Description

Paperback. Pbo. 4to. (29 x 21 cm). In English and Turkish. 194, [1] p. I have to confess, when I was given the pictures (apologies for not saying 'photographs', never warmed to this notion) if this book to 'look', first thing I thought of was a poem by Cemal Süreya, and the book of the same name, Göcebe, where he says Istanbul's minarets are 'lyrical' and its bridges are 'dialectic' and the crucial lines; 'You know, at whichever city I am / That is the capital of loneliness'. Süreya differentiates 'city' from 'capital' which is actually the city of Istanbul, where s/he becomes more lonely and plain. Just like the alienation, residue, and exceptional expressiveness of migration that makes us think of tales, awakens dreams, and burns like embers inside our bosoms which can also makes us shiver as we watch the pictures. Well, maybe we can not see the sentences of the poverty but as the words forming a lexicon, every possible, 'echo' (each 'word') reflects towards our gaze. Reflecting on the dialectic of the 'bridges' Cemal Süreya mentions, just as Ece Ayhan says (Ece's name has to be mentioned, otherwise cemal would be offended, I am sure) the 'arab' (negative) of the picture, is formed as the background.