The Black Book (Paperback) by Orhan Pamuk - Reviews, Discussion, Bookclubs, Lists

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The Next Best Boo...: How many unread books do you have at home?	398	537	04/13/2009 08:45AM

03/06/08

Adam rated it:

Read in April, 2008

A man’s search for his wife and her journalist ex-husband becomes intertwined with the latter’s bizarre articles/columns turning this book into a bewildering hall of mirrors of Dostoevsky styled feverish monologues, storytelling sessions like a Dinesen or Potocki tale, and Borgesian labyrinths of history and literature (and fake detective tale). Each chapter is its own unit; a short story, mock essay, or monologue. This book is exasperating, annoying, thrilling, and provocative at different ...more

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03/29/08

Rafael rated it:

Otro libro negro

Este no es el de Papini, llamado así porque está escrito en una época que el mismo Papini, calificó de negra; la de la segunda guerra mundial. Este segundo libro negro está escrito por Orhan Pamuk y son más de 600 páginas de desafiante lectura de tristeza y soledad. Su negrura es la del dolor del autor que pierde a su mujer. Está construido alrededor de este hecho, la desaparición, huida, partida o pérdida de la mujer, no explicada, en una carta que deja al ma...more

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08/12/08

Chandbibi rated it:

Galip, a young lawyer from Istanbul, goes home one day to find that his wife, and half cousin, Ruya, has disappeared. Her disappearance seems tied to the simultaneous vanishing of his cousin, and Ruya's half brother, Celal, a famous columnist for Istanbul's daily Milliyet. Through his search for Ruya and Celal, Galip wanders the city, slowly finding himself absorbing the identity of Celal - wearing his clothes, living in his house, and eventually writing his columns. The bare bones of any sort o...more Galip, a young lawyer from Istanbul, goes home one day to find that his wife, and half cousin, Ruya, has disappeared. Her disappearance seems tied to the simultaneous vanishing of his cousin, and Ruya's half brother, Celal, a famous columnist for Istanbul's daily Milliyet. Through his search for Ruya and Celal, Galip wanders the city, slowly finding himself absorbing the identity of Celal - wearing his clothes, living in his house, and eventually writing his columns. The bare bones of any sort of traditional narrative end here, because the rest of the book is a mosaic of story, history, commentary and meditation.

A review in the Guardian seems to suggest that The Black Book is essentially a whodunnit. I find, however, that in this book, especially, that Pamuk is one of the most engrossingly literate writers that I have read. Pamuk is amazing for the breadth of his knowledge and the sheer scope of the book- he touches on history, on philosophy, on the art of writing a daily column, on writing per se, and religion - all in the context of a tight, intimate family dynamic. The context is overwhelmingly Turkish,and I am certain that much of the richness of the narrative is lost on people like me who are unfamiliar with Istanbul, and Turkish culture. At times it seems as though the city itself is a looming, living presence over Galip in his desperate search for Ruya, and the violently political context of Istanbul is a feature both in the lives of Pamuk's characters and in Celal's deliberately provocative writing.

The narrative occurs primarily in the voice of Galip, and is interspersed with Celal's columns, that sometimes contribute, and occasionally obfuscate the narrative itself. One of the remarkable things about this book is that one could read Celal's columns entirely outside the scope of this book, and it would not diminish their value as engaging, and powerful writing. When The Bosphorus Dries Up, for instance, is one of the most stark dystopian visions to emerge from current literary scenario - a graphic, minutely detailed and haunting vision of a stark future. In that sense Pamuk transcends the use of the columns as a literary device, and takes them beyond supporting the narrative to perhaps creating the structure that holds the plot together.

Pamuk weaves in a number of recurring motifs - the Thousand and One Nights, for instance, (the mild similarity that could be drawn to this book itself mustn't go unnoticed), the cinemas of Istanbul, the role of dreams ('Ruya' apparently means 'dream' in Turkish). Most of all, the thread that runs through the book relates to questions of identity. In his Nobel acceptance speech Pamuk talks about the struggle for authenticity in both My Name Is Red and the The Black Book. When struggling to accept his father's identity as an author, and consequently understand his own fears of not being authentic, Pamuk writes, "For me, to be a writer is to acknowledge the secret wounds that we carry inside us, the wounds so secret that we ourselves are barely aware of them, and to patiently explore them, know them, illuminate them, to own these pains and wounds, and to make them a conscious part of our spirits and our writing. " The fear, that despite being human, one's writing will lack what is essential and common to all, is one that Pamuk evokes in Celal's recurrent self-exploration and pontification, in Galip's assumption of Celal's admittedly shaky identity, and on a broader level, in the question of a Turkish identity amidst castigation of 'aping the West'. The terrible, and beautiful story of the mannequin maker, in one of Celal's columns, is perhaps the clearest symbolic representation of the struggle that Pamuk is trying to depict.

