il paradiso di beatrice

Stella Aciman ile Söyleşi

2010-02-11T11:37:00.004+01:00

Azınlık edebiyatının çağdaş ismi Stella Aciman: "Kıbrıs bana ilham verdi."

fotoğraf © Hande Göksan

İlk kitabı ‘Bella’ ile sansasyonel bir başarı yakalayan Stella Aciman, üç yıldır Lefkoşa’da sessiz ve sakin bir hayat sürüyor. Son kitabı ‘Bir Masaldı Geçen Yıllar’ı Kıbrıs’ta yazan Aciman, üç nesil kadının Türkiye’nin değişen değerleriyle şekillenen yaşamlarını anlatıyor...

Üç senedir Kıbrıs’ta yaşıyorsunuz. Sizi Kıbrıs’a getiren ne oldu?
Bundan üç sene önce annemi kaybettim. Hastalığı ve vefatı öyle ani gelişti ki, her şey bittikten sonra kendimi çok ortada hissettim. Bir anda İstanbul’dan soğudum. Zaten son zamanlarda bu kentten bir uzaklaşma ve kaçma isteğim vardı. Ama açıkçası Kıbrıs aklımda hiç yoktu. O sıralar sıklıkla konuştuğum, BRT’de haber müdürü olan bir arkadaşım vardı. Onun ısrarlı daveti üzerine soluğu Kıbrıs’ta aldım. Bir anda vuruldum. Bir adada olmak, gerektiğinde hem şehrin göbeğinde hem de kısa sürede sakin bir doğanın ortasında olabilmek çok hoşuma gitti. O sakinlik, sessizlik beni büyüledi. Kısacası, benim için gidiş o gidiş oldu. Burada yaşayabileceğimi hissettim. Kitaplarımı yazmam için de ideal bir yer olduğunu düşündüm. Ve kaldım...

KIBRIS’IN ZENGİNLİKLERİ

Peki doğup büyüdüğünüz İstanbul’u hiç özlemediniz mi?
Çok mecbur kalmadıkça İstanbul’u görmek dahi istemiyorum. Sadece İstanbul’da yaşayan arkadaşlarımı özlüyorum. Ama İstanbul’a gelmektense arkadaşlarımı Kıbrıs’a davet etmekten ve orada ağırlamaktan daha çok hoşlanıyorum. Özellikle gelip adayı görsünler istiyorum, çünkü insanların kafasında yanlış bir imaj var. Kıbrıs denince akla ilk gelen kumarhaneler oluyor. Halbuki orada yaşanacak öyle güzel anlar ve görülecek öyle güzel yerler var ki... Denizse denizin alası... Yemekse, özgün bir mutfak kültürü... Arkadaşlarım gelip adayı gördükten sonra akıllarındaki o kumarhane cenneti imajı da siliniyor. Kıbrıs’ın üzerine yapışmış bu imajdan kurtulması ve diğer turistik zenginliklerini keşfetmesi gerek.
Son kitabınız ‘Bir Masaldı Geçen Yıllar’ı Kıbrıs’ta tamamladınız. Kıbrıs size nasıl bir ilham verdi? Bağrında koruduğu kültür çeşitliliği ile elbette... İstanbul da beni bu açıdan çok doyurmuştu. Zaten kitabın devamı niteliğindeki gelecek kitabım, Kıbrıs’a da uzanacak. Ardından Kıbrıs üzerine bir çalışma yapmayı da planlıyorum. Şu an onun altyapıları üzerine çalışıyorum. Ama ben farklı bir Kıbrıs yazmak istiyorum.

Devam kitabı, yine ‘azınlık edebiyatı’ kapsamına girecek nitelikte bir eser mi olacak?
Evet. ‘Bir Masaldı Geçen Yıllar’, Türkiye’de 1926 ve 1960 yılları arasında üç nesil Yahudi kadınının yaşamından kesitler sunuyor. Kitabın devamı, Kıbrıs’la ilgili bir bölüm de içerecek. 1964’te Türkiye’deki Rumların sınır dışı edilmesi ve Kıbrıs’ta gelişen olaylar ilintili olduğu için, konuyu iki taraflı ele almayı planlıyorum. Dolayısıyla Kıbrıs da öykünün içinde bir şekilde yer alacak.

AYRIMCILIK ÇOK TEHLİKELİ

Buradan ‘azınlık edebiyatı’na girecek olursak, sizin bu edebiyat içinde durduğunuz yer, anlatmak istediğiniz nedir?
Öykünün anlatmak istediği, azınlıkların Türkiye’de o günden bu güne geçirdikleri değişim; neredeydiler ve nerelere geldiler... Nedense ‘azınlık’ kelimesi ve bu kelimenin çağrışımları, son yıllarda sorgulanır ve tartışılır oldu. Ben Yahudi’yim ve ‘Neden Yahudi’yim’ diye 50 yaşından sonra düşünmeye başladım. Halbuki bizim geçmişimizde böyle bir şey yok. Yani Türk, Rum, Ermeni, Yahudi iç içe yaşadık. Kimse bize ‘sen o sun, sen busun’ diye bir ayrımcılık yapmadı.

Sizce bu sorgulama ‘çokkültürlülük’ anlayışıyla birlikte mi başladı? Artık insanlar kimliklerini ve ait oldukları kültürü sorguluyor. Bu da, ötekileşmelerini ve ötekileştirilmelerini pekiştiriyor olabilir mi? Azınlık edebiyatının yükselişe geçmesi de bu durumla mı ilişkili?
İnsanları milletleriyle, ırklarıyla, dinleriyle etiketlemek ve hepsini aynı potada değerlendirmeye kalkmak tavrını hiçbir zaman anlamadım. Çünkü hiçbir insana bu gözle bakmadım. Yahudi dediğin zaman bütün bir milleti, üzerlerine yapışmış olan ‘cimri’ ve ‘korkak’ gibi sıfatlarla değerlendirmek çok yanlış. Her milletin cimrisi de var korkağı da, iyisi de kötüsü de. Ama nedense hep dinden dolayı insanları etiketlemeye bayılıyoruz. Son derece yanlış ve çok da saçma. Ayrıca çok da tehlikeli...

GEÇMİŞİMİZLE HEŞAPLAŞMALIYIZ

Sizce azınlık edebiyatının bu tehlikeleri önlemek ve bu tehlikeleri görünür kılmak gibi bir tasası olmalı mı?
Tabii ki... Çünkü Türkiye’de hâlâ geçmişimizden korkuyoruz. Yaşadığımız birtakım olayları hâlâ yok saymaya kalkıyoruz. Örneğin, kitabımda da uzunca değindiğim 6-7 Eylül olayları. Sebepleri ne olursa olsun bu olaylar yaşandı; bunu inkâr edemeyiz. Ama tutup da bunun bir sergisi yapıldığı zaman 3-5 insan sergiyi basmaya kalkıyor. Bırakın konuşulsun ve halledilsin. Eğer insanlar bunun için birbirinden özür dileyecekse, dilesin. Ve artık kapansın. Meseleler konuşulmadıkça, geçmişle hesaplaşılmadıkça gelecekte bir yere varamayız. Onun azınlık edebiyatı olmalı, bunlar yazılmalı ve konuşulmalı; ki sonuçlansın.

Sizce ötekileştirilen eşcinsel kimlikler de azınlık edebiyatının kapsamına giriyor mu? Zira ilk kitabınız ‘Bella’da eşcinsel bir kadın karakteriniz var. Zaten Türkiye’de kadın eşcinselliğine dikkat çeken ilk yazarsınız. Kadın eşcinselliği, sizce, ideolojik bir duruş, bir tepki barındırıyor mu?
‘Bella’, bir kadının kocasıyla yaşadığı olaylardan sonra, sevgiyi kadınlarda bulmasının öyküsü. Benim o kitapta vurgulamak istediğim, insanları böyle kimliklendirmenin ve etiketlemenin doğru olmadığı. Şuna inanıyorum: Sevgi varsa ilişki normaldir. Aslında insanın en temel ihtiyacı sevmek, sevilmek ve anlaşılmak. Bunu eşcinsellikte de bulsa bir insan, onu engelleyemezsiniz.

Kitabınızdaki üç ana karakter de kadın ve kitap bir epikriz ile başlıyor...
Evet, sonun başlangıcı... Kitap ana karakterin ölümüyle başlar ve oradan geçmişe gider. Kitaptaki ana karakterler üç ayrı nesilden kadınlar. Yoanna, Brana ve Ester... Üç kişinin de öyküsü bir şekilde çakışır. Kitap, onların yaşamlarını anlatıyor. Yoanna’dan başlayıp Brana’ya ve oradan Ester’in yaşamına uzanan bir öykü. Bu sürede senelerce esen bir değişim rüzgârı ve çevrede gelişen olaylar...

Aynı aileden üç nesil mi?
Evet, Türkiye’de yaşamış aynı aileden üç nesil kadının hikayesi... Tabii bu hikaye etrafında Türkiye’de yaşanan, özellikle azınlıkların başından geçen birtakım olaylar ele alınıyor. Özellikle 6-7 Eylül olayları, Azınlık Vergisi... Bu üç kadın, Müslüman, Rum ve Ermeniler ile tek bir yaşamın içinde. Hep beraber büyüyorlar. Yaşamları iç içe geçmiş. Hiç din, dil, ırk ayrımı olmadan birbirine kenetlenmiş bir çevredeler. Sonrasında ise azınlıkların, ‘azınlık’ olarak etiketlenmelerini tetikleyen olaylar, bu anlayışın seneler içindeki seyri. Tabii bu değişim hissi ikinci kitapta hat safhaya ulaşacak. İkinci kitap, 1961 ve 2003 arasını anlatacak. Ana karakterin 2003 yılında ölmesiyle öykü son bulacak. Karakterin öyküsüne eşlik eden tarihsel süreç, aslında Türkiye’nin yakın tarihi.

Bu açıdan alternatif tarih yazınına girdiği de söylenebilir...
Bu bir anı roman. Tarih kitabı veya belgesel gibi algılanmasın. Kimseye tarih dersi vermek gibi bir niyetim yok. Ben edebiyatçıyım. İnsanların ‘canlı’ bir yaşamdan, bir karakterin yaşamöyküsünden tarihsel gerçeklikleri okumaları başka bir şey. Hem okuması kolay hem de daha anlaşılır, çünkü kendinizi özdeşleştirebiliyorsunuz. Örneğin kitapta Struma Gemisi olayı var. İkinci Dünya Savaşı sırasında Romanya’dan yola çıkan ve Yahudiler’i taşıyan gemi İstanbul’a gelir, ancak içindekileri Türkiye’nin kabul etmemesinden dolayı karaya çıkamazlar. Gemi Sarayburnu önünde uzun süre bekler. Hep bir karaya çıkma umudu vardır. Ancak bir Rus torpilinin çarpması sonucu gemi batar ve yaklaşık 700 Yahudi can verir. Sadece bir iki kişi kurtulur. Kitabı okuyanların ilk sorduğu sorulardan biri, bu olayın neden daha önce duyulmadığı ve gizli kaldığıdır. Genç neslin bunu bilmemesi doğal, ama bu soruyu soranlar arasında yaşıtlarım da vardı. Elbette bunu ilk yazan ben değilim. Birçok kitap ve belgeselde değinilmiştir. Ama demek ki gözden kaçmış veya yeterince anlatılmamış. Bunlar konuşulsa, tartışılsa ve çözülse, önümüze daha sağlıklı bakabileceğiz.

Stella Aciman kimdir?

Yahudi bir ailenin çocuğu olarak 1953 yılında İstanbul’da dünyaya geldi. Bir süre İstanbul Üniversitesi İşletme Bölümü’ne devam ettikten sonra ticarete atıldı. Pek çok kuruluşta işletme müdürü olarak görev aldı. Çeşitli radyo kanallarında müzik direktörlüğü ve program yardımcılığı yaptı. İlk kitabı ‘Bella’ 2002 yılında yayımlandı. ‘Kırlangıçların Ömrü’ isimli ikinci kitabı’nı 2003 yılında yayımlayan Aciman, 2003 yılından beri Kuzey Kıbrıs’ta yaşıyor.

****Caretta Dergisi'nde yayımlandı, 2006.

Jean Baudrillard did not die on March 6, 2007

2010-02-11T11:32:00.001+01:00

The acknowledged philosopher, who is famous for blurring the boundaries between reality and simulation, passed away. Yet for him, dying was pointless, one has to know how to disappear...

Following a long illness, French sociologist and leading postmodernist thinker Jean Baudrillard died at the age of 77. Once he wrote “Dying is pointless. You have to know how to disappear”. Did he disappear? Well, speaking his theory, his death might not have taken place...He once said “What I am I do not know. I am the simulacrum of myself”.

Here comes Baudrillard’s most renowned term “simulacrum”, meaning the virtuality of signs that are generated by culture and media that create the reality we perceive. Baudrillard posed that our perception is captured and accordingly shaped by the simulacra which creates a “simulation” of the real. This simulacra of the real surpasses the real world and thus becomes “hyperreal”, a world that is more real than real. It presupposes and precedes the real.

The Matrix of the matrix
If you are confused, think of the famous Matrix Trilogy of Wachowski Brothers: “Welcome to the desert of the real”. This quote, voiced by the rebel chief Morpheus (Laurence Fishburne) in the first episode is Baudrillard’s most famous formula. Believe it or not, Baudrillard was invited to collaborate in the sequels, but he declined. Later, he accused the film Matrix of misunderstanding his philosophy. He found the film too “Platonic” and said “The Matrix is surely the kind of film about the matrix that the matrix would have been able to produce”.

Baudrillard is famous for his “outraging” remarks that shocked the audiences and intellectual faculties alike giving him a “notorious” title or “philosophic clown” attributes.

He attracted attentions by predicting that the first Gulf War in 1991 would not take place. During the war he insisted that it was not taking place. And after the war concluded, he went on saying it did not actually take place.

What Baudrillard actually wanted to point out was that the war was conducted as a media spectacle, quite similar to a war game, or a simulation. Considering under his terms of simulacra and simulation; during the war media replaced reality with simulation through reproducing the images of the real, which were selected and displayed according to a certain ideology. People around the world watched the images of war with the same attitude that they watch an advertisement on telly. They just watched the war on TV and went to bed afterwards. Thus, the war did not take place in the realm of the real.

Baudrillard later on went on discussing that there was no need for the media to virtualise events, as in Gulf War, since the war’s participants had thoroughly internalised the rules of simulation. That means, we are all captives in the hyperreality...

Baudrillard uses a famous tale by Borges to crystallise the term “hyperreal”: A great Empire created a map that was so detailed it was as large as the Empire itself. The actual map grew and decayed as the Empire conquered or lost lands. When the Empire collapsed, all that was left was the map itself. In Baudrillard's rendition, it is the map that we are living in, the simulation of reality, and it is reality that is decomposing due to disuse.

Well, a sparkling genius in this desert of the real, Baudrillard tried to travel beyond the hyperreal to “see what happens beyond”, as he put it in his words. It remains a mystery whether he achieved or not. Jean Baudrillard, born on July 29, 1929, died on March 6, 2007.

***Published in Caretta, 2007

Interview with Alexander Markov

2010-02-11T10:39:00.004+01:00

Worldwide-renowned violin virtuoso Alexander Markov’s peaceful days in Cyprus

One of the best violin virtuosi Alexander Markov left a mark on Cyprus audiences with two amazing performances in the scope of the 4th International North Cyprus Music Festival. Markov says, he considers Cyprus visits as pleasant trips instead of professional ones...

You have been to Cyprus several times before. How do you feel in Cyprus?
Cyprus is a very peaceful island, indeed. I am also very happy about the annual music festival that promotes the kind of musical activities this country longs for. I am happy to contribute on my behalf as an artist to these cultural activities in Cyprus.

You have been to this part of the world several times...

Yes. Cyprus is a wonderful place to relax and take a deep breath to slow down. However, this time we had a different kind of excitement and a fast rhythm due to a very special event to me. This year, we performed the rock concerto, and a few days later was my recital comprising a strict classical repertory. These required hard work; but it was a sweet rush because I was very pleased and excited that the festival was open to new ideas instead of adopting a strict attitude. The director of the festival, Halil Kalgay
has put his heart to not only continue but also to develop the festival and thus he is open to different musical styles. I am very impressed of the hard work he has put in the organisation of the festival over the years. If it were not for him, surely all these wonderful activities would not be happening on this island. Kalgay is a praiseworthy person doing an extremely difficult job.

THE MUSICAL SENSE OF BELLAPAIS
You participated in this annual music festival consecutively throughout the years. Can you compare the first years of the festival and the point it stands today?
I can say the festival has developed a lot and I am sure will be developing more in the forthcoming years.

What are your impressions of the audience in Cyprus?

I think it is a very enthusiastic audience. They are open-minded people. I like to be here with these people. That’s why I come back every year.

How does it feel like performing at the Bellapais Abbey? Does the historical atmosphere have an effect on you?
First of all, Bellapais Abbey is a beautiful place, very romantic. The reverberation is so perfect for solo instrum
ents or maybe a chamber orchestra only composed of a few instruments. Apart from its historical importance and beauty, the musical sense of the abbey is extraordinary and gives me delight while playing solo violin.

Among the places you have been to give concerts, which places can you list as your favourites?
Well honestly, I really love Turkey and North Cyprus. The people are very friendly, they like coming to the concerts. They are very enthusiastic and open-minded, which is very important. I, myself, learned a lot from the audiences in Turkey and North Cyprus. Everything is so natural here. Accordingly, you feel relaxed as an artist.

VIOLIN VS. ROCK?

You give importance to listening to the performances of young musicians. Did you meet any talents in Cyprus?
Unfortunately, not this year. But last year we had a master class with EMU students. Students in this part of the world are enthusiastic musicians. They are very hungry for some new ideas and opportunities. I believe, in order to develop and take ambition in something, one should be hungry for something. If everything is given, then
there will be nothing to explore or seek. In the west, there are a lot of good teachers, but in this part of the world, it is different. I am very glad to offer these people the ideas or opportunities they seek for.

Together with hundreds of people, we watched your amazing rock concerto performance the previous night. Can you please first give us some information about it?

When we moved to America, I fell in love with two things; the rock’n’roll and girls. I loved rock’n’roll so much that I did not just want to listen to it but I wanted to become a part of it. I wanted to do something special. Eventually I approached my musical partner, James Remington, and he designed the marvelous electric violin with 6 strings for me. If I am a violinist, why not developing the violin, I thought. And we adapted it to the rock’n’roll music. It is the only one of its kind in the world and we had a patent on this. Then the idea came to combine my classical experience with rock’n’roll. In this aspect, the rock concerto is about my life. It is partially classical, and partially hard rock or heavy metal. Then, I met with some extraordinary musicians from New York; Gregg Gerson the drummer, Ivan Bodley, the bassist.

What was your objective in composing a rock concerto? Does it claim a message?

I wanted to do something special to attract the younger audience to the world of classical music; something ultimately different that would create an effect, shake and awake the audience. Musically, the rock concerto has a revolutionary aspect. When playing classical music, you have to follow the traditions of hundreds of years. You have only a limited independent area to play interpretation. You have to follow the intention of the composer. But in the rock concerto, the music is original. You can do whatever you want as long as it sounds well. You can express yourself a hundred percent as you are. The rock concerto offers a musical journey. People do not just come to listen 50 minutes of music, but to enter a different world. I want to grasp their attention at the first minute and take them to a different world. That is basically the idea behind it.

Which countries have you performed the rock concerto so far, and where did you get the most crowded audience? And, why, do you think?
Well, actually rock concerto is quite a new project. The premiere was held in America only two months ago. Apart from that, we mainly performed it in Turkey. We played in Izmir, Bursa, İstanbul and Eskişehir. We also played once in Israel. The most crowded we got was in İstanbul at AKM. But in Cyprus, we had an unfortunate shift of places. Because of the rain, we moved the stage and all the equipment to the EMU Sports Hall, from the Antique Theatre of Salamis. I think it is why we could not get many spectators.

A DETERMINED AND INNOVATIVE FESTIVAL
You are among the very few virtuosi able to perform Paganini’s 24 Caprices at one recital. Is this extraordinary performance the result of long hours of study, or a deep love of the composer?
Both actually. Ever since I was very little, I was always fascinated by the image of Paganini.

Well, for the 24 Caprices, I had an opportunity to give a recital in New York in the very beginning of my career. My father gave me the idea to do something really striking and challenging, instead of a regular list of sonatas. Thus started a hard marathon and finally the recital attracted attention. Then, we shot this film of my performance with the director Bruno Monsaingeon, which was released worldwide on DVD just a week ago.

You moved to the US from Russia with your
family. Do you ever wonder where is home to you?

This is an easy question to answer, because obviously it’s US. Not to forget to mention that there is a wonderful culture in Russia. Actually nowadays, I spend more time in Turkey. Turkey is home to me for now.

