CBR8 Reviews #7 and #8: Museum of Innocence and The White Castle by Orphan Pamuk

We've entered December, so we both know this means it's time to get all my reviews written before the end of CBR8! I've sat on the review of many -- some I've started and been unable to finish, some I just could never sit, gather my thoughts, and put it into words. You'd think that after participating in Cannonball Read since 2009 (Holy shit, I've been doing it for seven years!) I'd know how to *not* procrastinate on the reviews. Alas. So let's dive into it!

CBR8 Review #7: Museum of Innocence by Orphan Pamuk

In April, I spent a month in Istanbul, and that city was one of the most amazing places I've ever been. It was modern and historic, beautiful and creative, and that blend of Asian and European is something that can actually be seen. Put aside its physical beauty, and Istanbul is seriously one of the most interesting and fascinating places.

And during my last week there, I took myself to the Museum of Innocence, even though I've never read Orphan Pamuk's famed book of the same name. I thought I was going to be somewhat bored during my tour of the little corner house in the beautiful neighborhood of Cihangir, but I was just so entertained. All the glass displays in the museum portray a chapter in the book in terms of the items mentioned or the moment captured. So while I have never read the book, I could sort of figure out the narrative as I strolled through it. Pamuk's attempt -- with the museum -- was really to bottle what Istanbul was like during this period, through its knick-knacks and habits and events.

Little things from Turkish daily life.

 It was an experience unlike anything I've ever been to, and I left the museum feeling a sort of nostalgia for I don't even know what. It's like I didn't know I missed some *thing* until it plopped itself right in my life. So I knew that I had to read the book to get all my questions about the museum answered.

The plot itself is quite straightforward. It is a love story set in Istanbul in the 70s and 80s. Kemal, a wealthy businessman from a reputable family, falls in love with a distant relative of his, Fusun, who is from the poorer, oft-forgotten part of the family tree. Despite being engaged to a woman who is deemed suitable for his social and financial status -- and also being relatively content with his life -- Kemal embarks on a short-lived affair with Fusun.

The dress that Fusun wore on the day of her driving test.

I'm not sure how much I want to give away, because part of the intrigue of this book is on how you never quite know what the conclusion is. Does the ending come when the affair is halted? Does it end when Kemal admits his love for Fusun to himself? Does it end from Kemal removes himself from Istanbul's high-flying social scene?

All the red dots on this map of Istanbul indicate
where Kemal thought he saw Fusun.

The most frustrating aspect for me reading this was how much I disliked Kemal and yet understood where he was coming from. I suspect that might have been Pamuk's intention -- to portray a man of privilege, in every sense of the word, and to make him act like a total ass, and then regret his actions without knowing quite how to fix the situation. The second thing I suspect I'm supposed to take away from this is how women are viewed in Turkish society. The modern ones are open to having sex before marriage, but only with a man who they would eventually wed. And even as they proclaim their freedom and independence from the stodgy old-fashioned expectations of their families, their society (including these so-called independent women) also mock those who do have sex before marriage. They so rarely have any real autonomy, any real direction in their lives. And so, these women exist between putting up a bravado of strength and independence with no way of actually directing their lives and the ways they wish to be perceived.

Come to think of it, it's not just Turkish society. And it's not just in the 70s or 80s.

Nostalgia is a funny thing, and I got a strong sense that Pamuk wrote this in an almost sneering manner. "Look how simple life was back then, how much fun it was, how beautiful life could have been," he appears to be saying, before slapping the reader in the face when they realize that life is still like this, and it is actually not, in fact, simple or fun or beautiful. He is making fun of the way we humans tend to look back in the past with rose-colored lenses when things are going badly in the present. We don't even know what we're yearning for to return, and even if we got it, it's not what we thought it was.

Which makes it all the more ironic that I decided to read The Museum of Innocence out of some misplaced sense of nostalgia. The magic of Istanbul had seeped into my head. Even funnier is when I read the book *after* leaving Istanbul, the descriptions of the streets and the neighborhoods -- all recognizable to me -- made me just want to return to that perfect period in April. It's like a cycle of yearning for a time that I'm don't think can ever be properly re-lived.

