![]() ![]() Both are written in a style that is, if not challenging, then definitely demanding of one’s full attention. ![]() ![]() Both are set in the past and involve a murder mystery. Superficially they have so many similarities: both are translations, one from Turkish and one from Italian. This book reminds me a lot of The Name of the Rose. The time is the past and the setting is, as always, that battleground between change and tradition. Centred around a workshop of miniaturists who are working on a somewhat controversial book for the Sultan, My Name is Red dips into some of the questions raised in the sixteenth century as the Ottoman Empire continued to coexist uneasily next to the Christian nations of Western Europe. From there, Orhan Pamuk goes on to hop perspectives every chapter, weaving a story of magic and mystery in sixteenth-century Istanbul. ![]() He hopes his murderer will be found and brought to justice (the more creative the better). Elegant Effendi describes the sensations of knowing he is dead, of his spirit decoupling from his body. My Name is Red opens with the voice of a dead man. The other, Sacré Bleu, was an irreverent “comedy d’art” by Christopher Moore. This is the second work of historical fiction I’ve read in a month that has a colour in its title and features art as a significant component of its story. ![]()
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