Otel Uvojak (vol. 2) Ne daj se Umute, generacijo!

[kedi18]

4. nastavak analize serije "Ölene Kadar" ("Do smrti") by Navid Shahzad:

Olene Kadar Episode 2

It is said that Lilith the goddess sends her demons down to earth during the night. When we sleep; the demons we silence during our waking hours come to life and what the Greeks called ‘the golden mean’ i.e. our conscience awakens. Selvi’s sweat and tear drenched face is what Turagay chooses to open his second episode with. The blue grey wash is back as she is assailed by a medley of voices: a child selling tissues on the street, a panic stricken voice shouting his innocence; a third- voicing a persistent reminder to act according to instructions. It is clear that Daghan is not the only tormented soul in this narrative.

While his mother frets over his absence at home, Daghan sits under a brooding sky melding into an even grayer sea with only stone, concrete and boulder for company. This is as god- forsaken a place as it can get. Turagay positions his actor against an elemental landscape that mirrors Daghan’s inner self. Except for Ayetekin Atas’ hypnotic soundtrack, there is an all pervasive silence. Istanbul’s famed raucous sea gulls are nowhere to be seen or heard and it is only the sole, grieving, silent figure in the foreground that we register as the sea appears to subdue even the sound of its lapping waves washing across the rocky shoreline.

Here we witness one of the few flashbacks reliving Daghan’s incarceration. An obviously ill-at-ease Beril faces Daghan across a rough table during visiting hours at the prison. Against a backdrop of iron bars and a policeman’s figure; an unkempt bearded Daghan sits across her as she asks him for evidence to prove his innocence. Engin’s reactions are masterful as in the most sparse of dialogues he asks her to exercise a leap of faith. His premise is simple: if she loves him; she must trust him. After all, love, faith and trust are the triumvirate that forge lasting relationships.
For Daghan, idealist that he is: loving is all and love translates itself into a lasting faith deepened with trust. For him, faith has no correlation with legal evidence; that is for the courts not for lovers and his answer is simple. She knows him, he says, and so must know that he could not have murdered her father. Her answer is equally brief but brutal- she obviously does not; and asks him to stop writing to her.

It is Engin’s eyes that reflect the impact of the rebuff. If she had struck him, it would have been less painful. His body slumps, his face is stricken with disbelief as Beril’s final goodbye also gives him the news of the child - a child that he had dreamed of cradling but never will. It is all he can do to hold himself together as his tear filled eyes watch Beril leave as he braces his arms on the table and clasps his hands almost in a mockery of prayer. Turagay allows Daghan to absorb the shock of the revelation by choosing to leave him with his back to the camera for a moment.

One of the subcontinent’s leading Sufi poets opines that men may be forgiven for destroying sacred places such as a masjid or mandir but there can be no forgiveness for those who destroy(break) a human heart for it is the dwelling place of God Himself! Little does Beril know that as a consequence of her loss of faith in Daghan she is doomed to become a lost soul herself. Turagay is quick to follow up on her fall from grace as she descends the prison stairs; for this will symbolically be the beginning of her personal descent into a hell of her own making.
The camera returns to Engin’s face numbed by grief only to take us back to Daghan by the sea. He looks fleetingly at the sky as though seeking some sign of solace while a single tear escaping from his eye signifies that there is none.

[kedi18]

Vay vay, sunce visoko na nebu ... bura osvježila naše glave ... podne prošlo ...


Naš Daghan na putu prema slobodi:

Ölene Kadar | 1. Bölüm - "Özgürlüğe Bir Adım!" = Korak prema slobodi



Upisujemo u rječnik:

özgürlük = sloboda; najviša državna sila/moć; samostalnost, neovisnost

adım = korak; (ali i: Moje je ime/Zovem se)


ad = ime (benim adım = Zovem se, ime mi je ...)

Fraza: adım adım = korak po korak; u stopu; na svakom koraku, posvuda






- Hajde ti sad, kedi, adım adım dalje ... radi ... radi ... radi!

[kedi18]

Prelijepog li novog videa by Katie / Katia Jhor Jr.! :klap:

A tek Engin kao Kadir : em pjeva, em telefonira i engleski govori, em plače, em sevgilice po čaršiji voda,:klap: em je zaljubljen u uvijek novu ...

Divan presjek serije YABANCI DAMAT s Kadirom! Glazba i gluma za pet.

[kedi18]

5. nastavak analize serije "Ölene Kadar" ("Do smrti") by Navid Shahzad:

Olene Kadar Ep 2 (i)

Our next glimpse of Daghan is through the intricately wrought iron gate of Beril’s residence. In long, measured, purposeful strides, Engin walks up the drive way to stand looking at Beril sitting at an upstairs window. Turagay first shoots her from the interior of the room; daintily perched on the window sill leaning against the glass pane. Dressed in a white soft robe and silhouetted against a fall garden scape; she is reminiscent of a maiden imprisoned in her tower awaiting her knight in shining armour. As though on cue, Daghan enters the frame and stands silently looking up at her. That the distance between the past lovers is more than just physical is established clearly. Turagay now moves the camera as though to replicate Daghan’s view of Beril. Framed against nude tree branches shedding their last leaves, she sits up and places her hand on the window pane as though to steady herself. As the camera registers her reaction , so Daghan is shown retreating.

