The Museum of Innocence

“3 We don’t need more museums that try to construct the historical narratives of a society, community, team, nation, state, tribe, company, or species. We all know that the ordinary, everyday stories of individuals are richer, more humane, and much more joyful.​

4 Demonstrating the wealth of Chinese, Indian, Mexican, Iranian, or Turkish history and culture is not an issue—it must be done, of course, but it is not difficult to do. The real chal­lenge is to use museums to tell, with the same brilliance, depth, and power, the stories of the individual human beings living in these countries.

5 The measure of a museum’s success should not be its ability to represent a state, a nation or company, or a particular history. It should be its capacity to reveal the humanity of individuals.”        

    -Orphan Pamuk, Manifesto of the Museum of Innocence  

I started the book Istanbul by Turkish Nobel Prize winner Orphan Pamuk before we left for Turkey.  It was going to help me get a feel for the neighborhoods of Istanbul.  

But in Istanbul, I learned of another Pamuk book that people recommended.The Museum of Innocence. An intriguing aspect was the fact that there is a Museum of Innocence in Istanbul that is related to the book. More than that.  It’s part of the book.  So much so that if you have a copy of the book, you get in free.  Mine was an audio book from the library so I didn’t get in free.

The Museum of Innocence - The book

Kemal is part of the post Ottoman Empire 1970s elite.  Rich, educated, well travelled, and engaged to even richer Sibel. But one day he reconnects with Füsun, a cousin, part of a poorer side of the family,  he hasn’t seen since she was a child.  They begin a passionate love affair that takes over his life and the book.  

In telling this bizarre and tragic obsessive love story, Pamuk also reveals layers of socio-economic webs that capture and tie together the people of Istanbul. 

There’s the decaying legacy of the Ottoman Empire, which the elite try to cover with European fashion and culture, though the physical remnants of thousands of years of Byzantine and Ottoman engineering and architecture dominates people’s lives.   

A key theme, I’m guessing the theme of the book’s title, involves the difference between what’s allowed of men and women.  Virginity before marriage is daringly challenged by upper class women who flirt with European mores, but ultimately they live in Turkey and even the chic look down on marrying women who have slept with someone other than their fiancee.  

Kemal has taken the virginity of both his fiancée and his lover.  In the first instance it would not be a problem if they didn’t break off the engagement.  In the latter case, we learn late in the book, it does, very much matter to Füsun. 

There’s also a fair amount on Turkish cinemas and movies.  

I have to admit that at one point I was getting weary of Kemal’s over-the-top obsession with Füsun.  But I’m sure there are readers who can relate to that situation better.  And it all works - as a novel and as a museum - in the end.  

Listening to the book, means I got to hear how names and places were pronounced, but not how they were spelled.  So some neighborhoods challenged me as I tried to locate them on maps.  But overall, the book gave me a richer sense of Istanbul than I would have otherwise noticed, and also reminded me how Istanbul was wrapped in millennia of nuance that I would never come close to understanding.  

The Museum of Innocence - The Museum

It’s easier to do pictures from a museum, than from a book - especially an audio book.  

The Galata Tower is a major landmark in Istanbul. This first picture is from the Istanbul Modern (the modern art museum.). The tower is the one on the left.  The other one is a minaret from a mosque.  

Here we see the Tower from across the Golden Horn in Eminönü.  The Galata bridge is the black line that goes from the middle of the left side across the water.     Below you see it much closer up.  

The map should give map people a better sense of things.  The Galata Tower is pretty much in the middle of the map.  The Museum of Innocence is about where the red marker is.  Istanbul Modern is toward the water below the blue marker that says European side.  

The picture looking out over the water was taken a bit to the right of the southern side of the bridge, about where it says “Haman.” 

(All the land here is on the European Side.  The waterway going up to the left is the Golden Horn which has a series of bridges and ferries crossing it.  The Asian side would be in the right, but isn’t shown.)

The hotel we stayed at when we were in Istanbul, was right near the mosque (Ayasofia) at the bottom. 

This is all pretty close.  From our hotel to the museum was maybe 4 or 5 km.  

The ‘start’ on the map is where we started up the hills to the Museum.  Though we went by the Galata Tower on the way. Not very direct.

The streets are cobblestone, steep, and narrow.  Sometimes cars come through.  More often motorcycles.  

The Museum of Innocence is in an old house in a neighborhood near where much of the book takes place.  All the cabinets are labeled by chapter and are filled with items which Kemal says he collected during the events of the book, but which the author, who is a minor character in the book, said came from various collections and from thrift shops,

Each cabinet (or larger display) is numbered with the corresponding chapter of the book.
 

The sign at the bottom of this one says:

“In those days [1970s], even in Istanbul’s most affluent Westernized circles, a young girl who ‘gave herself’ to a man before marriage could still expect to be judged harshly and face serious consequences:  If a man tried to avoid marrying the girl, and the girl in question was under eighteen years of age, an angry father might take the philanderer to court to force him to marry her.  It was the custom for newspapers to run photographs with black bands over the “violated” girls’ eyes.  Because the press used the same device in photographs of adulteresses, rape victims, and prostitutes, the photographs of women with black bands over their eyes were so numerous that reading a Turkish newspaper in those days was like wandering through a masquerade.”

On the fourth floor is the bed where Kemal and Füsun met.