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The Traitor's Niche
At the heart of the Ottoman Empire, in the main square of Constantinople, a niche is carved into ancient stone. Here, the sultan displays the severed heads of his adversaries. People flock to see the latest head and gossip about the state of the empire: the province of Albania is demanding independence again, and the niche awaits a new trophy…
Tundj Hata, the imperial courier, is charged with transporting heads to the capital – a task he relishes and performs with fervour. But as he travels through obscure and impoverished territories, he makes money from illicit side-shows, offering villagers the spectacle of death. The head of the rebellious Albanian governor would fetch a very high price.
The Traitor’s Niche is a surreal tale of rebellion and tyranny, in a land where armies carry scarecrows, state officials ban entire languages, and the act of forgetting is more complicated than remembering.
Tundj Hata, the imperial courier, is charged with transporting heads to the capital – a task he relishes and performs with fervour. But as he travels through obscure and impoverished territories, he makes money from illicit side-shows, offering villagers the spectacle of death. The head of the rebellious Albanian governor would fetch a very high price.
The Traitor’s Niche is a surreal tale of rebellion and tyranny, in a land where armies carry scarecrows, state officials ban entire languages, and the act of forgetting is more complicated than remembering.
208 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1978
About the author
Ismail Kadare
279 books1,609 followersIsmail Kadare (also spelled Kadaré) was an Albanian novelist and poet. He has been a leading literary figure in Albania since the 1960s. He focused on short stories until the publication of his first novel, The General of the Dead Army. In 1996 he became a lifetime member of the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences of France. In 1992, he was awarded the Prix mondial Cino Del Duca; in 2005, he won the inaugural Man Booker International Prize, in 2009 the Prince of Asturias Award of Arts, and in 2015 the Jerusalem Prize. He has divided his time between Albania and France since 1990. Kadare has been mentioned as a possible recipient for the Nobel Prize in Literature several times. His works have been published in about 30 languages.
Ismail Kadare was born in 1936 in Gjirokastër, in the south of Albania. His education included studies at the University of Tirana and then the Gorky Institute for World Literature in Moscow, a training school for writers and critics.
In 1960 Kadare returned to Albania after the country broke ties with the Soviet Union, and he became a journalist and published his first poems.
His first novel, The General of the Dead Army, sprang from a short story, and its success established his name in Albania and enabled Kadare to become a full-time writer.
Kadare's novels draw on Balkan history and legends. They are obliquely ironic as a result of trying to withstand political scrutiny. Among his best known books are Chronicle in Stone (1977), Broken April (1978), and The Concert (1988), considered the best novel of the year 1991 by the French literary magazine Lire.
In 1990, Kadare claimed political asylum in France, issuing statements in favour of democratisation. During the ordeal, he stated that "dictatorship and authentic literature are incompatible. The writer is the natural enemy of dictatorship."
Ismail Kadare was born in 1936 in Gjirokastër, in the south of Albania. His education included studies at the University of Tirana and then the Gorky Institute for World Literature in Moscow, a training school for writers and critics.
In 1960 Kadare returned to Albania after the country broke ties with the Soviet Union, and he became a journalist and published his first poems.
His first novel, The General of the Dead Army, sprang from a short story, and its success established his name in Albania and enabled Kadare to become a full-time writer.
Kadare's novels draw on Balkan history and legends. They are obliquely ironic as a result of trying to withstand political scrutiny. Among his best known books are Chronicle in Stone (1977), Broken April (1978), and The Concert (1988), considered the best novel of the year 1991 by the French literary magazine Lire.
In 1990, Kadare claimed political asylum in France, issuing statements in favour of democratisation. During the ordeal, he stated that "dictatorship and authentic literature are incompatible. The writer is the natural enemy of dictatorship."
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March 24, 2020
”The head was establishing its rapport with the crowd. Its glassy eyes sought human eyes. Death hung in the air, transparently visible. As the cold tightened its grip, the spectators felt drawn closer to the frontier of death, almost touching it. In a few moments the crowd and death would congeal in a waxen, translucent unity.”
Black Ali Pasha of Albania has decided at the age of 82 to rebel against the Sultan in Constantinople. It is not readily clear if he has a death wish or at least that he wants to have a brief moment of perceived freedom before his head is separated from his body.
He knows. The Sultan knows. Everyone knows he won’t win.
The Sultan sends his soldiers to Albania carrying their menacing, black scarecrows, striking terror on the level of stormtroopers or the Waffen-SS
The traitor’s niche in the Cannon Gate awaits Black Ali’s head.
At the Traitor’s Niche, there is a man by the name of Abdulla who is assigned the task of watching over the Niche. He examines the heads twice a day to make sure they are not deteriorating. If anything goes awry with one of the heads, it will be his head. He has recently married and is having trouble…. ”He felt betrayed. His body was slowly failing, about to give up. But the brunt of his anger was directed towards what had previously been his greatest joy: his cock. He could not forgive it. When he was not with his bride, when he was in the street or the cafe or even at the site of his sacred duty, it would unexpectedly swell and be ready for any exploit, but when he was with his wife it became flabby, shrank, and retreated like a puppy faced with a tiger. And so he cursed it for its treachery.”
Before the heads reach Abdulla, they have to be fetched from sometimes the far reaches of the empire. The odious Tundj Hata is the man for that job. It is a nasty assignment which most people would do because they have no choice, but Hata loves it. In fact, you might even say he relishes it. He is pale with a henna stained beard. So what does a man like this dream about as he is riding in a carriage with a snow wrapped head from Albania?
”His brain resembled some clinging creature with the inner luminescence of a glow-worm, whose slime smeared the domes of mosques and mausoleums, banknotes, and the wombs of women awaiting insemination.”
*Shiver*
There is a great emphasis on dreams in the Turkish empire, and soldiers on the march are required to turn in their dreams for analysis so the dream interpreters can sift through their muddled thoughts in search of omens of the near future. The Palace of Dreams back in Constantinople requires dreams from the citizens as well. It sort of reminds me of Roman priests looking at the entrails of a fatted calf to determine if the auguries are favorable.
The empire also has a system to bring a conquered country fully under their control. There are five principal stages:
A physical crushing of the rebellion.
The extirpation of any idea of rebellion.
The destruction of culture, art, and tradition.
The eradication or impoverishment of the language.
The extinction or enfeeblement of the national memory.
Ismail Kadare takes us into the minds of Black Ali Pasha, his 22 year old bride, Hurshid Pasha the conqueror of Albania, Abdulla the keeper of the heads, and Tundj Hata the fetcher of the heads, and by doing so gives us a complete picture of a brutal world at the height of Turkish conquest. I remember having a similar experience when I read his book The Siege. I was completely submerged in the minds of the principle characters. This access bloomed the ramifications of the events of the story into a grand epic of images . Kadare writes these thoughtful, stark passages, and every sentence is so finely honed that it makes me wonder how much better it would be in his native Albanian. Another wonderful adventure with Kadare with extra bonus points for a cameo by Lord Byron himself.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com
I also have a Facebook blogger page at:https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten
Black Ali Pasha of Albania has decided at the age of 82 to rebel against the Sultan in Constantinople. It is not readily clear if he has a death wish or at least that he wants to have a brief moment of perceived freedom before his head is separated from his body.
He knows. The Sultan knows. Everyone knows he won’t win.
The Sultan sends his soldiers to Albania carrying their menacing, black scarecrows, striking terror on the level of stormtroopers or the Waffen-SS
The traitor’s niche in the Cannon Gate awaits Black Ali’s head.
At the Traitor’s Niche, there is a man by the name of Abdulla who is assigned the task of watching over the Niche. He examines the heads twice a day to make sure they are not deteriorating. If anything goes awry with one of the heads, it will be his head. He has recently married and is having trouble…. ”He felt betrayed. His body was slowly failing, about to give up. But the brunt of his anger was directed towards what had previously been his greatest joy: his cock. He could not forgive it. When he was not with his bride, when he was in the street or the cafe or even at the site of his sacred duty, it would unexpectedly swell and be ready for any exploit, but when he was with his wife it became flabby, shrank, and retreated like a puppy faced with a tiger. And so he cursed it for its treachery.”
Before the heads reach Abdulla, they have to be fetched from sometimes the far reaches of the empire. The odious Tundj Hata is the man for that job. It is a nasty assignment which most people would do because they have no choice, but Hata loves it. In fact, you might even say he relishes it. He is pale with a henna stained beard. So what does a man like this dream about as he is riding in a carriage with a snow wrapped head from Albania?
”His brain resembled some clinging creature with the inner luminescence of a glow-worm, whose slime smeared the domes of mosques and mausoleums, banknotes, and the wombs of women awaiting insemination.”
*Shiver*
There is a great emphasis on dreams in the Turkish empire, and soldiers on the march are required to turn in their dreams for analysis so the dream interpreters can sift through their muddled thoughts in search of omens of the near future. The Palace of Dreams back in Constantinople requires dreams from the citizens as well. It sort of reminds me of Roman priests looking at the entrails of a fatted calf to determine if the auguries are favorable.
The empire also has a system to bring a conquered country fully under their control. There are five principal stages:
A physical crushing of the rebellion.
The extirpation of any idea of rebellion.
The destruction of culture, art, and tradition.
The eradication or impoverishment of the language.
The extinction or enfeeblement of the national memory.
Ismail Kadare takes us into the minds of Black Ali Pasha, his 22 year old bride, Hurshid Pasha the conqueror of Albania, Abdulla the keeper of the heads, and Tundj Hata the fetcher of the heads, and by doing so gives us a complete picture of a brutal world at the height of Turkish conquest. I remember having a similar experience when I read his book The Siege. I was completely submerged in the minds of the principle characters. This access bloomed the ramifications of the events of the story into a grand epic of images . Kadare writes these thoughtful, stark passages, and every sentence is so finely honed that it makes me wonder how much better it would be in his native Albanian. Another wonderful adventure with Kadare with extra bonus points for a cameo by Lord Byron himself.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com
I also have a Facebook blogger page at:https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten
January 24, 2022
“Perhaps nowhere else could the eyes of passers-by so easily grasp the interdependency between the imposing solidity of the ancient square and the human heads that had dared to show it disrespect.”
Ismail Kadare’s The Traitor’s Niche opens in the capital of the Ottoman Empire, Constantinople, in a public square where tourists come to drink coffee and gawk. Known as the Traitor’s Niche, this square is where the sultan displays the severed heads of the Ottoman’s Empire’s latest enemy. Kadare presents this display as more than some macabre and anachronistic ritual. What the severed heads represent to establishing order and claiming cultural legitimacy, in both the center of the empire as well as its far flung provinces (here it’s Albania) lies at the heart of The Traitor’s Niche. Kirkus Review called this novel “A political fable of decapitation amid totalitarian oppression combines wickedly funny satire with darker, deeper lessons.” I like this characterization. There are definitely lessons here, especially about authoritarianism, but the comedy doesn’t roll off the pages. It’s something you need to grapple with. Though it is a short novel, there’s a lot going on and Kadare moves from a detailed and realistic picture of life in the empire to a more abstract battle of memory. The common thread is somehow the severed heads.
Even though The Traitor’s Niche is short, don’t think of this as an easy book to get through. With its shifting cast of perspectives and lack of traditional plot, it is sometimes difficult to follow. However, the ending is powerful (and wickedly funny) and brings the book back into stark focus.
I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Ismail Kadare’s The Traitor’s Niche opens in the capital of the Ottoman Empire, Constantinople, in a public square where tourists come to drink coffee and gawk. Known as the Traitor’s Niche, this square is where the sultan displays the severed heads of the Ottoman’s Empire’s latest enemy. Kadare presents this display as more than some macabre and anachronistic ritual. What the severed heads represent to establishing order and claiming cultural legitimacy, in both the center of the empire as well as its far flung provinces (here it’s Albania) lies at the heart of The Traitor’s Niche. Kirkus Review called this novel “A political fable of decapitation amid totalitarian oppression combines wickedly funny satire with darker, deeper lessons.” I like this characterization. There are definitely lessons here, especially about authoritarianism, but the comedy doesn’t roll off the pages. It’s something you need to grapple with. Though it is a short novel, there’s a lot going on and Kadare moves from a detailed and realistic picture of life in the empire to a more abstract battle of memory. The common thread is somehow the severed heads.
Even though The Traitor’s Niche is short, don’t think of this as an easy book to get through. With its shifting cast of perspectives and lack of traditional plot, it is sometimes difficult to follow. However, the ending is powerful (and wickedly funny) and brings the book back into stark focus.
I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
December 18, 2022
The unblinking eyes met the stares of the passersby and tourists who poured into the square from all directions. The tourists’ own gaze, like that of all moving crowds, was mild and unfocused, but people’s eyes suddenly froze as soon as they encountered this sight, as if their astonished pupils struggled to sink back into the depths of their skulls, and only the impossibility of doing this compelled them to stand still and face what they saw. Most went pale, some wanted to vomit. Only a few looked on calmly. The eyes were indifferent, of a color you could not call bluish or even gray, and which it was hard to name, because it was less of a color than the distant reflection of a void.Ooh, ooh, can I get a selfie?
