After an absence of tered Istanbul like a sleepo    to die, and in my case, it    dreo ty where I’d been born and raised.

        returned, I t ter, I er love. Love, ant and fotten ty. It anbul, t I fell h my young cousin.

        Four years after I first left Istanbul, eppes, snoains and melancies of Persia, carryiers and colleg taxes, I admitted to myself t I ting t beried desperately to remember o realize t despite love, a face long not seen finally fades. During t in t, traveling or ary in t t of my beloved. Later, in t akenly called to mind in tely different tenance. In turo my city at ty-six, I    my beloved’s face had long since escaped me.

        Many of my friends aives ed tery overlooking tcever reason, gazing at to cry. as I g fely, still only at ter all t because I’d e to t snoranced by t in t I didn’t notice taring at me from a dark er of tery.

        My tears subsided. I s tail in friends tery. Sometime later, I settled into our neiging one of tive on my fat seems I remi t and so so    the house and cook for me.

        I set out on long and satisfyis as if I’d settled not in Istanbul, but temporarily in one of ties at treets    seemed to me. Iain areas, on roads squeezed beto rub up against o avoid being    by laden pack seemed to me. I sae carriage, a citadel dra n,” I saoget ed over tche falling snow.

        old Istanbul used to be a poorer, smaller and y, I mig , but t’s old me. t’d al trees, ot t my beloved’s moternal aunt,    e, and er o learn t fater ims of certain misfortunes, from strangers ansuations are perfectly fort t aroyed your dreams. I    describe all of to you no alloo say t as I recalled    and sunny summer days in t old garden, I also noticed icicles ttle finger ree in a place    death.

        I’d already learned about some of ter my Enis to me in tabriz. In t letter, ed me back to Istanbul, explaining t    book for Our Sultan and t ed my    for a period toman pasanbulites.    I did to use ts anbul to locate miniaturists and calligraprated by ttoman soldiers, but    yet left for Kazvin or anoty, and it ers—plaining of poverty and —rate and bind ts I o Istanbul. If it    for trating and fine books t my Enisilled in me during my youts.

        At t end of treet, ime my Eniser by trade, in raigcer and soap brus    I’m not sure    deligo see t till traced t    er.

        Some of treets I’d frequented in my yout ruins ed and s frig , and I ance, by    expensive Veian stained glass, and by lavisory residences h bay windows suspended above high walls.

        As in many oties, money no longer anbul. At time I returned from t, bakeries t once sold large oed te moto spend t to leave before t on us instead of t I kne    Flemisian merc ss of terfeit . At t,    ed from t.    tually floated in t fell from table-sellers pier, ted, besieging Our Sultan’s palace as if it ress.

        A cleric by t, o be desded from lorious Prop Muy, inflation, crime and t.

        totributed tastrop anbul in t ten years—including trict fires, t claimed tens of t a cost of tless lives, as toman fortresses in t to s i—to our rayed from t, to disregard for

        trictures of to toleraoo to truments in dervish houses.

        tely informed me about t terfeit s—ts, tamped toman s ent—t flooded ts and bazaars, just like treets, oe degradation from    to escape. I old t sdrels and rebels izing until da destitute men of dubious cer, opium-addicted madmen and follolao be on Allas in derviso music, pierg ty, before brutally fug eachey could find.

        I didn’t k pelled me to follo pickle seller, and seized upon t of tion. I do, y and    frequently on foot, your body, not to mention your soul, gets to ks so er a number of years t in a fit of melancirred by a ligoe promontories.

        to leave t and ended up c fell into t beside to accumulate on tops fag nortions of to terly breeze.

        An approaced me ter of vas. ts sails matcrees, tops, tacyards mingled in my ically t, er, I    be able to live anyy. I ion t my beloved’s fae.

        I began to o ter tomac a liver sy

        sened carefully to tc eace as if . taking ions, I found myself turning do—er treets ed the coffeehouse.

        I oryteller, tabriz and in Persian cities and ain-caller,” ove. ure, tily but ain elegance. o ting, from time to time, at the drawing.

        I AM A DOG    As you    doubtless tell, dear friends, my es are so long and poi into my mout it pleases me. Notig teetco say, “My God, t’s no dog at all, it’s a wild boar!”

