Orhan Pamuk

In Istanbul, in the late the Sultan secretly commissions a great book: a celebration of his life and his empire, to be illuminated by the best artists of the day -- in the European manner. But when one of the miniaturists is murdered, their master has to seek outside help. Didthe dead painter fall victim to professional rivalry, romantic jealousy or religious terror? 

A thrilling murder mystery, Mv Name is Red is also a stunning meditation on love, artistic devotion and the tensions between East and West
--back cover

My Name Is Red

Aske Dørge

Francesco

Forty years ago, the Persian Shah Tahmasp, who was the archenemy of the Ottomans as well as the world's greatest patron-king of the art of painting, began to grow senile and lost his enthusiasm for wine, music, poetry and painting; furthermore, he quit drinking coffee, and naturally, his brain stopped working.

Full of the suspicions of a long-faced, dark-spirited old geezer, he transferred his capital from Tabriz [...] to Kazvin so it would be farther from the Ottoman armies. One day when he had grown even older, he was possessed by a jinn, had a nervous fit, and begging God's forgiveness, completely swore off wine, handsome young boys and painting, which is proof enough that after this great shah lost his taste for coffee, he also lost his mind.

Uluğ Bey responded that his own miniaturists knew those words and stories, but still couldn't order the pictures. "Because", said the old miniaturist, "they think quite well when it comes to painting, which is their skill or their art, but they don't comprehend that the old masters made these pictures out of the memories of Allah Himself."

Uluğ Bey asked how a child could know such things. "The child doesn't know", said the old miniaturist. "But I, an elderly and blind miniaturist, know that Allah created this worldly realm the way an intelligent seven-years-old boy would want to see it; what's more, Allah created this earthly realm so that, above all, it might be seen.

Afterwards, He provided us with words so that we might share and discuss with one another what we've seen. We mistakenly assumed that these stories arose out of words and that illustrations were painted in service of these stories. Quite the contrary, painting is the act of seeking out Allah's memories ad seeing the world as He sees the world."

Books, which we mistake for consolation, only add depth to our sorrow

Only Butterfly's sensitivity and faith in his own palette could resist the Venetian artistry that duped the viewer by trying to depict reality itself rather than its representation, in all its detail, pictures, shadows included, of cardinals, bridges, rowboats, and stables, oxen and carriage wheels, as if all of them were of the same importance to Allah.

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