Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- Death Begins with the Loss of Our Cities…
- Are You Going to Be a Killer?
- An Idea Whose Time Has Come
- Your Decision
- Dogs Smelling Blood on a Hunt
- The Meaning of This Empire for Us
- Confronting Death
- The Ancient Wound
- The Essence of the State
- Becoming the Hunted
- Like Two Wistful Flowers
- The World's Greatest Mystery
- The Love That Will Never Fade
- What Does a Single Individual Matter?
- A Game of Revenge
- The Motherland Is Lost
- The Only Thing Keeping Me Alive
- No Intention of Surrendering
- A Man's Word Is His Honour
- An Inappropriate Sense of Compassion
- A Token of a Conversation
- I Am Not the One to Decide
- Miracles
- The Ability to Forgive Ourselves
- Losing One's Humanity
- No Choice But to Fight
- Give Me an Honourable Death
- The Walking Dead
- Save Yourself, Soldier
- Wishing for Help from the Dead
- Resign, Your Excellency!
- A False Sense of Security
- The True Power in the Land
- Betrothed to Life, Married to Death
- When the Wolf Dies in the Forest
- This Is Not Ankara
- Vultures Circling Over an Old Man
- Ignoble Alliances
- A Betrayal of Their Own History
- Fighting for a Lost Cause
- Evil Stalks This Land
- A Malevolent Rain
- A Fragmented Homeland, a Disintegrating World
- Turning Us All into Killers
- When I Began Losing My Country
- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland
- Glossary
When I Began Losing My Country
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- Death Begins with the Loss of Our Cities…
- Are You Going to Be a Killer?
- An Idea Whose Time Has Come
- Your Decision
- Dogs Smelling Blood on a Hunt
- The Meaning of This Empire for Us
- Confronting Death
- The Ancient Wound
- The Essence of the State
- Becoming the Hunted
- Like Two Wistful Flowers
- The World's Greatest Mystery
- The Love That Will Never Fade
- What Does a Single Individual Matter?
- A Game of Revenge
- The Motherland Is Lost
- The Only Thing Keeping Me Alive
- No Intention of Surrendering
- A Man's Word Is His Honour
- An Inappropriate Sense of Compassion
- A Token of a Conversation
- I Am Not the One to Decide
- Miracles
- The Ability to Forgive Ourselves
- Losing One's Humanity
- No Choice But to Fight
- Give Me an Honourable Death
- The Walking Dead
- Save Yourself, Soldier
- Wishing for Help from the Dead
- Resign, Your Excellency!
- A False Sense of Security
- The True Power in the Land
- Betrothed to Life, Married to Death
- When the Wolf Dies in the Forest
- This Is Not Ankara
- Vultures Circling Over an Old Man
- Ignoble Alliances
- A Betrayal of Their Own History
- Fighting for a Lost Cause
- Evil Stalks This Land
- A Malevolent Rain
- A Fragmented Homeland, a Disintegrating World
- Turning Us All into Killers
- When I Began Losing My Country
- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland
- Glossary
Summary
Hello Ester (Evening, Day 16)
Yes, I'm beginning with a ‘hello’, although this will be my last letter to you.
And no, I do not expect an answer, nor do I wish to alter or influence the course of your life. I just hope you understand. After I have written the last line of this letter and the last full stop is in place, I shan't be sending you any more. However, I shall never say goodbye to you. I may write ‘goodbye joy’ or ‘goodbye happiness’ or even ‘goodbye hope’ but my pen shall not write the words ‘goodbye Ester’. Not because there is a chance we may be reunited but because I shall take this halflived love of ours and this endless longing and this profound pain of mine to the grave. I am quite certain that I will never sit at this desk again. I have written enough, recounted enough and narrated enough. Any subsequent word will just cheapen life. It will render what we have been through ordinary and will stain the sanctity of my love for you. Nevertheless, I should get to the point. As one of our famous critics once wrote, the sentimentality of the novelist is an insufferable thing …
I woke up in serious pain this morning, a result of our little tête-à-tête with Mehmed Esad in the Ferah Theatre yesterday. When I looked at my body in the bathroom mirror, it was covered in bruises. Well, I suppose we're not as young as we used to be and our fighting days have long since been over. But there were so many questions racing around in my head that I quickly got dressed and rushed out of the Pera Palas to the hospital in Cerrahpaşa to see my old buddy Fuad, whom I no longer trusted in the slightest.
Although his left shoulder was heavily bandaged, he was in good spirits and he greeted me cheerfully. There was not a trace of guilt or remorse in his demeanour. Not a trace. He even had the nerve to tease me.
‘Well, well, Şehsuvar, old boy, you're here early. I knew you'd come but I must say, I wasn't expecting you here so soon.’ He then turned to the agent in the black leather jacket sitting next to his bed (and who'd most probably been there the whole night).
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- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland , pp. 617 - 626Publisher: Anthem PressPrint publication year: 2019