who; along with his teacher; had taken Strange Creatures seriously; and drown
him or leave him to describe in glowing terms the only horse picture he’d ever
seen in his life—in who knows how poor a manuscript copy。 I came up with a
third alternative; and that was to drop my spoon and quit the shop。 After
walking for a long while I entered the abandoned dervish lodge; where I was
overe with a sense of peace。 I tidied up and without doing anything else; I
listened to the silence。
307
Later; I removed the mirror from where I kept it hidden and set it upon the
low worktable。 Next; I placed the two…page illustration and the drawing board
on my lap。 When I could see my face in the mirror from where I sat; I
attempted to draw my portrait in charcoal。 I drew for a long time; patiently。
Much later; when I saw that once again the face on the page didn’t resemble
my face in the mirror; I was filled with such misery that tears welled in my
eyes。 How did the Veian painters that Enishte described with such flourish
do it? I then imagined myself to be one of them; thinking that if I illustrated in
that state of mind; I could perhaps make a convincing self…portrait。
Later still; I cursed the European painters and Enishte both; erased what I’d
done and began looking into the mirror anew to begin another drawing。
Ultimately; I found myself wandering the streets again; and then; here; at
this despicable coffeehouse。 I wasn’t even sure how I happened to e here。
As I entered; I felt such embarrassment about mingling with these miserable
miniaturists and calligraphers that sweat accumulated on my forehead。
I sensed that they were watching me; alerting each other of my presence
with their elbows; and laughing—all right; I could plainly see them doing it。 I
seated myself in the corner; trying to behave naturally。 At the same time my
eyes sought the other masters; my dear brethren with whom; at one time; I’d
served as Master Osman’s apprentice。 I was certain each of them was also
asked to draw a horse this evening and that they’d each expended great
desperate efforts; taking the contest arranged by these idiots quite seriously。
The storyteller effendi hadn’t yet begun his performance。 The picture
hadn’t even been hung up yet。 I was forced to socialize with the coffeehouse
crowd。
So be it then; let me be frank with you: Like everyone else I; too; made
jokes; told indecent stories; kissed my panions on the cheeks with
exaggerated gestures; spoke in double entendres; innuendos and puns; asked
how the young assistant masters were doing; and like everybody else;
mercilessly needled our mon enemies; and after I really warmed up; I went
so far as to roughhouse and kiss men on the nec