        I bit    my es sank rigty fleso tisfying as sinkio    of instinctual unity presents itself, t is, ten, stupidly and uion, my    even meaning to, I emit a hair-raising growl.

        I’m a dog, and because you ional beasts telling yourselves, “Dogs don’t talk.” o believe a story in    possibly know.

        Dogs do speak, but only to to listen.

        Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a fara one of t mosques in a capital city; all rig’s call it t’d be appropriate to ’s refer to     whing more:

        ty of ellegue, God bless it. Eaced ion, so moved to tears t some il ted or dried up and    get me    of preac rary,    a blink as if to cise tion. In all probability, tongue laser all, no sir, o be o err—and before t    intimidating to tears. ood t to be made in ture,    over top and o say the following:

        “tary defeat lies in our fetting time of lorious Prop and falling so

        false’s birtiets like o ed melodically, like a soily and pompously to so an Arab’s?

        as ting to prayer coyly, ating a oday, people plead befravesites, begging for amends. tervention of t tombs of saints and one.

        tie votive pieces of cloturn for ato. ere tarians ellectual mentor of tarians, became a sinner by s the infidel Pharaoh had died a believer.

        tis, to musical apa or justify dang oget?“ are all kaffirs. Dervis to be destroyed, tions excavated to a depted eart into t ritual prayers be performed there again.”

        I ell t t aking matters even furttle flying from ed believers! te sin! lorious Prop did not partake of coffee because    dulled tellect, caused ulcers, erility; ood t coffee    ts sit ko-knee, involving ts of vulgar be, even before t to be banned. Do to drink coffee? Men frequent tted rol of tal faculties to t t tually listen to and believe    t is true mongrels.”

        ito respond to t ent by teemed cleric. Of course, it is on kno ter s our revered Prop Mu off a piece of    lay sleeping rat. By pointing out tion so t, o us dogs, and due to our eternal feud ,    of men reizes as an ingrate, people ried to

        intimate t t    ual ablutions, and t of t uries and ings in tyards from broomstick-akers.

        Alloo remind you of “t beautiful of ters. I’m reminding you not because I suspect t because I    to refreser rets tory of tired of living among pagans and take refuge in a cave ly t er one of ters ty of men and tries to spend an outdated silver . All of tuo learn ly describes man’s attac to Allaransitory nature of time and t’s not my place, alloo remind you of teention of a dog resting at to appear in take pride in ter, and t I i to ty mongrels, to their senses.

        So t’s tual reason for ty to dogs are impure, and ing and purifying your op to bottom if a dog o enter?    tous? If your caftan brus our damp fur, an seven times like a frenzied insmit a pot licked by a dog must be tinned. Or pers…    tary life of ty, s’s    before t of Islam, t    to burden you o ory and pos moral—to be , my anger arises out of teemed cleric’s attacks upon our coffeehouses.

        t of Erzurum    t kind of dog do you think you are?

        You’re attag ter is a picture-oryteller ales at a coffee to protect !” God forbid, I’m not denigrating anyone. But I’m a great admirer of our coffee t my portrait , but I dret t I ’t sit doer is p coffee for me from a small coffeepot. A picture ’t drink coffee, you say?

        Please! See for yourselves, this dog is happily lapping away.

        A    t, it’s s. o ell you: Besides bolts of Ctery adorned    did tian Doge send to Nur Sultan, teemed dauged Sultan? A soft and cuddly Veian s of silk and sable. I    tcually fucked ’s    even engage in t     Frankisfits like t any over t and ian    sure—anyway, sed dead away.

        Is tered like t miserable of slaves and dragged around in isolation. ts into to t permitted to    alone sniff and frolic toget despicable state, in c gaze forlornly at eace . Dogs s of Istanbul freely in packs and uen people if necessary,    t e ’s not t I    t t t be reets of Istanbul in excablis of cies t perform sud both

        to treat us as enemies and make infidels of us, let me remind t being ao dogs and being an infidel are one and t t too distant executions of tioner friends invite us to take a bite, as times do to set a deterring example.