The whole scene is shot in silence except for Beril’s exclamation. Why does Daghan come ? is a moot question. Loss is a very small word - just four letters - but it carries enormous emotional and psychological baggage. As we come to terms with its ramifications we somehow assume that the rest of the world also halts itself in sympathy. However, there is a rude awakening in store for all of us. Time, relentless time carries on at its own pace even as our hearts appear to slow down in a paroxysm of grief. Turagay’s dramatisation of the ‘reunion’ scene is dyed in more than a few shades of Hamlet, the play. The deep melancholy that Engin etches onto Daghan’s face, the subdued colouring of his clothing, the dying garden are all identifiable motifs from Shakespeare’s masterpiece.

The similarities between Beril and Ophelia too are much more than a coincidence. Both have powerful, manipulative fathers. Both have no worldly experience and their personalities are marked by a naivete bordering on foolishness. Both betray their love; Beril in her rejection of Daghan and Ophelia in allowing herself to be used by Polonious to spy on Hamlet. Both pay a heavy price for their actions: Ophelia plunging to an undeserved death by drowning and Beril finally learning that she has been living a horrible lie. Having said that; one must comment on the enormity of Beril’s ‘crime’ as opposed to Ophelia’s inadvertent complicity.

‘Faith is a mystery, both to those who have it and those who do not.’ It is one of the most powerful forces on earth as evidenced by the many religious beliefs we choose to live by. Constantly tested, faith becomes the barometer for our aesthetic, moral and political standards. But perhaps; the most important is personal faith- the belief in a relationship so sacred that it stands the test of time. Beril fails on moral and personal grounds and that in a sense, is the greatest betrayal.

We empathize with her for a few moments as she runs barefoot to stop Daghan from leaving while unseen dogs bark as Daghan swiftly leaves the premises. Turagay shoots a powerful scene with Daghan close to the camera and off center with Beril in the background calling out to him. For a fraction of a moment, Engin inclines his head towards Beril’s voice but moves in the next instant without a glance to walk away. In a reversal of popular fantasy stories; the ‘knight’ walks away without attempting a rescue.

Daghan returns to a distraught family concerned for his safety. Imprisonment does more than isolate an individual - theories of punishment emphasize the importance of humane approaches to prisoners, particularly those sentenced for life. Hence family visitations and visits by spouses are meant to forge a link between both the inner and the outer world. That these visits are severely controlled i.e. no physical contact and limited; leave many prisoners dispirited rather than rejuvenated. Psychological and emotional problems thrive in the resultant atmosphere which becomes a laboratory constantly testing the prisoner’s humanity.

Daghan, despite his previously shown well adjusted personality, training and loving home (Ep 1) cannot help but be affected by the brutal isolation that he undergoes. It is to the credit of the writer that family visits are never shown; the only exception being Beril’s visit and that too with its devastating after effects. Such contacts by their very nature must remain private. Daghan’s poignant and clumsy apology is meant to give the viewer a glimpse of the permanent scarring left by such loneliness and despair. He confesses that since he was completely on his own for such a long time with no one to worry about him; it never occurred to him that someone would be concerned about his absence.

[kedi18]

Hajde, lijepo naše mače, objasni nam kakav je to film BKEM, kakav je lik Tekin, kako si radio s Farah ... ... ma, ne trebamo ništa razumjeti, ali dok slušamo tvoj glasić, sve smo shvatili! Sve ... sve ... sve!

bi küçük Eylül meselesi | Engin Akyürek Özel Röportajı




Vrijeme prolazi tako brzo. Premijera je bila 14.2. 2014.

Prije četiri godine ... dört yıl önce!


- Brzo u yatak, kedi. I sutra u 8 da budeš na nogama! Tamam mı?
- Tamam. Što se mora, nije teško.


Kad smo kod ljubavi i ljubavnih priča ...

Austrijski pjesnik Erich Fried recitira svoju pjesmu "Was es ist" ... ilustrirane slikama Marca Chagalla

Erich Fried:

Što je to

To je glupost
kaže razum
To je što je
kaže ljubav

To je nesreća
kaže računica
Nije ništa doli bol
kaže strah
Bezizlazno je
kaže uvid
To je što je
kaže ljubav

To je smiješno
kaže ponos
Lakomisleno je
kaže oprez
To je nemoguće
kaže iskustvo
To je što je
kaže ljubav

Prijevod: Erika Petrić

Izvornik:

Erich Fried: Was es ist

Es ist Unsinn
sagt die Vernunft
Es ist was es ist
sagt die Liebe

Es ist Unglück
sagt die Berechnung
Es ist nichts als Schmerz
sagt die Angst
Es ist aussichtslos
sagt die Einsicht
Es ist was es ist
sagt die Liebe

Es ist lächerlich
sagt der Stolz
Es ist leichtsinnig
sagt die Vorsicht
Es ist unmöglich
sagt die Erfahrung
Es ist was es ist
sagt die Liebe

[kedi18]

Evo mene, jučer, 13.2. 2018, podšišane kosice, s mobitelom u ruci ... čekam da se kediler počnu okupljati ... duga me noć čeka ...








