When the wife of one of Istanbul’s most popular Arabesk singers is poisoned and his baby daughter disappears, newly promoted Inspector Suleyman is put in charge of the case. The obvious suspect is the singer’s much older mistress, Tansu, an aging star prone to temper tantrums, though the presence of a neighbour with Downs Syndrome in the apartment is muddying the water. In addition, his mentor, Inspector Cetin Ikmen, although ill and notionally off work, can’t help meddling in the case, and one of his officers seems to have more loyalty to the singer than this boss. The third book in the Ikmen series, is as much about the religious make-up of Turkey as the mystery. Indeed, the mystery element is quite thin given the limited cast and the direction of the story. As such, the interest in the tale is driven by interactions between the characters and the sense of place than the mystery. Which works fine if you’re interested in the culture, politics and social relations of life in Turkey, and the interwoven personal lives of a small murder team, rather than simply wanting a compelling police procedural. And that worked just fine for me.
Showing posts with label Turkey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Turkey. Show all posts
Monday, May 4, 2020
Monday, January 22, 2018
Review of Deep Waters by Barbara Nadel (Headline, 2002)
A young Albanian is found almost decapitated by the banks of the Bosphorus in Istanbul. His family are involved in a blood feud with another immigrant family and it appears he is the latest victim. His death means that it will need to be avenged, continuing on the fis. Inspector Cetin Ikmen’s investigation soon reveals some anomalies, however, such as the victim recently donated his kidney to a young, rich woman. He also discovers that his mother’s half of the family had been involved in a blood feud of their own, which requires the family history to be re-visited. As the tension builds between the feuding Albanian families, Ikmen and his team disrupt their plans and seek to identify the murderer.
Deep Waters is the fourth book in the Inspector Cetin Ikmen series set in Istanbul, Turkey (and the first I've read). This outing has a strong Albanian focus with Ikmen and his team investigating the blood feud between two Albanian families and its latest victim, while also exploring his own Albanian roots and the death of his mother. In addition, one strand of the story focuses on a rich, troubled family that have links to the young victim, and on the relationship between one of Ikmen’s aristocratic colleagues and an Irish/Turkish psychoanalyst. Indeed, as well as charting the murder investigation, the story focuses equally on the domestic lives of Ikmen and his team and the social and cultural aspects of Turkish life. The result is interesting and engaging tale, with a strong sense of cultural context and place. In my view, the storyline relies on too many of convenient relationships between police and non-police characters and there’s no great surprise in the resolution, but nonetheless it’s a captivating read. I’m looking forward to reading some of the other books to follow the characters evolving lives and learn more about the city and its people.
Deep Waters is the fourth book in the Inspector Cetin Ikmen series set in Istanbul, Turkey (and the first I've read). This outing has a strong Albanian focus with Ikmen and his team investigating the blood feud between two Albanian families and its latest victim, while also exploring his own Albanian roots and the death of his mother. In addition, one strand of the story focuses on a rich, troubled family that have links to the young victim, and on the relationship between one of Ikmen’s aristocratic colleagues and an Irish/Turkish psychoanalyst. Indeed, as well as charting the murder investigation, the story focuses equally on the domestic lives of Ikmen and his team and the social and cultural aspects of Turkish life. The result is interesting and engaging tale, with a strong sense of cultural context and place. In my view, the storyline relies on too many of convenient relationships between police and non-police characters and there’s no great surprise in the resolution, but nonetheless it’s a captivating read. I’m looking forward to reading some of the other books to follow the characters evolving lives and learn more about the city and its people.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Review of The Bellini Card by Jason Goodwin (Faber, 2009)
Istanbul, 1840, and there is a reshuffling of power as a new sultan succeeds the old. The young sultan has heard a rumour that a portrait by Bellini of his ancestor, Mehmet the Conqueror, has resurfaced in Venice. Yashim, a palace eunuch and detective, is asked to quietly investigate whether the painting exists and is for sale. Not wanting to draw attention to sultan’s interest, Yashim sends his friend, Palewski, the Polish ambassador to Istanbul to Venice. Given that Venice is in the control of Austrian authorities, and their recent conflict with Poland, Palewski adopts the disguise of a rich American seeking masterpieces to take back to the new world. Venice is a shadow of its former glory, but its people still possess the guile and hospitality that made it a key Mediterranean trading port. Palewski is soon moving in a world of old aristocratic families, dealers and cunning guides, seeking the fabled Bellini, but so is a killer who’s leaving a trail of bodies in his wake.
