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The White Castle is, like The New Life, not seeming a page-turner to me in the way that Snow and My Name is Red both did. As I read it I am encountering some very interesting bits -- like this evening I was feeling some kinship with Hoja over the question of how narrating one's experiences can communicate one's inner self -- but I do not feel invested in the characters in a way that would make me need to know what is going to happen next.
posted evening of Wednesday, January 23rd, 2008 ➳ More posts about The White Castle ➳ More posts about Orhan Pamuk ➳ More posts about Readings
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