Dread, yearning, identity, intrigue, the lethal chemistry between
secular doubt and Islamic fanaticism-these are the elements that
Orhan Pamuk anneals in this masterful, disquieting novel. An exiled
poet named Ka returns to Turkey and travels to the forlorn city of
Kars. His ostensible purpose is to report on a wave of suicides
among religious girls forbidden to wear their head-scarves. But Ka
is also drawn by his memories of the radiant Ipek, now recently
divorced. Amid blanketing snowfall and universal suspicion, Ka
finds himself pursued by figures ranging from Ipek's ex-husband to
a charismatic terrorist. A lost gift returns with ecstatic
suddenness. A theatrical evening climaxes in a massacre. And
finding god may be the prelude to losing everything else. Touching,
slyly comic, and humming with cerebral suspense, Snow is
of immense relevance to our present moment.
Dread, yearning, identity, intrigue, the lethal chemistry between
secular doubt and Islamic fanaticism-these are the elements that
Orhan Pamuk anneals in this masterful, disquieting novel. An exiled
poet named Ka returns to Turkey and travels to the forlorn city of
Kars. His ostensible purpose is to report on a wave of suicides
among religious girls forbidden to wear their head-scarves. But Ka
is also drawn by his memories of the radiant Ipek, now recently
divorced.
Amid blanketing snowfall and universal suspicion, Ka finds himself
pursued by figures ranging from Ipek''s ex-husband to a charismatic
terrorist. A lost gift returns with ecstatic suddenness. A
theatrical evening climaxes in a massacre. And finding god may be
the prelude to losing everything else. Touching, slyly comic, and
humming with cerebral suspense, "Snow is of immense relevance to
our present moment.
Orhan Pamuk's novel
My Name Is Red won the 2003
IMPAC Dublin Literary Award. His work has been translated into more
than twenty languages. He lives in Istanbul.
1.
Almost immediately after the novel opens, the narrator speaks in
first person directly to the reader and concludes his interjection
of Ka's "biographical details" with the statement: "I don't wish to
deceive you. I'm an old friend of Ka's, and I begin this story
knowing everything that will happen to him during his time in Kars"
[p. 5]. Later, during his report of Ka's conversation with Necip,
the narrator says of Necip, "With a childishness that amazed Ka, he
opened his large green eyes, one of which would be shattered in
fifty-one minutes" [p. 134]. With these direct statements of the
narrator's foreknowledge, what happens to the fictional conventions
of plot and suspense? How does learning that the narrator's name is
Orhan, and that he's written something called The Black
Book [p. 425], affect the reader's reception of the
story?
2.
Ka's mood at the beginning of the story is dreamlike and
nostalgic: "As slowly and silently as the snow in a dream, the
traveler fell into a long-desired, long-awaited reverie; cleansed
by memories of innocence and childhood, he succumbed to optimism
and dared to believe himself at home in this world" [p. 4]. Does Ka
remain in this state of optimism and seeming innocence throughout
his stay in Kars? As an exile, he is moved by a sense of returning
home; does he make a mistake by believing himself at home enough to
become involved in the affairs of Kars?
3.
While Ka and Ipek are having coffee in the New Life Pastry Shop,
they witness the murder of the director of the Institute of
Education. Discuss the conversation between the Institute director
and the young man who has been sent to assassinate him [pp. 38-48].
What are the elements that make the scene so effective?
4.
The brief history of Kars on pages 19-21 describes a place at
the crossroads of "two empires now defunct," which has seen
"endless wars, rebellions, massacres, and atrocity." Despite Kemal
Atatürk's westernizing ideology (reinforced brutally by the
military), Kars is sunk in poverty and hopelessness; its
bourgeoisie has fled. Muhtar says, "The city of Kars and the people
in it-it was as if they weren't real. Everyone wanted to die or to
leave. . . . It was as if I'd been erased from history, banished
from civilization" [p. 53]. How has the town's history shaped its
inhabitants' ideas about themselves and their future?
5.
Ka's conversations with Muhtar, Blue, the boys from the
religious high school, Sheikh Efendi, and Kadife [chapters 6, 8, 9,
11,13] explore the gap between traditional Islam and Western
secularism. How do these conversations affect Ka's sense of his
spiritual condition? How strongly does he need to identify himself
as a secular intellectual, and why is the possibility of his own
belief in God, which he admits to, so unsettling to him?