The strengths of The Bellini Card are the sense of place, characterisation, and historical detail. Goodwin places the reader in both Istanbul and Venice -- the landscape and architecture, the sights, sounds and smells, and the social strata and living conditions. The descriptions are wonderfully evocative and come to life in one’s mind’s eye. This is aided by a melting pot of nicely drawn characters -- a mix of fading aristocrats, bureaucrats, servants and criminals -- and their interactions conditioned by social standing. This is all well framed with respect to byzantine politics and the long history of connections between the two cities. The plot, however, is also somewhat byzantine. It might have been because I was tired when reading, but as the story progressed I became increasingly lost as to logic driving the story and I reached the end without really understanding the denouement. Maybe if I read it again it would become clear, but on first reading the complex weave and twists in the story never fully unravelled to reveal themselves. The result was a tale I enjoyed for the rich portrait of people and places, but where the plot became evermore incidental.
The strengths of The Bellini Card are the sense of place, characterisation, and historical detail. Goodwin places the reader in both Istanbul and Venice -- the landscape and architecture, the sights, sounds and smells, and the social strata and living conditions. The descriptions are wonderfully evocative and come to life in one’s mind’s eye. This is aided by a melting pot of nicely drawn characters -- a mix of fading aristocrats, bureaucrats, servants and criminals -- and their interactions conditioned by social standing. This is all well framed with respect to byzantine politics and the long history of connections between the two cities. The plot, however, is also somewhat byzantine. It might have been because I was tired when reading, but as the story progressed I became increasingly lost as to logic driving the story and I reached the end without really understanding the denouement. Maybe if I read it again it would become clear, but on first reading the complex weave and twists in the story never fully unravelled to reveal themselves. The result was a tale I enjoyed for the rich portrait of people and places, but where the plot became evermore incidental.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Review of The Gigolo Murder by Mehmet Murat Somer (Penguin, 2009, Turkish 2003)
In a funk after his boyfriend dumps him, the anonymous transvestite narrator of the story has locked himself away in his Istanbul apartment, ignoring the drag queen club he owns and the computer company he hacks for. Worried about his welfare, close friend and fellow drag queen, Ponpon, comes to rescue and rehabilitates him, before dragging him out to the club he performs in. There he meets a handsome lawyer, Haluk, immediately becoming smitten despite the presence of his wife. During their encounter, Haluk receives a phone call to say his wife’s brother, Faruk, a rich moneylender, has been arrested for the murder of Volkan, a minibus driver and noted gigolo. Solving the murder might endear the sometime amateur sleuth to the lawyer, so dressed like his heroine, Audrey Hepburn, he sets about snooping, visiting Volkan’s dysfunctional family and some of his lovers, and also catching up on some of his hacking duties, which appear to have some bearing on the case. Then the accused is killed shortly after our hero(ine)’s visit and things really start to hot up.
The unusual twist in Somer’s Hop-Çiki-Yaya series set in Istanbul, Turkey, is the amateur sleuth: a gay, transvestite drag queen, who is vain, camp, catty, impulsive, dramatic, brave, and wears his heart on his expensively clad sleeve. He’s also a dab hand at Thai boxing and a skilled computer hacker. He leads a colourful life, surrounded by a menagerie of larger than life and quirky characters and a penchant for putting his nose in where it’s not necessarily wanted. The result is an interesting lead character whose boundary challenging exploits are good fun to follow. Indeed, The Gigolo Murder has a streak of light humour running throughout. The plot is appealing enough, charting the investigation in to the death of a man abused as a child and exploited as an adult by his family, and it provides an interesting glimpse of different elements of Istanbul’s subcultures: minibus/taxi drivers, drag queen clubs, rich high society. There’s plenty of twists and turns, though it relies on a couple of plot devices at times. Overall, an entertaining read and a fresh contribution to the genre.
