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Allegorical Lives: The Public and the Private in the Modern Turkish Novel

Allegorical Lives: The Public and the Private in the Modern Turkish Novel The South Atlantic Quarterly :/, Spring/Summer . Copyright ©  by Duke University Press. are a series of cloaked men with green faces. They, too, are motionless. But I am certain that right after I present my dissertation they will come to life. . . . Their green faces will go from pink to white as they cheer ‘‘Viva! Viva!’’ Atatürk will then kiss me on the forehead, I tell myself. He will point with the index finger of his right hand and just as he had said ‘‘Armies! Your first destination is the Mediterranean. Advance!’’ he will say: ‘‘Turkish nation! Your destination is to follow the road that this woman shows, advance!’’ . . . But, just as I am standing there before Atatürk and the other old professors, I find myself at ten years of age. . . . I worry about my outfit for they might think of me as a little coquette. . . . Lame, I try to run here and there. Dragging my lameness, I try to find something. At that moment, the head of the fox fur collar hanging around my neck comes to life. The mouth of the fox keeps http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png South Atlantic Quarterly Duke University Press

Allegorical Lives: The Public and the Private in the Modern Turkish Novel

South Atlantic Quarterly , Volume 102 (2-3) – Apr 1, 2003

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Publisher
Duke University Press
Copyright
Copyright 2003 by Duke University Press
ISSN
0038-2876
eISSN
1527-8026
DOI
10.1215/00382876-102-2-3-551
Publisher site
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

The South Atlantic Quarterly :/, Spring/Summer . Copyright ©  by Duke University Press. are a series of cloaked men with green faces. They, too, are motionless. But I am certain that right after I present my dissertation they will come to life. . . . Their green faces will go from pink to white as they cheer ‘‘Viva! Viva!’’ Atatürk will then kiss me on the forehead, I tell myself. He will point with the index finger of his right hand and just as he had said ‘‘Armies! Your first destination is the Mediterranean. Advance!’’ he will say: ‘‘Turkish nation! Your destination is to follow the road that this woman shows, advance!’’ . . . But, just as I am standing there before Atatürk and the other old professors, I find myself at ten years of age. . . . I worry about my outfit for they might think of me as a little coquette. . . . Lame, I try to run here and there. Dragging my lameness, I try to find something. At that moment, the head of the fox fur collar hanging around my neck comes to life. The mouth of the fox keeps

Journal

South Atlantic QuarterlyDuke University Press

Published: Apr 1, 2003

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