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“Happiness no longer seemed God’s gift to me from birth; no longer was it the right I could claim without effort; it had become a state of grace that only the luckiest, brightest, and most cautious people could attain, and with the most assiduous cultivation.”
The Museum of Innocence by Orhan Pamuk.
This is a really interesting, provocative, rather beautiful, rather disturbing book about the relationship between Turkish history/ identity, love and raki.I went into it thinking “ what am I going to get out of this? “ I came out of it thinking “oh like all great literature what I got was the sense that I was somebody else.” Pamuk’s ability to articulate a way of seeing the world as a place, a way of life seems to me persuasive and surprising.
To read a book in 2022 like the museum of innocence, in a time where literature become a set of matching boxes tailored specifically to win prizes,and covered with layers of political correctness that would suffocate both you and the text is an absolute act of resistance ( oops I got political myself)
Pamuk is a craftsman, he writes too well and I could never praise him enough, you’ll only understand until you read his work.
I’m trying to collect my thoughts on my experience reading this book. All I can say is that it’s one of the few works of literature that left me spinning in a beautiful chaos of feelings and thoughts
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“The power of things inheres in the memories they gather up inside them, and also in the vicissitudes of our imagination, and our memory--of this there is no doubt.”
Hayatımın en mutlu anıymış, bilmiyordum. He was the happiest moment of my life, I didn’t know.
Orhan Pamuk, The Museum Of Innocence
#themuseumofinnocence #orhanpamuk #istanbul