        Before I finis me say ter    man.

        out at nigo te: I’d begin to bark, and    t of our victim urn for my    up ty men t o me. I don’t like ra. God ioner of t cleri Erzurum ake to at so I    upset my stomac sdrel’s raw flesh.

        I ILL BE CALLED A MURDERER    Nay, I    ake anyone’s life, even if I’d been told so moments before I murdered t fool; and t times recedes from me like a fn galleon disappearing on t itted any crime at all. Four days o do a, ent, accepted my situation.

        I o resolve ted and a o do a I ky. I couldn’t let tions of one foolire society of miniaturists.

        akes some getting used to. I ’t stand being at    to treet. I ’t stand my street, so I o anotare at people’s faces, I realize t many of t because t yet unity to snuff out a life. It’s o believe t most men are more moral or better t of some minor t of fate. At most, t stupider expressions because t yet killed, and like all fools, to entions. After I took care of t pati, reets of Istanbul for four days    everyone    across .

        tonigeaming coffee at ted is of t, gazing at tg my plig of t everyted. tion t one of t toryteller as I uition ed near mine or by tlessly rapped    sure    I suddenly turned and looked ly in tart and orted. As tance of ook    his place.”

        Raising an eyebroed me. No orusted anyone, everyone expected to be done in at any moment by t to him.

        It ed on street ers and at t, I could find my reets only by groping    times, t of an oil lamp still burning some from beters, refleg on t mostly, I could see notening for tcicks on stones, for t times treets of ty seemed to be lit up by a rees, I t I spotted one of ts t anbul suchousands of years.

        From s or sn or    in ts of ried tle eac t.

        For a couple of nigo to relive t before being a murderer, to raise my spirits and to listen to toryteller. Most of my miniaturist friends, t my entire life, came . Since I’d sile lout rations since c    to see any of them.

        Muc t do    gossiping, and about tmospy in tcures for toryteller so t accuse me of ceit, but t failed to put ao their envy.

        tified in being jealous. Not one of ting and embellising subjects, draling is, sultans, s one could approacery in imbuing illustrations ry of t even in gilding. I’m ning, but explaining to you so you migand me. Over time, jealousy bees a as indispensable as paint in ter artist.

        During my lessness, I e face-to-face occasionally    pure and i religious trymen, and a straion suddeers my hink

        about t t I’m a murderer, t on my face.

        to t t as I forced myself, , to baniss of    us    t of copulation out of my ts, no t I’ve itted.

        You realize, in fact, t I’m explaining all te to my predit. But if I o divulge eveail related to tself, you’d figure it all out and tion and relegate me to tatus of an ordinary, fessed criminal o dail, alloo keep some clues to myself: try to discover ive people like yourselves migprints to cat, brings us to tyle,” : Does a miniaturist, ougurist, yle? A use of color, a voice all his own?

        Let’s sider a piece by Bier of masters, patron saint of all miniaturists. I erpiey situation because it’s a depi of murder, among ty-year-old book of t sc emerged from ttle of succession and rets tory of e of o Nizami’s version, not Firdusi’s:

        ter a    of trials and tribulations;    give t only    also es, “enco t, entering tabs    ill dawn and    iful Shirin, who remains sleeping peacefully beside him.

        ture by t master Biale itself, addresses a grave fear I’ve carried    to realize tranger making faint sounds as

        t truder ail, t ation, t scream emanating from your clamped t and t quilt upon eps as ails serve ting ty of ting, t e are ting’s beauty and of to your deat of your being totally alone ie t strikes you.

        “ter said ty years ago as rembling ed not by t by tion itself. “t ture.”

        Bi t    ure anyo ter, t and a feeling of srue art and genuine virtuosity tist    paint an inparable masterpiece    leaving even a trace of ity.

        Fearing for my life, I murdered my unfortunate victim in an ordinary and crude manner. As I returo t after nigo ascertain    migray me, questions of style increasingly arose in my    ed as style ion or fla revealed ty hand.

        I could’ve located t t, razed by fire, y-five years. No migerpreted as signature, proving t Allayle and signature. If ually itted an unpardonable sin by illustrating t book—as t    ained four days ago—even if urists.

        t nig Effendi and I came    yet begun to fall. e could ance.

        “Pray, for e one had asked.

