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my name is red-我的名字叫红-第33部分

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sellers had spread out cabbage; carrots and the rest in front of their shops。 But 
I didn’t even have it in me to touch the plump leeks that were crying out to 
me to fondle them。 
I turned onto the side street; and saw that the blind Tatar was there waiting 
to heckle me again。 “Tuh;” I spat in his direction; that was all。 Why doesn’t this 
biting cold freeze these vagrants to death? 
As  Hasan  silently  read  the  letter;  I  could  barely  maintain  my  patience。 
Finally; unable to restrain myself; I suddenly said “Yes?” and he began reading 
aloud: 
 
My  Dearest  Shekure;  you’ve  requested  that  I  plete  your  father’s  book。  You 
can be certain that I have no other goal。 I visit your house for this reason; not to 
pester you; as you’d earlier indicated。 I’m quite aware that my love for you is my 
own  concern。  Yet;  due  to  this  love;  I’m  unable  properly  to  take  up  my  pen  and 
write what your father—my dear Uncle—has requested for his book。 Whenever I 
sense your presence in the house; I seize up and am of no service to your father。 I’ve 
mulled this over extensively and there can be but one cause: After twelve years; I’ve 
seen your face only once; when you showed yourself at the window。 Now; I quite 
fear losing that vision。 If I could once more see you close…up; I’d have no fear of 
losing you; and I could easily finish your father’s book。 Yesterday; Shevket brought 
me to the abandoned house of the Hanged Jew。 No one will see us there。 Today; at 
147 
 
whatever  time  you  see  fit;  I’ll  go  there  and  wait  for  you。  Yesterday;  Shevket 
mentioned that you dreamt your husband had died。 
 
Hasan read the letter mockingly; in places raising his already high…pitched 
voice  even  higher  like  a  woman’s;  and  in  places;  emulating  the  trembling 
supplication of a lover who’d lost all reason。 He made light of Black’s having 
written his wish “to see you just once” in Persian。 He added; “As soon as Black 
saw  that  Shekure  had  given  him  some  hope;  he  quickly  began  to  negotiate。 
Such haggling isn’t something a genuine lover would resort to。” 
“He’s genuinely in love with Shekure;” I said naively。 
“This ment proves that you’ve taken Black’s side;” he said。 “If Shekure 
has written that she dreamt my older brother was dead; it means she accepts 
her husband’s death。” 
“That was just a dream;” I said like an idiot。 
“I  know  how  smart  and  cunning  Shevket  is。  We  lived  together  for  many 
years! Without his mother’s permission and prodding; he’d never have taken 
Black to the house of the Hanged Jew。 If Shekure thinks she’s through with my 
older brother—with us—she’s terribly mistaken! My older brother is still alive 
and he’ll return from the war。” 
Before he had a chance to conclude; he went into the next room where he 
intended to light a candle; but succeeded only in burning his hand。 He let out 
a  howl。  All  the  while  licking  the  burn;  he  finally  lit  the  candle  and  placed  it 
beside  a  folding  worktable。  He  produced  a  reed  pen  from  its  case;  dipped  it 
into an inkwell and began furiously writing on a small piece of paper。 I sensed 
his  pleasure  at  my  watching  him;  and  to  show  that  I  wasn’t  afraid;  I  smiled 
exaggeratedly。 
“Who is this Hanged Jew; you must know?” he asked。 
“Just  beyond  these  houses  there’s  a  yellow  one。  They  say  that  Moshe 
Hamon; the beloved doctor of the previous Sultan and the wealthiest of men; 
had for years hidden his Jewish mistress from Amasya and her brother there。 
Years ago in Amasya; on the eve of Passover; when a Greek youth supposedly 
”disappeared‘ in the Jeed that he’d been strangled 
so unleavened bread could be made from his blood。 When false witnesses were 
brought  forward;  an  execution  of  Jews  began;  however;  the  Sultan’s  beloved 
doctor  helped  this  beautiful  woman  and  her  brother  escape;  and  hid  them 
with the permission of the Sultan。 After the Sultan died; His enemies couldn’t 
148 
 
find  the  beautiful  woman;  but  they  hanged  her  brother;  who’d  been  living 
alone。“ 
“If Shekure doesn’t wait for my brother to e back from the front; they’ll 
punish her;” said Hasan; handing me the letters。 
No  anger  or  wrath  could  be  seen  on  his  face;  just  the  misfortune  and 
sorrow particular to the love…stricken。 I suddenly saw in his eyes how fast love 
had  aged  him。  The  money  he’d  begun  to  earn  working  in  customs  hadn’t 
made him more youthful at all。 After all his offended grimaces and threats; it 
dawned on me that he might once again ask me how Shekure could be won 
over。  But  he’d  e  so  close  to  being  thoroughly  evil  that  he  could  no 
longer ask。 Once one accepts evil—and rejection in love is a significant cause 
for doing so—cruelty folloe afraid of my thoughts and that 
terrible red sword the boys talked about; which severed whatever it touched; 
in my desperation to leave; in a near frenzy; I stumbled outside onto the street。 
This was how I fell unwitting victim to the curses of the Tatar beggar。 But I 
immediately pulled myself together。 I softly dropped a small stone I’d picked 
off the ground into his handkerchief and said; “There you go; mangy Tatar。” 
Without  laughing;  I  watched  his  hand  reach  hopefully  for  the  stone  he 
thought  was  a  coin。  Ignoring  his  curses;  I  headed  toward  one  of  my 
“daughters;” whom I’d married off to a good husband。 
That sweet “daughter” of mine served me a piece of spinach pie; a leftover; 
but still crisp。 For the afternoon meal she was preparing lamb stew in a sauce 
heavy with beaten eggs and spiced with sour plum; just the way I like it。 So as 
not to disappoint her; I waited and ate two full ladles with fresh bread。 She’d 
also  made  a  nice  pote  of  stewed  grapes。  Without  any  hesitation;  I 
requested some rose…petal jam; a spoonful of which I stirred into the pote 
before topping off my meal。 Afterward; I went on to deliver the letters to my 
melancholy Shekure。 
 
