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| The first of five in the series, image from here |
"Yashim arrived early at the little restaurant beneath Galata Point and chose a quiet alcove that overlooked the channel of the Bosphorus. The Bosphorus had made Istanbul what it was: the junction of Europe and Asia, the pathway from the Black Sea into the Mediterranean, the great entrepot of world trade from ancient times to the present day. From where he sat he could watch the waterway he loved so much, the narrow sheet of gunmetal that reflected back the shape of the city it had built."
- The Janissary Tree, p. 45
The Sum of It:
Having read all five of Jason Goodwin's Investigator Yashim, the Ottoman Detective books over the last month, it's obvi a bit difficult to summarize them all! You see the first one, The Janissary Tree, at the top of this post, but the others are also great: The Snake Stone, The Bellini Card, An Evil Eye, and The Baklava Club. The author studied Byzantine history at Cambridge, and through these books brings his vast knowledge of the past in this unique and gorgeous part of the world to bear along with his personal observations of Istanbul and its surrounding environs. This is easily the most captivating feature of the series. I've never visited Turkey, or Greece (much to my chagrin) but each of these books paints such a clear and detailed picture of the architecture of palaces, tenaments, mosques, Turkish baths, and cathedrals of the cities at the mouth of the Golden Horn, not to mention the bazaars, coffee shops, and scenes along the river, that I can picture it all so clearly I feel an almost startling sense of familiarity when I run across a photograph of Istanbul in a magazine or on Instagram.
Each of the books in the series feature a eunuch named Yashim who works for the Ottoman Sultan as a bit of an investigative jack-of-all-trades in the mid- to late-19th century. One of the girls in the harem is found strangled? Call in Yashim. A dead soldier found in a giant tin pot? Yashim gets woken up in the night to check it out. The young Sultan wants to track down a portrait of one of his illustrious ancestors across the water in Venice? Yashim better figure out what to do. Along the way, we get to know some of his best friends in the city who help him out of scrapes, tell him stories, and eat dinner with him (more on that in a bit #YUM): the last Polish ambassador in the world, Palewski, a retired transvestite dancer, Preen, a Greek farmer and produce dealer, George, and a range of beautiful ladies who swoon at Yashim's feet (that part of the stories is always a bit silly, but kind of adorbs). In the third book, The Bellini Card, Yashim hands the reigns of mystery solving and carrying the narrative over to his pal Palewski for most of the book, which was kind of tricky to get used to for a while, but came together nicely in the end amid gorgeous scenes of fencing matches with penniless Venetian royalty in crumbling ballrooms and journeys through the canals of the water-bound city.
What initially drew me to these books in the first place goes back to Yashim making dinner for his friends. I first heard about them a few months ago in a story Mary Louise Kelly did on NPR's Morning Edition about a recently released cookbook called Yashim Cooks Istanbul. She shared her delight in the twisty and clever mystery/thrillers as well as excerpts of the beautifully written text and most of all, the loving depictions of Mediterranean food throughout these books, for Yashim loves to cook. He finds it pleasurable and meditative, it helps him sort his thoughts and provides him a way to clear his head. And boy, if book writing doesn't work out for Jason Goodwin, I'd like to recommend a career as a food critic, because the descriptions of each meal leave me drooling. For example:
"The rice had gone clear, so he threw in a handful of currants and another of pine nuts, a lump of sugar, and a big pinch of salt. He took down a jar from the shelf and helped himself to a spoonful of oily tomato paste, which he mixed into a tea glass of water. He drained the glass into the rice, with a hiss and a plume of steam. He added a pinch of dried mint and ground some pepper into the pot and stirred the rice, then clamped on a lid and moved the pot to the back of the stove." (The Janissary Tree, p. 16)
I MEAN, I'll have what he's having. This happens all over all these books, and it is truly gorgeous. After I heard the NPR story, I knew I was going to have to read these books and get to know Istanbul and its cuisine a bit better.
The YOA Treatment:
I have been recommending these books to everyone I meet, basically, because I think they're so special. The Janissary Tree is probably my favorite non-Agatha read in at least a year. Perhaps its having spent a year of reading mostly about the English countryside, which for all its delights, does not tend to pull on one's appetites. While the mysteries are often good, particularly in the first book (the absolute best of the bunch, in my opinion, and very nearly perfect), it's probably not surprising that what I love most about these books is how they provide a unique way to get to know a city across the globe, and across time. The scenes and characters are beautifully drawn, and immerse you in Yashim's world in a truly glorious way.
Though these books are set in the past, there's nothing musty about the settings or the stories. Yashim and his friends seem like fascinating people you'd like to have in your life, which is one reason I was so sad when I realized there were only five of these books! The author weaves intricate historical detail about politics, religious customs, and even the Byzantine system for transporting water across the city of Istanbul into these stories with an expert hand so that every piece of information feels sparkling and vital. While the intrigue and eagerness for Yashim to solve the crimes certainly keeps the pace up, the joy of learning about this unique place and point in time is just as compelling.
Now to fetch the cookbook and try my hand at some of Yashim's mouthwatering recipes!
- E.
