mercilessly needled our mon enemies； and after I really warmed up； I went
so far as to roughhouse and kiss men on the neck。 Yet； knowing that a part of
my soul remained mercilessly silent when I involved myself in such behavior
caused me unbearable torment。
Noheless； before long； I not only succeeded in using figurative language
to pare my own cock； and those of others that were much…talked about； to
brushes； reeds； coffeehouse pillars； flutes； newel posts； door knockers； leeks；
minarets； lady fingers in heavy syrup； pine trees； and twice； to the world itself；
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I was equally successful in paring the asses of much…discussed pretty boys
to oranges； figs； small haycocklike pastries； pillows and also to tiny anthills。
Meanwhile； the most conceited of the calligraphers my age was only able to
pare his oateurishly and without any self…confidence I
might add—to a ship’s mast and a porter’s pole。 Furthermore； I made
allusions to old miniaturists’ dicks that would no longer rise； the cherry…
colored lips of new apprentices； master calligraphers who hoarded their
money （as did I） in a certain place （“the most disgusting nook”）； how perhaps
opium had been put into the wine I was drinking instead of rose petals； the
last great masters of Tabriz and Shiraz； the mixing of coffee and wine in
Aleppo； and the calligraphers and beautiful boys to be found there。
At times it seemed that one of the two spirits within me had； in the end；
emerged victorious； leaving the other behind； and that I’d finally forgotten
that silent and loveless aspect of myself。 At these times I remembered the
holiday celebrations of my childhood during which I was able to be myself
along with my kith and kin。 Despite all these jokes； kisses and embraces； there
was still a silence within me that left me suffering and isolated in the heart of
the crowd。
Who had endowed me with this silent and merciless spirit—it was not a
spirit but a jinn—which always chided me and cut me off from others？ Satan？
But the silence within me was eased； not by the crass mischief instigated by
Satan； on the contrary； by the most pure and simple stories that drove into
one’s soul。 Under the influence of wine； I told two stories； hoping that this
would grant me peace。 A tall； pale； yet pinkish…plected calligrapher’s
apprentice focused his green eyes onto mine and was listening to me with rapt
attention。
Two Stories on Blindness and Style
the Miniaturist Told to Ease the Loneliness in His Soul
ALIF
Contrary to what is assumed； making drawings of horses by looking at actual
horses wasn’t a discovery of European masters。 The original idea belonged to
the great master Jemalettin of Kazvin。 After Tall Hasan； the Khan of the
Whitesheep； conquered Kazvin； the old master Jemalettin was not content to
simply join the book…arts workshop of the victorious khan； instead he headed
out on campaign with him； claiming that he wanted to embellish the khan’s
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History with scenes of war he’d witnessed himself。 So this great master； who
for sixty…two years had made pictures of horses； cavalry charges and battles
without ever having seen a battle； went to war for the first time。 But before he
could even see the thunderous and violent clash of sweating horses； he lost his
hands and his eyesight to enemy cannon…fire。 The old master； like all genuine
virtuosos； had in any case been awaiting blindness as though it were Allah’s
blessing； and neither did he treat the loss of his hands as a great deficiency。 He
maintained that the memory of a miniaturist was located not in the hand； as
some insisted； but in the intellect and the heart； and furthermore； now that he
was blind； he declared that he could see the true pictures； scenery and essential
and flawless horses that Allah manded be seen。 To share these wonders
with lovers of art； he hired a tall； pale…skinned； pink…plected； green…eyed
calligrapher’s apprentice to whom he dictated exactly how to draw the
marvelous horses that appeared to him in God’s divine darkness—as he
would’ve drawn them had he been able to hold a brush in his hands。 After the
master’s death； his account of how to draw 303 horses beginning from the left
foreleg was collected by the handsome calligrapher’s apprentice into three
volumes respectively entitled The Depiction of Horses； The Flow of Horses and The
Love of Horses； which were quite widely liked and sought after for a time in the
regions where the Whitesheep ruled。 Though they appeared in a variety of new
editions and copies； were memorized by illustrators； apprentices and their
students and were used as practice books； after Tall Hasan’s Whitesheep
nation was obliterated and the Herat style of illustration overtook all of Persia；
Jemalettin and his manuscripts were forgotten。 Doubtless； the logic behind
Kemalettin R？za of Herat’s violent criticism of these three volumes in his book
The Blindman’s Horses； and his conclusion that they ought to be burned； had
figured in this turn of events。 Kemalettin R？za claimed that none of the horses
described by Jemalettin of Kazvin in his three volumes could be a horse of
God’s vision—because none of them were “immaculate；” since the old master