Engine, budi nam sretan i zaljubljen svakog dana ...


Uživaj i ti u "Boleru" s Jane i Christopherom iz našeg olimpijskog Sarajeva!





Drage sevgilice, sa željom da volite i budete voljene svakog dana:



The Beatles: All You Need Is Love

[kedi18]

Jučer kasno, ili rano jutros, Çağan Irmak, scenarist i redatelj filma “Çocuklar Sana Emanet” („Povjeravam ti djecu) postavio je prvi plakat za njega. Istaknute su riječi „Yaralayan da, iyileştiren de bir insanın dokunuşudur.“ (Dodir osobe koji povređuje i liječi. - Naravno da nisam sigurna u prijevod, vadila sam nepoznate riječi, ama ... sigurnosti nema..)


Evo plakata/postera: U naslovnim ulogama jedan glumac i dvije glumice:



Naše smo zlato malo istaknuli ...



Sretno vam bilo s filmom, dragi glumci i cijela produkcijo! A mi? Da ga što prije vidimo i na turskom (vay, vay - sve ćemo razumjeti) i s prijevodom!

[kedi18]

Dobar vam dan, sevgilice! )))))))))))))))))


Gledam na televiziji da će na ovogodišnjem Zagrebdoxu 2018 biti prikazan i film "Kedi" o istanbulskim mačkama ...





Jedna od muzičkih numera u filmu:
Eatha Kitt: "Uska Dara" (prepoznajemo riječ Üsküdar

Üsküdar'a gider iken aldi da bir yagmur
Üsküdar'a gider iken aldi da bir yagmur
Kâtibimin setresi uzun, etegi çamur(2x)
Kâtip uykudan uyanmis, gözleri mahmur (2x)
Kâtip benim, ben kâtibin, ele karisir?
Kâtibime siter eter faltu ne güzel yarasir

Uskadara is a little town in Turkey
And in the old days, many women had male secretaries
Oh, well, that's Turkey

Üsküdar'a gider iken bir mendil buldum (2x)
Mendilimin içine lokum doldurdum (2x)

They take a trip from Uskudara in the rain
And on the way they fall in love
He's wearing a stiff collar
In a full dress suit
She looks at him longingly through her veil
And casually feeds him candy
Oh, those Turks

Kâtibimi arar iken yanimda buldum (2x)
Kâtip benim, ben kâtibin, el ne karisir?
Kâtibime kolali da gömlek ne güzel yarasir

Kâtibimi arar iken yanimda buldum (2x)
Kâtip benim, ben kâtibin, el ne karisir?
Kâtibime kolali da gömlek ne güzel yarasir (2x)

Izvor: https://genius.com/Eartha-kitt-uska-...sh-tale-lyrics

Poznajemo ovu izvrsnu pjevačicu i glumicu iz dosta filmova:
Novija izvedba uživo iz 1995:

[kedi18]

6. nastavak analize serije "Ölene Kadar" ("Do smrti") by Navid Shahzad:

OK Ep 2 (ii)

One of the underlying themes that mark all Turkish drama series and perhaps explains its phenomenal popularity across linguistic barriers is the emphasis placed on ‘the family.’ A brief survey of Engin’s body of work illustrates this clearly. From Bir Bulut Olsam, through Fatmagulen Sucu Ne , Kara Para Ask and now Olene Kadar; the leitmotif is always the same i.e. the sanctity of the family unit. Daghan returns home from his early morning wanderings to a distraught mother and a family that is concerned for his safety. For Daghan however, their response is surprising. In the eleven years that he has spent behind cold, grey walls he has had to answer to no one except himself. During the long isolation, it was inevitable that darkness should begin to nestle in his heart and enforce a selective memory loss. Daghan forgot- forgot what it was like to have someone wait for him, worry about him, care for him.

Engin’s pained expression mixed with a degree of bewilderment is the perfect reaction to the near hysteria of his mother and his clumsy attempt at an apology is poignant to say the least. For Daghan, the greatest tragedy in his personal saga lies not in his own wasted years but the fallout effect that his unjust incarceration has had on his family. His ‘mountain’ of a father, whom he idolised now appears to be a smaller greying man, his sharp tongued mother ( with a heart of gold!) has been reduced to a nervous wreck and his doting sister has lost her dreams.

It is to the writer’s credit that no other scenes of prison visits are shared with the viewers. It is as though the narrative also considers family visits sacro sanct and the only visit we have been privy to is by Beril. That too since dramatically that is a turning point for Daghan since it slammed the doors to hope and let in the demons of despair. Theories of punishment and rehabilitation emphasize the importance of familial contact to ensure that prisoners continue to have a link with the outer world. Despite the fact that these visits are severely controlled e.g. no physical contact is permitted; they are important in bridging the divide between the confined and the free world. But no clinical findings can gauge the extent of the residual emotional trauma suffered by prisoners sentenced to life terms. For example, we see how untouched Daghan is by the celebratory cup banging orchestrated during his release from prison by unseen men behind steel doors.