Here’s a heads up for you. Ismail Kadare is an author of note. He was the first recipient of the International Man Booker prize in 2005, and is frequently mentioned as a candidate for the Nobel. There is always a bit of a downside in understanding when one enters a considerable literary oeuvre anywhere but at the beginning. Odds are the name Kadare is as new to you as it was to me. He has been at it since the 1960s. A native, he studied in Communist Albania’s University of Tirana, and later at an institute in Moscow, returning home when the Soviet Union and Albania parted ways in 1960, but not before publishing a collection of poems in Russian and writing his first novel, which was daring in his world, as it was a stark contrast to the social realism literary form preached by Communist leadership. His work was banned by Albanian officials, and he was blocked from publishing for three years. He had a breakthrough in 1970 when a 1963 novel of his was translated into French, gaining him international notice.
Ismail Kadare - image from his FB page
Kadare is both a political/historical satirist and a champion of the Albanian language, doing what he can to keep it alive, and even doing some promotional housekeeping by restoring the use of Albanian words where foreign words have found their way into the language. It is a dodgy enterprise, of course, writing criticism of one’s autocratic political leadership. Tends to leave one with prolonged periods of barred isolation or, in extreme situations, can result in a bad case of dead. Kadare did what he could to keep his body parts attached and keep himself free to move about. This entailed some compromise, which earned him the antipathy of many.
Nevertheless, he has managed to produce a large volume of work over the decades. Born in 1936, he is now (2018) 82 years old. The Traitor’s Niche was released in 1978. You can check here for a list of his considerable published work. So how does one continue to call out one’s government for their crimes, and somehow manage to stay alive? By never going after them overtly. Kadare’s forte is allusion, suggestion, implication. Thus deniability. Of course, it is entirely possible to look at his work in multiple dimensions. Well, keep in mind that I have read only this one, so am making an educated guess here.
1870s Constantinople- image from wikipedia
First is the story itself. Does it move forward? Are the characters interesting? I must say that while I found the story (or really the sub-stories within) interesting at times, it was clearly not the thing, overall. Even knowing nothing about the author it was clear that this was about something other than the specifics of this-then-that. The story is a multi-narrator description of a time when a capital city, Istanbul, formerly Byzantium, Augusta Antonina, New Rome, Constantinople, and a few besides, included in one of the gates to the city a special niche. It was a small stage on which would be displayed the severed head of an enemy of the state, an attempt to discourage thoughts of breaking away from the Ottoman super power empire.
Abdulla, the third Keeper of the Niche (don’t ask about the first two), is in charge of the head, which he inspects twice a day. Even jobs of this sort are fraught with peril, as one keeper of a particular statue was transported for life for the high crime of allowing a rust stain to appear on its western face. Abdulla has issues of his own outside work. While his larger head is willing, his little head is not, at least when it comes to his bride. He even dreams of discarding his body and being reduced solely to a head, so expectations of him would be reduced.
Ahmet Fountain – image from Turkish Culture Portal
Hurshid Pasha, commander of Ottoman troops, has been sent to Albania to retrieve the head of a rebellious leader, Black Ali, aka Ali Pasha Teplena. The mission quickly completed, off-screen, he hands the prize over to a courier, Tundj Hata. Tundj has made a bit of a business for himself out of this job, as people in towns along his route back to the capital are willing to pay to see a severed head, particularly of someone so important.
Tundj Hata laid the bag on the wooden bench and announced in a resounding voice:Not exactly a rabbit out of a hat, but Abracadabra, indeed. Tundj has a rather troubling relationship with the heads he transports, almost ghoulish, almost sexual. He talks to them way too much. Guy is definitely a creepazoid. There is one hilarious scene with Tundj, when he needs to dry out one of his passengers and takes it out in an unlikely place.
“Ali Teplena, Black Prince, governor of Albania, a pasha of the first rank, and member of the Council of Ministers.”
As he uttered the last word, he put his hand in the bag and, gripping the head by the hair, drew it out in a swift movement…As the cold tightened its grip, the spectators felt drawn closer to the frontier of death, almost touching it.
Istanbul, 1850s - image from Ottoman Imperial Archive
Ali Pasha’s beautiful 22-year-old widow, Vasiliqia, considers her options. She recalls for us her late hubby’s plan for Albanian independence. The old guy (82) had thought to rally the nation around him to pull away from the empire, neglecting to consider that he had treated the Albanian people shabbily for the entirety of his tenure, so was left with no allies, no public support, and no…well, you know.
Others are brought in to fill us in on how the empire goes about destroying those who would oppose it.
The partial or full erasure of the national identity of peoples, which was the main task of the Central Archive, was carried out according to the old secret doctrine of Caw-caw and passed through five principal stages: first, the physical crushing of rebellion; second, the extirpation of any idea of rebellion; third, the destruction of culture, art, and tradition; fourth the eradication or impoverishment of the language; and fifth, the extinction or enfeeblement of the national memory. The briefest of all these stages was the physical crushing of rebellion, which merely meant war, but the longest phase was the reduction of the language into Nonspeak, as it was called for short.
Istanbul in 1858 – image from AGWallace.wordpress.com
Was this how things were done in the days of the Ottomans? No idea. Maybe, maybe not. But one would expect that the barbs being inserted here were intended for the Yugoslavs who were bent on absorbing Albania into their nation, and the hide of the Albanian Communist leaders of his time, a brutal Stalinist dictatorship that switched allegiance to Mao’s China when relations with the Soviet Union went south, local leadership insisting, despite Nikita Khrushchev’s declarations, that Stalin was really an ok guy. Tens of thousands were executed during the brutal dictatorship (of the proletariat, of course) of Enver Hoxha.
There are perils for sure, as no head appears to be securely attached, whether because of harboring dreams of independence, being in the way of someone else’s rise through the ranks, or maybe pissing off the wrong politician. While horrific, those might be at least understandable reasons. One might also come to a bad end because of some idiot’s interpretation of a prisoner’s dreams. The actual Palace of Dreams is given a literal interpretation here. This may be the 19th century, but it is a very dark age indeed.
Edirne, 19th Century - image from Ottoman Imperial Archives
While Kadare’s character portraits are far from compelling, they do offer meaningful perspectives. How might a lowly bureaucrat react to a whimsical government? How to cope when the logic of leadership is inexplicable? I imagine one can find an example of that sort of stress very close to home. But Kadare is not solely writing about the Ottoman rule, and its attempt to erase the Albanian nation and culture from human memory. He is also writing about the 20th century attempt by Yugoslavia to absorb Albania, and the Soviet attempt to control it. The pushing and pulling of Albania by diverse powers finds a concrete manifestation here.
the distant sound of wheels reached Hurshid Pasha’s ears. He’s gone, he thought. Wrapping his shoulders in a woolen blanket, he closed his eyes for the tenth time, but still he couldn’t sleep. He felt a constant pressure in his temples. The hissing wind, racing low over the surface of the land, seemed to penetrate his skull. The head has set off for Asia, he thought, but the body remains in Europe. His imagination conjured up some sticky, ectoplasmic creature, pulled by both continents, endlessly lengthening and becoming thinner and more transparent, as if at any moment it might turn into some ethereal substance, something between a cloud and the tail of a cometI found the bit about posting a head marginally effective. Nations do display a strong inclination toward cohering around a perceived (or fluffed up) common enemy, so it does make sense. And this sort of thing has been used as a warning in many cultures. FYI, while I did not turn up a Traitor’s Niche in my slight research into Ottoman public spaces in Istanbul I did come across mention of the Edirne Palace, which was a sometime capitol. It included a Justice Pavilion with two stone columns in front of it. One of those was named the “Warning Stone” and was used for displaying the heads of criminals. So much more permanent than an apology tour.
Hagia Sophia - image from picturesforwalls.com
The writer whose work most popped to mind while reading this was Kafka, for the wide gulf between cause and effect and the paranoia that seems both extreme and justified, something Kadare is certainly familiar with, living as he did under an oppressive autocratic regime, well, until he left the country, anyway.
This is not a gripping, action-adventure read. Things do happen, and characters do move from here to there, but this is much more an intellectual than a visceral book. It helps to know who Kadare is, and it helps to have at least a surface familiarity with the history of Albania. Both are easily taken care of with a visit to wikipedia. If you enjoy Kafka, and his take on the madness of the world, you will probably enjoy The Traitor’s Niche. There is dark humor here that made me smile on occasion, an appreciation for human folly, present in all times, and among all nationalities. What I found more engaging was the look, in the latter third of the book, on how conquerors go about erasing the culture and identity of the conquered. Many echoes there of today’s world. This was the strongest element of the book for me. The translation was one step removed, as John Hodgson translated this to English from the French translation. Who knows what nuances from the original Albanian were lost in the two subsequent trips through the word-grinder?
Istanbul, 1800s - image from Ottoman Imperial Archive
Although Kadare is a well-regarded, world renowned author, I was not blown away by The Traitor’s Gate. While I do respect the craft on display here, and while I was very impressed with his description of how nations disappear other nations, it was not a gripping read. If this particular form of literature is your cuppa, it is a five-star read, for sure, but if you require more visceral engagement you will find it disappointing. Kadare, of course, deserves all the credit and attention he can get for having produced serious works of art under such perilous conditions, however many stars you might assign. My gut wants to give this book three stars. My brain wants to give it five for the author’s daring and inventiveness. So, four it is. Head and heart working together, well, until they take me away.
Publication
-----June 12, 2018 – English translation in the USA
-----1978 in original Albanian
Review – directly in American English – July 20, 2018
=============================EXTRA STUFF
The author’s FB page
A Nice piece on Kadare in Britannica
John Hodgon article on Kadare - What is Ismail Kadare like in Albanian?
Interesting wiki on George Castriot, aka Skanderbeg, a seminal figure in Albanian history, who comes in for significant mention in the novel
March 5, 2020
Never has a story with so many severed heads contained so little violence. Or dread. It's the normality of things I guess, the dissolution of the horrid, that is what is brilliant in itself...
I've never read an Albanian novel before, but Ismail Kadare's style seems a bit style-less, repetitive, & not as Western-ready as I had predicted (for instance, there is no plot to speak of). That there is a public place that requires a traitors head to satiate the people-- this is a metaphor that not an entire novel makes.
I've never read an Albanian novel before, but Ismail Kadare's style seems a bit style-less, repetitive, & not as Western-ready as I had predicted (for instance, there is no plot to speak of). That there is a public place that requires a traitors head to satiate the people-- this is a metaphor that not an entire novel makes.
July 28, 2021
Black Ali: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ali_Pas...
Hurshid Pasha: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurshid...
The Sultan of that time: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mahmud_II
In the main square of Constantinople of the Ottoman Empire is a niche in stone which displays the severed heads of sultan’s adversaries, much visited, where gossip of Albania’s independence demands now appear in people’s talks. The year is 1822, only some time before the downward line of the decline of the empire will start, but already first signs seem to be in the air. One viewpoint in this story is of Tundj Hata, the imperial field courier, who transports new heads to the capital from the Western side of the empire, using this chance to give illicit side-shows in peasant villages on the way. We follow the aftermath of the death of Ali Pasha, the newest head to be carried to the capital, but not the last.
We follow the thoughts of more than just one person in this story: Abdulla, the keeper of the niche, whose health has always been delicate (and who ); Hurshid Pasha, who has been victorious but now fears that his head is also in danger because of ; Vasiliqia, the widow of Ali Pasha, who has met Byron when he came to visit, and who ponders on the last days of the Pasha, before she is taken to the capital; some thoughts of the people who have arrived to Albania to consider what will be the fate of it after this also appear – will it perhaps be given the sentence of ‘caw-caw’, the erasing of a land’s national identity (culture, language, clothes, buildings etc.), which has happened to some countries Tundj Hata passes on his way back to the capital – safer to travel through than countries in a state of emergency where people turn on each other.
One gets a feel of the cold of winter in this story, mostly in the places outside the capital – the snow, wind, mud of Albania, the snow-covered villages there and in Caw-Caw lands east of it, the easy availability of snow for preserving the heads, the cold of Ali Pasha’s castle, the sound of ice under Hurshid Pasha’s feet as he walks around the camp. The mood of the book gives one a sense of the empire’s delicate balance, of modern things appearing (the foreign press, newspapers, Byron, Napoleon…), the feel of the capital and its various buildings and the sound of many voices of the people observing what’s in the traitor’s niche now – which bookends this book quite nicely, blurring the story’s edges.
(In chapter four there is a mention of the battle of the Plain Of Kosovo, and the shrine for sultan Murad near it; this part is further expanded in the author's later book, “Elegy For Kosovo”, which I have already reviewed earlier.)
