There have been profound changes in the world over the past 100 years --a time span that amounts to just four generations. "Seven Houses," a beautifully written novel by Alev Lytle Croutier, examines these immense changes, both the cultural losses and the political gains, that impact the lives of four generations of Turkish women.
The story hearkens back to the days of the Ottoman Empire, before the nation of Turkey even existed. Esma, a young widow, is desperately in love with Suleyman, an army officer, yet must conceal such impropriety for fear of being stoned. Unable to hold back forever, their last passionate encounter ends in Esma's pregnancy. To save Esma's dignity and perhaps her life, Esma's sister takes in the beautiful child, Aida. Esma never quite recovers from the loss and must watch from afar as the gorgeous Aida grows older.
Rumored to be the most beautiful woman in Turkey, Aida captures the attentions of the leader himself, Ataturk, who proclaims, "You are the symbol of a modern world, a model for all its women! The vision of a new nation!" Aida soon finds out, however, that beauty cannot save her from life's misfortunes.
Meanwhile, Esma's granddaughter, Amber, is just beginning to discover life. More than anything, she loves visiting her granduncle Iskender's silk plantation. Complications arise, and an era ends -- the plantation is sold, forcing the family to leave behind their customs for a new, westernized lifestyle. Ostracized from her family, Amber leaves Turkey, not to return until a generation later with her own daughter Nellie in tow. Hence, the fourth generation.
Croutier's prose is poetic in nature, even dream-like. Her lyrical paragraphs evoke a very sensual atmosphere, especially early in the novel. Both Smyrna (Esma's house) and the silk plantation are inextricably tied to the exotic realm of bathhouses, opium and silk making.
Unfortunately, this magic is lost as the novel progresses. As the synthetic Western world encroaches on the family's rich cultural traditions, the novel, like the family itself, loses part of its soul. Only visits to what seem to be relics of the past -- the burned down silk plantation, the lush garden of Amber's Greek grandmother or a gaudily vibrant tenement amid a sea of gray concrete -- can restore traces of an earlier, fantastic environment.
The novel is told from the distinct perspectives of the seven houses that the family inhabits, and this realization is rather jarring. The plot device is odd and rather unnatural. One will be lost in a stretch of evocative prose only to have the mood broken by a house's first-person observation. Hearing the voice of a house is more than a little odd.
That is not to say that houses do not play a pivotal role in the novel. One really gets a sense of deep time from the historic houses that the family inhabits. Births, deaths and everything in between are contained within the voyeuristic walls of the houses, creating a living environment with strong ties to the supernatural. Spirits of those who have come before seem to shape the lives of the living.
This overt linkage of realms sets the stage for a particularly effective scene in the garden of Malika, Amber's Greek grandmother. Reading the encounter is like experiencing a fever dream -- it is surreal and intense, yet things aren't quite right.
"At the entrance to the garden, they noticed freshly picked crisp white gardenias, unblemished yet voluptuous in their amorous prime
Then she sensed it. The silent, almost subliminal movement underneath the petals, drawing tiny ripples in the water. Not the air, nor the breeze. Another life stirred underneath, forcing itself out, as the unconscious, black, spindly locomotion of the mosquito larvae struggled to become parasites."
Appearances, the passage seems to say in its disturbing voice, are often deceiving. And throughout the novel, a cultural emphasis on beauty is seen as similarly flawed. "Beauty held the reins of power," believes Aida's family, and as a result, Aida (and many other women at the time, no doubt) sees her beauty as her sole source of self worth. By the end of the novel, this dangerous outlook proves to be her downfall.
So many changes occur so quickly in the novel, yet this is the nature of the 20th century. Iskender himself falls prey to the swift advance of time. "Too much of an old silkworm to make the adjustments to a chameleon world that had left him behind in an oasis of loneliness he, in turn, had abandoned the world that could not remember its past nor recognize its own reflection in the mirror."
At times, however, Croutier herself cannot keep up with changes in attitude. The dialogue of Amber's teenage daughter Nellie seems quite stilted and unrealistic -- Croutier has a specific idea of the mannerisms of teenage speech, but her ideas are at times laughably inaccurate. It is hard to accept the juxtaposition of lyrical descriptions with modern dialogue. Though this may be a commentary on the cultural losses sustained by the family and of Nellie's alienation in the land of her heritage, the method is rather distracting.
Despite whatever flaws it may have, however, Croutier's novel works beautifully for the most part. The novel is lavish while still being intimate, and is reminiscent yet frank. Spending time in these "Seven Houses" is both sensory overload and pleasant indulgence
Read More
Va. Senate Democrats sue Rector Hardie, others over Youngkin appointees
By Nina Broderick | 2 days agoThe lawsuit is the Democrats’ next step in the political standoff regarding the legitimacy of the Senate Privileges and Elections Committee’s vote to deny eight of Gov. Glenn Youngkin’s appointees to university boards June 10.
From the Archives: Pride Month
By Clara Franklin | 4 days agoThe Day of Silence Project, founded in 1996, encouraged students to remain silent for a day to protest the silence surrounding LGBTQ+ issues and to raise awareness about homophobia.
Students share their experiences with the subleasing process in Charlottesville
By Nina Broderick | 4 days agoA sublease agreement involves adding a new tenant to the lease, which provides the original tenant a way to cover costs while away, and the subtenant an opportunity for housing without the year-long commitment.
