Orhan Pamuk is a Nobel prize winner, has 66 years old, is home reasons to feel sad (your country, where you imprison those who want to practice freedom of expression), but seeks happiness. Hard. Through the scripture. His family wanted to a painter or architect, but he rebelled, he wanted his imagination was directly from the brain to the pen, and as well has written books in which they occur extraordinary things that seem simple in environment difficult, dark, or sad.
His latest novel is The woman with the red hair (Literature Random House), and before that he published two works considered to be masterpieces of his imagination and his memory, the elements that make up the baggage of your writing. These works were Istanbul and The Museum of Innocence, perhaps the most important of his creations.
Pamuk spoke of these things on the second morning of the FIL, in an auditorium crowded and not always in silence, which caused upset in the writer, from natural soft and even naïve and sentimental, as defined in one of his books. While what is presented by the president of the FIL, Raúl Padilla, he took pleasure in the video recording to the audience, among whom sat his companion, Insulate, to which he devotes his latest novel. Was Jorge Volpi, his mexican counterpart, the person in charge to get him to talk in an interview that focused on happiness as a matter pursued, the matter that makes write. His intervention was the opening of the Literary living Room Carlos Fuentes that the FIl spends some years ago one of its most active protagonists. Was Silvia Lemus, his widow, who feted by the Nobel with the emblem that distinguishes those who have been involved in this chair annual.
He is not considered a writer of Istanbul, “but what I am, the people I considered as well”
Pamuk, spoke with enthusiasm at times, and furious by the noise of the part of the public, of what led him to writing. He does not need to be a writer happy, but a happy person. Child was trained to be alone in your room, and this could have been possible as a painter and what has been Casinoslot done as a writer. Don’t trust never in the inspiration, because writing is done as bridges, stone to stone; in front of the inspiration he opposes “stubbornness, patience, work. And I am very impatient”. In her first books, about even of his childhood, full of stories, is that age’s inaugural life, your friends, your relatives, your neighbors. And it is, of course, Istanbul. He is not considered a writer of Istanbul, “but what I am, the people I considered as well”. To get to be a writer that takes into account the local, but which aspires to the universal, was an invaluable aid in the Latin american boom, especially Juan Rulfo and Gabriel García Márquez, who, as he did with Istanbul, came to the abstraction of the places based on places actually existing. These writers joined, to the liking of the audience of mexico, the names of Carlos Fuentes and Octavio Paz.
There is more background on his writing. Are Jorge Luis Borges and Italo Calvino. They took him to the classics. Borges, in particular, taught me to imagine the literature as a mystic and to use in the modern era, old stories that form the metaphor of new scriptures.” The death of Artemio Cruz of Sources and the works of García Márquez and Vargas Llosa’s complete, in part, her literary education, which is crossed by Spanish names. “The boom was explained to me that it could be universal and local at the same time”. Vladimir Nabokov learned “stunts”, and are must-haves in your backpack Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Proust and Thomas Mann.
The issue that saddens me is one unavoidable: “the Turkey, without freedom of expression there is no democracy; in my country are incarcerated by the thousands to writers, to journalists.” That is what disturbs you, what makes a man unhappy. Write you happy. Type, said starting up a litany of reasons for doing so, “because I want to read books that I would have liked to write; because my religion is literature, and not to any other; because I like to be read; because I believe in the immortality of the libraries; because I want to escape my dreams; because I never manage to be happy.”
“to Be happy is to lead a full life.” He feels it in the fourth, only, “I prepared myself to be that way from my childhood”. Happiness is to comply with a series of values, among them “the sex, the money, the family, patriotism, harmony, hierarchy,…” When you set out to write is well aware that a novel does not depend on a fact, but of all the components that come to visit that room alone. For when he said all of this the noise of the room, so glad Pamuk, had subsided.
