Farewell: A Mansion in Occupied Istanbul (Turkish Literature) Read Online Free PDF

throne represents us all. If it falls, we go down with it.”
    “Well let’s say it does fall. What do you plan to do? What are your thoughts?”
    “I’m a civil servant, a treasury official, authorized to act only by proxy. I’m not even a member of parliament. My thoughts don’t matter.”
    “They matter to me.”
    “Kemal, you already know what I think. We’ve been at war for years: Russia, the Balkans, Tripoli . . . And on and on. As for the Great War, it destroyed us. Nobody wants to wage another now. Our weapons, our ammunition—it’s all gone. Seized. Under these conditions, I naturally support the Sultan, I believe that the occupation will have to be resolved through diplomatic channels.”
    “You support the Sultan even if you admit he is at fault, don’t you?”
    “For generations my family has served, and been served by, the Palace. Don’t expect me to betray or defy my Padishah . And I have to advise you, my nephew, not to betray him either. It would be most unbecoming.”
    Kemal was silent. He was too frail to argue further, but hoped his uncle would remain here for a while, chatting, giving him news of the outside world. He’d been surrounded by women ever since his confinement to this room. He’d begun to find them unbearable.
    Re ş at Bey rose to his feet. “I woke you up. I’ll go now and let you sleep.”
    Kemal stretched his hand towards his uncle. “Don’t go yet. Stay with me. Let’s talk a little longer.”
    Re ş at Bey took a seat again at the foot of the bed. The two men held each other’s gaze for a moment. In his nephew’s exhausted eyes, Re ş at nearly caught a glimpse of his late mother.
    “Kemal, who visited you last week?” he asked in a soft voice.
    “When?”
    “You had a visitor last week. Who was it?”
    “Uncle, you’d think Abdülhamit had entrusted his secret agents to you as he was being deposed. How on earth did you hear about that?”
    “I have my ways.”
    “Do you really have spies in the house?”
    “Don’t upset me, Kemal. I want to know who it was.”
    “An old friend from the army.”
    “Your army friends froze to death.”
    “This one was captured; and now he’s back.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “Cemil Fuat. A distant relative of Fevzi Pasha.”
    “Is he a member of the Committee for Union and Progress?”
    “Are there any left? Almost all of them who went to Sarıkamı ş froze, and the few survivors repented. Those who remained behind were strung up, here, by the occupiers and Damat Ferit.”
    Re ş at Bey ignored his nephew’s bluntness. “What does he want?”
    “He came to see me. Must he want something?”
    “Every time you receive visitors something abominable happens.”
    “Look, uncle: am I in any state to involve myself in something dangerous? You know perfectly well that the only thing to emerge from this room will be my corpse.”
    “Heaven forbid! You’re still young. With enough rest and nourishment—if you keep your nose out of danger—you’ll be burying me one day, God willing. As things stand, there won’t be anyone else left to do it. War has claimed all the men of this family.”
    “Don’t fret about your corpse, dear Uncle. Your daughters are pretty enough that before long your house will be bursting with husbands. Who knows—maybe this time the boy you’ve always hoped for will come into the world, and push me off my throne.”
    “That’s enough of your prattling. Just promise that you won’t invite anyone else to the house.”
    “Well I certainly won’t invite anyone who might put you in danger.”
    “I’ve heard that before. But I haven’t forgotten the night our house was surrounded by the police.”
    Kemal had opened his mouth to speak but he was wracked by a fit of coughing. When it had passed, Re ş at Bey held the glass of milk out to his nephew. After several gulps, Kemal was able to speak again. “Uncle, I’ve heard that the Sultan’s son-in-law, İ smail Hakkı Bey, has sided