I think it’s interesting to observe Tundj Hata’s variety of moods as he travels back from Albania, . It’s not like he’s new to this work; he’s been doing it for a while now, and can remember some particularly good trips. In this empire, each direction where the heads come from has its own gate, one for European side, one for the Asian side, and we get to read the reactions of the western gate’s guards when Tundj arrives to it.
Once again I was pulled in by the author's style of language, the moods and the history of the book, with some things I haven’t heard before, which is always nice. It shows how hard it is sometimes for the empire to control its people, no matter how octopus-like capital wants to have a say in everything the people are, the people desire there. And always at some point things start to come apart, sometimes so that only afterwards one might see them. Following the viewpoints of some of the people within empire, often at the mercy of the system one way or another, was a good experience in seeing what it could be like at this point of time.
Hurshid Pasha: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurshid...
The Sultan of that time: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mahmud_II
In the main square of Constantinople of the Ottoman Empire is a niche in stone which displays the severed heads of sultan’s adversaries, much visited, where gossip of Albania’s independence demands now appear in people’s talks. The year is 1822, only some time before the downward line of the decline of the empire will start, but already first signs seem to be in the air. One viewpoint in this story is of Tundj Hata, the imperial field courier, who transports new heads to the capital from the Western side of the empire, using this chance to give illicit side-shows in peasant villages on the way. We follow the aftermath of the death of Ali Pasha, the newest head to be carried to the capital, but not the last.
We follow the thoughts of more than just one person in this story: Abdulla, the keeper of the niche, whose health has always been delicate (and who ); Hurshid Pasha, who has been victorious but now fears that his head is also in danger because of ; Vasiliqia, the widow of Ali Pasha, who has met Byron when he came to visit, and who ponders on the last days of the Pasha, before she is taken to the capital; some thoughts of the people who have arrived to Albania to consider what will be the fate of it after this also appear – will it perhaps be given the sentence of ‘caw-caw’, the erasing of a land’s national identity (culture, language, clothes, buildings etc.), which has happened to some countries Tundj Hata passes on his way back to the capital – safer to travel through than countries in a state of emergency where people turn on each other.
One gets a feel of the cold of winter in this story, mostly in the places outside the capital – the snow, wind, mud of Albania, the snow-covered villages there and in Caw-Caw lands east of it, the easy availability of snow for preserving the heads, the cold of Ali Pasha’s castle, the sound of ice under Hurshid Pasha’s feet as he walks around the camp. The mood of the book gives one a sense of the empire’s delicate balance, of modern things appearing (the foreign press, newspapers, Byron, Napoleon…), the feel of the capital and its various buildings and the sound of many voices of the people observing what’s in the traitor’s niche now – which bookends this book quite nicely, blurring the story’s edges.
(In chapter four there is a mention of the battle of the Plain Of Kosovo, and the shrine for sultan Murad near it; this part is further expanded in the author's later book, “Elegy For Kosovo”, which I have already reviewed earlier.)
I think it’s interesting to observe Tundj Hata’s variety of moods as he travels back from Albania, . It’s not like he’s new to this work; he’s been doing it for a while now, and can remember some particularly good trips. In this empire, each direction where the heads come from has its own gate, one for European side, one for the Asian side, and we get to read the reactions of the western gate’s guards when Tundj arrives to it.
Once again I was pulled in by the author's style of language, the moods and the history of the book, with some things I haven’t heard before, which is always nice. It shows how hard it is sometimes for the empire to control its people, no matter how octopus-like capital wants to have a say in everything the people are, the people desire there. And always at some point things start to come apart, sometimes so that only afterwards one might see them. Following the viewpoints of some of the people within empire, often at the mercy of the system one way or another, was a good experience in seeing what it could be like at this point of time.
June 6, 2018
Traitor's Niche is a place where heads of traitors were displayed for public to see and know what happens when they question authority in Ottoman empire. The idea of characters being constantly made face to face with a dead face and thoughts that might occur to him might have been interesting. But it actually turned out to be most boring book I have read out of international booker lists so far. I don't know how it ever got listed. The narrative isnt stimulating and there isn't much of a plot either.
April 2, 2017
I did not expect to really enjoy a book about a niche in a wall in Constantinople where the heads of traitors are put on display and carefully tended. Also surprising is that this book was written 40 years ago, because it feels very current. Unfortunately, powerful regimes stopping at nothing to silence those who rebel against them is still relevant. The real strength of this book to me is that it is both meaningful & cleverly written.
The writing is beautiful. The story is set in the winter of the 1800s : "The February wind whistled in a thousand languages across the plain darkened by winter and war. It is February in all the infinite lands of the empire, he groaned to himself. Why should he think there might be a fragment of March somewhere, or even a scrap of April? A little March for the empire's chosen sons, he thought. But it was February for everyone."
Whether it makes the official MBI shortlist or not, I expect it will be on my own personal shortlist.
The writing is beautiful. The story is set in the winter of the 1800s : "The February wind whistled in a thousand languages across the plain darkened by winter and war. It is February in all the infinite lands of the empire, he groaned to himself. Why should he think there might be a fragment of March somewhere, or even a scrap of April? A little March for the empire's chosen sons, he thought. But it was February for everyone."
Whether it makes the official MBI shortlist or not, I expect it will be on my own personal shortlist.
December 27, 2020
Short by a head
Cold, rainy, dark and bleak landscapes are Kadare’s forte. His novels teem with such scenes and very often they are the perfect backdrop to his deep and meaning-laden stories. Ali Pasha Tepelena ruled Epirus and other parts of Albania and Greece within the Ottoman empire with an iron hand at the end of the 18th century and up to 1822. Renowned for his cruelty as well as some modernizing tendencies, he gradually tried to separate his domain from Ottoman rule with the help of various Greek and Albanian factions. Though he managed to hold off a substantial army led by Hurshid Pasha for some time, he was eventually defeated and shot. His head was cut off and sent to Istanbul (Constantinople). His young wife, brought to the Ottoman capital, was soon married off to one of the victors. This is dark enough a story for anybody.
In a central location in Istanbul, in a wall facing many important buildings, was a niche, purposely set there for the display of heads that had belonged to those who particularly angered the Sultans. Only one head at a time could fit, and each was preserved carefully with ice and honey, guarded by a special official, until it was time to replace it with another victim’s. This “Traitor’s Niche” is at the center of the novel, along with a character whose job it was to bring back the heads of designated “traitors”. The story is pure Kadare---corruption, betrayals, the unfeeling, unpredictable brutality and injustice of absolute power. Mixed in are references to Albanian history and hints of modern Albanian political currents (none too salubrious to be sure). Though Ali Pasha was an ethnic Albanian, his capital was in modern Greece and so was much of his territory. Kadare has all the action in “Albania” only. This was no doubt a good idea in the ultra-nationalistic Albania of dictator Enver Hoxha. Though admiring its ideas and construction, I felt that this novel fell short of many of his other works because it is rather light-weight; it lacks a substantial plot. Even the question of Ali Pasha’s treasure does not stir much excitement, though it leads to another head. Psychological portraits of Ali Pasha and Hurshid Pasha reflect Kadare as much as history. THE TRAITOR’S NICHE is one long, grim nightmare of fear and despair shadowed by arbitrary rule by powers on high. Perhaps I have overdosed on Kadare’s style, but never on his overall ability as one of the great writers of the times.
I would recommend “Chronicle in Stone”, “The Three-Arched Bridge”, “Broken April”, “The Palace of Dreams”, “General of the Dead Army”, “Three Elegies for Kosovo”, and “Girl in Exile” as the best, though there are several other excellent novels as well. This book and “Doruntine” are perhaps some of his lesser works. I wonder if he will ever get the Nobel he deserves. (I’ve been saying that for 20 years.)
Cold, rainy, dark and bleak landscapes are Kadare’s forte. His novels teem with such scenes and very often they are the perfect backdrop to his deep and meaning-laden stories. Ali Pasha Tepelena ruled Epirus and other parts of Albania and Greece within the Ottoman empire with an iron hand at the end of the 18th century and up to 1822. Renowned for his cruelty as well as some modernizing tendencies, he gradually tried to separate his domain from Ottoman rule with the help of various Greek and Albanian factions. Though he managed to hold off a substantial army led by Hurshid Pasha for some time, he was eventually defeated and shot. His head was cut off and sent to Istanbul (Constantinople). His young wife, brought to the Ottoman capital, was soon married off to one of the victors. This is dark enough a story for anybody.
In a central location in Istanbul, in a wall facing many important buildings, was a niche, purposely set there for the display of heads that had belonged to those who particularly angered the Sultans. Only one head at a time could fit, and each was preserved carefully with ice and honey, guarded by a special official, until it was time to replace it with another victim’s. This “Traitor’s Niche” is at the center of the novel, along with a character whose job it was to bring back the heads of designated “traitors”. The story is pure Kadare---corruption, betrayals, the unfeeling, unpredictable brutality and injustice of absolute power. Mixed in are references to Albanian history and hints of modern Albanian political currents (none too salubrious to be sure). Though Ali Pasha was an ethnic Albanian, his capital was in modern Greece and so was much of his territory. Kadare has all the action in “Albania” only. This was no doubt a good idea in the ultra-nationalistic Albania of dictator Enver Hoxha. Though admiring its ideas and construction, I felt that this novel fell short of many of his other works because it is rather light-weight; it lacks a substantial plot. Even the question of Ali Pasha’s treasure does not stir much excitement, though it leads to another head. Psychological portraits of Ali Pasha and Hurshid Pasha reflect Kadare as much as history. THE TRAITOR’S NICHE is one long, grim nightmare of fear and despair shadowed by arbitrary rule by powers on high. Perhaps I have overdosed on Kadare’s style, but never on his overall ability as one of the great writers of the times.
I would recommend “Chronicle in Stone”, “The Three-Arched Bridge”, “Broken April”, “The Palace of Dreams”, “General of the Dead Army”, “Three Elegies for Kosovo”, and “Girl in Exile” as the best, though there are several other excellent novels as well. This book and “Doruntine” are perhaps some of his lesser works. I wonder if he will ever get the Nobel he deserves. (I’ve been saying that for 20 years.)
April 7, 2017
Just as they say that new heavenly bodies are fashioned from old cosmic dust, so the new world of Albania was to be formed from the dust of the old Ottoman universe, from that constellation of terrors and crimes, postprandial poisonings, night-time assassinations, monks holding lanterns in the rain, dervishes with knives and messages hidden in their hair, from that profusion of rebellious pashas, bureaux with thousands of files, informers, outlawed viziers and ‘black’ pashas with a price on their heads who swarmed like ghosts before or after their death – all the rotting debris of empire.
Book 8 of 13 for me from the Man Booker International longlist 2017.
Ismail Kadare’s Kamarja e turpit was published in 1978 but has only recently been translated into English, as The Traitor’s Niche, by John Hodgson, who has previously translated The Accident, The Fall of the Stone City, A Girl in Exile and The Three-Arched Bridge. The book reads very well in Hodgson’s translation which, unlike those done by some other Kadare translators (e.g. David Bellos and Barbara Bray) was taken from the Albanian original rather than a retranslation from the French. Hodgson has some interesting comments on Kadare’s language and how it has evolved in this interview https://www.penguin.co.uk/articles/on....
This book is set in the 1820s in the Ottoman Empire. The Traitor’s Niche of the title refers to a place in a public square in Istanbul (referred to throughout as the Centre) where the severed heads of disgraced viziers and rebel pashas are preserved and put on display to the public.
The remote province of Albania – known locally as Shqipëria a kind of convocation of eagles, with blood-stained feathers, that falls from the air, swooping through the storms - is in revolt, led by Ali Pasha Tepelena (now known as “Black Ali”). And as the book opens the head on display is that of the vizier Bugrahan Pasha, who failed in his attempt to supress Ali Pasha’s rebellion and was decapitated as punishment. The more senior Hurshid Pasha has now been sent to accomplish what Bugrahan couldn’t, but on the same pain of failure: “The niche now waited again, indifferently, for either Black Ali or the glorious Hurshid, the sultan’s favourite”.
The story, although narrated in the 3rd person, is told from the perspective of a number of different characters in the Centre and Albania; Abdulla, the then current Keeper of the Traitor's Niche; Hurshid Pasha; Tundra Hata, the Royal Messenger, responsible for delivering death sentences out from the Centre and then transporting back taking the severed heads, which he calls cabbages (the blade of destiny had harvested its crop, and there it was on the table, this white cabbage from the gardens of hell).; the rebellious Albanian ruler Ali Tepelena and his young wife Vasiliqia; and members of the Caw-caw unit (see below).
