I AM CALLED BLACK-1
AfteranabsewelveyearsIeanbullikeasleepwalker.“Theearthcalledtohim,”theysayofmenwhoareabouttodie,andinmycase,itwasdeaththatdrewmebacktothecitywhereI’dbeenbornandraised.
WhenIfirstreturhoughttherewasoh;later,Iwouldalsoenterlove.Love,however,wasadistantandfottenthing,likemymemoriesofhavinglivediy.ItwasinIstanbul,twelveyearsago,thatIfellhelplesslyihmyyoungcousin.
FouryearsafterIfirstleftIstanbul,whiletravelingthroughtheeeppes,snow-coveredmountainsandmelancholycitiesofPersia,carryiersandcollegtaxes,IadmittedtomyselfthatIwasslowlyfettingthefaceofthechildhoodloveI’dleftbehind.Withgrowingpanic,Itrieddesperatelytorememberher,onlytorealizethatdespitelove,afagnotseenfinallyfades.DurihyearIspenti,travelingasasecretaryintheserviceofpashas,IkhatthefaceIimaginedwasnolohatofmybeloved.Later,ihyear,IfotwhatI’dmistakenlycalledtomindih,andagainvisualizedapletelydifferenttehisway,bythetwelfthyear,wheuromycityattheageofthirty-six,Iainfullyawarethatmybeloved’sfacehadlongsinceescapedme.
Manyofmyfriendsaiveshaddiedduringmytwelve-yearexile.IvisitedthecemeteryoverlookingtheGoldenHornandprayedformymotherandfortheuncleswho’dpassedawayinmyabseheearthysmellofmudmihmymemories.Someonehadbrokehecherbesidemymrave.Forwhateverreason,gazingatthebrokenpieces,Ibegantocry.WasIgforthedeadorbecauseIwas,strangely,stillonlyatthebeginningofmylifeafteralltheseyears?OrwasitbecauseI’detotheendofmylife’sjourney?Afaintsnowfell.Entraheflakesblowinghereandthere,IbecamesolostinthevagariesofmylifethatIdidn’tnoticetheblackdogstaringatmefromadarkerofthecemetery.
Mytearssubsided.Iwipedmynose.IsawtheblackdogwaggingitstailinfriendshipasIleftthecemetery.Sometimelater,Isettledinthborhood,rentihehouseswherearelativeonmyfather’ssideoncelived.ItseemsIremihelandladyofhersonwho’dbeenkilledbySafavidPersiansoldiersatthefrontandsosheagreedtothehouseandcookforme.
IsetoutonlongandsatisfyingwalksthroughthestreetsasifI’dsettlednotinIstanbul,buttemporarilyiheArabcitiesattheotherendoftheworld.Thestreetshadbeenarrower,orsoitseemedtome.Iainareas,onroadssqueezedbetweenhousesleaningtowardoher,Iwasforcedtorubupagainstwallsanddoorstoavoidbeinghitbyladenpackhorses.Thereweremorewealthypeople,orsoitseemedtome.Isawanornatecarriage,acitadeldrawnbyproudhorses,thelikesofwhichcouldn’tbefoundinArabiaorPersia.he“Burntn,”Isawsomebothersomebeggarsdressedinragshuddlingtogetherasthesmellofoffalingfromthechi-sellersmarketwaftedoverthem.Ohemwhowasblindsmiledashewatchedthefallingsnow.
HadIbeentoldIstanbulusedtobeapoorer,smallerandhappiercity,Imightnothavebelievedit,butthat’swhatmyhearttoldme.Thoughmybeloved’shousewaswhereit’dalwaysbeenamonglindenanuttrees,otherswerenowlivingthere,asIlearnedfrominquiringatthedoor.Idiscoveredthatmybeloved’smother,mymaternalaunt,haddied,andthatherhusband,myEnishte,andhisdaughterhadmovedaway.ThisishowIcametolearnthatfatheranddaughterwerethevictimsofcertainmisfortunes,frersansweringthedoor,whoinsuchsituationsareperfectlyforthing,withouttheleastawarenessofhowmercilesslythey’vebrokenyourheartaroyedyourdreams.Iwon’tdescribeallofthistoyounow,butallowmetosaythatasIrecalledwarm,verdantandsunnysummerdaysinthatoldgarden,Ialsonoticediciclesthesizeofmylittlefingerhangingfromthebrahelireeinaplaisery,snowandnowevokednothingbutdeath.
I’dalreadylearnedaboutsomeofwhathadbefalleivesthroughalettermyEnishtesenttomeinTabriz.Inthatletter,heinvitedmebacktoIstanbul,explainingthathereparibookforOurSultanandthathewantedmyhelp.He’dheardthatforaperiodwhileinTabriz,ImadebooksforOttomanpashas,provincialgovernorsandIstanbulites.WhatIdidthenwastousethemoneyadvancedbytswho’dplacedmanuscriptordersinIstanbultolocateminiaturistsandcalligrapherswhowerefrustratedbythewarsandthepresetomansoldiers,buthadleftforKazvinoranotherPersiancity,anditwasthesemasters—plainingofpovertyand—whomIissiooinscribe,illustrateandbindthepagesofthemanuscriptsIwouldthensendbacktoIstanbul.Ifitweren’tfortheloveofillustratingandfinebooksthatmyEnishteinstilledinmeduringmyyouth,Icouldhaveneverinvolvedmyselfinsuchpursuits.
Atthemarketendofthestreet,whereatoimemyEnishtehadlived,Ifoundthebarber,amasterbytrade,inhisshopamongthesamemirrors,straightrazors,pitchersofwaterandsoapbrushes.Icaughthiseye,butI’mnotsurehereizedme.Itdelightedmetoseethatthehead-washingbasin,whigbyafromtheceiling,stilltracedthesameoldarc,swingingbadforthashefilleditwithhotwater.
SomeoftheneighborhoodsandstreetsI’dfrequentedinmyyouthhaddisappearedinashesandsmoke,replacedbyburntruiraydogsgregatedandwheremadtrasfrightehelocalchildren.Inotherareasrazedbyfire,largeaffluenthouseshadbeenbuilt,andIwasastoheirextravagance,bywindowsofthemostexpensiveVeianstainedglass,andbylavishtwo-storyresidehbaywindowssuspendedabovehighwalls.
Asinmanyothercities,moneynolongerhadanyvalueinIstanbul.AtthetimeIreturnedfromtheEast,bakeriesthatoncesoldlargeone-hundreddrachmaloavesofbreadforonesilverowbakedloaveshalfthesizeforthesamepridtheynoloastedthewaytheydidduringmychildhood.Hadmylatemotherseenthedaywhenshe’dhavetospendthreesilverpiecesforadozeneggs,she’dsay,“Weoughttoleavebeforethechisgrowsospoiledtheyshitonusinsteadoftheground.”ButIkheproblemofdevaluedmoneywasthesameeverywhere.ItwasrumoredthatFlemishaianmertshipswerefilledwithchestsofterfeit.Attheroyalmint,wherefivehundredswereoedfromahundreddrachmasofsilver,now,owingtotheendlesswarringwiththePersiahundredsweremintedfromthesameamount.WhenJanissariesdiscoveredthatthesthey’dbeenpaidactuallyfloatedintheGoldenHorhedriedbeansthatfellfromthevegetable-sellerspier,theyrioted,besiegingOurSultan’spalaceasifitwereanenemyfortress.
