Up there with the best of Calvino, Eco, Borges and Marquez – Observer
Would that blurb attract you? Calvino I’ve always meant to read. If On A Winter’s Night A Traveller, reportedly a major influence on David Mitchell’s brilliant Cloud Atlas. Eco’s The Name of the Rose a masterpiece but I found Baudelino unfinishable. The very idea of Borges fills me with dread and Marquez is magnificent when not magically realising. All of which leaves me pretty ambivalent about that blurb … it wouldn’t have drawn me to reading Pamuk’s 1990 Independent Award for Foreign Fiction winner, The White Castle.
However, a few years ago, I read My Name is Red. What a difficult read that was! But a cracker nonetheless – despite the effusive bad language! It’s a rare novel that keeps me reading past that but My Name is Red is extraordinary. An exploration of the differences between East and West with art as the differentiator. However, it is a murder mystery, one with many narrators - including the corpse, a painted dog, a coin and all the suspects. As I said, a difficult read, one to be taken slowly, but one which is very rewarding. It won the Dublin Impac Award in 2003, the French Prix du meilleur livre étranger and the Italian version the Premio Grinzane Cavour in 2002. A milestone in contemporary literature, then, a position that will be recognised with the publication of an Everyman’s Library edition in 2010. And I’ve just discovered that there’s a BBC World Book Club episode here.
Of course, I’m dissembling. I don’t want to talk about The White Castle because I don’t understand it. Thank goodness it’s only 145 pages long (actually it felt much longer). It started well enough. A young Italian scholar is captured by pirates and sold as a slave in Istanbul. Eventually he is owned by a Turk who is eager to learn about the scientific and intellectual advances in the West. So far, so good. Pamuk has set up the relationship to explore the theme that fascinates him. The differences between East and West.
And there ends any sense – either in the novel or my review. The relationship deteriorates. Both slave and owner resent each other. They spend hours, days, months, years (?) concocting false histories of their lives. Outwardly they ressemble each other and at various points in the narrative they swap roles,until eventually the Turk becomes the Italian and escapes back to the West. Oh dear, was that a spoiler? Maybe it was, and maybe it wasn’t because first the Turk or even the Italian has to exist. And, if one doppelganger is a figment of the other’s imagination, then who knows what happening? Certainly not me.
Just after finishing this book, when I still cared, the purple beauty on the left dropped through the letter box and with it an interview with Orhan Pamuk …. and a few clues.
Q: What inspired you to write The White Castle? It’s the first book where you employ a theme that recurs thoroughout the rest of your novels – impersonation. Why do you think this idea of becoming somebody else crops up so often in your fiction?
A: It’s a very personal thing. I have a very competitive brother who is only eighteen months older than me. In a way, he was my father, my Freudian father, so to speak. It was he who became my alter ego, the representation of authority. On the other hand we had a competitive and brotherly comradeship. A very complicated relationship. ..In The White Castle the almost sadomasochistic relationship between the two main characters is based on my relationship with my brother. …
On the other hand, this theme of impersonation is reflected in the fragility Turkey feels when faced with Western culture. After writing The White Castle I realised that this jealousy – the anxiety about being influence by someone else – resembles Turkey’s position when it looks west. You know, aspiring to become Westernised and then being accused of not being authentic enough. Trying to grab the spirit of Europe and then feeling guilty about the imitative drive. The ups and downs of ths mood are reminiscent of the relationship between competitive brothers.
I’m ever so pleased the author knew what he was writing about. I only wish he could have done so in a way that this reader understood. My advice to you – ignore The White Castle. Pick up My Name is Red instead. But give yourself lots of time to read it. It took me a good 3 weeks.
The White Castle
My Name Is Red ![]()
The Paris Review Interview of Orhan Pamuk ![]()

































Thank goodness, someone else who doesn’t understand it. I am really annoyed with the last chapter and a half – it seemed to be leading to something before that, but just rambled into “I now stop making sense. Completely. In case you were wondering.” Ugh.
I read reviews of Pamuk’s fiction, like this one, and it scares me off completely. But, I read his nonfiction memoir of Istanbul and himself, and I loved it. Really loved it. I’m sure I’ll eventually try a fiction offering. Sounds like My Name is Red is where I should begin.
Thanks for taking one for the team on White Castle, and saving the rest of us.
