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Istanbul memories and the city6/21/2023 ![]() I’m a sucker for life writing and memoir though, and already in its first pages this book raised some interesting questions about identity and memory (Pamuk is a psychoanalyst’s delight!), as well as about the history and status of the city of Istanbul. I wasn’t particularly expecting to enjoy the book, given I’d found My Name is Red pretty tedious (sorry!). My daughter’s RDA riding centre raises extra money by selling off donated books for 50p each, and it’s possible I picked it up there at some point. It’s clearly been bought secondhand, as it’s evidently been read before, and not by me. I have no idea where this book came from. On my shelves I found another of his books, Istanbul: Memories of a City, first published in 2003, and published in English in 2005 by Faber & Faber. However, I knew I couldn’t dedicate a month of reading to Turkish writers and not read any Pamuk. I know it has been raved over, and in my defence I gave it longer than most books that I’m not enjoying. ![]() ![]() I set out intending to read the massive My Name is Red by Nobel Prize for literature winner Orhan Pamuk, but gave up on it 145 pages in. ![]()
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