Aclericbythenameof,whopreachedattheBayazidMosqueandclaimedtobedesdedfrloriousProphetMuhammad,hadmadeanameforhimselfduringthisperiodofimmorality,inflation,crimea.
Thishoja,whowasfromthesmalltownofErzurum,attributedthecatastrophesthathadbefallenIstanbulitenyears—includingtheBah?ekap?andKazanj?lardistrictfires,theplaguesthatclaimedtensofthousands,theendlesswarswiththePersiansatacostoftlesslives,aswellasthelossofsmallOttomanfortressesitoChristiansi—toourhavingstrayedfromthepathoftheProphet,tardfor
thestricturesoftheGloriousKoran,tothetoleraowardChristians,totheopensaleofwiotheplayingofmusistrumentsindervishhouses.
ThepicklesellerwhopassionatelyinformedmeaboutthecleriErzurumsaidthattheterfeits—thenewducats,thefakeflorinsstampedwithlionsaomanswiththeirever-decreasingsilvertent—thatfloodedthemarketsandbazaars,justliketheCircassians,Abkhazians,Mingarians,Bosnians,GeiansandArmenianswhofilledthestreets,weredraggingustowardanabsolutedegradationfromwhichitwouldbedifficulttoescape.Iwastoldthatsdrelsandrebelsweregatheringincoffeehousesandproselytizinguntildawn;thatdestitutemenofdubiouscharacter,opium-addictedmadmenandfollowersoftheoutlawedKalenderidervishsect,claimingtobeonAllah’spath,wouldspendtheirnightsindervishhousesdangtomusic,piergthemselveswithskewersandengaginginallmannerofdepravity,beforebrutallyfugeachotherandanyboystheycouldfind.
Ididn’tknowwhetheritwasthemelodioussoundofalutethatpelledmetofollow,orifinthemuddleofmymemoriesanddesires,Icouldsimplynolongerehevirulentpickleseller,andseizeduponthemusicasawayoutoftheversation.Ido,however,knowthis:Whenyouloveacityandhaveexploreditfrequentlyonfoot,yourbody,nottomentionyoursoul,getstoknowthestreetssowellafteranumberofyearsthatinafitofmelancholy,perhapsstirredbyalightsnowfallingeversosorrowfully,you’lldiscoveryscarryingyouoftheirownaccordtowardoneofyourfavoritepromontories.
ThiswashoeoleavetheFarrier’sMarketandendedupwatgthesnowasitfellintotheGoldenHornfromaspotbesidetheSüleymaniyeMosque:Snowhadalreadybeguntoaccumulateontherooftopsfaorthandoionsofthedomeexposedtothenortheasterlybreeze.
Anapproagship,whosesailswerebeinglreetedmewithaflutterofvas.ThecolorofitssailsmatchedtheleadenandfoggyhueofthesurfaceoftheGoldenHorn.Thecypressandplaherooftops,theheartacheofdusk,thesoundsingfromtheneighborhoodbelow,thecallsofhawkersandthecriesofchildrenplayinginmosquecourtyardsmingledinmyheadandannouncedemphaticallythat,hereafter,Iwouldn’tbeabletoliveanywherebutintheircity.Ihadthesensationthatmybeloved’sface,whichhadescapedmeforyears,mightsuddenlyappeartome.
Ibegantowalkdownthehillandmeldedintothecrowds.Aftertheeveningprayerwascalled,Ifilledmystomachatalivershop.Iy
shop,Ilistenedcarefullytotheowner,whofondlywatchedmeeateachbiteasifhewerefeedingacat.Takinghisdfollowinghisdires,Ifoundmyselfturningdowhenarrowalleysbehindtheslavemarket—wellafterthestreetshadbeedark—andlocatedthecoffeehouse.
Iwascrowdedandwarm.Thestoryteller,thelikesofwhomIhadseeninTabrizandinPersiancitiesandwhowasknownthereaboutsasa“curtain-caller,”erchedonaraisedplatformbesidethewood-burningstove.Hehadunfoldedandhungbeforethecroicture,thefigureofadogdrawnhpaperhastilybutwithacertainelegance.Hewasgivingvoicetothedog,andpointing,fromtimetotime,atthedrawing.
IAMADOGAsyoudoubtlesstell,dearfriends,myesaresolongandpoiheybarelyfitintomymouth.Iknowthisgivesmeamenagappearaitpleasesme.Notigthesizeofmyteeth,abutcherohegalltosay,“MyGod,that’snodogatall,it’sawildboar!”
Ibithimsohardohatmyessankrightthroughhisfattyfleshtothehardnessofhisthighbone.F,yousee,nothingisassatisfyingassinkinghisteethintohismiserableenemyinafitofinstinctualwrath.Whensuopportunitypresentsitself,thatis,whenmyvictim,whodeservestobebitten,stupidlyandunknowinglypassesby,myteethtwingeandaanticipation,myheadspinswithlongingandwithoutevenmeaningto,Iemitahair-raisinggrowl.
I’madog,andbecauseyouhumansarelessratiosthanI,you’retellingyourselves,“Dogsdon’ttalk.”heless,youseemtobelieveastoryinwhichcorpsesspeakandcharactersusewordstheycouldn’tpossiblyknow.
Dogsdospeak,butonlytothosewhoknowhowtolisten.
Onceuponatime,long,longago,inafarawayland,abrashcleriaprovincialtownarrivedatohelargestmosquesinacapitalcity;allright,let’scallittheBayazidMosque.It’dbeappropriatetowithholdhisname,solet’srefertohimas“HusretHoja.”ButwhyshouldIcoverupanythingmore:
Thismanwasoneboneheadedcleric.Hemadeupforthemodestyofhisintellectwiththepowerofhistongue,Godblessit.EachFriday,hesoanimatedhisgregation,somovedthemtotearsthatsomewouldtiltheyfaintedordriedupandwitheredaway.Domewrong,uherclericswiththegiftofpreag,hehimselfdidn’tweep.Orary,whileeveryoneelsecried,heintensifiedhisorationwithoutablinkasiftochastisethegregation.Inallprobability,thegardeners,royalpages,halvamakers,riffraffandclericslikehimselfbecamehislackeysbecausetheyehetonguelashihismanwasnodogafterall,nosir,hewasahumanbeing—tobehumanistoerr—andbeforethoseenthralledcrowds,helosthimselfwhehatintimidatingthrongsofpeopleleasurableasbringiears.Whenheuoodthattherewasmuchmorebreadtobemadeinthisure,hewehetopandhadtheosaythefollowing:
“Thesolereasonforrisingprices,plagueandmilitarydefeatliesinettingtheIslamofthetimeloriousProphetandfallingswayto
falsehoods.WastheProphet’sbirthepicreadinmemoryofthedeadbackthen?Wasthefortieth-dayceremonyperformed,wheresweetslikehalvaandfrieddoughareofferedtohonorthedead?WhenMuhammadlived,wastheGloriousKoraedmelodically,likeasoheprayerscalledhaughtilyandpompouslytoshowhowcloseone’sArabicwastoanArab’s?
