that to reach a climatic section -I’m referring to a certain kind of narrative (because as we all know, each novel follows its own rules, based on its own particular architecture)- it has to be done gradually. The reader has to feel the ascending ramp, even the effort it takes to climb the steps one by one. In a 500-page novel, to reach this summit at around 30% of the way is the result of a conscious decision from the writer. Pamuk mentions very early in the story the big event taking place at the National Theater in Kars. He is following his Russian masters to the letter. Chekhov is believed to have said that if something appears in the first act, then it must reappear later in the play. In his own words “If in the first act you have hung a pistol on the wall, then in the following one it should be fired. Otherwise don't put it there.” The Russian writer’s adamant insistence on removing unnecessary or irrelevant elements that could mislead the reader is worth stressing at this point. It is the news of a performance at the National Theater that Ka reads in Serday Bey’s office in the second chapter, when he has just arrived in Kars, that stays in the mind of the reader, waiting to happen. Adding an element of magical realism, the note describes in past tense what will happen later on: “Ka, the celebrated poet, who is now visiting our city, recited his latest poem, entitled “Snow.” The already printed copy of the Border City Gazette astonishes Ka, who has not written a poem in years. Serday Bey explains:

“There are those who despise us for writing the news before it happens. They fear us not because we are journalists but because we can predict the future; you should see how amazed they are when things turn out exactly as we’ve written them. And quite a few things do happen only because we’ve written them up first. This is what modern journalism is all about.”

The event appears later, announced in posters on outside walls, and in a cable the runs through the city to be able to broadcast the event live. As we’re approaching the climactic scene, Ka is at the Snow Palace Hotel watching TV with Ïpek and her father. The moment has come. This section constitutes one of the pillars that holds the plot of the novel, the other one is a similar stage performance in the same theater, much later. Both act as axis in the structure, surrounded by all the important themes mentioned earlier: religion, inspiration, beliefs, politics, the West, provincialism, violence, solitude, love and integrity.

“If a writer is to tell his own story,” says Pamuk in his speech to the Academy, “tell it slowly, and as if it were a story about other people.” Perhaps Ka is a reflection of himself, a hint at his own solitude and suffering, or maybe Ka was his friend in real life and he is just writing his story, as he pretends in the novel. Regardless of the real facts, Snow remains a work of fiction, where I find Pamuk is in top form throughout. Narrated for the most part in third person, the novel slowly shifts to first person towards the end, as the character and narrator strangely merge. His ability to uncover hidden aspects of a character’s personality, as well as his meticulous descriptions and impressive handling of the dramatic elements of the story, are present all across the book. The way he conveys a feeling, for example, hinting only at a shadow of an idea, is remarkable. To feel the gaze of a pair of eyes and experience trembling, based only on a single line description is simply exquisite. A translation works when you don't think it is a translation and the story flows effortlessly. And this is thanks to the excellent work of Maureen Freely, who luckily, has translated other books by the author.

The whole story about his father's suitcase, in the full transcript of his Nobel Lecture:

https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/lit...

I would not have finished this book except for the fact that I was reading it for the book club. It has been an extremely long time since I have been this bored by a book. The story seemed to drag on and on, lacking any real excitement or engaging plot twists. The characters were not well-developed, and I found it difficult to connect with them on any level.

I kept hoping that something would happen to make the book more interesting, but unfortunately, that never occurred. By the time I reached the end, I was relieved to be done with it. I can't say that I would recommend this book to anyone else, as it simply didn't hold my attention or provide any real value.

Perhaps if I hadn't been required to read it for the book club, I would have given up on it much earlier. However, since I committed to finishing it, I persevered through the dull pages. Overall, it was a rather disappointing reading experience.

Ka-Kar-Kars

When I find myself in cities and places that have a connection with the books, films, and sometimes even songs that have touched me, I am filled with a sense of 'completion'. I started reading Orhan Pamuk, one of my favorite authors, years ago with "Yeni Hayat" (The New Life); I didn't want to consume his books quickly. When my trip to Kars was confirmed, the dots in my mind connected, and I wanted to read "Kar" (Snow) before going. After reading it and then going to Kars, I experienced everything one by one, as if I could see the characters on the streets.