6.
Karl Marx said, "Hegel remarks somewhere that history tends to
repeat itself. He forgot to add: the first time as tragedy, the
second time as farce" [The Eighteenth Brumiare of Louis
Bonaparte]. In the novel's most farcical and tragic
moments, theatrical impresario Sunay Zaim and his allies the
military police stage their own intervention in the history of
Kars. Does Pamuk, in these episodes so central to the story, seem
to share Marx's pessimism?
7.
Blue tells a story from the ancient epic
Shehname: "Once upon a time, millions of people
knew it by heart. . . . But now, because we've fallen under the
spell of the West, we've forgotten our own stories" [p. 78]. What
does he imply when he asks Ka, "Is this story so beautiful that a
man could kill for it?" [p. 79]
8.
At least three different perspectives are given on the suicide
girls. The deputy governor tells Ka, "What is certain is that these
girls were driven to suicide because they were extremely unhappy. .
. . But if unhappiness were a genuine reason for suicide, half the
women in Turkey would be killing themselves" [p. 14]; Ipek says,
"The men give themselves to religion, and the women kill
themselves" [p. 35]. Kadife argues that women commit suicide to
save their pride [p. 112]. Does the novel provide an answer to the
mystery of why women are killing themselves?
9.
Speaking with Muhtar, Ka says, "If I were an author and Ka were
a character in a book, I'd say, 'Snow reminds Ka of God!' But I'm
not sure it would be accurate. What brings me close to God is the
silence of snow" [p. 60]. Why does the snow make Ka think of God?
How do Ka's thoughts about his own religious beliefs change
throughout the novel?
10.
In getting involved with the various factions in Kars, does Ka
act on his own behalf, or as the pawn of others? Is he actually,
and knowingly, a double agent? As the plot progresses and Ka is
moving back and forth between rival groups, what becomes most
confusing? Does the reader's experience mirror Ka's spiritual and
moral bewilderment?
11.
When he travels to Kars, Ka enters another world: "Raised in
Istanbul amid the middle-class comforts of Nisantas . . . Ka knew
nothing of poverty; it was something beyond the house, in another
world" [p. 18]. In the meeting at the Hotel Asia, a Kurdish boy
says, "I've always dreamed of the day when I'd have a chance to
share my ideas with the world. . . . All I'd want them to print in
that Frankfurt paper is this: We're not stupid, we're just poor!
And we have a right to want to insist on this distinction" [p.
275]. Later, Orhan asks, "How much can we ever know about love and
pain in another's heart? How much can we hope to understand those
who have suffered deeper anguish, greater deprivation, and more
crushing disappointments than we ourselves have known?" [p. 259]
Why are these statements so central to the problems of empathy and
ethics presented in the novel?
12.
Does the epigraph from Dostoevsky-"Well then, eliminate the
people, curtail them, force them to be silent. Because the European
enlightenment is more important than people"-sum up the West's
arrogant approach to fundamentalist political movements? How is it
relevant to the events in Kars?
13.
Everyone in Kars watches television constantly; they even use
the television to watch the coup as it takes place just outside
their doors. Given the deliberately theatrical nature of the coup,
the uncertainty as to whether the soldiers' bullets are real, and
Sunay's death onstage during the second performance, what does
Pamuk suggest about the relationship between history and fiction,
reality and illusion?
14.
Does Ipek love Ka, or does she still love Blue? Does she betray
Ka by not going to Frankfurt with him [pp. 388-90]? In an unsent
letter, Ka wrote to Ipek, "I carry the scars of my unbearable
suffering on every inch of my body. Sometimes I think it's not just
you I've lost, but that I've lost everything in the world" [p.
260]. Was it foolish of Ka to think that he would be able to have
the happiness that love provides? Why does Ipek decide not to go to
Germany with him?
15.
"Once a six-pronged snowflake crystallizes, it takes between
eight and ten minutes for it to fall through the sky, lose its
original shape, and vanish. . . . Ka decided that snowflakes have
much in common with people. It was a snowflake that inspired 'I,
Ka'" [pp. 375-76]. The poems that Ka writes in his green notebook
while in Kars (kar means "snow") align with the points on a
snowflake. These poems, however, are never recorded in the novel.
How seriously should a reader take Ka's efforts as a poet? What is
the significance of the fact that the poems are not available to
the reader, but instead we have a novel called
Snow?
