Remembering

[liberty]

As I get older and start to come to the end of my life, I find myself doing a lot more reflecting, especially now that I’m not working anymore. Lately I’ve been thinking about the books I’ve loved; some of my absolute favorites. One was The Bastard of Istanbul; another was Midnight Crossing. Those two were set in Turkey. I also liked The Hippopotamus, though I’ve never quite figured out what to think about that one. And of course English Passengers. There are many more, but those are the ones that have stayed with me strongly enough that I still remember the titles.

I especially remember the best moment in the bastard of Istanbul, where the girl, the bastard, is attending her uncle’s funeral. Her mother whispers something in her ear, and you see a look come over her face. She had always wanted to know her father. She looked down into the casket and said, “Baba.” I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.

[Burning Petard]

Liberty, you actually surprise me. Your favorite book was published less than twenty five years ago and it was written by, and promotes, radical feminism.

snailgate.

[liberty]

Liberty, you actually surprise me. Your favorite book was published less than twenty five years ago and it was written by, and promotes, radical feminism.

snailgate.

I know, did you think I was anti‑feminist? I love women.

Well, the woman I loved the most was my mother. I remember how bitterly she complained about the fact that she made less money than the man who worked in the same plant she did. They had higher‑paying jobs they wouldn’t let her have because she was a woman, even though she proved she could do the work by fixing her own sewing machine. She still didn’t get the job. I wouldn’t call my mother a feminist, but she was no weak‑willed woman, that’s for sure.

And when it was written is irrelevant to me. All that matters is how it affects me. That book had a lasting effect on me.

Midnight Crossing had a lasting effect on me too. I remember the main character spending time with a prostitute to satisfy his sexual needs, then spending the rest of his free time with his incapacitated wife, whom he kept in a nursing home. Because the home was in Turkey, he could afford it. He realized he was being slowly trapped by the Turkish secret service. Sooner or later he’d end up as their pawn, but he couldn’t afford to keep his wife anywhere else in any other country, and he couldn’t leave her. That is real love, and that had a lasting impact on me

[ex-khobar Andy]

Do you mean the Stephen Fry 'The Hippopotamus' novel? I like Fry and some of his other books, but I think I only got maybe 20 pages into that and put it down.