CBR8 Review #8: The White Castle by Orphan Pamuk

I wanted to give Pamuk another shot because I had read The Museum of Innocence with such overwhelming feelings of nostalgia coupled with dislike for the main character that I really couldn't say, when asked, whether if I liked him or not. The White Castle was a really quick read -- I read it all in a single night -- but unfortunately, I think it's going to be my last Pamuk. It's just too bizarre, and I think I just don't really *get* him.

The novel takes place in 17th century Turkey, and the narrator is an Italian scholar who got captured by troops from the Ottoman Empire when he was sailing to Naples. The Pasha of the empire takes a liking to him because he has some medical knowledge and was able to solve his ailments, and he introduces him to a court scholar named Hoja, who looks exactly like the narrator. During his imprisonment, he was asked by the Pasha to convert to Islam from his Christian religion, a request that he kept refusing. While he should have been killed for pissing off the Pasha, he was instead gifted to Hoja as a slave.

Hoja, mystified by this Italian scholar's wealth of knowledge, ordered him to teach him everything he knew and more. Soon the student and the teacher were one and the same, exchanging ideas to reach solutions. But this dynamic is strained at times by the master-slave relationship, with the narrator choosing to withhold his approval of Hoja's knowledge if he was upset at being a slave.

I'm gonna be honest here -- I'm really not sure what the point of this book was. The themes seem to be about how people can have a tenuous grasp on what their selves are, and lose a sense of their being if they are challenged. There's also a bit of the unreliable narrator trope at play here; at the end, the reader is not sure if the narrator is Hoja or the Italian scholar.

I get all of this, but I think I just sort of lost the point of the plot. This book is very simply written, and it was easy to get through it quickly, so it's worth a read if you have a night to spare. But I'm not sure if I am used to this sort of ambiguous, mystical-unrealism writing. It's also a completely different voice from The Museum of Innocence, though the theme of being conflicted with your selves and your personhood is a similar strain that runs through both novels.

So I disappeared for a bit...

2013 was a bit of a shit year, to be honest. After I read and reviewed Ghostwritten, my life sort of went down the rabbit hole. My boyfriend and I broke up -- we were in a long-distance relationship, so the absence shouldn't have mattered so much, right? Even so.

So I disappeared for a bit, and I stopped reading, and I stopped reviewing. I found it difficult to sit still by myself with my thoughts, and so I was just running around, doing as much as I possibly could. I went to Kep on weekends with new friends, went to Jakarta on another weekend to visit an old friend. I started cooking again, this time trying to make Chinese-style noodles (hor fun), or pierogis, or just meals that consisted of the four food groups. I adopted a kitten and named him Biggie Smalls. I fought with friends, made up with friends, said goodbye to friends. I went to new places, new events that I wouldn't have bothered with six months ago, and I met up with old friends who visited Phnom Penh. I bought a nice camera and (somewhat) learned how to use it. 

First day in Jakarta

Jakarta city-view

Parts of the city were waterlogged when I was there. 

But people still seemed positively cheerful 

With Christi and her boyfriend, hanging outside in the balcony

Biggie Smalls, when he was very small

Biggie Smalls, two months later. Dude got huge!

My pierogis. I was very proud of 'em. 

Jane and I looking like hot bitches on our way to a classical music concert (Photo by Ben Woods*)

At the night market with friends (Photo by Ben Woods)

Always at Liquid. Etan (third from left) visited me in Phnom Penh for about 48 hours. (Photo by Ben Woods)

And this was all while working my ass off at my job, which is utterly life-consuming in some ways. Work was a relief during this time. I complain about it a lot, but I do love it. 

In March, I returned to the States for a month for Cynthia's wedding. It was beautiful, of course, and it was great seeing her again. Talking to her always feels like such a relief, like nothing's ever going to change between us and that if there's one thing that I can rely on to be constant in my life, it's my friendship with her. Her husband, Chris, was very sweet, very funny, and loves her very much (obvi), and I, naturally, think that he's lucky to have found a woman like Cynthia.

We don't like each other. 

Puppies kissing Cynthia before the ceremony

Cynthia walks down the aisle with her father

I also got to spend some time with my mother. We took a trip to central California, to Solvang, and its surrounding towns. This place was like weird farm central. We went to an ostrich farm, a miniature horse farm, a miniature donkey farm and a lavender farm. My mom also accompanied me to a beer brewery, called Figueroa Mountain Brewery.

miniature ponies!

miniature donkeys! (This one was sweet)

The donkey was trying to get my mom to pet him. 