Here’s a review from someone who understands more than I -
http://literaryfalcon.wordpress.com/2009/10/18/the-white-castle-pamuks-start-as-a-post-modern-novelist/
Oh dear I have The White Castle on my TBR and now I am feeling quite afraid of it in all honesty. It just sounds confusing and a bit long winded (which at only 145 pages isnt inspiring me) one to maybe leave a while then.
Simon, I think I’m advising you to leave it forever …..
I haven’t read either book, but I really enjoyed another of Pamuk’s masterpieces: “Snow”. That is also a difficult book with lots of politics, but it’s worth the effort. Being Italian I am somehow fascinated by the story in “The White Castle”, but this review scares me off a little.
Please, do read “If On a Winter’s Night a Traveller”, it’s a wonderful book. Why does the idea of Borges fills you with dread?
* fill you with dread?
“Snow” is the only Orhan Pamuk novel I’ve read, and that just a couple of months ago. I liked it very much. It was complex but it didn’t have the difficulties that you mention with the other two. A couple of weeks ago I was in a bookstore and opened to the first page of “The Museum of Innocence,” Pamuk’s latest. The novel starts with an intimate love scene, which I have to tell you he describes as sweetly as he does those in “Snow,” but it gave me pause. Love scenes always make me feel squirmy–such personal moments! private!–and I was afraid there was a whole book full of them.
Do read “If On a Winter’s Night a Traveller.” I haven’t read it since it first came out, but if it hadn’t disappeared into one of my children’s libraries I probably would have read it one or two more times. It’s a lot of fun.
Blast, I hit the wrong key and deleted my comment just before posting it.
Anyway, oddly enough I was talking about The White Castle over at Kevin from Canada’s blog earlier this evening, in the context of another Pamuk review he just put up.
I didn’t like it at all, I felt I understood it (and I suspect you did too, as much as there’s anything there to understand, I think it’s just that there’s not as much there as one feels there ought to be), I just didn’t rate it. I thought it self-indulgent and ultimately tedious. Terrible flaws in such a short book.
So, I’m delighted to hear you liked My Name is Red, because while I gave away my copy of The White Castle I still have that but had been put off reading it. Now I’m reassured that disliking one need not imply a dislike of the other, and that’s cheering stuff.
As a small point, I found the link to the other review interesting, but The White Castle isn’t set in medieval times, it’s set in the late Renaissance which isn’t the same thing at all.
Good post Lizzy. I am glad you are frank with what you don’t understand. Otherwise people just go on praising post-modernist texts without understanding them.
I have written a new post on Postmodernism. Please take a look.
Thanks for the link to your great review and the heads up about its difficulties. I enjoyed all the comments too. I’m a careful reader and have the time to read 145 pages, even if difficult, so I will anyway-you’ve peaked my curiosity. Funny enough, I could not make heads or tails of Calvino’s Traveller and I tried twice- though only a few pages. Everyone I’ve heard mention it loved it. Glad you liked My Name is Red as I recently acquire a copy through Bookmooch and have something to look forward to as a reward for slogging through The White Castle.
I’ll check out Literary Falcon’s review too. Thanks again.
Hi Lizzy,
I have just finished reading and reviewing (badly) Pamuk’s “Snow”. I was little impressed, frankly. I believe it was badly written and poorly translated (by his brother’s girlfriend); but most of all I couldn’t get over how he sees the people of Turkey in such childish ( and freudian) terms. They are positively puerile, as is, I think, his understanding of them.
I have a German edition of “The Black Book” (Das Schwarze Buch), but I may never get to it, since 500 pages of poor literature in a foreign language is a bridge too far for me at my age. I tried and tried to like Snow, but finally I think it is PoMo nonsense at its worst. If all attempts at (political, religious, or moral) conviction are vain (Pamuk’s basic conviction), then why write a book? The act refutes the theory. So now, if understanding is not impossible, why accuse your characters of being, one and all, such childish, opportunistic dolts? Aren’t there more important matters to discuss than how ‘conveniently’ people can change their minds and allegiances to absolutes?
I cannot recommend it and I seriously wonder whether the others you’ve reviewed are going to change my opinion. Does anything about this guy recommend itself –apart from the faux Nobel he got for being accused of defaming “turkishness”? (He was guilty of the charge, after all!)
Doesn’t anyone believe in minding their own business anymore?
Thanks for that, Kevin. You’ve persuaded me that “Snow” belong in the to-be-culled pile. I’ve heard differing stories about “The Black Book” – apparently there was much wrong with the 1st English translation. I’ve heard good things about the new translation by Maureen Freely. I’ll keep hold of that one for now.