Mark Porton's Reviews > My Name Is Red

You know when you’re in the hands of a master when you are presented with a story that is so different to anything you’ve read before – AND the author makes it stick.

This is a historical fiction love story AND a whodunnit AND an educational piece on Islamic, Frankish and Venetian art. The art component of this book was a surprise and was the reason for me reading this at a snail’s pace. It gets complicated, heavy at times, but fascinating. The miniaturist was the most fascinating member of the illustration team – these guys used the hairs from a cat’s belly for their brushes. I hope the cat wasn't killed in this process.

Each chapter is delivered as a first-person narrative. Which is brilliant, as you’re not sure who to trust. There are chapters narrated by a dog, a corpse, inanimate objects, such as a coin, or even a physical phenomenon like the colour red. Amazing.

We’re in 1591 Istanbul. The all-powerful Sultan has commissioned a bunch of artists, illuminators, calligraphers, miniaturists, and writers to create a book that depicts him and his reign in a different artistic style to that of traditional Islamic art.

This is controversial as Islamic art is not supposed to depict images in a realistic way – such as the European paintings we are familiar with – which can be almost photolike. The only one who can create real-life imagery is Allah. For mere mortals to do otherwise is blasphemous.



An example of 16th century Islamic art. As you can see it’s hardly realistic. The creation of realism – well, that’s the job of Allah. Notice the lack of perspective. Da Vinci would be rolling in his grave



An example of European art (realistic images) – this of Sultan Murat III – during whose rule, the events in this book take place

The first chapter of this books is narrated by a corpse. The product of a savage murder, he’s found at the bottom of a well. This chapter is called “I am a Corpse.” There’s the start of our whodunnit.

Concurrently, we have a man called Black, who returns to Istanbul after a twelve-year absence, and finds he is still attracted to a beautiful woman he knew when both were children, called Shekure. Shekure's husband has not returned from the battlefront for a four-years. Black is in love with Shekure and wishes to marry her. Shekure’s brother-in-law also has the same desires. Drama and intrigue ensue. There's the other complexity involving the challenges involved in divorcing a man who may still be alive.

There are over twenty narrators in this book. Believe me, it doesn’t get confusing, the format helps and creates a feeling of ‘being there’.

There’s one other thing about Pamuk, he can be bloody funny at times, and he also drops in the occasional explicitly erotic scene, something to keep the blood rushing through the reader’s veins. Not this reader of course, I’m above all of that!

Pamuk managed to keep the suspense building, keeping me guessing who the murderer was right to the very end, all while educating me about sixteenth-century Islamic art.

I really have too much to say – so I had better stop.

I highly recommended this book. I initially gave this four-stars, but after dwelling on how good this was for a couple of days, I had to re-grade it to a thumping fiver-stars!!!!

5 Stars