The Other

Ece Vahapoglu, Victoria Holbrook

Description

What if a conservative girl falls in love with a secular young woman?

What if a conservative girl falls in love with a secular young woman?

The novel discloses the codes of cultural differentiation in 21st century Turkey as it focuses on the details of the two young women’s lives, their families, and their emotional and sexual lives.

Esin is an attractive, happily married Turkish woman with a modern, Western-oriented outlook and a successful career hosting business meetings in Istanbul. She would normally have nothing in common with Kubra, a conservative religious girl she met at college in the States. Kubra wears the Islamist headscarf and lives with her parents.

As Esin and Kübra form an intimate friendship, the chapters of the novel open out onto each woman’s emotional and sexual experience in turn. The cultural divisions of contemporary Turkey are dramatized through their personal lives and the dynamics within their families.

Each woman’s curiosity about the other’s mysterious world gradually takes on a boldly erotic character. At first interested in the external trappings of each other’s lives, they embark on a journey of spiritual and sensual discovery whereby each woman comes to know 'The Other.'

Sujets

• Islam
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Anthem Press
• Date de parution: 26 juin 2016
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781783084531
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Other
The Other
ANTHEM PRESS
An imprint of Wimbledon Publishing Company Limited (WPC)
First published in the United Kingdom in 2016 by
ANTHEM PRESS
75–76 Blackfriars Road
London SE1 8HA
www.anthempress.com
Original title: Oteki
Copyright © Ece Vahapoğlu 2009
Copyright © Kalem Agency 2009
Originally published in Turkey by Dogan Book
English translation copyright © Victoria Holbrook 2009
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.
The moral rights of the author have been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All the characters and events described in this novel are imaginary and any similarity with real people or events is purely coincidental.
A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978-1-78308-452-4
This title is also available as an ebook.
The Other
E CE V AHAPO LU
“Have you ever kissed a woman?”
Kubra was startled. This was a question she had not expected. They often sparred in conversation and she was used to Esin’s curiosity about the religious life and the turban, 1 but she wasn’t ready to have such a subject spoken of out loud.
“N ... no,” she managed to say.
Esin averted her gaze shyly, with a slightly flirtatious air and looked up at the ceiling. She gently tossed back her blonde hair.
“Hmmm. I’ve never tried it either. I wonder what it’s like to kiss someone of the same sex.”
What was Esin trying to say?
Kübra felt uncomfortably hot. Her own emotions frightened her, probably for the first time in her life. She felt guilty and ashamed. She longed to sense Esin’s skin, feel her breath and lie down beside her.
She wanted her.
She couldn’t sleep for several nights. She had crossed the line; she felt attracted to a woman. She had always wanted to love innocently. She didn’t want anyone to know. She didn’t even want Esin to know. She was ashamed.
Kübra enjoyed being with a woman who’d married for love. She enjoyed Esin’s company more than that of the boy she was being forced to marry. Her fiancé did not excite her at all. Maybe deep down, she envied Esin, who could tell? Esin felt a secret bond with this girl, although Kübra came from a world she knew nothing about. Through Kübra’s eyes she saw herself differently. Without her, she might never have discovered the woman she now saw in herself: a woman who could love the other without prejudice, welcome her into her life; a different sort of woman, one who didn’t shun religion; a person not all that different from Esin but someone she hadn’t known existed until now.
They were both experiencing feelings they’d never had before. They couldn’t figure each other out but were growing closer and enjoyed the time they spent together. They seemed to fill each other’s unfinished spaces.
This was a moment they would never forget, one that might even hold a bit of happiness they would not be able to measure. The electricity between them filled the room. Would what seemed inevitable be realized?
That tiny moment seemed to last for hours. They felt so strange they could not even look one another in the eye and smile. This was something rare, a chance not everyone had. A girl engaged to be married, a married woman; one veiled, one not. What was this? What kind of pull was this? Was it love? Mutual attraction? Curiosity? A quest for new experiences? Did they want to be with each other? Learn something? Or was it a game?
They had run into each other a few months earlier at an award ceremony, and that insignificant coincidence took them to a place they’d never expected to be.
Six Months Earlier
She looked into the bright spot lit mirror one last time. Her make-up was right, bringing out her straight blonde hair and big blue eyes. In a few moments, she would walk out to face a select audience of five hundred.
