This novel is both reality and fiction. Ömer Seyfettin, with his subtle, satirical pen, shows some of the peculiarities and absurdities of actual events, and depicts the state of mind of an increasingly numerous youth who are ignorant, insolent, and unafraid to write and speak about subjects they know nothing about; he invites them to the right path. The greatest merit of the novel is that it creates the most widespread laughter with a solid magic of expression. We published this work with the aim of making our readers laugh and presenting them with an excellent, elegant novel. Since Ömer Seyfettin is a well-known figure to everyone, we saw no need to discuss him further.
***
When freedom was declared, I was in Izmir. My friends found me among the applause, the waving of red and green flags, and the mindless crowd piling on top of each other, shouting “long live, long live.”
“Hey, what are you still doing here?” they said.
“What should I do if I don’t stay?” I opened my mouth.
“What will you do! Go to Istanbul,” they shouted, “a young man like you—a philosopher, writer, poet, historian, intellectual—can serve his nation in the capital. But not here…”
And they lifted me on their shoulders. They began to carry me around on their hands, raising me in the air. The people, thinking I was one of the heroes of freedom, forcibly took me from their hands. Kissing my feet and the cuffs of my trousers, they paraded me through the streets for hours. I did not think these demonstrations were too much for me. Because I knew that in Turkey, there was no one else who had specialized in the science of embryology besides me. And the people, without knowing it, were raising me up for this merit of mine.
Could a homeland live without science, knowledge, learning, or philosophy? If I had not spent my sleepless nights studying embryology, could we have seen this beautiful and bright day of happiness? I was thinking about this all alone at the Paris Café on the wharf. It was already well past midnight.
Above Mersinli, a dawn was breaking in violet, purple, and bluish colors. The waiters were dozing, and free Ottomans with human rights were passing before me. I got up. I fell in behind them. They were probably a bit drunk. “What is this new people, born into a new world, talking about?” I wondered. They didn’t notice me approaching. One was saying: “If this is having fun, what is not having fun?”
“Staying up without sleeping…”
“If we had known there was something to staying awake until morning, we would have done it in Abdülhamit’s time too.”
I smiled. My heart was beating. It had not been three days since the declaration of freedom. “Yesterday” was separating, becoming Abdülhamit’s era. As I listened to them, I heard that they had visited seventy-four beer halls, drunk ninety-two bottles of beer, and many other things that would make me blush. I fell back a bit. Again, free Ottomans were coming behind me. And their words, like themselves, were reaching my ears.
“Morning is coming, man…”
“This is freedom… Sleep during the day, pleasure at night…”
“Hey, money…”
“God is generous!”
They too passed by me. And when I saw them enter the tripe shop of the Egypt Hotel, I remembered that I was hungry. I went in too. After drinking the soup, as I was leaving, I put my hand in my pocket. I could only find a quarter lira. And the tripe seller was asking for six kuruş. He claimed he had broken four extra eggs into it…
“What shall I do, what shall I do?” I scratched my head. There was no bargaining. Besides, causing unpleasantness during this national celebration, bringing back the police whose bodies had become invisible—would that befit a virtuous, alert, learned, and writer young man like me? Even though I knew it was wrong, I cannot deny the usefulness of lying. A philosopher whose name I can’t remember says, “If there were no lies, the world would not turn, it would collapse and disappear.” I raised my eyebrows. “Oh no!” I cried, “I’ve dropped my wallet…”
And I immediately added: “There were seven English, nine French, eleven Ottoman, even one Moroccan lira in it. It was under my seal.”
None of the free Ottomans calculating their bills at the counter mourned the loss of their free brother.
“Don’t worry, sir, I’ll give you your money now,” I was saying, promising that whoever found my wallet could keep everything except the Moroccan lira as a gift. Everyone was nodding their heads, even the most attentive listener was smiling. Only the tripe seller got excited about the loss of my wallet. “I hope you find it,” he said. “But if you don’t have any other money on you now, leave me something as collateral.”
I had on me a coin purse I had bought five years ago for two kuruş. Also a pencil, two sheets of French “Essai sur l’embriologie”; I handed over these papers.
“Here’s a collateral for you!” I said. “It’s worth more than a lira.”
The master looked into my eyes. “Are you joking?” he asked. And pointing to the pile of large Greek newspapers heaped in the corner, he added: “If paper were worth money, we would close our shops. Here’s ten okka of paper for you, bring five kuruş, take it all and go.”