The Daghan that we see is far from normal. This is a bruised, battered shell of a once bright, optimistic young man who had a future to look forward to and Engin plays him with admirable sensitivity. His still face devoid of expression and empty eyes, the monotone of his voice coupled with the economy of physical movement create a portrait of a man completely out of sync with his surroundings. He is helped by a script that is sparse and direction which masterfully keeps him in single shots and moving away rather than towards the family nucleus. Obviously seeing Beril has not helped. In fact, it has reawakened the pain in his heart; a heart which now appears to have been frozen.

To say that he never fully recovered from the pain of Beril’s disclosure is to state the obvious and the apparent reason he has gone to see her is our very human tendency to cling to memories, be they painful or otherwise. Just as we find ourselves pressing upon a constantly aching tooth because the pain itself becomes a form of relief, so Daghan relives the ache of Beril’s parting words in an effort to regain his balance. But life is not that easy to tame nor are our emotions and for Daghan, the pain begins to drown itself in a deluge of righteous anger.
Breakfast draws the family together. A taciturnity cloaks Daghan and his only contribution to the banter around the table is to voice his concern for his father’s health. The telephone meant to keep him in touch with the family serves only as a means to perpetuate his feverish search for the missing witness. By now suppressed anger rages like a poison inside him and he loses no time in calling Selvi.

[kedi18]

Drage sevgilice, za laku noć .... medni glas Enginov ...

Kara Para Aşk 34.Bölüm | Elif: ''Ne diyormuş kalbimin sesi?''



Ne diyormuş kalbimin sesi? (Što kaže srce moje?)

[kedi18]

Vay vay vay, uskoro će podne, a posla kao u priči ...


Da vam dan protekne lijepo, drage sevgilice, neka vas prati i ovaj divni video - odabrala Sinema kız:

KERİM & FATMAGÜL Still Loving You _ SCORPİONS

***

Iz filma "Kedi":

U jednoj sceni prolazi i brod "Barış Manço" - zasigurno ne slučajno:



Brod je dobio ime po turskom rock-glazbeniku, skladatelju, glumcu i telvizijskom producentu Barışu Mançu(1943-1999)

U filmu je i korištena i njegova glazba:


Barış Manço - Arkadaşım Eşşek (1980) - "Moj prijatelj magarac" (na početku klipa Barış priča bajku "Bremenski gradski svirači" braće Grimm o tome kako su pas, mačka, pijetao i magarac - köpek, kedi, horoz, eşşek - prevarili (nasamarili) bandu razbojnika ...








Die Bremer Stadtmusikanten / Bremenski gradski svirači Gerharda Marcksa (1953) ispred Vijećnice u Bremenu


Lijepa sličica iz filma: "sokak kedi" i "ciğer kedi":




Kolay gelsin!

[kedi18]

Bravo, bravo, Engine!

Jučer, 18.2.18 (bravo i za broj 18!), dok kedi radi, radi, radi, ti se spustio do morskoga žala s mužem svoje managerice Özlem, gdinom Ömerom Durakom:

Evo vas:



A on na svojem IG-u piše za vas:
Olağan şüpheliler

Dakle: Ordinary suspects ...
Ilitiga: Obični osumnjičenici ... (Valjda: Uvijek dežurni krivci! )

Vala, Engine, baci te očale u more da doplivaju do Jadrana ... pa će ih kedi staviti na tombolu! Koji se broj izvuče .. njemu (njoj) očale idu!


Kako ti nježno gledaš ove KIZLAR ve KADINLAR ve HANIMLAR. Da mi je samo znati što pritom i misliš ... Zlato milo naše.





Vježbajmo turski: http://www.gazetemag.com/engin-akyurek-cilginligi/

[kedi18]

Za dobru večer ... misliti pozitivno ... unatoč umoru ...



A onda čitati na turskom ... i razumjeti svaku desetu ... dvadesetu riječ ...

Vrtimo stranice najnovijeg broja časopisa KAFASINA GÖRE

***

I pripremati se za premijeru filma "Kedi" u Zagrebu:




***
Sinema KIZ, neka nama Engina s njegovom Sefom ... sa Sefom smo sigurne. A Cansu nek ostane što dalje ...

[kedi18]

Lijepo je biti u toplom ... i raditi u toplom ... dok vani nam zima (iznenada) dolazi!!!

Radosna muzička točka iz filma "Kedi":

Erkin Koray: Deli Kadın (Luda ženo!)