First of all, I want to talk about the writing process of the novel. O. Pamuk - like many other authors - is an author who conducts research, observes, visits the places in person, takes notes based on the idea that emerges before writing a novel, and even carries some photos in his pocket during the novel-writing process. While writing the novel "Kar", he went to Kars 5-6 times, talked to the people living there, listened to them, and there were even times when he felt depressed because of these issues.

I understood why the author chose the city of Kars for the idea that formed in his mind when I went there. I saw what the people of Kars might have told Pamuk, their attitudes, their conversations, in short, the 'Kars tableau' as seen by an outsider.

"Kar", which the author calls his first and last political novel and has a surreal quality, starts with the bus journey that the poet Ka makes from Erzurum to Kars on a snowy day. As it progresses, the parallelism of the snow and Ka's thoughts, the possibility of a love triangle, the idea that the people encountered are as different and unique as snowflakes are intertwined with a poetic atmosphere. Also, political portraits are drawn through these people, and Ka is supposed to be influenced by them but still maintain an equal distance.

Suicide, love, political Islam, art - whose domain it is, what poetry is and how it should be, the concepts of God are being discussed.

I read some reviews and postgraduate theses. Sometimes I think that the phrase 'written with the author's imagination' should be placed at the beginning of the books. The next thought reminds me that the effort to separate the fiction from real life is actually baseless.
In fact, the fact that the criticisms are not about the political nature of the novel but about the fact that it does not reflect the reality also shows the difficulty of separating the fiction from real life. And at this point, the most tragi-comic criticism comes: What is told shows our city of Kars badly, Kars is not such a place.
When all these are not deeply and thoroughly thought about, generalizations are made about the people, the author's mind is attacked by defending the necessity (!) of art being for and towards society, certain political thoughts are put forward, propaganda is made, and even further, it is said that the author does not know how to use the Turkish language. All these made my head hurt when I read them.

I want to make a quote that can summarize everything:
' Maybe we have come to the heart of our story. How possible is it to understand someone else's pain, love? How much can we understand those who live in deeper pains, voids, hardships than us? If understanding means being able to put ourselves in the place of those who are different from us, have the rich, the rulers of the world, known the millions of poor people on the margins? How much could the novelist Orhan see the darkness in his poet friend's difficult and painful life?
'I have spent my whole life suffering like a wounded animal with a strong sense of loss and deficiency. Maybe if I hadn't hugged you so tightly, I wouldn't have made you so angry in the end, and I wouldn't have returned to where I started, losing the balance I found in twelve years.' Ka had written. 'Now I have that unbearable feeling of loss and abandonment again in me, and it is piercing everywhere in me. I sometimes think that the deficiency in me is not only you, but the whole world.' he had written. I was reading these, but did I understand?'

Important note: If you are reading Orhan Pamuk for the first time, do not start with "Kar".
In this city of Kars, where I learned - albeit late - like Ka that the only truth in life is happiness, someone walked with me like Ka on the streets in the novel and took my picture by finding the building on the back cover for me. It once again proved to me the existence of the snowflake that is everyone's inner map.

In 2015 and at the beginning of 2016, especially when I set off towards Kars, I started to read.

I was looking for the places in the novel where the feelings of snow, Kars, sadness and abandonment were felt in the streets of Kars.

The train station, the Karadağ Hotel, some of the tea stoves, the 400-year-old bridge, the hamam and the houses it mentioned were in place, but I couldn't find the Yeni Hayat Pastanesi.

For me, it is a book that smells of my hometown. And surely it also smells of sadness...

This journey of mine was not just a physical one but also a mental exploration into the world created by the novel.

As I walked through the streets of Kars, I could almost imagine the scenes described in the book unfolding before my eyes.

The snow-covered landscapes added to the melancholy atmosphere, making it even more in line with the emotions portrayed in the story.

Although I couldn't find the specific pastanesi, the overall experience of being in Kars and trying to connect with the novel was truly unforgettable.

It made me appreciate the power of literature to transport us to different places and evoke such strong emotions.

For my three favorite Orhan Pamuk books, my choices are very firm: The Black Book, The Museum of Innocence, and My Name Is Red. Besides these, the other books I have read, although there are some that I really liked in them, could not even come close to displacing these (for example, Cevdet Bey and His Sons or The Silent House). I even thought that The Red would force this ranking. What a stupidity.