Would you like to add something?
I would like to emphasize how much I am impressed with the hard work undertaken in the organisation of the music festival in Cyprus. I am very glad to participate in such a festival. I give a lot of concerts around Europe in the scope of various organisations. One or two years later, these organisations generally end up. But here, it is exactly the opposite. Thanks to the determined attitude of the festival, the interest in the culture is getting bigger and bigger every year, giving me a pleasant hope. I take pleasure in watching this grow, that is why I come back every year.

JETLAGGED!
How do you keep up with long hours of flight spent within the plane?

It is fine. I like travelling. I feel relaxed. I sleep or I can even read. It is better to fly long way than to make connections. Then, you have to spend long hours at a terminal which gives you exact boredom.

Does the long hours of travelling affect your adaptation or performance? Or what do you do to prevent this?

It does not, really. I never had any trouble. Maybe in the case of some organization problems, some times I had difficulties. But it happens very seldom indeed.

You said you enjoy coming here. Have you ever flied with CTA in one of your travels to Cyprus?

Yes, I think last year and the year before, when I was to come to Cyprus for the festival again, I travelled with CTA. It was very good experience. I enjoyed it.

Have you ever encountered something interesting in one of your flights?

Of course, I encounter a lot of interesting things on my journeys. Once, I remember, I was running very late for one of my flights from Cyprus. And, they got me directly on the plane, on the runway a few minutes before the plane takes off. I felt like James Bond.

A living legend

Alexander Markov was born in Moscow and studied violin with his father, concert violinist Albert Markov. By the time he was eight years old, he was already appearing as a soloist with orchestras. At the age of fourteen, he received a rare personal invitation from Jascha Heifetz to study with him. The Gold Medal winner at the Paganini International Violin Competition, Markov is praised by the famous violinist Lord Yehudi Menuhin with these words, “He is without doubt one of the most brilliant and musical of violinists”

***Published in Caretta, 2008.

İğnenin 500 yıllık dansı: Lefkara İşi

2010-02-11T10:19:00.003+01:00

Beş yüz küsür yıllık bir gelenek olan Lefkara nakış işçiliği, anneden kıza aktarılan bir gelenek. Lefkara İşi, Kıbrıs kültürünün yüzyıllardır değişmez simgesi olmayı sürdürüyor

Yüzyıllardır farklı medeniyetlerin hakimiyeti altında kalan Kıbrıs, yöresel el sanatları açısından birçok farklı kültürün sentezine dayalı bir zenginliğe sahip. Birçok uygarlığın izlerini mozaiğinde taşıyan Kıbrıs, el sanatları açısından tarihte hep önemli bir üne sahip olmuş. Krallara, kraliçelere, komutanlara sunulan Kıbrıs el sanatlarının nadide örnekleri, kişisel koleksiyonların gözde parçaları olmuş.

El sanatları açısından hayranlık uyandıran bir çeşitlilik ve zerafete sahip Kıbrıs kültüründe, yüzyıllardır belki de en çok rağbet gören parça ise, Lefkara İşi olarak bilinen nakış işçiliği. 1953 yılında İngiltere Kraliçesi’ne bir örneği sunulan Lefkara İşi, adını Kıbrıs adasının güneydoğusunda yer alan küçük ve sevimli bir kasabadan alıyor. 1481 yılında Kıbrıs’a gelen Leonardo da Vinci, bir parça Lefkara İşi’ni Milano Katedrali’nde sergilemek üzere yanında götürmüş. Sonrasında, bu eşsiz parçanın ünü Milano’da yayılmış.

Venedik dantellerini kıskandıracak incelikteki Lefkara İşi’nin öyküsü ise, kendi güzelliği kadar müstesna.

Dantelin büyüsü

Besteci Vivaldi’nin, bütün o muhteşem eserlerini nasıl bestelediği anlatılırken, Venedikli kızların eteklerindeki zarif dantellerden ilham aldığı söylenir. Danteli çok seven Venedikliler, Kıbrıs’ı 15. yüzyılda hakimiyetleri altına aldığında, Lefkara’da halihazırda nakış işçiliği yapıldığı biliniyor. Venedikliler’in çok ilgi göstermesi ile ünlenen Lefkara dantellerinin üretimini artırmak için o dönemde köyde kurslar açılmış. Lefkaralı genç kızlar ve civar köyle
rden gelen kızlar, Lefkara’ya özgü bu nakış işçiliğini bu kurslarda öğrenmişler.

Zenginliğin en önemli simgelerinden biri olan gösterişli dantellerin çok rağbet gördüğü Venedik’te, İtalyan tüccarların Kıbrıs’tan götürdüğü Lefkara İşi danteller kısa sürede önemli bir yer edinmiş. Venedikli genç hanımlar, balolarda bu muhteşem dantellerle gösteriş yapıyorken, Lefkara halkı da dantel ihracatından önemli gelir elde etmeye başlamış. Kısa sürede, civar köylerden gelen kızların da katılımıyla, Lefkara nakış işçiliği, bölgede önemli bir üretim ve geçim kaynağı olmuş.

1481 yılında Kıbrıs’a gelen ünlü sanatçı Leonardo da Vinci’nin, bu harikulade el işçiliği örneklerinden satın almak için Lefkara’yı bizzat ziyaret ettiği söylenir. Da Vinci, aldığı el işi dantelleri Milano Katedrali’ne hediye eder ve burada sergilenen danteller büyük ilgi görür. Bugün Leonardo Da Vinci tarafından seçilen Lefkara nakışında bulunan motif, onun adı ile anılıyor. Motif, Kıbrıslı Türkler tarafından ‘dere’ olarak adlandırılıyor.

1571 yılında Osmanlı idaresine geçen Lefkara’ya yerleşen Türkler de bu ince ve zarif dantel işçiliğini öğrenerek, Anadolu’dan getirdikleri modellerle zenginleştirmiş. Sonraki yüzyıllarda, adaya gelen turist ve tüccarlar, Lefkara İşi dantellerden yanlarında götürerek farklı coğrafyalarda bu el sanatlarının varlığını sürdürmüşler.

18. yüzyılda yoğun olarak göç etmeye başlayan Lefkaralı Rumlar da, sahip oldukları bu kültürel mirası başka ülkelere taşırlar. Bu süre boyunca nakış, Lefkara köyü için o kadar önemli bir gelir kaynağı olur ki, sağlanan gelir ile köye bir hastane ve beş sınıflı bir okul yaptırıldığı söylenir.
Uzun yıllardır Lefkara işi yapan Şenay Ekingen, Lefkara İşi’nin savaş ve zorluk zamanlarında aile geçimine katkılarını ve Lefkara İşi ile tanışmasını şöyle anlatıyor: “1964 yılında Lefkara yerlilerinin bir kısmı, Akıncılar bölgesine göçtüler. Ben de Lefkara İşi ile bu sayede tanıştım. 1970’li yıllarda, el sanatlarına olan düşkünlüğümün de etkisi ile bu kişilerden Lefkara İşini öğrendim. O dönemde insanlar geçim sıkıntısı çekerken, bu el sanatı ile geçimlerini sağlamaktaydı. Ailemin desteği ile ben de bu işi öğrenmeye karar verdim. 1974’e kadar da bu işi yaptım. Ancak 74 sonrası malûm nedenlerle bir durgunluk yaşadık. 1987 yılında tekrar başladığım Lefkara işini, o günden beri esas mesleğim olarak sürdürüyorum.” Şenay Hanım, Büyük Han’da bulunan dükkanı Sü-Ha Ticaret’te 2002 yılından beri, yaptığı işleri sergiliyor.
Aynı dönemin bir başka tanığı, Talat Ermetal, Lefkara işi ile postahanedeki görevi sırasında tanışmış. 1962-74 yılları arasında postanede çalışan Ermetal, bu dönmede ABD ve İngiltere’ye yüksek miktarda Lefkara işinin gönderilmesine tanık olmuş. Ermetal, 1974 sonrasında bu işi kendisi yapmaya karar vermiş: “Lefkara’lıların yerleştikleri bölgelere giderek, eşimin hazırlamış olduğu motifleri, onlara yaptırdım ve Pile aracılığı ile, Rum tarafına pazarladım. Pazarladığım ürünlerin içerisinde tepsi, çerçeve gibi eşyaların ise kaplamalarını ben hazırlamaktaydım.” Bugün, Talat Ermetal, yılların deneyimi ile, Lefkara işlerini Büyük Han’daki dükkanında ziyaretçilere sunuyor.

El emeği, göz nuru

Anadan kıza geçen bir gelenek olan nakış işçiliği, mekândan ve zamandan bağımsız, hep kadınlarla özdeşleştirilmiş. Mısır’da tahtın koruyucusu olduğuna inanılan dokuma tanrıçası Neith’ten, Yunan Mitolojisinin talihsiz nakışçısı Arakne’ye; Odysseus’un sadık eşi Penelope’den, yün dokuma tezgahında büyü yaptığına inanılan pagan kadınlarına; kocası VIII. Henry’nin gömleklerini işleyen Aragon’lu Catherine’den, çağdaş sanatın marjinalliğinde nakışı ve dokumayı yeniden gündeme getiren Kahireli sanatçı Ghada Amer’e...

Lefkara nakış işçiliği de Kıbrıs’ta yüzyıllardır kadınlar ve genç kızlar tarafından sürdürülüyor. Lefkaralı hanımların, annelerin, kızların ince ellerinde özenle hayat bulan Lefkara İşi, iki grupta toplanıyor: Keten üzerine Lefkara İşi ve iğne işi Lefkara. İkisinin de işlemesi sırasında yastık kullanılıyor. İğne işi Lefkara’nın yapımı son derece zahmetli, ancak ortaya çıkan sonuç büyüleyici. Keten üzerine Lefkara İşi yapılırken, yastık üstüne tutturulan keten kumaşın ipleri çekiliyor ve iğne ile kareler oluşturuluyor. Yıldız dolgu işlenerek ve kesme yolu ile süsleme yapılarak Lefkara İşi o nazenin görüntüsüne kavuşuyor. Motiflerin tamamlanması sonrasında tüm işin etrafına kemer işlemesi veya simbi yapılıyor.

Lefkara keteni önceleri Kıbrıs'ta ekilmekte ve yöreli kadınlar tarafından dokunmaktaymış. Geçmişte keten dışında kaput ve deri üzerine Lefkara İşi de yapılmaktaymış. Annelerin, kızlarının çeyizleri için dokuduğu Lefkara İşi, zamanla güzelliğinden ötürü farklı coğrafyalara da yayılarak, ticarî bir değer kazanmış. Bugün de, Lefkara İşi Kıbrıs kültürünün önemli bir temsilcisi. Adaya gelen turistler, bu dantel örneklerine büyük ilgi gösteriyor. Ancak, güzelliği ile büyüleyici olan Lefkara İşinin ardındaki hikaye ve tarih malesef çok fazla bilinmiyor. Adayı ziyaret eden turistlere hitaben Lefkara İşi; tabak, çanta, bardaklık gibi eşyaların üzerine uygulanıyor. Anılır Art Gallery’den Aysın Anılır, özellikle turistlerin ilgi duyacağı, kılıf, kitap ayıracı, tepsi, gibi daha portatif işler üzerine çalışıyor. “Kıbrıs kültürünün hazinelerinden sayılacak Lefkara işleri, bu kültürü yayabilmek amacı ile de oldukça önem taşımaktadır”, diyor Anılır. 2001 yılından beri Lefkara işi yapan Anılır, temel teknikleri Lefkaralı komşusundan öğrenmiş Onun için bu sanatı yaşatmak ve tanıtmak çok önemli.

Geleneği yaşatmak

Kültürel zenginliklerin ve el sanatlarının korunması, günümüzün teknoloji ağırlıklı yaşamında çok büyük önem taşıyor. Seri üretimin, fabrikasyon ve kullanıma hazır eşyaların yaygınlaştığı çağımızda, yerel kültürün özgünlüğünü ve otantikliğini sürdüren el sanatları, hızlı bir gerileme ile yok oluşa sürükleniyor. Bunun değiştirilmesi, el sanatlarının ve yerel kültürün yaşatılması için birçok kurum farklı girişim ve projeleri hayata geçiriyor.

Kuzey Kıbrıs’ta 1977 yılında kurulan Halk Sanatları Enstitüsü (Hasder), Kıbrıs halk sanatlarının korunup yaşatılması ve yaygınlaştırılması yolunda çalışmalar yapan derneklerden biri. Has-Der, Kıbrıs el sanatlarının üretimini, mesleki eğitim verilmesini, üretilen ürünlerin sergilenmesini ve satışını gerçekleştiriyor.

Geleneksel Kıbrıs evlerinin en önemli süs eşyalarından biri olan ve Leonardo Da Vinci’den günümüz turistlerine kadar Kıbrıs’a gelen hemen herkesin ilgisini çeken Lefkara İşi, bu gibi derneklerin ve kültürel mirasını yaşatmaya çalışan Kıbrıslılar’ın sayesinde günümüze kadar ulaşmış. Bu zarif ve köklü geleneğin gelecek kuşaklara ulaşması ise, ancak yeni nesil gençlerin göstereceği ilgiyle mümkün.

Leonardo Da Vinci ve Lefkara

Ünlü sanatçı Leonardo Da Vinci’nin 16. yüzyıl başlarında, Magusa’daki kent duvarlarını yenilemek için Venedikli yöntecililerin daveti üzerine Kıbrıs’a geldiği çeşitli kaynaklarda belirtiliyor. İşte bu ziyareti öncesinde, 1481 yılında Leonardo, güzel dantellerin narin hanımların ellerinde hayat bulduğunu duyduğu Lefkara köyünü ziyaret eder. Bir parça Lefkara İşini, Milano Katedrali’nin altarında sergilenmesi için yanında götürür. Leonardo’nun güzelliği karşısında büyülendiği Lefkara dantellerinin motiflerini, Milano’daki Santa Maria delle Grazie Manastırı’nın yemekhane binasının duvarını süsyelen ölümsüz eseri Son Akşam Yemeği’nde de kullandığı söylenir.

İsa ve havarilerinin yemek yediği masanın üzerindeki örtünün sağ ve sol uçlarındaki desenlerin, Lefkara danteli desenlerinden etkilendiği iddia ediliyor. Leonardo’nun beğenerek satın aldığı Lefkara İşinin üzerindeki desenler, bugün Da Vinci deseni olarak bilinmekte. Kıbrıslı Türkler arasında bu desene verilen ad ise ‘dere’.

Dokumacılık, nakış ve kadınlar

Kumaş dokumacılığı ve nakış işçiliği birçok kültürde tarih boyunca hep kadınlar ile özdeşleştirilmiş. Dokumacılığın gerçekten de kadınlar tarafından yapılan bir uğraş olmasının yanı sıra, bu ilişki ile ilgili birçok söylence ve inanış var. Yunan Mitolojisi’ndeki talihsiz Arachne, bu tip öykülerin bilinen en eskilerinden. Hikaye şöyle: Arachne, o kadar güzel nakış dokumaktadır ki, tanrıça Athena onu bir düelloya davet eder. Hangisi en güzel deseni dokursa, yarışmayı o kazanacaktır. Kızın nakışı karşısında dili tutulan Athena öfkelenir ve Arachne’nin nakışını yırtar. Zavallı Arachne, üzüntüsünden kendini asar. Ama Athena, onu, sonsuza kadar ağ örsün de hiç bir faydasını göremesin diye örümceğe dönüştürür.

Avalon’un Sisleri filminde, pagan dinine mensup kadınları, dokuma tezgahında büyü yaparken görürüz. Zira Hıristiyanlık öncesi Britanya’sında, bu yaygın bir inanıştı.

Alfred Lord Tennyson’ın ‘Lady of Shalott’ şiirinde ise, aynı isimli kahramanın büyülü dokuma tezgahı, ona dış dünyayı yansıtan bir aynadır.

Dokumacılık, nakış ve ağ örme; eskiden geleceğin şekillendirilmesi olarak algılanırdı; ve kadınlar bu marifete sahip olduklarından, mistik bir biçimde geleceği şekillendirebilecekleri düşünülürdü.

****Caretta Dergisi'nde yayımlandı.

Fragmented Spaces of Globalisation: A-pathetic Desert of Postmodern Nomad

2008-10-21T22:03:00.001+02:00

“The deserted island is the origin, but a second origin. From it everything begins anew.”
Gilles Deleuze “Desert Islands”, 13

“Nomads are motionless, and the nomadic adventure begins when they seek to stay in the same place by escaping the codes”.
Gilles Deleuze “Nomadic Thought”, 261

The film Sheltering Sky begins with a nostalgia. The opening scenes of the film, shot black and white with a sort of nostalgic glance at the New York City, remind us the old flickers in the history of cinema. These flickers had a different speed of motion than what is accepted as the standard in cinema industry of today. In these movies, the images flickered and people and objects moved in a strangely and supernaturally faster speed. This is how the cinematographer Vittorio Storaro wants us to have a picture of New York on our minds for the rest of the film. New York is a melancholic nostalgia for the characters in this film. One of a quite different speed, time, and place. Actually, when one pays closer attention, it is apparent that these scenes are nothing but a montage of old archive shots showing various places and times in New York City. So, the city is shown in fragments. The film tell us in the first moment that in the memory of Port and Kit, the city is only a fragmented nostalgia.

Melancholy as Home
In the first scene after the credits, Port is shown lying in a state of distress under red and orange light – wet in anxiety, restless, uneasy. This is where the text of Paul Bowles begins - Port waking up from a dream:
“[H]e was too deeply immersed in the non-being from which he has just come. If he had not the energy to ascertain his position in time and space, he also lacked the desire. He was somewhere, he had come back through vast regions from nowhere; there was the certitude of an infinite sadness at the core of his consciousness, but the sadness was reassuring, because it alone was familiar.”

The non-being...He has just come... This description of deterritorialisation entails the comprehension of “being” as a list of attributes you hold according to the value system of the culture you are born into. This sort of reading suggests that once you moved away from it, you get stripped of your being. But here, the analogy merits attention. Port’s peculiar state that lingers between dream and wakefulness is parallelled to his journey away from home to North African deserts. In this respect, being away from home is resembled to nothing but a twilight sleep – between dream and reality. Not at an exact position in “time and space”; but floating between spaces. Port is both somewhere and nowhere, as the text suggests. Somewhere, but it is not important exactly where. He has come from nowhere, because left behind as the previous destination, now means nothing. In such a mobile position between fragments without depth, Port has only but one feeling familiar to him: sadness. Melancholy is the home of the traveller.
This melancholy can hardly be interpreted as a feeling of longing for home, though. Obviously, Port is never thinking of going back to New York, or Europe. Kit, however, believes they will “stop” and go back to New York, one day. She sometimes enjoys dreaming European cities .

Consuming Fragmented Spaces
What drives Port to such a state of mobility? He is rich, he is a New Yorker – one of those people we see in the beginning of the film, enjoying underground, skyscrapers, city lights, a metropolitan culture at its height. Renouncing the opportunities and facilities of living in one of the centres of Western society, he travels to desert. His departure off the geography he is born into might be romanticised through an interpretation that suggests that he renounced the system that governs West and went for the desert – the domain of nothingness. However, Port rather seemed to me a “consumer” – a consumer of spaces, shaped by postmodern condition : “No needs should be seen as fully satisfied, no desires considered ultimate” . Therefore, postmodern subject is driven into a state of excitement – an excitement seeker. “[A] good consumer is a fun-loving adventurer” . The postmodern subject is a nomad, travelling from one desire to another: “There is equally the restlessness, the mania for constant change, movement, difference – to sit still is to die” . The satisfaction, however, abides only in the moment of arrival. Then begins a new adventure towards a new satisfaction, which actually values so little compared to the process.
A sort of traveller like Port cannot really get into the culture he is travelling into. The lack of pathos is always existent within the postmodern nomad. In Sheltering Sky, we see Port drifting from one place to another without ever getting into real contact with the local culture, except for his mysterious journey to the tent of Marhnia. For him, the important thing is to “go”, to “travel”. As soon as he arrives in a town, he goes searching for the next bus to another city. No ultimate destination exists for Port. Port is a consumer of voyages. He is a collector of memories. He is always in exile. Although he is present in the towns of Sahara, he is simultaneously absent. He is like the “black hole” without a “white wall”. A half face without Kit . He watches everything around and registers to his subjectivity, yet he can hardly share them with Kit. There is always a sort of deferrence between the two. And this is mostly felt in the scene where the two are finally left alone as Tunner left for Messad:
“[R]ather than make any effort to ease whatever small tension might arise between them, she determined on the contrary to be intransigent about everything. It could come about now or later, that much-awaited reunion, but it must all be his doing. Because neither she nor Port had ever lived a life of any kind of regularity, they both had made the fatal error of coming hazily to regard time as non-existent. One year was like another year. Eventually everything would happen.”

Time, as non-existent...Kit determines to behave quite the contrary to her will. For she believes, time means nothing and what she longs for will happen eventually. Port undergoes a similar decision process a few lines before Kit’s. He “temporarily abandon[s] the idea of getting back together with Kit.” He takes this decision on intuitive grounds though. He believes that “when he least expect[s] it, the thing might come to pass of its own accord” .
Both are waiting for a re-union, so we learn, a re-birth of their intimate days. And to be reborn, he and Kit head for the desert - an island, surrounded by lands of different type. “A cosmic egg” – so does Deleuze call islands in his magnificent essay “Desert Islands”.