Tekst pjesme:

Deli kadın, hiç sen beni anlamadın
Sopa mopa kar etmiyor taş kafana
Öldüm desen yalan, kaldım desen yalan
Hepsi yalan

Bir gün aman diyeceksin
Sen o zaman bileceksin
Aptal gibi, şapsal gibi sevdim sandım
Artık bıktım dertlerinden, çok usandım

***

Odabrala Sinema kız ... kao "Kerimilin" (i za laku noć, a djeluje i po danu ):

Ben seni yasaklarda KERIM - FATMA




Riječi pjesme s prijevodom na engleski:

Ben Seni Yasaklarda (Volim te iz daljine/s udaljenosti/na daljinu)

sabahı öptüm gözlerinde (I kissed the morning in your eyes)
geceyi yaktım (I put the night on fire)
ateşi aldım dudağından (I took the fire from your lips)
sözleri yaktım (I put the words on fire)

ben seni uzaklarda (/I loved/ you in distance)
ben seni tuzaklarda (/I loved/ you in traps)
ben seni yasaklarda sevdim (I loved you in forbidden situation)
ben seni yasaklarda ... sevdim (/I loved/ you in forbidden situation)

baharı öptüm saçlarında (I kissed the spring in your hair)
kışları yaktım (I put the winters on fire)
umudu aldım yüreğinden (I took the hope from your heart)
düşleri yaktım (I put dreams on fire)

ben seni uzaklarda (/I loved/ you in distance)
ben seni tuzaklarda (/I loved/ you in traps)
ben seni yasaklarda sevdim (I loved you in forbidden situation)
ben seni yasaklarda (I put the words on fire)

Kolay gelsin, sevgili sevgilice! )))))))))))))))

[kedi18]

7. nastavak analize serije "Ölene Kadar" ("Do smrti") by Navid Shahzad:

Ep 2 (iii)

This episode is unique in introducing the viewer to four sets of dining tables across which we capture the essence of bonds between families, siblings and spouses. The Soysur family is contrasted against the women-only family of Selvi, the orphaned siblings Yilmaz and Vildan and the couple Beril and Ender. We are privy to the most private of conversations, the most shocking of revelations and monumental lies. But before we sit at each table as viewers, both sympathetic and otherwise; we must return to Daghan as he awaits arrival.







It is interesting to note that Selvi and Daghan strike a similar monochromatic colour note in these early scenes. The materials of their clothing consist of leather and knit, almost androgynous in Selvi’s case and casual and worn out in Daghan’s.



He confronts her immediately and in one heart stopping ironic moment appears to have recognized his accuser. While we witness this scene indoors, a stylishly dressed Beril is at the front door!

Turagay is to be saluted for the clever way in which he juxtaposes Daghan’s past and present using only a nouveau arte glass door to separate the two!



Frustrated with Selvi’s firm refusal to take the missing witness issue further, Daghan leaves the house with Selvi literally tripping at his heels just as Beril, unable to face Daghan returns to her car. Just as Turagay used the unseen dogs barking at Beril’s house – a classic reference to Erebus the multiple headed hound said to guard Hell’s gates which is what Beril’s life will be henceforth (and perhaps a forewarning of Tekin’s hounds!); so we see yet another excellent example of the effective use of ambient sound. Turagay has Selvi sidestep an unseen car which screeches to a halt and honks to avoid hitting her. Using sound cleverly in a visual format minus the visual itself comes only from a mature and deep understanding of how integrally sight and sound compliment and supplement each other. Though used extensively in film, this is an art few have mastered on television and Turagay is a great teacher.

Much to Farhi’s curiousity and Beril’s nonplussed reaction, Daghan and Selvi walk past both seated in the car. A bleak reminder that the past is never far from us. Consumed with anger and unable to shake off a doggedly persistent Selvi, Daghan goes to the extent of ‘firing’ his lawyer. He is rescued by none other than Yilmaz who pulls Selvi away for a series of flashbacks which add to the mosaic beginning to take shape.

WE now see the camera following Daghan weaving his way between skeletons of once great sea faring vessels. They now stand silent; their glory days over like beached whales unable to go back to the freedom of the sea.






The silent figures who work on them are industrious, faceless, nameless men bent on repairing, repainting these once proud ships that rode the waves . This community of men live together as brothers bound by a shared past. Unloved, forgotten like the debris that floats to shore with each set of waves; they live on the periphery of the great city. Ayetekin Atas masterfully uses a refrain that describes each man’s state of mind including Daghan’s. Ostensibly played over a workman’s radio; the lyrics of the song roughly translated mean: ‘no one knows my misery/ I wander round/ Live your life as you want to/ your life will end/ keep going…not that hard.’
Atas is a genius at creating musical scores that complement narratives. The series Bir Bulut Olsam owes a great deal of its success to the haunting songs and music which he used in that (also) ill fated series. He does not disappoint with Olene Kadar using many of his signature melodies to enhance dramatic action.
Daghan finally reaches his goal and we see Mehmet played masterfully by Ragip Savas leaning against a post looking for all the world like an ageing grizzly bear. This is the man who is the master of all he surveys. The surrogate father, elder brother, confidante, friend, mate of all the lost souls who work at the boatyard. This place is a graveyard not only for the once magnificent ships silhouetted against a seagull infested sky; it is also a graveyard of memory and love, family and child, manhood and dreams. It is in this context, the perfect place for Daghan given the present state of his mind.
Daghan greets Mehmet with the respect that is a master’s due. The latter looks at him without recognition but both break out into wide smiles as Mehmet manages to place the ‘mountain of a man’ standing next to him.



