Maybe you’ve understood by no for men like myself, t is, melanc excuses for maintaining eternal loneliness, life offers neit joy nor great sadness. I’m not saying  relate to otrary,   fat our souls sink into at sucimes. t turmoil dims our intellects and dampens our s, usurping true joy and sadness we ougo experience.

    I ure of condolence, embraced my ears so a large cus me e, and I didn’t knoo do. ory. In one fell sled me, and become master of ty of my tears? But believe me, it  like t. I truly ed to grieve, but couldn’t: Eniso me t since te’s final

    ablution never stopped babbling, t my Eniserious circumstances spread among tanding in tyard of t  my inability to cry to be interpreted negatively; I don’t o tell you oneed” is.

    You kno test t “o prevent someone like me from being banis cry on tried to ant relatives onisies to summon a doears; I t about being ter of take cuation, but just t t of panic. as it ed to save myself from t .

    It o tunned.

    As I exited tyard, I found a mud-covered silver coin on to go to t I side in trees and people. I t I’d befriend t sen ty before facing tioner, attempt a liged conversation  t, ties of life, t on trangeness of a cloud in t alas ed me, proving a ratigicing ely stretco t  t after marrying Ser all t made my and on end. It ice of dying at torturers  h her.

    e didn’t oerrifying spires of te, beyond urers and tioners sao t tory s cleaning itself in tnut eaming nostrils turned but didn’t look at us: t s oh, much as we were.

    Be determine from to tell  to arouse fear before torture; inado, I t about tell to save my o be raising quite a ruckus.

    t certainly t attribute my mocking and mirtone to t of a man on torture. But  I mentioned I consider myself one of God’s luckier servants? And if tune t alig ter years of deprivation aren’t proof enougside tyard gate must be some indication.

    Aing my torture, I ed by te fait ect me; I

    palmed it, rubbed it and repeatedly kissed token of good fortune t Alla me. But at ime t me into t room orturers, I kneiless voice ely correct: t  come from God, but  I’d s torturers, I o take refuge.

    I didn’t even notice t tears began to fall from my eyes. I ed to beg, but as in a dream, no sound issued from my moutical assassination and torture ( life could be extinguisantaneously, but I’d never experienced it to strip me from t as tripped off my garments.

    took off my vest and s. One of tioners sat on me, driving o my siced elegance of a urning t its front. Nay, it  a cage, but rat gradually squeezed my head.

    I screamed at top of my lungs. I begged, but incoly. I cried, mostly because my nerves .

    topped momentarily and asked: “ere you te Effendi?”

    I took a deep breath: “Nay.”

    to tig ing.

    they asked again.

    “Nay.”

    “hen?”

    “I don’t know!”

    I ell tly about my ance. I asked myself if I omed to tioners and I stayed still for a moment. I felt no pain, I errified.

    Just as I decided from t t t going to kill me, traption t ually done little damage to my ioner  even a  of apology. I donned my s and vest.

    there passed a very long silence.

    At tor Osman Effendi. I  to him and kissed his hand.

    “Don’t be concerned, my co me. “t testing you.”

    I kne once t I’d found a neo replace Enis in peace.

    “Our Sultan  you not be tortured at time,” said t appropriate for you to or Master Osman find turists and ts preparing s. You o interrogate turists, scrutinize ted pages t. te appalled by t urists and illuminated manuscripts. Botreasurer an o Enisations and kno turists er urists of to produce t sole—about  Sultan’s express desire t you, my c to undergo torture and interrogation. After t, eacer miniaturists will urn.”

    I could detect no secret gestures or signs betreasurer or Master Osman Effendi, reasury.

    “Everyone knoed an’s s and divisions, t tire group is considered guilty until one among tified and turned in. A section t fails to name ts midst goes dos officer or master, and is punisor Master Osman ions rating gaze, uncover tigation t  t miniaturists at eacs, and remand ty party to tice of tan, to t er Osman may require be granted to  t confiscating eac pages t ter miniaturists ing in their homes.”

    It IS I, MAStER OSMANtreasurer reiterated Our Sultan’s decrees before leaving torture.  like a boy. I kneo like  disturb his peace.

    I o examine t ted from ter miniaturists, and to determine ings prepared for Eniso treasurer o clear ed, t be someto to arouse suc disgust and red in a miniaturist like myself istry; merely bad art  provoke sucion. So, y, I began to reexamine t turists wo .

    I saree in tuated ’s border design and gilding o conjure tory to rators to draree, dear Butterfly, ork and  of a story so t drao scrutinize t tree, I’d be able to determine rator s brancary tree; be, te  o tyle of t masters of Suated tion. t all, ed by raising to depict a tree simply as sucian masters did, ing t ian nor Persian. tree at ttempting to combine te styles, my miniaturists and t deceased clo it  t tration  h.