had described them after he’d witnessed an actual battle scene； no matter
how briefly。 Since the treasures of Tall Hasan of the Whitesheep had been
plundered by Sultan Mehmet the Conqueror and brought to Istanbul； it
should e as no surprise that occasionally certain of these 303 stories
appear in other manuscripts in Istanbul and even that some horses are drawn
as instructed therein。
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LAM
In Herat and Shiraz； when a master miniaturist nearing the end of his days
went blind from a lifetime of excessive labor； it would not only be taken as a
sign of that master’s determination； but would be mended as God’s
acknowledgment of the great master’s work and talent。 There was even a time
in Herat when masters who hadn’t gone blind despite having grown old were
regarded with suspicion； a situation that pelled quite a few of them to
actually induce blindness in their old age。 There was a long period during
which men reverently recalled artists who blinded themselves； following in the
path of those legendary masters who’d done so rather than work for another
monarch or change their styles。 And it was during this age that Abu Said；
Tamerlane’s grandson from the Miran Shah line of descent； introduced a
further twist in his workshop after he’d conquered Tashkent and Samarkand：
The practice of paying greater homage to the imitation of blindness than to
blindness itself。 Black Veli； the old artisan who inspired Abu Said； had
confirmed that a blind miniaturist could see the horses of God’s vision from
within the darkness； however； true talent resided in a sighted miniaturist who
could regard the world like a blind man。 At the age of sixty…seven he proved his
point by dashing off a horse that came to the tip of his brush without so
much as a glance at the paper； even as his eyes remained all the while open
and fixed on the page。 At the end of this artistic ceremony for which Miran
Shah had deaf musicians play lutes and mute storytellers recite stories to
support the legendary master’s efforts； the splendid horse that Black Veli had
drawn was pared at length with other horses he’d made： There was no
difference whatsoever among them； much to Miran Shah’s irritation；
thereafter； the legendary master declared that a miniaturist possessed of
talent； regardless of whether his eyes are open or closed； will always and only
see horses in one way； that is； the way that Allah perceives them。 And among
great master miniaturists； there is no difference between the blind and the
sighted： The hand would always draw the same horse because there was as yet
no such thing as the Frankish innovation called “style。” The horses made by
the great master Black Veli have been imitated by all Muslim miniaturists for
110 years。 As for Black Veli himself； after the defeat of Abu Said and the
dispersal of his workshop； he moved from Samarkand to Kazvin； where two
years later he was condemned for his spiteful attempts to refute the verse in
the Glorious Koran that declares； “The blind and the seeing are not equal。” For
this； he was first blinded； then killed by young Nizam Shah’s soldiers。
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I was on the verge of telling a third story； describing to the pretty…eyed
calligrapher’s apprentice how the great master Bihzad had blinded himself；
how he never wanted to leave Herat； why he never painted again after being
taken forcibly to Tabriz； how a miniaturist’s style was really the style of the
workshop in which he worked and other tales I’d heard from Master Osman；
but I became preoccupied with the storyteller。 How had I known that he was
going to tell Satan’s story tonight？
I had the urge to say； “It was Satan who first said ”I‘！ It was Satan who
adopted a style。 It was Satan who separated East from West。“
I closed my eyes and drew Satan on the storyteller’s rough sheet of paper as
my heart desired。 As I drew； the storyteller and his assistant； other artists and
curious onlookers giggled and goaded me on。
Pray； do you think I have my own style； or do I owe it to the wine？
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I； SATAN
I am fond of the smell of red peppers frying in olive oil； rain falling into a calm
sea at dawn； the unexpected appearance of a woman at an open window；
silences； thought and patience。 I believe in myself； and； most of the time； pay
no mind to what’s been said about me。 Tonight； however； I’ve e to this
coffeehouse to set my miniaturist and calligrapher brethren straight about
certain gossip； lies and rumors。
Of course； because I’m the one speaking； you’re already prepared to believe
the exact opposite of what I say。 But you’re smart enough to sense that the
opposite of what I say is not always true； and though you might doubt me；
you’re astute enough to take an interest in my words： You’re well aware that
my name； which appears in the Glorious Koran fifty…two times； is one of the
most frequently cited。
All right then； let me begin with God’s book； the Glorious Koran。
Everything about me in there is the truth。 Let it be known that when I say this；
I do so with the utmost humility。 For there’s also the issue of style。 It has
always caused m