16.
In several of his novels, Pamuk has created characters who are
doubles or alter egos. Here he gives us Ka and the narrator as well
as Necip and Fazil. Late in the story, the narrator follows Ka's
trail on a reading tour through various German cities; he wished
"to do exactly as Ka had done on his own tour seven weeks earlier.
. . . I would wander through the cold empty city and pretend I was
Ka walking the same streets to escape the painful memories of Ipek
" [p. 378-379]. Upon following Ka's trail to Kars, he notes, "I
shouldn't want my readers to imagine that I was trying to become
his posthumous shadow" [p. 380]. What do these statements
imply?
17.
How is Kadife different from her sister Ipek ? What motivates
her to go onstage and bare her head in Sunay's play? Is she a
devout Muslim, or is wearing the headscarf simply a costume
necessary for her love affair with Blue?
18.
Reexamine Necip's story [pp. 104-7] once you've reached the end
of the novel. Has Necip's tale foreseen the revelations about the
narrator and his love for Ipek, as well as Fazil's marriage to
Kadife? How does Necip live on after his death? How does Ka?
Orhan Pamuk Reader's Companion
Orhan Pamuk was awarded the Nobel
Prize for Literature in 2006, the first Turkish
author to receive the award. He is the overall bestselling author
in his homeland and his books have been published in more than
fifty languages. This guide is designed to help you explore Pamuk's
world and writings, whether your group chooses to read all of his
works or to focus on his acclaimed novels or engaging nonfiction
titles.
Born in Istanbul in 1952, Pamuk grew up in a well-to-do,
Western-oriented family. As a child he attended private schools and
dreamed of becoming an artist. He began his studies at Istanbul
Technical University in architecture, but at the age of twenty-two
switched to journalism, taking the first step in his career as a
writer. Pamuk's first novel, Cevdet Bey and His
Sons, the story of three generations of a Turkish family,
was published in Turkey in 1982. The White Castle,
the first of his novels to be translated into English, takes place
in seventeenth-century Constantinople (as Istanbul was then called)
and explores the meeting between East and West, a theme that recurs
throughout Pamuk's writing career. The White
Castle also introduced a deeper, more personal interest,
one that imbues in his works of fiction and nonfiction alike: the
relationship between dreams and reality, memory and
imagination.
In his early years as a writer, Pamuk spent five years in
residence at Columbia University, where he now holds a position as
a visiting professor. In the autobiographical profile he wrote for
the Nobel Prize committee, Pamuk reflected on his time as a
visiting scholar at Columbia and the influence that had on his
evolution as a writer: "I was thirty-three years
old . . . and asking myself hard questions about who
I was, and about my history. . . . During my time in
New York, my longing for Istanbul mixed with my fascination for the
wonders of Ottoman, Persian, Arab, and Islamic culture" (copyright
© The Nobel Foundation, 2006). For much of those five years, Pamuk
devoted himself to writing The Black Book, a
strikingly original novel that weaves multiple voices and beguiling
stories about Istanbul, past and present, into a modern-day
detective story.
In his next novel, The New Life, Pamuk once again
transformed the conventions of mystery into an intellectual
adventure, creating a world in which a mysterious book, a fleeting
romance, and conspiracies real and imagined wreak havoc on a
university student's life and his sense of identity. Set in the
sixteenth century, My Name Is Red revisits
Turkey's rich and complex Ottoman past in a fascinating tale about
the impact of Western art and aesthetics on an Islamic society that
stifled individual creativity and strictly prohibited the creation
of representational paintings.
As Pamuk's fame grew throughout the 1990s, journalists in Turkey
and abroad looked to him for elucidation on the political situation
in his homeland and its relations with the West. Troubled by the
changes occurring in Turkey, Pamuk wrote Snow, his
first overtly political novel. A thought-provoking, witty, and
balanced portrait of the rise of political Islamism,
Snow was widely read and discussed in Turkey and
became an international bestseller. The Museum of
Innocence, Pamuk's newest work of fiction, examines the
nature of romantic attachment and the mysterious allure of
collecting as it traces a wealthy man's lifetime obsession with the
lower-class woman he had loved and abandoned as a young man.
