Katilimin en yuksek oldugu geceydi, keyifliydi, gelenler sagolsun, neyseki hep kitapdan, kitaplardan konustuk ve gece amacina hizmet etmis oldu.Mekan Cafe Arabia idi.
He is built up initially as a divine power but then it’s clear that he is very much human. And that makes it more chilling as we see the evil that we are capable of.
And now the word. Hassan’s exploits have given rise to the word “assassin” in English derived from the Arabic “hashshashin.” It is also derived from “hashish” a drug, which plays a prominent role in the novel. I cannot go more into that without giving out spoilers.
Bartol has painted a dramatic landscape filled with revenge and the thirst for power. Hassan’s strength is his capacity to ignite the passions in young men through his words. The power of his speech is admirable and at times even I found myself wavering between hating him and feeling pity for him.
One of the few things I can find fault with in the book is the way women are portrayed. They may be pawns in Hassan’s elaborate game, but they needn’t be over-emotional. Women are mostly shown as either empty headed giggling beings or teary eyed creatures, so delicate that they are unable to take romantic fervor and faint when they are in love! Such over-wrought emotions punctuate the otherwise steely atmosphere of the book. Also, long conversations on religion and its intricacies act as a drag on the book’s fast pace.
I was impressed by Bartol’s knowledge of the Middle East, despite being a Slovenian. The theme of the book is said to be taken from a chapter from Marco Polo’s travels but Bartol has made it into a towering, real life story that is not unimaginable in today’s world where terrorism strikes fear in every person. A book that is more relevant today than any other time.
It’s a novel about the founder of a sect of assassins driven by an extreme interpretation of Islam. His fanatical followers, who have a cult-like attachment to their leader, are trained to become “live daggers†in a holy war, and are promised an afterlife in paradise as a reward for their martyrdom.
The location of this tale? Eleventh century Persia. And the novel itself, a fictionalized account of a real historical personage (sometimes called the world’s first political terrorist), was written in 1938 by Slovenian author Vladimir Bartol. Now, thanks to the work of a UW librarian, the novel, titled Alamut, is available in English for the first time.
Michael Biggins, Slavic and East European librarian and affiliate professor of Slavic languages and literatures, spent the last 18 months translating the nearly-forgotten novel that in the past 20 years has been recognized as a classic in Slovene literature….
Bartol’s work was written as Slovenia saw the rise of totalitarianism in three of its neighbors, Italy, Germany and Russia. “The novel,†Biggins says, “is sui generis, unlike anything else published in Slovenia up to that time. It is an exploration, in novel form, of the nature of totalitarianism, and the ways that political power can manipulate the public’s consciousness,†and, he said, “resonates with 20th and 21st century experience in many ways.â€
The main character is portrayed as sympathetic, a well-read man with great humor and intelligence. “The novel doesn’t supply any ready answers or snap refutations of totalitarianism,†Biggins says. “In fact, the trappings of totalitarianism are portrayed as quite appealing.â€
Even after examining the novel at the microscopic level of a translator, Biggins still finds it “delightful. It is well crafted, and being that close to it was a pleasure.â€
The publisher is Seattle’s Scala House. The publisher’s representative walked into Biggins’ office one day looking for the Slavic Studies librarian, to see if Biggins knew a suitable translator. Biggins, who has many book-length translations to his credit as well as numerous poems and short stories, jumped at the opportunity. “I’d known about Alamut for at least 15 years. It had become a cult classic in Yugoslavia in the 1980s.â€
Note: You can find out more about Alamut at the Scala House Press website: http://www.scalahousepress.com/titles/alamut.php.
For the first time I have read an entire book that has given rise to one word in the English language. Reading Vladimir Bartol’s “Alamut” was easy and fascinating. Alamut is based on a legendary character named Hasan ibn-Sabbah who is purported to be the leader of the world’s first suicide killers. The story is set in the 11th century AD in the Middle East around Persia. Ibn-Sabbah, simply known as Sayyiduna to his followers rests within the strong walls of a towering castle, whose name is Alamut, meaning "eagle's nest." Hasan’s plan is to recruit a bunch of youngsters, convert them into faithful robots and use them in his ploy to become powerful and spread the Ismaili doctrine through the land.
