Hardcover, 417 pages
English language
Published March 13, 2001 by Alfred A. Knopf.
From one of the most important and acclaimed writers at work today, a thrilling new novel—part murder mystery, part love story—set amid the perils of religious repression in sixteenth-century Istanbul.
When the Sultan commissions a great book to celebrate his royal self and his extensive dominion, he directs Enishte Effendi to assemble a cadre of the most acclaimed artists in the land. Their task: to illuminate the work in the European style. But because figurative art can be deemed an affront to Islam, this commission is a dangerous proposition indeed, and no one in the elite circle can know the full scope or nature of the project. Panic erupts when one of the chosen miniaturists disappears, and the Sultan demands answers within three days. The only clue to the mystery—or crime?—lies in the half-finished illuminations themselves. Has an avenging angel discovered the blasphemous work? Or is a jealous contender for …
From one of the most important and acclaimed writers at work today, a thrilling new novel—part murder mystery, part love story—set amid the perils of religious repression in sixteenth-century Istanbul.
When the Sultan commissions a great book to celebrate his royal self and his extensive dominion, he directs Enishte Effendi to assemble a cadre of the most acclaimed artists in the land. Their task: to illuminate the work in the European style. But because figurative art can be deemed an affront to Islam, this commission is a dangerous proposition indeed, and no one in the elite circle can know the full scope or nature of the project. Panic erupts when one of the chosen miniaturists disappears, and the Sultan demands answers within three days. The only clue to the mystery—or crime?—lies in the half-finished illuminations themselves. Has an avenging angel discovered the blasphemous work? Or is a jealous contender for the hand of Enishte’s ravishing daughter, the incomparable Shekure, somehow to blame?
Orhan Pamuk’s My Name Is Red is at once a fantasy and a philosophical puzzle, a kaleidoscopic journey to the intersection of art, religion, love, sex, and power. (front flap)
Thriller policiaco, en la turquia antigua, un excelente estilo literario, un gran manejo de los tiempos, actores, su descripcion me hace imaginar oscuridad, noche, tinieblas misterio, todo elementos para este desarrollo policiaco, lo compare, toda proporcion guardada, ( otros tiempos, otros modos ) con el nombre de la rosa de Humberto Ecco
3,75
historischer Kriminalroman und leidenschaftliche Liebes- geschichte und jede Menge Knabenerotik. Der Leser lernt viel über die Welt um 1500 im Vorderorient.
Sehr schöner historischer Roman, der Einblicke in eine völlig fremde Welt gibt. Sehr gutes Buch. Lesen!
I read the German Edition!
A great novel. Enter a very secret world. Include boy erotism and how to paint Oriental pictures. Learn how painful it is...
If you want, take a look into "Journey into Disaster" available on Amazon as eBook or Paperback by
Konstantin von Weberg
This is the most boring book I've ever read. I feel like absolutely nothing happened in the story, and the book was just narrative about art.
My name is black. I am Red. I, Shekure. All things appear equal in the eyes of Allah.
A beautiful painting in a book. A medium transcribed, with the visions of the story from all angles portrayed through the individual perspectives of each chapter/painting. A subtle and intelligent murder mystery, a romantic tale, a classic, told through the eyes of portraits in a way that contorts the reader and makes them re-think everything they could know about art and perspective. Absolutely spectacular.
Susan found the book a plod. Stephanie loved it. Jenna didn't finish it, because the library had passed out all 15 copies (and where are these people?) and she had to request a hold to get one. The structure was interesting. As a murder mystery it was a dud, partly because you didn't care much about the suspects. (Hell, you could barely tell them apart.) But the plot was merely the skeleton of the book, upon which Pamuk hung stories, fables, discussions of the nature of art, and pros and cons of individual style and ego.
"My Name is Red" by Orhan Pamuk is a brilliant, well-written book. The author, a recent Nobel Laureate in Literature, is one of my favorites and his "Istanbul: Memories of a City" is one of my favorite books. His strength lies in the ability to articulate the odd position of Istanbul, as a city forever straddling West and East. These complicated questions of identity are combined with a sort of "mischievousness" or playfulness with the world (I cannot think of a better way to describe it) which permeates his writing and makes it so enjoyable.
The book is craftily constructed- each chapter is a first-person narrative of a different part of the story by a different person (sometimes drawings or paintings themselves). But "My Name is Red," which is one of Pamuk's more popular novels, seems to exist uneasily in two different genres. The first is a mystery: a group …
"My Name is Red" by Orhan Pamuk is a brilliant, well-written book. The author, a recent Nobel Laureate in Literature, is one of my favorites and his "Istanbul: Memories of a City" is one of my favorite books. His strength lies in the ability to articulate the odd position of Istanbul, as a city forever straddling West and East. These complicated questions of identity are combined with a sort of "mischievousness" or playfulness with the world (I cannot think of a better way to describe it) which permeates his writing and makes it so enjoyable.
The book is craftily constructed- each chapter is a first-person narrative of a different part of the story by a different person (sometimes drawings or paintings themselves). But "My Name is Red," which is one of Pamuk's more popular novels, seems to exist uneasily in two different genres. The first is a mystery: a group of miniaturists in 16th century Istanbul are working on a secret manuscript for the Sultan done in the "Frankish" method. One of them ends up dead and it takes the investigations of Black Effendi to find out which of the miniaturists is the killer. The second is a meditation on art and perception. Both of these things would exist fine on their own but at times, I found their marriage to be difficult. I found the mystery to be confusing and obtuse and the philosophy a bit irritating when I wanted to focus on the mystery. Also, I personally was not interested with the topic of the philosophy.
I think the work is unique but is one which I did not enjoy as much as I had expected. Perhaps the idea of the book not meeting my expectations is part of the problem- I had approached the book looking for perhaps more of a straight forward mystery and got something much more complex. This book is not a simple narrative and should be read when one can fully devote time and concentration to its very interesting ideas- if not, you may miss something.
