In Search of Comic Relief

My manuscript, MIST OF KAVALA seems to be harboring a  village idiot.
But don't we all need a little levity?

The comic relief can tell truths where another character would pay dearly, and when he says something particularly profound, the foreshadow sends shivers through us. We swallow the bitterness and ask for more because every statement is mixed with babble and fun.

Alas! The more we love the idiot, the more he becomes a valuable tool for the writer to pull out from under us. Comic relief, aka, expendable.

I'm going to make a case here, with popular Turkish television.

You know how I've been watching my soap, Kuzey Guney?
(spoiler alert)

Enter: Ali Guntan

Ali is all fun and jokes, and more dear to Kuzey than a brother.
In the season two finale, Ali takes a bullet, and it's pretty much Kuzey's fault.
I swear I used up a whole box of tissues from all the crying.

Says me: A curse on both your houses!

Well, that would be Mercutio's line, really.
And doesn't everybody want to play Mercutio?

Obviously, Ali was not the equivalent of Mercutio, but he played the same role.

Without Ali, the writers had to come up with another comic relief - Yunus, a particulary talkative taxi driver. His character doesn't carry the same weight, but he's still useful to the audience for a laugh, and to connect some important dots.

There are some good writers over there at Ay Yapim, I tell you.

Another, less useful example of comic relief is part of my other favorite show, Muhteşem Yüzyıl. In the murderous harem of Hürrem Sultan, eunuchs Gul Aga, Sumbul Aga, and Kiraz Aga provide respite from the drama - a sort of palate cleanser, if you will. The source of clever phrases and comic actions, these guys aren't killed off, but they're frequently sent away.

Now I doubt my village idiot will be as masterful as Mercutio, but my gosh, my characters are tiring me out! Anti-heros, village idiots...  At this rate, it feels like I'll never finish this story.

And so I end with this quote from English poet John Dryden:

"Shakespeare show'd the best of his skill in his Mercutio, and he said himself, that he was forced to kill him in the third Act, to prevent being killed by him."

Muhteşem Mythical Birds

Simurgh

The new Muhteşem Yüzyıl season is up and running, and Hurrem Sultan... Well, I can't wait to see how she gets out of this mess: There's a new girl in the harem, and Sultan Suleiman has fallen head over heals over her.

Firuze is more than just a girl though. She's got something magical going on. Suleiman was in her dreams- before she met him. She heals Hatice Sultan with a sweep of the hand and a Persian poem. And she has a mysterious tattoo on the back of her neck. This girl is my style!  (I'm still rooting for Hurrem to win, of course.)

Last week's episode had me googling all over the place. I'm still looking for the correct mythical bird of Firuze's hairpin. It's not the Simurgh (above), or the Shahrukh (which is the root of the word roc, btw). It's a lovesick bird with a tragic end.

A la Arabian Nights, she tells Suleiman this tale:

The diman (?) falls in love with the sea - a sea as blue as Suleiman's eyes.
It protects the sea, so it can't bear to leave the shore for fear that something would happen.
It never drinks a drop of the water.
When the bird dies of thirst, waves wrap around the body and pull it down to the deepest, deepest heart of the sea.

Is she planning to kill Suleiman? The Ottomans are about to march on Tabriz. She might be in the harem on a mission. I guess we'll find out. At the moment, it seems she's obsessed with Suleiman as her destiny.

Meanwhile, I'm obsessed with the bird. The story feels familiar, but I might be confusing it with the Greek myth of Narcissus.

Has anyone else heard of this mythical bird?

Alaca Taşı, or Agate for the Unlucky

Alaca Taşı - Agate

As I watch the Turkish series Muhteşem Yüzyıl, more and more interesting folklore comes up. Last episode, there was something called an Alaca Taşı - literally, "a taking stone". So, being the diligent researcher that I am, I dug up some information about it.

An Alaca Taşı is a type of color changing agate, white with black veins, in this case. The stone captures illness, bad luck, stress, or any other problem and locks it up inside itself.

It's all in black and white.

Black:Evil
White:Good

If the agate has done its job, then the black veins creep into the white stone, eventually turning the whole thing black. Soaking the stone in white vinegar "resets" it for further use, so I'm guessing the color change has to do with and acid/base balance in the stone, but I'm not a scientist. All agates can change color if exposed to heat or chemicals.

In researching this stone, I also discovered that "mood rings" are actually a type of agate. I remember getting one as a souvenir one summer, and then watching it slowly change from green to blue, and back again.

