Translated from Turkish by Brendan Freely and Yelda Türedi
Review copy from the publisher
In the end I actually ended up with two copies of this book, one kindly sent by the publisher as stated above – the second as part of my Asymptote book club subscription. I passed on the second copy to a friend.
I was interested in this novel primarily because I know nothing about Turkish history, yet it is such a colourful and vibrant culture, that I was keen to learn more. Like a Sword Wound is the first book in the Ottoman Quartet – which has been described by professional reviewers as being Tolstoyan in its scope. An historical epic isn’t usually my thing these days – though I have loved historical fiction in the past. There is great drama here though – and I was quickly swept up by the characters and the setting.
Before I get on to the book though, a word about the author – Ahmet Altan – his story is a sobering one. A prominent journalist and author, Ahmet Altan has been an advocate for Kurdish and Armenian minorities. When he was imprisoned on false charges in 2016 there was widespread international outrage, but despite that he is serving a life sentence – and I read somewhere that he continues to write from his prison cell.
“True love is like a sword wound, and even when the wound heals a deep scar remains.”
The novel begins towards the end of the Ottoman empire – around the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century. Altan brings the ancient city of Istanbul to glorious life – the scents and sounds; lemon, figs, the sea and the call to prayer. Here Sultan Abdul Hamid II holds absolute power, believing he is anointed by God. No criticism of the sultan is permitted, and the city is one almost paralysed by fear, suspicion and paranoia. In various corners of the city however dissent is already being whispered, there are those who seek to end the tyranny dished out by the sultan and those who do his bidding.
“The big roundup began the following morning, and a number of pashas and hundreds of officers were picked up from their homes and brought to Balmumcu barracks; in town, whispers of “they’ve caught the plotters, and some of them will be hanged” began to spread, and the fear that lurked beneath Istanbul like a monster and emerged from time to time began to stalk about like an epidemic. Civilians were arrested as well, those who had been denounced, and everyone was denouncing their enemies as “Fuat Pasha’s loyal followers.”
The story is narrated by Osman a middle-aged man living alone in modern day Turkey. He is visited by the spirits of his ancestors – who tell him their stories. In this way Osman becomes the omniscient narrator of events which happened long before he was born. It is an unusual device – and one that I didn’t feel got in the way of the main narrative, and perhaps serves to remind us how close in fact the modern era is to these seemingly distant events.
As the novel opens Sheikh Yusuf Efendi is marrying Mehpare Hanim, the daughter of a customs director. Sheikh Efendi is the leader of the tekke – a dervish monastery. Despite still being quite young, he is seen as a wise man – his wisdom sought by people from all over the city – he is a gentle, religious man, often embarrassed and confused by his own more human feelings and desires. Mehpare Hanim is an extraordinary beauty, sexually adventurous and quite unsuited to the man she married. After their daughter is born the marriage breaks down and the couple divorce.
Mehpare Hanim re-marries, her second husband is Hüseyin Hikmet Bey, the son of the Sultan’s physician and his estranged wife Mihrişah Sultan. Mihrişah Sultan is an Egyptian beauty, she enjoys the affect her looks have on men – though is uninterested in remarrying, still only in her early forties, she unleashes a fierce jealousy in her new daughter-in-law, and scandalises Istanbul when she visits the city from her home in Paris – walking around with her head uncovered.
“From the moment Mihrisah Sultan and her daughter-in-law met, the two women’s beauty collided with all their force like two trains; in that fleeting moment, of which none but the two of them were aware, they looked at each other in terror, admiration, jealousy, and hatred, and felt the magnitude of the collision in the depths of their souls. Each believed that no one could be more beautiful than herself, yet both suspected that the other might be more beautiful.”
Hikmet Bey is a very Europeanised young man having spent several years in Paris. Mehpare soon draws her husband into her sex games and in time they draw the French governess in too. This all struck me as being fairly typical male fantasy stuff – though Altan never goes too far – it’s pretty tame. However, I was a little concerned about his view and portrayal of women. A discussion on the Asymptote members Facebook group suggested that all the characters are caricature of a type – which I can see – but it still left me feeling uncomfortable. These women are strong though, and the author doesn’t appear to be vilifying them in any way.