        “ do you plan to s    te hour?”

        “Just a, Enis you are happily rewarded.”

        “Am I to uand t you admit you kion.

        “I admit it,” I lied obligingly.

        “You aoure you’ve made is in fact a desecration, don’t you?” ly. “It’s     man . Yoing to burn in ts of hell. Your suffering and pain will never diminish—and you’ve made me an aplice.”

        As I listety t, , people rue about miserable creatures ot Eniso fly due to to pay—and because Master Osman, tor, despised    occurred to me t per, ent used ts to buttress ions. to w degree was ?

        I    t pitted us against eace o be provokio cover up a mistake, as during our apprentice years, ing by Master Osman. Back ty ving. As an apprentice,    back t yet dimmed from t finally I ; o fess everyto everyone.

        “Do listen to me,” I said ion. “e make illuminations, create border designs, drao pages, er page ones of gold, est of paintings,    is our calling.

        tings from us,    us te a selope or a sultan icular frame, demanding a certain style of bird, a certain type of figure, take ticular se from tory, fet about sucever it is t. ”Listen,“ Eniso me, ”    artists of old, I sketc

        e to knoly om my    of Samarkand paper.“ I took td so Elegant.    terest and, leaning close to to study te    moonligers of S,” I said, “claimed t a miniaturist cy years to be able to truly depict t Alla t picture of a rue miniaturist    fifty-year period, but in the horse.”

        t expression on old me t ely absorbed in my horses.

        “try to make t mysterious, t unattainable    as ters did. to it. It’s unjust of to ration.”

        “I’m not sure t’s correct,” oo, ies and our o Alla was    we miginguish Good from Evil.”

        It e response.

        “Alla you and I,    being a Enis you a bes tan?”

        Silence.

        I wondered wing    of a sincere fear of Allah.

        e stopped at t sig ied    it oo late for t. I prayed to God to give me one more sign t tanding before me    only a dim-ted    unredeemable disgrace.

        “t off teps and dig,” I said.

        “t will you do?”

        “I’ll explain it all to Enisures.    ot ion,

        nots    ain you    inform on us.”

        “ is tained in?”

        “ty-five Veian gold pieces inside an old ceramic pickle jar.”

        tian ducats made good sense, but    God ice, ed excitedly ting off teps in tion I indicated.

        t t moment. First of all, tian s or anyt buried t e up roy us. I suddenly felt like embrag times did    t o dig. it templation, if you could call it t, lasted only a ime.

        Panig, I grabbed a sto lay beside till on tep, I caugo ruck rengtruck ly and brutally t I arily startled, as if t his pain.

        Instead of anguis I’d done, I ed to finishe job quickly.

        on ther.

        Long after I’d dropped o templated    in t befit turist.

        I AM YOUR BELOVED UNCLE    I am Black’s maternal uncle, e, but ote.”

        time    only Black, but everyone began referring to me t y years ago, after o treet snut and lirees beyond trict, Black began to make frequent visits to our     Pasurn in tumn to discover t Blad aken refuge in our home.

        Black’s mot in peace, er of my dearly departed imes on er evenings I’d e o find my    te little religious scaugempered, angry and    time;    doh apprehension.

        It pleases me to see ermined, mature and respectful o ed me    as a gift, and e and demure    of sitting before me oget only annou o be, but it reminds me t I am io be.

        ly nervous yet beiures om of plag aring deeply and ily into my eyes as if to say, “I uand, I’m listening to you ell , or tle rce appropriate. No I’ve reac true respect arises not from t, but from discrete rules and deference.

        During t ly to our ense because sicipated a future for ood t books pleased    us togeto put it, ice.” I explaio

        urists in Sed a neyle by raising to top of t cate in t, crazed    master Biter able to vey Mejnun’s loneliness by portrayiing to ignite logs by bloents. I remarked     most of trators     a miniaturist o read text rating ivated by nothan greed.

        I’m deligo see t Black ial virtue:

        to avoid disappoi in art, one mustn’t treat it as a career. Despite    artistise and talent a man mig to seek money and poion for s and efforts.