The tales of the severed heads take up much of the novel, particularly the early parts, and the narration is rife with black humour. Tundra Hata makes money on the side by showing off the heads to isolated villagers on his journey, the separation of head from body is twice used to illustrate husbands unable to perform their conjugal duties (Abdulla has so far been unable to consummate his new marriage, and Vasiliqia reflects that she had few physical encounters with her 80 year-old husband), and Tundra Hata and Abdulla both wrestle with the practical difficulties of preserving heads, particularly when the system is policed by a Kafkesque bureaucracy:
They tried to find some pretext to accuse the doctor and the keeper of not complying with the Regulations for the Care of Heads, and asked devious questions about the unnaturally yellow tinge of the vizier’s face and the lack of eye colour. Abdulla had been struck speechless, but the doctor courageously defended himself, and said that the vizier’s complexion, even in life, had been sallow, as is typical of men with rebellion and treason in their blood. As for the lack of colour in the eyes (which had in fact obviously begun to decompose), the doctor quoted the old saying that the eyes are a window to the soul: it would be useless to look for colour in the eyes of a man who had never had a soul. The doctor’s explanations were hardly convincing, not to say vacuous, but for this very reason they were hard to argue with. The inspectors were obliged to withdraw their remarks and the matter concluded with a mere reprimand and a warning of dismissal for Abdulla.
The book’s events are based on real history – Hurshid Pasha (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurshid...) and Black Ali really existed (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ali_Pas...) - although Kadare has altered facts to suit his purpose. The novel formed part of a linked trilogy of novels starting with the 1978 Ura me tri harqe (The Three-arched Bridge) (1978) and ending in 1981 with Pallati i ëndrrave (The Palace of Dreams), all written under the censorship of the Stalinist Enver Hoxha regime. The Independent explains how “by setting about Albanian nationalism at the heart of a state bureaucracy, Kadare was able to promote national pride while condemning political dictatorship”, although The Palace of Dreams proved a novel too far, being banned in Albania and ultimately leading to Kadare’s political exile in Paris in 1990.
And to me the most striking part of the book wasn’t the severed heads, but Kadare’s concept of the Caw-caw unit, part of the Ottoman bureaucracy and secret police (alongside the Palace of Dreams and the Department of Psst-Psst, who sweep up rumours and muttered asides):
The partial or full erasure of the national identity of peoples, which was the main task of the Central Archive, was carried out according to the old secret doctrine of Caw-caw and passed through five principal stages: first, the physical crushing of rebellion; second, the extirpation of any idea of rebellion; third, the destruction of culture, art and tradition; fourth, the eradication or impoverishment of the language; and fifth, the extinction or enfeeblement of the national memory.
Neil's review discusses this topic in more detail and says everything I would want to say https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
Kadare won the inaugural Man Booker International Prize in 2005 it its previous incarnation recognising an author’s work rather than individual novels, and his books have also been previously twice shortlisted for the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize, so it seems fitting that this belatedly translated work features on the 2017 Man Booker International which merges the two previous prizes.
Overall - a powerful and fascinating story, my favourite of the 4 Kadare novels I have read to date, and while not for me one for overall MBI victory, this may well feature on my personal shortlist.
Book 8 of 13 for me from the Man Booker International longlist 2017.
Ismail Kadare’s Kamarja e turpit was published in 1978 but has only recently been translated into English, as The Traitor’s Niche, by John Hodgson, who has previously translated The Accident, The Fall of the Stone City, A Girl in Exile and The Three-Arched Bridge. The book reads very well in Hodgson’s translation which, unlike those done by some other Kadare translators (e.g. David Bellos and Barbara Bray) was taken from the Albanian original rather than a retranslation from the French. Hodgson has some interesting comments on Kadare’s language and how it has evolved in this interview https://www.penguin.co.uk/articles/on....
This book is set in the 1820s in the Ottoman Empire. The Traitor’s Niche of the title refers to a place in a public square in Istanbul (referred to throughout as the Centre) where the severed heads of disgraced viziers and rebel pashas are preserved and put on display to the public.
The remote province of Albania – known locally as Shqipëria a kind of convocation of eagles, with blood-stained feathers, that falls from the air, swooping through the storms - is in revolt, led by Ali Pasha Tepelena (now known as “Black Ali”). And as the book opens the head on display is that of the vizier Bugrahan Pasha, who failed in his attempt to supress Ali Pasha’s rebellion and was decapitated as punishment. The more senior Hurshid Pasha has now been sent to accomplish what Bugrahan couldn’t, but on the same pain of failure: “The niche now waited again, indifferently, for either Black Ali or the glorious Hurshid, the sultan’s favourite”.
The story, although narrated in the 3rd person, is told from the perspective of a number of different characters in the Centre and Albania; Abdulla, the then current Keeper of the Traitor's Niche; Hurshid Pasha; Tundra Hata, the Royal Messenger, responsible for delivering death sentences out from the Centre and then transporting back taking the severed heads, which he calls cabbages (the blade of destiny had harvested its crop, and there it was on the table, this white cabbage from the gardens of hell).; the rebellious Albanian ruler Ali Tepelena and his young wife Vasiliqia; and members of the Caw-caw unit (see below).
The tales of the severed heads take up much of the novel, particularly the early parts, and the narration is rife with black humour. Tundra Hata makes money on the side by showing off the heads to isolated villagers on his journey, the separation of head from body is twice used to illustrate husbands unable to perform their conjugal duties (Abdulla has so far been unable to consummate his new marriage, and Vasiliqia reflects that she had few physical encounters with her 80 year-old husband), and Tundra Hata and Abdulla both wrestle with the practical difficulties of preserving heads, particularly when the system is policed by a Kafkesque bureaucracy:
They tried to find some pretext to accuse the doctor and the keeper of not complying with the Regulations for the Care of Heads, and asked devious questions about the unnaturally yellow tinge of the vizier’s face and the lack of eye colour. Abdulla had been struck speechless, but the doctor courageously defended himself, and said that the vizier’s complexion, even in life, had been sallow, as is typical of men with rebellion and treason in their blood. As for the lack of colour in the eyes (which had in fact obviously begun to decompose), the doctor quoted the old saying that the eyes are a window to the soul: it would be useless to look for colour in the eyes of a man who had never had a soul. The doctor’s explanations were hardly convincing, not to say vacuous, but for this very reason they were hard to argue with. The inspectors were obliged to withdraw their remarks and the matter concluded with a mere reprimand and a warning of dismissal for Abdulla.
The book’s events are based on real history – Hurshid Pasha (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurshid...) and Black Ali really existed (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ali_Pas...) - although Kadare has altered facts to suit his purpose. The novel formed part of a linked trilogy of novels starting with the 1978 Ura me tri harqe (The Three-arched Bridge) (1978) and ending in 1981 with Pallati i ëndrrave (The Palace of Dreams), all written under the censorship of the Stalinist Enver Hoxha regime. The Independent explains how “by setting about Albanian nationalism at the heart of a state bureaucracy, Kadare was able to promote national pride while condemning political dictatorship”, although The Palace of Dreams proved a novel too far, being banned in Albania and ultimately leading to Kadare’s political exile in Paris in 1990.
And to me the most striking part of the book wasn’t the severed heads, but Kadare’s concept of the Caw-caw unit, part of the Ottoman bureaucracy and secret police (alongside the Palace of Dreams and the Department of Psst-Psst, who sweep up rumours and muttered asides):
The partial or full erasure of the national identity of peoples, which was the main task of the Central Archive, was carried out according to the old secret doctrine of Caw-caw and passed through five principal stages: first, the physical crushing of rebellion; second, the extirpation of any idea of rebellion; third, the destruction of culture, art and tradition; fourth, the eradication or impoverishment of the language; and fifth, the extinction or enfeeblement of the national memory.
Neil's review discusses this topic in more detail and says everything I would want to say https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
Kadare won the inaugural Man Booker International Prize in 2005 it its previous incarnation recognising an author’s work rather than individual novels, and his books have also been previously twice shortlisted for the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize, so it seems fitting that this belatedly translated work features on the 2017 Man Booker International which merges the two previous prizes.
Overall - a powerful and fascinating story, my favourite of the 4 Kadare novels I have read to date, and while not for me one for overall MBI victory, this may well feature on my personal shortlist.
May 16, 2017
Fascinating, mesmerizing surreal novel that held my interest every page. The author has returned to the main theme of most of his oeuvre: struggles of his native Albania against an oppressive power. This time the novel is set in the post-Napoleonic years and those of Greece for her independence--1820s. In this case the novel is an allegory with the Ottoman Empire representing the brutal Albanian dictatorship of Enver Hoxha. It is the story of several men and their fates: Abdulla, the Keeper of the Heads--Dulla was a nickname of Enver Hoxha--; the three Pashas who have run afoul of the government in some way and have been beheaded: Ali, by rebelling; Bugrahan, by losing battles to Ali; Hurshid, who wins the war, but becomes too popular for his own good; and Hata, the courier who delivers each head to the sultan after exhibiting it to villagers along the way. The author describes "Caw-Caw", the complete obliteration of an entire people's culture, customs, and language and of "Psst-Psst", the secret police investigating rumors. All in all, a chilling indictment of tyranny. 4.5/5.
Highly recommended and just as current today as when it was first written, in 1984.
Highly recommended and just as current today as when it was first written, in 1984.
July 1, 2017
It's not often that the main characters in a novel consist of three heads.
In this Kadare novel, he gives us early 1800s and yet another attempt of forming an independent Albanian nation. The first Ottoman Vizier sent to put the Albanians in their place fails to do so and loses his head. The second Vizier wins and sends his Albanian foe's head back to Constantinople. But he becomes too popular and so his death is ordered but he is forewarned and commits suicide. Nonetheless his body is found, beheaded and head sent back to the set of power.
Kadare explores the bureaucratic Ottoman Empire and it's deadly punishments for anyone who goes against it. He also explores why Albania finds itself a vassal of the more powerful. His books are great examples of how historical fiction can be so powerful.
In this Kadare novel, he gives us early 1800s and yet another attempt of forming an independent Albanian nation. The first Ottoman Vizier sent to put the Albanians in their place fails to do so and loses his head. The second Vizier wins and sends his Albanian foe's head back to Constantinople. But he becomes too popular and so his death is ordered but he is forewarned and commits suicide. Nonetheless his body is found, beheaded and head sent back to the set of power.
Kadare explores the bureaucratic Ottoman Empire and it's deadly punishments for anyone who goes against it. He also explores why Albania finds itself a vassal of the more powerful. His books are great examples of how historical fiction can be so powerful.
April 4, 2017
A story of two men and three heads. Plus a few other things.
One man looks after the heads after they have been put on display in the titular Traitor's Niche. The other man collects the heads from wherever they were recently attached to their bodies and brings them to the city to be displayed.
One head is of a man who failed in his mission. One is of a man who rebelled against authority. One is of a man who succeeded in his mission but then became too popular for the liking of those in power.
We follow the story of the two men as they deal with the three heads. And the story allows the author to discuss tyrants and nationhood and (national) memory.
This book is almost 40 years old but has only recently bean translated into English. It is one of three interlinked stories that the author wrote, the others being The Three-Arched Bridge and The Palace of Dreams. For some reason, this one has had to wait a long time before being translated whereas the other two have been available for some time. This is a shame because this is a masterful tale that does not feel dated. I guess the topic of oppressive tyrants and suppression of truth will never be irrelevant.
There is a recurring theme about the suppression of truth and history by government
It was previously thought that states had so many memorials and monuments in order that nothing should be forgotten. But it was discovered later that a major state had as much need to forget as to remember, if not more. The memories of events and statesmen paled as the years passed. Dust covered them, mud stained them, until they were finally erased as if they had never been. But recently people had come to understand that forgetting was more difficult and complicated than remembering. It was forbidden, for example, to mention the name of Scanderbeg in books or the press, but there was no such ruling regarding the two sultans’ campaigns against him in Albania. Nobody dared say that poems and chronicles could no longer mention the sovereigns’ battles. But at the same time, nobody could advise how to answer bothersome questions: who had the great emperors set off to fight against, and what had they done when they arrived? The Central Archive could perform many miracles, as it had done with the Balkans, but it was beyond its skill to hide these looming questions that emerged through the fog like mountaintops and seemed to glint above the entire world.
And:
Despite the Central Archive’s strenuous efforts to erase these nobles from the face of the earth, their names remained scattered throughout the terrain of Albania. These reckless, impetuous, stubborn people were transformed into valleys, crags, plains, copses and waterfalls. The lands of Balshikia, Karlilija, Shpati, the streams of Skuria, Myzeqeja, the Plain of Dukagjin, Mount Scanderbeg. After so many centuries, they still loomed among the mists in motionless stone, immured, untouched by the perpetual fever of struggles for power, of quarrels and spite.
It is clear that the role of the Central Archive is to manage information, but that this is a more difficult task than that Archive might think. The state wants to forget. The people refuse to forget.
I had no idea what this book would be like as I began to read it. I really liked it and have added the two related books to my to-read list.
One man looks after the heads after they have been put on display in the titular Traitor's Niche. The other man collects the heads from wherever they were recently attached to their bodies and brings them to the city to be displayed.