Ostriches are fucking freakish looking. Also ginormous, and have huge talons. 

Then New York, which was exhilarating and exhausting. I stayed with Marissa, and just had a schedule full of seeing family, friends, mentors, and former colleagues. I drank way too much beer, ate way too much good food, and spent... not as much money as I expected, which was a nice surprise given how expensive the city can be. But I guess since I was visiting from Cambodia, everyone seemed to want buy me lunch, dinner, drinks. I also got to go to a concert in Bushwick, which made me so happy. Haven't heard live music in ages. The band was Crushed Out aka Boom Chick -- a drum/guitar duo. They were great.

View of uptown from my uncle's office. He works near WTC.

My cousin. She got so big! And understands words now. 

I meet the Polish hotties in the East Village.

I miss these girls so much. 

got a hipster card from the girls

Last week, May 3, was my two-year anniversary in Cambodia with Emily. We didn't do much -- just had sushi for dinner to commemorate it, then went out drinking with a buddy who was back in town.

Two years in Cambodia. Nuts.

Anyway, it's been a pretty eventful four months. I'm glad that I was more willing to put myself out there and do different things, but obviously there have been some down sides to being unwilling to settle down and allow myself to be ok with just. sitting. still. But I'm trying, right now, I really, really am. I've even started reading again -- besides that Ron Vitale book I reviewed below, I've read three other books. I'm aware that puts me way behind my CBR5 goal of 26, but I'll keep trying.

(*My friend, Ben, has more photos of Phnom Penh at his tumblr. He's a great photographer.)

Cali shots

For Cynthia's wedding, I took a month off from work. Stopping over in California for two weeks, I managed to take a lot of photos (because I was so goddamn bored there). I also briefly considered on starting photo project of all the cul de sacs in our stupid, boring little town, but my lack of driving skills put an end to it. 

Nevertheless, here are some of northern Cali, where it was only about 10 degrees warmer than snowy New York, where I stopped in for two weeks as well

Cul de sac

Same cul de sac, different settings

Even my cat was bored

Nothing says suburban ennui like skateboarders in an empty park

I skateboarded too!

Word.

Sun setting

I went to San Francisco for a day to meet up with friends

I know these three from three different groups of friends. It was awesome to have them together.

Walking to Delores Park with beers to hang out

attempting close-ups

lavender shoes

Once I got to New York, I barely took any photos just because I got so busy.

Craving coffee in Vietnam

Sitting in a coffee shop in Hoi An looking at my photos.

When we were in Vietnam, we kept going on a search for good, Western-style coffee. While I enjoy the thick, sweet-flavored coffee that are usually served in most places in Vietnam (and also in Cambodia), we started to miss the familiar kick of espresso. In Hoi An, we found this little coffee shop that actually had a Lavazza machine! The first we've seen in Vietnam!

The owner of this little joint boasted that foreigners would come back day after day on their vacation just for their poison since theirs is the only place with a superior Italian coffee-brewing machine. Well, call us typical, but we stopped back at least once a day for the three days we spent in Hoi An.

Also, despite its sign, the place does not serve banh mi sandwiches.

I'm back! I promise!

Hi! It's been a long while! Did I mention that I went to Vietnam in February?

Fruit and flower sellers on the streets of Hanoi, near the Shoe Market.

I went to Vietnam in February! It was fabulous and I had so much fun. When I have more time, I will (try) to blog about my trip.

Until then, I got inspired by my best friend, Cynthia, to try to make an effort with this blog. The girl is blogging every day with arts and crafts or recipe ideas! Talk about motivation. You can see her work here. Some of her ideas are really interesting and fun — others seem just way too time-consuming (Or maybe it's just me because, if you haven't gathered from my lack of blog posts, I am extremely lazy.)

Anyway, I've been wanting to share some photos I took in Vietnam anyway, so consider this a primer for more to come.

Weekend in Siem Reap!

I went to Siem Reap with Emily two weekends ago since her parents were in town. It was really nice and super surreal—kind of felt like I was leaving real life for 2 days. Though it only 5 hours away by van, even just a quick jaunt out of Phnom Penh was such a welcome break from the city.

