orhan pamuk

When it's about Turkey, some things don't change. Ever. They don't change in their own ways. They keep coming back, in their own monstrous ways.
In this one world, it sometimes seems a race is on between the newly empowered and the recently dispossessed. The truth is not only that both realities exist simultaneously, but that one is a condition of the other.
"How could you, prime minister, have become so cruel, so coldhearted?" said Mahsun Kırmızıgül recently, unable to hold back his feelings on the ongoing deadly clashes in the Southeast of Turkey.
At its core, Kaan Müjdeci's film Sivas is a story about a boy (Aslan), the girl he adores (Ayse), his adversary for her love (Osman) and a magical animal. Simple enough, if it was a true fairy tale.
His new novel explores the personal experience of migration from the tradition-bound countryside to an ever-changing modern Istanbul.
"A country at peace has suddenly found itself at war both against the Islamic State and the Kurds."
ANKARA -- "A Strangeness in My Mind" is about what it means to be a poor, ordinary Turk, buffeted by the winds of modern politics and traditional mores. It is detailed, intimate, but it is also universal, dealing with emotions like shame, ambition, love and grief, and what it feels like to belong. This is not an intentionally political novel, but if there is a political message, this is it: Turkey needs to recognize its universals, not its differences. Saturday's bombing in Ankara showed us that, with devastating effect.
During the spellbinding evening, Pamuk mentioned that he does not really believe in utopias in general, and said that humanity has created "a hundred tons of memory," but only one hundred grams of utopia.
There is a wonderful quote at the center of the mission statement for this year's festival, which roughly translates to "only
For many people around the globe books are alive, they are collected, cherished and contemplated periodically with love. They are milestones that punctuate one's emotional and social life.