Noah’s Ark becomes a Bed of Pain
The title of Deleuze’s article, “Desert Islands” is twofold by nature. One can read it as a combination of an adjective and a noun – hence islands that are deserted, or, islands that are like deserts, or else, islands which are deserts themselves. Another reading would suggest – through noun plus noun combination – deserts as islands. Indeed, deserts are much like islands in their isolated nature.
In the case of Sheltering Sky, the desert is an island, so much as it is a deserted island for Port and Kit. Like ships around a deserted island, they wander around in distance but never really come ashore. Throughout the narrative, there are examples when Port goes for a walk into the city and meets the locals. These are only fragments, though. He can only experience the local culture in fragments. Kit’s existence, on the other hand, provides him a sort of connection to his native culture. The relationship of husband and wife is also fragmented and a parallel motif for this situation.
Desert, as a cosmic egg, in Deleuze’s sense, is expected to serve take away this fragmentedness. In “Desert Islands” Deleuze suggests:
“the formation of the world happens in two stages, in two periods of time, birth and rebirth, and that the second is just as necessary and essential as the first, and thus the first is necessarily compromised, born for renewal and already renounced in a catastrophe.”

We know that Port renounces New York when he comes to the Sahara, seeking for a new beginning in life that will come with succeeding integration and a re-birth of their marrigae with Kit. Also Kit, later on renounces her connections with that culture after the death of her husband, and she flees to the desert. There, she seeks for a new beginning with Belqassim in her new disguise.
Deleuze explains this renewal in his essay via the myth of flood; the first creation renounced and a new beginning is sought and only made possible by an island – a mountaintop circulated by flood waters around. Noah’s ark sets on this island, a sacred land in shape of egg. Remember that Port and Kit arrive in the Sahara by boat, actually they insist on coming by boat. The journey, intended for new beginnings, is therefore both an interior and exterior one.

“Nomads are motionless”
Earlier I have stated that Port was a consumer of voyages. There is no question that he is a traveller-type of fellow, as it is clearly indicated both by the narrative and by a key scene in the film. I have also stated that Port and Kit’s journeys into the desert have an interior value the aims of which are similar to the physical journey itself – the re-beginning. However, although these people try to escape from New York, from capitalist mode of production, from Western value system, they seem to be entrapped by it in some way. The very system conditions its individuals to a sort of restlessness and will to travel – remember Bauman’s point . In this sense, Deleuze discusses that the term “nomad” should actually be understood in a different way. For Deleuze, “real nomadic adventure begins when [one seeks] to stay in the same place by escaping the codes.” To seek a new beginning in the global world, one should think of travelling beyond the codes. If that is ever possible.

A Nomad in the Desert of the Real
“I think all you drinkers are victims of a huge mass hallucination” cries Port to Kit and Tunner, who are less like him in terms of postmodern restlessness.
Imagining everyone seeking a way out of this system actually as a result of the conditioning of this system, creates an image of the world as a desert. When stripped of its codes, signifiers and signifieds, its charming commodities, its conditioning media, the world is nothing but a global desert. As Baudrillard puts it: “Welcome to the desert of the real”.

Turning the Tables! PLEASE COMMENT ON THIS ARTICLE!

2008-08-31T14:07:00.003+02:00

This article was published in Guardian, under the section "Comment is Free". For a research, I need more comments, please comment on it.

My sister, who wears a veil, was verbally abused by a stranger this weekend. What should she say to the people who insult her?

by Riazat Butt

Wednesday August 27 2008 11:00 BST

My sister has worn a face veil for six years. She lives in Birmingham, where it is common to see women shrouded in black, however the sight is more unusual in Southampton, where my parents live and where, at the weekend, my sister was called "a ninja woman".

This insult is neither the most hurtful – "fucking terrorist freak" – nor the most spurious – "Osama-lover" – to have been levelled at her over the years. But it wasn't the name-calling that really rankled her and me.

We challenged the man who made the remark, he denied saying it, even though he said it as I was passing him. My sister called him "a lying bigot", which is all she could muster on a Sunday afternoon in Primark, en route to Clark's to have her children fitted for new shoes, but she delivered it rather splendidly, to the bemusement of shoppers who, if they hadn't noticed her before, suddenly found her rather interesting. Her children asked why mummy was shouting at a man.

She left Primark in a foul mood, and sitting in Clark's with three children who kept complaining about being bored/tired/hungry was not the best way for her to calm down. Later, rushing to the car to avoid a parking ticket, she told me she could handle the stares and the insults but not the lies. She always made a point, she said, of walking up to people and asking them why they had called her names. The response was either silence or denial. Perhaps they were surprised she could speak English or even hear them through the cloth. She said:

People never say things to your face, they always say them once they think you're out of earshot. That's what gets me. When you bring them up on it, they deny saying anything or they look in the other direction. Men are the worst.

My sister wears a face veil because it is something she wants to do. She knows not all Muslim women feel the same and she is not on a mission to force others to adopt the same dress code as her. She is not breaking the law. She is, as she sees it, minding her own business, being a mother and bringing up her children. My question is: the next time someone calls her a name, how should she respond?

A French Poet in Cyprus: Arthur Rimbaud

2008-08-02T14:18:00.005+02:00

“It has been found again! What? Eternity.
It is the sea mingled with the sun.”

Island means escape. It means freedom. It means isolation. It calls one to chase one’s own utopia in the far distance of every civilisation. Cyprus meant all these to the French poet Arthur Rimbaud; a newfound eternity.

Imagine a stone quarry in Cyprus... Then, place a supervisor in this scene... Let this be a French fellow who mostly enjoyed hard work... Let this be Arthur Rimbaud, the poet who charmed the literary scene of Paris with his poems he wrote in his teens only; one who wrote the most innovative and influencing poem of the age when he was only 17. He burnt out all the poems he had written at once, left Europe, and came here, to Cyprus...
Renowned French poet Paul Verlaine mentioned him, “He was neither Devil nor the holy God; he was Rimbaud, a great poet, (...) a distinctive boy!”
Rimbaud was doubtless a genius who shaped the world of poetry with his four-year work, from the age of 16 to the age of 20. He took poetry out of drawing rooms and placed it in the middle of modern life by crying “from your dark poems, let strange flowers burst out, and electric butterflies! See – it’s the century of Hell!” The life of the poet, who claimed, “I is another”, passed quite congruent to this aphorism of him, extending from the world of letters into a world of hard work incorporating two different others.

The Beginning
Rimbaud is known to have a quick start in life in every aspect. He is said to be born with his eyes open in the morning of October 20, 1854. Then, we see him as an obstreperous teenager. He is young, rebellious, and restless, pushing the borders all the time. Given this image of Rimbaud, a photograph of the poet, retouched to show him wearing jeans, was used as a symbol of the student revolt in Paris in May 1968. The restless soul of Rimbaud, which pushed him leave home several times, finally took him thousands of miles, even continents far from his homeland...
The renowned French poet Verlaine receives a letter in a morning of the year 1871. This was a set of poems, one like which he receives a thousand maybe every day. But this time, it was different. The letter was signed ‘Arthur Rimbaud’, and Verlaine was impressed by the imagery of these poems. He sends a reply to Rimbaud, “We await you; we desire you” with a train ticket to Paris attached.
A forerunner of the Decadence movement in France, standing for “art for art’s sake” which will give way to later Symbolism and Aestheticism, Verlaine is shocked upon meeting Rimbaud, for what he was expecting was a 30-year old man; but what he found instead was a 17-year old countryboy. He patrons him in Paris and introduces him to the literary circles in the city. In the meantime, Rimbaud and Verlaine, whose wife is pregnant, get into a homosexual relationship. In his masterpiece ‘A Season in Hell’, Rimbaud traces this relationship. He mentions Verlaine as “a demon” whose “mysterious ways” seduced him.
When Rimbaud attempted to break apart with Verlaine, the poet shoots him in the arm and he was sent into a Belgian gaol for two years. Upon this, Rimbaud shuts him in his room for some time and writes poetry. At the point that he has many poems to fill a book, he takes them and heads for publishing houses. Nevertheless, the society of letters accuses Rimbaud for spoiling Verlaine’s life by first destroying his marriage and then putting him in the jail. Therefore, he is refused by every little publishing house he takes his poems. The young genius is deeply depressed. And this moment is the exact moment in which everything comes to an end. He throws all his poems into fire at once, the ones that compose his masterpiece ‘A Season in Hell’ mostly, and leaves the country. To become an ‘other’... It is the year 1875...

The Escape
“My day is done: I am leaving Europe. The marine air will burn my lungs; unknown climates will tan my skin.” (A Season in Hell)

The year 1878... After stopping by several cities in Africa, Cyprus welcomes Rimbaud with its tranquillity. Here in Cyprus, he works as a supervisor at a stone quarry. He turns out to be a “man of action” totally leaving aside his personality of a “ man of thought”. He takes fancy in doing hard work. Poetry is dead for him. He never mentions his ‘previous’ life and his glorious days in Paris. No one, not even his employer, knows where he is from or who he is. Upon the inquiries concerning his past he replies, “absurd” and goes on “ridiculous, disgusting”. Rimbaud, has become somebody else. He is leading a tranquil and silent life in Cyprus, where he escaped from his past or maybe from himself.
The first letter he wrote from Cyprus to his mother carries the evidences of that dense feeling of isolated loneliness that would seal his life from then on: “The nearest village is one hour away on foot. There is nothing here but a jumble of rocks, a river, and the sea. There are no houses. No soil, no gardens, no trees”. And of course, no poetry...
How come did Rimbaud end up in Cyprus? Is it an escape from love, or from poetry? Or was he only seeking adventure? Maybe... However, a more detailed look will reveal another perspective: The years that covered Rimbaud’s life was an age in which modernism was climbing very fast. Many values underwent a rapid change with the Industrial Revolution that took place in the beginning of the century. Bourgeoisie was the enemy and everything that belonged to the bourgeois world was fought against. Poets were losing their place in the society.
However, towards the end of the 19th century, bourgeoisie started to gain power steadily. In the face of all these rapid changes, the poets and writers questioned their social idealism, had problems of concern and under this pressure preferred to escape. The literary movement that found roots in this circle of writers is the ‘Escapism’.
Under the suddenly changing values of the city, poets and writers escaped to the wilderness and pristine countries. Can we say then Rimbaud was an ‘escapist’? Considering his sudden escape and disappearing from Europe, he can be labelled as an escapist for sure. The word ‘escape’ in literature brings to mind ‘island’. Island means escape, a place far from the traces of civilisation.
Considering that transportation to islands was possible only via ships in the middle of the 19th century, the most attractive place to chase one’s personal utopia was an island.
Nevertheless, Rimbaud did not have a magnificent life in Cyprus. His letters to his mother tell us that he had hard times on this island. However, who can say this life was not what he pursued, his personal utopia? Especially thinking of the dark bohemian character we have here...
Rimbaud leaves the island in 1880 upon a quarrel he has with the workers, and heads for Aden via the Red Sea gradually getting farther and farther from Europe. After 11 years of exile, he sails to Marseille, worried for a fatal ache in his right leg. Diagnosed as cancer, his right leg is amputated and only six months later Rimbaud dies at the age of thirty-seven.

The End
“Let us go... All the filthy memories are disappearing... At dawn, armed with a burning patience, we shall enter into the splendid cities...” (A Season in Hell)

Teenage rebel, innovative poet, passionate lover, lonely heart...
The poet who came to Paris on a ‘Drunken Boat’ and lived ‘A Season in Hell’ and then had his ‘Illuminations’... Today Rimbaud is renowned neither as a stone quarry supervisor nor as a foreman. He has taken his place in the history of literature as the forerunner of Parnassian movement in literature which gave way to symbolism and decadence later on by seeking “art for art’s sake”. He is remembered as an influential poet who wrote the most innovative poetry of his age though only for four years in his lifetime... He is the great poet who passed by our land that we live on...

Rimbaud’s Oeuvre
The Drunken Boat (Le Bateau Ivre) 1871
The Illuminations (Les Illuminations) 1874
A Season in Hell (Une Saison en Enfer) 1873
(copies of it discovered at a Belgian publisher in 1901)

A Poem by Rimbaud
Sensation
Through blue summer nights I will pass along paths,
Pricked by wheat, trampling short grass:
Dreaming, I will feel coolness underfoot,
Will let breezes bathe my bare head.

Not a word, not a thought:
Boundless love will surge through my soul,
And I will wander far away, a vagabond
In Nature - as happily as with a woman.

Rimbaud in various disciplines of art
Though composed poetry for only four years in his lifetime, Rimbaud was influential not only in poetry and literature but also in various fields of art. His has impacts in the powerful movements of the 20th century such as Symbolism, Expressionism, and Aestheticism. The famous composer Benjamin Britten composed his poetry in ‘Les Illuminations’ (the Illuminations). Bob Dylan and Jim Morrison take him for inspiration. The film ‘Paris Blues’ (1961) narrates the poet’s life and his masterpiece ‘A Season in Hell’ was adapted for the screen. A retouched photography of Rimbaud showing him wearing jeans was the symbol of the student revolt in Paris in 1968.

*published in Caretta Magazine, Feb 2008

Kıbrıs’ta bir Fransız Şair: Arthur Rimbaud

2008-08-02T14:11:00.004+02:00

“Yeniden bulundu! Ne? Sonsuzluk.

Güneşle oynaşan denizdir o.”

Ada, kaçış demektir. Özgürlük demektir. İnziva demektir. Medeniyet’in, kalabalığın uzağında kendi ütopyanın peşine düşmek demektir. Fransız şair Arthur Rimbaud için Kıbrıs, bunların hepsini vaat eden, yeni bulunmuş bir sonsuzluktu.

Kıbrıs’ta bir taşocağı... Taşocağında bir denetleyici... Kimi zaman işçilerle birlikte ağır işin altına girmenin hazzını seven bir Fransız... Bu kişi, gençlik yıllarında Paris’teki edebiyat çevrelerini şiirleriyle büyüleyen, 17 yaşında çağının en etkileyici ve yenilikçi şiirlerini yazan Arthur Rimbaud. Yazdığı tüm şiirleri bir çırpıda yakıp Avrupa’yı bir anda terk ederek, buraya, Kıbrıs’a geldi.

Ünlü Fransız şair Paul Verlaine, "Ne şeytandı ne ulu Tanrı; Rimbaud’ydu o, yani çok büyük bir şair, (...) kimseye benzemeyen bir çocuk!" diye söz eder ondan. On altı yaşından yirmi yaşına kadar, dört senelik ürünüyle o, şiir dünyasını biçimlendirmiş bir dehaydı. “Bırakın, kara şiirlerinizden, tuhaf çiçekler patlasın ve elektrikli kelebekler uçuşsun! Görmüyor musunuz, bu cehennem çağıdır!” diyerek şiiri, aristokrasi sohbetlerinden alıp, modern hayatın tam ortasına, tüm çıplaklığıyla yerleştirdi. “Ben, ötekidir” diyen şairin hayatı, bu aforizmasını kanıtlar nitelikte; şiir ve edebiyattan, ağır işçiliğe kadar uzanan bir eksende, iki farklı ötekiyi, tek bir yaşamda birleştiren bir efsaneydi.

Başlangıç

Rimbaud, hayata her anlamda çok hızlı bir giriş yapmış olmasıyla bilinir. 20 Ekim 1854 sabahı, onun gözleri açık doğduğu söylenir. Sonrasında kabına sığmaz bir genç olarak karşımıza çıkar. Asi ve sınırlarını aşmak isteyen, bunun için çabalayan, içi kaynayan bir gençtir. Öyle ki, Rimbaud’nun rötuşlanarak kot pantolon giydirilmiş bir resmi, 1968 Mayıs’ında Paris’teki öğrenci hareketinin sembolü olmuştur. Sık sık evden kaçan Rimbaud’nun rahatsız ruh hali, onu ülkesinden kıtalarca uzaklara taşıyacaktır.

Ünlü Fransız şair Verlaine, 1871 yılında bir sabah, bir mektupla karşılaşır. Muhtemelen kendisine gönderilen milyonlarca taslaktan biridir bu. Arthur Rimbaud imzalı. Elindeki şiirlerin imgesel gücü karşısında son derece etkilenen Verlaine, Rimbaud’ya yazdığı cevaba bir de tren bileti ekleyerek onu Paris’e davet eder: “Seni bekliyoruz, seni istiyoruz.”

Fransa’da, sonradan Sembolist ve Estetik akıma yol açacak, “sanat, sanat içindir”i savunan Dekadans hareketin öncülerinden olan Verlaine, 30 yaşlarında tahmin ettiği şairin aslında 17 yaşında taşralı bir genç olduğunu gördüğünde hayrete düşer. Onu Paris’te koruması altına alır ve edebi çevrelere tanıtır. Bu sırada eşi hamile olan Verlaine ile Rimbaud arasında arkadaşlıktan öte bir ilişki başlar. Rimbaud, ünlü eseri ‘Cehennemde bir Mevsim’de bu ilişkinin güncesini tutar. Verlaine’den kendisini “kurnaz tuzaklarla oyuna getiren bir şeytan” olarak söz eder. Rimbaud, Verlaine’i terk etmeye karar verdiğinde ise usta şair, onu bir silahla kolundan yaralar ve 2 sene hapis yatar. Bunun üzerine odasına kapanıp şiirler yazar Rimbaud uzun bir süre. Bir kitabı dolduracak kadar şiiri olduğunda ise onları alıp yayıncıları dolaşmaya başlar. Ancak, büyük şair Verlaine’i içine düşürdüğü durumdan, tüm edebi çevreler onu sorumlu tutmaktadır ve Rimbaud çok acı bir şekilde, her yayıncının kapısından çevrilir. Büyük bir çöküntü yaşamaktadır. Ve bu an, onun için her şeyin bittiği an olur. Şiirlerin hepsini ateşe atar ve ülkeyi terk eder. Bir başkası olmak üzere... Yıl, 1875...

Kaçış

“Günlerim doldu: Terk ediyorum seni Avrupa. Deniz kokusu yakacak ciğerlerimi, bilinmeyen iklimlerin güneşinde kavrulacak tenim” (Cehennemde Bir Mevsim)

Yıl 1878...Afrika’da birkaç durağın ardından ayak bastığı Kıbrıs, ona sükûnetiyle kucak açar. Burada bulunduğu süre boyunca, bir taş ocağında denetleyici olarak çalışır. Bir düşünce adamı olmaktan çıkıp bir hareket adamına dönüşür adeta. Ağır işler yapmaktan haz duyar. Şiir ölmüştür, onun için. Alsa ve asla “eski” yaşamından söz etmez. Onun kim olduğunu nerden geldiğini kimse bilmez, işvereni bile. Ona geçmişi sorulduğunda “sadece saçmalık, der, bir sürü saçmalık”. Rimbaud, bambaşka bir insan oluvermiştir. Sade ve sakin yaşamaktadır.

Kıbrıs’tan ailesine yazdığı ilk mektup, onun bundan sonraki yaşamına damgasını vuracak olan o izole yalnızlık hissinin kanıtlarını taşımaktadır: “en yakın köy, bir saat yürüyüş mesafesinde. Burada dağlar, deniz ve ırmaktan başka hiçbir şey yok. Evler yok. Toprak yok, bahçe yok, ağaç yok...”. Şiir de yok...

Rimbaud’yu buraya getiren neydi? Aşktan mı kaçıyordu, şiirden mi? Macera mı arıyordu sadece? Belki... Ancak daha kapsamlı bir değerlendirme bize şunu gösterir: Rimbaud’nun yaşadığı çağ, modernleşme ivmesinin en hızlı olduğu çağdı. Sanayi devrimi ile birlikte birçok değer hızlı bir değişim göstermişti. Burjuva sınıfı, düşmanca görülüyor ve burjuvaziyi çağrıştıran her şeye karşı savaş açılıyordu. Bir şair, toplum içindeki yerini gitgide kaybediyordu. 19. yüzyılın sonlarına doğru ise burjuvazi kararlı bir şekilde güçleniyordu. Tüm bu hızlı değişimler karşısında şair ve yazarlar, sosyal idealizmlerini sorguluyor, aidiyet sorunu yaşıyor ve kaçmayı yeğliyorlardı. İşte tam da bu edebi çevre arasında, bu yıllarda doğan akım “escapism”, yani “kaçış”tır. Hızla değişen kent değerlerinin karşısında, şair ve yazarlar ya doğaya ya da el değmemiş ülkelere sığınmışlardır. Acaba, Rimbaud da bir “escapist” miydi? Yaşamını tamamen değiştirmesinin ve tek kelimeyle ‘ortadan kaybolması’nın onu bir “escapist” yaptığı şüphesiz. Kaçış denince, edebiyatta akla ilk gelen şey “ada” olur hep. Ada, kaçış demektir, medeniyetten uzak bir durak demektir. Özellikle, 19. yüzyıl ortalarında, adalara ulaşımın sadece gemilerle mümkün olduğu düşünülürse, kişisel ütopyanın en muhtemel hedeflerinden birinin bir ada olduğu kesindir. Ne var ki Rimbaud, Kıbrıs’ta muhteşem bir yaşam sürmedi. Annesine mektuplarından onun sıkıntılı ve zor günler geçirdiğini öğreniyoruz. Ancak, bunun onun ütopyası olmadığını kim söyleyebilir ki?

Ocaktaki işçilerle giriştiği bir kavga sonucu adadaki işini bırakmak zorunda kalan Rimbaud, 1880’de Kıbrıs’tan ayrılır ve Kızıl Deniz yoluyla, Avrupa’dan gitgide daha da uzaklaşarak Aden’e gider. On bir yıllık sürgünün ardından, sağ bacağındaki ağrı nedeniyle, bir gemiyle Marseille’e gelir. 37 yaşındaki Rimbaud’nun sağ bacağı kanser teşhisi ile kesilir ve altı ay sonra da yaşamı sona erer.

Son

“Hadi gidelim... Tüm pislik hatıralar yok oluyor... gün doğarken, tutuşmuş bir sabırla donanmış tavrımızla gireceğiz göz kamaştıran kentlere...” (Cehennemde Bir Mevsim)

Asi genç, yenilikçi şair, tutkulu âşık, yalnız ruh...

‘Sarhoş Gemi’ ile Paris’e gelip ‘Cehennem’de Bir Mevsim’ yaşayan ve ruhunun ‘Aydınlanma’sına kavuşan şair... Rimbaud, bugün ne bir denetleyici ne de bir işçi olarak anılıyor. O, çağına damgasını vurmuş ‘sanat, sanat içindir’ diye haykıran, sembolizme ve dekadansa yol açan Parnasizm akımının öncüsü. Bu topraklardan geçen büyük şair...

Rimbaud’nun Eserleri

Sarhoş Gemi (Le Bateau Ivre) 1871

Aydınlanma (Les Illuminations) 1874

Cehennemde Bir Mevsim (Une Saison en Enfer) 1873, ölümünden sonra basıldı

Rimbaud’dan bir şiir

Özlem

Mavi yaz akşamlarında, özgür, gezeceğim,
ayaklarımın altında nemli, serin kırlar;
Başakları devşirip, otları ezeceğim,
Yıkayıp arıtacak çıplak başımı rüzgar;

Ne bir söz,ne düşünce, yalnız bitmeyen bir düş
Ve yüreğimde sevgi; büyük, sonsuz, umutlu,
Çekip gideceğim, çingene gibi, başıboş
Doğada, -bir kadınla birlikte gibi mutlu.

Sanatın çeşitli alanlarında Rimbaud

Rimbaud, sadece 4 yıl şiir yazmış olmasına rağmen, sadece şiir veya edebiyat alanında değil, hem sanatsal hem de sosyal birçok alanda etkili olmuştur. Sembolizm, İzlenimcilik ve Estetik hareket gibi 20. yüzyıla damgasını vuran belli başlı akımlarda onun etkileri vardır. Ünlü besteci Benjamin Britten, Rimbaud’nun ‘Les Illuminations(aydınlanma)’ adı altında toplanan şiirlerini bestelemiştir. Bob Dylan ve Jim Morrison, onu bir ilham kaynağı olarak kutsamışlardır. Ünlü şairin yaşamını konu alan ‘Paris Blues(1961)’ adlı bir film ve eseri ‘Cehennemde Bir Mevsim’ ile aynı adı taşıyan bir uyarlama mevcuttur. Paris 1968 öğrenci hareketinde, Rimbaud’nun rötuşlanarak kot pantolon giydirilmiş bir resmi, hareketin sembolü olarak literatürdeki yerini almıştır.

---Caretta Dergisi'nde ve Kibris Gazetesi'nde yayinlandi...

Night of Crossed Destinies

2008-08-02T13:56:00.004+02:00

The Night of Crossed Destinies

North Cyprus Turtle Project invites you to experience a marvel of nature. You can observe sea turtles laying eggs in the silence and darkness of the midnight beach… An opportunity of a lifetime …

I already knew, on our way to Alagadi, that it would be a poetic night. A full moon, the stillness of the mountains beyond the beach, and the gentle breeze carrying the salty breath of the Mediterranean… We drive to Alagadi, known alternatively by locals as the Turtle Beach. It has been estimated that as few as 300-400 green turtles and 2,000 loggerheads nest throughout the Mediterranean each year. For both species, but in particular the Green Turtle, Northern Cyprus is clearly an extremely important nesting site. Alagadi is considered to be the fifth major nesting site in the Mediterranean for Loggerhead and Green turtles.
We take the turn right and follow signposts to ‘Turtle Project’. The information office, situated some distance from the beach, is known as the Goatshed. This is our meeting point before we set out to observe the nesting of sea turtles tonight. North Cyprus Turtle Project, known as the Marine Turtle Research Group, was initiated in 1992 by Kuzey Kibris Kaplumbagalari Koruma Dernegi (Society for the Protection of Turtles in Northern Cyprus, KKKKD/SPOT), which invited staff and students from Glasgow University to conduct a survey of the nesting beaches in Northern Cyprus. This took the form of an undergraduate expedition lasting three months. Since 1992 over 200 students and staff from British universities have taken part in the annual monitoring and conservation of marine turtles in Northern Cyprus. Work is carried out at the request of and in conjunction with members of the local Society for the Protection of Turtles and the local Department of Environmental Protection.
Around 21:00, we start our long walk from the goatshed to the beach under the guidance of the students who are involved in the Turtle Project. It is a night when destinies cross: the full moon above, the guests that accompany our walk and the mother turtle who is now swimming somewhere in the sea towards some point on the beach to lay her eggs. It is as if we are marching to meet our fate for tonight, somehow taking us to this silent corner of nature. I think of people in the city, killing time in front of their tellies. I am filled with the enthusiasm and delight of being here, and I cannot help but picture in my mind the mother turtle now somewhere in the sea, heading to our shore.

A Patch of Dark on the Sand
21:30… We lay our belongings at a point on the sand. One of the students says a female turtle is approaching. She crawls out of the sea, pausing frequently as if carefully scoping out her spot. We should stop at a distance so as not to alarm her. Maybe she will decide to stay over, and we can then approach her. Sometimes it happens that a turtle crawls out of the sea but for some unknown reason decides not to nest. This is called a "false crawl": it can happen naturally, be caused by artificial lighting or by the presence of people on the beach. All we can do for now is to wait until the students tell us the time is right to approach her.
Normally the students survey the beach every five minutes to check if some turtle comes nesting, and to inspect the nests that are close to hatching. Tonight we do not hear of any other turtles. There is only the one close to us. We learn that when the moon is full turtles are less liable to come to the shore for nesting and besides they usually tend to come much later in the night. This night it seems we are in luck. Whilst waiting we approach Robin Snape, the 25 year old project leader, to obtain some information about the marine turtles that visit Alagadi and the Turtle Project.

Turtles Visiting Alagadi and the Turtle Project
Robin tells us that two types of sea turtles come to lay their eggs at Alagadi: Loggerheads, which are publicly known as Caretta Caretta; and Green turtles. Green turtles, which grow bigger than the Loggerheads, come in large numbers, says Robin, especially this year. They are more specific about their nesting places than the Loggerheads. The Turtle Project volunteers and staff survey the beaches both day and night. They have two groups, working in shifts. Although their main headquarters is in Alagadi, they also have teams in Güzelyurt and Karpaz. Robin says the living conditions and opportunities differ from one base to another, so they regularly change places to be fair to all. For instance, the three students living in Karpaz are staying in a fire station with the firemen. This may be limiting to their social life. At the same time, Robin does not forget to mention the kind people who so generously offered them friendly places in which to stay.
Robin receives a message from the students who have been observing the mother turtle from close by, and now we know it is time…. it is time to meet our little girl who was swimming to the shore as we were walking to the beach.

Our Lady Turtle is Nesting
Sea turtles are generally slow and awkward on land, and nesting is exhausting work. The female turtle flings away loose sand with her flippers. She constructs a body pit by digging with her flippers and rotating her body. After the body pit is complete she digs an egg cavity, using her cupped rear flippers as shovels. The egg cavity is shaped roughly like a teardrop and is usually tilted slightly. When the turtle has finished digging the egg chamber she begins to lay her eggs. The average size of a clutch ranges from about 80 to 120 eggs. However, only a few of them produce healthy hatchlings. Nesting sea turtles appear to shed tears, but the turtle is just excreting the salt that accumulates in her body. Many people believe that while laying her eggs a sea turtle goes into a trance from which she cannot be disturbed. This is not entirely true. A sea turtle is least likely to abandon nesting when she is laying her eggs, but some turtles will abort the process if they are harassed or feel they are in danger. For this reason, it is important that sea turtles are never disturbed during nesting. As our lady, a Green Turtle, starts laying her eggs students measure her and keep her records. Her shell is 87cm, which is quite big for a Green Turtle. I ask Robin her age. He says it is not possible to tell exactly, but the project records have her tagged previously on this beach about 10 years ago. Then we calculate: given the fact that turtles reach adulthood at 30, and she was tagged some ten years ago, she might be around 40 years old. However it is quite possible that she used to come here before she was tagged. Therefore, according to Robin, she might well be 50 or even up to 80 years old.
Once all the eggs are in the chamber the mother turtle uses her rear flippers to push sand over the top of the egg cavity. Gradually, she packs the sand down over the top and then begins using her front flippers to refill the body pit and disguise the nest. The students mark the egg chamber by placing some sticks around it because, as she throws sand in all directions, it is hard to locate the nest afterwards. When she has moved about 2-3 metres from the nest the students start digging to identify the exact location of the egg chamber. Once they locate it, they place a cage around the nest to protect it from dangers. The last thing we want, says Graham Mumby, the project coordinator, is someone to drive a parasol directly into a nest so we place these cages over them. Another danger comes from predators. As the hatchlings start to come out they spread a particular smell, which is scented by dogs wandering around. Attracted by the smell the dogs will dig the ground to reach the hatchlings and eat them. For this reason a net is also placed over the nest.

Significant Work for Natural Survival
23:30… Our lady turtle looks exhausted now. Whilst watching her one feels very sensitive about the threats that endanger the turtles’ existence. I have always felt attracted to their elegant nature; the hard work of their motherhood, their mysterious selectivity of beaches, their lovely babies… but here, watching her laying eggs and undertaking this exhausting job with her big and aged body, is an extraordinary feeling. After throwing sand for a couple of minutes using her flippers, she stops to rest briefly. Then, taking a deep breath, she starts moving her flippers again…
According to information from Robin a turtle nests almost five times a season, leaving approximately a hundred eggs in each nest. Out of five hundred eggs around 350 will hatch, but only one in a thousand hatchlings will survive to adulthood and be able to carry on the cycle of life. Therefore, Robin stresses, if a turtle gets hurt or killed it puts at risk their very existence. Threats are not limited to the low rate of reaching adulthood, unfortunately. Sea turtles also face a myriad of dangers: industrial fishing, coastal development, and global climate change pose the greatest challenges to their continued survival. Due to these threats, many sea turtle species are now listed as endangered. Given all these facts you truly appreciate all the hard work done by the students, volunteers, and staff here at the Turtle Project to help save the lives of these turtles …

Back to the Sea
Our lady Green Turtle is now happy with the concealment of her nest. She slowly crawls her way back into the sea. Exhausted, she will rest in the waters to regain her strength before nesting again later in the season, finally beginning the migration back to her feeding ground. She meets the dark waters washed by blue moonlight, slowly disappearing, giving her bodily weight to the sea.
For us, the visitors, she came out of nowhere and she has returned to a mysterious corner of the deep. Somehow the paths of our destinies crossed tonight… my eyes wander the long beach as far as I can see under the dim moonlight. I see tens of nests marked by cages around them. I try imagining how wonderful it would feel to be able to experience this extraordinary event every night. In the dark, on the beach, you secretly become a part of nature – the realm of marvels.

Baby Caretta Carettas Surprise Us
As we were packing for our return journey, we approached a nest protected by a ring cage and a pyramid cage. Whilst trying to take a photo of this cage in the dark, holding our torches, we suddenly discovered a little baby turtle! And then another one! We yelled at the students “there are baby turtles here!” They came at once to record the hatching nest. The babies, they told us, are Caretta Caretta turtles. They, the students tell us, are identified by being totally black and, to our amazement, they told us that they might excavate the nest the next day! Nothing will hold us back from coming here and seeing baby Caretta Carettas coming out of their nest!

*published in Caretta Magazine, Aug 2008
** see "Caretta Caretta Babies Come Out!" - sequel to this article

Caretta Caretta Babies Come Out!

2008-08-02T13:53:00.004+02:00

While watching a huge Green Turtle laying eggs, we discovered two baby Loggerheads in a near nest! Today, we are going back to Alagadi to join the public excavation of the nest! Somewhere in the sand, those babies are waiting to be discovered and released to the sea….

When some sea turtles are just coming to lay their eggs, the first nests begin to open and baby sea turtles make their way to the sea. Following our surprising discovery of two Loggerhead babies on the beach last night, today we are informed that there will be a public excavation at 17:00. You are also invited!
During their regular nightwatches, the students in the Turtle Project, check the nests which are older than 40 days. This indicates that the nest could hatch any time. Therefore, these nests get different treatment to protect any early babies from being eaten or destroyed. They place a pyramid cage to protect any predators stealing into the nest, and a ring cage around it so that if any babies come out of the nest, they stay within this ring until the students find them. We had approached this kind of nest last night as we were about to leave the beach after having watched a 87-cm Green Turtle lay her eggs; and we had discovered two baby Loggerhead sea turtles, which are commonly known as Caretta Caretta.

Excavating the Nest
As hatchlings usually emerge from their nest at night when temperatures are cooler, upon such discovery, the following day the Turtle Project places notices at crowded places in the city to invite people to join public excavation. The people already on the beach willingly approach to witness the birth of the hatchlings. So, it is always very crowded. To prevent any chaos, and to secure their smooth working without any harm to the babies, first the students tape off the area around the nest and a small area near the sea, where they will let the babies perform their legendary walk to the sea.
Excavating hatched sea turtle nests, or ones that have failed to hatch, provides crucial information for understanding turtle hatching successes and failures. Students try to understand the reasons for unsuccessful or high mortality-rate turtle nests. At the end of the season with all the data the volunteers and workers write the final report on the sea turtle nesting season.

Babies Show Up
The students slowly dig the sand using their hands and fingers. This process should be done carefully not to cause any damage to the babies. We start finding them close to the surface. At first, one shows himself. Then, a second, and a third one! They are all covered in sand! You can see a dark spot at the place of their eyes! The students measure them, and weigh them to keep a record. Then they all go into a bucket. Soon, Graham (Graham Mumby, the project coordinator) finds a pip, just coming out of its shell. One of the students takes it around to make everyone see it. It is so hard to believe these little creatures grow so big and heavy. They are Loggerhead babies, which means they will grow nearly to 110 cm. They look so fragile and tiny! They are lucky because they are not left alone to their fate. Many dangers await them on the pathway to their adulthood from the very first moment of their lives.
Once they get out of the nest, the hatchlings orient themselves to the brightest horizon and then dash toward the sea. If they don't make it to the sea quickly, many hatchlings will die of dehydration in the sun or be caught by predators like birds and crabs. Once in the water, there are still many obstacles for hatchlings. Sharks, big fish and circling birds all eat baby turtles, and they die after accidentally eating tar balls and plastic garbage. The obstacles are so numerous for baby turtles that only about one in 1,000 survives to adulthood.

Power of Nature
During the excavation, the Turtle Project team discovers 72 eggs; 16 of them alive. Sixteen Caretta Caretta babies are now ready to go into the sea… The students take them in their hands and leave them at some distance on the beach to let us see how they crawl towards the water. Everybody watches them amazed! Years later, if any of them could survive, she will come back to lay her eggs here, on this beach. At the very place her life started, she will give life to other turtles… If preserved effectively, Alagadi will continue to raise a myriad of turtles in her womb.

*published in Caretta Magazine, Aug 2008
** This article is a sequel to "The Night of Crossed Destinies"

CALL FOR PAPERS / THE JOURNAL OF CYPRUS STUDIES - SPECIAL ISSUE ON THE MEDITERRANEAN BEACH

2008-07-05T21:22:00.002+02:00

A “lunatic flirtation with shallow water” is Peter Ustinov’s summation of our affection for the beach. “A midsummer madness, a malady of heat,” the beach lends itself to “flatulent little outbursts ... unworthy bottom-pinching.” In the Frontiers of the Sea Ustinov wishes to draw us to more lofty matters, but the comedy is irresistible. The sage old men watch the holidaymakers: The varicose columns of white flesh which stand in the shallows like chunks of veined marble under their canopied skirts; the opulent stomachs rising softly to the crater of the navel; the tiny children (the only sensible ones in the old men’s unexpressed opinions) yelling their heads off with rage and fright as their laughing parents (the idiots) try to force them to learn to swim; the brown ladies, aglisten with pungent unguents, praying to the sun with that intense application which their forebears used to reserve for God, and with only an exorbitantly expensive handkerchief between them and scandal.
Written in 1967, The Frontiers of the Sea anticipates the mass seasonal exodus from Northern Europe to pleasure strips dotted along the Mediterranean. These strips, thoroughly packaged today, have become big business. The handkerchiefs which crowned pallid skulls in Scarborough and Blackpool are a thing of the past, a quaint trace of a half-remembered England now replaced by the ubiquitous baseball cap, fedora, and Panama hat, or, by strips of exorbitantly expensive risqué cloth. The bodies too have somewhat altered as beaches, catering less and less to varicose columns of white flesh, have become the brazenly assured exhibition spaces for a pre-summer gymed fitness.
Today the empire of the bold and the beautiful, the beach nevertheless remains as avidly anticipated as the sun; as a timeless frontier for revivifying possibilities.
But then again, what of non-Western relations, cultural practices, and approaches to the beach? What of the Mediterranean which laps the shores of Asia Minor, the Middle East, and North Africa? Are different relations to the sea, different cultural practices in evidence? Moreover, can one truly divide beach culture into Western and non-Western?
Given what Clifford Geertz calls “the dazzle of the new heterogeneity,” the world is “no longer satisfactorily describable as either a distribution of peoples or a system of states, a catalogue of cultures or a typology of regimes”? If so, how then are we to interpret those cultural relations to beach sand and sea which remain starkly other to “Western” relations to, and appropriations of, the beach?
This issue anticipates diverse engagements with the idea of the beach; with its place in diverse cultural imaginaries. While focused on, though not restricted to, the Mediterranean, it is expected that the collected papers will form a telling and dazzling constellation. While the possibilities are endless, key to this special issue will be the magnetic hold of the beach in the ever morphing culture of leisure. Within the number one global industry of tourism, the beach holiday remains primary as the ultimate romantic getaway, the family holiday, the clandestine tryst, or, simply, the purest and simplest mode of escape.
How, in a civilization still defined by the Weberian work imperative, does the beach sustain the secreted yearnings of societies defined by industry? Given that one makes a holiday – the holiday maker – to what extent is the beach a failed attempt to escape the primacy of work? How are we to understand the dialectic of work and leisure, if, in a postmodern world, the principle of labour has been surmounted by leisure as the ultimate definition of civilization? And how are we to account for the relationship between those whose lives are defined by the beach and those who are sometime visitors in someone else’s sun? Has the beach, particularly a foreign one, become the ultimate suburban theme-park? And what of its appeal to anthropologists and ethnographers as a peepshow, or its fickle appeal to fashionistas as a location for a perfect shoot? And where in this brazen catwalk does one figure the ordinary and everyday; for the beach is as exotic as it is banal. If, for Nietzsche, a northern lover of the sun, the South was a means to escape the dingy Protestant grip of the North, then how is one to understand the North’s relation to the Southern shore? Or the Middle East’s relation to its Western shore? Or Africa’s relation to its northern shore? And what role does the Mediterranean – that so-called “middle earth” – play in the shifting axis of intensities and pleasures of a world driven by leisure?
These are merely a few questions to consider. Perceptions from cultural analysts, literary scholars, photographers, historians, ethnographers, human geographers, and those in other disciplines, are more than welcome.
We look forward to hearing from you.
Warmly, from the Mediterranean’s easternmost island, Cyprus.

