“Istanbul is like a toxic love”

Elif Şafak, who wrote “Father and Bastard”, her latest book, while shuttling between America and Turkey, talks of her Istanbul: “Always a sui generis character. Always feminine. I'm deeply attached to Istanbul.”


Elif Şafak is blessed with an incredibly rare persona. She lives with crowds inside her. A book emerges each time she is able to free her soul from them. Her slender, fine, sad and blond image in the lens reveals a desire to hide herself. She pretends not to be here at all. The majority of her crowd consists of individuals from the edges of life, defined as “other” by those who define themselves as “normal”. Their languages, thoughts and lives are different. Their essences are fed by the author's own life, itself unlike those of many others. Elif Şafak manages to delve into the subconscious of her characters just like a twin soul, touching their most intimate sides. Born in Strasbourg, brought up in many cities, the writer now spends her time travelling between America, where she lectures, and Turkey.

How and when did this wealth of imagination emerge?

I believe I have two mysterious doors. Behind the first one lies my own internal imagination. This is where the layers of my childhood and subconscious hide. This door is wide open when I'm writing; at other times it remains firmly shut.

Behind the second door lies what I have absorbed from the outside. Sometimes I feel as though I were absorbing the voices, colours and stories around me like a dry sponge. We always think of writers as narrators but a good writer has to be a very good listener first and foremost. I love listening to people. I listen to both their stories as well as they way of telling those stories. When I start to write, things I have previously heard come back. The stories I have listened to and the observations I have made all seep into my writing. I am fed by life itself.

No characters  are obvious before starting to write the novel. They come into being during the writing adventure.

You have countries, cities and different languages. Which of those locations and languages are dominant?

I didn't really grow up in a family environment. I was raised lacking continuity. Life was a pattern of breakages. I suppose I always had a migratory side and always will. Some people panic when forced outside their comfort zones. But if I were to be taken away suddenly, at this moment, and dropped in a country I'm completely unfamiliar with, I would find my way around and stand proud. Migration has become something of an instinct for me. Staying on the same spot is akin to slavery for me. I ought to be able to go away so I can return. I cannot grow eternal roots anywhere. This may be good for art but is certainly tiring for the artist. Naturally it is stressful for my husband and nearest and dearest with whom I share my life. But this imbalance balances me out. Migration feeds art as it constantly offers nourishment form new places and new cultures. But it is also tiring for the artist as you're never certain of the ground beneath your feet. You lack a protected universe. My perceptions may stay sharp but this also probably makes me more suspicious. I do place great importance on multi-culturality, plurality and being cosmopolitan.

 

A part of me has always been a wanderer.

I can't say I'm the person who can strike roots to one place. This is good for the soul not for  the body.

 

 

Which is your main city?

I do have a main city: Istanbul. Always Istanbul. This city has always held a fundamental role in my novels and in my life. I have never treated Istanbul as a background in my novels, but rather, always as a main character. Always feminine. I am deeply attached to Istanbul. But her jealousy and possessiveness do constrict my heart from time to time. That is why I need to get away occasionally. Like a toxic love. I ought to be able to leave so I may return to Istanbul. I'm probably most fond of the returns from afar and the longing arrivals. This city is an indescribable dream. I want to wake up from time to time, shake myself so that I may describe.