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 | Songs My Mother Never Taught Me by Selcuk Altun Telegram Books
Price £7.99
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After the death of his overbearing mother, the privileged Arda reclines in his wealth, reflecting on his young life, and on the life of his father, the famous mathematician Mursel Ergenekon, who was murdered on Arda's fourteenth birthday. While on the other side of the city 'your humble servant' Bedirhan has decided to pack in his ten-year career as an assassin. Their two lives become intrinsically bound in this remarkable thriller that takes us through the streets of Istanbul. We learn that Bedirhan in fact killed Arda's father, and that they share more in common than he or we could begin to imagine. Meanwhile, Selcuk Altun, a former family friend, is playing a deadly game, providing Arda with clues to track down his father's killer... Selcuk Altun was born in Artvin, Turkey in 1950. He lives in Istanbul and Songs My Mother Never Taught Me is his fourth novel. He is a retired banking executive and a bibliophile. | ||
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Reviewed by Caterina Scaramelli
Cornucopia 42
Songs my Mother Never Taught Me plays a game of mirrors with the social heterogeneity of contemporary Istanbul, from the Bosphorus to Tarlabası, passing through Üsküdar.
On one side there is the aristocratic Arda, son of an illustrious Bosphorus University professor, subjugated by his charming but domineering mother.
On the other a Tarlabası orphan turned paid murderer, convinced by his religious beliefs that he is redressing injustices.
As Arda follows hidden clues left by his father’s killer, new secondary characters appear in every chapter, bringing with them amusing anecdotes. Like a spicy biber dolması (stuffed pepper), the story is saturated with poetry, biblical references, historical details and musical fragments. Yet at times the peppers seem soggy and overcooked. The narrative flow is not consistently successful in holding together the novel’s ingredients, and occasionally I found myself awaiting the development of events that were never mentioned again.
However, this unpolished story is well researched and intriguing. It is as if Isabel Allende were narrating Orhan Pamuk, with a slightly crude sense of humour.
Unfortunately the translation is clumsy: if possible, get hold of a Turkish copy and read in small doses, sipping strong tea while waiting for a train.