As Daghan smiles for the first time since his return; it is as though the sun breaks through the clouds. Engin has a marvelously infectious smile which lights up his eyes and allows for a small dimple to appear on his left cheek.



It is a smile that warms the bitter cold of the day and the instant camaraderie between the two men is indicative of a shared past as well as a healthy, mutual respect. What should have been discussed between father and son is talked of here while sitting on a stained wornout wooden bench placed against a wall on a windswept rickety porch. We spare our loved ones any reference to the heartache that threatens to asphyxiate us because we do not want them to feel the same agony. So it is to Mehmet that Daghan pours out his heart at the injustice he has suffered ; the pain that never ceases to gnaw at him and the bitter taste of anger that is rising in him like a lava seeking a thin earth crust to break through.
Mehmet tries unsuccessfully to dissuade Daghan from pursuing the case but the latter’s heart and mind are so obsessed with fact finding that he does not budge. Mehmet finally promises assistance through his former police colleagues and the matter ends there. Brief as it is , the first meeting between Daghan and Mehmet is enormously significant. It is through Mehmet’s network that Daghan will find his bearing and eventually take control of what follows. It is through Mehmet’s generous support with the orphaned Osman in tow, that Daghan will begin, albeit tentatively, to learn to live again. It is from the ruins of men and ship and abode that surround him, that he will gather the strength to stand up and face an unknown tomorrow.

[kedi18]

Gledaj, gledaj, Kerime ... i čudi se svojim divnim okicama ...




... kako se Engin slikava po kafićima, s knjigicom ...

... danas, 22.2.18:

[kedi18]

Sinema kız, vidim da je kod tebe napadao snijeg, pokrio i dolinu i brijeg

Dovuci, ako si hrabra, na ovu klupicu Engina (hahah, on, zimogrozničak, mora biti još hrabriji):

Pa se bacite u pravljenje Snjegovića - kardan adam -

Prvo ovog:



... pa ovog (zahtjevnijeg) ...



Onda gledajte u snježne bulutlar





A ja ću vas gledati iza stakla:

Selamlar:


Sinema kız komentira današnju Enginovu fotografiju:

Ha, vidim da si našla novu fotku, Engin u kafiću s knjigom - ništa čudno, ionako u njegovoj Suadiye dominira Kıtapçı sokak.

Zaslužila si jantar-okice:

[kedi18]

Dobar vam dan, sevgilice! ))))))))))))

kedi18 kaže:

Gledaj, gledaj, Kerime ... i čudi se svojim divnim okicama ...
http://img5.fotos-hochladen.net/uplo...ct1kad0yzg.gif


... kako se Engin slikava po kafićima, s knjigicom ...

... danas, 22.2.18:

https://s17.postimg.org/54z53xbv3/Engin_22.2.18.jpg

Što nam to čita Engin?
Evo odgovora!

Pametne djevojčice našle su primjerak knjige na turskom:



Paul Auster: Karanlıktaki adam

A druga djevojčica postavila je i analizu romana Man in the Dark:

Devoured by darkness
In Paul Auster's novel, a writer imagines a parallel America riven by civil war. By Maya Jaggi

An ageing writer alone in the dark, grappling with insomnia, holds his memories at bay by imagining the predicament of a man who wakes to find himself trapped in a hole in the ground. The novel's opening has the hallmarks of Auster-land, in its play of metafiction and metaphysics, consciousness and confinement, and its steadfast obeisance to Kafka and Beckett. As the sleepless narrator says, echoing Beckett's Worstward Ho: "I fail again and again, fail more often than I succeed, but that doesn't mean I don't give it my best effort."

Yet this is 2007 and "another white night in the great American wilderness". While Auster's 2005 novel The Brooklyn Follies ended as September 11 dawned, the man in the hole is Owen Brick, a children's magician in his 30s who wakes up in military uniform, in a parallel America in which the twin towers still stand, yet which is at war - not with Iraq but with itself. As a sergeant offers him a rope with which to haul himself out of the hole, Brick faces a dilemma, to kill or have himself and his loved ones killed.

His insomniac creator is August Brill, 72, recuperating in his daughter's house in Vermont, with a shattered leg from a car accident. He is haunted by thoughts of his French wife Sonia, who died of cancer, and the loneliness and bereavement of their divorced daughter Miriam and granddaughter Katya, who has dropped out of film school. Katya's lover Titus was a civilian truck driver taken hostage during the Iraq war and killed in an act of extreme brutality revealed towards the end of the novel.

While Brill has shelved the memoir he is meant to be writing, and Miriam is at work on a biography of Nathaniel Hawthorne's daughter Rose, Katya is her grandfather's companion in displacing reality, though her drug is not invention but consumption. Hooked on five DVDs a night, she and Brill analyse classics of world cinema, from Renoir and De Sica to Ray and Ozu, in a drive to expunge the videoed image of Titus's death. Yet, as with Brill's fictions, their interests shadow their own preoccupations.