I read My Name Is Red a couple of years ago, and loved it, but found Snow excessively abstruse and difficult to read. The Black Book reaffirms my initial impression of Pamuk as an absolutely remarkable writer. Comparisons to James Joyce, to Pynchon, and especially to Paul Auster abound, but I do not think there is any denying that he is one of the most original, and interesting writers of current times.(less)

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03/30/08

Martin rated it:

Read in May, 2008

This was the first book I have read by Orhan Pamuk...apparently, it is not his best known...described as a "cult classic" by the Times Of London...and it appears to have come into translation much later than his other works. The story is s a rather bizarre "mystery" focusing on themes of identity, loss and isolation, amongst other things...and while Pamuk is obviously an amazing stylist (they don't tend to give out Noble Prizes willy-nilly), this particular book seems to have...more

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12/12/08

Francisco rated it:

Read in December, 2008

La memoria de Orhan Pamuk (por Cecilia Dreymuller, Diario El País, 25/01/02)

En Estados Unidos, donde suelen anticiparse las nuevas tendencias de nuestra deslumbrante vida moderna, advierten ahora en Internet contra la lectura de obras literarias complejas: 'Asegúrese de tener tiempo y energía antes de empezar una novela de Pamuk. Cada uno de sus libros es un puzle para el lector y suelen ser muy difíciles de leer y entender. Hay frases que se alargan hasta 8 o 10 líneas'. Una cr...more La memoria de Orhan Pamuk (por Cecilia Dreymuller, Diario El País, 25/01/02)

En Estados Unidos, donde suelen anticiparse las nuevas tendencias de nuestra deslumbrante vida moderna, advierten ahora en Internet contra la lectura de obras literarias complejas: 'Asegúrese de tener tiempo y energía antes de empezar una novela de Pamuk. Cada uno de sus libros es un puzle para el lector y suelen ser muy difíciles de leer y entender. Hay frases que se alargan hasta 8 o 10 líneas'. Una crítica del periódico The Nation se expresa de manera algo más diferenciada, aunque tampoco tenga en gran estima la competencia literaria de los norteamericanos: 'Pamuk pone a sus lectores en el límite de lo que probablemente estén dispuestos a aceptar'.

Desde luego, entrar en el laberinto borgiano de casi seiscientas páginas de El libro negro es una experiencia límite: puede que algunos lectores sean incapaces de soltarlo en 12 horas, puede que empiecen a interesarse por la mística sufí o que quieran aprender cómo los hurufíes descifraban las letras que Alá imprimió en el rostro de cada ser humano. Como mínimo quedarán enganchados de la capacidad de fabulación de un narrador compulsivo, y querrán leer más historias de gente que cuenta historias que conducen, infaliblemente, a nuevas historias. 'Eran las historias las que le mantenían en pie, las historias que descubría gracias a su intuición como los objetos que un ciego reconoce gracias a su tacto. (...) No tenía la menor duda de que el mundo y la gente a su alrededor también podían mantenerse en pie sólo gracias a sus historias'.
Orhan Pamuk (Estambul,

1952), el escritor turco contemporáneo más reconocido internacionalmente, ha presentado con su quinta novela una obra densa, vibrante y pluridimensional, a la altura de las grandes novelas del siglo XX. Igual que Paradiso, Rayuela o Ulises, crea un universo propio intrincadísimo con el pretexto de una búsqueda. Acompañamos a Galip, un tímido abogado, durante una semana en la que sigue el rastro de su adorada esposa Rüya, desaparecida junto a su hermanastro, el famoso columnista Celâl Salim. Y ya estamos en medio del más fascinante embrollo metaliterario, porque los personajes mismos, tanto el héroe involuntario como los fantasmales desaparecidos, forman parte de las reminiscencias literarias enciclopédicas que se dan cita en esta novela. Celâl es trasunto ficcional del poeta y místico sufí Mevlâna Celâleffin, más conocido en Europa como Rumi; Galip remite al jeque Galip, autor del poema místico Hüsn y Ashk, cuya historia transcurre paralela a la construcción de la novela. Y las pistas a seguir se hallan en las columnas del admirado pariente -insertadas en capítulos alternos como complemento a la intriga-, señalando con citas el camino de salida en un juego de espejos, de reflejos literarios de todas las épocas.

