![]() However, he is so frank in his account of his helpless and obsessive love and luxuriates so bittersweetly in his memories that he gained my sympathy. That in 1975 Kemal was a wealthy thirty-year-old member of Istanbul bourgeois society and Füsun a poor eighteen-year-old shop girl does not speak well for him. “All these years later,” the Istanbul businessman narrator Kemal is recounting the time in Istanbul when, despite having had a compatible cosmopolitan fiancée named Sibel, the happiest moment in his life (though he didn’t know it at time) was when he was entering his distant relative (or in-law) Füsun from behind and biting her ear and losing her earring, which accessory “is the first exhibit in our museum.” It must be the Museum of Innocence, but what kind of museum is it? And what kind of “innocence”? And who is “our”? Memories, Museums, Objects, Time, Love, and Istanbul ![]()
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