This book is an ode to Istanbul, but it doesn't seek to obscure what Istanbul really is for the average person living there. Istanbul is a city caught between times - a relic of a vast empire now in ruins and a city rising fast with the times. I feel like Pamuk has captured an intimate view of Istanbul which will soon also be another relic of another lost time. Just as he uses the writings of others who first came across Istanbul in their travels from Europe during the time of empire, his writing will be used to chronicle Istanbul's rapid changes.

Memoir of a city as well as the person living in it.

Beautiful prose and such interesting discussion of east vs west, art, culture, history, and melancholy.

Self centered and lazy, this gave a narrow upper class perspective of life in Istanbul.

Bildungsroman and non-fictional memoirs are not necessarily oil and water. In this collection of reflections by Orhan Pamuk, these two genres catch up in a melancholic beautiful manner like long-lost yet reunited lovers, who nevertheless have no "happily ever after" in sight. Sometimes "happily ever after" is too overrated indeed. It was the humanity of Turkey in my honeymoon last November that made the trip memorable.

I wanted a book about Istanbul, I got a book about the author's teenage huzun (melancholy) which he brings up in nearly every chapter.

The chapter about Melling was the most interesting, the rest was tedious.

I read this book before taking a trip to Istanbul. Reading didn't really impact how I perceived or felt about Istanbul. Which I think is an indictment of either me or the author. This book was self indulgent, which I suppose is par for the course for a memoir, but it wasn't really clear what the point of it was. For most of the book, he rambles aimlessly. The final portion of the book resolves into an actual story about his first romance that has some coherence and would have made a reasonable short story.