Collected essays, articles, and autobiographical
sketches
Now in his late fifties, Orhan Pamuk lives in Istanbul in the same
apartment building he grew up in. His deep attachment to the city
is beautifully captured in Istanbul: Memories and the
City, a combination of childhood memoir and journey into
Istanbul life through his own eyes and those of painters and
writers (including European visitors like the German artist
Antoine-Ignace Melling and the French writers Gérard de Nerval and
Gustave Flaubert); enhanced with photographs, it illuminates the
personal and artistic influences on his work. Other
Colors showcases the range and depth of Pamuk's interests.
There are short, lyrical pieces about his personal life collected
under the apt and intriguing title "Living and Worrying"; critical
essays on literary figures such as Dostoevsky, Camus, Nabokov,
Vargas Llosa, and Rushdie, along with assessments of several of his
own novels; and commentaries on a wide variety of political and
cultural matters. A captivating collection, Other
Colors provides fresh insights into the mind and
imagination of one of today's most notable writers.
A political drama and the recognition of Pamuk's
contributions to literature
In an interview with a Swiss newspaper in February 2005, Pamuk
denounced the Ottoman massacre of millions Armenians in 1915 and
the slaughter of thirty thousand Kurds in Turkey during the 1990s.
His comments caused a furor in Turkey: several newspapers launched
campaigns against him and he was officially charged with the crime
of "publicly denigrating Turkish identity." Facing death threats,
Pamuk moved abroad. He returned to face a trial and the possibility
of three years of imprisonment; the charges were dropped on a
technicality in January 2006. The incident reverberated
internationally, highlighting the conflict between anti-European
nationalism in Turkey and the government's campaign to join the
European Union. It exposed, as well, the simmering distrust of-and
sometimes blatant hostility toward-Muslim populations in the United
States and Europe.
In awarding Orhan Pamuk the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2006,
the Swedish Academy said, "In the quest for the melancholic soul of
his native city, [Pamuk] has discovered new symbols for the clash
and interlacing of cultures." Pamuk's Nobel Prize acceptance
speech, "My Father's Suitcase" (Other Colors,
pages 403-17), offers a more personal explanation of why he became
a writer and what he hopes to accomplish:
It was only by writing books that I came to a fuller
understanding of the problems of authenticity (as in
My Name Is Red and The Black
Book) and the problems of life on the periphery (as
in Snow and
Istanbul). For me, to be a writer is to
acknowledge the secret wounds that we carry inside
us. . . . My confidence comes from the belief that
all human beings resemble one other, that others carry wounds like
mine-that they will therefore understand. All true literature rises
from this childish, hopeful certainty that all people resemble one
another.
For discussion
1. Have Pamuk's books changed your
perceptions of Turkey? What insights do they offer into the
country's history and place in the world?
2. Have his books given you a deeper
understanding of the Muslim world? Have they altered your opinion
about the current situation in the Middle East and other parts of
the world where Islam is the dominant religion? Have you become
more or less sympathetic?
3. Pamuk's novels range over a wide span
of time, from the sixteenth century (My Name Is
Red) to the present day (Snow). Compare
your reactions to the historical novels and the contemporary works.
Which do you prefer and why?
4. In these books what impact do the
tensions between Eastern and Western beliefs and customs have on
individual lives, on the relations between classes and ethnic
groups, or on political debates? What competing ideologies (or ways
of thinking) affect the characters' behavior and emotional
responses? Consider the ethical, religious, and social dilemmas
individuals face and how they resolve them.
5. Snow is prefaced by
epigraphs from Robert Browning, Stendahl, Dostoevsky, and Joseph
Conrad. How does each of them apply not only to
Snow, but also to the other Pamuk books
you have read? Citing specific passages, how would you characterize
the author's feelings about Western attitudes toward the Muslim
world?
6. What role do perceptions-or
misperceptions-about Islamic law and religious customs play in the
assumptions Westerners make about Muslims? Are there current
controversies in the United States or Europe that support your
view?
7. Do Pamuk's depictions of the
relationships between men and women conform to your impressions of
romance, marriage, and family life in a Muslim society? How are
women presented in the historical novels? In what ways do the women
in the novels set in the present (or in the recent past) embody
both traditional female roles and the new opportunities they have
to express their opinions and act on their beliefs?
