Let everyone know, I lived a very happy life.
I just finished Orhan Pamuk’s novel “The Museum Of Innocence” and my head is full of questions. I loved this novel for a lot of reasons but first of all because it left me wondering. Because I feel I understand the characters and yet, I sense there is more to unravel and to decipher. It’s one of those rare books that need several readings over many years in order to fully reveal itself .
The story can be outlined briefly: Kemal, a rich man, engaged and soon to be married, falls for Füsun, a beautiful shop girl and distant relative. However the idea behind the story and of the museum of innocence is everything but ordinary: the man, so deeply in love, creates a museum dedicated to his lover and their story. It’s a place where he exposes all the objects which speak of her, which have been touched by, looked at or loved by Füsun. It’s a sanctuary of ordinary, discrete moments of happiness. The novel is the museum’s guide – “an annotated catalog, relating in detail the stories of each and every object”. The fact that Orhan Pamuk did create a museum of innocence recreating the story makes everything almost (sur)real.
The last line of the novel made me reconsider the novel from a different angle and I am still pondering and analyzing ts meaning. But I won’t spoil the pleasure for those who didn’t read it. I’ll just ask you that: what is happiness? If stripped of the Hollywood and fairy tale layers, how do you picture it? What makes you happy?
What is the happiest moment of your life?