        Black reted    one by one all of ter illustrators and calligrapabriz by making books for pasanbulites and patrons in tists, I learned, y of t. Not only in tabriz, but in Masurists ures—curiosities t ravelers—even obse dra ted manuscript Sed to Our Sultan during tabriz peace treaty aken apart so its pages could be used for another book.

        Supposedly, tan, Akbar,    t gifted illustrators of tabriz and Kazvin quit o his palace.

        As old me all of tly interjected otories as aining story of a Me erupted among t prince sent to tage to peace fell feverisell from t fell across    to    to be resolved.

        Naturally, Black, like every young man o say about us, or iful daug sider it

        dangerous enougo    my attention back t everyone—including many    belle of belles. Black’s affli ed youto our ed and y actually to see S bury    made take of revealing reme passion to my daughter.

        As a result, o quit our ely.

        I assumed t Blaoanbul, my daug t of    t still bereft of any on sense, o return again. No one    only because su Istanbul, but because during t passed bet ory long ago, judging by to my eyes. Even at t, as s a tands open on tand, I kno my daugurned o wo sons.

        I’ve ed to mention t in Black’s absence.

        Most likely, Black, like any young felloige, sidered it quite discourteous to broac. Still, old aircase t t moving upstairs o ease ts.    oddly embarrassed, but let me tell you: Men iny military fiefs, o build tory houses.

        e    I used as ting    Black    once disclosed to ter t inspired tter I’d sent to tabriz, inviting o Istanbul.

        “Just as you did in cert urists of tabriz, I, too, rated manuscript,” I said. “My t is, in fact, an, tion of t, Our Sultan    to me under cover of the

        reasurer. And I o an uanding    talented and aplisists of Our Sultan’s atelier. I o illustrate a dog, anotree, a t aed to represent Our Sultaire    as in tings of tian masters. But uians, my    merely depict material objects, but naturally tan rules. If I ended up including ture of a gold , it o belittle money; I included Deatan because    kno. I ed tality of a tree, ty of a dog to represent an and ed my cadre of illustrators, niamed ”Stork,“ ”Olive,“ ”Elegant‘ and “Butterfly,” to select subjects of t, most forbidding er evenings, one of my Sultan’s illustrators ly visit to s he book.

        “ kind of pictures ing t    really ans present. Not because I’m    from you, and not because I    eventually tell you. It’s as t quite knoures mean. I do,    kind of paintings t to be.”

        Four monter I sent my letter, I ed o    Black uro Istanbul, and, in turn, I invited o our    my story bore a promise of bot ogether.

        “Every picture serves to tell a story,” I said. “turist, in order to beautify t s t vital ses: t time lovers lay eyes on eacem cutting off ter; Rüstem’s grief ranger e and ure among lions, tigers, stags and jackals; to t before a battle to divis oute from tnesses a great fal tear apart igued from reading tales, rest upon tures. If text t our intelled imaginatio pains to jure, tration es at oo our aid. tory’s blossoming in color. But painting    its apanying story is an impossibility.

        “Or so I used to tfully. “But te possible. traveled once again to Venice as tan’s ambassador. I observed at lengtraits t tian masters    knoo ures belonged, and I struggled to extract tory from ting hanging on a palazzo wall and was dumbfounded.

        “More t    one of us. As I stared at    as if I resembled     resemble me at all.    seemed to lack cray marvelous c look anyture, for some reason, my    fluttered as if it rait.

        “I learned from tialeman    trait    in rait: In tic-looking forest. Resting on table before time, Evil, Life, a calligrapaining gold s, bric-a-brac, odds and ends, inscrutable yet distinguis ures, sure of tunningly beautiful daugood beside her.

        “ ive t tation    to embellise? As I regarded t tale ure itself. ting    tension of a story at all, it s o.

        “I never fot ting t be turo taying as a guest and poure tire nigoo, ed to be portrayed in t, no, t    appropriate, it an o be trayed! Our Sultan ougo be rendered along    represented and stituted tled on tion t a manuscript could be illustrated acc to this idea.

        “tian virtuoso ure in suc you ely kno    man, if told you to pick    of a croo select t man    portrait.

        tian masters ing techey

        could distinguis relying on fit or medals, just by tinctive sraiture.“ “If your face ed in tet you, and if you    ually nearby. ter your deato-fading before them.”

        e remained silent for a long time. A c tside filtered t of treet; tters h dipped in beeswax.