8. Istanbul opens with
an essay about Pamuk's feelings as a child that "somewhere in the
streets of Istanbul . . . there lived another Orhan
so much like me that he could pass for my own twin, even my double"
(page 3). Many reviewers, including John Updike, Christopher
Lehmann-Haupt, and Charles McGrath, have written about what McGrath
calls "an enduring Pamuk preoccupation: the idea of doubleness or
split identity" (New York Times, October 13, 2006). Can
you find examples of doubleness in the books you have read, and if
so, what do these add to the story? What insights do they reveal
about Pamuk's own sense of identity?
9. What techniques does Pamuk use to
bring his characters, real and fictional, to life? How do his
descriptions of settings, manners, and other everyday details
enhance the portraits he creates? What use does he make of humor,
exaggeration, and other stylistic flourishes in his depictions of
particular situations, conversations, musings, and arguments?
10. Pamuk employs many of the literary
devices associated with postmodern and experimental fiction.
(McGrath, for example, notes his use of "narratives within
narratives, texts that come alive, labyrinths of signs and
symbols . . ."). In what ways do his books echo
Italo Calvino's allegorical fantasies? What do they share with the
writings of Jorge Luis Borges and other magical realists? What
aspects of his literary style can be traced to earlier masters of
innovative fiction like Kafka and Nabokov?
11. In an essay on the Peruvian writer
Mario Vargas Llosa in Other Colors, Pamuk writes,
"It is clear . . . that there is a sort of narrative
novel that is particular to the countries of the Third World. Its
originality has less to do with the writer's location than with the
fact that he knows he is writing far from the world's literary
centers and he feels this distance inside himself" (page 168).
Discuss how this manifests itself in Pamuk's own works, as well as
the works of Vargas Llosa and other authors writing from the Third
World. Are there creative advantages to living and writing "far
from the world's literary centers"?
12. Pamuk writes in
Istanbul of authors who left their
homelands-Conrad, Nabokov, Naipaul: "Their imaginations were fed by
exile, a nourishment drawn not through roots, but through
rootlessness" (page 6). If you have read the works of these
writers, or other authors in exile, do you agree that their books
reflect-in style or in content-the effects of living in a new,
foreign culture? To what extent is Pamuk's writing rooted in the
storytelling traditions of Eastern cultures? In what ways does it
show the influence of his early exposure to Western literature, his
participation in international literary circles, and his longtime
association with American academia?
13. Despite the many differences between
the societies Pamuk describes and our own, why do his characters
and their behavior resonant with contemporary English-speaking
readers? Are there aspects of Turkish mores that make it difficult
to sympathize or engage with the characters in the novels? Do these
factors also influence your reactions to his autobiographical
pieces, literary criticism, and cultural observations in both
Other Colors and Istanbul?
14. How does Pamuk's personal history,
as well as the plots of some novels, mirror the complicated history
of Turkey? Consider such topics as: the decline and dissolution of
the once powerful Ottoman Empire; the sweeping changes initiated by
Atatürk in the 1920s; the conflicting desires to preserve Turkey's
distinctive heritage and to become more active in the global
community; and the rise of fundamentalist Islam throughout Middle
East today.
15. In discussing the importance of
novels, Pamuk says, "Modern societies, tribes, and nations do their
deepest thinking about themselves by reading novels; through
reading novels, they are able to argue about who they are"
(Other Colors, page 233). Do you agree? What can novels
provide that nonfiction books and other media do not?
Suggestions for further reading
Paul Auster, The New York Trilogy; Jorge Luis Borges,
Collected Fictions; Italo Calvino, Invisible
Cities; Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss; Fyodor
Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground; Umberto Eco,
Foucault's Pendulum; Franz Kafka, The Castle;
James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man;
Milan Kundera, Immortality; Naguib Mahfouz, The Cairo
Trilogy; Gabriel García Marquez, Love in the Time of
Cholera; Vladimir Nabokov, Ada; V. S. Naipaul,
A Bend in the River; Marcel Proust, Remembrance of
Things Past
Pamuk's works are available in Vintage paperback editions (listed
here in order of their first translation into English): The
White Castle; The New Life; My Name Is Red;
The Black Book; Snow; Istanbul;
Other Colors; The Museum of Innocence
(For a complete list of available reading group guides, and to
sign up for the Reading Group Center enewsletter, visit
www.readinggroupcenter.com)
From the acclaimed author of My Name is Red, comes a spellbinding tale of disparate yearnings--for love, art, power and God--set in a remote Turkish town, where stirrings of political Islamism threaten to unravel the secular order.