But when the story begins I had no inkling of these machinations. In fact Bartol builds up anticipation by saying that nobody has seen Hassan but he is the most powerful man on earth because “Allah has given him the key that unlocks the gate to paradise.” This is the crucial message that is hammered into the head of his recruits and believers. As the book unravels I felt horrified at the extent of trouble that Hassan has gone to create a world of make-believe in order to prove his theories and realize his plans.
Bartol draws an extremely chilling portrait of this dictator who stops at nothing to get his plans into action. And yet it’s a complete, well rounded picture showing that even the cruelest dictator is nothing more than human. Hassan has his fears, flaws and yes even emotions.
But when the story begins I had no inkling of these machinations. In fact Bartol builds up anticipation by saying that nobody has seen Hassan but he is the most powerful man on earth because “Allah has given him the key that unlocks the gate to paradise.” This is the crucial message that is hammered into the head of his recruits and believers. As the book unravels I felt horrified at the extent of trouble that Hassan has gone to create a world of make-believe in order to prove his theories and realize his plans.
Bartol draws an extremely chilling portrait of this dictator who stops at nothing to get his plans into action. And yet it’s a complete, well rounded picture showing that even the cruelest dictator is nothing more than human. Hassan has his fears, flaws and yes even emotions.
"He had been hard and demanding toward himself. He had also been hard and demanding toward others.All just to realize his goal, to embody his dreams."
He is built up initially as a divine power but then it’s clear that he is very much human. And that makes it more chilling as we see the evil that we are capable of.
And now the word. Hassan’s exploits have given rise to the word “assassin” in English derived from the Arabic “hashshashin.” It is also derived from “hashish” a drug, which plays a prominent role in the novel. I cannot go more into that without giving out spoilers.
Bartol has painted a dramatic landscape filled with revenge and the thirst for power. Hassan’s strength is his capacity to ignite the passions in young men through his words. The power of his speech is admirable and at times even I found myself wavering between hating him and feeling pity for him.
One of the few things I can find fault with in the book is the way women are portrayed. They may be pawns in Hassan’s elaborate game, but they needn’t be over-emotional. Women are mostly shown as either empty headed giggling beings or teary eyed creatures, so delicate that they are unable to take romantic fervor and faint when they are in love! Such over-wrought emotions punctuate the otherwise steely atmosphere of the book. Also, long conversations on religion and its intricacies act as a drag on the book’s fast pace.
I was impressed by Bartol’s knowledge of the Middle East, despite being a Slovenian. The theme of the book is said to be taken from a chapter from Marco Polo’s travels but Bartol has made it into a towering, real life story that is not unimaginable in today’s world where terrorism strikes fear in every person. A book that is more relevant today than any other time.
The location of this tale? Eleventh century Persia. And the novel itself, a fictionalized account of a real historical personage (sometimes called the world’s first political terrorist), was written in 1938 by Slovenian author Vladimir Bartol. Now, thanks to the work of a UW librarian, the novel, titled Alamut, is available in English for the first time.
Michael Biggins, Slavic and East European librarian and affiliate professor of Slavic languages and literatures, spent the last 18 months translating the nearly-forgotten novel that in the past 20 years has been recognized as a classic in Slovene literature….
Bartol’s work was written as Slovenia saw the rise of totalitarianism in three of its neighbors, Italy, Germany and Russia. “The novel,†Biggins says, “is sui generis, unlike anything else published in Slovenia up to that time. It is an exploration, in novel form, of the nature of totalitarianism, and the ways that political power can manipulate the public’s consciousness,†and, he said, “resonates with 20th and 21st century experience in many ways.â€
The main character is portrayed as sympathetic, a well-read man with great humor and intelligence. “The novel doesn’t supply any ready answers or snap refutations of totalitarianism,†Biggins says. “In fact, the trappings of totalitarianism are portrayed as quite appealing.â€
Even after examining the novel at the microscopic level of a translator, Biggins still finds it “delightful. It is well crafted, and being that close to it was a pleasure.â€
The publisher is Seattle’s Scala House. The publisher’s representative walked into Biggins’ office one day looking for the Slavic Studies librarian, to see if Biggins knew a suitable translator. Biggins, who has many book-length translations to his credit as well as numerous poems and short stories, jumped at the opportunity. “I’d known about Alamut for at least 15 years. It had become a cult classic in Yugoslavia in the 1980s.â€
Note: You can find out more about Alamut at the Scala House Press website: http://www.scalahousepress.com/titles/alamut.php.
