The Bastard of Istanbul by Elif Shafak
Describing the 3 categories of the Turkish societies:
“We are stuck. We are stuck between the East and the West. Between the past and the future......The Modernists tell us to move forward, but we have no faith in their idea of progress. The Traditionalists tell us to move backward, but we do not want to return to their ideal order either. Sandwiched between the two sides, we march two steps forward and one step backward, just like the Ottoman army band did! But we don’t even play an instrument! Where can we possibly escape to? We are not even a minority or an indigenous people under the protection of the UN Charter. Then we could have at least some basic legal rights."
Don't you see that the past is a vicious circle? It is a loop. It sucks us in and makes us run like a hamster on a wheel. Then we start to repeat ourselves, again and again.
"Allah" she sighed. "You are closer to me than my jugular vein. Help me out of this dilemma. Either grant me the bliss of the ignorant or give me the strength to bear the knowledge. Whichever you choose shall make me grateful, but please don't make me powerless and knowledgeable at the same time"
I wonder why miseries unit ppl while the good don't. How many furnerals you were keen not to miss and how many weddings you had no problem to miss. Solidarity had to be in good and evil. Not in one of them only
"Some among the Armenians in the diaspora would never want the turks to recognize the genocide. If they do, they'll pull the rug out from under our feet and take the strongest bond that unites us. Just like the Turks have been in the habit of denying their wrongdoing, the Arminians have been in the habit of savoring the cocoon of victimhood. Apparently, there are some old habits that need to be changed on both sides"
Family stories intermingle in such a way that what happened generations ago can have an impact on seemingly irrelevant developments of the present day. The past is anything but bygones. If Levent Kazanci hadn't grown up to be such a bitter abusive man, would his only son, Mustafa, have ended up being a different person? If generations ago in 1915, Shushan hadn't been left an orphan, would Asya today still be a bastard?
Life is coincidence, though sometimes it takes a djinni to fathom that.
From the Last Page in the Bastard of Istanbul
"There is such things as collective hysteriya....It is a scientifically known fact that collectivities are capable of manipulating their individual members' beliefs, thoughts, and even bodily reactions. You keep hearing a certain story over and over again, and the next thing you know you have internalized the narrative. From that moment on it ceases to be someone else's story. It is not even a story anymore, but reality, YOUR REALITY"
For One More Day by Mitch Albom
"what causes an echo?" she once quizzed me. the persistence of sound after the source has stopped. "when can you hear an echo?" when it's quiet and other sounds are absorbed. when it's quiet, i can hear my mother's echo still."
Sometimes people are physically gone but they keep persisting like an echo inside of us
Thanks for the Memories for Cecelia Ahern
There is something unnerving about being forced to look at yourself when you are unwilling to come in terms with something. Something raw and real that you can't run away from. You can lie to yourself, to your mind and in your mind all the time but when you look yourself in the face, well you know that you're lying. I'm not OK. That I did not hide from myself, and the truth of it stared me in the face.
Felt by Joyce when forced to see her reflection in the mirror by the hairdresser
My hairdresser hands me my ponytail.
"Souvenir"
"I don't want it." I refuse to take my hair in my hands. Every inch of that hair was from a moment that has now gone. Thoughts, wishes, hopes, desires, dreams that are no longer. I want a new start. Anew head of hair.
Describing the 3 categories of the Turkish societies:“We are stuck. We are stuck between the East and the West. Between the past and the future......The Modernists tell us to move forward, but we have no faith in their idea of progress. The Traditionalists tell us to move backward, but we do not want to return to their ideal order either. Sandwiched between the two sides, we march two steps forward and one step backward, just like the Ottoman army band did! But we don’t even play an instrument! Where can we possibly escape to? We are not even a minority or an indigenous people under the protection of the UN Charter. Then we could have at least some basic legal rights."
Don't you see that the past is a vicious circle? It is a loop. It sucks us in and makes us run like a hamster on a wheel. Then we start to repeat ourselves, again and again.
"Allah" she sighed. "You are closer to me than my jugular vein. Help me out of this dilemma. Either grant me the bliss of the ignorant or give me the strength to bear the knowledge. Whichever you choose shall make me grateful, but please don't make me powerless and knowledgeable at the same time"
I wonder why miseries unit ppl while the good don't. How many furnerals you were keen not to miss and how many weddings you had no problem to miss. Solidarity had to be in good and evil. Not in one of them only
"Some among the Armenians in the diaspora would never want the turks to recognize the genocide. If they do, they'll pull the rug out from under our feet and take the strongest bond that unites us. Just like the Turks have been in the habit of denying their wrongdoing, the Arminians have been in the habit of savoring the cocoon of victimhood. Apparently, there are some old habits that need to be changed on both sides"
Family stories intermingle in such a way that what happened generations ago can have an impact on seemingly irrelevant developments of the present day. The past is anything but bygones. If Levent Kazanci hadn't grown up to be such a bitter abusive man, would his only son, Mustafa, have ended up being a different person? If generations ago in 1915, Shushan hadn't been left an orphan, would Asya today still be a bastard?
Life is coincidence, though sometimes it takes a djinni to fathom that.
From the Last Page in the Bastard of Istanbul
"There is such things as collective hysteriya....It is a scientifically known fact that collectivities are capable of manipulating their individual members' beliefs, thoughts, and even bodily reactions. You keep hearing a certain story over and over again, and the next thing you know you have internalized the narrative. From that moment on it ceases to be someone else's story. It is not even a story anymore, but reality, YOUR REALITY"
For One More Day by Mitch Albom
"what causes an echo?" she once quizzed me. the persistence of sound after the source has stopped. "when can you hear an echo?" when it's quiet and other sounds are absorbed. when it's quiet, i can hear my mother's echo still." Sometimes people are physically gone but they keep persisting like an echo inside of us
Thanks for the Memories for Cecelia Ahern
There is something unnerving about being forced to look at yourself when you are unwilling to come in terms with something. Something raw and real that you can't run away from. You can lie to yourself, to your mind and in your mind all the time but when you look yourself in the face, well you know that you're lying. I'm not OK. That I did not hide from myself, and the truth of it stared me in the face.Felt by Joyce when forced to see her reflection in the mirror by the hairdresser
My hairdresser hands me my ponytail.
"Souvenir"
"I don't want it." I refuse to take my hair in my hands. Every inch of that hair was from a moment that has now gone. Thoughts, wishes, hopes, desires, dreams that are no longer. I want a new start. Anew head of hair.
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