Las mil y una peripecias del confuso protagonista se insertan en el escenario de la gran urbe. Galip recorre incansablemente las calles, bazares y tugurios de Estambul, un moloc violento, oscuro, imprevisible, desparramado sobre siete colinas y dividido por el Bósforo entre Europa y Asia. La metrópoli escindida es, sin duda, la segunda protagonista de la novela, ya que representa en su orografía el telón de fondo idóneo para tematizar una de las preocupaciones principales del autor: el enfrentamiento entre tradición y modernidad, entre Oriente y Occidente. Igual que en su novela histórica El castillo blanco (1991), en la que un ingeniero aprende técnicas de construcción bélica de su esclavo italiano, o en su más reciente obra, Mi nombre es Rojo (2001), sobre las intrigas en la corte osmana del siglo XV por la defensa de la pintura clásica árabe contra las influencias de los pintores venecianos, trata también El libro negro de la eterna antinomia que corroe la sociedad turca. Pamuk introduce aquí soslayadamente un elemento político en la trama, estableciendo a través del conspirativo personaje en la sombra -el camaleónico Celâl- la relación con el golpe militar de 1980. Los conspiradores se sirven del histórico antagonismo para sus fines radicalizadores: 'Oriente y Occidente se repartían las dos mitades del mundo: se oponían completamente el uno al otro, eran lo contrario, lo opuesto, como el bien y el mal, lo blanco y lo negro, el ángel y el diablo. Era absolutamente imposible que, como creían algunos soñadores, esos dos universos se entendieran y vivieran en paz. Uno de los dos universos sería siempre superior, sería el amo, y el otro se vería obligado a ser su esclavo'.

Cuando un libro es tan completo, se puede permitir alguna flaqueza -pensemos en la precariedad de la página perfecta de Borges-. En este caso son los excesos digresivos, que el autor, por cierto, no se corta en defender, apoyándose, por supuesto, en citas: 'Si tengo un defecto, es el de divagar' (tomado supuestamente de una obra con el título esclarecedor de Disculpas y burlas, de Birón Bajá). Leer es hacerse poco a poco con la memoria del autor, comprende Galip mientras va leyendo los miles de artículos de Celâl, el genio de la retentiva que comparó su memoria con un jardín -un jardín que desgraciadamente ha comenzado a secarse-. Para cultivarlo contaba historias: reales, inventadas, copiadas de libros, vistas en el cine. Éste es el irresistible material del que está hecho El libro negro. El lector se sentirá fascinado al entrar en el hermoso jardín de la memoria de Orhan Pamuk.

Fuente: http://www.elpais.com/articulo/narrativa...(less)

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04/27/09

Deborah Palmer rated it:

Read in May, 2009

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here.

Finally finished the book last week. As you can see from my initial reading of the book until completion the novel alternately drove me crazy and appealed to me at the same time. I believe overall Galip our subject/hero finds that writing and telling stories helps you to transcend yourself but in the end you are still you. As the expression goes, wherever you go there you are. There is always a story within the story, however Mr. Pamuk could have left out the comparisons/analysis to/of Rumi. No ...more Finally finished the book last week. As you can see from my initial reading of the book until completion the novel alternately drove me crazy and appealed to me at the same time. I believe overall Galip our subject/hero finds that writing and telling stories helps you to transcend yourself but in the end you are still you. As the expression goes, wherever you go there you are. There is always a story within the story, however Mr. Pamuk could have left out the comparisons/analysis to/of Rumi. No matter what Pamuk writes he will never be as deep yet simple as the poet Rumi.

This story like the novel Snow is not your traditional mystery. It weaves together several levels and it is really a psychological drama. My impressions thus far:

Switched Lives
One with the Beloved (Rumi)
If I don't measure up then I will become you.
Swallowed up -- me as an individual ceases to exist.

