Maybe you’ve uood by no for men like myself, t is, melanc excuses for maintainiernal loneliness, life offers    joy nreat sadness. I’m not saying    relate to otrary,     fat our souls sink into at sucimes. t turmoil dims our intellects and dampens our s, usurping true joy and sadness we ougo experience.

        I ure of dolence, embraced my ears so a large cus me e, and I didn’t knoo do. ory. In one fell sled me, and beaster of ty of my tears? But believe me, it    like t. I truly ed to grieve, but couldn’t: Eniso me t sie’s final

        ablution opped babbling, t my Eniserious circumstances spread among tanding in tyard of t    my inability to cry to be interpreted ively; I don’t o tell you oneed” is.

        You k “o prevent someone like me from being banis cry on tried to aives oo summon a doears; I t about being ter of take cuation, but just t t of panic. as it ed to save myself from t .

        It o tunned.

        As I exited tyard, I found a mud-covered silver    on to go to t I side in trees and people. I t I’d befriend t sen ty before fag tioner, attempt a liged versation    t, ties of life, t eness of a cloud in t alas ed me, proving a ratigig ely stretco t    t after marrying Ser all t made my and on end. It ice of dying at torturers    h her.

        e didn’t oerrifying spires of te, beyond urers and tioners sao t tory s ing itself in tnut eaming nostrils turned but didn’t look at us: t s oh, much as we were.

        Be determine from to tell    to arouse fear before torture; inado, I t about tell to save my o be raising quite a ruckus.

        t certainly t attribute my mog and mirtoo t of a man on torture. But    I mentioned I sider myself one of God’s luckier servants? And if tu alig ter years of deprivatio proof enougside tyard gate must be some indication.

        Aing my torture, I ed by te fait ect me; I

        palmed it, rubbed it aedly kissed token of good fortu Alla me. But at ime t me into t room orturers, I kneiless voice ely correct: t    e from God, but    I’d s torturers, I o take refuge.

        I didn’t even notice t tears began to fall from my eyes. I ed to beg, but as in a dream, no sound issued from my moutical assassination and torture ( life could be extinguisantaneously, but I’d never experie to strip me from t as tripped off my garments.

        took off my vest and s. One of tioners sat on me, driving o my siced elegance of a urning t its front. Nay, it    a cage, but rat gradually squeezed my head.

        I screamed at top of my lungs. I begged, but incoly. I cried, mostly because my nerves .

        topped momentarily and asked: “ere you te Effendi?”

        I took a deep breath: “Nay.”

        to tig ing.

        they asked again.

        “Nay.”

        “hen?”

        “I don’t know!”

        I ell tly about my ance. I asked myself if I omed to tioners and I stayed still for a moment. I felt no pain, I errified.

        Just as I decided from t t t going to kill me, traption t ually dotle damage to my ioner    even a    of apology. I donned my s a.

        there passed a very long silence.

        At tor Osman Effendi. I    to him and kissed his hand.

        “Don’t be ed, my e. “t testing you.”

        I kne o I’d found a neo replais in peace.

        “Our Sultan    you not be tortured at time,” said t appropriate for you to or Master Osman find turists and ts preparing s. You o interrogate turists, scrutied pages t. te appalled by t urists and illuminated manuscripts. Botreasurer an o Enisations and kno turists er urists of to produce t sole—about    Sultan’s express desire t you, my c to undergo torture and interrogation. After t, eacer miniaturists will urn.”

        I could deteo secret gestures reasurer or Master Osman Effendi, reasury.

        “Everyone knoed an’s s and divisions, t tire group is sidered guilty until one among tified and turned in. A se t fails to s midst goes dos offiaster, and is punisor Master Osman ions rating gaze, uigation t    t miniaturists at eacs, and remand ty party to tice of tan, to t er Osman may require be grao    t fisg eac pages t ter miniaturists ing in their homes.”

        It IS I, MAStER OSMANtreasurer reiterated Our Sultan’s decrees before leaving torture.    like a boy. I kneo like    disturb his peace.

        I o examied from ter miniaturists, and to determine ings prepared for Eniso treasurer o clear ed, t be someto to arouse suc disgust and red in a miniaturist like myself istry; merely bad art    provoke su. So, y, I began to reexamiurists wo .

        I saree in tuated ’s border design and gilding o jure tory to rators to draree, dear Butterfly, ork and    of a story so t drao scrutiree, I’d be able to determior s brancary tree; be, te    o tyle of t masters of Suated tion. t all, ed by raising to depict a tree simply as su masters did, ing t ian nor Persian. tree at ttempting to biyles, my miniaturists and t deceased clo it    t tration    h.

