波波小说

波波小说>我的名字叫红 > 第14部分(第1页)

第14部分(第1页)

appeared everywhere; matching the tastes of mon soldiers; boorish pashas

and spoiled princes。”

“How much would they go for?” asked Master Osman。

62

“I  hear  that  the  great  Sadiki  Bey  illustrated  a  copy  of  Strange  Creatures;

missioned by an Uzbek spahi cavalryman; for only forty gold pieces。 In the

tent  of  a  vulgar  pasha  who  was  returning  from  his  Eastern  campaign  to

Erzurum; I beheld an album consisting of lewd pictures including paintings by

the virtuoso Siyavush。 A few great masters who hadn’t abandoned illustrating

were making and selling individual pieces; which weren’t part of any story at

all。  By  examining  such  single  leaves;  you  couldn’t  tell  which  scene  or  which

story  it  represented;  rather;  you  would  admire  it  for  its  own  sake;  for  the

pleasure  of  beholding  alone。  For  example;  you  might  ment;  ”This  is  the

exact likeness of a horse; how beautiful;“ and you’d pay the artist on this basis。

Scenes of bat or fucking are quite mon。 The price for a bustling battle

has  fallen  to  three  hundred  silver  coins;  and  there  are  hardly  any  interested

clients。  To  sell  pieces  on  the  cheap  and  to  better  lure  a  buyer;  some  simply

draw  in  black  ink  on  nonsized;  unfinished  paper  with  nary  a  brushstroke  of

color。”

“There  was  a  gilder  of  mine  who  was  content  as  content  could  be  and

talented as talent would allow;” said Master Osman。 “He saw to his work with

such  elegance  that  we  referred  to  him  as  ”Elegant  Effendi。“  But  he  has

abandoned  us。  It’s  been  six  days;  and  he’s  not  to  be  found  anywhere。  He’s

plain disappeared。”

“How could anyone quit such a workshop as this; such a joyous hearth?” I

said。

“Butterfly;  Olive;  Stork  and  Elegant;  the  four  young  masters  whom  I’ve

trained  since  they  were  apprentices;  now  work  at  home  at  Our  Sultan’s

behest;” said Master Osman。

This  apparently  came  about  so  they  could  work  more  fortably  on  the

Book of Festivities with which the entire workshop was involved。 This time; the

Sultan hadn’t arranged for a special workspace for His master miniaturists in

the palace courtyard; rather; He decreed that they work on this special book at

home。 When it occurred to me that this order was probably issued for the sake

of my Enishte’s book; I fell silent。 To what degree was Master Osman making

insinuations?

“Nuri  Effendi;”  he  called  to  a  pale  and  hunched  painter;  “present  Our

Master Black with a ”survey‘ of the workshop!“

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