Wastheresuchathingasregthecalltoprayercoyly,withtheflourishofamanimitatingawoman?Today,peoplepleadbefravesites,beggingforamends.Theyhopefortheinterventionofthedeadontheirbehalf.Theyvisitthetombsofsaintsandworshipatgraveslikepagansbeforepiecesofstone.
Theytievotivepiecesofclotheverywhere,andmakepromisesofsacrifireturnforato.WeretheredervishsectarianswhospreadsuchbeliefsinMuhammad’stime?IbnArabi,theintellectualmentorofthesesectarians,becameasinnerbyswearingthattheinfidelPharaohhaddiedabeliever.
Thesedervishes,theMevlevis,theHalvetis,theKalenderisandthosewhosingtheKorantomusicalapaorjustifydangwithchildrenandjuvenilesbysaying”wepraytogetheranyway,whynot?“areallkaffirs.Dervishlodgesoughttobedestroyed,theirfoundationsexcavatedtoadepthofsevenellsandthecollectedearthcastintothesea.Onlythenmightritualprayersbeperformedthereagain.”
IheardtellthatthisHusretHoja,takingmattersevenfurther,declaredwithspittleflyingfromhismouth,“Ah,mydevotedbelievers!Thedrinkingofcoffeeisanabsolutesin!loriousProphetdidnotpartakeofcoffeebecausehekdulledtheintellect,causedulcers,herniaandsterility;heuoodthatcoffeewasnothingbuttheDevil’sruse.Coffeehousesareplaceswherepleasure-seekersahygadaboutssitko-knee,involvingthemselvesinallsortsofvulgarbehavior;infact,evenbeforethedervishhousesareclosed,coffeehousesoughttobebanned.Dothepoorhaveenoughmoodrinkcoffee?Menfrequenttheseplaces,beebesottedwithcoffeeandlosetroloftheirmentalfacultiestothepointthattheyactuallylistentoandbelievewhatdogsandmongrelshavetosay.Butthosewhocursemeandion,itistheywhoarethetruemongrels.”
Withyourpermission,I’dliketorespondtothislastentbytheesteemedcleric.Ofcourse,itisonkhathajis,hojas,cleridpreachersdespiseusdogs.Inmyopinion,thewholemattersourreveredProphetMuhammad,peadblessingsbeuponhim,whocutoffapieceofhisrobeuponwhichacatlaysleepingratherthahebeast.Bypointingoutthisaffeshowntothecat,whichhasiallybeendeousdogs,aooureternalfeudwiththisfeli,whicheveupidestofmenreizesasaningrate,peoplehavetriedto
intimatethattheProphethimselfdislikeddogs.They’revihatwe’lldefilethoseerformedritualablutions,andtheresultofthiserroneousandslanderousbeliefisthatwe’vebeenbarredfrommosquesforturiesandhavesufferedbeatingsintheircourtyardsfrombroomstick-wieldingcaretakers.
Allowmetoremindyouof“TheCave,”themostbeautifuloftheKoran’schapters.I’mremindingyounotbecauseIsuspecttheremaybethosewhoneverreadtheKoranamongusinthisgoodcoffeehouse,butbecauseIwanttorefreshyourmemories:Thischapterretsthestoryofthesevenyouthswhogrowtiredoflivingamongpagansandtakerefugeinacavewheretheyenteradeepsleep.Allahtheheirearsandcausesthemtodozeoffforexactlythreehundredandnineyears.Whentheyawake,theylearnjusthowmanyyearshavepassedonlyafterohemehesocietyofmenandtriestospendanoutdatedsilver.Allofthemarestuolearnwhathashappehischaptersubtlydescribesman’sattattoAllah,Hismiracles,thetransitorynatureoftimeandthepleasureofdeepsleep,andthoughit’snotmyplace,allowmetoremindyouoftheeighteenthverse,whichmakesmentionofadogrestingatthemouthofthiscavewherethesevenyouthshavefallenasleep.Obviously,anyonewouldbeproudtoappearintheKoran.Asadog,Itakeprideinthischapter,andthroughitIitheErzurumis,whorefertotheirenemiesasdirtymootheirsenses.
Sothen,what’stheactualreasonforthisanimosityts?Whydoyoupersistinsayingthatdogsareimpure,andingandpurifyingyourhomesfromtoptobottomifadoghappeer?Whydoyoubelievethatthosewhotouchusspoiltheirablutions?Ifyourcaftanbrushesagainstourdampfur,whydoyouinsistonwashingthatcaftaimeslikeafrenziedwoman?Onlytinsmithscouldberesponsiblefortheslahatapotlickedbyadogmustbethrownawayorretinned.Orperhaps,yes,cats…Whenpeoplelefttheirvillagesforthesedentarylifeofthecity,shepherddogsremaiheprovihat’swhenrumorsofthefilthinessofdogslikemebegantospread.YetbeforetheadventofIslam,twoofthetwelvemonthsoftheyearwere“monthsofthedog.”Now,however,adogissideredabadomen.Idon’twanttoburdenyouwithmyownproblems,mydearfriendswhohaveetohearastoryandposmoral—tobeho,myangerarisesoutoftheesteemedcleric’sattacksuponourcoffeehouses.
WhatwouldyouthinkifIsaidthatthisHusretofErzurumwasofdubiousbirth?Butthey’vealsosaidofme,“Whatkindofdogdoyouthinkyouare?
You’reattagthevenerableclericbecauseyourmasterisapicture-hangingstorytellerwhotellstalesatacoffeehouseandyouwanttoprotecthim.Goon,scat!”Godforbid,I’mnotdenigratingaI’magreatadmirerofourcoffeehouses.Youknow,IhavenoproblemwiththefactthatmyportraitwasdrawnonsuchcheappaperorthatI’mafgedbeast,butIdretthatI’tsitdownlikeamanandhaveacupofcoffeewithyou.We’ddieforourcoffeeandourcoffeehouses—what’sthis?See,mymasterispcoffeeformefromasmallcoffeepot.Apicture’tdrinkcoffee,yousay?
Please!Seeforyourselves,thisdogishappilylappingaway.
Ah,yes,thathitthespot,it’swarmedmeup,sharpenedmysightandquiedmythoughts.NowlistentowhatIhavetotellyou:Besidesboltsofesesilksandesepotteryadorhblueflowers,whatdidtheVeianDogesendtoNurhayatSultaeemeddaughterofourrespectedSultan?AsoftandcuddlyVeianshe-dogwithacoatofsilkandsable.Iheardthatthisbitchissospoiledshehasaredsilkdressaswell.Oneofourfriendsactuallyfuckedher,that’showIknow,andshe’teveneheactwithoutherdress.InthatFrankishlandofhers,alldogswearoutfitslikethatanyway.I’veheardtellthatoverthereaso-calledelegantandwell-bredVeianwomansawanakeddog—ormaybeshesawitsthing,I’mnotsure—anyway,shescreamed,“MydearGod,thedogisnaked!”andfainteddeadaway.