        I felt t tures, at t dream    matter also iritated me,     my illustrators ed tures into Our Sultan’s illuminated manuscript. I felt reed Alla in taking Eniso say, I soever to plete t.

        be annoyed by t staring at me from just be ounded by tioning, ty of its tening sidelong glance, o t s teet, by talent of turists    (I ermining precisely    five talent able o imitate t tan    for t to make use of teco tiao explain tension in tures.

        I errified by tling picture, oucer miniaturists in eacist’s    I couldn’t identify o ting uire he

        illustration    some time ure pointing out to Black s ree (Stork), te and floterfly).

        “Of course, a great master miniaturist like yourself, inguis of eacrators, tion of temperament of trokes,” Black said. “But ors to paint ried tecermiists responsible for eaty?”

        I decided to as, and lived all alone in le. rong and migelligent, but merciless srated manuscripts er. So devoted o er t ed for claiming o declare    o ambassadors to ask for urally, ter, and o a room, accessible only ty locked doors. In keeping    t er’s beauty er aion of    rated in t style, a ruman to circulate in Isfay ure er! Even before erious illustration, operembling ears sa er’s beauty ured on toes, it    actually ter, protected by forty locked doors, rayed one nig y ifled by boredom, refleg off a series of mirrors and passi or o reacrator . terful young miniaturist, uo restraiy, o beration    of pleting. It    sure of ryside outing.”

        “My beloved master, my good sir, te a ce,” said Black. “I, too, am quite fond of t se from hüsrev and Shirin.”

        “t fables, but events t actually en, turist didn’t depict tiful daug as a courtesan playing te or setting table, because t    of illustrating at time. As a result, Sy paled beside traordinary beauty of tesan standing off to ting ting’s balance. After ter in tio locate ted miniaturist y miniaturist, fearing tesan and S in yle, but in a neo ceal ity. trokes of quite a feurists o the work as well.”

        “ity of turist wrayed er?”

        “From the ears!”

        “er or ure?”

        “Actually, uition,    laid out all trations t urists ed all t : Regardless of talent, eacurists made ears i didn’t matter if ted an, a cially veiled face of Our Exalted Prop, or even, God forbid again, turist, in eac signature.”

        “hy?”

        “ers illustrated a face, ts exalted beauty, on tates of t s ime to make tole from otated a model nor studied a real ear. For t t aspire to anyt even stop to sider heir brushes from memory.”

        “But didn’t t masters also create terpieces from memory    ever even looking at real rees or people?” said Black.

        “true,” I said, “but ter years of t, plation and refle. y of rated and actual, over times, t t fles s. t a master miniaturist ens of times eventually es close to God’s vision of a ist kno alent, great effort, and insig is a    approac is draed any knoist    it is doing, or before paying attention to ter,    is a flaion, it urist to miniaturist. t is, it amounts to a signature.”

        tion. to ted from turists and the calligraphers.

        “Besides, ears are actually a    once distind on to everyone: a perfect maion of ugliness.”

        “ o turist ies tyle of painting ears?”

        I refrained from saying, “o keep Black from being even more do. Instead, I responded, “er, and to identify miniaturists ever since, is kno is kept secret so t if one of turists makes a forbidden figure or a small design t ceals some miscer denies ermine s inctive desire to draimes transgressions involves finding trivial, quickly draitive details removed from t of ting, suc be rator    tail    signature. Mustace, because many artists are aure any eyebroy: No one pays mution to t’s see o bear upon late Enisrations.”

        t togetrated manuscripts, o ed secretly and t stories and subjects, illustrated in tinct styles; t is, deceased Enisivities reting our prince’s circumcision ceremony, rol. Blad I looked ily wherever I moved my magnifying lens:

        1. In tivities,    studied t a master of tan and purple sasan, mistakably, Olive eetinguiseete’s illustration of Satan, an ominous creature, , t appeared to have e from Samarkand.

        2. On a particularly joyous day of tivities, beloan’s loge overlooking tier gattered ade a plea: “My Exalted Sultan, ages; t is,    free in order to amass ransom. anbul,    o collect to save our bret t us gold or slaves t o excork clearly made to t Our Sultan, at our poor, destitute g tatar ambassadors in ting tures of te’s book.

        3. Among turning somersaults before Our Sultan , o one side on a red carpet; trumely tray in tration of Red in Ehe work of Olive.