One head is of a man who failed in his mission. One is of a man who rebelled against authority. One is of a man who succeeded in his mission but then became too popular for the liking of those in power.
We follow the story of the two men as they deal with the three heads. And the story allows the author to discuss tyrants and nationhood and (national) memory.
This book is almost 40 years old but has only recently bean translated into English. It is one of three interlinked stories that the author wrote, the others being The Three-Arched Bridge and The Palace of Dreams. For some reason, this one has had to wait a long time before being translated whereas the other two have been available for some time. This is a shame because this is a masterful tale that does not feel dated. I guess the topic of oppressive tyrants and suppression of truth will never be irrelevant.
There is a recurring theme about the suppression of truth and history by government
It was previously thought that states had so many memorials and monuments in order that nothing should be forgotten. But it was discovered later that a major state had as much need to forget as to remember, if not more. The memories of events and statesmen paled as the years passed. Dust covered them, mud stained them, until they were finally erased as if they had never been. But recently people had come to understand that forgetting was more difficult and complicated than remembering. It was forbidden, for example, to mention the name of Scanderbeg in books or the press, but there was no such ruling regarding the two sultans’ campaigns against him in Albania. Nobody dared say that poems and chronicles could no longer mention the sovereigns’ battles. But at the same time, nobody could advise how to answer bothersome questions: who had the great emperors set off to fight against, and what had they done when they arrived? The Central Archive could perform many miracles, as it had done with the Balkans, but it was beyond its skill to hide these looming questions that emerged through the fog like mountaintops and seemed to glint above the entire world.
And:
Despite the Central Archive’s strenuous efforts to erase these nobles from the face of the earth, their names remained scattered throughout the terrain of Albania. These reckless, impetuous, stubborn people were transformed into valleys, crags, plains, copses and waterfalls. The lands of Balshikia, Karlilija, Shpati, the streams of Skuria, Myzeqeja, the Plain of Dukagjin, Mount Scanderbeg. After so many centuries, they still loomed among the mists in motionless stone, immured, untouched by the perpetual fever of struggles for power, of quarrels and spite.
It is clear that the role of the Central Archive is to manage information, but that this is a more difficult task than that Archive might think. The state wants to forget. The people refuse to forget.
I had no idea what this book would be like as I began to read it. I really liked it and have added the two related books to my to-read list.
Read
November 15, 2018There might be something worse than talking politics at Thanksgiving dinner. If anyone asks me what I’m reading ( what else would they ask me?) I’ll have to say I just finished a book about a series of severed heads displayed in the main square of Istanbul in the 1820s (this book) and I’m in the middle of a book about an abusive antisocial nutcase and his gruesomely slaughtered sheep (Laxness’s Independent People. They might set up a separate table for me; they certainly won’t let me sit at the kids table.
What this is really about, however, is how states wield power over their minions and over subject peoples who dare to rebel. In the first case it uses fear of said decapitation or similar fate, in the second cultural destruction. Kadare describes a chilling methodology for wiping all sense of collective identity from a people, from language to customs to dress to any sense of life or beauty. His Albania is under constant threat.
I liked the style of moving from one point of view to the next. Some characters small and humble, some grandiose, some cagy, but all living in constant anxiety. And I liked the unfinished sense of the ending; as in real life we are left with questions about the fate of some characters. And we never see the person at the center of the fear machine, if there is in fact a person in the driver’s seat of a monolithic organization focused on preservation of the status quo at all costs.
What this is really about, however, is how states wield power over their minions and over subject peoples who dare to rebel. In the first case it uses fear of said decapitation or similar fate, in the second cultural destruction. Kadare describes a chilling methodology for wiping all sense of collective identity from a people, from language to customs to dress to any sense of life or beauty. His Albania is under constant threat.
I liked the style of moving from one point of view to the next. Some characters small and humble, some grandiose, some cagy, but all living in constant anxiety. And I liked the unfinished sense of the ending; as in real life we are left with questions about the fate of some characters. And we never see the person at the center of the fear machine, if there is in fact a person in the driver’s seat of a monolithic organization focused on preservation of the status quo at all costs.
March 3, 2016
Nu ratez nicio apariție nouă a lui Kadare și încerc să scotocesc prin anticariate după cărțile mai vechi, care își așteaptă reeditarea.
Ce este Firida Rușinii? Un loc dintr-o piață centrală a Istanbulului, unde sunt puse capetele tăiate ale dușmanilor sau pașelelor învinse, pentru ca privitorii să se îngrozească și să ia aminte.
Un roman care te îndepărtează doar un pic de Albania, pentru a pătrunde în starea de fapt a Imperiului Otoman, a temerilor și acțiunilor diverșilor funcționari ai statului otoman, cu referire atentă și detaliată în privința efectelor acestora asupra statelor vasale. Momâi, firmane, trădători, deznaționalizare, oameni fără limbă.
Un roman foarte bun, în buna tradiție a lui Kadare.
Ce este Firida Rușinii? Un loc dintr-o piață centrală a Istanbulului, unde sunt puse capetele tăiate ale dușmanilor sau pașelelor învinse, pentru ca privitorii să se îngrozească și să ia aminte.
Un roman care te îndepărtează doar un pic de Albania, pentru a pătrunde în starea de fapt a Imperiului Otoman, a temerilor și acțiunilor diverșilor funcționari ai statului otoman, cu referire atentă și detaliată în privința efectelor acestora asupra statelor vasale. Momâi, firmane, trădători, deznaționalizare, oameni fără limbă.
Un roman foarte bun, în buna tradiție a lui Kadare.
March 31, 2017
Ismail Kadare is a significant figure in European and literary fiction to the extent that he was tipped to receive the Nobel prize. His biography according to the various on line sites I have looked at reflect a divergence of opinions where he is viewed as a writer of courage who exposed the repression of totalitarian regimes particularly that of his home country Albania and Enver Hoxha , but in contrast some see his remaining in Albania during the regime as suggestive of complicity. The biography however suggests he was subject to a cat and mouse style control by the state before he eventually escaped to Paris in the early 80's and certainly my reading of this novel was that it was by the use of analogy a clear and explicit satire/criticism of the control of the state and the writing which highlights the plight of the individual against a contrary state was reminiscent of Orwell and Kafka.
The plot centres around The traitors niche, a spot in the city walls of the Ottoman Empire's capital where the heads of the Sultans enemies or traitors are displayed. It is the 1820's when the Ottoman empire rules over Albania but the history of Albania is one of rebellion and uprising and as the book opens an Albanian war lord Ali Telepan (Black Ali) is sought as the next occupant of the traitors niche.
The book then focusses on various characters in the story. These include Abdullah the caretaker of the niche ( a man under extreme pressure to keep the heads safe and fresh), Tudj Hala the courier of heads (he keeps them in a bag and is back and forth in a carriage exhibiting heads to peasants for money), Back ali himself and his wife's account of his life, a cultural recorder of customs, and the general who has to capture Ali and then find his treasure.
All the stories are well told so the narrative flowed and I enjoyed the story . The analogies to Stalinist repression are very obvious from the cultural destruction of historic language and custom to the removal of generals who in one breath are heroes yet on a whim of the state become villains. The book was also darkly playful in the way of Kafka's The trial as it proves impossible for the individual to meet the impossible demands of the ruler. I also enjoyed the well drawn characters particularly Abdullah as his anxiety increases and Tudj hala.
I've read one previous Kadare book Broken April which was a brilliant picture of Albanian folklore and culture and this book written in the 1970's and only recently translated has only encouraged me to read more of his work.
The plot centres around The traitors niche, a spot in the city walls of the Ottoman Empire's capital where the heads of the Sultans enemies or traitors are displayed. It is the 1820's when the Ottoman empire rules over Albania but the history of Albania is one of rebellion and uprising and as the book opens an Albanian war lord Ali Telepan (Black Ali) is sought as the next occupant of the traitors niche.
The book then focusses on various characters in the story. These include Abdullah the caretaker of the niche ( a man under extreme pressure to keep the heads safe and fresh), Tudj Hala the courier of heads (he keeps them in a bag and is back and forth in a carriage exhibiting heads to peasants for money), Back ali himself and his wife's account of his life, a cultural recorder of customs, and the general who has to capture Ali and then find his treasure.
All the stories are well told so the narrative flowed and I enjoyed the story . The analogies to Stalinist repression are very obvious from the cultural destruction of historic language and custom to the removal of generals who in one breath are heroes yet on a whim of the state become villains. The book was also darkly playful in the way of Kafka's The trial as it proves impossible for the individual to meet the impossible demands of the ruler. I also enjoyed the well drawn characters particularly Abdullah as his anxiety increases and Tudj hala.
I've read one previous Kadare book Broken April which was a brilliant picture of Albanian folklore and culture and this book written in the 1970's and only recently translated has only encouraged me to read more of his work.
January 13, 2018
Cu mult curaj, despre totalitarismul de toate felurile, scrisă în plin regim represiv si opresiv comunist:
”Deznaționalizarea parțială sau completă a popoarelor, care era sarcina principală a Arhivei Centrale, se făcea după vechea doctrină secretă ”Kra-kra” și parcurgea cinci etape principale: prima, stingerea concretă a răzmeriței; a doua, eliminarea ideii de revoltă; a treia, distrugerea culturii, artei și tradițiilor; a patra, stingerea și mutilarea limbii; și a cincea, stingerea sau reducerea memoriei naționale.
Cea mai scurtă dintre acestea era înăbușirea revoltei, care consta doar în operațiuni militare; în vreme ce faza cea mai complicată era stingerea limbii, adică Nelimba, cum i se mai spunea.”
Sună cunoscut, nu-i așa?
”Deznaționalizarea parțială sau completă a popoarelor, care era sarcina principală a Arhivei Centrale, se făcea după vechea doctrină secretă ”Kra-kra” și parcurgea cinci etape principale: prima, stingerea concretă a răzmeriței; a doua, eliminarea ideii de revoltă; a treia, distrugerea culturii, artei și tradițiilor; a patra, stingerea și mutilarea limbii; și a cincea, stingerea sau reducerea memoriei naționale.
Cea mai scurtă dintre acestea era înăbușirea revoltei, care consta doar în operațiuni militare; în vreme ce faza cea mai complicată era stingerea limbii, adică Nelimba, cum i se mai spunea.”
Sună cunoscut, nu-i așa?
Read
July 11, 2016Romanul Firida rușinii a fost scris de Ismail Kadare în anul 1976, în plină represiune a dictaturii comuniste. Deși acțiunea cărții este plasată în anul 1822, timpul scrierii și timpul narat au în comun teroarea, diferite fiind doar formele pe care aceasta le îmbracă.
Încă din primele două pagini ale cărții, titlul i se dezvăluie citorului în toată monstruozitatea omenească ascunsă aici: firida rușinii este o scobitură într-un zid secular din Istanbul, o „piatră de luare aminte”, în care se așază capetele celor care s-au dovedit nesupuși sultanului, celor care au îndrăznit să aibă pretenții de independență sau capetele celor care n-au fost în stare să-i învingă pe răzvrătiți.
Împărăția osmană este superstatul (se întindea pe trei continente și număra douăzeci și nouă de popoare, șase religii, patru rase și patruzeci de limbi) în centrul căruia se oferă consecvent spectacolul capetelor tăiate. Albania este unul dintre ținuturile nesupunerii, de patru sute de ani făcea parte din imperiu, iar Ali Tepelena, conducătorul ei, este cel care renunță la masca nesupunerii și pornește războiul, povestea acestuia constituind firul narativ central al romanului.
Dar nu el este cel mai provocator personaj al romanului. Primul care îl uimește pe cititor prin dimensiunile și forma dezumanizării inconștiente este Abdulla, paznicul firidei. El trebuie să verifice starea capetelor, de două ori pe zi iarna și de patru ori pe zi vara. Capetele sunt fixate în miere, dar există situații în care s��ngele nu se încheagă imediat și e nevoie să fie picurate în miere și alte substanțe, căci e neplăcut să păzești capete care șiroiesc de sânge. Această „familiaritate” cu capetele tăiate îl însoțește pe cititor de-a lungul întregului roman, stările încercate de acesta fiind dintre cele mai diverse, căci Kadare reușește prin stilul său să imprime chiar și o dimensiune comică grozăviilor istorice.
(Continuarea cronicii: http://www.bookaholic.ro/o-lume-masur...)
Încă din primele două pagini ale cărții, titlul i se dezvăluie citorului în toată monstruozitatea omenească ascunsă aici: firida rușinii este o scobitură într-un zid secular din Istanbul, o „piatră de luare aminte”, în care se așază capetele celor care s-au dovedit nesupuși sultanului, celor care au îndrăznit să aibă pretenții de independență sau capetele celor care n-au fost în stare să-i învingă pe răzvrătiți.
Împărăția osmană este superstatul (se întindea pe trei continente și număra douăzeci și nouă de popoare, șase religii, patru rase și patruzeci de limbi) în centrul căruia se oferă consecvent spectacolul capetelor tăiate. Albania este unul dintre ținuturile nesupunerii, de patru sute de ani făcea parte din imperiu, iar Ali Tepelena, conducătorul ei, este cel care renunță la masca nesupunerii și pornește războiul, povestea acestuia constituind firul narativ central al romanului.
Dar nu el este cel mai provocator personaj al romanului. Primul care îl uimește pe cititor prin dimensiunile și forma dezumanizării inconștiente este Abdulla, paznicul firidei. El trebuie să verifice starea capetelor, de două ori pe zi iarna și de patru ori pe zi vara. Capetele sunt fixate în miere, dar există situații în care s��ngele nu se încheagă imediat și e nevoie să fie picurate în miere și alte substanțe, căci e neplăcut să păzești capete care șiroiesc de sânge. Această „familiaritate” cu capetele tăiate îl însoțește pe cititor de-a lungul întregului roman, stările încercate de acesta fiind dintre cele mai diverse, căci Kadare reușește prin stilul său să imprime chiar și o dimensiune comică grozăviilor istorice.
(Continuarea cronicii: http://www.bookaholic.ro/o-lume-masur...)
May 22, 2017
Killings, beheadings, torture and fear have been around us forever. The difference now is facebook and TV... and the deception that we are kinder than we used to be in the past... nice little story from Kadare.
October 16, 2017
Dark, surreal, deconstructive.
Kadare at his best.
Kadare at his best.
August 15, 2018
This is a very different sort of historical novel about the Ottoman Empire in the 19th century, and more specifically, Albania, the author’s homeland.
There is humour amongst the gory darkness of severed heads, akin at times to Python’s Holy Grail, and one gets the feeling that Kadare must have enjoyed writing it a lot.
There is humour amongst the gory darkness of severed heads, akin at times to Python’s Holy Grail, and one gets the feeling that Kadare must have enjoyed writing it a lot.
October 27, 2023
I have read many of Kadare's books (in translation), and enjoyed all of them. It was with great excitement that I began reading this book. I read it from beginning to end, but sadly it did not satisfy me despite the subject matter being of an intriguing nature.
February 19, 2022
Onlangs herlas ik met veel plezier "De generaal van het dode leger", het debuut van de ooit zeer geroemde Albanese schrijver Ismail Kadare. Dat smaakte naar meer, dus herlas ik ook "De nis der schande", een van Kadares highlights. En dat vond ik nog aardig wat sterker dan Kadares debuut.
"De nis der schande" speelt ongeveer in 1822, in het Osmaanse rijk van toen. Wat dan wel een door Kadares fantasie vervormd Osmaans rijk is, dat in Kadares meesterlijke schrijfhanden uitgroeit tot een symbolische uitvergroting van dictatoriale macht en repressie. Toen Kadare dit boek schreef was zijn vaderland Albanië nog een communistische dictatuur, en de Osmaanse taferelen zou je dus kunnen zien als een vermomd verhaal over Albanese repressieve toestanden. Maar tegelijk is de symbolische kracht van "De nis der schande" zo sterk dat ik het boel liever lees als een hyperbolische verbeelding van dictatoriale macht in zijn algemeenheid. Of zelfs van de irrationele hel als de verborgen bodem van de dictatoriale macht. Dit gefantaseerde Osmaanse rijk kent bijvoorbeeld een "Paleis der Fluisteringen" dat zelfs de zachtste fluisteringen van zijn onderdanen opvangt, en een "Paleis der dromen" dat alle dromen vangt en analyseert. Heel fantastisch, opvallend surrealistisch, en precies daardoor zo angstwekkend en ongrijpbaar: heel pregnante symbolen dus voor hoe een dictatuur werkt. En iets soortgelijks geldt voor de 'nis der schande": een nis op een plein in Constantinopel, waar regelmatig afgehakte hoofden worden tentoongesteld van overwonnen vijanden of van in ongenade gevallen hoogwaardigheidsbekleders. Een dergelijke nis met steeds ververste afgehakte hoofden is op zich al een overduidelijk symbool van dictatoriale repressie, ook als een dergelijke nis echt bestaan mocht hebben (wat ik niet weet). En de groteske aanblik van die hoofden, alsook de zo fantasievol beschreven angsten en associaties die deze afgehakte hoofden oproepen, versterken die symbolische kracht nog aanzienlijk.
Heel fraai beschrijft Kadare bovendien hoe een Turkse pasja, die door verraderlijke list erin slaagt de opstandige Albanese leider Ali pasja (bijgenaamd "Zwarte Ali") te verslaan, door totale angst overweldigd wordt bij de aanblik van Ali pasja's afgehakte hoofd. Die angst is dan deels ingegeven door het besef dat hem net zo goed ditzelfde lot had kunnen treffen, en dat ook zijn eigen hoofd maar heel losjes op de schouders zit in dit Osmaanse rijk. Maar volgens mij heeft die angst zelfs nog sterker te maken met de meer algemene angst voor de dood, en met het onbedwingbare gevoel dat dit afgehakte hoofd - en deze brute moord en de verminking van de grootheid Ali pasja- de ontheiliging is van een fundamenteel taboe. De daarmee gepaarde angst wordt beschreven als "een algemeen angstgevoel, stom als de fundamenten van de aarde": veel fundamenteler en ongrijpbaarder dus dan bijvoorbeeld de concretere angst of vrees voor de soldatendood op het slagveld. Dit is voor mijn gevoel een bijna mythische angst, een soort gestemdheid die zich niet op iets concreets richt, die ook niet rationeel te verklaren valt, maar die eerder lijkt te horen bij de irrationele sferen die aan onze rationaliteit vooraf gaan. Dus bij de pre- logische wereld van de mythen. Een pre- logische wereld die ook terugkomt in, bijvoorbeeld, beschrijvingen van "een met stof gevulde leegte als van vóór de schepping". Of in diverse meeslepende passages over leegte, niets, ondoordringbaar duister, woestenij die doet denken aan de oorspronkelijke chaos van de nog niet door menselijke of Goddelijke hand geordende wereld.
Veel van Kadares zinnen zinderen dus van mythische, pre- logische geladenheid. En daardoor krijgt de Osmaanse dictatuur in "De nis der schande" naar mijn idee het karakter van een pre-logisch, en dus onbevattelijk fenomeen. Want door die mythische geladenheid worden we meegevoerd in een wereld die voorafgaat aan de ratio en onze wetten, en die zelfs nog redelozer is dan de - nog enigszins rationele- dictaturen die wij kennen. In zijn mooie nawoord bij "De generaal van het dode leger" beschreef Piet de Moor Kadares grondthema van "de als dictatuur vermomde hel waaruit de mens zich sinds de vroegste tijden krachtens het recht probeert te ontworstelen. Want in het wereldbeeld van [Kadare] is de hel een voor iedereen zo ondraaglijke plaats, dat het concept van het recht er onvermijdelijk uit moest worden geboren". Volgens De Moor gaan Kadares boeken dus niet alleen over repressieve dictatuur, maar ook en vooral over de hel van de oeroude wereld die voorafgaat aan onze vertrouwde wereld die geordend wordt met logica en wetten. Die oeroude, pre- logische wereld maakt Kadare dan volgens mij voelbaar door de taal en beeldspraak te hanteren van de pre- logische mythen. En daardoor gaan zijn boeken niet alleen over dictaturen, maar vooral over de pre-logische hel die de bodem is van veel dictaturen. Denk ik. Vermoed ik. Terecht of ten onrechte.
Die mythische en pre-logische geladenheid is in "De nis der schande" in elk geval manifest. Hij is vooral opmerkelijk groot in het hoofdstuk waarin een groteske koerier, met het uiterlijk van een spook en met een met henna beschilderde baard, honderden en honderden mijlen door immense leegtes rijdt om het hoofd van Ali pasja naar Constantinopel te brengen. Die koerier en zijn immense rit door de barre natuur doen in alles denken aan een mythische ballade. Bovendien zindert elke pagina van dat hoofdstuk werkelijk van leegte, angst, duisternis, bezetenheid en irrationele extase. Een voorbeeld: "Ondertussen joeg het rijtuig van de keizerlijke koerier Tundj Hata door het diepst van de nacht. Rondom heersten slechts de duisternis en het niets. Hemel, heuvels en hoogvlakten waren gestorven en hadden plaats gemaakt voor een vormeloze leegheid. In het duister gloorde nu en dan een zwak licht, een verloren schijnsel dat over de chaos van de wereld dwaalde. [...] Tundj Hata voelde hoe duisternis en niets langzaam, als een warm bad, zijn geest verlosten van alle banden met de wereld, haar eeuwige bekommernissen en beslommeringen en administratieve omhaal. Hij voelde hoe hij in de vertrouwde roes raakte, in de extase waarin dit soort missies hem bijna altijd bracht. Te midden van de overal heersende dood voelde hij zich vrij. De bedwelming kwam in golven, sloeg van binnen tegen zijn borst, vulde zijn uitgezette longen met luchtbellen en deed zijn aders zwellen. In vliegende vaart joeg het rijtuig voort. Buiten, achter de vensters, wierp de nacht van alle kanten haar blikken op hem. Tundj Hata slaakte een kreet". En deze passages worden nog gevolgd door diverse hallucinant-bizarre scènes waarin Tundj Hata onderweg stopt, om voorstellingen te geven met dat afgehakte en steeds grotesker ogende hoofd....
"De nis der schande" sleepte mij kortom helemaal mee in pre- logische en vaak groteske sferen. En dus in sferen vol irrationele angst die je kunt associëren met repressie en dictatuur, en vooral met de verborgen hel op de bodem van dat alles. Tegelijk verbeeldt Kadare ook heel mooi hoe dictatuur hele volken kan beroven van hun eigenheid, hun herinnering, hun taal, hun identiteit. En dus van hun balladen, verhalen en gedichten. Maar nog mooier verbeeldt hij hoe enkele van hun identiteit beroofde figuren, door de vervaagde herinnering aan Tundj Hata en zijn groteske voorstellingen, weer gaan worstelen met de taal en ook met zichzelf. En die worsteling bevat dan weer de onvermoede kiemen van een gedicht, of misschien zelfs een ballade..... Mede daarom vermoed ik, terecht of ten onrechte, dat de hoofdstukken over Tundj Hata niet alleen de irrationele sferen oproepen die eigen zijn aan repressie en dictatuur, maar ook gelezen kunnen worden als balladen over de raadselen van de schepping, het leven en de dood. Of misschien zelfs als precies de soort fantasievolle legendes die door de Osmaanse dictatuur zo veel mogelijk worden versmoord. Dat zijn bovendien legendes waarin de ontembaarheid van de Albanese cultuur en natuur vrij baan krijgt, terwijl de Osmaanse heersers juist alle Albanese ontembaarheid willen knechten en vernietigen. En dat alles maakt de extases van Tundj Hata, en zijn bizarre tochten van honderden mijlen met steeds een ander afgehakt hoofd in zijn koets, voor mij nog extra fascinerend.
Zou die laatste interpretatie te fantasievol zijn? Misschien. Maar "De nis der schande" zoog mij helemaal op, en dat lag vooral aan de mythische kracht van Kadares proza. Terwijl ik ook behoorlijk genoot van zijn vele fantasievolle beelden en beschrijvingen, van de pakkende manier waarop hij diverse personages portretteert en hun vaak onbewuste angsten en vertwijfeling voelbaar maakt, van zijn even symbolische als fraaie natuurbeschrijvingen, van de passages waarin hele hordes ambtenaren bezig zijn met hun aan de repressie dienstbare bureaucratische taken zonder te begrijpen wat ze doen, van de opstandigheid die sluimert in het diepst van de ziel van een ongelukkige en eenvoudige man, van de tussen euforie en vertwijfeling heen en weer zwenkende machtigen der aarde die naar grootsheid streven en tegelijk panisch van angst zijn voor hun nakende val in de diepte...... Enzovoort, enzoverder. Ik begrijp kortom weer helemaal waarom ik Kadares boeken 30 jaar geleden verslond. En ze smaken nu, 30 jaar na dato, weer erg naar meer.
"De nis der schande" speelt ongeveer in 1822, in het Osmaanse rijk van toen. Wat dan wel een door Kadares fantasie vervormd Osmaans rijk is, dat in Kadares meesterlijke schrijfhanden uitgroeit tot een symbolische uitvergroting van dictatoriale macht en repressie. Toen Kadare dit boek schreef was zijn vaderland Albanië nog een communistische dictatuur, en de Osmaanse taferelen zou je dus kunnen zien als een vermomd verhaal over Albanese repressieve toestanden. Maar tegelijk is de symbolische kracht van "De nis der schande" zo sterk dat ik het boel liever lees als een hyperbolische verbeelding van dictatoriale macht in zijn algemeenheid. Of zelfs van de irrationele hel als de verborgen bodem van de dictatoriale macht. Dit gefantaseerde Osmaanse rijk kent bijvoorbeeld een "Paleis der Fluisteringen" dat zelfs de zachtste fluisteringen van zijn onderdanen opvangt, en een "Paleis der dromen" dat alle dromen vangt en analyseert. Heel fantastisch, opvallend surrealistisch, en precies daardoor zo angstwekkend en ongrijpbaar: heel pregnante symbolen dus voor hoe een dictatuur werkt. En iets soortgelijks geldt voor de 'nis der schande": een nis op een plein in Constantinopel, waar regelmatig afgehakte hoofden worden tentoongesteld van overwonnen vijanden of van in ongenade gevallen hoogwaardigheidsbekleders. Een dergelijke nis met steeds ververste afgehakte hoofden is op zich al een overduidelijk symbool van dictatoriale repressie, ook als een dergelijke nis echt bestaan mocht hebben (wat ik niet weet). En de groteske aanblik van die hoofden, alsook de zo fantasievol beschreven angsten en associaties die deze afgehakte hoofden oproepen, versterken die symbolische kracht nog aanzienlijk.
Heel fraai beschrijft Kadare bovendien hoe een Turkse pasja, die door verraderlijke list erin slaagt de opstandige Albanese leider Ali pasja (bijgenaamd "Zwarte Ali") te verslaan, door totale angst overweldigd wordt bij de aanblik van Ali pasja's afgehakte hoofd. Die angst is dan deels ingegeven door het besef dat hem net zo goed ditzelfde lot had kunnen treffen, en dat ook zijn eigen hoofd maar heel losjes op de schouders zit in dit Osmaanse rijk. Maar volgens mij heeft die angst zelfs nog sterker te maken met de meer algemene angst voor de dood, en met het onbedwingbare gevoel dat dit afgehakte hoofd - en deze brute moord en de verminking van de grootheid Ali pasja- de ontheiliging is van een fundamenteel taboe. De daarmee gepaarde angst wordt beschreven als "een algemeen angstgevoel, stom als de fundamenten van de aarde": veel fundamenteler en ongrijpbaarder dus dan bijvoorbeeld de concretere angst of vrees voor de soldatendood op het slagveld. Dit is voor mijn gevoel een bijna mythische angst, een soort gestemdheid die zich niet op iets concreets richt, die ook niet rationeel te verklaren valt, maar die eerder lijkt te horen bij de irrationele sferen die aan onze rationaliteit vooraf gaan. Dus bij de pre- logische wereld van de mythen. Een pre- logische wereld die ook terugkomt in, bijvoorbeeld, beschrijvingen van "een met stof gevulde leegte als van vóór de schepping". Of in diverse meeslepende passages over leegte, niets, ondoordringbaar duister, woestenij die doet denken aan de oorspronkelijke chaos van de nog niet door menselijke of Goddelijke hand geordende wereld.
Veel van Kadares zinnen zinderen dus van mythische, pre- logische geladenheid. En daardoor krijgt de Osmaanse dictatuur in "De nis der schande" naar mijn idee het karakter van een pre-logisch, en dus onbevattelijk fenomeen. Want door die mythische geladenheid worden we meegevoerd in een wereld die voorafgaat aan de ratio en onze wetten, en die zelfs nog redelozer is dan de - nog enigszins rationele- dictaturen die wij kennen. In zijn mooie nawoord bij "De generaal van het dode leger" beschreef Piet de Moor Kadares grondthema van "de als dictatuur vermomde hel waaruit de mens zich sinds de vroegste tijden krachtens het recht probeert te ontworstelen. Want in het wereldbeeld van [Kadare] is de hel een voor iedereen zo ondraaglijke plaats, dat het concept van het recht er onvermijdelijk uit moest worden geboren". Volgens De Moor gaan Kadares boeken dus niet alleen over repressieve dictatuur, maar ook en vooral over de hel van de oeroude wereld die voorafgaat aan onze vertrouwde wereld die geordend wordt met logica en wetten. Die oeroude, pre- logische wereld maakt Kadare dan volgens mij voelbaar door de taal en beeldspraak te hanteren van de pre- logische mythen. En daardoor gaan zijn boeken niet alleen over dictaturen, maar vooral over de pre-logische hel die de bodem is van veel dictaturen. Denk ik. Vermoed ik. Terecht of ten onrechte.
Die mythische en pre-logische geladenheid is in "De nis der schande" in elk geval manifest. Hij is vooral opmerkelijk groot in het hoofdstuk waarin een groteske koerier, met het uiterlijk van een spook en met een met henna beschilderde baard, honderden en honderden mijlen door immense leegtes rijdt om het hoofd van Ali pasja naar Constantinopel te brengen. Die koerier en zijn immense rit door de barre natuur doen in alles denken aan een mythische ballade. Bovendien zindert elke pagina van dat hoofdstuk werkelijk van leegte, angst, duisternis, bezetenheid en irrationele extase. Een voorbeeld: "Ondertussen joeg het rijtuig van de keizerlijke koerier Tundj Hata door het diepst van de nacht. Rondom heersten slechts de duisternis en het niets. Hemel, heuvels en hoogvlakten waren gestorven en hadden plaats gemaakt voor een vormeloze leegheid. In het duister gloorde nu en dan een zwak licht, een verloren schijnsel dat over de chaos van de wereld dwaalde. [...] Tundj Hata voelde hoe duisternis en niets langzaam, als een warm bad, zijn geest verlosten van alle banden met de wereld, haar eeuwige bekommernissen en beslommeringen en administratieve omhaal. Hij voelde hoe hij in de vertrouwde roes raakte, in de extase waarin dit soort missies hem bijna altijd bracht. Te midden van de overal heersende dood voelde hij zich vrij. De bedwelming kwam in golven, sloeg van binnen tegen zijn borst, vulde zijn uitgezette longen met luchtbellen en deed zijn aders zwellen. In vliegende vaart joeg het rijtuig voort. Buiten, achter de vensters, wierp de nacht van alle kanten haar blikken op hem. Tundj Hata slaakte een kreet". En deze passages worden nog gevolgd door diverse hallucinant-bizarre scènes waarin Tundj Hata onderweg stopt, om voorstellingen te geven met dat afgehakte en steeds grotesker ogende hoofd....
"De nis der schande" sleepte mij kortom helemaal mee in pre- logische en vaak groteske sferen. En dus in sferen vol irrationele angst die je kunt associëren met repressie en dictatuur, en vooral met de verborgen hel op de bodem van dat alles. Tegelijk verbeeldt Kadare ook heel mooi hoe dictatuur hele volken kan beroven van hun eigenheid, hun herinnering, hun taal, hun identiteit. En dus van hun balladen, verhalen en gedichten. Maar nog mooier verbeeldt hij hoe enkele van hun identiteit beroofde figuren, door de vervaagde herinnering aan Tundj Hata en zijn groteske voorstellingen, weer gaan worstelen met de taal en ook met zichzelf. En die worsteling bevat dan weer de onvermoede kiemen van een gedicht, of misschien zelfs een ballade..... Mede daarom vermoed ik, terecht of ten onrechte, dat de hoofdstukken over Tundj Hata niet alleen de irrationele sferen oproepen die eigen zijn aan repressie en dictatuur, maar ook gelezen kunnen worden als balladen over de raadselen van de schepping, het leven en de dood. Of misschien zelfs als precies de soort fantasievolle legendes die door de Osmaanse dictatuur zo veel mogelijk worden versmoord. Dat zijn bovendien legendes waarin de ontembaarheid van de Albanese cultuur en natuur vrij baan krijgt, terwijl de Osmaanse heersers juist alle Albanese ontembaarheid willen knechten en vernietigen. En dat alles maakt de extases van Tundj Hata, en zijn bizarre tochten van honderden mijlen met steeds een ander afgehakt hoofd in zijn koets, voor mij nog extra fascinerend.
Zou die laatste interpretatie te fantasievol zijn? Misschien. Maar "De nis der schande" zoog mij helemaal op, en dat lag vooral aan de mythische kracht van Kadares proza. Terwijl ik ook behoorlijk genoot van zijn vele fantasievolle beelden en beschrijvingen, van de pakkende manier waarop hij diverse personages portretteert en hun vaak onbewuste angsten en vertwijfeling voelbaar maakt, van zijn even symbolische als fraaie natuurbeschrijvingen, van de passages waarin hele hordes ambtenaren bezig zijn met hun aan de repressie dienstbare bureaucratische taken zonder te begrijpen wat ze doen, van de opstandigheid die sluimert in het diepst van de ziel van een ongelukkige en eenvoudige man, van de tussen euforie en vertwijfeling heen en weer zwenkende machtigen der aarde die naar grootsheid streven en tegelijk panisch van angst zijn voor hun nakende val in de diepte...... Enzovoort, enzoverder. Ik begrijp kortom weer helemaal waarom ik Kadares boeken 30 jaar geleden verslond. En ze smaken nu, 30 jaar na dato, weer erg naar meer.
April 13, 2020
This is my first book I've read written by Ismael Kadare. And I really liked it!!
4* The Traitor's Niche
TR The Successor
TR The General of the Dead Army
TR Agamemnon's Daughter: A Novella and Stories
TR Chronicle in Stone
TR Broken April
TR The Fall of the Stone City
4* The Traitor's Niche
TR The Successor
TR The General of the Dead Army
TR Agamemnon's Daughter: A Novella and Stories
TR Chronicle in Stone
TR Broken April
TR The Fall of the Stone City
August 3, 2019
While The Palace of Dreams is Kadare criticizing the Albanian dictator Enver Hoxha by way of Kafka, The Traitor’s Niche is Kadare criticizing the same subject by way of Orwell. This is an interesting book, to be sure, and Kadare is always enjoyable to me, but I think its similarities to his other works made me like it less than I would have otherwise.
Written in 1978 but only translated to English recently, The Traitor’s Niche is one of Kadare’s books where he uses a light coating of history to disguise his criticism of Hoxha. Here the setting is the Ottoman Empire, where the absolute power of the Sultan inspires fear in his enemies and allies alike. Officials within the empire fear doing a job too poorly, or too well, as either can result in decapitation, the severed head of the offender displayed in the titular Traitor’s Niche. In the fields, the Sultan’s armies crush any that revolt. In the empire’s archives, specialized scholars study and implement ways to kill, not just a rebellious country’s people, but also its culture, and its very language, ensuring that it can never rise up against the empire again.
The book focuses on an official tasked with caring for the heads placed in the Traitor’s Niche, an official in charge of retrieving and transporting severed heads, and (more briefly) an official in the archives specializing in destroying a country’s wedding ceremonies. It’s this last character and his occupation that most evokes the Orwell comparison I made earlier. These characters are given some depth, but they aren’t paragons of complexity, though this isn’t a significant flaw.
Kadare often structures his work around an evocative piece of history (even if not overly concerned with historical accuracy). The piece of history that serves as the basis for The Traitor’s Niche is Ali Pasha of Ioannina’s failed rebellion against the Ottoman Empire from his seat of power in the Albanian territory. Like Kadare’s The Siege, The Pyramid, and even the non-fiction work Twilight of the Eastern Gods, The Traitor’s Niche is about Albania despite it not being the explicit focus. It is the portrait of Kadare’s country painted through negative space, the unpainted pieces coming together to form a picture of a subjugated country just waiting to rebel. Kadare thus masks his criticism of Hoxha’s dictatorship with history to avoid censorship and personal danger, without blunting the sting of his critique.
If you’ve read much Kadare before this one will be familiar to you. It explicitly references some of Kadare’s other books, and shares some similar themes (though I note that the theme of sexual fetishes and dysfunction, touched upon in other works, is made far more central here). Like in his other works, Kadare’s prose is readable, with standout pieces sprinkled in like the following:
Structurally, the book dividing focus between multiple characters actually worked in its favor by giving a more in-depth view of the empire. However, one criticism I had is that the book peters out in an unmemorable way, while many of Kadare’s other books have stronger endings.
If this had been one of the first books by Kadare I read I expect I would have enjoyed it more. However, it shares many similarities with other Kadare books, so as to make it feel familiar instead of new. The closest parallel to The Traitor’s Niche is Kadare’s book The Palace of Dreams (written later but published in English earlier), which overall I thought was better than The Traitor’s Niche, but I admit that’s probably largely because I read The Palace of Dreams first. Kadare’s The Siege also has significant subject matter similarities. I’d say this is upper-mid-tier Kadare, not as good as Broken April, The Palace of Dreams, The General of the Dead Army, or The File on H. but at about the same level as Chronicle in Stone, and better than The Siege, The Successor, The Fall of the Stone City, The Ghost Rider, The Three-Arched Bridge, Twilight of the Eastern Gods, and The Pyramid. I give it a 3.5/5, rounding down.