InthelandsoftheinfidelFranks,theso-calledEuropeans,everydoghasahesepooranimalsareparadedoreetswithsaroundtheirnecks,they’refetteredlikethemostmiserableofslavesanddraggedaroundinisolation.TheseFranksforcethepoorbeastsintotheirhomesaotheirbeds.Dogsaretedtowalkwithoher,letalonesniffandfrolictogether.Inthatdespicablestate,ins,theydonothingbutgazeforlornlyateachotherfromadistancewhentheypassoreet.DogswhoroamthestreetsofIstanbulfreelyinpaduhewaywedo,dogswhothreatenpeopleifnecessary,whocurlupinawarmerorstretchoutintheshadeandsleeppeacefully,andwhoshitwherevertheywantandbitewhomevertheywant,suchdogsarebeyondtheinfidels’ception.It’snotthatIhaven’tthoughtthatthismightbewhythefollowersoftheErzurumiopposeprayingfsandfeedingthemmeatoreetsofIstanbulinexgefordivinefavorsandevenwhytheyopposetheestablishmentofcharitiesthatperformsuchservices.Iftheyintendboth
totreatusasenemiesandmakeinfidelsofus,letmeremihatbeingaodogsandbeinganinfidelareohesame.Atthe,Ihope,nottoodistaionsofthesedisgracefulmen,Iprayourexecutionerfriendsiotakeabite,astheysometimesdotosetadeterringexample.
BeforeIfinish,letmesaythis:Mypreviousmasterwasaveryjustman.
Wheatnighttothieve,we’dcooperate:I’dbegintobark,andhe’dcutthethroatofourvictimwhosescreamswouldbedrowbymybarking.Iurnformyhelp,he’dcutuptheguiltymenthathe’dpunished,boilthemahemtome.Idon’tlikerawmeat.Godwilling,thewould-beexecutiohatcleriErzurumwilltakethisintoatsoIwon’tupsetmystomachwiththatsdrel’srawflesh.
IWILLBECALLEDAMURDERERNay,Iwouldn’thavebelievedIcouldtakeanyone’slife,evenifI’dbeentoldsomomentsbeforeImurderedthatfool;andthus,myoffeimesrecedesfrommelikeafngalleondisappearingonthehorizon.Nowandagain,IevenfeelasifIhaven’tittedanycrimeatall.FourdayshavepassedsinceIwasforcedtodoawaywithhaplessElegant,whowasabrothertome,andonlynowhaveI,tosomeextent,acceptedmysituation.
Iwould’vepreferredtoresolvethisuedandawfuldilemmawithouthavingtodoawaywithanybody,butIkherewasnootherchoice.Ihahematterthenandthere,assumingtheburdenofresponsibility.Icouldhefalseaccusationsofonefoolhardymanendaheentiresocietyofminiaturists.
heless,beingamurderertakessomegettio.I’tstandbeingathome,soIheadouttothestreet.I’tstandmystreet,soIwalkontoanother,andthenanother.AsIstareatpeople’sfaces,Irealizethatmanyofthembelievethey’reibecausetheyhavehadtheopportunitytosnuffoutalife.It’shardtobelievethatmostmenaremoremoralorbetterthanmesimplyonatofsomeminortwistoffate.Atmost,theywearsomewhatstupiderexpressionsbecausetheyhavekilled,andlikeallfools,theyappeartohavegoodiions.AfterItookcareofthatpatheti,wanderireetsofIstanbulforfourdayswasenoughtofirmthateveryohagleamofclevernessinhiseyeandtheshadowofhissoulcastacrosshisfacewasahiddenassassin.Onlyimbecilesarei.
Tonight,forexample,whilewarmingupwithasteamingcoffeeatthecoffeehouselocatedinthebackstreetsoftheslavemarket,gazingatthesketchofadoghangingonthebackwall,Iwasgraduallyfettingmyplightandlaughingwiththerestofthemateverythingthedogreted.Then,Ihadthesensationthatohemenbesidemewasaurdererlikemyself.ThoughhewassimplylaughingatthestorytellerasIwas,myintuitionarked,eitherbythewayhisarmrestednearmineorbythewayherestlesslyrappedhisfingersonhiscup.I’mnotsurehowIknew,butIsuddenlyturnedandlookedhimdirectlyintheeye.Hegaveastartandhisfatorted.Asthecrowddispersed,anacquaintanceofhistookhimbythearmandsaid,“Hoja’smenwillsurelyraidthisplace.”
Raisinganeyebrow,hesighemaheirfeariedme.rustedanyone,everyoneexpectedtobedoanymomentbythemaohim.
Ithadbeeevencolder,andsnowhadaccumulatedoersandatthebasesofwalls.Intheblindnessofnight,Icouldfindmywayalongthenarrowstreetsonlybygropingwithmyhands.Attimes,thedimlightofanoillampstillburningsomewhereinsideawoodenhousefilteredoutfrombehindblaedwindowsanddrawnshutters,reflegonthesnow;butmostly,Icouldseenothing,andfoundmywaybylisteningforthesoundsofwatbangiistones,forthehowlingofmaddogs,orthesoundsingfromhouses.Attimesthenarrowanddreadfulstreetsofthecityseemedtobelitupbyawondrouslightingfromthesnowitself;andinthedarkness,amidtheruinsandtrees,IthoughtIspottedohoseghoststhathavemadeIstanbulsuinousplaceforthousandsofyears.
Fromwithinhouses,nowandagaihenoisesofmiserablepeoplehavingcoughingfitsorsnorwailingastheycriedoutintheirdreams,orIheardtheshoutsofhusbandsandwivesastheytriedtleeachother,theirchildrensobbingattheirfeet.
Foracoupleofnightsinarow,IcametothiscoffeehousetorelivethehappinessI’dfeltbeforebeingamurderer,toraisemyspiritsandtolistentothestoryteller.Mostofmyminiaturistfriends,thebrethrenwithwhomI’dspeirelife,camehereeverynight.SinceI’dsilehatloutwithwhomI’dmadeillustrationssincechildhoodIdidn’twanttoseeanyofthem.
Muchembarrassesmeaboutthelivesofmybrethren,who’tdowithoutgossiping,andaboutthedisgracefulatmosphereofjovialityinthisplace.Ievechedafewpicturesforthestorytellersotheywouldn’taccusemeofceit,butthatfailedtoputaotheirenvy.
They’rejustifiedinbeingjealous.Notohemcouldsurpassmeinmixingcolors,iingandembellishingborders,posingpages,selegsubjects,drawingfaces,arrangingbustlingwarandhuntingsesais,sultans,ships,horses,warriorsandlovers.Notonecouldapproachmymasteryinimbuingillustrationswiththepoetryofthesoul,noteveningilding.I’mning,butexplainingthistoyousoyoumightfullyuandme.Overtime,jealousybeesaasindispensableaspaintinthelifeofthemasterartist.
Duringmywalks,whichgrowincreasinglylongerduetomyrestlessness,Ieface-to-faceoccasionallywithoneofourmostpureandireligioustrymen,andastraionsuddeersmyhead:IfIthink
aboutthefactthatI’mamurderer,themanbeforemewillreaditonmyface.