Friday, June 20, 2014
Review of The Istanbul Puzzle by Laurence O’Bryan (Avon, 2012)
Sean Ryan is the co-founder of a private cultural heritage research institute. One of his projects is to examine the mosaics in Hagia Sophia, the ancient mosque in the centre of Istanbul, with the fieldwork being conducted by his assistant, Alex. The project comes to a sudden halt, however, when Alex’s beheaded body is found. Ryan heads to Istanbul determined to discover what happened to his friend, but on arrival it’s clear that the Turkish police do not want him there, the British consulate is lukewarm about his presence, and a couple of thugs seem to want him dead. Ryan is saved from the latter by Isabel, a member of the consulate staff. They form an uneasy alliance, which Ryan continually tests by determinedly pushing for answers and action. He most certainly gets action and intrigue through a series of chases, violent encounters, and puzzles concerning cultural and religious artefacts and a wider political conspiracy. Having failed to get answers over the loss of his wife to a roadside bomb in Afghanistan, one way or another Ryan is going to get justice for his friend.The Istanbul Puzzle is a political/religious conspiracy thriller set mostly in the Turkish capital but with excursions into Iraq and London. I usually shy away from such thrillers because I have difficulty buying into the plausibility of the plots and gaining a belief in the characters. However, since I was travelling to Turkey I thought I’d give it go. O’Bryan writes in short, workmanlike sentences, keeping the story moving at quick clip. The story is told in the first person perspective of Sean Ryan, a half-British/half-American scientist who works for a research institute. He’s still grieving over the death of his wife and his career is somewhat on the skids and he approaches his investigation into the death of his research assistant with a cavalier, devil-may-care attitude. It took me quite a while to get into the story, for two reasons: I didn’t connect with the first person perspective of Ryan (my sense was that a third person perspective might have suited the story better), nor the staccato style; and I didn’t buy into the plot which has a conspiracy whose logic is not fully elaborated. As the story progressed, the style improves and I managed to suspend my sense of belief as I got a little more hooked into the story. As it nears its end the story builds to a climax, however, there are a few too many dangling ends with respect to the fate of a number of secondary characters and the conspiracy. Overall, a thriller that will appeal to Dan Brown readers.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Review of Istanbul Passage by Joseph Kanon (Simon and Schuster, 2012)
Leon Bauer, a businessman in Istanbul, has spent the Second World War undertaking errands for the American consulate and helping his wife rescue Jews escape from Europe. In the post-war period he finds himself performing the same roles, only his wife is in a clinic having had a nervous breakdown. His American handler has arranged for Bauer to meet someone off a boat, a man who was a senior figure in the Romanian fascist regime, someone who persecuted Jews but has valuable information about the Russian intelligence services. His job is to hide the man until he can be flown to Washington for debriefing. Only someone else is also waiting at the docks, leading to a shootout. Unsure who to trust, and with the Americans, Russians and Turks hunting for his charge, he seeks a safe passage for them both out of the country.
In Istanbul Passage Kanon envelopes the reader in the city in the immediate post-war era - a city on the fulcrum between East and West in a country seeking to remain somewhat neutral in the coming cold war. Kanon expertly recreates its cultural landscape and sense of place - the melting pot of sights and sounds; the busy waterways and markets; the contrasts between rich and poor; and the political and diplomatic haunts of consulates, hotels and private parties. The characterisation is keenly observed, especially Leon Bauer, who is given the unenviable task of keeping alive a war criminal, someone hated by the Jews he helps rescue, and who finds himself caught in both a political drama and an unfolding romance. The plot is intricately woven and as the story unfolds Kanon ratchets up the tension, performs twist after twist, and shifts the moral terrain. Indeed, with regards to the latter, the story poses questions about obligation, duty and loyalty in relation to work, family and strangers. The result is a thoughtful and engaging page-turner. It certainly whetted my appetite for his other books.
In Istanbul Passage Kanon envelopes the reader in the city in the immediate post-war era - a city on the fulcrum between East and West in a country seeking to remain somewhat neutral in the coming cold war. Kanon expertly recreates its cultural landscape and sense of place - the melting pot of sights and sounds; the busy waterways and markets; the contrasts between rich and poor; and the political and diplomatic haunts of consulates, hotels and private parties. The characterisation is keenly observed, especially Leon Bauer, who is given the unenviable task of keeping alive a war criminal, someone hated by the Jews he helps rescue, and who finds himself caught in both a political drama and an unfolding romance. The plot is intricately woven and as the story unfolds Kanon ratchets up the tension, performs twist after twist, and shifts the moral terrain. Indeed, with regards to the latter, the story poses questions about obligation, duty and loyalty in relation to work, family and strangers. The result is a thoughtful and engaging page-turner. It certainly whetted my appetite for his other books.
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