The Bastard of Istanbul

I liked how the author shows how much the two nations have in common through one of the most central parts of both cultures — food.

The book touches on the Armenian Genocide and explores it from several angles, without trying to tell readers who is right and who is wrong. There are also descriptions of abuse and sexualised violence, so be aware going in!

I really liked the concept and overall execution, apart from a few significant flaws that affected the reading experience.

The literary style was occasionally overly dense — it felt forced at times, which made the book harder to read than it needed to be.

The last ~140 pages were genuinely interesting and I read them in one sitting. But before that, there were a lot of drawn-out and frankly boring stretches — scenes and descriptions that added nothing — along with a number of flat characters who could have been cut entirely without the story losing anything. Some of the Turkish characters felt implausible and a little too curated — something I probably wouldn’t have noticed as much if I hadn’t learned about Turkish culture firsthand through my husband and nearly two years of living there. The type: nihilists who speak fluent English, discuss art around the clock, write their own manifestos, and somehow know nothing about history at 19.

Some among the Armenians in the diaspora would never want the Turks to recognize the genocide. If they do so, they’ll pull the rug out from under our feet and take the strongest bond that unites us. Just like the Turks have been in the habit of denying their wrongdoing, the Armenians have been in the habit of savoring the cocoon of victimhood. Apparently, there are some old habits that need to be changed on both sides.

I immediately noticed that the book’s title and cover looked very different in Russian and English compared to the Turkish edition — which is titled Baba ve Piç (“Father and Bastard”), with a cover that doesn’t feature Istanbul at all. It seemed obvious the author had run into problems with the Turkish title and cover. And indeed — after the novel was published in Turkish and English in 2006, Elif Şafak was tried for insulting the Turkish nation under Article 301 of the Turkish Penal Code, based on statements made by Armenian characters in the book. She faced up to three years in prison, but the charges were ultimately dropped.

My husband also checked the Turkish reviews, and a lot of readers were unhappy — both because of the Armenian Genocide topic and because the author doesn’t clearly state her own position on it.