When Pera Trees Whisper

Stok Kodu:
9786051417387
Boyut:
14x23
Sayfa Sayısı:
445
Baskı:
2
Basım Tarihi:
2017-11
Kapak Türü:
Ciltsiz
Kağıt Türü:
2. Hamur
Kategori:
%22 indirimli
165,00TL
128,70TL
Taksitli fiyat: 9 x 15,73TL
9786051417387
980877
When Pera Trees Whisper
When Pera Trees Whisper
128.70

As one of Turkey's most successful contemporary writers, Ahmet Ümit has so far published more than 20 novels. Although these are generally associated with the literary genre of crime fiction, psychological, social and philosophical aspects are also essential elements in his works. In the fast-paced novel When Pera Trees Whisper, the Gezi Park Resistance plays an important part in the story, taking readers to the legendary places in Istanbul that had a dramatic role in this massive uprising in Turkey's very recent history.

Darkness…

Darkness made much heavier by the cold. From a distance, songs reach his ear, the jovial shrieks of women, exaggerated drunken wails. Someone is cursing, perhaps to the heavens. Perhaps someone is sobbing, and just maybe someone is dying in the midst of this cacophony, this uproar. He doesn't give a damn. He's shed it all off; there's just the rage… He walks without knowing where he is going, engulfed by hatred. That green-eyed monster, jealousy, has clutched his heart in its steely claw and is squeezing away.

Women, says a voice from the depths of his consciousness…
Women. You cannot play around with them. You think you are playing with them but then the next thing you know, you've become the toy. In the street appear the faces of the women he's had in his life. Their images fall at his feet one by one. All of them with heads hung and eyes filled with grief... All of them heartbroken. He brushes it off, passing over and stepping on them like puddles, but the images fall onto the ground once again. Women, the voice says again. You can never escape them; their spirits will haunt you for the rest of your life...

Karanlık...

Soğuk havayla iyice ağırlaşan bir karanlık. Uzaklardan şarkılar geliyor kulağına, neşeli kadın çığlıkları, ayarını yitirmiş sarhoş naraları. biri küfrediyor belki ana avrat, belki ağlıyor biri hıçkıra hıçkıra, belki biri sessizce ölüyor bu gürültünün, bu hengâmenin ortasında. Umurunda değil. Hepsinden sıyrılmış, sadece öfke... Nereye gittiğini bilmeden yürüyor, nefret tarafından kuşatılmış olarak. Kıskançlık denen o canavar, çelikten pençesine almış yüreğini, habire sıkıyor.

“Kadınlar,” diyor bir ses zihninin derinliklerinden...

“Kadınlar, onlarla oynayamazsın... Oynadığını zannedersin ama bir de bakmışsın, asıl oyuncak sen olmuşsun.” Hayatına giren kadınların yüzleri beliriyor sokağın zemininde. Birer birer düşüyor görüntüleri ayaklarının dibine. Hepsinin boynu bükük, hepsinin gözlerinde keder. Hepsi üzgün... Aldırmıyor, bir su birikintisiymiş gibi basıp geçiyor üzerlerinden ama yeniden düşüyor görüntüler zemine. “Kadınlar,” diyor o ses yine, “Kadınlardan asla kurtulamazsın, hayaletleri hayatın boyunca seni takip eder.”

As one of Turkey's most successful contemporary writers, Ahmet Ümit has so far published more than 20 novels. Although these are generally associated with the literary genre of crime fiction, psychological, social and philosophical aspects are also essential elements in his works. In the fast-paced novel When Pera Trees Whisper, the Gezi Park Resistance plays an important part in the story, taking readers to the legendary places in Istanbul that had a dramatic role in this massive uprising in Turkey's very recent history.

Darkness…

Darkness made much heavier by the cold. From a distance, songs reach his ear, the jovial shrieks of women, exaggerated drunken wails. Someone is cursing, perhaps to the heavens. Perhaps someone is sobbing, and just maybe someone is dying in the midst of this cacophony, this uproar. He doesn't give a damn. He's shed it all off; there's just the rage… He walks without knowing where he is going, engulfed by hatred. That green-eyed monster, jealousy, has clutched his heart in its steely claw and is squeezing away.

Women, says a voice from the depths of his consciousness…
Women. You cannot play around with them. You think you are playing with them but then the next thing you know, you've become the toy. In the street appear the faces of the women he's had in his life. Their images fall at his feet one by one. All of them with heads hung and eyes filled with grief... All of them heartbroken. He brushes it off, passing over and stepping on them like puddles, but the images fall onto the ground once again. Women, the voice says again. You can never escape them; their spirits will haunt you for the rest of your life...

Karanlık...

Soğuk havayla iyice ağırlaşan bir karanlık. Uzaklardan şarkılar geliyor kulağına, neşeli kadın çığlıkları, ayarını yitirmiş sarhoş naraları. biri küfrediyor belki ana avrat, belki ağlıyor biri hıçkıra hıçkıra, belki biri sessizce ölüyor bu gürültünün, bu hengâmenin ortasında. Umurunda değil. Hepsinden sıyrılmış, sadece öfke... Nereye gittiğini bilmeden yürüyor, nefret tarafından kuşatılmış olarak. Kıskançlık denen o canavar, çelikten pençesine almış yüreğini, habire sıkıyor.

“Kadınlar,” diyor bir ses zihninin derinliklerinden...

“Kadınlar, onlarla oynayamazsın... Oynadığını zannedersin ama bir de bakmışsın, asıl oyuncak sen olmuşsun.” Hayatına giren kadınların yüzleri beliriyor sokağın zemininde. Birer birer düşüyor görüntüleri ayaklarının dibine. Hepsinin boynu bükük, hepsinin gözlerinde keder. Hepsi üzgün... Aldırmıyor, bir su birikintisiymiş gibi basıp geçiyor üzerlerinden ama yeniden düşüyor görüntüler zemine. “Kadınlar,” diyor o ses yine, “Kadınlardan asla kurtulamazsın, hayaletleri hayatın boyunca seni takip eder.”

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