        “turist,” I said. “ like tists for tan’s secret book, and ogetill da unfortunate Elegant Effendi,     o arrive at     poor master gilder of mine.”

        I AM ORhey indeed killed him?”

        tall, skinny and a little frigo talking in t    sig are you doing here?”

        me in suc I climbed onto    ans me back do away.

        “Kiss Black’s hand,” he said.

        I kissed touy fore had no smell.

        “e charming,” Black said and kissed me on my cheek. “One day he’ll be a brave young man.”

        “t, who’s seven.

        t one’s quite a stubborn little child.”

        “I    back to treet in Aksaray,” said Black. “It    it    all.”

        “Alas! Everytly o me. “her?”

        “or, ter binder.”

        “So, w are you doing here?”

        “ter said, ”Fine o me.“ “You made your o o Black: “ter tices, learning t of binding.”

        “Do you like to make illustrations like yrandfather?” asked Black.

        I gave him no answer.

        “All righer. “Leave us be, now.”

        t from t    I didn’t    to leave. Smelling t and glue, I stood still for a moment. I could also smell coffee.

        “Yet does illustrating in a ne pilder despite t t yle. I’m not eveain    rating a orative story in verse, a Book of Festivities, for Our Sultan by order of tor Master Osman. Eacurists    er Osman,    ts    you to go t t is, turists,     or Master Osman gave tterfly,“ ”Olive,“ ”Stork‘…You’re also to go and observe tead of airs, I spun around. t room -in closet    in.

        I my moto see me.

        Sood .

        “here have you been?” she asked.

        But s ts door aircase—if, of course, his bedroom door were open.

        “I    are you doing in here?”

        “Didn’t I tell you t yrandfat and t you    to bot not very loud, because s    t to    er voice.

        “ted. Not s tened.”

        “In w manner was ed?”

        I dropped to tated t: “I’m a very serious man noening to my grandfat eyebroening to ted. I’m nodding my ime no guest.”

        “Go doairs,” my mot once.”

        S doing on a small piece of paper on ting board saken up.

        “Mot are you ing?”

        “Be quio I tell you to go doairs and call for hayriye?”

        I    doo tc,    for t.

        “traitor,” my brot    off a me er. I did all the bindings myself. My fingers are bruised purple.”

        “s to see you.”

        “o give you sug,” my brotreachery.”

        , my brotood and came after me teningly, even befet aime.    t and began ting it.

        “Stop, S, don’t, you’re ing me.”

        “Are you ever going to sies again and leave?”

        “No, I    ever leave.”

        “So it.”

        “I swear.”

        “She Koran.”

        “…on the Koran.”

        let go of my arm. o tray t able for eating and forced me to my knees. rong enougo eat io t my arm.

        “Quit t your brotyrant,” said side. “Leave him be.”

        “Mind your oill ting my arm. “o?”

        “to buy lemons,” hayriye said.

        “You’re a liar,” my brothe cupboard is full of lemons.”

        As o free myself. I kicked s base, but he poune,

        smotray fell over.

        “You t     airs    being seen by Black?

        Sed us. “You t tio disgrace me, don’t you?”

        “Oro ter binder,” S said. “ me to do all the work.”

        “her said, slapping him.

        S ly. My brot cry. “I    my father,” he said.

        “urns o take up Unove back h Uncle hasan.”

        “S up!” said my mot s by tcairs to t faced tyard. I folloh of you.”

        “But I    done anytered any    pitc ligters fag te tree in tyard—I was scared.

        “Open ther,” I said. “I’m cold.”

        “Quit w said. “S soon enough.”

        Moto beil tor leaves?”

        s t in tcove until Black takes    to go upstairs, do you uand?”

        “e’ll get bored in t said. “here has hayriye gone?”

        “Quit butting into everyone’s affairs,” my mother said.

        e        randfat Black’s. e    ing us to smile as aking teps for faced us off tairside t.

        “Drrsss,” so table.

        Surned around and guided us into co sit do even sider standing until uest leaves. And don’t fighink you’re spoiled.”

        “Moto c to say somether’s gilder in.”
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