    I felt t tures, at t dream  matter also iritated me,   my illustrators ed tures into Our Sultan’s illuminated manuscript. I felt rene exalted Alla in taking Eniso say, I soever to complete t.

    be annoyed by t staring at me from just beneat ounded by tioning, ty of its tening sidelong glance, o t s teet, by talent of turists  (I ermining precisely  forgive talent able o imitate t tan  for t to make use of teco tians e to explain tension in tures.

    I errified by tling picture, oucer miniaturists in eacist’s  I couldn’t identify o ting under tire he

    illustration  some time ure pointing out to Black s ree (Stork), te and floterfly).

    “Of course, a great master miniaturist like yourself, inguis of eacrators, tion of temperament of trokes,” Black said. “But ors to paint ried tecermine tists responsible for eacainty?”

    I decided to ansime ts, and lived all alone in le. rong and migelligent, but merciless srated manuscripts er. So devoted o er t ed for claiming o declare  one sent ambassadors to ask for urally, ter, and o a room, accessible only ty locked doors. In keeping  t er’s beauty er an edition of  rated in t style, a rumor began to circulate in Isfay ure er! Even before erious illustration, opened trembling ears sa er’s beauty ured on tory goes, it  actually ter, protected by forty locked doors, rayed one nig y ifled by boredom, reflecting off a series of mirrors and passing beneat or o reacrator . terful young miniaturist, unable to restrain ed ty, o beration  of completing. It  sure of ryside outing.”

    “My beloved master, my good sir, te a coincidence,” said Black. “I, too, am quite fond of t scene from hüsrev and Shirin.”

    “t fables, but events t actually en, turist didn’t depict tiful daug as a courtesan playing te or setting table, because t  of illustrating at time. As a result, Sy paled beside traordinary beauty of tesan standing off to ting ting’s balance. After ter in ting, ed to locate ted miniaturist y miniaturist, fearing tesan and S in yle, but in a neo conceal ity. trokes of quite a feurists o the work as well.”

    “ity of turist wrayed er?”

    “From the ears!”

    “er or ure?”

    “Actually, neituition,  laid out all trations t urists ed all t : Regardless of talent, eacurists made ears in yle. It didn’t matter if ted an, a cially veiled face of Our Exalted Prop, or even, God forbid again, turist, in eac signature.”

    “hy?”

    “ers illustrated a face, ts exalted beauty, on tates of t s ime to make tole from otated a model nor studied a real ear. For t t aspire to anyt even stop to consider heir brushes from memory.”

    “But didn’t t masters also create terpieces from memory  ever even looking at real rees or people?” said Black.

    “true,” I said, “but ter years of t, contemplation and reflection. y of rated and actual, over times, t t fles s. t a master miniaturist ens of times eventually comes close to God’s vision of a ist kno alent, great effort, and insig is a  approac is draed any knoist  it is doing, or before paying attention to ter,  is a flaion, it urist to miniaturist. t is, it amounts to a signature.”

    tion. to ted from turists and the calligraphers.

    “Besides, ears are actually a  once distinct and common to everyone: a perfect manifestation of ugliness.”

    “ o turist ies tyle of painting ears?”

    I refrained from saying, “o keep Black from becoming even more do. Instead, I responded, “er, and to identify miniaturists ever since, is kno is kept secret so t if one of turists makes a forbidden figure or a small design t conceals some miscer denies ermine s inctive desire to draimes transgressions involves finding trivial, quickly draitive details removed from t of ting, suc be rator  tail  signature. Mustac ance, because many artists are aure any eyebroy: No one pays muctention to t’s see o bear upon late Enisrations.”

    t togetrated manuscripts, one t ed secretly and t stories and subjects, illustrated in tinct styles; t is, deceased Enisivities recounting our prince’s circumcision ceremony, rol. Black and I looked intently wherever I moved my magnifying lens:

    1. In tivities,  studied t a master of tan and purple sasan, c. Unmistakably, Olive eetinguiseete’s illustration of Satan, an ominous creature, , t appeared to have come from Samarkand.

    2. On a particularly joyous day of tivities, beloan’s loge overlooking tier gattered clot made a plea: “My Exalted Sultan, ages; t is,  free in order to amass ransom. anbul,  o collect to save our bret t us gold or slaves t o excork clearly made to t Our Sultan, at our poor, destitute g tatar ambassadors in ting tures of te’s book.

    3. Among turning somersaults before Our Sultan , o one side on a red carpet; trument exactly tray in tration of Red in Enisless the work of Olive.

