4.0
A Strangeness in my Mind
ByPublisher Description
From the Nobel Prize winner and acclaimed author of My Name is Red comes a modern epic novel that tells the coming of age story of a street vendor in Istanbul and the love of his life.
Arriving in Istanbul as a boy, Mevlut Karataş is enthralled by both the old city that is disappearing and the new one that is fast being built. He becomes a street vendor, like his father, hoping to strike it rich, but luck never seems to be on Mevlut’s side. He spends three years writing love letters to a girl he has seen just once, only to elope by mistake with her sister. Although he grows to cherish his wife and the family they have together, Mevlut stumbles toward middle age as everyone around him seems to be reaping the benefits of a rapidly modernizing Turkey. Told through the eyes of a diverse cast of characters, in A Strangeness in My Mind Nobel-prize-winning author Orhan Pamuk paints a brilliant tableau of life among the newcomers who have changed the face of Istanbul over the past fifty years.
Arriving in Istanbul as a boy, Mevlut Karataş is enthralled by both the old city that is disappearing and the new one that is fast being built. He becomes a street vendor, like his father, hoping to strike it rich, but luck never seems to be on Mevlut’s side. He spends three years writing love letters to a girl he has seen just once, only to elope by mistake with her sister. Although he grows to cherish his wife and the family they have together, Mevlut stumbles toward middle age as everyone around him seems to be reaping the benefits of a rapidly modernizing Turkey. Told through the eyes of a diverse cast of characters, in A Strangeness in My Mind Nobel-prize-winning author Orhan Pamuk paints a brilliant tableau of life among the newcomers who have changed the face of Istanbul over the past fifty years.
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Meet readers like you in the Fable For You feed, designed to build bookish communitiesA Strangeness in my Mind Reviews
4.0
“A simple yet profound tale of a simple boza seller named Mevlut from the ever-evolving streets of Istanbul.
The story begins with Mevlut’s childhood in a small village in Konya, Türkiye, and gradually follows the life he builds for himself in the city of Istanbul. He spends much of his early years out on the streets, learning the art of yogurt and boza trade.
There are many characters in the book, including the family and friends of Mevlut. I personally loved the moments he spent with Ferhat as a young boy on the streets of Beyoğlu, selling small scratch card games and making their own little income.
The prose is simple yet strangely engaging. I found myself going back to the book again and again. Not that there is any sort of plot twist or a mystery to unravel, but the mere yearning to read through the life of Mevlut kept pulling me back.
Since the story spans decades, we are taken through different political shifts and contrasting changes in the lives led by the characters. The decline and the unfortunate cessation of the thriving street vendor culture -along with many others in the hands of urbanisation- of Istanbul are starkly portrayed in the book.
One thing I noted, which evoked a pang in my heart, was the unrelenting poverty faced by Mevlut. We keep hoping for him to achieve a better life for himself and his family, but at the crux of it all, he is shown to be a happy and content man. His struggle to keep up with the pace of constant changes in Istanbul is visible throughout the story.
Another weird yet an important part of the story was Mevlut’s love life, oscillating between the two sisters, Rayiha and Samiha. I think it’s kind of an open ending for the readers to ascertain where his love actually remained, and in my opinion, it stayed with Rayiha even after her untimely demise.
While captivatingly narrating the story of Mevlut and his cousins, Suleyman, Korkut, and other acquaintances, the author takes us through the drastic changes knocking on the doors of Istanbul, ferrying through the ripples of the Golden Horn, and gliding across the winds on the hilltops. The references are direct and subtle at the same time; I don’t really know how to put it. The author is direct in his descriptions, taking a rather different approach to describing the city, quite far from artistic styles.
I can’t help but compare: if we take the works of Elif Shafak, her description of the city of Istanbul makes one long to visit; the descriptions are rife with rich artistic detail. I always enjoy such prose.
This felt missing from this work by Orhan. Oh, don’t get me wrong, it’s never a complaint. It just makes him all the more unique in his style of writing, and I enjoyed his work thoroughly.
More than anything, I was able to picture everything as vividly as possible: Mevlut, his yoghurt stick, his little kids, his tiny gecekondus, his overflowing love for Rayiha, his letters to Samiha, the houses in Kultepe and Dutepe, the Golden Horn, the bustling streets of Taksim, the boza-selling nights, the rogue street dogs, the kismet box, Rayiha’s chicken and rice, Mevlut’s cart, and the Hadji Hamit Mosque on the hilltop;
I could smell the cinnamon sprinkled on each cup of boza sold by Mevlut, the quietude in the abode of his guide- the Imam, Samiha’s perfume, Rayiha’s cooking, and on and on and on.
And everything contributes to a strangeness in his mind, a quiet sense of internal solitude he can’t quite put a finger on, subtly sculpted by the ever changing lives in Istanbul.
Would I recommend this book? ABSOLUTELY.”
“This book feels like it carries the scent of innocence, goodwill, sacrifice, and nostalgia on every single page. Pamuk weaves together countless themes migration, loneliness in the city, class conflict, the pains of growing up, loss, and the search for belonging. Yet for some reason, what stayed with me the most was the idea of marriage.
Rayiha and Mevlut share what might be one of the most realistic portrayals of marriage I have encountered in literature. Their relationship isn’t grand or dramatic; instead, it is built slowly, stitch by stitch. Together they construct a life, nurture their dreams, share both happiness and hardship, and make quiet sacrifices for one another. Through them, Pamuk reminds us that marriage is not about surface-level romance, but about embarking on a deep, shared journey through life.
As we read, we grow alongside Mevlut. Istanbul grows and changes with him. Pamuk beautifully captures the political shifts in the background, the social decay, and the gradual disappearance of old values. The city transforms, and so do the people living in it.
By the time I finished the book, my throat felt tight with emotion. I found myself wanting to hug Mevlut, and perhaps the old Istanbul that slowly faded away with him.”
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