Istanbul-born writer Defne Suman evokes the city and its changes in her novel The Circle and sets The Silence of Scheherazade in the Ottoman Empire. She has drawn parallels between an ethnic expulsion of old and the modern-day gentrification sparked by global capitalism.
In an interview with Al Majalla, she explains how she writes, where inspiration can come from, why it can be harder for women writers to get into a routine and how short stories are more difficult to put together than novels.
In your novel The Circle, the 75-year-old narrator tells the story of Istanbul's deterioration—starting from the COVID-19 era and working backwards to the 1950s. Can you tell us more about the writing process of this multilayered novel, in which you discuss cultural identity, loss, and gentrification?
I wanted it to be a book of personal accounts—a way to witness the passing of time. The narrator, Mr Periklis—who is old in age but young at heart—is recounting his experience in the first weeks of the COVID-19 pandemic while recalling his past.
During the lockdown, he makes friends with his neighbours and even falls in love with one of them. They all join forces to fight against the gentrification of their neighbourhood and try to save their beautiful apartment building, which was constructed in 1922.
The first thing that struck me when I started taking notes for The Circle was the expulsion of Greeks from Istanbul in 1964. The Turkish nation-state has worked to expel Greeks since its inception, and this final attempt in 1964 was a real nail-biter. The Greeks, who held passports from Greece, were deported along with their families and relatives who held Turkish citizenship.
This was the final nail in the coffin for Istanbul’s unique cosmopolitan demography. In just 48 hours in 1964, the city lost 30,000 of its Greek residents.
The loss of such a vibrant community was tragic, but it gave me a perfect opportunity to write a novel about this tragic loss at the centre of the novel. It's incredible to think that 50-60 years later, we can still feel the ghost of once-upon-a-time-lived Greek lives in certain districts of Istanbul.
Abandoned buildings, empty alleys, weed-grown sad gardens, churches with no people on Sundays... It's a fascinating insight into what life was like for the old and lonely Greeks who stayed in town. Through my novel, I was able to reveal what's been going on there for decades.
The gentrification of Istanbul cannot be understood without considering the deliberate attempts to cleanse its population of non-Muslim minorities. This project aimed to transfer the wealth of the Greek bourgeois to the emerging Turkish capitalist class. Sixty years later, corporate capitalism has engulfed Istanbul, erasing all traces of a multi-religious past.
Delighted be one of the first stops on the blog tour for The Silence of Scheherazade by Defne Suman.
A beautiful and breathtaking read. This is a must read for historical fiction fans.
Read my full review: https://t.co/tpZZoVpTF3#Scheherazade pic.twitter.com/3jAawy3wFy
— Laura Patricia Rose Reads(@Lauraprosereads) August 16, 2021
Your novel The Silence of Scheherazade provides a multifaceted view of life for people in the Ottoman Empire, spanning various social classes. How did you research and capture the nuances of daily life during that era? Also, why did you choose that title for your book, with Scheherazade known as the narrator in One Thousand and One Nights?
I spent two years researching The Silence of Scheherazade. I learned every detail of life in Smyrna between 1905 and 1922, when the book's story takes place. I was fortunate to find a great deal of material. I was living in the United States at the time.
I read the newspapers of the era and also leafed through the women’s magazines. I collected postcards and photos, and I read the letters and diaries of Greeks, Turks, and Levantines who lived in Smyrna at the time. I read every possible book about old Smyrna, collected insurance maps, and learned the names of the streets and squares.
I even managed to spot the locations of some of the long-lost churches and schools. I also found the addresses of the taverns, hotels, shops and bazaars. There’s a huge amount of oral history records too, which are really fascinating.
Many of them were kids then, who later told their stories about life in Smyrna before, during, and after the Great Fire of Smyrna. I read all their accounts. The destruction of multilingual/multiethnic Smyrna is a touchy subject in Turkey.
The Turkish official history does not acknowledge the significant loss in September 1922 when Greek armies retreated and the Turkish army entered the city. More than half of the city’s population—which comprised Greeks, Armenians, and Levantines—was deliberately erased from national memory.
To narrate this tale, I chose Scheherazade—a woman who is silenced or who chooses to be quiet to survive the dominant power structures. She quietly relays the story of a lost paradise—the story of her town’s destruction.
In 1001 Nights, if Scheherazade stops telling stories, she will be killed. Therefore, a quiet Scheherazade could be interpreted as a part of memory that is no longer accessible or perhaps as a piece of history that is dying before it is considered taboo.
Alternatively, it could be seen as an attempt to highlight the potential consequences of a nation’s dirty laundry if they are not confronted and discussed openly.