Let me make a little disclaimer first: What I am going to say shortly is not a "rule" or the definite result of an academic study, but entirely my personal opinion. In my opinion, Orhan Pamuk writes his most beautiful narratives always in the books where the central character is a "rich white male". The bachelor man from a rich family in Nişantaşı, wealthy, indifferent, bourgeois, between young and middle-aged. For "most" writers, it is actually a valid thing to write what they know best. But when reading Orhan Pamuk, I feel this difference very clearly. There is a serious difference in feeling when reading his books that are like this and those that are not. I get engaged or I can't get engaged. I had guessed that this book also adhered to that rule. It adheres a little but also tries to get out of it and couldn't completely get out; again, when I feel that it couldn't completely get out, he added himself as a character to the novel... He couldn't completely choose where he would stand politically, his mind was confused. And at that time, it was difficult to even find it understandable. Now this stance -sorry but- annoyed me. He tried to do something unrealistic -or quasi-unrealistic- but these were only comic, even absurd. It is a chain of non-events for me, that is, the book.

Still, when he gets himself engaged; that is, I am talking about the parts that are very obvious that he wrote with a great inspiration in one sitting; when he gets himself engaged, he wrote very beautiful parts. But I got tired of constantly saying "hah, it happened probably after this" and coming face to face with that mental confusion again. In surprise and unhappiness, I put this book on the shelf of Pamuk's books that I don't like in my mind.

Some disjointed thoughts below. I will straighten them out later to write a coherent review of this very exciting novel.

Nearly all low-rated reviews complain about cardboard characters and their singular fixations, considering it a deep flaw in the novel. However, this is by design. They are character types created to map the logic of the conflict between Westoxified Kemalist secularism and regressive Islamist fundamentalism in contemporary Turkey through brutal satire. Sunay Zaim, the theatre actor, symbolizes the former; Blue, the alleged terrorist on the run, represents the latter. They are caricatures of comical proportions, and everything they do attests to that. In between, we have Ka, the poet-journalist, who has returned to Kars and is embroiled in a thrilling chain of events that will end in disaster. Then there is the lead female character, the beautiful and divorced Ipek, who serves as a symbol for Turkey in how she is used and discarded by competing parties for their own ends.

It is not easy to endure Pamuk's stunningly repetitive improvisatory monologues. His going on and on has the effect of spinning in concentric circles, shrinking it to a dot while simultaneously the narrative spins so fast that everything will spill out and crash against your irises. This novel is a bit of a mindfuck, but a mindfuck I loved!

I also believe that one's lack of insider familiarity with Turkish culture and history is not an obstacle. The bit of history Pamuk has utilized, in the context of Kars and some events that provide a background to the antagonism between Islamists, Kemalists, and Kurds, is sufficient for the story. The emphasis is on the sum total of the comical - the illogical, the absurd, and even the hilarious. For example, 1) girls committing suicide in droves due to a ban on hijab! Sunay Zaim, the dedicated Kemalist, blowing up the theatre and massacring the audience just so he can lay the blame on the Islamists and prove they are brutal killers! The pious fundamentalist with puritanical ideas having an illicit love affair with a woman! And the closing scene on stage in the theatre, which ended with Kadife shooting Sunay, was brilliant in how it merged fiction and reality.

I think Pamuk has done an outstanding job with what he set out to do. The fact that everything in its complexity occurs in just three days clearly indicates that it is not intended to be a realistic novel. It is an allegory with a Kafkaesque twist. Margaret Atwood was spot-on when she called it "essential reading of our times." Its novelty felt a little dangerous. But it was undoubtedly a 5-star novel.

Superba is an extraordinary word that holds a certain allure. It implies a sense of magnificence, grandeur, and superiority.

When we think of something as superba, we envision it as being outstanding in every aspect. It could refer to a person with remarkable qualities, such as great beauty, intelligence, or talent.

Alternatively, it might describe an object or a place that is truly magnificent, like a superba mansion with its luxurious interiors and sprawling grounds.

