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Lale Eskicioglu Scar Tissue by Michael Ignatieff
The first time I met with Mr. Ignatieff, I was half way through his book Scar Tissue. I asked him if he could sign my book. He said, "You got me. You know authors are vain creatures and they love hearing that people are reading their books. Of course I will sign your copy." Then I told him that many of his books were translated into Turkish, including the Scar Tissue. He wasn't aware of this and he was happy to hear it. I also told him that I was disappointed with the Turkish title of Scar Tissue (Işığa Sarılmak-Embracing the Light), which was not a literal translation of the original title of the book. Mr. Ignatieff suggested that maybe I could translate his next book into Turkish, thereby making sure that the title and the content get translated correctly. I told him that I would love to do that.
At some point during the conversation, Michael Ignatieff mentioned "the most famous Turkish writer, Orhan Pamuk." I said, "Mr. Ignatieff, I have read all the books of Orhan Pamuk and I have read two of your books; in my humble opinion you are a better writer than Orhan Pamuk." Mr. Ignatieff, in his usual spontaneous witticism, replied: "Well, go tell it to the Nobel Committee." Scar Tissue is a beautifully written story of how one family deals with the saddest, most disturbing diseases of all times: Alzheimer. We all fear it and some of us have witnessed its ruthless destruction of the lives of our loved ones. The narrator in Scar Tissue gives an intensely personal account of his family's ordeal after his young and brilliant mother is struck by and early-onset form of this most dreaded disease. The narrator's depiction of the familial dynamics, the stages of the illness, his own emotions, and ultimately his fear, are so human that it feels real enough to take it all as Ignatieff's auto-biography. I do not know how much of it he really went through and how much of it is owing to his literary ability. But it is a good piece of literature for sure.
Ignatieff's account of the Turco-Russian War of 1877-78 may not seem to be flattering but it can be explained by the prevailing orientalism of the time. Both his great great grandfather ("Protector of the Russian Throne during His Majesty's absences on the field of battle against the Turks") and his great grandfather ("Russian ambassador to the court of the Turkish Sultan") having been entrusted with the task of defeating Turks, family narratives couldn't have been impartial. Ottoman Turkey stood as an obstacle in the way of Russia's geopolitical aims to reach the so-called warm-waters, the Mediterranean. Russia sought to destabilize the Ottomans and control the Turkish Straits ("He pleaded with the Tsar to take the campaign all the way to Constantinople, to make Russia at last master of the Dardanelles.") and create proxy regimes on Ottoman territories. So, the anti-Turkish bias of Ignatieff's grandfather is understandable to a certain extent. (Russian designs over Turkey were re-kindled after the end of the Second World War, which led Turkey to join the Western Alliance and become a NATO member in 1952.) But even the great grandfather Nicholas Ignatieff, the Russian ambassador in Istanbul, is not exempt from Mr. Ignatieff's honest account. In Michael Ignatieff's words, the ambassador "charmed the Sultan, while fomenting revolt behind his back. He was not above using blackmail to attain his ends." While Nicholas Ignatieff was touring "the capitals of Europe drumming up support for the Russian cause against the Turks," he was described as "a manipulator of phrases" by the English publication of the time, Vanity Fair. Some of his sayings, such as his claim that "The Ottoman Empire was an artichoke, whose leaves he would peel off at his leisure, one at a time," certainly explain the label of "manipulator of phrases."
While reading the Russian Album, one wonders if Michael Ignatieff could shake off the ancestral animosity towards what was once considered the greatest danger to Western civilization. My answer is a resounding "yes." Michael Ignatieff, a champion of human rights, has proven again and again that he is a man of integrity who is willing to re-evaluate his beliefs as the circumstances change, as new evidence comes along. Last year, when the Turkish community of Toronto delivered delicious Turkish food to his election campaign volunteers, he said so himself: "This is so much better than what we have been eating everyday. It changes my perception of the Turkish culture entirely."
Old Articles
by Lale Eskicioglu: |
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Everyone
knows that Michael Ignatieff, MP for Etobicoke-Lakeshore and the
Leader of the Liberal Party of Canada, and possibly a Prime Minister
of Canada in the years ahead, is an established author. But most
people do not know that he had written novels too. As one would
expect from a person of his background, most of Michael Ignatieff's
17 books are about Human Rights, Public Policy and International
Politics. But three of them are fiction: Asya (1991), Scar Tissue
(1993) and Charlie Johnson in the Flames (2003).
Next
time I met Mr. Ignatieff, I had finished reading the Scar Tissue
and I had absolutely loved it. However, I was surprised to see that,
in the book, he was referring to contemporary Istanbul as "Constantinople."
He does this in his other books as well, but those references are
within the context of the past events and don't stick out as much
as the ones in the Scar Tissue which mentions today's Istanbul.
I suspected that Mr. Ignatieff's use of the ancient name "Constantinople"
was not meant to convey any hidden and sinister meaning; rather
it was due to the fact that it gives his narration a mysterious
touch. Mr. Ignatieff assured me that this was indeed the reason
when I reproached him for not calling Istanbul by its modern name.
His delightful and adorable wife Zsuzsanna Zsohar promised me that
in the next print of the book, she would personally make sure that
the problem would be fixed.
Let's
stay with Ignatieff. His Russian Album, which won the 1987 Governor
General's Award, is his family's experiences in 19th century Russia,
and later, in Istanbul, in Southern France, and eventually, in Canada.
Ignatieff's ancestry is interesting. His grandmother Natasha Mestchersky's
maternal grandmother was Alexandra Tolstoy, Leo Tolstoy's daughter.
(There is the literary connection.) His great grandfather, Nicholas
Ignatieff was the Russian Ambassador to the Ottoman Empire between
1870 and 1877. (And, there is the Turkish connection.) In fact,
Michael Ignatieff's grandfather Paul Ignatieff was born in Istanbul.
