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Istanbul: Memories and the City Paperback | Pages: 356 pages
Rating: 3.79 | 15500 Users | 1491 Reviews

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Title:Istanbul: Memories and the City
Author:Orhan Pamuk
Book Format:Paperback
Book Edition:Special Edition
Pages:Pages: 356 pages
Published:July 11th 2006 by Vintage International (first published 2003)
Categories:Nonfiction. Travel. Autobiography. Memoir. Biography. History. Cultural. Turkish. Asian Literature. Turkish Literature

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A shimmering evocation, by turns intimate and panoramic, of one of the world’s great cities, by its foremost writer. Orhan Pamuk was born in Istanbul and still lives in the family apartment building where his mother first held him in her arms. His portrait of his city is thus also a self-portrait, refracted by memory and the melancholy–or hüzün– that all Istanbullus share: the sadness that comes of living amid the ruins of a lost empire.With cinematic fluidity, Pamuk moves from his glamorous, unhappy parents to the gorgeous, decrepit mansions overlooking the Bosphorus; from the dawning of his self-consciousness to the writers and painters–both Turkish and foreign–who would shape his consciousness of his city. Like Joyce’s Dublin and Borges’ Buenos Aires, Pamuk’s Istanbul is a triumphant encounter of place and sensibility, beautifully written and immensely moving.

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Original Title: İstanbul: Hatıralar ve Şehir
ISBN: 1400033888 (ISBN13: 9781400033881)
Edition Language: English
Setting: Istanbul(Turkey)
Literary Awards: National Book Critics Circle Award Nominee for Autobiography/Memoir (2005), Samuel Johnson Prize for Non-Fiction Nominee (2005)

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Ratings: 3.79 From 15500 Users | 1491 Reviews

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It is just lucky that I happened to read Menocal's Ornament of the World just before this, as it perfectly prepared me for the psychological labyrinth that is this book. It introduced me to a beautiful, helpful image for Pamuk's creation- the "memory palaces" and "memory gardens". This is not an introduction to Istanbul, it is a memory palace worthy of the wildest child's fantasies that haunt this tapestry. Perhaps John Adams, the minimalist composer, put it best when discussing his piece On the

This is a duel memoir, that of the authors first twenty years of life and that of Istanbul during the same period. Pamuk has a poets voice. By that, I dont mean that he uses flowery or metaphoric language, but rather that he has the ability to conjure the abstract into palpable form: the atmosphere of a neighborhood, the bonds in a family, the mood of a people. I was surprised how much I enjoyed this book that lacked any plot or narrative tension. I must have been in just the right mood.

A book that makes me want to visit Istanbul just to walk around and see the sights that Pamuk describes and develops in this book. Reading his prose is an experience of painterly writing, where you cannot help but have a vivid image in your head of the surroundings and atmosphere conjured up with the words. But it is also a portrait of a sensitive young boy coming of age in a place and time where the borders between worlds are unpredictable. Not only are the Western and Eastern worlds in

This is the second book by Pamuk that I have read. I would like to point out that it seems that this book should be read either before or after The Museum of Innocence because I found myself making it notes of where the novel and this memoir collide.I've never been to Istanbul, but now I want to go. What Pamuk does is not only describe his family but a city as a conflict between East and West. While it is not something that my own western city feels, it is somewhat akin to the feeling that

English versionmy first Orhan Pamuk's and not my taste at all. It's a mixture of autobiography, history, literature and endless self pitty .

About a year ago, when I was brainstorming the topic for my masters thesis, I stumbled upon the idea of space and identity relationship. Since then, Ive always been interested in how space and place can affect the formation of ones self. Reading Istanbul has strengthened that particular idea. Not only describing the physical condition of Istanbul, Orhan Pamuk also wrote about his love-hate relationship with the city. Istanbul isnt just his home; it is the city that always inspires him. I

The sufi poets often compare their love for God to that of legendary lovers like Laila-Majnu and Heer-Ranjha for each other. This love which is just a painful longing (all those love stories are of star crossed lovers) for something worth annihilating oneself for - is called 'Huzun'. Despite its being melancholic, they still prefer having it - having an unrequited love is better than having none.Writers, the ones I like, often have little such love for God. Some of them seem to searching for