I digress.

Agate is known across the world from absorbing negativity, and is used in making evil eye charms. I even found one site claiming that agate "Can give you the strength to carry on."

Hmm. I might want to find out where I hid that souvenir ring.

Historical (in)Accuracy

clipart etc

ost everything I write has roots in some archeological site, artwork, or historical figure. I take what information I need and leave what I don't, which isn't easy. I want to honor the history, yet my story needs are different (and more important). It takes me a few days to process the research and pick out the suitable details. I don't pretend to write historical fiction. I write fantasy, yet what I keep usually rings pretty true. However...lately, I've been wondering just how far I'm willing to drift from my sources.

As far as accuracy of place, I try to be strong willed and make the story fit the landmarks. I don't change things. Two excellent examples of my reasoning:

1) Assassin's Creed-Revelations put a port in Cappadocia.
2)The International relocated Yerebatan Sarnici beneath the Blue Mosque.

Shifts like that irk me because I know better, and because those shifts mislead people. Many viewers or readers won't know the difference, and worse, they might take the information at face value. I suppose the important issue is exposing the public to the landmark, regardless of location, but it bugs me. Does it bug you?

I find historical figures are even more sticky to handle. So much so, I'm thinking to rename some major characters in Burnt Amber to avoid a big headache later.

Exhibit A:

The Turkish series I currently <3 <3 <3, Muhteşem Yüzyıl (Magnificent Century), featured Isabella Fortuna, Princess of Castile -  a whole subplot of her falling for Sultan Suleiman. Give me a break.

In fourteen hundred ninety-two
Columbus sailed the ocean blue.

That Isabella died in 1504. (I think they're referring to queen Isabella - I can't find evidence to the contrary.) What was she doing in Istanbul in late1526?

Don't screw with my head like that, people. Readers and viewers are not stupid, and we don't appreciate being misled. Although what worries me most is the idea that these inaccurate episodes may be the only history lesson people get about these rulers. At least give us a decent disclaimer. No?

So. Maybe I can and should go farther from my source than I thought, especially since I know accuracy is not all it seems to be either. Winners wrote their version of the story. What would the losers have to say?

I say creative license is a blessing. What say you?

Hürrem's Ring

enjoyistanbul.com

Who is Hürrem?

We in the west know her as Roxelana. Remember my post a while back about her? She's the Sultan's wife with an amazing story - a real life Scheherezade.

Kidnapped by the Tatars and sold into the Ottoman harem, Aleksandra Lisowska fell in love with the Sultan, changed her religion, and changed her name to Hürrem.  (Roxelana means 'the Ruthenian/Russian'.) Suleiman the Magnificent legally married her, deposing his first son in favor of Hürrem's child. The scenario caused quite a stir.

With the rise of Otto-mania and the TV series Muhteşem Yüzyıl (Magnificent Century), Hürrem has found a new following. The storyline about the reign of Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent is the equivalent of the The Tudors for Turkey.

Even if some think portraying Ottoman court rivalry is unbecoming, there's great stuff coming out of this show, especially the jewelry. Example: Hürrem's ring. Lots and lots of girls are wishing for that one. (I'm one of them.) Don't like green? They have a purple one too. You can probably find one in every color, if you try hard. Wow rings are in this year. ;)

The series story behind the ring is interesting, even if I'm not sure how much of it is historically accurate. Hürrem's ring is symbolic of her status.

Suleiman was in the process of making the ring himself before he was decreed as the Sultan. His first Haseki Sultan ('commonlaw wife') assumed he was making it for her. Then Suleiman is called to Topkapi Palace to fulfill his birthright. Aleksandra is brought to the harem, and she hatches a plan to become the favorite. (Not hard, since she was beautiful and smart.) The first wife, Mahidevran, arrives with the Sultan's first born son. She thinks she's the favorite, but it's already clear Aleksandra is taking the lead. Guess who gets the ring.

Mahidevran is furious and manipulates some girls into stealing the ring from Aleksandra - now officially named "Hürrem" (my joy) by the Sultan. In the power struggle, Hürrem gets tossed in a dungeon and beaten to a pulp, but Mahidevran is banished in the end.

 Meryem Uzerli plays Hürrem. Uzerli is half Turkish, half German. Her hair is not naturally red, but it looks good on her, don't you think?

She co-stars with Halit Ergenç, a popular star from the other TV series Binbir Gece. I should write something about him one of these days. He really deserves his own post.


Here's a trailer clip for you.: