2007; 366 pages. New Author? : Yes. Genre : Turkish Literature; Historical Fiction. Overall Rating : 9*/10.
Say hello to Asya Kazanci. She’s a Turk, lives in Istanbul, and is the
daughter of Zeliha Kazanci, whom she calls “Auntie”. She doesn’t know who her father is, nor does
anyone else except Zeliha, who isn’t telling.
Say hello to Armanoush
Tchakhmakhchian. She’s an Armenian-American
who splits her time between Tucson, where her American mother, Rose, lives; and
San Francisco, where her Armenian dad, Barsam, lives. Rose and Barsam are divorced.
The odds of Asya and Armanoush
ever meeting are very slim, since neither one has ever visited, nor has any
plans of visiting each other’s country.
And if somehow that happened, the odds of them — one a Turk, the other an
Armenian — becoming friends are even slimmer.
But since they’re the two main
protagonists in The Bastard of Istanbul, I’m
betting they'll somehow overcome those long odds.
What’s To Like...
The book's title is explained early on and
is brutally straightforward: if you’re a fatherless-child in Istanbul, you will be labeled a
bastard. Asya copes with this relatively
well, but her family situation is still weird. The men in the Kazanci clan all die
at an early age, mostly in their early 40s.
Thus Asya grows up among a group of "Aunties", including one who’s actually her
mother. Armanoush's family situation is also weird; she's surrounded by
Aunties when she’s in San Francisco, and when she in Tucson, she's the typical rebellious teen, resenting both her mother and her stepfather, Mustafa, Rose’s second husband, and who’s a Turk, not an Armenian.
With one exception, the
eighteen chapters in the book all have a food, spice, or grain heading (Cinnamon, Garbanzo Beans, Wheat, Orange Peels, etc.),
each of which somehow get worked into the chapter’s events. The lone exception is the last chapter, which
has a chemical title, Potassium Cyanide. It would be a spoiler to reveal how that
figures into the story.
The story is set in two time periods: 2005 (the present) and 1915, and three places – Istanbul,
San Francisco, and Tucson, with present-day Istanbul being the predominant one. I chuckled at the climate description of
Tucson (“the weather in Arizona is always nice,
you know, nice and sunny”). I
live in Arizona, and can assure you that our “sunniness” is NOT nice
when the daytime high temperatures are above 100°F, which is about the half the
year.
I thoroughly enjoyed getting a
feel for daily life in Istanbul, including doing things such as: listening to Madonna and Johnny Cash on the radio,
fishing from a bridge while holding an umbrella when it’s raining, taking ballet
classes, smoking pot and wearing hippie skirts, going to tattoo parlors, and drinking milk from glass bottles or having a cherry-vanilla diet coke. I
also learned how to foresee my future via tarot cards and/or pouring lead, and protecting myself via evil-eye beads..
The storyline held my
interest, and Elif Shafak’s writing style delighted my vocabulary tastes in three different languages: Turkish, Armenian, and English, with a few examples given in the next section. I learned about Milan
Kundera and Mesrop Mashtots,
the recipe for Ashure, and how
funerals are different in Turkey compared to here. I also liked the way Elif Shafak worked a “is
it natural or supernatural?” aspect into the story, via a pair of
djinni that are at Auntie Banu’s beck and call.
The ending is good and features a twist or two
to keep you on your toes. Justice prevails, although it isn't meted out by heavenly agents. The Bastard of Istanbul is a
standalone novel without a sequel, although I for one would really like to know
more about what comes next in life for Asya and Armanoush. According to Wikipedia, the book was originally written in English, despite Elif Shafak being Turkish. I’m in awe of anyone who can
write a bestselling novel in their “second language”.
Kewlest New Word ...
Simit (n., Turkish) : a crispy sesame-seed
coated bagel.
Others: Konak (n., Turkish); Dipsomaniac (n.); Mordant
(adj.); Concomitantly
(adv.), Bolshie
(adj., British); Odar (n.,
Turkish); Oluevi (n., Turkish).
Ratings…
Amazon:
4.2/5
based on 1,437 ratings and 359 reviews.
Goodreads: 3.86/5 based on 44,393
ratings and 4,853 reviews
Excerpts...
“What are you listening to?” Armanoush
asked loudly.
“Huh?” Asya shouted, “Johnny Cash!”
“Oh, sure!
What are you reading?”
“Irrational Man: A Study in Existential
Philosophy,” the same loud, steady voice replied.
“Isn’t that a bit irrational too? How can you listen to music and concentrate
on existential philosophy at the same time?”
“They square perfectly,” Asya
remarked. “Johnny Cash and existential
philosophy, they both probe the human soul to see what’s inside, and unhappy
with their findings, they both leave it open!” (loc.2858)
“Look, the Armenians in the diaspora have
no Turkish friends. Their only
acquaintance with the Turks is through the stories they heard from their
grandparents or else from one another.
And those stories are so terribly heartbreaking. But believe me, just like in every nation, in
Turkey too there are good-hearted people and bad people. It is as simple as that. I have Turkish friends who are closer to me
than my flesh-and-blood brother. And
then there is, of course” —he lifted his glass and signaled toward Auntie
Zeliha — “this crazy love of mine.” (loc.
3726)
Kindle Details…
The
Bastard of Istanbul sells for $9.99 at Amazon right now. Elif
Shafak offers nine other e-books in English, ranging in price from $9.45
to $13.99. Eight of them
are novels, the other one is a non-fiction book, titled Black Milk.
“The oppressor has
no use for the past. The oppressed has
nothing but the past.” (loc.
3810)
I can't think of anything to gripe about in The Bastard of Istanbul, but I love reading both historical fiction in general and Turkish literature in
particular. But prospective readers
should know that, although the cussing is light (just
12 swear words in the first 50% of the book!), a number of non-cozy
themes are encountered, including rape, abortions, suicide, divorce, incest,
and Armenian-Turkish relations.
That last one may sound ticky-tacky,
but it isn’t. In the book’s
“Acknowledgements” section, Elif Shafak writes:
“Between
the Turkish edition and the English edition of this novel in 2006, I was put on
trial for “denigrating Turkishness” under Article 301 of the Turkish Penal
Code. The charges that were brought
against me were due to the words that some of the Armenian characters spoke in
the novel: I could have been given up to a three-year prison sentence, but the
charges were eventually dropped.”
For the record, I thoroughly
appreciated the amount of attention given to issue of Turkish-Armenian
relations in The Bastard of Istanbul.
I was aware of its historical causes, but had no idea it was still such
a divisive topic today.
9 Stars. I have one other novel by Elif Shafak on my Kindle, The Architect’s Apprentice. I was worried that I’d find The Bastard of Istanbul too "romantic" for my reading tastes, but that turned out to not be the case. I think I'll go look for more of her books at my local bookstores.
