What do you think?
Rate this book


207 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1975
Cemile & Sultanmurat is a collection of two stories by the famous Kyrgyz-Turk author Chingiz Aitmatov, as the title suggests. I first came across this book at my cousin’s house a few years ago. I thought I might read it partly because of my own name, and this summer, I included it in a Reading Challenge. One of the conditions was that either the author or a character shares your first or last name—perfect for this book.
I have to admit, reading Aitmatov was challenging. When I finished Cemile, I even considered not continuing with the book. But leaving it unfinished didn’t sit well with me. Even without the event, I would have read it; once I started, I wanted to finish it.
Cemile is considered by some to be the most beautiful love story in the world. I think I loved it too. The stories are somewhat ambiguous in beginning and end, but this time, that ambiguity worked in its favor. Thinking about Cemile and Danyar, imagining a happy future for them in my mind, was a pleasure. I even found a bit of myself in Cemile—her stubbornness, her ignorance of customs and traditions.
But the book isn’t just about two people’s love. There is also the young man’s (Cemile’s little cousin, or perhaps brother-in-law?) pure affection for her. Childhood love—this is my favorite kind. I truly envy those who have experienced it. And that’s not all: there is also love for nature and life, and the young boy’s passion for drawing. The brevity and ambiguity of Cemile probably contributed to its beauty as well.
Sultanmurat is also a love story, about the affection between two adolescents. But perhaps because I’m less familiar with the setting, I couldn’t fully connect to the steppes or the story. It didn’t captivate me, and I didn’t enjoy it much—I read through it just to finish.
It seems that Aitmatov is a challenging author for me. I hope I don’t develop the same phobia toward him as I did with Dostoevsky. I remember that when I was in primary school, a relative who was in high school had read Crime and Punishment and told me about it. Later, around 12–13 years old, I decided to read it myself and did, though I didn’t fully grasp the depth of what he was trying to convey. I struggled less than I thought I would.
Even so, during high school, I never managed to read Dostoevsky, and now I hesitate to pick him up. A friend once brought The Gambler, and I could only read three pages of the thin book. I’m patiently waiting for the right time to read Dostoevsky. I hope I’ll overcome that. I feel Aitmatov might be similar. Perhaps once I finish the books I have, I’ll get another and try again.
At least, I have finished another book on my reading list, and that alone gives me some consolation.
One cannot tell everything; words are never enough to express everything.
For a farmer, there is always risk—but hope never runs out.
The elders of the village said there is no creature as sensitive as a horse: in capable hands, they recover immediately. If you give it as much as your pinky, it will repay you a hundredfold.