        4. As t Our Sultan, tuffed cabbage    and onions in a cauldroing on a stove in t. ter cooks apanying t stood on piing tes on blue stoones ist ly creature in tration t Enisakable terfly.

        5. Mouatar messengers broug to mobilize for anot ttomans, e observation kiosk of tedly affirmed to Our Sultan, Refuge of tries, t t brotion for ru, er bearers ran out to settle t raised in to pour over a mob ready to attack t. t of ter bearers and of tist    of    of Red: also tterfly.

        I    t discovery as I directed our seard left, to t picture t ure and turning to ed    esaook aire afternoon to sort out s    by te Eo interpret t information.

        Black’s late Enis limit any single page to tistic talent of just one miniaturist; all ter miniaturists    of trations. t t tures ion to ticed teurisrokes of a fiftist, but as I gre talent sermined from tious brusrokes t it e—ted poor Elegant Effendi, e’s book and our Book of Festivities (yes, t) and e a fe    t only my t brilliant master miniaturists ributed to trations. trained siicesalents: Olive, Butterfly and Stork.

        Discussing talents, mastery and temperaments to tably led to a discussion of my own life as well:

        ttributes of Olive kno, because I never saure to be plain and reizable;    try to ceal it any creator of trees, animals and t o Istanbul rained by Siyavusrator specializing in faces in tabriz    like ters er o lead tubborn artist to otyles. o trayles and models of t masters billeted deep in et about tirely. old    like many miniaturists o try, ten tyles, if ually learurists resides precisely io memory, ruly fotten ter illustrator. Still, ts, of o eacors in ted miniaturist, ging to old forms iably stirred feelings of guilt and alienation t    to maturity. 2. In a moment of difficulty,    o ten, and te any ne, ory or se by recourse to one of t models. ito    aers in neures.    painting and Istanbul orion happily merged in Olive.

        As urists, I once paid an unannounced visit to    of many oter miniaturists, s, brusable and ots. It ery to me, but    even embarrassed by it. ook no outside jobs to earn a fera silver s. After I related ts, Black said it    ease yles of ters admired by e Enisood to be praise from t of vieaken t    say o t styles—o or Siyavusor Muzaffer, back to ters—to be, but it alurists (I told myself spontaneously),    quiet aive, but also t guilty and traitorous, and by far t devious.    about torture e to mind. (I boted and didn’t    o be tortured.) iced and took at of everytings; o aodate o any situation, o point out mistakes.    not in my opinion a

        murderer. (I didn’t tell Black t believe in anyt    arary to reme fait illumination leads to painting, and painting, in turn, leads to—God forbid—co judge by ist.    s fall s of Butterfly’s, or even Stork’s. I ed Olive to be my son. As I said ted to incur Black’s jealousy, but aring y. t ty boys gatree reg verse and playing lutes, and tack of a dragon.

        “Pere ed Olive to do t picture t ail, in tyle of tan’s fad manner of sitting,” Black said.

        as rying to fuse me?

        “Supposing ter Olive killed Enisure e in order to see t picture?”

        e botions for a while.

        “Because t painting,” said Black. “Or because s somet. Or even…”    for a aken ting to do furto, or even for no reason at all. Olive is, after all, a great illustrator    for a beautiful painting.”

        “e’ve already discussed in    illustrator,” I said, gro none of Enisrations is beautiful.”

        “e    yet seen t painting,” Black said boldly.

        ttributes of Butterflyory district, but to me terfly.” ty of    t believe ted a sed look. I’ve alonisalented as er of color a strengted passionately, reeling    I cautioned Black t Butterfly , I added: urist . If ts of orio meant to cater to intelligence,

        to speak to to bolster tan; t is, if t is meant to be only a festival for tterfly is indeed a true miniaturist. aken lessons from ters of Kazvin forty years ago; ly applies , pure colors, and tle circularity    of ings; but I’m traiers of Kazvin. Maybe it’s for t I love    I never felt any ao mean I don’t respect    Stork frequently    oo. In trast to    assume, a master’s beating doesn’t rid tice of jinns of talent and t only suppresses temporarily. If it o be a good beating, and deserved, later on timulate turist’s resolve to ings I administered to Butterfly, to a tent and obedient artist.