Reviews
First published sixty years ago, Alamut is a literary classic by Slovenian writer Vladimir Bartol, a deftly researched and presented historical novel about one of the world’s first political terrorists, 11th century Ismaili leader Hasan ibn Sabbah, whose machinations with drugs and carnal pleasures deceived his followers into believing that he would deliver them to a paradise in the afterlife, so that they would destroy themselves in suicide missions for him. Flawlessly translated into English (and also published in eighteen other languages), Alamut portrays even the most Machiavellian individuals as human – ruthless or murderous, but also subject to human virtues, vices, and tragedies. An afterword by Michael Biggins offering context on the author’s life, the juxtaposition of his writing to the rise of dictatorial conquest that would erupt into World War II, and the medly of reactions to its publication, both in the author’s native Slovenia and worldwide, round out this superb masterpiece. An absolute must-have for East European literature shelves, and quite simply a thoroughly compelling novel cover to cover.
This novel is loosely based on the life of 11th-century Ismailite Hasan ibn Sabbah, whom some credit with masterminding the idea of suicide missions and whose very name, by some accounts, has given rise to the word “assassin.”
Before tackling this novel, Bartol engaged in a decade of research. He offers interesting insights into the origins of the Sunni-Shiite split in Islam, and — writing as he was during the ascension of totalitarianism in Europe — he also conveys broader meditations on the nature of fanaticism.
For all of its provocative ideas and sometimes eerily prescient incidents, “Alamut” is also successful simply as an entertaining yarn.
Bartol devises a shifting collage of passions, adventure and sacrifice. The book’s exotic settings are sumptuously described, and the characters are charismatic and complex — despite the fervent aims of some of them to subscribe to single-minded devotion.
Before tackling this novel, Bartol engaged in a decade of research. He offers interesting insights into the origins of the Sunni-Shiite split in Islam, and — writing as he was during the ascension of totalitarianism in Europe — he also conveys broader meditations on the nature of fanaticism.
For all of its provocative ideas and sometimes eerily prescient incidents, “Alamut” is also successful simply as an entertaining yarn.
Bartol devises a shifting collage of passions, adventure and sacrifice. The book’s exotic settings are sumptuously described, and the characters are charismatic and complex — despite the fervent aims of some of them to subscribe to single-minded devotion.
His fighters called the fedayeens believed that he can open for them the gates to paradise. They not only did not fear death, they sought it. They considered it a source of both honor and happiness to be sent by him on suicide missions. They believed, without any doubt, that their death will bring them to paradise, a place of eternal delights, where there are gardens with streams flowing clear as crystal, where there are choices food and drink, and where fair-limbed beautiful girls with dark eyes shaped like almonds await them, who retain their youth and virginity no matter how many times they are made love to.
He used to be part of the "mainstream" Muslim society. But he got disillusioned with the way faith seemed to be degenerating and the way their leaders seemed to be kowtowing to "foreign infidels." He was radicalized. He decided to leave and set himself and his followers up in a place called A. Here, he established his little kingdom. His enemies tried to wipe them out, starting the assault with heavy bombardment which at first frightened his followers but to which they later grew accustomed with. Eventually, safely hidden away from harm, they "grew inured to the crash and rumbling of (these) projectiles."
He was an enigmatic figure. He rarely made appearances even to his own men (except to a select, trusted few). His actual whereabouts were often uncertain. He was considered by his followers as a prophet, and by his enemies as a madman and a cruel murderer. He acted as if he is not bound by any law or rule. He felt free to give seemingly contradictory edicts. Example: he forbade drinking and fornication because the Koran prohibits them; but to some of his followers, and on certain occasions, he even encouraged these acts. His motto for his group: "Nothing is real (or true) and everything is permitted."
By the end of this novel, he "dies" but with a hope to continue living as an enduring legend.
This character was not Osama Bin Laden, nor was his group the al Qaeda, nor was their place of operation Afghanistan. This novel, written by a Slovenian in 1938, is set in the year 1092 (almost a thousand years ago); the leader is Hasan ibn Sabbah, popularly called Sayyiduna (meaning "Our Leader"), and the place where they had their little kingdom was a fortress called Alamut. Action packed with carefully-tuned moral ambiguities which can set the reader into a delightful confusion as to who are the heroes and the villains, or who is right and who is wrong.