Therefore,Iforcemyselftothinkofdifferentthings,justasIforcedmyself,writhinginemba松语文学www.16sy.coM免费小说阅读
WhenIfirstreturhoughttherewasoh;later,Iwouldalsoenterlove.Love,however,wasadistantandfottenthing,likemymemoriesofhavinglivediy.ItwasinIstanbul,twelveyearsago,thatIfellhelplesslyihmyyoungcousin.
FouryearsafterIfirstleftIstanbul,whiletravelingthroughtheeeppes,snow-coveredmountainsandmelancholycitiesofPersia,carryiersandcollegtaxes,IadmittedtomyselfthatIwasslowlyfettingthefaceofthechildhoodloveI’dleftbehind.Withgrowingpanic,Itrieddesperatelytorememberher,onlytorealizethatdespitelove,afagnotseenfinallyfades.DurihyearIspenti,travelingasasecretaryintheserviceofpashas,IkhatthefaceIimaginedwasnolohatofmybeloved.Later,ihyear,IfotwhatI’dmistakenlycalledtomindih,andagainvisualizedapletelydifferenttehisway,bythetwelfthyear,wheuromycityattheageofthirty-six,Iainfullyawarethatmybeloved’sfacehadlongsinceescapedme.
Manyofmyfriendsaiveshaddiedduringmytwelve-yearexile.IvisitedthecemeteryoverlookingtheGoldenHornandprayedformymotherandfortheuncleswho’dpassedawayinmyabseheearthysmellofmudmihmymemories.Someonehadbrokehecherbesidemymrave.Forwhateverreason,gazingatthebrokenpieces,Ibegantocry.WasIgforthedeadorbecauseIwas,strangely,stillonlyatthebeginningofmylifeafteralltheseyears?OrwasitbecauseI’detotheendofmylife’sjourney?Afaintsnowfell.Entraheflakesblowinghereandthere,IbecamesolostinthevagariesofmylifethatIdidn’tnoticetheblackdogstaringatmefromadarkerofthecemetery.
Mytearssubsided.Iwipedmynose.IsawtheblackdogwaggingitstailinfriendshipasIleftthecemetery.Sometimelater,Isettledinthborhood,rentihehouseswherearelativeonmyfather’ssideoncelived.ItseemsIremihelandladyofhersonwho’dbeenkilledbySafavidPersiansoldiersatthefrontandsosheagreedtothehouseandcookforme.
IsetoutonlongandsatisfyingwalksthroughthestreetsasifI’dsettlednotinIstanbul,buttemporarilyiheArabcitiesattheotherendoftheworld.Thestreetshadbeenarrower,orsoitseemedtome.Iainareas,onroadssqueezedbetweenhousesleaningtowardoher,Iwasforcedtorubupagainstwallsanddoorstoavoidbeinghitbyladenpackhorses.Thereweremorewealthypeople,orsoitseemedtome.Isawanornatecarriage,acitadeldrawnbyproudhorses,thelikesofwhichcouldn’tbefoundinArabiaorPersia.he“Burntn,”Isawsomebothersomebeggarsdressedinragshuddlingtogetherasthesmellofoffalingfromthechi-sellersmarketwaftedoverthem.Ohemwhowasblindsmiledashewatchedthefallingsnow.
HadIbeentoldIstanbulusedtobeapoorer,smallerandhappiercity,Imightnothavebelievedit,butthat’swhatmyhearttoldme.Thoughmybeloved’shousewaswhereit’dalwaysbeenamonglindenanuttrees,otherswerenowlivingthere,asIlearnedfrominquiringatthedoor.Idiscoveredthatmybeloved’smother,mymaternalaunt,haddied,andthatherhusband,myEnishte,andhisdaughterhadmovedaway.ThisishowIcametolearnthatfatheranddaughterwerethevictimsofcertainmisfortunes,frersansweringthedoor,whoinsuchsituationsareperfectlyforthing,withouttheleastawarenessofhowmercilesslythey’vebrokenyourheartaroyedyourdreams.Iwon’tdescribeallofthistoyounow,butallowmetosaythatasIrecalledwarm,verdantandsunnysummerdaysinthatoldgarden,Ialsonoticediciclesthesizeofmylittlefingerhangingfromthebrahelireeinaplaisery,snowandnowevokednothingbutdeath.
I’dalreadylearnedaboutsomeofwhathadbefalleivesthroughalettermyEnishtesenttomeinTabriz.Inthatletter,heinvitedmebacktoIstanbul,explainingthathereparibookforOurSultanandthathewantedmyhelp.He’dheardthatforaperiodwhileinTabriz,ImadebooksforOttomanpashas,provincialgovernorsandIstanbulites.WhatIdidthenwastousethemoneyadvancedbytswho’dplacedmanuscriptordersinIstanbultolocateminiaturistsandcalligrapherswhowerefrustratedbythewarsandthepresetomansoldiers,buthadleftforKazvinoranotherPersiancity,anditwasthesemasters—plainingofpovertyand—whomIissiooinscribe,illustrateandbindthepagesofthemanuscriptsIwouldthensendbacktoIstanbul.Ifitweren’tfortheloveofillustratingandfinebooksthatmyEnishteinstilledinmeduringmyyouth,Icouldhaveneverinvolvedmyselfinsuchpursuits.
Atthemarketendofthestreet,whereatoimemyEnishtehadlived,Ifoundthebarber,amasterbytrade,inhisshopamongthesamemirrors,straightrazors,pitchersofwaterandsoapbrushes.Icaughthiseye,butI’mnotsurehereizedme.Itdelightedmetoseethatthehead-washingbasin,whigbyafromtheceiling,stilltracedthesameoldarc,swingingbadforthashefilleditwithhotwater.
SomeoftheneighborhoodsandstreetsI’dfrequentedinmyyouthhaddisappearedinashesandsmoke,replacedbyburntruiraydogsgregatedandwheremadtrasfrightehelocalchildren.Inotherareasrazedbyfire,largeaffluenthouseshadbeenbuilt,andIwasastoheirextravagance,bywindowsofthemostexpensiveVeianstainedglass,andbylavishtwo-storyresidehbaywindowssuspendedabovehighwalls.
Asinmanyothercities,moneynolongerhadanyvalueinIstanbul.AtthetimeIreturnedfromtheEast,bakeriesthatoncesoldlargeone-hundreddrachmaloavesofbreadforonesilverowbakedloaveshalfthesizeforthesamepridtheynoloastedthewaytheydidduringmychildhood.Hadmylatemotherseenthedaywhenshe’dhavetospendthreesilverpiecesforadozeneggs,she’dsay,“Weoughttoleavebeforethechisgrowsospoiledtheyshitonusinsteadoftheground.”ButIkheproblemofdevaluedmoneywasthesameeverywhere.ItwasrumoredthatFlemishaianmertshipswerefilledwithchestsofterfeit.Attheroyalmint,wherefivehundredswereoedfromahundreddrachmasofsilver,now,owingtotheendlesswarringwiththePersiahundredsweremintedfromthesameamount.WhenJanissariesdiscoveredthatthesthey’dbeenpaidactuallyfloatedintheGoldenHorhedriedbeansthatfellfromthevegetable-sellerspier,theyrioted,besiegingOurSultan’spalaceasifitwereanenemyfortress.
