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    <name><![CDATA[Hamizao]]></name>
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    <![CDATA[My Name is Red]]>
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    <![CDATA[Orhan Pamuk is one of Turkey's premier novelists and <em>My Name Is Red</em>, when published in the original Turkish in 1998, became the fastest-selling book in Turkish history. It is high time then that a translation to English was made, and this publication will be widely welcomed by Pamuk's growing legion of English-speaking admirers. <p> In the late 16th century, during the final years of the reign of Ottoman Sultan Murat III, a great work is commissioned, a book celebrating the Sultan's life. The work is conducted in secret, to the ignorance of the artists involved, for fear of a violent religious reaction to the European style of the illuminations in the book. An artist goes, missing, feared dead, and Black, a painter who has been in a self-enforced exile because of spurned love, returns to help his former Master investigate the disappearance. <p> Pamuk's prose is as exquisite and rich as the elucidations it describes. This is a dense, atmospherically fevered book, which demands a high level of patience and attention from the reader, perhaps mirroring the patience of the miniaturists. Written in the first person, with multiple narratives, this is a book full of unreliable witnesses, and as the various stories of the narrators unfold, the truth of the disappearance slowly emerges. The sense of place and time are carefully constructed and diligently maintained throughout the novel, which, like Umberto Eco's <em>The Name Of The Rose</em>, far exceeds the genre of literary historical crime to become a hypnotic meditation on religion, love, time, patience and artistic devotion. --<em>Iain Robinson</em> </p></p>]]>
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    <body><![CDATA[Overall not an easy read. I am stil struggling with this...It is getting easier as I progress. I guess that is the progression as one gets more familiar with the writing style. Some of the ideas about the art can be quite abstract. Probably it is just me as I have no formal background in such discipline. Nonetheless, I feel there is an element wanting to stay as pure as before on the one hand and a progression into change caused by needs and influence of other civilizations such as the Chinese and Franks, on the other hand. So far the book seems to delve into the art of miniaturism. I wonder if much of it is true in the historical aspect as I sense much of the depictions in books then were laced with legends more for the pleasure of the elitists who patronised their work.<br/><br/>The book opens with the death of a Elegant Effendi, a master miniaturist whose body was then dumped into a well. 18 chapters on, the murderer, Wednesday, narrates his story. As expected he was the one who wailed most at the funeral until he pulled himself together before it became obvious. I sense envy/jealousy is the prime reason apart from other reasons which only those engulfed in the purity of the art and religion would do anything to defend them. But then the war had caused royal funding of the arts to dwindle and the master was forced to look elsewhere to supplement themselves i.e. the pashas.<br/><br/>A very challenging read I must say. It reminds me of books like Anna Kerinina which I never could complete because of names I simply could not remember. The minute details of the art which the writer took the trouble to delve into ...almost to a spiritual level of consciousness. The way the mystery is being solved is so unlike the CSI stuff I am more familiar with.The ending is rather unexpected. Well, you need to read it in order to understand the message of the book. I wouldn't make it so simple for you... <br/><br/>Now, I am ready for &quot;Istanbul&quot;<br/><br/>]]></body>
    
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