Another character; Ragip Bey – destined to be Osman’s grandfather – is a young army lieutenant in the Ottoman army. He is a childhood friend of Sheikh Effendi – to whom he often goes to for counsel. Following some trouble at the military college where he teaches – Ragip Bey is sent to Germany – from where, through his brother he joins the organisation plotting to overthrow the sultan’s regime. This part of the story moves the time frame forward a little to the Bulgarian anarchist bombings in Salonika where Hikmet Bey and his wife and children are currently living. Hikmet Bey has become dissatisfied in his marriage – his wife is impossible to please – and as time goes by, he too begins to take an interest in revolutionary politics. Ragip Bey’s story is particularly gripping – and one I assume will continue in the next book.
I’ll admit, I hadn’t quite expected to be as gripped by this novel as I was, and I flew through its nearly 400 pages pretty fast. I will definitely want to read the rest of the quartet – when and if it becomes available in English.
This really sounds like one to look out for. I don’t think I have ever read anything set in Turkey, from any era, so need to put that right. 😀
I couldn’t remember having read anything set in Turkey either.
I’d been a bit dauted by 400 pages, too, but this does sound very accessible. I see that it’s translated by Brendan Freely and I wondered if that was Maureen Freely’s son, or perhaps another relative. She translated Orham Pamuk’s novels and was a staunch defender of him in his troubles with the Turkish government.
I’m afraid I don’t know anything about Brendan Freely, though it seems possible that he’s related to Maureen Freely.
Ah, I thought the publisher might have mentioned it. I’ll see what I can find out.
He’s her brother, apparently.
Ah, it makes sense that they are related. Thanks for finding that out.
I kept meaning to review this, but somehow time just flew past… Like you, I don’t read much historical fiction nowadays, but found myself very much immersed in this. Found the tensions between East and West particularly fascinating.
Yes it is fascinating, I have to admit to having not known anything about the Bulgarian bombings of Salonika.
Sounds like a fascinating read and like you I don’t know that I’ve read anything from Turkey. As Marina says, the clash between Eastern and Western lifestyles is particularly intriguing, although I think I would have had the same struggle as you with the characterisation of the women – I might have wanted to read a Turkish woman author for some contrast! 😀
Oh, yes I think I might enjoy something written by a woman as contrast.
I hadn’t heard of this author, and like the sound of the novel as you describe it. I wrote a while back about a couple of novels by Greek-born Julietta Harvey’s novels, Familiar War and One Third of Paradise, which tell the story of the Greco-Turkish conflicts (and the eviction from Ionia of the Greek Orthodox community there) of the early 20C from the Greek perspective. That cover illustration is a little strange…
Those Julietta Harvey novels must be equally fascinating. Yes, I agree, the cover illustration is striking, though not sure what it’s depicting.
I really like the sound of this one.
I’m glad 😊
This sounds very interesting. I have one or two Turkish novels but haven’t read any so far. The aren’t historical fiction though.
It was the historical element that most attracted me.
This sounds like a great find Ali. The only Turkish writer I’ve read is Orhan Pamuk and I really enjoyed his work.
I’ve been aware of Orphan Pamuk for years though never read him, nor have any idea of what his work is like. Glad to hear you like his work so much.
I’ve only read a couple and it was quite a few years ago but he’s definitely worth a read.
I’m glad you liked this, Ali. This exceeded my expectations too.
It deed exceed my expectations, glad you enjoyed it too.
Like you, I’m not really much of a historical fiction reader these days. This does sound good though, a novel to sink into.
It is very compelling a good historical epic.
This sounds fascinating. I deal with Turkey a lot at work and I’d love to understand the country’s history rather more than I do.
I’m sure you would be fascinated by this, in that case.
[…] first novel in translation of 2019 was Like a Sword Wound by Ahmet Altan (1997) the first book in what promises to be a hugely compelling Ottoman quartet. A […]