Ashraf Jamal
Department of English Literature and Humanities
Eastern Mediterranean University
(ashraf.jamal@emu.edu.tr)

Arthur C. Clarke and Intergalactic Pop Art

2008-03-27T10:10:00.005+01:00

Arthur C Clarke, the pioneering science fiction author died on March 18, 2008 at his home in Sri Lanka. Clarke wrote more than 100 books during his career spanning seventy years. Many people worldwide know him for his unforgettable and stunning masterpiece, 2001: A Space Odyssey’, filmed by Stanley Kubrick.
Clarke's diagnosis of an age marked by the rapid advances in technology that emnacipated the imagination of a whole generation fascinated many.
'2001: A Space Odyssey' is a pseudo history of the evolution of humankind drawing from Engels and concluding in Clarke's foresight. It starts with a depiction of the daily lives of apes, in far past times. An ape, among the many, at some point starts using its hand, operating with it. The movie does not show us a detailed process of making tools. Quite the contrary, it takes us to the very first moment when the ape was stricken by the thought to move its hand up and handle a bone. The moment is backgrounded with a score of Richard Strauss' magisterial piece 'Thus Spoke Zarathustra'. In all its implications, there is a leap to a new phase in human evolution/history. We hear Nietzsche, we watch Engels (see Engels' article 'The Part Played by Labour in the Evolution of Man). Clarke thought this new phase was coming to an end in his lifetime. The hopes for a moon landing triggered the imagination of a whole generation. These rapid advances in technology, so Clarke thought, meant a leap to a new phase: the Starchild. Starting with an ape tribe, the movie links to some thousands years far with a dissolve effect that links the bone and the space ship (in the shape of a bone, as well). The movie ends with another Strauss score (this time Johann Strauss, the son - "the next generation") 'The Blue Danube', showing an embryo in the space - "the starchild", the new phase.

Intergalactic voyages and moon landing
The context that triggered the imagination of Arthur C. Clarke, which later on triggered others’ imagination, is worth mentioning for a better understanding. The excitement about the 'Space Race' between the USSR and the USA was at its height in the 60s. People were excited about the advances in technology, new life style imposed by modernity, consuming boom, and increased popularity of images.
‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ appeared in 1968 in novel and film form. The talks of a possible trip to the moon, which was realised in 1969, changed the perception of the world for many, especially the Americans. It is not hard to find a pile of fiction, films, paintings, songs, and more produced in this era, which is marked by the fascination of the possibility to conquer the space. Celebrated Pop Artist Richard Hamilton placed the moon as the ceiling of the interior of a household in his famous collage called "Just What is it that makes today's home so different, so appealing?” This was in 1956. In 1962, Hamilton paints “Towards a Definitive Statement on the Coming Trends in Men's Wear and Accessories (a) Together Let Us Explore the Stars” – a young fellow in astronaut garments - combined elements from advertising and media. The idea for the painting came from an article on male fashion in Playboy magazine. In 1968 Joe Tilson reproduces a TV capture image of Yuri Gagarin – a work of art he entitled “Transparency I: Yuri Gagarin 12 April 1961”. ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ came the same year, nominated for four Oscars, winning only one for visual effects. The film/book gave an account of the moment that triggered the history of civilisation in the sense we understand it today: the moment when an ape starts using his hand – an important step in the history of human kind as Engels noted in a famous article. Convinced by the Engels argument, the audience are left convinced by the future foreseen in the movie: a baby in space – the history of humankind is to be written somewhere in space.
When Neil Armstrong travelled to the moon in 1969, he immediately became the most popular person all over the world. His picture was everywhere, reproduced on magazines, newspapers, and so on. Everyone was almost convinced that this was a huge step taken towards the sort of life depicted by Clarke and Kubrick in the film/novel. David Bowie sang Space Oddity the next year, in 1969, to coincide with the moon-landing. In the UK, it was used in conjunction with the BBC's coverage of the landing. The song was about the alienation feeling man encountered in his voyage in the space, staring the Earth from a long distance.

Clarke was right
The astronomer Patrick Moore, a friend of Clarke's since the 1930s "He foresaw communications satellites, a nationwide network of computers, interplanetary travel; he said there would be a man on the moon by 1970 - and he was right." In 1983, Clarke wrote: "At the present rate of progress, it is almost impossible to imagine any technical feat that cannot be achieved - if it can be achieved at all - within the next few hundred years." Was he right? I think he was. He sounds even far too optimistic with the concluding phrase "few hundred years". The rapid advances in technology, and the growing cyberspace (money database, identity database, image database, and so much and so on) seems like swallowing the whole world that surrounds us and at the same time gives existence to us. Imagine the representations of your identity in the cyberspace: you have this amount of money in this bank, which means you get this credit card and you can do this, this, and that - you can buy more oil, drive more, travel more; you can buy the latest fashion and with this you can wear a new trendy identity; you can get a visa for the US, or Australia, or France, or whatever. If you do not have this amount of money, you can't get a credit card, you can't go abroad, you can't get a mobile phone, and etc. The cyberspace draws the borders of identities, we become embryos in the cyber-Space.

8 Books About Women’s World By Women

2008-03-27T10:00:00.004+01:00

On the occassion of the International Women’s Day, I have chosen eight books that best reflect the nature of womanhood and that are penned by celebrated women writers who are concerned about the women issues worldwide.

A little note: International Women’s Day should not be understood as a day in the whole year to gift flowers to women; quite the opposite, 8 March should stand as a disturbing day, a reminder that prompts the situation of women anywhere in the world. This is the day when we should urge solutions for the unsolved problems concerning the women’s rights and conditions around the world, especially in the third world countries.
The writers mentioned here are the women, who have used their pen and courage to communicate what their sensitive souls noticed and what has passed and has been passing unnoticed by many.

1) Mrs.Dolloway by Virginia Woolf
Virginia Woolf remains to be one of the most influential feminist writers in Western Literature. Her unconventional technique of stream of consciousness serves a good deal in entering the mind of her female protagonists. Mrs Dalloway details one day in the life of Clarissa Dalloway, who tries to arrange a party, goes out to buy flowers, encounter her old love, and go deep in her memories and thoughts. It is a marvellous account of the gulf between a woman’s inner world and her exposed self.

2) The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
The semi-autobiographical novel is an account of the protagonist's descent into mental illness paralleling Plath's own experiences with bipolar disorder, or clinical depression. Plath committed suicide a month after its first publication. The book mainly deals with the situation of women in the 1950s America, and the codes of social and moral conduct for women.

3) The Colour Purple by Alice Walker
Taking place mostly in rural Georgia, the story focuses on female African - American life during the 1930's in southern America, addressing the numerous issues in the black female life, including their exceedingly low position in black social culture. Because of the novel's sometimes-explicit content, particularly in terms of violence, it has been the frequent target of censors. It received the 1983 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and the National Book Award. It was later adapted into a film and musical of the same name.

4) The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing
This novel by the Nobel Prize winner authoress Doris Lessing is the story of writer Anna Wulf, the four notebooks in which she keeps the record of her life, and her attempt to tie them all together in a fifth, gold-colored notebook. After the opening section, ironically called "Free Women", the book fragments into Anna's four notebooks, coloured black, red, yellow, and blue, respectively. The black is for Anna's memories of her life in Central Africa, the red for her experiences with the British Communist Party; the yellow for a fiction she writes that is based on the painful ending of her own love affair; and the blue for recording her memories, dreams, and emotional life. All four notebooks and the frame narrative testify to women's struggles with the conflicts of work, sex, love, maternity, and politics.

5) Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys
The novel is a postmodern and postcolonial response to Jane Eyre, famous British novel by Charlotte Bronte. It is the story of the first Mrs Rochester, Antoinette (Bertha) Mason, a white Creole heiress, from the time of her youth in the Caribbean to her unhappy marriage and relocation to England. Caught in an oppressive patriarchal society in which she belongs neither to the white Europeans nor the black Jamaicans, Rhys' novel re-imagines Brontë's devilish madwoman in the attic. As with many postcolonial works, the novel deals largely with the themes of racial inequality and the harshness of displacement and assimilation from the perspective of women.

6) Other Side of the Mountain by Erendiz Atasü
This novel, which features the aspects of matrilineage, tells the story of three generation of women in the time of the foundation of Turkey and Turkish reforms. Parallel to its historical context, it narrates the modernisation process from the perspective of women, their adventure of integration to the new modernised Turkish society. That the story develops in three generations of women help the readers to see what sudden differences the period brought to the woman identity.

7) Memoirs of Halide Edib by Halide Edip Adivar
Halide Edib (1882-1964) was one of Turkey's leading feminists in the Young Turk and early Republican period. In Memoirs, Edib's account of her private life provides a unique example of a woman's individual and personal struggle for emancipation and gender equality. Halide Edip is best known as a Turkish novelist, political activist, and feminist. She lived through the period about which Erendiz Atasü was writing in her abovementioned novel. Halide Edip is maybe the most important and authentic woman in the Turkish modernisation and Turkey’s foundation. Yet, what makes Halide Edib a motif related to feminism should be evaluated within its historical context - nationalist struggle of independence, which required women to step out of their private space and go to the front, entitled them equality before the law, yet forced them back into their own private spaces at the dawn of the independence.

8) The Bastard of Istanbul by Elif Shafak
An ardent feminist, Elif Shafak populates her novel with women characters of varied nature. This is a book in which women play the central role. An exuberant, dramatic novel that features vigorous, unforgettable female characters, the novel explores issues of gender and cultural identity as well as addressing contemporary political and religious topics in Turkey. When this novel was published in Turkey, Shafak was accused of insulting Turkish identity. The charges were later dropped, and now readers can discover for themselves this bold and powerful tale, one that confirms its author as a rising star of fiction.

Maestro morte.... Lamentiamo...

2007-09-08T15:23:00.002+02:00

In memoriam maestro Luciano Pavarotti...

Nessun Dorma

Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!
Tu pure, o, Principessa,
nella tua fredda stanza,
guardi le stelle
che fremono d'amore
e di speranza.

Ma il mio mistero e chiuso in me,
il nome mio nessun sapra!
No, no, sulla tua bocca lo diro
quando la luce splendera!

Ed il mio bacio sciogliera il silenzio
che ti fa mia!

(Il nome suo nessun sapra!...
e noi dovrem, ahime, morir!)

Dilegua, o notte!
Tramontate, stelle!
Tramontate, stelle!
All'alba vincero!
vincero, vincero!

***

Kimse uyumuyor bu gece, kimse uyumamalı
Sen de tatlı prenses
Soğuk odanda
Yıldızları izlemektesin
Aşkan ve umuttan titremekte ışıkları.

Benimse saklı içimde sırrım
Kimse bilmeyecek adımı
Hayır, hayır ! sadece senin dudaklarına fısıldayacağım onu
Gün ışığı içeri süzülürken !

Ve öpüşlerim bölecek
Seni benim kılan sessizliği !

(Kimse bilmeyecek adımı
Ve biz ölmek zorunda kalacağız !)

Git ey gece! Sönün yıldızlar! Sönün ! Şafakta kazanacağım ! Kazanacağım, kazanacağım !

İtalyanca'dan çeviri: Aslı Özgen

Ithaca

2007-08-12T21:50:00.003+02:00

Ithaca’ya yelken açtığında,

Uzun olsun yolun,

Macera ve bilgi dolu.

Korkayım deme sakın

Ne Lestrygonianlar ne Kikloplar,

Ne de kızgın Poseidon’dan:

Çıkamazlar yoluna onlar, duramazlar karşında

Eğer rahat tutarsan içini,

Tatlı bir duygu okşamaktaysa, bedenini ve zihnini.

Lestrygonianlar, Kikloplar,

Veya acımasız Poseidon çıkmayacaktır yoluna,

Ruhunda yer yoksa onlar gibisine,

Eğer ruhun izin vermezse onlarla karşılaşmana.

Uzun tut yolunu sen.

Düşün, sıcak yaz sabahlarında

İçin heyecan ve mutlulukla kıpır kıpırken

Ilk defa gördüğün limanlara yanaşacaksın;

Fenike pazarlarında oyalanacak,

Güzel kumaşlar, ipekler satın alacaksın,

Büyük inciler, mercanlar, kehribar ve abanozlar serilecek önüne,

Aklını başından alan parfümler bulacaksın,

Ve hayal edebildiğinden de çok parfüm alacaksın;

Mısır kentlerinde dolaşacak,

Bilgelerle karşılaşacak, öğrenecek ve öğreneceksin.

Ama Ithaca hep aklında olacak.

Oraya ulaşmak hep en önemli amacın olacak.

Ama acele ediyim deme sakın.

Bırak, onlarca yıl sürsün bu yolculuk;

Yaşlandığında demir at adana,

Yolda kazandığın onca şeyle birlikte,

Ithaca’nın sana bir zenginlik sunmasını beklemeden.

Ithaca, sana güzel bir yolculuk verdi.

O olmasaydı, asla çıkamazdın yola.

Artık sana verecek birşeyi yok Ithaca’nın.

Şimdi eğer aciz görüyorsan onu, Ithaca sana ihanet ettiğinden değil.

Yolculuğun ve tecrübelerinin verdiği bilgelikle anlamalısın,

Anlamış olmalısın ‘Ithaca’lar ne demektir...

şiir: Kavafis
çeviri: Aslı Özgen

Geç kalmanın metafiziği: Ulus Baker için..

2007-08-07T15:55:00.001+02:00

Gilles Deleuze, zamandan konuşmanın mümkün olmadığını söylediğinde, “şimdi”nin kaypaklığından çıkmıştı yola. “Şimdi”den konuşmak, “şimdi”yi kavramak imkansızdır, çünkü “şimdi” farkına vardığımız an, geçmişe gömülür.

Ulus Baker, 12 Temmuz günü geçmişe gömüldü. Benim için küllerinden doğdu. Mecaz yapmıyorum. Onu hayatıma sokan ne yazık ki ölüm haberi oldu. Köşe bucak izini sürerken, yüzümü gizlemek, görünmez olmak istedim. Onun varlığından haberdar olamayışımın, onu tanıyamadan ellerimden kayıp gidişinin utancı vardı gözlerimde. Oysa Baker, hep olur ya, sadece bir nefes uzakmış benden... Elimi uzatsam oradaymış; ama her neyse körebenin kolları o yönü yoklamamış. Az yaklaşmış, eli Deleuze’e çarpmış, Spinoza’dan beride Ulus’a dokunamamış...

Kıbrıs’ta bulunduğum son 11 ay boyunca, ilk defa bu atmosferin anlamlı bir esintisi olduğunu bana hissettirdi Ulus. Onun annesi, Kıbrıslı Türk kadın şair Pembe Marmara; babası ise adanın en tanışmış psikiyatrlarından Sedat Baker’di. Kıbrıs’ta, orada, burada, şurada, farklı köşelerde Ulus’un parmak izleri var gibiydi. Düşünceli ve sorgulayan gözlerinden çıkan bir ateş, sigarasından bir nefes salınıyor olmalı Afrodit’in adasında.

Tanıl Bora, Ulus’un “Kendi fizikî varlığını hesaba katmayan, bahse konu etmeyen, sâfî Intellect gibi” olduğunu söylerken bunun “Kendisinin, fizikî varlığının sorumluluğunu almamasının görünüşü” olduğunu vurgular. Necmi Erdoğan da benzer bir duyguyu ifade ederken, Ulus’un “kendi bedenini Deleuze'ün deyişiyle ‘organsız beden’ gibi başsız sonsuz bir akış, serbest bir yoğunluk, göçebe bir tekillik, taşlaşmamış bir üretkenlik şeklinde” kurmuş olmasından bahseder. “Tıpkı Deleuze'ün ‘organsız beden’i gibi ‘sınırlanmasına’, akışının ‘kesilmesine’, müdahale edilmesine karşı durduğu için sağlıkla ilgili baskılara direndi”ğini düşünür Necmi Erdoğan.

Descartes’ın kartezyen ikilik ile ortaya attığı günden bu yana düşünce sistemimizi biçimlendiren ruh-beden ikiliğine karşı duran sayılı postmodern figürlerden biri olarak çıkıyor karşımıza Ulus. Her zaman “sağlıklı” olmanın “normal”, “bedenine iyi bakmayı reddetmenin” de “tuhaf” karşılandığı bu gelenek, bugün “beden” kavramının yarattığı tüm çağrışımlar açısından sorgulanmakta.

Ulus, felsefeyi yaşıyor, onu içselleştiriyordu... Bir yazısında dediği gibi felsefeyi, onu sadece kendi alanında uygulamaktan uzak gören ve Burjuva ikiyüzlülüğüne denk düşen “Batı pragmatizmi” çerçevesinde algılamıyor; yaşıyordu. Felsefelerini hayatlarının bir ölçüsü ve ritmi haline getirmeyi başaran Spinoza ve Nietzsche gibi, Ulus da Deleuze'ün bu felsefecileri tanımlamak için kullandığı, "kamusal" değil "özel" filozoflar kapsamına girebilir miydi?

1960 yılında Leningrad’ta dünyaya gelen Ulus, Dostoyeski’nin gri kentinde doğmuş olmayı da benzer biçimde içselleştirmişti. Şöyle diyordu bir yazısında: “diyelim ki bu Rus insanını biraz da kaderini paylaşarak daha iyi tanıma şansım oldu”. Bu toprakların halkı, tarihi, felsefecileri ve üstatları hakkında imrenilecek bilgiye ve fikre sahip Ulus’un Dostoyevski ve Tarkovski üzerine makalesi, Rus sanatının bu iki duayenini nasıl özümsediğinin basit bir resmi olarak çıkıyor karşımıza.

Bu yazısında cevabı hazır olan sorulara değinyor Ulus, Dostoyevski’den hep alıntılanan o “Tanrı yoksa her şey mubahtır” sözünden hareketle. Öteki türlü söylemeyi deneyelim: Her şeyin mubah olduğu bir toplumda, Tanrı ölmüş olmalıdır. Yani cevap sorudan önce vardır ve Dostoyevski bunu bu şekilde ifade etmiştir. Ulus, Godard’tan örnek verir netleştirmek için: "demek ki ölmemişim, çünkü bütün hayatım bir film şeridi gibi gözlerimin önünden geçmedi." Ulus, bu tür Cogito’lara “kapalı soru” der.

Ulus’un yaşamı, bedeni ve zihni, tüm göstergeleriyle, postmodernizmin o sorgulayan tavrının bir göstereni gibiydi. Ersan Ocak, yazısında “onun yaptığının bir düşünce-duygu dokumacılığı olduğunu” düşündüğünden bahseder; “Aynı meseleyi her yeniden ele alışında farklı desenler dokuyan yaratıcı bir usta”... Deleuze ve Guattari’nin “rizom”u gibi; ilişkiler yumağı halinde, birbirini dürten, kavuşup kavuşup çözülen ve oradan bambaşka bir ontolojiye filiz veren bir bütünsellik ve etkileşim yumağı.

Bir tür “açık soru” Ulus’un deyimiyle, cevabı önceden hazır olmayan cinsten... Bizi hayrete düşürmeyi hedefleyen, cevaplanmayı değil hissedilmeyi bekleyen bir soru cümlesi gibi Ulus’un yaşamı. Deleuze'ün tanımıyla "şeylerin ortasından", birdenbire türeyen, neredeyse amaçsız; ama sormayan, söyleyen ve anlatan sorular.

City of one thousand lights: Birmingham

2007-06-22T09:28:00.001+02:00

As our plane descends, our sight is enchanted by the enormous green fields that encircle the city of Birmingham. Situated in the West-Midlands region of England, Birmingham lies at such a position that it almost holds the centre of what is known as the ‘historic heart of England’, where traces of many a medieval town still remain. This quality offers the city a different kind of importance, for the thrill it offers with its gorgeous shopping centres is doubled with the journey it offers into the depths of Britain’s history.
Birmingham is considered to be the second largest city of England. It has a big airport and an efficient railway web, which makes it quite easy to get around. As we leave the airport, we take the first train to the city centre. We are planning to have a quick look at the city, to breathe its unique air. The following day will see a high-rhythm tour of the city. I would like to remind you that there are three big railway stations at the city centre. This may give you an idea about the tourist flow and size of the city.

Unjust promotional campaign
Birmingham is mainly famous for being an industrial city. The city's reputation was strengthened as a powerhouse of the Industrial Revolution in Britain. The city was referred to as "the workshop of the world" or the "city of a thousand trades". Today, nothing so old or historic is observable at the city centre. For today's Birmingham is chiefly a product of the 18th, 19th, and 20th centuries, as its real growth began with the Industrial Revolution.
Mainly Birmingham is marked with being the centre of bubbling nightlife and scintillating shopping. However, this seems to me a monocular way of promoting the city as there is so much in Birmingham both historically and artistically. Not to mention the 17th and 18th century houses scattered around the city; museums in Birmingham boast an elite selection of paintings ranging from those of Rubens, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Monet, Renoir, Degas, and René Magritte. Housing also a science museum, botanical gardens and jewellery quarter; Birmingham is home to two famous football clubs: Aston Villa and Birmingham City. The famous City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, a prominent orchestra worldwide-acknowledged for their memorable performances, offers you an unforgettable soirée of classical music in the gorgeous Symphony Hall. You may get a chance to watch one of the amazing performances of Birmingham Royal Ballet. In brief, Birmingham has something to offer for every taste.