She was a young woman who preferred to make her own destiny. She took orders from no one, was rarely intimidated, and did not get lost in the crowd. She was not the sort to live according to the expectations of others; she did not let herself go with the flow. You could say she was a bit of a narcissist. She’d obeyed her parents as a child but did not let her lovers lead her around when she grew up, and she wasn’t dominated by her husband now. And if she had children someday, she was not going to be restricted by that either.
In her country, unions between women, “free” by Western standards, and Eastern-style men, offered some hope, though they might not go smoothly. Turkey’s role as a bridge between East and West had become confusing for everyone by now, foreign or Turk. One lived a modern life in all senses while respecting tradition. This was a society nurtured on differences. Some were lucky enough to make a synthesis of it all but others did not know who they were.
Like other girls educated abroad by their Westernized families, Esin had a comfortable life compared to the general run of society. She’d had lovers before she married, did as she liked and traveled; she had a broad social life and work that put her before the public. True, girls from conservative backgrounds too were having freer relationships these days and trying to choose their own professions.
After studying in the States, she had returned to Istanbul and done public relations and marketing for several companies. While working in the international news section of a TV station, she’d taken lessons in diction and begun hosting evening business events, award ceremonies and select gatherings. She liked being out front; she liked her work.
Once again, she was hosting an award ceremony, this one for “The Most Successful Personalities of the Year” chosen by a financial magazine. Although the winners were supposed to have been selected by the magazine’s readers, it was clear at a glance that, that was not really the case.
The awards had been given in line with the loyalties of the conservative publishing group that put out the magazine. True, the “Businessman of the Year” and “Businesswoman of the Year” were prominent, modern personalities but the other award winners represented a “certain” social sector.
The name of the “Entrepreneur of the Year,” Hikmet Akansan, seemed familiar to her. He was often mentioned in the press but she knew the name in another connection.
For now, she had to focus and put such thoughts aside. She was about to go onstage and give the presentation.
Esin Ulucan Aksoy had taken part in a continuous string of such events during the last few years and this one did not unnerve her. She impressed people with her speech, her fine diction, her lively tone and emphasis; her presentations were a success. It was the pleasant thrill of being out in front of people that made her heart beat faster for a few seconds. When she first started doing this work, she had not been able to control her nerves. She used to have to press her hands on her breast and take a few deep breaths before she could walk out to the podium. And when she did go out on stage, she felt completely naked before the crowd. Only after she began reading out the text in her hand, did her self-confidence return, and the sense of being naked in public pass.
The lights went down in the large, air-conditioned hall. The music started, the spotlight fell on Esin, and she walked out onto the stage. The wireless microphone attached around the back of her head to her ears clashed a bit with the classic style of her beige suit but it was the most comfortable sort of microphone for this kind of work. She looked out toward the audience, glanced imperceptibly at her notes, and began. As she uttered the word “welcome,” the hall exploded with applause. She introduced the first speaker. Then one by one, she called the award winners and award presenters to the stage.
The Minister of Finance was presenting The “Entrepreneur of the Year” award to Hikmet Akansan. Esin’s attention was drawn to a slight stirring in the front rows of the audience. She saw a familiar face in a seat just behind the protocol row but couldn’t make out who it was. A young woman with her head veiled was clapping enthusiastically. “She’s probably a relative of Akansan,” Esin thought.
In recent years, she’d begun to see more turbaned women at these sorts of events. The change taking place in the protocol row was arresting. It was a tableau reflecting the change in the country, and it was engraved on Esin’s consciousness.
As the flash of the cameras exploded and pictures were taken, Esin was thinking, “Who was that girl?”
The award winners overdid their expressions of gratitude at the microphone and the ceremony ended later than it should have. By the time she came down off the stage, she noticed that her high heels were killing her. She took a seat in the audience once the crowd had gradually begun to disperse. Just as she was thinking, “If only everyone would leave, so I can get out of these high heels and put on my Babettes,” the girl in the turban she’d seen a little while before, came up to her. “You were great, it was a lovely ceremony. Congratulations,” she said nervously. “I got a bit excited when my father received an award.” She paused and continued: “Actually, I wanted to say someth