 
   
149 
 
I; SHEKURE 
 
I  was  in  the  midst  of  folding  and  putting  away  the  clothes  that  had  been 
washed  and  hung  out  to  dry  yesterday  when  Hayriye  announced  Esther  had 
e…or; this was what I planned to tell you。 But why should I lie? All right 
then; when Esther arrived; I was spying on my father and Black through the 
closet peephole; impatiently waiting for the letters from Black and Hasan; and 
thus;  my  mind  was  preoccupied  with  her。  Just  as  I  sensed  that  my  father’s 
fears of death were justified; I also knew Black’s interest in me wasn’t eternal。 
He was in love insofar as he wanted to be married; and because he wanted to 
be married; he easily fell in love。 If not me; he’d love。 If not me; he’d marry 
another; taking care to fall in love with her beforehand。 
In  the  kitchen;  Hayriye  sat  Esther  in  a  corner  and  handed  her  a  glass  of 
rosewater  sherbet;  as  she  gave  me  a  guilty  look。  I  realized  that  since  Hayriye 
had  bee  my  father’s  mistress;  she  might  be  reporting  to  him  everything 
she sees。 I’m afraid that this may indeed be the case。 
“My  black…eyed  girl;  my  dark…fortuned  beauty;  my  stunning  beauty  of 
beauties; I was delayed because Nesim; my pig of a husband; kept me occupied 
with  all  sorts  of  nonsense;”  said  Esther。  “You  have  no  husband  senselessly 
haranguing you; and I hope you know the value of this。” 
She took out the letters; I snatched them from her hand。 Hayriye withdrew 
to a corner where she wouldn’t be in the way; but could still hear everything 
that  passed  between  us。  So  Esther  wouldn’t  be  able  to  see  my  expression;  I 
turned my back on her and read Black’s letter first。 When I thought about the 
house  of  the  Hanged  Jew;  I  shuddered  for  a  moment。  “Don’t  be  afraid; 
Shekure; you can manage in any situation;” I said to myself and began reading 
Hasan’s letter。 He was on the verge of madness: 
 
Shekure; I’m burning with desire; yet I know you’re not in the least concerned。 
In my dreams; I see myself chasing you over deserted hilltops。 Every time you leave 
one  of  my  letters—that  I  know  you  read—unanswered;  a  three…feathered  arrow 
pierces my heart。 I’m writing in hopes that you’ll respond this time。 The word is 
out;  everyone’s  spreading  the  news;  even  your  children  are  saying  it:  You’ve 
dreamed that your husband has died; and now you claim that you’re free。 I cannot 
say whether or not it’s true。 What I do know is that you’re still married to my 
older brother and bound to this household。 Now that my father finds me justified; 
we’re both going to the judge to have you returned here。 We’ll be ing with a 
150 
 
group  of  men  we’ve  assembled;  so  let  your  father  be  forewarned。  Collect  your 
things;  you’re  to  e  back  to  this  house。  Send  your  response  with  Esther 
immediately。 
 
After reading the letter a second time; I pulled myself together and gazed at 
Esther  with  questioning  eyes;  but  she  told  me  nothing  new  about  Hasan  or 
Black。 
I  pulled  out  the  reed  pen  that  I  kept  hidden  in  a  corner  of  the  pantry; 
placed a sheet of paper on the breadboard and was about to begin writing a 
letter to Black when I froze。 
Something  came  to  mind。  I  turned  toward  Esther:  She’d  fallen  upon  the 
rosewater sherbet with the joy of a chubby child and so it seemed ridiculous 
to me that she could be aware of what was going through my mind。 
“See how sweetly you’re smiling; my dear;” she said。 “Don’t worry; in the 
end everything will be all right。 Istanbul is rife with rich gentlemen and pashas 
who’d give their souls to be wed to a stunning beauty; possessed of so many 
talents like yourself。” 
You  understand  what  I’m  talking  about:  Sometimes  you’ll  say  something 
you’re convinced of; but no sooner do the words leave your mouth than you 
ask  yourself;  “Why  did  I  say  this  so  halfheartedly;  even  though  I  believe  it 
through and through?” That was what happened when I said the following: 
“But  Esther;  who’d  want  to  marry  a  widow  with  two  kids;  for  Heaven’s 
sake?” 
“A  widow  like  you?  Plenty;  a  slew  of  men;”  she  said;  conveying  them  all 
with a hand gesture。 
I looked into her eyes。 I was thinking I did not like her。 I fell so silent that 
she knew I wasn’t going to give her a letter and even that it would be better if 
she left。 After Esther had gone; I withdrew to my own corner of the house as 
though I could feel my silence—how should I put it—in my soul。 
Leaning on the wall; for a long while I stood still in the blackness。 I thought 
of myself; of what I should do; of the fear that was growing within me。 All the 
while I could hear Shevket and Orhan chattering upstairs。 
“And you’re as timid as a girl;” said Shevket。 “You only attack from behind。” 
“My tooth is loose;” said Orhan。 
151 
 
At the same time; another part of my mind was concentrating on what 
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