Another curious case of literary foreshadowing.(less)
He used to be part of the "mainstream" Muslim society. But he got disillusioned with the way faith seemed to be degenerating and the way their leaders seemed to be kowtowing to "foreign infidels." He was radicalized. He decided to leave and set himself and his followers up in a place called A. Here, he established his little kingdom. His enemies tried to wipe them out, starting the assault with heavy bombardment which at first frightened his followers but to which they later grew accustomed with. Eventually, safely hidden away from harm, they "grew inured to the crash and rumbling of (these) projectiles."
He was an enigmatic figure. He rarely made appearances even to his own men (except to a select, trusted few). His actual whereabouts were often uncertain. He was considered by his followers as a prophet, and by his enemies as a madman and a cruel murderer. He acted as if he is not bound by any law or rule. He felt free to give seemingly contradictory edicts. Example: he forbade drinking and fornication because the Koran prohibits them; but to some of his followers, and on certain occasions, he even encouraged these acts. His motto for his group: "Nothing is real (or true) and everything is permitted."
By the end of this novel, he "dies" but with a hope to continue living as an enduring legend.
This character was not Osama Bin Laden, nor was his group the al Qaeda, nor was their place of operation Afghanistan. This novel, written by a Slovenian in 1938, is set in the year 1092 (almost a thousand years ago); the leader is Hasan ibn Sabbah, popularly called Sayyiduna (meaning "Our Leader"), and the place where they had their little kingdom was a fortress called Alamut. Action packed with carefully-tuned moral ambiguities which can set the reader into a delightful confusion as to who are the heroes and the villains, or who is right and who is wrong.
Another curious case of literary foreshadowing.(less)
It's impossible to talk about Alamut without first discussing Hasan ibn Sabbah (or Hassan i-Sabbah), the master of the Ismaili sect and prophet of its notoriously crypto-anarchic motto: "Nothing is true; everything is permitted." Most of the story revolves around Hasan and the execution of a grand experiment through which he asserts his grim motto.
To wit, the entire novel is the narration of Hasan's ironic experiment, his belief in a meaningless universe and an uncaring God, and his subsequent infliction of atrocities in an attempt to prove his theory by negation. He is a manipulator, a sociopath who gambles with lives, all the while awaiting some divine judgement to strike him down and prove him wrong.
There's something subtly ironic about Hasan ibn Sabbah. Despite his obvious centrality to the novel and its eponymous fortress, I could never shake off a persistent feeling that Bartol undermined Hasan's validity. We are never quite sure if Hasan ibn Sabbah and the Ismaili motto are correct, or merely misunderstood, or inherently paradoxical. Despite his claims toward prophetic power and universal knowledge, Hasan is a fragile, idiosyncratic, jealous and isolated old man.
And this depiction truly owes itself to Bartol's writing style (or, more accurately, Michael Biggins's translation). Bartol writes with emotional distance. His language is clear, objective and clinical. Sympathetic characters shine through by their own virtue, rather than authorial insistence. Miriam, Halima, Yusuf, ibn Tahir and Suleiman appeal to the reader by their own actions, their beliefs and their emotions. There is something admirably understated about Bartol's writing.
And yet, I could not help but feel he erred too strongly on the side of minimalism. Sometimes entire chapters lacked pathos. There is a certain feeling of emptiness in reading Alamut. A lack of denouement and an absence of any real heroic characters on whom to cling. And, honestly, that sort of emptiness seems fitting for a story like this
To wit, the entire novel is the narration of Hasan's ironic experiment, his belief in a meaningless universe and an uncaring God, and his subsequent infliction of atrocities in an attempt to prove his theory by negation. He is a manipulator, a sociopath who gambles with lives, all the while awaiting some divine judgement to strike him down and prove him wrong.
There's something subtly ironic about Hasan ibn Sabbah. Despite his obvious centrality to the novel and its eponymous fortress, I could never shake off a persistent feeling that Bartol undermined Hasan's validity. We are never quite sure if Hasan ibn Sabbah and the Ismaili motto are correct, or merely misunderstood, or inherently paradoxical. Despite his claims toward prophetic power and universal knowledge, Hasan is a fragile, idiosyncratic, jealous and isolated old man.