Aclericbythenameof,whopreachedattheBayazidMosqueandclaimedtobedesdedfrloriousProphetMuhammad,hadmadeanameforhimselfduringthisperiodofimmorality,inflation,crimea.
Thishoja,whowasfromthesmalltownofErzurum,attributedthecatastrophesthathadbefallenIstanbulitenyears—includingtheBah?ekap?andKazanj?lardistrictfires,theplaguesthatclaimedtensofthousands,theendlesswarswiththePersiansatacostoftlesslives,aswellasthelossofsmallOttomanfortressesitoChristiansi—toourhavingstrayedfromthepathoftheProphet,tardfor
thestricturesoftheGloriousKoran,tothetoleraowardChristians,totheopensaleofwiotheplayingofmusistrumentsindervishhouses.
ThepicklesellerwhopassionatelyinformedmeaboutthecleriErzurumsaidthattheterfeits—thenewducats,thefakeflorinsstampedwithlionsaomanswiththeirever-decreasingsilvertent—thatfloodedthemarketsandbazaars,justliketheCircassians,Abkhazians,Mingarians,Bosnians,GeiansandArmenianswhofilledthestreets,weredraggingustowardanabsolutedegradationfromwhichitwouldbedifficulttoescape.Iwastoldthatsdrelsandrebelsweregatheringincoffeehousesandproselytizinguntildawn;thatdestitutemenofdubiouscharacter,opium-addictedmadmenandfollowersoftheoutlawedKalenderidervishsect,claimingtobeonAllah’spath,wouldspendtheirnightsindervishhousesdangtomusic,piergthemselveswithskewersandengaginginallmannerofdepravity,beforebrutallyfugeachotherandanyboystheycouldfind.
Ididn’tknowwhetheritwasthemelodioussoundofalutethatpelledmetofollow,orifinthemuddleofmymemoriesanddesires,Icouldsimplynolongerehevirulentpickleseller,andseizeduponthemusicasawayoutoftheversation.Ido,however,knowthis:Whenyouloveacityandhaveexploreditfrequentlyonfoot,yourbody,nottomentionyoursoul,getstoknowthestreetssowellafteranumberofyearsthatinafitofmelancholy,perhapsstirredbyalightsnowfallingeversosorrowfully,you’lldiscoveryscarryingyouoftheirownaccordtowardoneofyourfavoritepromontories.
ThiswashoeoleavetheFarrier’sMarketandendedupwatgthesnowasitfellintotheGoldenHornfromaspotbesidetheSüleymaniyeMosque:Snowhadalreadybeguntoaccumulateontherooftopsfaorthandoionsofthedomeexposedtothenortheasterlybreeze.
Anapproagship,whosesailswerebeinglreetedmewithaflutterofvas.ThecolorofitssailsmatchedtheleadenandfoggyhueofthesurfaceoftheGoldenHorn.Thecypressandplaherooftops,theheartacheofdusk,thesoundsingfromtheneighborhoodbelow,thecallsofhawkersandthecriesofchildrenplayinginmosquecourtyardsmingledinmyheadandannouncedemphaticallythat,hereafter,Iwouldn’tbeabletoliveanywherebutintheircity.Ihadthesensationthatmybeloved’sface,whichhadescapedmeforyears,mightsuddenlyappeartome.
Ibegantowalkdownthehillandmeldedintothecrowds.Aftertheeveningprayerwascalled,Ifilledmystomachatalivershop.Iy
shop,Ilistenedcarefullytotheowner,whofondlywatchedmeeateachbiteasifhewerefeedingacat.Takinghisdfollowinghisdires,Ifoundmyselfturningdowhenarrowalleysbehindtheslavemarket—wellafterthestreetshadbeedark—andlocatedthecoffeehouse.
Iwascrowdedandwarm.Thestoryteller,thelikesofwhomIhadseeninTabrizandinPersiancitiesandwhowasknownthereaboutsasa“curtain-caller,”erchedonaraisedplatformbesidethewood-burningstove.Hehadunfoldedandhungbeforethecroicture,thefigureofadogdrawnhpaperhastilybutwithacertainelegance.Hewasgivingvoicetothedog,andpointing,fromtimetotime,atthedrawing.
IAMADOGAsyoudoubtlesstell,dearfriends,myesaresolongandpoiheybarelyfitintomymouth.Iknowthisgivesmeamenagappearaitpleasesme.Notigthesizeofmyteeth,abutcherohegalltosay,“MyGod,that’snodogatall,it’sawildboar!”
Ibithimsohardohatmyessankrightthroughhisfattyfleshtothehardnessofhisthighbone.F,yousee,nothingisassatisfyingassinkinghisteethintohismiserableenemyinafitofinstinctualwrath.Whensuopportunitypresentsitself,thatis,whenmyvictim,whodeservestobebitten,stupidlyandunknowinglypassesby,myteethtwingeandaanticipation,myheadspinswithlongingandwithoutevenmeaningto,Iemitahair-raisinggrowl.
I’madog,andbecauseyouhumansarelessratiosthanI,you’retellingyourselves,“Dogsdon’ttalk.”heless,youseemtobelieveastoryinwhichcorpsesspeakandcharactersusewordstheycouldn’tpossiblyknow.
Dogsdospeak,butonlytothosewhoknowhowtolisten.
Onceuponatime,long,longago,inafarawayland,abrashcleriaprovincialtownarrivedatohelargestmosquesinacapitalcity;allright,let’scallittheBayazidMosque.It’dbeappropriatetowithholdhisname,solet’srefertohimas“HusretHoja.”ButwhyshouldIcoverupanythingmore:
Thismanwasoneboneheadedcleric.Hemadeupforthemodestyofhisintellectwiththepowerofhistongue,Godblessit.EachFriday,hesoanimatedhisgregation,somovedthemtotearsthatsomewouldtiltheyfaintedordriedupandwitheredaway.Domewrong,uherclericswiththegiftofpreag,hehimselfdidn’tweep.Orary,whileeveryoneelsecried,heintensifiedhisorationwithoutablinkasiftochastisethegregation.Inallprobability,thegardeners,royalpages,halvamakers,riffraffandclericslikehimselfbecamehislackeysbecausetheyehetonguelashihismanwasnodogafterall,nosir,hewasahumanbeing—tobehumanistoerr—andbeforethoseenthralledcrowds,helosthimselfwhehatintimidatingthrongsofpeopleleasurableasbringiears.Whenheuoodthattherewasmuchmorebreadtobemadeinthisure,hewehetopandhadtheosaythefollowing:
“Thesolereasonforrisingprices,plagueandmilitarydefeatliesinettingtheIslamofthetimeloriousProphetandfallingswayto
falsehoods.WastheProphet’sbirthepicreadinmemoryofthedeadbackthen?Wasthefortieth-dayceremonyperformed,wheresweetslikehalvaandfrieddoughareofferedtohonorthedead?WhenMuhammadlived,wastheGloriousKoraedmelodically,likeasoheprayerscalledhaughtilyandpompouslytoshowhowcloseone’sArabicwastoanArab’s?