Each of the chapters are vignettes, slices of melancholia, a theme that repeats itself in all of Pamuk's books. Another subject is that of assimilation whether cultural or as an individual. No more originality. Pamuk is one of those authors who creates his own worlds in his books based on his own life and upbring in Istanbul, Turkey. Actually except for maybe for his book, My Name is Red, Pamuk tends to repeat the same themes, subjects and topics over and over ad naseum! Nothing new under the sun?!

This novel leaves something to be desired. However you may like the book if you enjoy nontraditional mysteries/dramas. Cavet; Pamuk tends to repeat the same overiding themes throughout all his books. Actually his best book was the non-Fiction, Istanbul, the autobiography of his life, which really made me want to visit his country. The slices of life in Instanbul were at least enjoyable. I think all non-Western or non-European cultures have since the 18th century experienced the East vs. West and/or Christianity vs Indigenous Religions debates/controvesies. The fact that Pamuk rehases this concept in each of his books does not give the reader anything different to look forward to. In fact the dialogue can try the reader's patience with all theses "hidden" meanings and sublevels. Only the names/locations of the characters change. I honestly believe that Mr. Pamuk is trying to be too "deep"!! Remember Alice in Wonderland? Well this book is turning more and more into Adult Jackerwocky. Mr. Pamuk could have left out the constant analysis and as Malcolm X said, "Make it Plain!!"(less)

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03/18/09

Christopher rated it:

Read in April, 2009

While reading Orhan Pamuk's breakthrough novel, it is easy to feel as lost as the central character, a lawyer who discovers that the central mystery is not the whereabouts in enigmatic Istanbul of his missing wife, but rather that of identity itself. His identity, that of a newspaper columnist given to revolutionary tales and historical asides, that of a mysterious caller, and in fact, of Istanbul itself and its relation to the culture and identity of the West are all called into question.
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01/25/09

Aaron rated it:

Read in February, 2009

Like a confused "Name of the Rose," but with an ungodly proliferation of Arabian-Nights style interjected stories, occasionally interesting philosophical poetic musings. As with "Snow", the women are especially under-drawn, just pretty figures and faces who nominally mean a great deal to the men involved, but for no particular reason that we can understand. The main character, whose wife has run off, is a particularly strange type: not once does he really try to figure out ...more

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07/04/09

David rated it:

Read in June, 2009

This is a massive achievement. It's quite exhausting to read as the author throws stories, characters, similies at us at a very rapid rate.
What is so special about it is the way he works on several levels: he brings home what it is like to be Turkish, how Istanbul is the frontier of cultures, and how much history is there. But on another, more modernist level, he raises questions of what it is to be an author, the relationship between reader and writer, and ultimately, what defines our id...more

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10/31/08

Baobabas rated it:

Read in September, 2008

Pirmąją Orhano Pamuko perskaičiau anglų kalba ir likau sužavėta jo pasakojimo menu, sugebėjimu įtraukti skaitytoją į savo pasaulį. O rašytojo pasaulis – gimtasis Stambulas, jau daugelį šimtmečių žavintis savo kultūra.
Juodojoje knygoje rašytojas paliečia visą mūsų pasaulį dabar drebinančią globalizacijos jėgą, kuri keičia miestus, tautas, žmonių papročius ir tradicijas, lipdydama juos pagal vieną šabloną. Rašytojas pastebi, kad vieni tai priimta kaip t...more

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09/30/08

julieta rated it:

bookshelves: far-east

Read in October, 2008

que libro tan dificil de leer! Al principio lo empece en ingles, pero a los dos capitulos decidi empezarlo de nuevo en alguna traduccion al español, mas que nada porque siempre he leido a pamuk en español, y por alguna razon me gusta mas. Pero igual me costo trabajo! Es un libro de alguien que ama las historias, contar historias distintas de todo tipo, de verdugos, de poetas, de principes, de todo, pero la historia principal, o la que pareceria serlo, de un hombre llamado galip que un dia es a...more

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08/20/08

Philip rated it:

I have visited Turkey, but not Istanbul. It’s one of those iconic places that keeps cropping up in travel plans, but then gets overlooked, possibly because its name fits so easily into my thoughts that I convince myself I have already been there. Having just read Orhan Pamuk’s The Black Book, that illusion will be orders of magnitude stronger. Orhan Pamuk won the 2006 Nobel Prize for literature and this seems to have spurned new translations of his work, new versions which hopefully can wide...more I have visited Turkey, but not Istanbul. It’s one of those iconic places that keeps cropping up in travel plans, but then gets overlooked, possibly because its name fits so easily into my thoughts that I convince myself I have already been there. Having just read Orhan Pamuk’s The Black Book, that illusion will be orders of magnitude stronger. Orhan Pamuk won the 2006 Nobel Prize for literature and this seems to have spurned new translations of his work, new versions which hopefully can widen his readership in the English-speaking world.

