海角大神

Nobel laureate and Turkey鈥檚 most famous living author Orhan Pamuk recently opened his Museum of Innocence in Istanbul's 脟ukurcuma neighborhood. Housed in a wine-red, four-story building constructed in 1897, the museum takes its name from Mr. Pamuk鈥檚 2008 novel of the same name听and is a tribute to the "profane magic" of Turkish everydayness, featuring 83 display cases (one for each chapter of the book) filled with ordinary objects drawn from the novel.

The first display greeting the visitor to the museum is the 鈥渃igarette wall,鈥� which showcases 4,213 cigarettes smoked by F眉sun, one of the characters in Pamuk鈥檚 novel. The exhibit is accompanied by a film reel, shot by Pamuk himself, showing a woman's hand movements as she smokes and taps her cigarette, and beneath each cigarette stub is a handwritten note about the day in which it was stolen; "Earthquake," reads one such inscription.

Writing in the Guardian, Pamuk described the perspective visitors should adopt when viewing the objects on display: 鈥淰isitors to my Museum of Innocence must compel themselves 鈥� to view all objects displayed therein 鈥� the buttons, toys, F眉sun鈥檚 combs, tickets and old photographs 鈥� not as real things in the present moment, but as my memories." Pamuk has also emphasized that not all the display panels are complete: The New York Times quotes the author saying, "I will add a new episode to the story, new objects, new ideas, new little exhibitions by other artists."

Set in the 1970s, "The Museum of Innocence" tells the story of Kemal Basmaci, a prosperous Turkish businessman, and his love affair with a shopgirl of lower class (who happens to be a distant cousin) named F眉sun Keskin. After ending the affair, Kemal experiences deep remorse and tries unsuccessfully to woo F眉sun back. The lovelorn protagonist becomes increasingly estranged from society and his friends, who write him off as quixotic. Thus begins the process of sublimated repossession. In a period of 2,864 days, Kemal obsessively collects objects (some are pilfered) that remind him of his beloved. Thousands of cigarette stubs bearing the trace of F眉sun鈥檚 lip rouge, among other objects, are set aside in Kemal鈥檚 room, which he intends to refurbish into a 鈥渕useum of innocence.鈥� ("Happiness," the last chapter in "The Museum of Innocence,"听includes one single admission ticket to the museum, which readers can redeem.)

Some objects in the physical Museum of Innocence were amassed from flea markets, antique shops, and private collections, but many, including a toothbrush collection, belonged to the author himself. Pamuk said, 鈥淭he Museum of Innocence 鈥� just like the novel 鈥� is about the line between fiction and reality. The whole art of a novel is about readers asking themselves did the author really live this or did he imagine this? More or less, I did the same thing with the museum.鈥�

According to Pamuk, the idea for his museum and his 2008 novel 鈥渆volved together.鈥� Pelin Kivrak, Pamuk鈥檚 assistant at the museum, told me, 鈥淢ost of the objects [in the museum] were collected by Orhan himself when he was writing the book. He wrote the novel by looking at those objects and imagining stories about them. He was extremely meticulous as he created compositions out of these single objects in the vitrines. He drew detailed outlines of each and every vitrine and realized his ideal compositions by trial and error. It took him so much time to do that.鈥�

Ms. Kivrak identified the time spiral embedded in the museum鈥檚 floor as one of the most intriguing creations on display. Visible from every floor of the museum, the spiral is studded with large golden dots, which 鈥渞epresent the happy moments in Time.鈥� One wall carries these words by Kemal:

鈥淢y life has taught me that remembering听Time 鈥� that line connecting all the moments that Aristotle called the present 鈥� is for most of us rather painful.

However, if we can learn to stop thinking of life as a line corresponding to Aristotle鈥檚听Time, treasuring our听time听instead for its deepest moments, then lingering eight years at our beloved鈥檚 dinner table no longer seems strange and laughable. Instead, this courtship signifies 1,593 happy nights by F眉sun鈥檚 side.

It was to preserve these happy moments for posterity that I collected this multitude of objects large and small that once felt F眉sun鈥檚 touch, dating each one to hold it in my memory.鈥�

That Pamuk's Wunderkammer, a project nearly 15 years in the making, has finally been realized represents a significant historic achievement. Erda臒 G枚knar, Professor of Turkish studies at Duke University and author of the forthcoming "Orhan Pamuk, Secularism and Blasphemy," wrote in an email to me, 鈥淧amuk has accomplished a first by writing a novel of objects and by producing a museum that is a novel. This is an achievement that blurs the boundary between object and text in a way that redefines the novel genre. Pamuk has again written Istanbul into world literature.鈥�

The painstaking process of bringing a museum to fruition might have been enough work for anyone. Not so for Pamuk. The author has written a book about the museum, entitled "The Innocence of Objects," which will be published by Abrams Books in October, 2012.听According to the book's press release, it catalogs the museum's various exhibitions and also offers insight into 鈥渢he psychology of the collector, the proper role of the museum, the uses of photography in modernizing societies, and of course the customs and traditions of [Pamuk鈥檚] beloved city. The book鈥檚 imagery is equally evocative, ranging from pop ephemera that has become 鈥榗ollectible,鈥� to Pamuk鈥檚 superb collection of haunting photographs and movie stills of old Istanbul."

To end on a reflective note, we include an excerpt from Pamuk's "Modest Manifesto for Museums" (part of "Innocence of Objects") in which he contends that museums, instead of advancing narratives of nations, should move to reconstruct the world of individual human beings:听"[Large national museums]听present the history of the nation 鈥� history, in a word 鈥� as being far more important than the histories of individuals. This is unfortunate because ... everyday stories of individuals are richer, more humane, and much more joyful."

Rhoda Feng is a Monitor contributor.