Dear Mr. Orhan Pamuk:
I just finished writing a letter to you, but luckily for the both of us, I guess, something went terribly wrong and the original letter has been lost in space. You might know how this feels because you have the tendency to write endless lines that only makes the reader more frustrated than content for having reached another chapter in a book that surpasses 500 pages!!!! Yes, it's best that previous letter was electronically disintegrated for it would have upset us both. For starters, I had exclamation points all over the place! You see, I wanted to slap Kemal's face so many times for being so dumb and stupidly in love with a woman we all knew had a dubious personality to state the least.
Perhaps, you could have given the reader a brief history about Trouvadours who would spend enless years in love with a woman who was completely oblivious to the feelings so secretly felt by one of these men. Come on now, spending more than 7 years idolizing Fusun for no reason whatsoever? I am truly upset my previous message intended to express my anger for having had lost so much of my precious time in reading a novel that was forever endless detailing the grandeur of the Bosphorus, instead of waking up Kemal and making him come to his senses in order to cure his pathetic and platonic love for that immature girl. And not for anything, but it was strange to witness how Kemal would do everything possible to steal the most idiotic things touched by this mirage of a real woman.
Yes, you its writer did make your most important appearance in your own tedious novel á la Hitchcock, but come on did you truly have to portray this insanely enamored man as a typical Cyrano Bergerac? There were times in which I wanted Sibel to return to him and have him awaken from his tumultuous expectations.
But I would even congratulate the fact that she was simply erased from his head as Fusun was the only being he could think of day and night. Did this man even eat? How creepy it feels to have a man remove the most insignificant things from my boudoir or even from the ashtray. I am surprised he was not even daring enough to steal her dirty bloomers.
Mr. Pamuk you made me read 532 pages, yes 532 pages about a man who caused me more anger than pity. One way ensuring that I nor readers like me would put down your novel and discard it altogether because we might skip something within your endless story of a man who basically committed his entire life in the pursuit of a woman we all knew was a knuckle brain, manipulative, and let me scream it, nahh why should I? At least Don Quijote convinced its readers those windmills were truly giants! The Museum of Innocence ensured to me that men like Kemal are very few and perhaps, men like him should be treated precisely the way Fusun treated him.
Respectfully yours,
Profesora Loaiza
Copyright©Profesora Loaiza 2012