Victoria Square: the heart of the city
We head for the Victoria Square, which is one of the most vibrant places in the city centre. Crowned with the Victorian-style architecture of Birmingham City Council on one side and Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery on the other, the square is adorned with Dhruva Mistry's sculpture, 'The River'. Everyone is very relaxed in this square, either sunbathing, having a break, taking a drink, or watching spontaneous dance and music shows held in the open space. Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery boasts having the largest collection of Pre-Raphealite art in the world. Do not overlook this experience!
One of the most beautiful buildings in the city centre, Birmingham Cathedral is very close to Victoria Square. I do not want to turn back to the hotel without seeing the four famous Pre-Raphaelite stained-glass windows by Sir Edward Burne-Jones.
Another thing to do before going to the hotel is of course stopping by a pub and drink beer. A tiring day of a long flight can only be celebrated with a lazy ending. Leaving the Victoria Square behind, we head for Brindley Place, a popular waterfront location combining restaurants, bars, cafés and shops. This is the right place for many people who wish to have good food in a pleasant atmosphere. We stop here and sip our drinks taking delight from the enchanting sight of the canal.

Historic heritage of Birmingham
As there is a lot to see in Birmingham, we leave our hotel early in the morning and head for an exceptional experience: Blakesley Hall. This is a 17th century house, still preserving its Tudor style. Delightfully restored, this handsome timber-framed Yeoman farmer’s house is one of the last surviving examples of its kind in Birmingham. Conveniently decorated to reflect the life-style of its time, the house opens a gate into the world of the Tudors. The wood flooring, oak-tree furnishings, painted wall hangings, and specially-designed settings in the rooms promise an unforgettable journey into the past. What is more, Blakesley Hall is set in landscaped grounds with a beautiful herb garden, which supply the owners with various herbs for pharmaceutical purposes, and an orchard.
Another experience of the Tudors is Selly Manor which is home to a stunning collection of furniture dating from 1500 to 1750.
Leaving the enchanting atmosphere of Tudor homes behind, we head for Sarehole Mill, which is rumoured to have provided early inspiration to J.R.R. Tolkien, the author of ‘Lord of the Rings’. A part of the official Tolkien Trail, Sarehole Mill is the only working watermill in Birmingham. The mill we see today was built in the 18th century; however historic evidence shows that there has been a mill on the site since 1542. Sarehole Mill houses various displays of agricultural implements and industrial machinery. Besides, it is located in the exquisite Shire Country Park, which is haven for birds and all kinds of wildlife. If you have the time, a stroll in the park might be relaxing and peaceful.
If you would like to make the most of Birmingham, you need to be on your feet. Fortunately, you can access most places by using the in-city buses.
Our next stop is Soho House. This elegant home once belonged to the industrial pioneer Matthew Boulton, who lived here from 1766 to 1809. This splendid house was the meeting place of Lunar Society – the greatest thinkers and scientists of the age. To much of our dismay, the owner of the house, Boulton, was also an artisan. His works, ranging from silver to ormolu, coins and cut steel are on display at the Soho House. As we walk along the rooms, richly decorated, the house manifests itself like a work of art.
There is the advantage of seeing a high-fashioned Jacobean house in Birmingham; and if you have never seen one before, you must head for Aston Hall. This house dates back to 1618 and boasts of unimaginably beautiful plasterwork, ceilings and exquisite friezes, a magnificent carved oak staircase and a spectacular Long Gallery. The textiles, furniture and paintings are a distinct pleasure to look at.
As the sun sets out to wane, we prepare our minds for a romantic evening and head for the canal to take a boat tour along. Just beside the Brindley Place, there are many boats moored waiting to take passengers on a sweet cruise along the canal. I think it is the best thing to do in order to relax after a tiring day, before hitting the shops.
As our boat sails on accompanied by ducks by the canal, we are charmed by the reflection of cloudy skies on the water.

Unlimited shopping
There is no limit to shopping in Birmingham. The main street where the shops are located and people flock all day long is New Street. You may find expensive and chic shops side-by-side with the moderate ones. This means shopping for everyone! If you are not yet a shopaholic on your way to Birmingham, you will become one!
Besides moderate shopping centres such as Pallasades and Mailbox, Birmingham has one of the biggest shopping centres in Europe: Bullring. Built at a cost of over £500 million, Bullring brings over 26 football pitches worth of shops, boutiques and restaurants into the centre of town. Situated just at the opposite of the medieval church of St. Martin, Bullring creates a unique effect with its striking contemporary architecture.

Rubens, locomotives and precious gems
Another day in Birmingham must be devoted to museums. Fascinating with its rich collection ranging from Rubens, Gainsborough, Turner and Rossetti to Monet, Renoir, Degas, Van Gogh, Picasso, and Magritte; the Barber Institute of Fine Arts should not be overlooked. Besides key paintings, the institute also offers a regular programme of exhibitions and concerts.
A must-visit museum is Think-tank science museum in Birmingham, renowned as an industrial city. This is a truly modern museum where visitors can investigate everything from locomotives and space travel to intestines and robots. I highly recommend you to take a tour of the night sky in the amazing digital planetarium. It is a matchless experience.
Seductive with the name for the ladies, the Jewellery Quarter is a unique area, which dates back to 250 years. Home to 400 jewellery businesses, the quarter has been described by English Heritage as a unique historic environment in England which has few, if any, parallels in Europe. Visitors should not miss a visit to the Museum of the Jewellery Quarter, based in an old jewellery factory. You can take a guided tour and learn about the history of the gems and the craft of jewellery making. Do not be afraid to shop in the Jewellery Quarter. One cannot help it anyway while surrounded by exclusive and elegant examples of handcrafted jewellery! Unexpectedly, the prices are competitive and affordable for an everlasting souvenir that will mark your Birmingham trip.
England is blessed with miles long green fields, which is a feast to the eyes and the soul. Birmingham is no exception. However, one must not leave without visiting the huge Botanical Garden & Glasshouse and Birmingham Nature Centre. Housing finest collection of plants in the Midlands, Botanical Garden is fifteen acres wide. The four glasshouses situated within contain a wide array of exotic and economic flora. On the other hand, Birmingham Nature Centre is home to over 130 species of animals, including the amazing red pandas, meerkats, guinea pigs, owls, snakes and lizards. Great fun for children is at hand in this environment.

Sweet world of Cadbury
Another children attraction is without doubt the Cadbury World. Here you can enjoy the taste of Cadbury’s chocolate and discover its history and origins. Packed with chocolate, information and fun, an unmatchable experience awaits young and adult alike in the world of Cadbury.
As we step in the magical world of Cadbury, we are taken to Aztec Forests where the story of chocolate begins in the 600 AD. Travelling back through the centuries to the time of the Mayan Indians and the Aztecs, we walk through their forests and witness how cocoa became central to their way of life. We discover who was responsible for bringing the secret of chocolate to Europe. Then we meet Mr. John Cadbury who initiated the Cadbury today. He and his sons tell us about the story of how their family business developed. Next step is more and maybe the most thrilling one: How Cadbury chocolate is made. It is impossible not to be enchanted as we see the appetizing liquid chocolate pouring slowly. A peerless experience and a must for visitors of Birmingham...

City where the Renaissance never ends

2007-06-22T09:21:00.001+02:00

As our plane approaches Florence, the city is visible from above for a brief instant. Displaying the city structure common to the Middle Ages, the city seems like a star from above. There is a grand square at the city centre where all roads end, and a majestic cathedral rises amongst scarlet roofs...
In fact it has been some time since I returned from Florence. Ever since it touched my life with its magic wand, I cannot take it off my mind. If you ever breathe in Florence, ever got lost in its streets with the sounds of cello, watched city-folk all night long sitting on the stairs of Santa Maria del Fiore, took a walk on Ponte Vecchio accompanied by a wave of wine fragrances, it means your life has already changed.
The odour of this city will never leave you alone... And nothing is going to be like it was before.

The capital city of Renaissance
When I landed in Peretola Airport, the sun was not yet down. I already marked the house I was going to stay on the map: it was in Piazza Beccaria, the east end of the historical city of Florence. Taking a cab, I enter the streets of the city.
This is Florence - narrow streets, centennial buildings, a secret of art piece in every corner. I am not attracted at all by the modern city around the old city with wide streets and grand buildings.
While the night is falling on the crimson tile roofs of the city, a glare floods inside the taxi cab: Santa Maria del Fiore. This monumental Duomo’s magnificence is breathtaking when flushed with lights at night.
Divided by Arno River, Florence is the capital city of Renaissance. Raised many a renowned artist in its bosom such as Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Botticelli and Dante, Florence is a privileged city dominated by the spirit of art.
As we arrive at Piazza Beccaria, I enter the 200 year old building, an old mansion divided into flats for modern use. I am going up to the top floor using the newly-added elevator inside a net. My flat is a small one opening onto a cute flowery courtyard, in which noisy Italian clamour echoes in the day time. Looking from the window at the lights of the city, I dream I will embrace Florence in the morning. Only a few hours later, I say to myself, to calm my excitement.

City tour
In the old city of Florence, it is easy to get around on foot. In any case most of the streets are too narrow for car access. Even the Municipality of Florence has very small buses to cruise around the narrow streets. Streets are so narrow that these buses warn pedestrians with constant signals.
My advice is a comprehensive Florence tour, which relies strictly on foot. Comprehensive yet not exhaustive, this is going to be a tour into the heart of Florence; breathing the mildewy air of the city reminding one of the scent of old books, feasting your eyes on Renaissance-masterpiece buildings, getting into the cityfolk and joining them.
The first point I will visit is Dante’s house, the poet whom I admire. Thus first I have to go through the San Giovanni Square where the city’s cathedral Santa Maria del Fiore Duomo stands. Hardly conceivable that it has been built by human power, this is the fifth greatest cathedral in the world. The Duomo has the fingerprints of the most famous architects and artists. For instance; the great dome was built by the architect genius Brunelleschi; its campanile was erected by a pioneer of Renaissance, Giotto; frescoes were coloured by Leonardo da Vinci’s master Verocchio. Duomo’s exterior bedecked with green and pink marbles peculiar to Toscana. Santa Maria del Fiore means ‘Mary of the Flowers’. Duomo, as might have been expected, was dedicated to Virgin Mary. Over the entrance door there is a statue of Virgin Mary on one side and a statue of Gabriel holding a lily, a symbol for innocence, on the other. Thus, the scene of “the Annunciation”, and of the most significant pieces of Christian iconography... Annunciation is the scene where Gabriel delivers the word of God to Mary, announcing her that the baby she is carrying is the Christ-child. The composition over the entrance of the Duomo places the word of God above the door; hence every-comer is blessed while entering the church.
The plans and drawings about the construction of Duomo, the machinery used, and most of the artworks collected from the interior are exhibited in the museum ‘Museo dell’Opera del Duomo’, situated just behind the Duomo.
The hexagonal structure before Duomo, is the baptistery, built over the traces of a Roman sanctuary. Believed to be the oldest heritage in Florence, the interior of the baptistery is covered with golden granoliths. Dedicated to Saint John the Baptist, the baptistery features three bronze doors, illustrating the life of the saint. These works of art were completed in 21 years by the Ghiberti. Thousands of tourists flock to the baptistery everyday both to see the granoliths and the doors. By the way, the original door panels are exhibited at ‘Museo dell’Opera del Duomo’.

Tracing the Divine Poet
Suddenly I find myself standing in front of Dante’s house, situated at an intersection of narrow streets. With its garden, gate latchers and structure, the house stands just like it was 650 years before. The impact is so strong that it feels like the divine poet would appear at the door and say, ‘prepare my horse’. The small church, just before the house, is the church where the Poet married Gemma Donati. The interior of the church is bedecked with pictures representing scenes from the Poet’s life. Lighting a candle in memory of my beloved Dante I leave the church...
As much as Renaissance, Florence reminds one of the patrons of Renaissance, the Medici Family. Ruling in Florence from the 13th to 17th century, the Medici family are renowned for their patronage in arts. Many eminent artists such as Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Rafaello, Masaccio, Botticelli were patronized by the Medici Family. You may still feel the spirit of the Medici dominating the city. Structures such as Palazzo Vecchio, Palazzo Pitti, Giardino di Boboli, Palazzo Medici, Uffizi, Ponte Vecchio, Capelle Medicee are heritages of the Medici Family in the city of Florence. Moving into Brunelleschi-design Palazzo Pitti, after taking sojourn for many years in Palazzo Vecchio, the Medici had Boboli Gardens built behind their grandiose palace, equal in beauty to the Gardens of Versailles. Florence City State’s administrative centre, Uffizi today serves as a museum harbouring enchanting works of Italian art. Today a market place for romantic evening walks, Ponte Vecchio was originally constructed for Medici Family members to walk from Uffizi to the Palazzo Pitti, situated on the other side of the river, without mingling with the people.

Michelangelo
Constructed for the burial of Medici Family members Capelle Medicee, is both a splendid mausoleum and a museum with a rich collection of holy relics. Michelangelo’s famous allegories; Night, Day, Dawn and Dusk, are also located in the Medici Chapels.
Michelangelo’s noted sculpture of David is in Florence as well. While a copy of the sculpture stands before Palazzo Vecchio, the original piece is exhibited at Galleria dell’Accademia. Most of the statues from Michelangelo’s ‘Prigioni’ series are also exhibited in Galleria dell’Accademia. ‘Prigioni’ (Prisoners) series feature semi- and raw figures coming out of the marble block. Let the question be discussed whether these pieces are incomplete or Michelangelo consciously left them incomplete, the significant thing is what he thought: Michelangelo believed that each marble block hid a figure. According to him, the sculptor should set this figure free. Prigioni embody the ideas of their creator.
Galleria dell’Accademia features a rich collection of Italian artists. In the small building behind the main building, there is also an instrument museum belonging to Luigi Cherubini Conservatory.

Florence at dusk
The best thing to do in Florerence at sunset is to watch the city from above while supping your wine at Piazzale Michelangelo. Pray do not get it wrong, Piazzale Michelangelo is not a luxury restaurant, looking over the city. Instead, it is a large panoramic square on one of the small hills around the old city. Make sure you do not forget to take a bottle of wine with you, as you set out to climb this gorgeous square.
In order to reach Piazzale Michelangelo, you need to depart from Piazza della Signoria, marked by Palazzo Vecchio, towards Arno. Passing along Ufizzi, you need to cross on Ponte alle Grazie on the left.
It is possible to get up the hill, covered with beautiful flora, both by following the road or using stairs built for pedestrians. This is a cosy square where people potter putter modestly, children rush and skate, colourful vans sell Italian ice cream. As the sun goes down all the monuments of Florence come to the scene. Major part played by Duomo; Palazzo Vecchio, Badia Fiorentina and Santa Croce in the supporting roles.
The sine qua non of a Florence tour is visiting the museums and seeing as many works of Italian art as possible. Besides the national museums like Ufizzi, Galleria dell’Accademia, Palazzo Vecchio, Bargello, Museo dell’Opera del Duomo; churches and palaces boast important works of art no less than museums.
Marking the first scene in the ‘Decameron’ of Boccaccio, the Church of Santa Maria Novella displays unique samples of gothic and early Renaissance art. Santa Croce Church houses Galilee’s and Michelangelo’s tombs. San Miniato al Monte Church, situated on the heights of the city just like Piazzale Michelangelo, showcases Luca della Robbia’s works, ceramic master of the Middle Ages.

Ice cream, music and entertainment alla Italiana
Besides a rich artistic heritage as the city of Renaissance, Florence has a vital social life. You may have the chance to get delighted with amateur street performances at Piazza della Repubblica while you are having your ice cream. Florence is adorned with music at every corner. While wandering along the streets, the melodies of Vivaldi or gypsies accompany your walk, putting butterflies in your stomach.
One of the tourist-ridden places of summer nights is the front side of Uffizi Museum. This rectangle square is mostly stage to concerts, plays or dance performances. If you pass through Ponte Vecchio by chance, you can enjoy the lights of Florence with the melodies of the street singer, who is much like a phenomenon playing his guitar on the bridge for many years now. Or you might get into a crowd in front of Santa Maria del Fiore and enjoy a romantic Italian night under the lights of the Duomo.
Florence is situated in Toscana region, the heart of Italy. Famous for its rich and nutritious flora and fauna, Toscana is the perfect place to taste the Italian cuisine. Piazza della Signoria houses a number of pizza restaurants, with a beautiful view and affordable prices. However, if you think sitting and eating is a waste of time while there is a lot to see; you may find take-away pizza eateries on Via dei Calzaiuoli or Via Roma.
Although the capital of Italian fashion is known as Milano, there are also classy shops in Florence. Generally concentrated around Duomo, shops not only sell stylish garments, but also fascinating house decoration products. Shopaholics, especially for the Italian wonder shoes should spare a special budget.
While walking along on the streets of Florence, I can feel why this city has been the flower of arts for ages. Today a new Renaissance is at hand in the streets of Florence, the beautiful capital of culture, shaped in the hands of artists. Despite its artistic sway, Florence does not have frowning eyebrows and is absolutely not clumsy. Students flocking all over the world to Florence to study arts and design, carry the enthusiasm and dynamism of the Renaissance to present.

Don’t leave without...
• Watching the city above at Piazzale Michelangelo
• Visiting the worlds fifth greatest cathedral Santa Maria del Fiore
• Getting up to the campanile of Giotto
• Tasting Italian style ice cream
• Getting high with guitar melodies at Ponte Vecchio
• Visiting Uffizi, where works of da Vinci, Botticelli, Michelangelo, Caravaggio and many more are exhibited.

The Goddess of Beauty and Love: Aphrodite Cypridis

2007-05-30T15:43:00.001+02:00

Born out of foams in the Mediterranean Sea, the goddess of beauty and love Aphrodite was attracted to the land of Cyprus to put her gentle feet on. Today, thousand years past alike, Cyprus is recognised as home to Aphrodite. This article searched the footsteps and the exalted spirit of the goddess across the island.

Across Cyprus, numerous temples or sacred sites devoted to the goddess Aphrodite would enliven with the rise of spring. As the spring fairy Persophene breathed the spring putting flowers in bloom, every girl used to make a pilgrimage to the sanctuary of the goddess for marriage rites ‘to invoke the goddess within’. Exquisitely dressed priestesses of the goddess would welcome the girls in the sacred gardens surrounding the temple. A man would throw an offering at the feet of his preferred pilgrim whereupon the sacred intercourse was performed.
This sort of ritual and offerings actually have deeper roots than Hellenistic culture. The figure of a mother goddess responsible for procreation dates back to matriarchal era when women were considered holy and mysterious due to the inexplicable act of conception.
Standing at the crossroads of Europe, facing the Asia Minor and the Middle East, Cyprus was a kind of ‘melting pot’ of the ancient world comprising many civilisations on its bosom.
Chronologically Mycenaeans, Achaeans, Phoenicians, Assyrians, Egyptians, Persians, Romans, Crusaders, Venetians, Ottomans and British have all passed by bringing their own customs, religion, and art necessarily changing the current, adapting to or coexisting with it.
An exhibition held in New York in the year 2003 entitled “From Ishtar to Aphrodite” revealed this fact with artefacts discovered around the sanctuaries or graves in Cyprus. These artefacts including grave offerings, vases, bowls, and figurines contributed our conception of the ancient cosmopolitan character of Cyprus as a melting pot. The exhibition proved that various styles of burial traditions coexisted even within short distances.
The figures generally represented a mother goddess of fertility and balance, suggesting an antecedent persona of Aphrodite, brought to the island by Mesopotamian tribes of matriarchal order. Remembering the “Epic of Gilgamesh” will give us the initial clue to start searching the traces of the goddess Aphrodite the Cypriot. A Mesopotamian epic, also the oldest written work of literature, Gilgamesh introduces the goddess of love, Ishtar, aka Inanna.

Origins of the goddess
The cult of the “goddess of love” was actually brought to the island by Phoenecians, who used to name her Inanna, Ishtar or after an Egyptian goddess Astarte. She is called the goddess of the Morning and Evening Star. She presides over the birth of both night and day. Next to her is the sacred star sign of brilliant Venus, symbol of both death and rebirth.
The winged goddess could move freely between the world of the death and that of living. Thus, she is also the goddess of balance. Among her many other titles, Ishtar is the goddess of love and procreation. Sacred marriage rites were performed at New Year. Not to forget that this “new year” is not what we understand today under the imposition of Christianity. The new year in the pagan world started with the wake of nature, that is Spring. The blessings of Ishtar were sought to insure fertility in the month of May when nature was in flourish.
Another interesting fact is that the nature of Ishtar reflects the peaceful Phoenecian society in which she developed. All the other goddesses of the Near East and Greek world wore armour, except Ishtar, or later Aphrodite. Thus, it is time for you to stop and think the famous saying of modern novelist Virginia Woolf: “to fight has always been the man’s habit, not the woman’s”.

Aphrodite as Ishtar’s successor
This goddess image, the Greek confronted on their journeys to the island was rather interesting due to its “different” nature. Living in a world of male dominancy, the Greek were conquered with the peaceful image of the goddess, a holy figure of love and fertility.
Not unwillingly, the Greek adopted the image of the goddess bringing her back to the island in a few centuries later in full Hellenistic disguise. This is clear considering many similarities that exist between the attributes of the goddesses.
Isthar was called the “Queen of Heaven” while Aphrodite was given the name “Urania”, meaning “celestial” or “heavenly”. Isthar is described as having wings and Aphrodite travels always on the back of winged animals such as doves or geese. Moreover, marriage rites were held in the temples of the both goddesses in the wake of spring. One of the most noticeable parallels in their myths is Aphrodite’s lover, the vegetation god Adonis and his counterpart in Babylonian mythology, Ishtar’s lover Tammuz.