The Black Book is a gigantic work. And, in the way that I suspect most readers might understand the term, there is no plot. Suffice it to say that Galip wakes up one morning and his wife has disappeared. He assumes she has gone off to seek out her first husband, Celal, a well-known newspaper columnist. Galip sets off to find Celal and, he assumes, his wife, but strangely the journalist has also disappeared. As a means to help him track down the two missing people, Galip immerses himself in Celal’s life, his writing and, gradually, his very identity. Effectively he becomes the person he is seeking. He re-reads his past work and discovers unknown things about his own, his wife’s and her former husband’s past. By then, however, we cannot be sure if we are dealing with reminiscences of Celal, Galip’s interpretations of them, Galip’s reworking of them, or, indeed, Galip’s own words presented as if they were those of Celal.

But the plot in The Black Book is almost irrelevant. It’s not a book that one reads to discover what happens. It’s a book that’s replete with flavour, experience and history, and the reader feasts on vast helpings of all three.

Byzantium, Constantinople, Istanbul – let’s face it, there is no other city on earth that has been named three times and where, on each occasion, that name has passed into language as an expression of political, strategic, religious and economic pre-eminence. It’s a city that bridges continents, ideologies and faiths. Nowhere else on earth has a greater claim to the very quintessence of humanity than Istanbul. And yet modern Istanbul is a Turkish city, and perhaps its most fascinating aspect is its potential to mirror contemporary debates on religion versus secularism, tradition versus modernity, imperial past versus global present.

The Black Book has thirty-six chapters, each having its own title and prefacing quotation. The form, at least in part, is its content, in that each chapter could be read as if it were an article written by Celal or by Galip impersonating Celal. There is no linear narrative. We experience what inspired the writer and there is no ordering of time or place. But we feel we are in that city. We feel we are living its history, whatever that might be. And we feel we are experiencing contemporary debates on its and its people’s identity. The city is central to everything in the book, with its multiple histories and allegiances mixed into the melting pot of its contemporary form.

Throughout, Galip finds he gradually becomes his quarry, Celal. He trades identities and roles, but never permanently, never for sure. In this way the characters become the city, whose sense of place and multiplicity of identities pervade all, thus mirroring the apparent confusion of its – and humanity’s – complexity. But the people eventually are always welcomed by some aspect of the city’s – and humanity’s – multi-faceted nature.

The Black Book is a work that demands to be re-read, but not because it is in any way a difficult or impenetrable read. I have never been to Istanbul, but like the book, I feel it will be an experience that, once tried, will demand to be re-visited.
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08/12/08

GeekChick rated it:

bookshelves: fiction

Read in December, 2008

This is a tale of mystery and identity -- and self-identity. Pamuk does a masterful job interweaving parallel stories. I don't want to spoil anything, so that's all I'll say about that.

As all Pamuk's work, the story is set in Istanbul. If you've ever been there, it will be an added bonus as you read!

I did not like the middle part of the story, however. It seemed to drag on and on and on....all of a sudden the main plot stopped moving. I really hate that; it's caus...more

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07/07/08

L added it

bookshelves: abandoned, mystery

By the description this is a mystery. I suppose there is that, but it doesn't seem to be what the book is all about, so I haven't added that label. Perhaps when I get further into it that will become more dominant. I'm not sure where this tale is going, but I'm enjoying the journey. Because I've never read a novel set in Istanbul, I'm finding the depiction of that culture, well a part of it, fascinating.

And now I'm taking a pause from the book. It's become very--what is the best des...more

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04/14/08

Maria rated it:

Read in December, 2006

Esta novela de intriga comienza con la desaparición de Rüya, esposa y prima de Galip, un abogado que trabaja en Estambul.

Galip comienza entonces a buscar a Rüya por toda la ciudad, y llega a la conclusión de que debe estar en el mismo lugar que su hermanastro Celâl, también desaparecido, un columnista bastante popular de uno de los diarios de Estambul y repudidado por airear en sus columnas los trapos sucios de su familia.