Wastheresuchathingasregthecalltoprayercoyly,withtheflourishofamanimitatingawoman?Today,peoplepleadbefravesites,beggingforamends.Theyhopefortheinterventionofthedeadontheirbehalf.Theyvisitthetombsofsaintsandworshipatgraveslikepagansbeforepiecesofstone.
Theytievotivepiecesofclotheverywhere,andmakepromisesofsacrifireturnforato.WeretheredervishsectarianswhospreadsuchbeliefsinMuhammad’stime?IbnArabi,theintellectualmentorofthesesectarians,becameasinnerbyswearingthattheinfidelPharaohhaddiedabeliever.
Thesedervishes,theMevlevis,theHalvetis,theKalenderisandthosewhosingtheKorantomusicalapaorjustifydangwithchildrenandjuvenilesbysaying”wepraytogetheranyway,whynot?“areallkaffirs.Dervishlodgesoughttobedestroyed,theirfoundationsexcavatedtoadepthofsevenellsandthecollectedearthcastintothesea.Onlythenmightritualprayersbeperformedthereagain.”
IheardtellthatthisHusretHoja,takingmattersevenfurther,declaredwithspittleflyingfromhismouth,“Ah,mydevotedbelievers!Thedrinkingofcoffeeisanabsolutesin!loriousProphetdidnotpartakeofcoffeebecausehekdulledtheintellect,causedulcers,herniaandsterility;heuoodthatcoffeewasnothingbuttheDevil’sruse.Coffeehousesareplaceswherepleasure-seekersahygadaboutssitko-knee,involvingthemselvesinallsortsofvulgarbehavior;infact,evenbeforethedervishhousesareclosed,coffeehousesoughttobebanned.Dothepoorhaveenoughmoodrinkcoffee?Menfrequenttheseplaces,beebesottedwithcoffeeandlosetroloftheirmentalfacultiestothepointthattheyactuallylistentoandbelievewhatdogsandmongrelshavetosay.Butthosewhocursemeandion,itistheywhoarethetruemongrels.”
Withyourpermission,I’dliketorespondtothislastentbytheesteemedcleric.Ofcourse,itisonkhathajis,hojas,cleridpreachersdespiseusdogs.Inmyopinion,thewholemattersourreveredProphetMuhammad,peadblessingsbeuponhim,whocutoffapieceofhisrobeuponwhichacatlaysleepingratherthahebeast.Bypointingoutthisaffeshowntothecat,whichhasiallybeendeousdogs,aooureternalfeudwiththisfeli,whicheveupidestofmenreizesasaningrate,peoplehavetriedto
intimatethattheProphethimselfdislikeddogs.They’revihatwe’lldefilethoseerformedritualablutions,andtheresultofthiserroneousandslanderousbeliefisthatwe’vebeenbarredfrommosquesforturiesandhavesufferedbeatingsintheircourtyardsfrombroomstick-wieldingcaretakers.
Allowmetoremindyouof“TheCave,”themostbeautifuloftheKoran’schapters.I’mremindingyounotbecauseIsuspecttheremaybethosewhoneverreadtheKoranamongusinthisgoodcoffeehouse,butbecauseIwanttorefreshyourmemories:Thischapterretsthestoryofthesevenyouthswhogrowtiredoflivingamongpagansandtakerefugeinacavewheretheyenteradeepsleep.Allahtheheirearsandcausesthemtodozeoffforexactlythreehundredandnineyears.Whentheyawake,theylearnjusthowmanyyearshavepassedonlyafterohemehesocietyofmenandtriestospendanoutdatedsilver.Allofthemarestuolearnwhathashappehischaptersubtlydescribesman’sattattoAllah,Hismiracles,thetransitorynatureoftimeandthepleasureofdeepsleep,andthoughit’snotmyplace,allowmetoremindyouoftheeighteenthverse,whichmakesmentionofadogrestingatthemouthofthiscavewherethesevenyouthshavefallenasleep.Obviously,anyonewouldbeproudtoappearintheKoran.Asadog,Itakeprideinthischapter,andthroughitIitheErzurumis,whorefertotheirenemiesasdirtymootheirsenses.
Sothen,what’stheactualreasonforthisanimosityts?Whydoyoupersistinsayingthatdogsareimpure,andingandpurifyingyourhomesfromtoptobottomifadoghappeer?Whydoyoubelievethatthosewhotouchusspoiltheirablutions?Ifyourcaftanbrushesagainstourdampfur,whydoyouinsistonwashingthatcaftaimeslikeafrenziedwoman?Onlytinsmithscouldberesponsiblefortheslahatapotlickedbyadogmustbethrownawayorretinned.Orperhaps,yes,cats…Whenpeoplelefttheirvillagesforthesedentarylifeofthecity,shepherddogsremaiheprovihat’swhenrumorsofthefilthinessofdogslikemebegantospread.YetbeforetheadventofIslam,twoofthetwelvemonthsoftheyearwere“monthsofthedog.”Now,however,adogissideredabadomen.Idon’twanttoburdenyouwithmyownproblems,mydearfriendswhohaveetohearastoryandposmoral—tobeho,myangerarisesoutoftheesteemedcleric’sattacksuponourcoffeehouses.
WhatwouldyouthinkifIsaidthatthisHusretofErzurumwasofdubiousbirth?Butthey’vealsosaidofme,“Whatkindofdogdoyouthinkyouare?
You’reattagthevenerableclericbecauseyourmasterisapicture-hangingstorytellerwhotellstalesatacoffeehouseandyouwanttoprotecthim.Goon,scat!”Godforbid,I’mnotdenigratingaI’magreatadmirerofourcoffeehouses.Youknow,IhavenoproblemwiththefactthatmyportraitwasdrawnonsuchcheappaperorthatI’mafgedbeast,butIdretthatI’tsitdownlikeamanandhaveacupofcoffeewithyou.We’ddieforourcoffeeandourcoffeehouses—what’sthis?See,mymasterispcoffeeformefromasmallcoffeepot.Apicture’tdrinkcoffee,yousay?
Please!Seeforyourselves,thisdogishappilylappingaway.
Ah,yes,thathitthespot,it’swarmedmeup,sharpenedmysightandquiedmythoughts.NowlistentowhatIhavetotellyou:Besidesboltsofesesilksandesepotteryadorhblueflowers,whatdidtheVeianDogesendtoNurhayatSultaeemeddaughterofourrespectedSultan?AsoftandcuddlyVeianshe-dogwithacoatofsilkandsable.Iheardthatthisbitchissospoiledshehasaredsilkdressaswell.Oneofourfriendsactuallyfuckedher,that’showIknow,andshe’teveneheactwithoutherdress.InthatFrankishlandofhers,alldogswearoutfitslikethatanyway.I’veheardtellthatoverthereaso-calledelegantandwell-bredVeianwomansawanakeddog—ormaybeshesawitsthing,I’mnotsure—anyway,shescreamed,“MydearGod,thedogisnaked!”andfainteddeadaway.