The Mythical “birth”
Necessarily, the fact that Aphrodite was brought from Mesopotamia to Greece by way of Cyprus was reinforced in literature as Aphrodite’s mythical “home” is Cyprus.
The birth of Aphrodite, apart from its logical historical roots, is related as a marvellous phenomenon revealing the astonishment of the Greek before the sacred image of the goddess. The scene inspired artists all through the centuries regardless of the branch or art, movements, or countries. The magical moment was rendered in the lines of the English Romantic poet Shelley with these words:
“Look, look why shineThose floating bubbles with such light divine?They break, and from their mist a lily formRises from out the wave, in beauty warm.The wave is by the blue-veined feet scarce press'd,Her silky ringlets float about her breast,Veiling its fairy loveliness, while her eyeIs soft and deep as the heaven is high.The Beautiful is born; sea and earthMay well revere the hour of that mysterious birth.”
The word “Aphrodite” means “the foam-born” in Greek. The myth tells us that Cronus (representing time), the son of Uranus (the skies), castrates him and throws his genitals into the sea, which later turn into the foam giving birth to Aphrodite. This myth explains her attributes as goddess of love, marriage, childbirth; and her Roman title as “Venus” which is mentioned above to symbolize death and life.
Coming back to the myth again, the goddess Aphrodite was carried to the shores of Cyprus on a shell by the breath of Zephyr, the west wind, and Chloris, his wife the breeze of spring. The shores that Aphrodite was carried on her shell by the winds Zephyr and Chloris are claimed to be Petra Tou Romiou bearing a noticeable endemic flora on its bosom or the long golden beach at the Karpaz Peninsula with a fantastic scene. Comparing the likeliness of both of these sites to the painting by the Italian painter Botticelli, “The Birth of Venus”, most famous of representations. But it is still another question, whether the painting reveals the photographic truth or simply an allegoric representation of the myth of Aphrodite’s birth.

Footsteps of the goddess on the isle
It is presumed that there were many a number temples or sacred sites across Cyprus devoted to the goddess. One of these used to stand at the very northern tip of the island dominating the blue waters of the Mediterranean that bore the goddess, while another was built at Palea Pafos.
As previously mentioned, in the old days, with the rise of the spring, every girl used to make a pilgrimage to the sanctuary of the goddess for marriage rites and ‘to invoke the goddess within’. Amphorae and ceremonial bowls collected from these sites depict exquisitely dressed priestesses in some scenes from these ceremonies, which are in some sense erotic.
Aphrodite is generally called as Aphrodite Urania, or Celestial Aphrodite to refer her attributes of pure and spiritual love. An ancient site named “Urania” stands on the Karpaz Peninsula today exposing a few remains. Ruins of an ancient marina, tombs, and a fortress are left from the glorious city of Urania, aka Aphendrika, which was one of the six major towns in Cyprus in the 3rd century BC.
Visiting this site will give you the opportunity to imagine yourself in one of the towns built most probably in the name of the goddess. A similar delight is hidden in the face of the fragile beauty in Botticelli’s painting or in the elusive but strong image of the woman portrayed by Dali.
On the other hand, not to forget to remind that it was still Aphrodite to make Paris and Helen fall in love and prepare the scene for the Trojan War. The peaceful spirit of Ishtar, Inanna, Astarte embodied in the image of one goddess, the Cyprus-born, foam-born, Aphrodite Cypridis.

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Aphrodite in art
The birth of Aphrodite was frequently pictured throughout the ages should it be on the face of a vase, or a big painting. She is mostly represented sitting or riding birds or geese.
The most famous work of art concerning the goddess is the painting by Botticelli (1485). In this scene Aphrodite is depicted rising from the water with a rather shy and innocent expression on her face. On the upper left, Zephyr (the west wind) and Chloris (his wife, the breeze of spring) are puffing to move her shell towards the shores; while, on the right, a nymph, one of the three Horae (hours) gives Aphrodite a gorgeous robe adorned with flowers, implying her as goddess of all seasons.
Salvador Dali also painted a picture “Apparition of the Face of Aphrodite” depicting her in the lines of abstract movement.

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“And so soon as he had cut off the members with flint and cast them from the land into the surging sea, they were swept away over the main a long time: and a white foam spread around them from the immortal flesh, and in it there grew a maiden. First she drew near holy Kythera, and from there, afterwards, she came to sea-girt Kypros, and came forth an awful and lovely goddess, and grass grew up about her beneath her shapely feet. Her gods and men call Aphrodite, because she grew amid the foam.”
from Hesiod’s “Theogony”.

Tu sei come una terra

2007-05-22T12:51:00.001+02:00

Tu sei come una terra
che nessuno ha mai detto.
Tu non attendi nulla
se non la parola
che sgorgherà dal fondo
come un frutto tra i rami.
C'è un vento che ti giunge.
Cose secche e rimorte
t'ingombrano e vanno nel vento.
Membra e parole antiche.
Tu tremi nell'estate.

29 ottobre 1945
Cesare Pavese

Ölümü göreceksin ve gözlerin olacak

2007-05-22T12:48:00.004+02:00

Bir ruhun var, bir nefesin.
Etten yapılmışsın
Saçlar, bakışlar
ve sen olandan. Toprak ve nebat,
mart seması, güneş
titreşir ve sana benzer;
gülümsemen ve yürüyüşün
hırçın akışı gibidir suyun;
gözlerinin arasındaki o kırışık
toplanan bulutlar gibidir.
nazik tenin,
güneşten bir parça..

bir ruhun var bir nefesin.
Bu topraklarda yaşarsın.
Kokusunu bilirsin
Mevsimlerin uyanışını,
Güneşte oynardın,
Bizlerle konuşurdun.
Berrak su, bakir
ilkbahar, toprak,
tomurcuklanan sessizlik,
küçük bir kız çocuğuyla oynamıştın,
değişen o göğün altında,
gözlerinde sessizlik vardı,
ve sonra bir bulut, büyüyen
şimdiyse gülümsüyorsun ve akıyorsun hırçınca
bu sessizliğin altında.

Tatlı bir meyvesin
Berrak göğün altında yaşarsın,
Soluk alıp verir, yaşarsın işte
Şu bizim mevsimimizde,
Kapalı sessizliğindedir
Delişmen gücün. Tıpkı
Havaya uzanan ağaç gibi
Ürperir ve gülümsersin,
Ama sen, sen topraksın
Yırtıcı köksün.
Sen, bekleyen topraksın.

21 mart 1950
Cesare Pavese
(çeviri:Aslı Özgen)

Orhan Pamuk’un paralel dünyaları

2007-05-22T12:41:00.001+02:00

Proust kadar içe dönük, Umberto Eco kadar maceracı, Italo Calvino kadar masalsı, Joyce kadar karmaşık, Borges kadar çok yüzlü, Marquez kadar büyülü, Dante kadar gözü pek... Cannes Film Festivali’nin jürisinde yer alan Orhan Pamuk, Türkiye’de adına düzenlenen iki sempozyumla gündemdeydi...

Market ve kitapçı rafları, ‘Benim Adım Kırmızı’ ile dolup taşarken tanışmıştım Orhan Pamuk’la. Kitabın arkasındaki düşünceler, sorular ve yazılar arasında kaybolmuş hınzır bakışlı fotoğrafı, elimde tuttuğum kitabın bir şeyler değiştirebileceğini fısıldıyordu. Büyük ve kalın gözlüklerini delercesine gözlerime değen bakışları, aynı baskıdan milyonlarca olmasına rağmen, bana özel bir şey söylemeye çalışıyordu sanki: Sana anlatacağım öyle çok şey var ki...
‘Benim Adım Kırmızı’nın elimden tutup beni kapılarından geçirdiği dünya, Dante’nin macerasından daha fazlasını sunuyordu. Kişisel Virgilius’um Orhan Pamuk, beni Yeni Hayat’a sürüklüyordu. Kitapların altını çizen karakterle bu kitapta karşılaşmıştım. İlk altını çizdiğim satır bu oldu.
Sınırları bulanıklaşan gerçeklik ve rüya, birbirine geçen karakterler... Karanlık atmosfer ve yanıltıcı hafıza... Kelime oyunları ile kurulu bir paralel dünya... Babil Kitaplığı gibi karmaşık kurgular... Sessiz Ev, Beyaz Kale, Öteki Renkler, Kar... Marcel Proust kadar karanlık ve içe dönük, Umberto Eco kadar maceracı, Italo Calvino kadar masalsı, James Joyce kadar karmaşık, Borges kadar çok yüzlü, Marquez kadar büyülü, Dante kadar gözü pek Orhan Pamuk romanları, hayatımın vazgeçilmezleri arasında yerini almıştı...

Orhan Pamuk’u anlamak
Billboardlarda kitaplarının reklamı yapılan bu adama herkesin kızgın olduğu bir zamanı hatırlıyorum. Edebiyat; böyle alanlara, sokaklara taşınamaz diye karşı çıkanları. “Orhan Pamuk çok satıyor, ama çok okunmuyor” diyenleri ve “Yeni Hayat’ı eline alan 10 kişiden sadece biri sonuna kadar okuyabiliyormuş” diyen istatistikleri okudum. Orhan Pamuk dili kullanamıyor diye atıp tutanları, kültürümüzü bilmiyor diye ona saldıranları duydum... Orhan Pamuk’u anlamadıklarını çok iyi biliyordum.
Engin Kılıç’ın yayına hazırladığı ‘Orhan Pamuk’u Anlamak’ kitabı ile böyle bir zamanda karşılaşmıştım. Derlediği makaleler, yazarın o zamana kadar yayımlanan eserleri üzerine açılımlar getirmeyi hedefleyen, Orhan Pamuk’u anlayan akademisyenler tarafından, Orhan Pamuk’u anlamak isteyen insanlar için yazılmışlardı. Orhan Pamuk’u anlamak istemeyenler bu kitabı anlamadı; almadı, okumadı ve onu mahkeme salonlarına sürükleyip kitaplarını yakma cüretini bile gösterdiler.
Edebiyat camiasının Nobel’e pek rağbet etmediğini biliriz. Öyle ya vakti zamanında Sartre ödülü reddetmişti. Ancak Pamuk’u, Sartre gibi ödülü reddetmeye davet edenlerin unuttukları bir şey vardı. Fransız muhafazakârları, 1960’larda Fransa’nın Cezayir’e müdahalesini acımasızca eleştirerek şimşekleri üstüne çeken Sartre’ın tutuklanmasını istemişti Charles de Gaul’den. De Gaul’ün yanıtı kesindi: “Asla! Sarte da Fransa’nın bir yüzüdür”...
Pamuk’un Nobel’i kazanmasının ardından yapılan en yerinde yorum, bu ödülün, Türk Edebiyatı’nın uluslararası alandaki saygınlığını artıracağına dikkat çekiyordu.
Nitekim Pamuk, yedi ay sonra Cannes’da jüri olarak yerini aldı. Pamuk ile birlikte Cannes’da bir de Türkiye çıkarması oldu.

Doğum günü hediyesi
Orhan Pamuk’u hâlâ anlamak istemeyenler için umut kalmamışken, anlamak isteyenler için geçtiğimiz ay iki önemli etkinlik vardı: 11 Mayıs günü Kadir Has Üniversitesi’nde düzenlenen ‘Orhan Pamuk Edebiyatı’ başlıklı sempozyumun ardından, 14 ve 15 Mayıs tarihlerinde Boğaziçi Üniversitesi bir Orhan Pamuk sempozyumu düzenledi.
Kadir Has Üniversitesi’ndeki sempozyum, yabancı akademisyenlerin katılımıyla daha çok yazarın yabancı dildeki okumaları üzerine yoğunlaşırken; Boğaziçi Üniversitesi Murat Belge, Engin Kılıç, Jale Parla gibi Orhan Pamuk’un eserleri üzerine uzun süredir inceleme yapan ve yazarla aynı dili paylaşan akademisyenleri konuk etti. 14 Mayıs sabahı Orhan Pamuk’a fahri doktora unvanı sunulmasıyla başlayan sempozyumda, yazarın eserlerinin farklı boyutları derinlemesine incelenerek katılımcılara yeni açılımlar sağlanması amaçlandı. Orhan Pamuk’un çevirmeni Maureen Freely, her iki sempozyuma da katılarak, yazarı İngilizce konuşan ülkelere aktarma serüvenini dinleyenlerle paylaştı.
Boğaziçi Üniversitesi’ndeki törene katılmak için Amerika’dan gelen Pamuk, konuşmasında, "Kitapların korkulacak ya da imrenilmesi gereken kutsal şeyler değil, anlaşılması gereken şeyler olduğunu burada öğrendim" diyerek ‘anlaşılmak’ konusuna bir kez daha dikkat çekti.
Pamuk, 7 Haziran’da 55. doğum gününü kutlayacak. Yazarın Cannes ve İstanbul’da Mayıs ayı içinde yaşadığı coşku, ona en güzel hediye olmuşa benziyor...

Orhan Pamuk’s parallel universes

2007-05-22T12:35:00.001+02:00

Introvert like Marcel Proust, adventurer like Umberto Eco, fantastic like Italo Calvino, complex like Joyce, multi-faceted like Borges, magical like Marquez, and courageous like Dante... Included in the jury of Cannes Film Festival, Orhan Pamuk made headlines once again with two symposiums held in his name.

I remember a time when shelves in supermarkets and bookshops were packed with copies of My Name is Red. As I took one copy of the book in my hands, I faced his image lost in contemplation, directly looking at me from the backcover of the book. Suddenly I thought that this face was so familiar and I was sure he had something to reveal me and he knew something that might bring a change in my life. Although there were a hundred copies around, I was taken by his looks in the photograph reaching to me from behind those thick glasses whispering: “I have so much to tell you”.
Orhan Pamuk took me by the hand and opened the gates of new universes with ‘My Name is Red’. My Virgil from then on, Pamuk took me to a ‘New Life’... I remember a character in this book who was underlining the books while reading. I immediately underlined the sentence and many other sentences thereafter.
Reality and dream intermingled in his books, the borders blurred; characters got into each other... A dark atmosphere dominated and memory was deceptive as ever... Parallel universes were created with puns and riddles... Complex plots followed like corridors of the Library of Babel... The Silent House, The White Castle, Other Colours, Snow... Introvert like Marcel Proust, adventurer like Umberto Eco, fantastic like Italo Calvino, complex like Joyce, multi-faceted like Borges, magical like Marquez, and courageous as Dante... Pamuk’s books suddenly became indispensable to my life.

Understanding Orhan Pamuk
I remember a time when everyone was angry with this man whose books were advertised on billboards. They said, literature should not be popularised. I remember those claiming “A lot of people buy Orhan Pamuk books, but very few read them”. I remember reading statistics stating that “only one person out of ten people can read New Life until the end”. I was watching all these with a certain idea on my mind; they understood nothing of and about Orhan Pamuk.
It was on such a day that I encountered a book prepared by Engin Kılıç; ‘A Guide to Understanding Orhan Pamuk’. The articles in this book were collected with an aim to suggest new readings of Pamuk’s works. No doubt they were written by academics who understood Orhan Pamuk for those who want to understand Orhan Pamuk. Those who do not want to understand Orhan Pamuk did not read this book. Furthermore, they drove him to courts and even burnt his books.
Prizes, as the Nobel, are usually handled critically in literary circles, as it should be. It is widely known that Sartre denied the Prize. However, the aftershocks of Pamuk’s winning the Nobel Prize were quite controversial as many comments had no depth, and therefore no value. Those who invited Pamuk to renounce the prize “like Sartre did” failed to remember something. In the 1960s, Jean Paul Sartre made a series of controversial statements during a public lecture, upon which a group of French conservatives turned to Charles De Gaulle to caution the man of letters. After listening to their complaints, De Gaulle said to them "No way. Sartre is also France".
The most important and appropriate comment on Pamuk’s winning of the Nobel Prize emphasised the significance of the Prize in raising a world-wide interest in Turkish Literature and culture.
Not much later, Pamuk was invited to take a place in the jury of Cannes Film Festival. In its 60th year, Cannes also saw a big promotional campaign on Turkish culture.

Birthday present
Forget those who do not take pains to understand Orhan Pamuk; the city of İstanbul witnessed symposiums organised in name of the writer, for those who wish to understand him better. Kadir Has University organised a conference, entitled ‘the Literature of Orhan Pamuk’, on May 11, 2007. Subsequently Boğaziçi University held a two-day symposium where the works of the writer were discussed on May 14 and 15, 2007.
The conference at Kadir Has University focused on the international readings of Pamuk, with the participation of mainly foreign academics and critics; whereas Boğaziçi University housed many acknowledged Turkish academics such as Murat Belge, Engin Kılıç, and Jale Parla, who have been working on Pamuk’s works for some time. The symposium at Boğaziçi University was launched on May 14 with a ceremony, in which Mr.Pamuk was presented a honorary doctorate. Maureen Freely, translator of Pamuk’s works into English, joined the two symposiums and related the adventure and responsibilities of translating Pamuk.
Pamuk came to İstanbul in order to receive his honorary doctorate from Boğaziçi University and he gave a speech to mark the opening of the conference. “This is the place where I learned that books were not to be scared, or to be worshipped; instead books were to be understood”, he said emphasising the significance of mutual understanding.Pamuk celebrates his 55th birthday on June 7. It seems that the excitement he lived through at Cannes and his native city İstanbul in the month of May have been the best presents for him...

Gecenin Sonunda Aynadan Geçerken

2007-05-17T18:42:00.001+02:00

(Bu öykü ‘San Lorenzo Gecesi’ filminin ayna sahnesinin değişik bir yorumu olarak da okunabilir)

Hayır, sen görmedin o filmi, sevgilim.
O filmi, yalnızca benim anlattığım kadarıyla ve benim anlattıklarımdan bilmektesin. Ama sen, o geceyi nice filmi görmüşlerden daha iyi yaşadın. Çünkü görenler arasında pek azı bu geceye, şimdi bizim yaşamakta olduğumuz geceye varabildiler; pek azı, bu odaya, böyle bir odaya girebilme cesareti gösterebildiler.
Biz, o filmdeki yaşlı kadın ve yaşlı erkek gibi, elli yıldır evli olmadıktan sonra ve ancak rastlantı sonucu bir odaya, aynı odaya düşüp gecemizi yaşamış değiliz.

Çünkü biz, yaşamayı hiçbir zaman ertelemedik.

Belki bizim, senin ve benim İthaka’ya yolculuğumuz, o Yunanlı şairin dizelerinde üstü örtülü savunduğunun aksine , o kadar zaman almadı. Oysa biliyorsun, yine o şairin bir başka şiirinin dizelerinden yelken açmıştım sana. Gürültülü Bir Kahvenin İçerdeki Odasında, gençliğinde eline sevgi adına ne fırsat geçmişse, beklemenin düzmece bilgeliği uğruna hoyratça harcayıp sonra yaşanmamış anıların ağırlığıyla gözleri kapanan o yaşlı adama benzememek için, yıllarıma meydan okuyarak sana elimi uzatmıştım.

Ama sonunda İthaka’dayız işte.Bir anlamda, belki benim de yolculuğum yıllarca sürmüştür, şairin öğüdünü tutmuşçasına; bir anlamda , dizelerde yazılı olduğu üzere, ylda kazandığım onca şeyle zenginleşmiş gibi. Gelgelelim bir noktadan sonra bizim bütün serüvenimiz, sanki o şiire bir meydan okuyuş; çünkü “İthaka’dan zenginlikler beklemeyesin...” diyen koca şaire inat, bütün zenginliklerin bu odada olduğunu, bu gecede gizlendiğini bilmekteyiz; hep biliyorduk.

Bu bilgi, mezhebimizin henüz kitaplara geçmemiş dualarında yazılıydı.

Şimdi birbirimize bunca yakın, bizi aşıyan döşeğin bir kenarından gözlerine baktığım anda, gece ayinlerinin ilk çanlarını duyuyorum.
Şimdi, şu an, yalnızca seni hissetmekle sınırlanamıyor.
Bir sarılış var, bir birliktelik, ama yalnızca bu değil.
Şimdi bende ve ta içimde, derinliklerimdesin, yalnızca şehvetin anahtarlarının hiçbir zaman açamayacağı kapılarından girmişsin, ve ben susuzluğumu seninle gidermekteyim; önce damla damla, sonra gür bir kaynağın fışkırmalarıyla.

İthaka’ya götüren denizlerin hepsi, ansızın içilebilir olmuş...