    4. As t Our Sultan, tuffed cabbage  and onions in a cauldron resting on a stove in t. ter cooks accompanying t stood on pink earting tes on blue stones; tones ist ly creature in tration t Enisakable terfly.

    5. Mounted tatar messengers broug to mobilize for anot ttomans, e observation kiosk of tedly affirmed to Our Sultan, Refuge of tries, t t brotion for ruction, er bearers ran out to settle t raised in to pour over a mob ready to attack t. t of ter bearers and of tist  of cion of Red: also tterfly.

    I  t discovery as I directed our searc and left, to t picture t ure and turning to ed  esan met took an entire afternoon to sort out s  by te Eniser, to interpret t information.

    Black’s late Enis limit any single page to tistic talent of just one miniaturist; all ter miniaturists  of trations. t t tures ion to ticed teurisrokes of a fiftist, but as I gre talent sermined from tious brusrokes t it e—ted poor Elegant Effendi, e’s book and our Book of Festivities (yes, t) and e a fe  t only my t brilliant master miniaturists ributed to trations. trained since ticesalents: Olive, Butterfly and Stork.

    Discussing talents, mastery and temperaments to tably led to a discussion of my own life as well:

    ttributes of Olive kno, because I never saure to be plain and recognizable;  try to conceal it any creator of trees, animals and t o Istanbul rained by Siyavusrator specializing in faces in tabriz  like ters er o lead tubborn artist to otyles. o transcend tyles and models of t masters billeted deep in o forget about tirely. old  like many miniaturists o country, ten tyles, if ually learned turists resides precisely in tted to memory, ruly forgotten ter illustrator. Still, ts, of o eacors in ted miniaturist, clinging to old forms inevitably stirred feelings of guilt and alienation t  to maturity. 2. In a moment of difficulty,  o ten, and te any ne, ory or scene by recourse to one of t models. ito  aers in neures.  painting and Istanbul ornamentation happily merged in Olive.

    As urists, I once paid an unannounced visit to  of many oter miniaturists, s, brusable and ots. It ery to me, but  even embarrassed by it. ook no outside jobs to earn a fera silver coins. After I related ts, Black said it  ease yles of ters admired by e Enisood to be praise from t of vieaken t  say o t styles—o or Siyavusor Muzaffer, back to ters—to be, but it alurists (I told myself spontaneously),  quiet and sensitive, but also t guilty and traitorous, and by far t devious.  about torture c to come to mind. (I boted and didn’t  o be tortured.) iced and took account of everytcomings; o accommodate o any situation, o point out mistakes.  not in my opinion a

    murderer. (I didn’t tell Black t believe in anyt  arary to reme fait illumination leads to painting, and painting, in turn, leads to—God forbid—co judge by ist. Nevert s fall s of Butterfly’s, or even Stork’s. I ed Olive to be my son. As I said ted to incur Black’s jealousy, but aring y. t ty boys gatree reciting verse and playing lutes, and tack of a dragon.

    “Pere ed Olive to do t picture t ail, in tyle of tan’s face and manner of sitting,” Black said.

    as rying to confuse me?

    “Supposing ter Olive killed Enisure e in order to see t picture?”

    e botions for a while.

    “Because t painting,” said Black. “Or because s somet. Or even…”  for a aken ting to do furto, or even for no reason at all. Olive is, after all, a great illustrator  for a beautiful painting.”

    “e’ve already discussed in  illustrator,” I said, gro none of Enisrations is beautiful.”

    “e  yet seen t painting,” Black said boldly.

    ttributes of Butterflyory district, but to me terfly.” ty of  t believe ted a second look. I’ve alonisalented as er of color and test strengted passionately, reeling  I cautioned Black t Butterfly , I added: urist . If ts of ornamentation are not meant to cater to intelligence,

    to speak to to bolster tan; t is, if t is meant to be only a festival for tterfly is indeed a true miniaturist. aken lessons from ters of Kazvin forty years ago; ly applies , pure colors, and tle circularity  of ings; but I’m trained  ters of Kazvin. Maybe it’s for t I love  I never felt any ao mean I don’t respect  Stork frequently  oo. In contrast to  assume, a master’s beating doesn’t rid tice of jinns of talent and t only suppresses temporarily. If it o be a good beating, and deserved, later on timulate turist’s resolve to ings I administered to Butterfly, to a content and obedient artist.

    I at once felt to praise o Black: “Butterfly’s artistry,” I said, “is solid proof t ture of bliss,  ponders in  for understanding and applying color.  Butterfly lacked:  kno momentary loss of fait Jami refers to in ry as ”t of trator painting in t s to ion and contentment, believing t ing,  of Our Sultan, Our Prop ascending tly  rendered by Butterfly, ts of ecstasy springing from tration of mine, if t session terfly to ”color it as you see fit,“ and tfits, leaves, flags and sea t lay ted as if sprinkled  meant to fill a grave begin to ripple in times o be seen tterfly illustrates it, t s life to be jubilation. Indeed, te magnificent go eacime stops, whe Devil never appears.”

    terfly kno enoug e rigo  in  devoid of deptings, not men of to struggle terfly is icisms, poor man,  times grourists ed t akenly believes to be devilry and ten t straightforward evil and envy.

    es me because o its ecstasy, but only reac  ’s anotists alent yet more able tterfly to surrender to t.

    In o make up for comings, Butterfly is preoccupied  o art. Like turists ures almost invisible to te and delicate craftsmanso tion, ors at an early age, because alent Allaed  miniaturists paint eacree to make an easy name for to gain importance in trons.

    Butterfly’s inclination to design and illustrate for otrollable need to please oto praise. And so it follo an uncertain Butterfly s to ensure anding by becoming or. It was Black w.

    “Yes,” I said, “I knoer I die.”

    “Do you to murder urist brethren?”

    “It mig master, but  a leave ts.”

    I said t in trutoo, ed Butterfly to assume leaderser me. I couldn’t trust Olive, and in tork tingly become slave to tian style. Butterfly’s need to be admired—I  at t t ake a life—al in an. Only Butterfly’s sensitivity and faitte could resist tian artistry t duped trying to depict reality itself rats representation, in all its detail: pictures, ss, candlesticks, cables, oxen and carriage o Allah.

    “as time wed hers?”

    “terfly’s  ands tfelt joy and sorro as s carried aions and is fickle. Because I , of ivity to color, I paid close attention to o kno uations, turists quickly become jealous and ter-disciple relationsrained and damaged. ts of love during  fear  say. Recently, since  seller’s pretty daug to go see he chance.”

    “Rumor  t ands to gain a lot if tain ible h religion, and

    tlatles, ine ceremonies, not to mention parades including everyone from co magicians, derviso boy dancers, and kebab makers to locksmito ts and forms of ters.”

    “Even if urned skillfully and victoriously to tings of tamerlane’s time, even if urned to t life and vocation in all its minutia—as brigork  be able to do after me—in t’ll be forgotten,” I said mercilessly, “because everybody  to paint like the Europeans.”

    Did I actually believe tion?

    “My Enis it filled h hope.”

    ttributes of StorkI’ve seen er Mustafa C paying any mind to o yle, ure or, like ters, remain anonymous, or w a o do so,  sign orious flourish.

    inued bravely do ted to paper cer glassblourning ted in ovens to make blue pitctles;   attention over ts tracing a graceful arc during a ival; a press squeezing oil from seeds; t ted t objecting t ters of tamerlane’s time, or trators of tabriz and Kazvin,  loo do so.  Muslim miniaturist to go to urn safe and sound, in preparation for tories t er illustrate.  to eagerly study enemy fortresses, cannon, armies, ruggling for tent to paint.

    I recognize  matter more tyle and from tention to obscure details more t matter. I could entrust e peace of mind to execute all aspects of a painting, from t of pages and tion to t trivial details. In t to succeed me as or. But ious and conceited, and so condescending torators t ually, if it  to riousness, rations in t o sucask,  succeed.  master. . he admires himself. how nice for him.

    ed   ing upon folding ables, desks

    and cusrations for Our Sultan’s books, for me, for miserable costume books t ravelers eager to belittle us, one page of a triptyc o be pasted in albums, pages made for ion of coitus. tall, tork ting from one illustration to t like a bee among floice  to ting  to me urists,  stop  exercise of alent and t miniaturists at time). Nocly t if ter miniaturists, I o God it’s Stork. During ices of  my door on Friday mornings didn’t excite me tterfly did on his day.

    Since tention to every odd detail, ion except t it be visible, ic approac of tian masters. But unlike tious Stork neited people’s faces as individual or distinct. I assume, since ly belittled everyone, t  consider faces important. I’m certain deceased Enis appoint o draan’s face.

    Even  of tmost importance,  keep from situating a skeptical dog someance from t, or draration s subject and himself.

    “Elegant Effendi’s murder resembles tossed o a  of jealousy,” said Black. “And my Enis t set on  Stork loved to paint scenes of ions of death.”

    “Anyone  of ture s doesn’t understand me or my master miniaturists.  exposes us is not t, ies ing as  subject: A lig seems to radiate from ure, a palpable ancy or anger one notices in tion of figures, rees, ting from a cypress as it reaco tion and patience t roduce into tration iles  tempts blindness…Yes, traces, not tical er renders t paint rying to make t s creator, displaying t and nothing more.”