Galip llega a la conclusión de que en...more

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04/04/08

martin rated it:

(review of isbn 057122525X)

Read in September, 2008

recommended to martin by: The Nobel Prize judges
recommends it for: Lovers of Woolf and Joyce

This has to be one of the most difficult books I have ever read for pleasure. I wasn't sure what was happening at all for the first few chapters, then I spent much of the rest of the book trying to figure out what the "message" of the book might be. Finally about 3/4 of the way through, I thought I had begun to figure it out and I started to appreciate the incredible ability of the author.

My take on this novel differs a little from the standard interpretation - Wikipedia f...more

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02/05/08

EllenB rated it:

Read in September, 2008

I enjoyed My Name is Red and Snow, but I don't remember them and can't tell you what happened in them. Orhan Pamuk reminds me of a Turkish cross between Dickens and Gabriel Garcia Marquez, although grounded in a morose reality. I am not entranced by him, but feel entrenched in the deep layers of endless language, the endless rigamorale in the heads of his characters. He is a writer I have wanted to love, but who I find tiresome. His endless layered circling is too similiar, perhaps, to what ma...more

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11/06/07

John rated it:

Has a copy to sell/swap — Read in September, 2006

I hope that Orhan Pamuk really enjoyed writing The Black Book, because I definitely did not enjoy reading it.

It is ostensibly the story of Celal, a columnist for a major Turkish daily who has disappeared or ran away, told through the eyes of the his friend and brother-in-law, Galip. When Galip’s pulp detective novel-loving wife (Celal’s sister) disappears as well, Galip turns into something of a detective himself, and the plot thickens. And then, it slows to a tedious crawl.
...more I hope that Orhan Pamuk really enjoyed writing The Black Book, because I definitely did not enjoy reading it.

It is ostensibly the story of Celal, a columnist for a major Turkish daily who has disappeared or ran away, told through the eyes of the his friend and brother-in-law, Galip. When Galip’s pulp detective novel-loving wife (Celal’s sister) disappears as well, Galip turns into something of a detective himself, and the plot thickens. And then, it slows to a tedious crawl.

Whatever the story is here, it becomes something of an afterthought, taking a back seat to page after page of postmodern quasi-philosophical musings on the nature of identity. The plot pulls its head up out of the ground from time to time, introducing a few new twists and intrigues which, were they part of a tighter, more focused novel may actually have been interesting, perhaps even thrilling. But as it was they just ended up getting lost in the larger symphony of postmodern tangents whose meaning or purpose in this novel I almost certainly did not fully understand. Man, this was a tough slog of a read.

With all that being said, though, now that some time has elapsed since I read it last year, I can look back with the sugar-coated spectacles of hindsight and identify some things about it that I eventually came to appreciate, such as the portraits of some of the quirky minor characters, and the overall structure of the novel, which is punctuated with the columns of the missing columnist, columns which are eventually ghost-written by Galip, who takes up the pen when he realizes Celal will not return.

I also enjoyed some of the descriptive atmospheric passages about Istanbul, where Pamuk sort-of poetically depicts the various neighborhoods his protagnist travels through, from the seedy and worn to the posh and comfortable. There are also some pretty memorable passages from Celal’s columns, including a little fantasia about what lies at the bottom of the Bosporus, a passage that ended up being one of the most memorable of the entire novel.

I read this book during a trip to Turkey (yes, I was one of *those* people), which included a few days in Istanbul, and something about being in the place where a novel is set does add something meaningful to the experience, even if it is an excruciating one at the time.(less)

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05/23/09

Keeyoon rated it:

bookshelves: currently-reading

Don't think the translation is making it better. Wish I could read Turkish. More difficult to follow and get into than My Name Is Red but there are some interesting parts where he makes me think. But I can't help but feel that he is sometimes full of himself and really pedantic. Maybe it lost its original goodness through being translated into another language that is structurally very different from Turkish.

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01/13/08

Irwan rated it:

(review of isbn 057122525X)

bookshelves: finished

Read in March, 2008

Painfully beautiful, intriguing and an absorbing, labyrinthine story. Will read it once again before I can make any smart comment about this book which offers many pleasures.

One story inside the story is about a Prince who had discovered that the most important question in life was whether or not one could be oneself. This idea is in another level reflected in the protagonist's search for his vanishing wife which is the main plot of the novel.

Sometimes I feel like readin...more

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