One of Brill's obsessions is war, though he sites his imaginary conflict "on home ground. America cracking apart, the noble experiment finally dead." His civil war has been triggered by New York's secession, and the breakaway "Pacifica" of California-Oregon-Washington, against the "Federals" led by President George W Bush. Brill is extrapolating from memories of the 1967 race riots in Newark ("That was my war"), but also from disquiet about a country riven over the "war on terror", its east and west coasts forming a dissenting, liberal consensus. "America's at war all right, we're just not fighting it here. Not yet, anyway," he says. More compelling than this political scenario is Brick's embodiment of the unease of his creator - "too young for Korea and too old for Vietnam" - at never having served in a war himself. The amiable Everyman's denial at finding himself in uniform, and ordered to kill, is a convincing take on the shocking absurdity of being drafted.

Yet Brill is also fleeing a more intimate grief and guilt, "staring at a crack in the wall and dredging up remnants from the past, broken things that can never be repaired". Brick's adulterous encounter with an old flame reflects Brill's anguish at his own past infidelities. As he gradually confides to Katya, he was estranged from his wife for nine years before they were reconciled - years lost in "my dumb-ass flings and dalliances". Regret fuels his anxiety about his daughter's depressed solitude five years after her divorce from another man having a mid-life fling.

As Brill finally confronts Titus's murder, he recalls other brutal tales that have seeded his imagination, from a woman in the Resistance torn limb from limb by Nazi jeeps, to a spy thrown out of a window by Soviet agents as the cold war ended. These images are balanced by acts of anguished altruism, as people send their loved ones away rather than see them harmed.

Forced, with Brill, to face the "pitiless dark" that devoured Titus, the novel suggests a need to come to terms with such darkness, rather than attempt to make sense of it. As Brill says in lamenting Miriam's "self-punishing goodness": "I wish to God she would learn that the rotten acts human beings commit against one another are not just aberrations - they're an essential part of who we are." Titus's confused motives in going to Iraq despite opposing the war - whether spurned by Katya, driven by profit, or seeking to "be a part of history" and find material as an aspiring but failing writer - are themselves part of the senselessness of his death.

All this would make for a rich and disturbing novel, all the more poignant because of its dedication to the Israeli novelist David Grossman, and the memory of his son Uri, who died serving in the army during Israel's war with Lebanon in 2006. But the novel's tricksier aspect is that Brick has been ordered to end the civil war by assassinating its inventor, Brill - the grey-haired man in a wheelchair who is a Pulitzer prize-winning journalist.

Brill, whose car accident may have been a death wish, is thinking up "ever more artful and devious ways to kill myself", and Brick is a means to a "roundabout suicide" in a "house of grieving, wounded souls". Brill eventually seeks to destroy the man he has conjured up to enact his suicide - the would-be assassin assassinated. Yet a hint of weary routine about these metafictional manoeuvres detracts from a novel that at moments can illuminate the relationship between a writer's imagination and raw life, and how we invent other worlds, not just to escape from, but to question our own.

Paul Auster: "Čovjek u tami"


Kratko podsjećanje: Moto Enginove druge priče
"Konuşan Kafalar" ("Pričalice")

bio je:

„Ljudi kažu da moraš putovati kako bi vidio svijet. Ponekad pomislim da ćeš, ako samo ostaneš na jednom mjestu i držiš oči otvorene, vidjeti sve ono sa čime se možeš nositi.“

- Auggi Wren (Harvey Keitel) u filmu „Dim“ redatelja Waynea Wanga i scenarista Paula Austera

Kolay gelsin!

[kedi18]

Sinema kız:

Jednu od najljepših pjesama Nazima Hikmeta, "O životu", govorio je na koncertu prošlog mjeseca Halit Ergenc. Pola videa je verzija s engleskim titlovima, a druga polovica je isto, sa španjolskim.
A ja ću dodati i odavno spremljenu tu pjesmu na engleskom, radi usporedbe s titlovima.

Nazim Hikmet (1902 - 1963): ON LIVING - ''Yaşamaya Dair''


I

Living is no laughing matter:
you must live with great seriousness
like a squirrel, for example—
I mean without looking for something beyond and above living,
I mean living must be your whole occupation.
Living is no laughing matter:
you must take it seriously,
so much so and to such a degree
that, for example, your hands tied behind your back,
your back to the wall,
or else in a laboratory
in your white coat and safety glasses,
you can die for people—
even for people whose faces you’ve never seen,
even though you know living
is the most real, the most beautiful thing.
I mean, you must take living so seriously
that even at seventy, for example, you’ll plant olive trees—
and not for your children, either,
but because although you fear death you don’t believe it,
because living, I mean, weighs heavier.