And this depiction truly owes itself to Bartol's writing style (or, more accurately, Michael Biggins's translation). Bartol writes with emotional distance. His language is clear, objective and clinical. Sympathetic characters shine through by their own virtue, rather than authorial insistence. Miriam, Halima, Yusuf, ibn Tahir and Suleiman appeal to the reader by their own actions, their beliefs and their emotions. There is something admirably understated about Bartol's writing.
And yet, I could not help but feel he erred too strongly on the side of minimalism. Sometimes entire chapters lacked pathos. There is a certain feeling of emptiness in reading Alamut. A lack of denouement and an absence of any real heroic characters on whom to cling. And, honestly, that sort of emptiness seems fitting for a story like this
I read this book as a companion to Assassin's Creed, the setting in that game is so rich. Alamut takes the basic legends surrounding the Assassins (you can find most of them in Wikipedia) and breathes life into those legends. Many contradictions are explored - how could the Assassins have been deeply ascetic and pious and yet smoke hashish and preach "nothing is true, everything is permitted"? In answering these questions, Alamut chronicles the creations of a religion not unlike Scientology, where blind faith and dedication are manipulated for selfish ends. We follow the creation of the first assassins, and their initiation rite where the young men are drugged and tricked into thinking they have ascended into the afterlife of the Koran, a garden paradise filled with wine and virgins. The young fedayeen (elite assassins) then return to the normal world with such longing that they willingly throw their lives away. The book also follows the harem girls who live as caged princesses, constantly competing among themselves and eventually meeting tragic ends when they meet the fedayeen for a single day, fall in love, then are heart broken to learn they can never see their lovers again.
The book's weakness lies in the main "villian" Hasan ibn Sabbah. Hasan's philosophy which drives everything is a mix of Nietzschean nihilism and will to power - basically all religions are false because true knowledge is impossible to realize, mankind is enslaved by itself own desire for fantasy and falsehood, and great men rise above this to rule over the fates of others. I didn't judge Sabbah in anyway, but the author gets rather preachy when expressing the philosophy, and some sections drag on and on. The game has a much more elegant expression of these ideas.
In the end, I really enjoyed this book, and recommend it to anyone interested in the subject.(less)
The book's weakness lies in the main "villian" Hasan ibn Sabbah. Hasan's philosophy which drives everything is a mix of Nietzschean nihilism and will to power - basically all religions are false because true knowledge is impossible to realize, mankind is enslaved by itself own desire for fantasy and falsehood, and great men rise above this to rule over the fates of others. I didn't judge Sabbah in anyway, but the author gets rather preachy when expressing the philosophy, and some sections drag on and on. The game has a much more elegant expression of these ideas.
In the end, I really enjoyed this book, and recommend it to anyone interested in the subject.(less)
THE BEST slovenian book ever (my opinion:)!
The book was written in 1938 by Vladimir Bartol. But after 11 september 2011, the book became even more popular. It it about religion and the power of the religion. Karl Marx said that religion is opium for the people. Vladimir Bartol shows that this can be true if the religious power is in the hands of wrong person.
"Nothing is true, but everything is possible." Can you deal with world in that way?
The book was written in 1938 by Vladimir Bartol. But after 11 september 2011, the book became even more popular. It it about religion and the power of the religion. Karl Marx said that religion is opium for the people. Vladimir Bartol shows that this can be true if the religious power is in the hands of wrong person.
"Nothing is true, but everything is possible." Can you deal with world in that way?
THE BEST slovenian book ever (my opinion:)!
The book was written in 1938 by Vladimir Bartol. But after 11 september 2011, the book became even more popular. It it about religion and the power of the religion. Karl Marx said that religion is opium for the people. Vladimir Bartol shows that this can be true if the religious power is in the hands of wrong person.
"Nothing is true, but everything is possible." Can you deal with world in that way?
The book was written in 1938 by Vladimir Bartol. But after 11 september 2011, the book became even more popular. It it about religion and the power of the religion. Karl Marx said that religion is opium for the people. Vladimir Bartol shows that this can be true if the religious power is in the hands of wrong person.
"Nothing is true, but everything is possible." Can you deal with world in that way?
Hiç yorum yok:
Yorum Gönder