The word superba can also be used to describe an event or a performance that is simply breathtaking. It suggests a level of excellence that leaves a lasting impression on those who experience it.

In conclusion, superba is a word that encapsulates the idea of something being truly remarkable and worthy of admiration. It evokes a sense of awe and wonder, and it is a word that can be used to describe the very best of the best.

This book truly turned out to be a disappointment.

It was essentially quite boring, with the love stories presented in an immature manner.

The most interesting aspect of the book was perhaps the fact that the author interjects himself into the novel at the end.

Also, the way he manages to get by without writing poetry by having Ka's manuscript lost was rather unique.

The motif of snow and how it is maintained throughout the book is indeed appealing, and so is the insight into Turkish culture that it provides.

However, none of these positive elements are sufficient to overcome the plodding and drawn out pace of the book.

The slow progression makes it a rather tiresome read, and it fails to hold the reader's attention as strongly as it could have.

Overall, while there are some redeeming features, the book as a whole falls short of expectations.

A political exile and poet, Kemal, known by the pseudonym KA, returns to Turkey from exile in Germany for his mother's funeral.

He also travels to the forgotten Anatolian town of Kars to cover the pre-election campaign as a correspondent for a daily newspaper and write about the interesting case of the increased number of suicides among young boys.

Meanwhile, the town is blocked due to a snowstorm, and in such conditions, rallies begin. Political and extreme Islamism, passionate Kurdish nationalism, discussions about the "veiling" of women, a botched state coup - all of this has found a place on these five hundred-odd pages, interspersed with a love melodrama, perhaps to make it more palatable.

However, the plot in this novel is not in the foreground, nor was it, I must admit, the most interesting to me. This is, I would say, a novel-idea that Pamuk used to bring to light all of these aforementioned problems that haunt modern Turkey (which, it seems, is increasingly sliding into extremism).

Through the characters, he tries to see different positions and give each of them the opportunity to justify their stance, which, of course, does not mean that extremism is justified.

\\"No one can understand us completely\\", yet a little insight can be gained into the Turkish mentality. I feel as if half of January has passed in Kars. Politics, religion, love, traditions, alcohol, and poverty are mixed in a unique cocktail with all the dominant and isolating snow.

It is a complex and multifaceted situation that defies easy comprehension. The snow seems to symbolize both the beauty and the harshness of life in this place.

The intertwining of various elements creates a rich tapestry that is both captivating and challenging.

To truly understand the essence of this experience, one must explore further and delve into the details.

The link provided offers a more in-depth look at this fascinating topic.

https://gramatas.wordpress.com/2017/02/07/sniegs-orhans-pamuks/

Reading as someone outside the Islamic culture and knowing nothing about Turkish politics at all, the last hundred pages are really beautiful. It is a novel that tells a story that one wants to stay in. And the short story on the back cover still hasn't covered the real main issue of this story. I admit the low details of the plot and applaud.

However, to truly understand and appreciate this work, more background knowledge and in-depth exploration are needed. We can start by learning about the Islamic culture and its influence on various aspects of life in Turkey. This will help us better understand the characters' behaviors, thoughts, and motives in the novel.

In addition, studying Turkish politics can also provide valuable insights. By understanding the political system, historical events, and social issues in Turkey, we can better grasp the context in which the story takes place and the significance behind the plot.

Overall, although the initial reading may leave us with some questions and a sense of incompleteness, further exploration and learning can enhance our understanding and enjoyment of this novel.

Orhan Pamuk steps into the chaotic world of politics.
He tells the reality with its contradictions, difficulties, and both real and fabricated appearances.
Pamuk moves between the conflicting political and ethnic currents in Turkey.
The secularists, the Islamists, the military, and the Kurds.
Each current gathers its followers in the face of the others, according to different beliefs and interests.
The events unfold in the city of Kars, which the poet "Ka" reaches during the period of the local elections.
And with the snow falling on it for several days, the desolate city is caught between the snow and the military coup.
Through the characters with their different affiliations, Pamuk addresses the changing intellectual identity.
And the religious identity between faith and heresy.
And the individual aspects of love, poetry, and happiness in the reality of poverty, despair, and oppression.
The novel is remarkable and unique in its dialogue and the construction of the narrative in which the author presents himself.