II

Let’s say we’re seriously ill, need surgery—
which is to say we might not get up
from the white table.
Even though it’s impossible not to feel sad
about going a little too soon,
we’ll still laugh at the jokes being told,
we’ll look out the window to see if it’s raining,
or still wait anxiously
for the latest newscast. . .
Let’s say we’re at the front—
for something worth fighting for, say.
There, in the first offensive, on that very day,
we might fall on our face, dead.
We’ll know this with a curious anger,
but we’ll still worry ourselves to death
about the outcome of the war, which could last years.
Let’s say we’re in prison
and close to fifty,
and we have eighteen more years, say,
before the iron doors will open.
We’ll still live with the outside,
with its people and animals, struggle and wind—
I mean with the outside beyond the walls.
I mean, however and wherever we are,
we must live as if we will never die.



III

This earth will grow cold,
a star among stars
and one of the smallest,
a gilded mote on blue velvet—
I mean this, our great earth.
This earth will grow cold one day,
not like a block of ice
or a dead cloud even
but like an empty walnut it will roll along
in pitch-black space . . .
You must grieve for this right now
—you have to feel this sorrow now—
for the world must be loved this much
if you’re going to say “I lived”. . .




From Poems of Nazim Hikmet, translated by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk, published by Persea Books. Copyright © 1994 by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk. Used with the permission of Persea Books. All rights reserved.

(Eto, ja sam izrezala tri sličice s tekstom izvornika.)

Halit Ergenc ... poem ''Yasamaya Dair'' Subtitled in ENGLISH - ESPAÑOL concert 15/1/2018



U poruci je bio i ovaj lijepi tekst:

Nazim Hikmet

Nazim Hikmet (1902-1963) jedan je od najvećih turskih pesnika 20. veka koji je prvi počeo da koristi slobodni stih i prekinuo svaku vezu sa pesničkom tradicijom u Turskoj. Autor je više zbirki poezije, četiri romana i nekoliko drama. Potiče iz ugledne i bogate porodice. Majka koja je bila poljsko-nemačkog porekla, bila je turska slikarka, a otac istaknuti diplomata. Nazim Hikmet je uprkos tome u mladosti prihvatio marksistički pogled na svet i uputio se na studije u Sovjetski Savez gde je bio očaran ruskim futuristima i konstruktivistima. Najveći uticaj na njega je u+izvršio Vladimir Majakovski. Godine 1925. postao je član komunističke partije Turske. Nazim Hikmet je više puta hapšen i osuđivan pod optužbom za širenje levičarskih ideja. Posle višegodišnjeg tamnovanja, pušten je na slobodu 1950. godine, nakon dolaska Demokratske partije na vlast u Turskoj. Uprkos tome, trajno je napustio domovinu, a 1951. godine oduzeto mu je tursko državljanstvo. Umro je u Moskvi, gde je i sahranjen.

Nazim Hikmet je pesnik slobodarskog duha, osobenog senzibiliteta, veliki humanista koji je u poeziji pronalazio smisao života. poezija mu se odlikuje dubinom, misaonošću, optimizmom, specifičnom muzikalnošću. Njegove najznačajnije zbirke pesama su 835 stihova (835 Satir), Đokonda i Si-Ja-U (Jokond ile Si-Ya-U), Zašto se Benerdži ubio (Benerci Kendini Naçın Öldürdü), Pisma Taranta Babu (Taranta Babu'ya Mektuplar), Destan o šejhu Bedretinu, simavnijskom kadiji (Simavna Kadisi Şeyh Bedrettın Destanı), Ljudski pejzaži iz moje zemlje (Memeleketimden İnsan Manzaraları).

Pored romana Krv ne govori (Kan Konuşmaz), Nazim Hikmet je napisao i romane Zelene jabuke (Yeşıl Elmalar), Pravo na život (Yaşamak Hakkı) i Život je divna stvar (Yaşamak Güzel Şey Be Kardeşım) objavljen kod nas 1969. godine. Poznate su i njegove drame Lobanja (Kafatasi), Pokojnikova kuća (Bir Ölü Evi yahut Merhumun Hanesı), Slava ili zaboravljeni čovek (Unutulan Adam), objavljena kod nas 1974, i druge. U bivšoj Jugoslaviji bio je jedan od najcenjenijih najprevođenijih turskih pesnika, čije su pesme objavljene u nekoliko zbirki i u nizu književnih časopisa širom ZEMLJE.

Hvala tebi, Sinema kız (tekst pjesme sam oblikovala prema originalu, ali ga forum ne prihvaća; barem se vide tvoji boldovi), i onima koji su tebi poslali video s Halitom i ovaj tekst o Nazimu.

- A ti, kedi, idi čitaj svoj kitap. Barem do ponoći. Tamam mı?
- Tamam.

[kedi18]

Inspektor Ömer Demir u ulozi meteorologa:

"Što mi strašite kedicu?! Što je strašite zimom koja će sutra doći u njenu i moju Dalmaciju?! (Nije za ništa moj arkadaš Engin spominjao riječ Dalmacija u svojoj prvoj priči.) Dakle, yeter yeter, yeter artık s tim strašnim najavama polarne hladnoće. Olmaz. Tamam mı?"



Eyvallah Ömer Bey, eyvallah! Ağzına sağlık! :klap: