My Name is Red

    youslewamanandthenfelloutwithoneanotherconcerninghim.—koran,thecow.theblindandtheseeingarenotequal.—koran,thecreator.togodbelongstheeastandthewest.unlikemanyofhischaracters,orhanpamukhasneverlivedbeyondthecitywherehewasborn,butinacitylikeistanbultherearealreadyhundredsoflifetimesofstoriesyettobetold.still,atthebridgebetweeneuropeandasiaitcanseemthatalmostmuchofthefarawayworldshasalreadypassedthroughthesefamousnarrows,andtracesstilllaycollectinginthecitiesbyzantinealleyways.mynameisredisaruminatingmysteryhauntedbylove,art,religion,andpolitics.itisinfusedwithcultures,legends,historyandphilosophythatalldriftthroughthenarrativelikewispsofsmoke.thetenseinterplaybetweenancienttraditionsandhumanpassionsisbrilliantlyillustratedthroughintersectingstoriesofpainting,romance,faith,andmurder.slowly,piecebypiece,avarietyofhighlysubjectivefirst-personnarratorsbuildthestoryoutofbeguilingdialogueandenchantingtangents.fascinatingly,thefragmentsallbegintofoldinuponeachother,graduallyfusingintoasingledramaticconclusion.desolatewinterintheancientcityprofusewithrichtexturesanddisparatevoicescomestolifewiththepassion,melancholyandelegant,evocativecomplexityofanarabesqueilluminationorbyzantinemosaic.