Mussolini’nin faşistleriyle antifaşistler, artık son savaşlarını veriyorlar. İtalya’nın tarlaları savaşın son yılında insanlıklarını çoktan unutmuş, umarsız canlılarla dolu. Ama San Lorenzo Köyü’nün bir evinde, iki kişilik bir yatağın, basit bir konsolun ve küçük bir duvar aynasının bulunduğu bir odada, hala umut var. Elli yıldır birbirleriyle evli olmayan –bir zamanlar birbirleriyla evli kalmış- bir kadın ve bir erkek, sabahın ilk ışıklarıyla ilk ortak günlerine gözlerini açmışlar. Belki bundan sonra birlikte kalacaklar, belki yolları –isteyerek veya istemeksizin- yine ayrılacak; belki bir daha sınırlı bir yatağın uçsuz bucaksızlığını hiç ama hiç paylaşamayacaklar; filmin akışı, bu konuda bize bir açıklık getirmiyor. Ama kesin olan bir nokta var: Elli yıldır birbirleriyle evli olmayan bu kadın ile bu adam, bundan sonra her şeylerini ortaklaşa yaşayacaklar. Çünkü sabahın ilk ışıklarıyla kalkan ve köy meydanından gelen seslerin kimlere ait olduğu –bir gece öncesinin aksine, bunların faşistelrden mi yoksa antifaşistlerden mi geldiğini artık hiç ama hiç umursamaksızın- anlamak için pencereye doğru yürüyen kadın, pencere ile yatak arasındaki duvarda asılı, sağ alt köşesi kırık aynanın önünden geçerken, evli olmadığı onca yıl boyunca ilk defa bir aynanın önünde duracak. Sağ elinin parmaklarını, yılların ve Campan bağlarındaki üzümlerin çoktan morarttığı parmaklarını belki de ilk kez sert bir biçimde değil, ama okşarcasına –bir gecelik okşama, en kökleşmiş sertliklerin geleneğine son verebilir- kaldırıp saçlarında gezdirecek; belki o güne kadar bir sabah vakti içinde bir erkeğin de bulunduğu bir odada alna düşmüş saçları kaldırmak için hiç başa götürülmemiş olan o parmaklar, tatlı bir acemilikle ilk anda yolunu bulamayacak ve aynanın yanında asılı Meryem tasvirinin yanmakta olan minik kandiline değecek. Ama kadın, evli olmadığı elli yıldan bu yana ilk kez, ocak başlarında sıçrayan kıvılcımlardan acı duyduğunda yaptığının tam tersine, parmaklarına değen sıcak kandil yağından ötürü yüzünü buruşturmayacak. Sadece, birkaç saniye için parmaklarının yolculuğuna ara verecek ve dönüp Meryem tasvirine bakacak, ellerini kavuşturmadan...

BU GECEKİ GİBİ HİÇ SEVMEDİĞİMİ DÜŞÜNMEK DUA YERİNE GEÇMELİ SAHTE TAPINAKLAR GÜN GELİP BOŞALMALI VE HERKES YENİ ZAMAN DUALARINA KULAK VEREBİLMELİ ZATEN DUA DİYE BİR ŞEY VARSA EĞER BU GECEDEN SONRA SENİNLE ÖĞRENDİM DAHA ÖNCE SAHİBİNİ ARAYAN DUALAR VARDI İÇİMDE ŞİMDİ TANRISINI BULMUŞ DUALARA DÖNÜŞTÜ

Yarı karanlıkta, konsolun çok yakınındaki aynada yüzünü görmek için bir an doğruluyorsun.
Neyi aradığını biliyorum.
Dönüp uzun uzun bana bakıyorsun.
Aynada bulamadığını benim yüzümde buluyorsun.
Yine yarı karanlıkta, bir gülümseme yayılıyor dudaklarına.
Bir zafer sevinci. En pahalı Venedik aynalarının bile yansıtamayacağı bir şey var, ancak bakışlarımızla paylaştığımızda yüzlerimizden yansıyabilen. Dudaklarımızda ise, dediğim gibi, bir zafer sevinci.
Artık hiçbir utanca yenik düşmeyecek bedenlerimiz, onca zamanın ardından yine bizden yana. Kimi zaman parmak uçlarımızla çıkartıyoruz bu bedenlerin haritasını; biz, gerçekte kim olduğumuzu bulma işini ilerde daha güzel, daha özgür olacağı söylenen bir toplumda, sözde tıpkı bize benzeyecek başkalarına bırakmıyoruz. Biz bu gece bu odaya kadar varabilmişken, yüzyıllar boyunca mezhebimize yağdırılış bütün lanetleri sonunda yerine gelebilmiş dualara çeviriyoruz. Biliyoruz ki, hiçbir kitapta yasaklanmamıştı birbirini bunca özlemiş bedenlerin bir araya gelmesi, ve o bedenlerin arasına dikilmiş çatık kaşlı tanrı tasvirlerinin hepsi de düzmece putlardı.

Şimdi dışımızdaki aynayı bütünüyle unutmuşsun; belki bize kadar gelenler, yarını olmayan gecelerin düzmece adlarla girilen otellerinde seralarda yetişme sevgilerle yetinebilirlerdi. Ama bizim bu gece aradığımız, umudun kurtlanmış bağbozumlarından arta kalanlar değil.
Biz bu gece, bu odada insanların tanımlamaktan bile korktukları, hep hasıraltı ettikleri tutkulara, peş peşe çöken günlerimiz yüzünden sığınmadık.
Hayır, biz sığınmadık.
Çünkü biz, nicedir hazırdık bu geceye.
Çünkü kimbilir kaç hüzün öncesinde yazılmış öyküleri ikimiz de çoktan okumuştuk.
Bugüne kadar kaç coşkunun yelkenlerinin insan ağzından çıkma kötülüklerle paramparça edildiğini, sen ve ben BİZ olmaya kalkışırsak eğer, daha kaç cehennem söylencesinin gerçekte hiçbir tanrıya adanmamış tapınaklarda, sevgisizliğin taşlarına kazınacağını biliyorduk.
Bu gece bu odaya girdiğimizde, ve sen artık ışığı kapatabileceğimizi söylediğinde, yüzlerimizde Zeytindağı’ndan bu yana bütün hüzünlerin haritası çiziliydi.
Belli ki bu geceye, bedenlerimiz yüzünden sonradan tövbelere sığınmayacak kadar hazırdık. Yarının insanları, değil mi ki biz bu geceyi BİZ olarak yaşayabildik, ayna diye bizlere bakacaklar; işte o zaman hep güneşten yana olanların tarihini yazanlar, bizi sürüden kovanları anımsayacaklar ve kanlı söylentilerin işkence odalarını sonrasız kapatıp, onlar da BİZ olacaklar...

BİZ KAÇ HAYATTAN SONRA BULDUK DERSİN BİRBİRİMİZİ KAÇ TÖVBENİN BOZULMUŞLUĞUDUR BU YERYÜZÜ CENNETİ ŞİMDİ SABAHIN VE AKŞAMIN IŞIKLARINDA DİZ ÇÖKMÜŞ HEP BİZİM TAPINAKLARIMIZDAYIM ÖLDÜRMEYECEKSİN DEMİŞTİ MUSA ŞİMDİ BU ODANIN ÖTE YAKASINDAKİ İNSAN DENİZLERİ HEP KANLI GÜNLER VARDIR GECEYİ BEKLEMEKLE GÜZELLEŞİR YAĞMURU HEP BEKLİYORDUK VE BANA DEĞEN DUDAKLARINDAKİ ISLAKLIK İLK YANITIYDI BUNCA YAĞMUR DUASININ VEREN HANGİ TANRIDIR BULDUK MU BANA İLK SARILDIĞINDA PARİS’Tİ DÜŞLERİMDE HELENA TROYA’YI TEK BAŞINA KURTARABİLİRDİ O ZAMAN BELKİ SÖYLENCESİZ KALACAKTIK TARİH ÖNCESİNDEN DÜN GECEYE UZANAN YOL DAHA KISALACAKTI TEN YOLCULUKLARI VARDIR BÜTÜN ÖLÜMLERİ VE UTANÇLARI YENER

Kadının duraklamış eli yolunu sürdürecek. Alnına düşmüş iki tutam saç itilecek geriye doğru, yatırılarak. Ve kadın aynaya bakıp elli uzun yılın yüzüne çizmiş olduğu haritayı aradığında, o güne kadar hiç gitmediği ülkelerin yolunu bulacak. Bir sabah yeli geceliğinin içine süzülüp, bedeninin daha yeni sürülmüş toprağına can katacak. Sonra silah sesleri duyulacak dışarıdan, odanın içinde direnen yaşama karşın. Belki ölüm, belki d kurtuluşun müjdecisi. Ama kadın hiç bilmeyecek hangisi olduğunu, çünkü artık bilmeyi istemeyecek. Sırtını pencereye dönüp odanın içine, yatağa, o yataktaki elli yıldır evli olmadığı adama bakacak. Her şeyin, o gecede olup bitmiş her şeyin belki de yalnızca o gece için geçerli olduğunu düşünecek. Aldırmayıp, adamın mavi gözlerine dalacak. Musa’nın yardığı denizin maviliği kaplayacak her yanını. Şimdi o denizin ve bu odanın dışındaki bütün insan denizşerinin kanlar içinde olduğunu düşünecek. Silah sesleri sıklaşacak. Merdivenden yukarı çıkanların ayak sesleri duyulacak. Adam da artı doğrulmuş olacak yataktan.Elini konsoldaki tabancaya uzatacak. “Neden?” diye bağıracak kadın. “Kendimizi savunmalıyız,” diye karşılık verecek adam. “Hayır!” diye haykıracak kadın, geceliğini üstünden koparırcasına çıkarırken. Odayı dolanmakta olan sabah yeli, artık hiçbir engelle karşılaşmaksızın bu bedende izlerini sürebilecek. “Hayır!” diye yineleyecek kadın. ÉBen aynanın önünden geçebildim artık! Şimdi silahla karşı koymak yok. Şimdi öldürmeye karşı yaşamın söyleyebilecek bir şeyi olmalı.” Ve anlayacak adam. Kadını elli yıllık bir gerdek özlemiyle kendine çekecek. Bu sırada da kapı belki durmadan tekmelenecek, tekmelenecek...

Film böyle bitmemiş olabilir. Dahası, böyle bitmemişti. Bu, benim sana anlattığım son.
Aslı başka türlü olabilir.
Ama ben sana başka türlü anlatamazdım.
Çünkü şimdi bedenimde soluklarını doyasıya öğütürken, filmdeki adama silah çektiremezdim.

Hafif bir aydınlık.
Sabahın ilk ışıkları ya da yoldan geçen bir araba.
Şimdi, senin yanında eski kitaplardaki ölümsüzlüğün adının yaşamamak olduğunu öğreniyorum.
Solukların yüzüme yaşamın dizelerini yazıyor.
Dünya, günah çıkartmak için kapımızı vuruyor.
Oysa bizim odamızda bir sevginin gece vardiyası başlamakta.
Artık zaman geçmez oluyor, çünkü onu birbirimize armağan ediyoruz.
Şimdiye kara uzatmalı yalnızlıkların gece bekçisiydim, diye bağırmak istiyorum.
Dün gecenin yağmurlarıyla bitti uzatmalı yalnızlıklar, diyorsun, aynanın önünden geçtik artık.
Şimdi bu döşeğin salında kulaçladığımız cennet, bilinen bütün dua kitaplarından çıkarılmalı.

Çıkarılmalı ki, insanlar yeniden birbirlerinin duası olabilsinler...

AHMET CEMAL

At the End of the Night, Through the Looking-Glass...

2007-05-17T18:37:00.001+02:00

(This short story can be read as an interpretation of the mirror scene in the film “The Night of the Shooting Stars”[1])

No, you haven’t seen that film, my love.
You only know that film as far as I recount and from what I recount. But you lived that night much better than those who have already seen the film. Because so few among those who have watched it could reach this night; the night that we are living through; so few could dare to enter this room, a room like this.
We are not like that old woman and the old man in the film, who, after not being married for fifty years, but only coincidentally meet in a room, in the same room and spend the night.

Because, we have never postponed living.

Maybe our, your and my journey to Ithaca, contrary to the Greek Poet’s veiled argument in his lines, did not take that much time. However, you know from the lines of another poem of the same poet that I had sailed to you. In the Back-Room of a Noisy Coffeehouse, I gave my hand to you challenging my years, just in order not to be like that old man, who in his youth for the sake of the fake wisdom of waiting, clumsily wasted every opportunity that came over about love, then with the weight of those unlived moments whose eyelids were going down.

But at last we are in Ithaca. In a sense, maybe my journey also took years, like obeying the poet’s advice; in a sense, as expressed in the lines, like getting richer with all the things I have gained on the way. However, after a point, all our adventure is as if a challenge to that poem; because contrary to the great poet saying “Shall you not expect any richness from Ithaca...” , we know that all the richness is within this room, hiding in this night; we have always known it.

This information, was written in the prayers of our sect, which have not yet been included in the books.

At this moment we are so close to each other; looking into your eyes from one edge of the bed carrying us, I hear the first bells of the night prayers.
Now, this moment, can not be limited by only feeling you.
There is an embracing, a togetherness, but not only this.
Now you are in and even inside me, within the depths of me, you had entered through the doors which cannot be opened only by the keys of passion, and I am quenching my thirst with you; at first drop-by-drop, then as if the gushing out of a bold spring.

All the seas to Ithaca, are suddenly drinkable...

The fascists of Mussolini and the antifascists are having their last fight. The fields of Italy, in the last year of war, have already stripped off humanity, full of hopeless creatures. But in a house in the village of Saint Lorenzo, in a room, where a bed, a simple console and a little wall-mirror exist, there is still hope. Not being married for fifty years – yet been married to each other for some time- a woman and a man opened their eyes to their first common day with the first lights of the morning. Perhaps from now on they will stay together, perhaps their ways –willingly or unwillingly- will be parted again; perhaps they will not be able to share the eternity of a limited bed once more; the later scenes of the film, does not bring any clarity on this subject. But here is a certain point: Not being married to each other for fifty years, this woman and this man will live everything in common from now on. Because, waking up with the first lights of the morning, and walking towards the window in order to understand to whom belong the voices coming from the village square –unlike the night before, not caring whether they belong to fascists or antifascists-, the woman will stop in front of the mirror which is hanged on the wall between the window and the bed and broken on the right side below, for the first time in fifty years she has not been married. She will move the fingers of her right hand, which already turned purple by the years due to the grapes of Campon vineyards, through her hair maybe for the first time not harshly; but like stroking –stroking only once may end the tradition of a most established harshness-; maybe it was not until that day that in a morning, in a room where a man is present, those fingers, which have never been taken to head in order to put away the hair fallen on the forehead, will fail to find their way in a sweet inexperienced manner and touch the little oil-lamp of a Mary icon hanged near the mirror. But the woman, for the first time she has not been married for fifty years, unlike how she reacted when she suffered from the sparks of the hearth, will not crumple her face because of the hot oil of the oil-lamp. Just for a few seconds she will stop the journey of her fingers and have a look at the Mary icon, before she unites her hands...

THINKING THAT I HAVE NEVER LOVED LIKE TONIGHT SHOULD BE UNDERSTOOD AS A PRAYER COUNTERFEIT TEMPLES SHOULD BECOME VACANT AND EVERYBODY SHOULD BE ABLE TO LISTEN TO THEIR PRAYERS OF THE NEW TIMES IN ANY CASE IF THERE IS SOMETHING AS PRAYER TONIGHT I LEARNED IT WITH YOU BEFOREHAND THERE WERE PRAYERS INSIDE ME LOOKING FOR THEIR OWNER NOW THEY HAVE TURNED INTO THE PRAYERS WHICH HAVE FOUND THEIR GOD

In the half-darkness, for a moment, you straighten up to see your face in the mirror very near to the console.
I know what you are looking for.
You turn and look at me for a long time.
You find on my face what you could not find in the mirror.
Still in the half-darkness, a smile conquers your lips.
A joy of victory... There is something even the most expensive Venetian mirrors cannot reflect, but it is reflected on our faces when we share it with our looks. On our lips, as I said, is a joy of victory.
From now on our bodies will not be defeated by any shame, after all those times; again they are on our side. Sometimes with our fingertips we draw the map of these bodies; we do not let the job of finding who we are to those who would be “exactly” like ourselves in a society which is predicted to be much free and much beautiful. As tonight, having been able to reach this room, we turn all the curses that have been cast upon our sect to fulfilled prayers. We know that in no-book it was banned, the coming together of the bodies who have missed each other so much, and those frowning god icons cast between the bodies were all fake idols.

Now you have completely forgotten the mirror outside us; maybe the ones, who have come up to us, might be satisfied in the hotels of futureless nights under fake names with loves raised-up in greenhouses.
Tonight, in this room, we did not take shelter in the passions which people have been afraid of even defining and facing, not because of our days falling one after another.
No, we did not take shelter.
Because we were already ready for this night.
Because we had already read the stories written who knows how many periods of mourning ago.
We have already known that until today how many sails of enthusiasm have been destroyed by the wickedness of human tongue; if you and me try to be WE, how many phrases of hell will be engraved on the stones of lovelessness in the temples not dedicated to any god (we have already known it).
Tonight as we entered this room, and when you said we can turn off the light, there appeared on our faces a map of all the sorrow since the Mount of Olives.
Evidently, we were ready for the night so as not to take shelter in repentances on account of our bodies. The people of tomorrow, as we lived tonight as WE, will look into us as mirrors, it is when those who have always written the history of the supporters of the sun will remember the ones who have dismissed us from the flock, and closing the torture-rooms of bloody conversations, they will become US, too.

HOW MANY LIVES AFTER WE HAVE FOUND EACH OTHER DO YOU THINK IT IS THE BREAKING OF MANY REPENTANCES THIS EARTHLY PARADISE IS NOW ON ITS FEET IN THE LIGHT OF MORNING AND EVENING I WAS ALL THE TIME IN OUR TEMPLES YOU WILL NOT KILL SAID MOSES NOW THE SEAS OF PEOPLE BEYOND THE SHORES OF THIS ROOM THERE ARE ALWAYS BLOODY DAYS WAITING FOR THE NIGHT MAKES IT BEAUTIFUL WE WERE ALWAS WAITING FOR THE RAIN AND THE WETNESS OF YOUR LIPS TOUCHING ME WAS THE FIRST RESPONSE TO ALL THAT PRAYERS FOR RAIN WHICH GOD WAS IT THAT GAVE IT HAVE WE FOUND WHEN YOU FIRST EMBRACED ME IT WAS PARIS IN MY DREAMS ONLY THEN HELEN COULD HAVE SAVED TROJA ALONE MAYBE WE WOULD BE LEFT SPEECHLESS THE WAY FROM THE PREHISTORY TO YESTERNIGHT WOULD BE SHORTHENED THERE ARE BODY VOYAGES CONQUERING ALL DEATHS AND SHAMES

The woman’s hesitated hand will go on its way. Two small pinches of hair fallen on the forehead will be put backwards, slightly. And when the woman looking into the mirror, searches for a map drawn on her face by those fifty years, she will find the ways to the countries that she have never travelled before. A morning breeze creeping into her nightgown will refresh the newly-ploughed soil of her body. Afterwards sounds of gunfire will be heard coming from the outside, in contrast to the life, resisting in the room. Perhaps it is death, perhaps the herald of salvation. But the woman will never know which one, because she will not want to know. Turning her back to the window, she will look, into the room, to the bed, at the man in that bed, whom she has not been married for fifty years. She will think that everything, everything that happened that night was peculiar to that night only. Not minding, she will dive into the blue eyes of the man. The blueness of the sea that Moses had split, will cover all around. She will now think that all the seas of humanity outside this room are in blood. The sound of gunfire will become more frequent. The footsteps of the men coming upstairs, will be heard. The man will be straightened from the bed. He will move his hand towards the gun in the console. “Why?” will cry the woman, as she takes off her nightgown roughly. The morning breeze hanging about the room, can now trail on this body without any prevention. “No!” will repeat the woman. “I was able to pass in front of the mirror! No resisting with gun now. Now there must be something life wants to say against dying”. And the man will understand. He will pull the woman to himself with a fifty-year bridal longing. At this while the door will continually be kicked, kicked...

The film may not have ended this way. Actually, it did not. This is the end that I am telling you.
The actuality may be different.
But I could not have told you it in any other way.
Because now, as I am grinding your breath on my body, I could not have let the man in the film draw a gun.

A weak light....
The first lights of the morning or a car passing-by...
Now, by your side I learn that the name of the immortality in the old books was not-living.
Your breath is writing on my face, the poetry of life.
World is knocking at our door for confession.
Yet, in our room a nightwatch of love is just starting.
Time passes no more, as we gift it to each other.
I want to shout as, until now I was the night-watchman of extensive loneliness.
With the showers of yesternight the extensive loneliness is over, you say, we have passed through the mirror.
Now, the paradise, which we are sailing through on this bed as our raft, must be removed from all prayer books.

It should be removed, so that people can become the prayers of each other again.

AHMET CEMAL

[1] “La Notte di San Lorenzo”(org.title) Italy, 1982. Vittorio & Paolo Taviani, dir.s (translator’s note)

translated by Aslı Özgen