Written in 1978 but only translated to English recently, The Traitor’s Niche is one of Kadare’s books where he uses a light coating of history to disguise his criticism of Hoxha. Here the setting is the Ottoman Empire, where the absolute power of the Sultan inspires fear in his enemies and allies alike. Officials within the empire fear doing a job too poorly, or too well, as either can result in decapitation, the severed head of the offender displayed in the titular Traitor’s Niche. In the fields, the Sultan’s armies crush any that revolt. In the empire’s archives, specialized scholars study and implement ways to kill, not just a rebellious country’s people, but also its culture, and its very language, ensuring that it can never rise up against the empire again.
The book focuses on an official tasked with caring for the heads placed in the Traitor’s Niche, an official in charge of retrieving and transporting severed heads, and (more briefly) an official in the archives specializing in destroying a country’s wedding ceremonies. It’s this last character and his occupation that most evokes the Orwell comparison I made earlier. These characters are given some depth, but they aren’t paragons of complexity, though this isn’t a significant flaw.
Kadare often structures his work around an evocative piece of history (even if not overly concerned with historical accuracy). The piece of history that serves as the basis for The Traitor’s Niche is Ali Pasha of Ioannina’s failed rebellion against the Ottoman Empire from his seat of power in the Albanian territory. Like Kadare’s The Siege, The Pyramid, and even the non-fiction work Twilight of the Eastern Gods, The Traitor’s Niche is about Albania despite it not being the explicit focus. It is the portrait of Kadare’s country painted through negative space, the unpainted pieces coming together to form a picture of a subjugated country just waiting to rebel. Kadare thus masks his criticism of Hoxha’s dictatorship with history to avoid censorship and personal danger, without blunting the sting of his critique.
If you’ve read much Kadare before this one will be familiar to you. It explicitly references some of Kadare’s other books, and shares some similar themes (though I note that the theme of sexual fetishes and dysfunction, touched upon in other works, is made far more central here). Like in his other works, Kadare’s prose is readable, with standout pieces sprinkled in like the following:
The February wind whistled in a thousand languages across the plain darkened by winter and war. It is February in all the infinite lands of the empire, he groaned to himself. Why should he think there might be a fragment of March somewhere, or even a scrap of April? A little March for the empire’s chosen sons, he thought. But it was February for everyone.
Structurally, the book dividing focus between multiple characters actually worked in its favor by giving a more in-depth view of the empire. However, one criticism I had is that the book peters out in an unmemorable way, while many of Kadare’s other books have stronger endings.
If this had been one of the first books by Kadare I read I expect I would have enjoyed it more. However, it shares many similarities with other Kadare books, so as to make it feel familiar instead of new. The closest parallel to The Traitor’s Niche is Kadare’s book The Palace of Dreams (written later but published in English earlier), which overall I thought was better than The Traitor’s Niche, but I admit that’s probably largely because I read The Palace of Dreams first. Kadare’s The Siege also has significant subject matter similarities. I’d say this is upper-mid-tier Kadare, not as good as Broken April, The Palace of Dreams, The General of the Dead Army, or The File on H. but at about the same level as Chronicle in Stone, and better than The Siege, The Successor, The Fall of the Stone City, The Ghost Rider, The Three-Arched Bridge, Twilight of the Eastern Gods, and The Pyramid. I give it a 3.5/5, rounding down.
October 12, 2021
High on a wall in a courtyard in Istanbul is a niche. It is reserved for the severed heads of traitors to the Ottoman Empire.
Rebels, generals or provincial Governors who have displeased the sultan are displayed here pour decourager les autres. Life in an autocracy hangs on the whim of the autocrat, particularly for those fortunate and unfortunate to be close to the nexus of absolute power.
So in swift succession we see heads displayed in the courtyard belonging to the general who failed to suppress a revolt in Albania, the rebellious Albanian Governor and the general that ended the Albanian revolt.
We also meet the courier who brings the heads to the capital and the keepers of the niche in the square. Each has a specialised role in the Empire.
A bit vague and experimental in places, whilst intruiged by the machinations of the Empire parts did not hold my attention. Interesting but not an essential read. I would like to read other books by this author though.
Rebels, generals or provincial Governors who have displeased the sultan are displayed here pour decourager les autres. Life in an autocracy hangs on the whim of the autocrat, particularly for those fortunate and unfortunate to be close to the nexus of absolute power.
So in swift succession we see heads displayed in the courtyard belonging to the general who failed to suppress a revolt in Albania, the rebellious Albanian Governor and the general that ended the Albanian revolt.
We also meet the courier who brings the heads to the capital and the keepers of the niche in the square. Each has a specialised role in the Empire.
A bit vague and experimental in places, whilst intruiged by the machinations of the Empire parts did not hold my attention. Interesting but not an essential read. I would like to read other books by this author though.
June 7, 2017
Ismail Kadare (b.1936) is one of my favourite authors: he writes stories about the use and abuse of power in allegorical form, setting his stories in an indefinite past so that they have a timeless significance. The Traitor’s Niche is an early work from his Ottoman Cycle: first published in 1978, it was Kadare’s eleventh novel but it has taken 40 years for it to be published in English. Kadare is a prolific author and it is taking the Anglosphere a while to catch up with his oeuvre since he won the inaugural Man Booker International in 2005, when The Siege (see my review on my blog) and other novels were hastily translated from French editions into English in order to get them into bookshops.
The Traitor’s Niche has been widely reviewed, not least by the members of the MBIF Shadow Jury (see their combined reviews from here on this blog) but it didn’t make it into either their shortlist or the official one. But I was always going to read this novel, whether it won any plaudits or not… Kadare is a master storyteller and I am fascinated by the history of Albania as he tells it…
The Traitor’s Niche is set in Constantinople (now Istanbul) when it was the capital of the Ottoman Empire. This is where power resides, power that is enforced through brutal repression and grotesque propaganda. The sultan displays the severed heads of any who dare to betray him in a special niche in the city square, and there is a whole apparatus of flunkies whose job it is to manage the display of heads for the entertainment and edification of the people.
Far, far away, so remote from the sultan’s decrees that most of them can be ignored, is Albania, powerless against the Empire but a place given to rash attempts to free itself. In his dotage, Ali Pasha Tepelena a.k.a.Black Ali Pasha, dreams of achieving glory like his legendary predecessor Scanderbeg who had a quarter-century of rebellion behind him but died an ordinary death in his bed. There is no prospect of him succeeding, but it’s not about that. Black Ali wants to leave a legacy and a symbol that will inspire others. So, will he cheat the sultan of his vicious vengeance?
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2017/06/07/t...
The Traitor’s Niche has been widely reviewed, not least by the members of the MBIF Shadow Jury (see their combined reviews from here on this blog) but it didn’t make it into either their shortlist or the official one. But I was always going to read this novel, whether it won any plaudits or not… Kadare is a master storyteller and I am fascinated by the history of Albania as he tells it…
The Traitor’s Niche is set in Constantinople (now Istanbul) when it was the capital of the Ottoman Empire. This is where power resides, power that is enforced through brutal repression and grotesque propaganda. The sultan displays the severed heads of any who dare to betray him in a special niche in the city square, and there is a whole apparatus of flunkies whose job it is to manage the display of heads for the entertainment and edification of the people.
Far, far away, so remote from the sultan’s decrees that most of them can be ignored, is Albania, powerless against the Empire but a place given to rash attempts to free itself. In his dotage, Ali Pasha Tepelena a.k.a.Black Ali Pasha, dreams of achieving glory like his legendary predecessor Scanderbeg who had a quarter-century of rebellion behind him but died an ordinary death in his bed. There is no prospect of him succeeding, but it’s not about that. Black Ali wants to leave a legacy and a symbol that will inspire others. So, will he cheat the sultan of his vicious vengeance?
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2017/06/07/t...
June 19, 2017
This is my first Ismail Kadare novel. I was really looking forward to reading this book, but I had a hard time getting into it. The storytelling style is magical realism. For me, it seemed a little dry, too much telling and not enough descriptive detail to keep my interest.
This story is taking place in the Ottoman Empire (which includes modern day Turkey, Albania, Greece, the Balkan Peninsula, and other countries) in the early 19th century during the Napoleanic wars, as Napolean is mentioned to have visited a Pasha in the story. Each section of the book is a separate but connected story. They're separate in that they are told through the perspective of often a different character each time. The main protagonist is Tundj Hata, the Sultan's courier, or transporter, of the heads. He is accompanied by Tartars, who I read as the executioners and muscle of the operation, and is tasked with collecting the heads of government officials in the Empire to transport back to the Capital, Constantinople, for display in the main square's Traitor's Niche, a collection of the Sultan's enemies' heads. The Sultan's enemies are threats to the Empire, including Pashas who campaign for the independence of Albania and others who have become complacent and sloppy in their business. Their heads are put on display to inspire fear and submission in the people who come in droves to gawk at the heads in the main square. The Keeper of the Heads in the main square, Abdulla, must guard and maintain the freshness of the heads by scheduling regular doctor visits to inspect and treat the heads. Abdulla becomes jealous of the attention the heads receive, becoming mad with envy. Tundj Hata decides to make extra money for himself along his transport routes, as he learns that people will pay high prices to see dismembered heads. He also talks to the heads. Once a Pasha of an area is beheaded, a separate group goes in to expunge any language and culture that is not aligned with the Ottoman Empire. Very surreal story but I'm sure based on facts.
This story is taking place in the Ottoman Empire (which includes modern day Turkey, Albania, Greece, the Balkan Peninsula, and other countries) in the early 19th century during the Napoleanic wars, as Napolean is mentioned to have visited a Pasha in the story. Each section of the book is a separate but connected story. They're separate in that they are told through the perspective of often a different character each time. The main protagonist is Tundj Hata, the Sultan's courier, or transporter, of the heads. He is accompanied by Tartars, who I read as the executioners and muscle of the operation, and is tasked with collecting the heads of government officials in the Empire to transport back to the Capital, Constantinople, for display in the main square's Traitor's Niche, a collection of the Sultan's enemies' heads. The Sultan's enemies are threats to the Empire, including Pashas who campaign for the independence of Albania and others who have become complacent and sloppy in their business. Their heads are put on display to inspire fear and submission in the people who come in droves to gawk at the heads in the main square. The Keeper of the Heads in the main square, Abdulla, must guard and maintain the freshness of the heads by scheduling regular doctor visits to inspect and treat the heads. Abdulla becomes jealous of the attention the heads receive, becoming mad with envy. Tundj Hata decides to make extra money for himself along his transport routes, as he learns that people will pay high prices to see dismembered heads. He also talks to the heads. Once a Pasha of an area is beheaded, a separate group goes in to expunge any language and culture that is not aligned with the Ottoman Empire. Very surreal story but I'm sure based on facts.
September 6, 2011
Me encantó este libro. Varias partes me dieron un sentimiento doloroso sobre las regiones que describía. Sobretodo cuando habla de cómo se lograban eliminar las costumbres y la lengua de un determinado pueblo. La ley del cra-cra. Si, es doloroso. Sin embargo todo al rededor fluye de una manera extraña, como si en algún punto existiera un atisbo de esperanza, de conocimiento, de salvación. Al final, terminé enardecida, con un sentimiento que no sentía hace mucho, como identificada de una manera triste, pero exaltada. No tengo idea de cómo describir el sentimiento que me causó al final leer los pequeños restos en la memoria de la hermosísima palabra Shqipëria. Simplemente, no sé como describirlo. Lo único que me da miedo es que, si algunos me han dicho que no es su mejor libro (de Kadaré) no me imagino lo que me van a causar los que son mejores.
November 20, 2018
Atât, atât de plictisitoare! Ironic, în roman apar câteva capete tăiate ale trădătorilor și nu numai, dar la fel de bine putea fi vorba despre niște lămpi pe care le țineau călăii în mână, pentru că mie nu mi-au inspirat nimic. Am apreciat ideea cărții, dar sunt tare bucuroasă că am terminat-o și am scăpat de scriitură. Adio, Kadare!
,,Evenimente, oameni de stat, nume și date se pierdeau an după an, erau acoperite de praf și hulite, până ce dispăreau complet, ca și când nici n-ar fi existat.''
,,Evenimente, oameni de stat, nume și date se pierdeau an după an, erau acoperite de praf și hulite, până ce dispăreau complet, ca și când nici n-ar fi existat.''
January 27, 2012
Una novela de Kadaré que no gusta mucho a sus fans, o que no les parece tan buena como otras. Como fue el primer libro que de él leí quedé sorprendido y la disfruté mucho. Tal vez es porque es exclusivamente histórica-mágica, sin ese toque de realismo de sus otras novelas, pero a mi, admirador de Salman Rushdie, me vino de perlas. Tal vez es la estructura, o la falta clara de un protagonista hasta la mitad de la novela. No lo sé. Es impresionante lo que este hombre cuenta en tan pocas paginas.
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