InthelandsoftheinfidelFranks,theso-calledEuropeans,everydoghasahesepooranimalsareparadedoreetswithsaroundtheirnecks,they’refetteredlikethemostmiserableofslavesanddraggedaroundinisolation.TheseFranksforcethepoorbeastsintotheirhomesaotheirbeds.Dogsaretedtowalkwithoher,letalonesniffandfrolictogether.Inthatdespicablestate,ins,theydonothingbutgazeforlornlyateachotherfromadistancewhentheypassoreet.DogswhoroamthestreetsofIstanbulfreelyinpaduhewaywedo,dogswhothreatenpeopleifnecessary,whocurlupinawarmerorstretchoutintheshadeandsleeppeacefully,andwhoshitwherevertheywantandbitewhomevertheywant,suchdogsarebeyondtheinfidels’ception.It’snotthatIhaven’tthoughtthatthismightbewhythefollowersoftheErzurumiopposeprayingfsandfeedingthemmeatoreetsofIstanbulinexgefordivinefavorsandevenwhytheyopposetheestablishmentofcharitiesthatperformsuchservices.Iftheyintendboth
totreatusasenemiesandmakeinfidelsofus,letmeremihatbeingaodogsandbeinganinfidelareohesame.Atthe,Ihope,nottoodistaionsofthesedisgracefulmen,Iprayourexecutionerfriendsiotakeabite,astheysometimesdotosetadeterringexample.
BeforeIfinish,letmesaythis:Mypreviousmasterwasaveryjustman.
Wheatnighttothieve,we’dcooperate:I’dbegintobark,andhe’dcutthethroatofourvictimwhosescreamswouldbedrowbymybarking.Iurnformyhelp,he’dcutuptheguiltymenthathe’dpunished,boilthemahemtome.Idon’tlikerawmeat.Godwilling,thewould-beexecutiohatcleriErzurumwilltakethisintoatsoIwon’tupsetmystomachwiththatsdrel’srawflesh.
IWILLBECALLEDAMURDERERNay,Iwouldn’thavebelievedIcouldtakeanyone’slife,evenifI’dbeentoldsomomentsbeforeImurderedthatfool;andthus,myoffeimesrecedesfrommelikeafngalleondisappearingonthehorizon.Nowandagain,IevenfeelasifIhaven’tittedanycrimeatall.FourdayshavepassedsinceIwasforcedtodoawaywithhaplessElegant,whowasabrothertome,andonlynowhaveI,tosomeextent,acceptedmysituation.
Iwould’vepreferredtoresolvethisuedandawfuldilemmawithouthavingtodoawaywithanybody,butIkherewasnootherchoice.Ihahematterthenandthere,assumingtheburdenofresponsibility.Icouldhefalseaccusationsofonefoolhardymanendaheentiresocietyofminiaturists.
heless,beingamurderertakessomegettio.I’tstandbeingathome,soIheadouttothestreet.I’tstandmystreet,soIwalkontoanother,andthenanother.AsIstareatpeople’sfaces,Irealizethatmanyofthembelievethey’reibecausetheyhavehadtheopportunitytosnuffoutalife.It’shardtobelievethatmostmenaremoremoralorbetterthanmesimplyonatofsomeminortwistoffate.Atmost,theywearsomewhatstupiderexpressionsbecausetheyhavekilled,andlikeallfools,theyappeartohavegoodiions.AfterItookcareofthatpatheti,wanderireetsofIstanbulforfourdayswasenoughtofirmthateveryohagleamofclevernessinhiseyeandtheshadowofhissoulcastacrosshisfacewasahiddenassassin.Onlyimbecilesarei.
Tonight,forexample,whilewarmingupwithasteamingcoffeeatthecoffeehouselocatedinthebackstreetsoftheslavemarket,gazingatthesketchofadoghangingonthebackwall,Iwasgraduallyfettingmyplightandlaughingwiththerestofthemateverythingthedogreted.Then,Ihadthesensationthatohemenbesidemewasaurdererlikemyself.ThoughhewassimplylaughingatthestorytellerasIwas,myintuitionarked,eitherbythewayhisarmrestednearmineorbythewayherestlesslyrappedhisfingersonhiscup.I’mnotsurehowIknew,butIsuddenlyturnedandlookedhimdirectlyintheeye.Hegaveastartandhisfatorted.Asthecrowddispersed,anacquaintanceofhistookhimbythearmandsaid,“Hoja’smenwillsurelyraidthisplace.”
Raisinganeyebrow,hesighemaheirfeariedme.rustedanyone,everyoneexpectedtobedoanymomentbythemaohim.
Ithadbeeevencolder,andsnowhadaccumulatedoersandatthebasesofwalls.Intheblindnessofnight,Icouldfindmywayalongthenarrowstreetsonlybygropingwithmyhands.Attimes,thedimlightofanoillampstillburningsomewhereinsideawoodenhousefilteredoutfrombehindblaedwindowsanddrawnshutters,reflegonthesnow;butmostly,Icouldseenothing,andfoundmywaybylisteningforthesoundsofwatbangiistones,forthehowlingofmaddogs,orthesoundsingfromhouses.Attimesthenarrowanddreadfulstreetsofthecityseemedtobelitupbyawondrouslightingfromthesnowitself;andinthedarkness,amidtheruinsandtrees,IthoughtIspottedohoseghoststhathavemadeIstanbulsuinousplaceforthousandsofyears.
Fromwithinhouses,nowandagaihenoisesofmiserablepeoplehavingcoughingfitsorsnorwailingastheycriedoutintheirdreams,orIheardtheshoutsofhusbandsandwivesastheytriedtleeachother,theirchildrensobbingattheirfeet.
Foracoupleofnightsinarow,IcametothiscoffeehousetorelivethehappinessI’dfeltbeforebeingamurderer,toraisemyspiritsandtolistentothestoryteller.Mostofmyminiaturistfriends,thebrethrenwithwhomI’dspeirelife,camehereeverynight.SinceI’dsilehatloutwithwhomI’dmadeillustrationssincechildhoodIdidn’twanttoseeanyofthem.
Muchembarrassesmeaboutthelivesofmybrethren,who’tdowithoutgossiping,andaboutthedisgracefulatmosphereofjovialityinthisplace.Ievechedafewpicturesforthestorytellersotheywouldn’taccusemeofceit,butthatfailedtoputaotheirenvy.
They’rejustifiedinbeingjealous.Notohemcouldsurpassmeinmixingcolors,iingandembellishingborders,posingpages,selegsubjects,drawingfaces,arrangingbustlingwarandhuntingsesais,sultans,ships,horses,warriorsandlovers.Notonecouldapproachmymasteryinimbuingillustrationswiththepoetryofthesoul,noteveningilding.I’mning,butexplainingthistoyousoyoumightfullyuandme.Overtime,jealousybeesaasindispensableaspaintinthelifeofthemasterartist.
Duringmywalks,whichgrowincreasinglylongerduetomyrestlessness,Ieface-to-faceoccasionallywithoneofourmostpureandireligioustrymen,andastraionsuddeersmyhead:IfIthink
aboutthefactthatI’mamurderer,themanbeforemewillreaditonmyface.
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