波波小说

波波小说>我的名字叫红 > 第30部分(第1页)

第30部分(第1页)

“book of costumes” and engaged me in a bout of vicious bargaining。 Having

agreed  that  morning  upon  a  lesser…quality  book  of  costumes  for  a  price  of

twenty  silver  pieces;  I  proceeded  to  illustrate  a  dozen  Istanbulites  in  a  single

sitting  around  the  time  of  the  evening  prayer;  paying  particular  attention  to

the detail of their outfits。 I drew a Sheikhulislam; a palace porter; a preacher; a

Janissary;  a  dervish;  a  cavalryman;  a  judge;  a  liver  seller;  an  executioner—

executioners in the act of torture sold quite well—a beggar; a woman bound

for the hamam; and an opium addict。 I’d done so many of these books just to

earn a few extra silver pieces that I began to invent games for myself to fight

off  boredom  while  I  drew;  for  example;  I  forced  myself  to  draw  the  judge

without lifting my pen off the page or to draw the beggar with my eyes closed。

All  brigands;  poets  and  men  of  constant  sorrow  know  that  when  the

evening prayer is called the jinns and demons within them will grow agitated

and  rebellious;  urging  in  unision:  “Out!  Outside!”  This  restless  inner  voice

demands; “Seek the pany of others; seek blackness; misery and disgrace。”

I’ve  spent  my  time  appeasing  these  jinns  and  demons。  I’ve  painted  pictures;

which many regard as miracles that have issued from my hands; with the help

of these evil spirits。 But for seven days now after dusk; since I murdered that

disgrace; I’m no longer able to control the jinns and demons within me。 They

rage with such violence that I tell myself they might calm down if I go out for

a while。

After  saying  so;  as  always  without  knowing  how;  I  found  myself  roaming

through the night。 I walked briskly; advancing through snowy streets; muddy

passages;  icy  slopes  and  deserted  sidewalks  as  if  I  would  never  stop。  As  I

walked;  descending  into  the  dark  of  night;  into  the  most  remote  and

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abandoned parts of the city; I’d ever so gradually leave my soul behind; and

walking along the narrow streets; my footsteps echoing off the walls of stone

inns; schools and mosques; my fears would subside。

Of their own accord; my feet brought me to the abandoned streets of this

neighborhood on the outskirts of the city; where I came each night and where

even specters and jinns would shudder to roam。 I heard tell that half the men

in  this  neighborhood  had  perished  in  the  wars  with  Persia  and  that  the  rest

had  fled;  declaring  it  ill…omened;  but  I  don’t  believe  such  superstition。  The

only tragedy that has befallen this good quarter on account of the Safavid wars

was the closing of the Kalenderi dervish house forty years ago because it was

suspected of harboring the enemy。

I meandered behind the mulberry bushes and the bay…leaf trees; which had

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