‘Istanbul’ features rich, complex characters, a little magic

Flint Journal (Michigan)
April 1, 2007 Sunday
THE FLINT JOURNAL FIRST EDITION

‘Istanbul’ features rich, complex characters, a little magic;
FLINT JOURNAL REVIEW

by Carol Azizian, [email protected] * 810.766.6245

If "every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way," as Tolstoy said,
then the families in Elif Shafak’s latest novel, "The Bastard of
Istanbul," surely have an edge on dysfunction.

Shafak weaves a complex web of characters with magic realism and
historical events but focuses on two extended families – a Turkish
one in Istanbul and an Armenian one in San Francisco and Tucson.

The Tchakhmakhchians, an Armenian family, can’t seem to forget their
tragic history of massacres and deportations. The Kazancis, a Turkish
family, live in a state of denial or ignorance – much like the
Turkish state, which has not yet acknowledged the genocide of 1.5
million Armenians in 1915.

"The Bastard of Istanbul" is Shafak’s second novel in English and
some critics contend that she’s still finding her voice in that
language.

I, too, stumbled over several sentences (for example, "sex is far
more sensual than physical"). At times, her digression into magic
realism, along with her enormous cast of characters, grow tiresome
and overwhelming.

But Shafak challenges the reader and tackles profound subjects with
wit and wisdom.

The lives of the two families intersect when Armanoush, an
intellectually curious woman who discusses Armenian/Turkish relations
in a cybercafe, travels to Turkey to visit the family of Mustafa, her
stepfather. (Her biological father is Armenian; her mother is from
Kentucky.) Mustafa is the long-lost brother of the Kazanci clan.

That clan includes Mustafa’s outrageous sisters: Zeliha, the bold,
sexy owner of a tattoo parlor; Banu, a clairvoyant who believes she’s
informed by djinns on each shoulder, one evil, one good; Feride,
whose hairstyles change as often as her mental diagnoses; and
Cevriye, a teacher of Turkish history who spouts propaganda.

Asya, a 19-year-old existentialist who loves Johnny Cash, is Zeliha’s
daughter and the "bastard" of the title. She forms a bond with
Armanoush, her American contemporary.

With the exception of Armanoush, most of the women are a bit
off-kilter or just plain zany.

Especially entertaining for anyone who comes from an ethnic
background is the section where Armanoush posts a "self-scoring test
(on an Internet forum) that measured the degree of one’s
‘Armenianness.’"

"The Bastard of Istanbul" is a book that titillates the senses, with
the sights, smells and sounds of Istanbul coming through vividly.

The secrets uncovered in the journey are intriguing and by the end,
deeply disturbing. The story ends unresolved, much like the political
stalemate between Turkey and Armenia. But its universal message is
undeniable (consider Darfur, for one).

Shafak knows all too well the consequences of discussing a taboo
subject like the genocide in her homeland. She was tried in the
Turkish courts, and later acquitted, of "insulting Turkishness"
because some of her fictional characters talk about it. In one
segment, she flashes back to the past and depicts graphic scenes from
the massacres.

Like the Nobel Prize-winning Turkish author Orhan Pamuk, Shafak has
become a target of rightist groups and a popular figure among the
literati of Turkey.

A professor at the University of Arizona, she curtailed her American
book tour after the murder of Hrant Dink, a prominent Turkish
newspaper editor of Armenian ancestry and a friend of hers.

In Turkey, "eventually, every writer has to face the question – are
you ready to be a public intellectual?" she told The New York Times.

Give Shafak a few more years and she’ll master the English language
while turning out even more provocative novels. No doubt she’ll
become a public intellectual here, too.

Carol Azizian is a feature writer in The Journal’s Today section.

NOTES: THE BASTARD OF ISTANBUL

By Elif Shafak

Viking, 357 pages