        I at once felt to praise o Black: “Butterfly’s artistry,” I said, “is solid proof t ture of bliss,    ponders in    for uanding and applying color.    Butterfly lacked:    kno momentary loss of fait Jami refers to in ry as ”t of trator painting in t s to ion and te, believing t ing,    of Our Sultan, Our Prop asding tly    rendered by Butterfly, ts of ecstasy springing from tration of mine, if t session terfly to ”color it as you see fit,“ and tfits, leaves, flags a lay ted as if sprinkled    meant to fill a grave begin to ripple in times o be seen tterfly illustrates it, t s life to be jubilation. Ie magnifit go eacime stops, whe Devil never appears.”

        terfly kno enoug e rigo    in    devoid of deptings, not men of tle terfly is icisms, poor man,    times grourists ed t akenly believes to be devilry a straightforward evil and envy.

        es me because o its ecstasy, but only reac    ’s anotists ale more able tterfly to surreo t.

        In o make up for ings, Butterfly is preoccupied    o art. Like turists ures almost invisible to te and delicate craftsmanso tion, ors at an early age, because alent Allaed    miniaturists paint eacree to make an easy name for to gain importan trons.

        Butterfly’s ination to design and illustrate for otrollable o please oto praise. And so it follo an uain Butterfly s to ensure anding by being or. It was Black w.

        “Yes,” I said, “I knoer I die.”

        “Do you to murder urist brethren?”

        “It mig master, but    a leave ts.”

        I said t in trutoo, ed Butterfly to assume leaderser me. I couldn’t trust Olive, and in tork tingly bee slave to tian style. Butterfly’s o be admired—I    at t t ake a life—al in an. Only Butterfly’s sensitivity and faitte could resist tian artistry t duped trying to depict reality itself rats representation, in all its detail: pictures, ss, dlesticks, cables, oxen and carriage o Allah.

        “as time wed hers?”

        “terfly’s    ands tfelt joy and sorro as s carried aions and is fickle. Because I , of ivity to color, I paid close attention to o kno uations, turists quickly bee jealous and ter-disciple relationsrained and damaged. ts of love during    fear    say. Retly, since    seller’s pretty daug to go see he ce.”

        “Rumor    t ands to gain a lot if tain ible h religion, and

        tlatles, ine ceremonies, not to mention parades including everyone from agis, derviso boy dancers, and kebab makers to locksmito ts and forms of ters.”

        “Even if urned skillfully and victoriously to tings of tamerlaime, even if uro t life and vocation in all its minutia—as brigork    be able to do after me—in t’ll be fotten,” I said mercilessly, “because everybody    to paint like the Europeans.”

        Did I actually believe tion?

        “My Enis it filled h hope.”

        ttributes of StorkI’ve seen er Mustafa C paying any mind to o yle, ure or, like ters, remain anonymous, or w a o do so,    sign orious flourish.

        inued bravely do ted to paper cer glassbl ted io make blue pitctles;     attentios trag a graceful arc during a ival; a press squeezing oil from seeds; t ted t objeg t ters of tamerlaime, or trators of tabriz and Kazvin,    loo do so.    Muslim miniaturist to go to urn safe and sound, in preparation for tories t er illustrate.    to eagerly study enemy fortresses, on, armies, ruggling for tent to paint.

        I reize    matter more tyle and from tention to obscure details more t matter. I could entrust e peaind to execute all aspects of a painting, from t of pages and tion to t trivial details. In t to succeed me as or. But ious and ceited, and so desding torators t ually, if it    to riousness, rations in t o sucask,    succeed.    master. . he admires himself. how nice for him.

        ed     ing upon folding ables, desks

        and cusrations for Our Sultan’s books, for me, for miserable e books t ravelers eager to belittle us, one page of a triptyc o be pasted in albums, pages made for ion of coitus. tall, tork ting from one illustration to t like a bee among floice    to ting    to me urists,    stop    exercise of alent and t miniaturists at time). Nocly t if ter miniaturists, I o God it’s Stork. During iy door on Friday ms dide me tterfly did on his day.

        Siention to every odd detail, ion except t it be visible, ic approac of tian masters. But uious Stork ed people’s faces as individual or distinct. I assume, since ly belittled everyo    sider faces important. I’m certain deceased Enis appoint o draan’s face.

        Even    of tmost importance,    keep from situating a skeptical dog someance from t, or draration s subjed himself.

        “Elegant Effendi’s murder resembles tossed o a    of jealousy,” said Black. “And my Enis t set on    Stork loved to paint ses of ions of death.”

        “Anyone    of ture s doesn’t uand me or my master miniaturists.    exposes us is not t, ies ing as    subject: A lig seems to radiate from ure, a palpable ancy er oices in tion of figures, rees, ting from a cypress as it reaco tion and patie roduto tratioempts blindness…Yes, traces, not tical er re paint rying to make t s creator, displaying t and nothing more.”
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