The matter got complicated. Those who had finished their soup were coming to the counter. Some of them, looking at me with suspicious eyes, were grumbling, “Shame, shame!” Up and down, as if I didn’t know and was finding it by chance, I took out the quarter lira in my pocket, and for the remaining one kuruş, I left my vest. I threw myself out the door. I felt a pain inside. My self-respect was hurt. Would a man’s jacket be taken off, his vest taken from behind for one kuruş? I wish I hadn’t quit smoking! If I hadn’t quit smoking, this disaster wouldn’t have happened to me, because I wouldn’t have lost my nickel silver cigarette case either, and in a difficult position, I would have used it as collateral for one kuruş. After all, a man should carry something valuable on him. This was almost a necessary obligation. But learned people like me, who spend their lives in scholarly pursuit and research, cannot devote their minds to such useless things. Even a great philosopher like Spencer certainly wouldn’t carry anything silver on him. He wrote books openly for everyone to understand the great truth. After writing for fifteen years, he lost more than thirty thousand francs, that is, more than fifteen hundred liras. Still, he didn’t give up. He even refused the rewards and ranks given to him. When he was appointed a member of the Paris Academy of Moral and Political Sciences in 1882, with a natural young Ottoman patriotism, he said he could not enter any foreign institution. His friends and readers who loved him in America, thinking of this philosopher’s poverty and hunger, collected about forty thousand francs among themselves and sent it with a gold watch. Spencer took the watch and sent the money back. Then he also returned the rank given to him by Queen Victoria and the medal of the German Emperor. I was passing through the streets leading to Hacı Seymen Inn, where I slept in a nice little room. The crowd had spilled into these areas too. Whether I wanted to or not, I was saying, “Really, this Spencer was a bit foolish…” and I decided not to resemble him, no matter how great he was.
Why should one hate money and benefit so much in life? If this foolishness is necessary for science, I would tear up all my notes on embryology and throw them into the square, shouting, “I’m ignorant, man, I’m ignorant too!” However, look, freedom has been declared. This was not done by this or that person, Niyazi and Enver, whose names were echoed by telegraphs throughout the world. The people did it. The public awoke. The awakened Ottomans did it. Naturally, now they will give great value to youth, science, learning, especially to embryology, and they will carry scholars like us on their hands all the time, as they did to me this evening, they will grant rewards, money, salaries. And an academy will be opened… As a specialist in embryology, I would definitely be one of the first members. I was thinking about where I could find money tomorrow, along with all these thoughts. These were our last days of poverty! Tomorrow, when I enter the paradise of fame thanks to the Constitutional Government and Freedom, how would I remember my sad past of destitution and poverty, how would I embellish the vest incident of an hour ago when writing my memoirs?
I came to the door of the inn. Strange! The innkeeper Mesut was waiting for me. “Hey, freedom, hey… Look, the value of science and the scholar is beginning to be recognized,” I soured my face. Mesut was a short, thick, dark-browed, surly, and grumpy fellow.
“I was waiting for you,” he said, “where did you put out the lantern?…”
“Alas, poor man,” I swelled up, “I didn’t put out a lantern. On the contrary, I lit thousands and thousands of lights of freedom.”
“What did you do, what did you do?”
“Didn’t you understand what I said?”
“Nooo…”
“Why?”
“You’re not speaking Turkish, father, you keep spouting vocabulary.”
“This is Ottoman, the scientific language. It can’t be said in your Turkish.”
“Then shut up, don’t say anything at all…”
He made a terrible face. He turned his eyes away. I translated my words into Turkish so as not to offend my dear citizen.
“Look what I’m saying: I didn’t put out any lantern or anything. On the contrary, I ignited hundreds of thousands of lights of freedom in thousands of thoughtless heads.”
“So then why did you come here?”
“To sleep…”
“I put two customers in your room.”
I was going to get angry. However, I owed two months’ rent. Now, if Mesut were a bit smart and open-minded, would he treat a scholar like me, who had come to the threshold of fame, reputation, and glory, in such a foolish way? I wanted to turn to philosophy.
“Never mind, no harm. If it were another ignorant man, he would be angry at what you did…”
“I can’t get angry at the ignorant… but if I get my hands on someone without money, I’ll know his mother…”
Involuntarily, my mouth opened with a “Yaaaa…” It was becoming day. Sleep was flowing from my eyes. My feet were trembling. Was this rude man trying to throw a stone, to rub my poverty in my face? I played it cool again. It was shameful for philosophers to deal with the common people. Smiling, I said, “I’m very sleepy, at least show me another bed so I can nap for an hour or two.”
“I don’t have any empty beds.”
“Hey, what shall I do now?”
“How should I know what you’ll do?”
I couldn’t stand the fellow’s rudeness anymore. I said I wouldn’t pay my two months’ debt. As a response, he told me that he had seized all my belongings, my bed, my books… I wanted to grab his throat. But it was now a Constitutional Government… Such a savage and barbaric action coming from me could truly be a stain on youth, the Constitutional Government, science, and humanity. Ah, how I clenched my teeth to restrain myself. It made a “crack” sound as it ground. The third tooth from the right on my upper row broke! I was frightened by the horror of my rage. I started running away again toward the street. Mesut was hurling curses after me.
I entered the reading room of Salepçibaşı Inn. There was no one there yet. I placed my head nicely on the marble of the table, resting on my arms. My ears were ringing, my head was aching.
Yes, I had to go to Istanbul. Fame, reputation, and glory were waiting for me there.
Ömer Seyfettin
