I can’t think of anyone more deserving of this prize.
As he wrote in the International Herald Tribune earlier this year:
It is because all writers have a deep desire to be authentic that even after all these years I still love to be asked for whom I write. But while a writer’s authenticity does depend on his ability to open his heart to the world in which he lives, it depends just as much on his ability to understand his own changing position in that world.
There is no such thing as an ideal reader, free of narrow-mindedness and unencumbered by social prohibitions or national myths, just as there is no such thing as an ideal novelist. But a novelist’s search for the ideal reader – be he national or international – begins with the novelist’s imagining him into being, and then by writing books with him in mind.
I’ve only read Pamuk’s “Istanbul”, but look forward to reading more of his work.
[via MeFi]