Our friend, Christi, had said that Siem Reap's like Disneyland for adults, and she is not wrong. The entire city is laid out so perfectly and everything seems to be comfortably walkable. There's a street where you can get drunk (allegedly. Emily and I were so beat from temple-hopping that we just stayed in our rooms and watched SYTYCD), and if you want to feel cultured, you can go to the temples. We only had one day to do the temples, so we asked our tour guide, Sokun, to take us to the three best.

First stop is Ta Prohm, which is better known as the temple where Angelina Jolie shot Tomb Raider. It was seriously hilarious how every single tour guide seem to have met Angelina Jolie. "Oh yea, I met her when I helped with the set design team of Tomb Raider," Sokun said. "She's very sexy." (I know it sounds like I think he's lying—he probably is—but that seems to be the schpiel that every tour guide dropped at this temple. I think they think Westerners really like Angelina Jolie, which you know, they're not wrong about.)


Sokun was an amazing tour guide and really informative, but I'll give you my cliff notes version: There are some very large, enormous trees in this temple. Some of the temple is actually held up by the giant tree roots, so if you cut down the trees, you will be removing an integral part of the temple's foundation.

I took a lot of photos of all three temples, but my photos will just not be able to convey the awesomeness of each temple. So I'll try to show off my favorite parts of each temple. Like this! Dinosaur carvings!!!

See the Stegosaurus?

It was really funny how Sokun pointed those out. He was showing us some intricate carvings with Apsara dancers on them, just describing in detail how each dancer is in a different position. Then he went on the other side of the column and just pointed at it and said, "Look. Dinosaurs." then walked away. Subtext: Westerners get Angelina Jolie and dinosaurs. No explanation required.

On our way to the second temple

Emily contemplating the giant face gate to the Bayon temple

The second temple was called Bayon, and it's famous for having enormous statues of faces.

There was a really intricate depiction of an epic battle on a stone wall. The creators of the wall even carved out different features for the different nationalities battling—for example, the Khmers had longer ear lobes, the Chinese had smaller eyes and wore hats and the Vietnamese looked kind of like mean monsters. (Quick Cambodia cultural lesson: Cambodians really don't like the Vietnamese. The word "Yuon" is the Khmer word for Vietnamese, but it also has a derogatory connotation to it.) Here's about a tenth of the wall with Sokun.

Did I mention that Sokun was awesome? I know i'm not saying too much about the temples and its histories (and frankly, a quick google search would probably do it far more justice than my half-remembered made-up blabbings) but he really had just this wealth of information. I know he probably could have been making half the shit up and I wouldn't have noticed, but he would go along with all these facts, and then correct himself after because he wanted it to be right. We basically spent the entire day with him and though I don't remember too many historical facts about the temple, I now know a lot about him and his life, and man, he is one fucking interesting person.

Here is a family photo of Em and I:


There were also Buddhist shrines set up in various parts of Bayon, with old ladies manning them. One of them beckoned at us and gave us a joss stick to offer to the shrine. Thanks to my buddhist upbrining, I knew that I had to bring the joss stick up to my heart, down to my head then out to the statue (If I remember correctly, it symbolizes giving what's in your mind and what's in your heart). Then I gave a little bow for extra effect. Emily did an awkward half bow with her joss sticks...

After we gave our offerings, the old ladies tied a red string band around our wrists. Emily told me that the lady who gave her the wristlet whispered a blessing of sorts, like good fortune for your future, etc. I didn't get a blessing (I don't think. I might have just been oblivious—it was a semi-emotional experience, to be honest) but it just felt really very nice, and I'm still wearing my red band.


Our third and final temple was the Angkor Wat temple. Here it is in all its reflective glory:



My favorite part about this temple was being able to go up to the highest level and looking out. The highest level is also kind of a bitch to get to—you gotta hoof up these very steep rickety metal steps that were constructed just for tourists because the actual stone steps would just be impossible to climb up. And you might not think you get vertigo, until you look down and realize that you could very well fall to your death.

Once I got up to the top, it was like I've been removed from the crowd of tourists and it's totally peaceful and I kind of got why these kings would want to even climb up those steep 72 steps (yea, fact-check that) to pray.

View from the top, in a photo that really does no justice to how great it feels to be on top of the world:

I saw monks on the way out of Angkor Wat.

Next, Sokun took us to the floating villages of Siem Reap. These river communities live on the Tonle Sap river and their entire lives take place there. They have floating school houses and it's very strange to see kids carrying backpacks and leaving the school, except instead of stepping into a car, they are just jumping into a boat.