BY ORHAN PAMUK
Pamuk begins
his inquiry with an image, a kitschy portrait of a child brought back from
Europe that was hung in the house of his aunt.
"Look! That's you!"
the aunt would say to the 5-year-old boy, pointing at the picture.
For Pamuk,
the painted child (who resembled him slightly and wore the same cap he
sometimes wore) became his double, another Orhan leading a parallel life in
another house in the same city, another self whom he would meet in his dreams
with shrieks of horror or with whom he'd bravely lock eyes, each boy trying to
stare the other down "in eerie merciless silence."
--The Washington Post
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