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'Architect's Apprentice' a Detailed but Imperfect Construction

“The Architect's Apprentice” by Elif Şafak (Viking)

By Ben G. Cort, Crimson Staff Writer

Elif Şafak's most recent novel, "The Architect's Apprentice", is a vivid account of the work of famous Ottoman architect Mimar Sinan that stumbles occasionally in its attempt to do more than paint a picture. Unlike some of Şafak's previous work, "The Architect's Apprentice" is less a social commentary and more a straight story, detailing the life of a young boy, Jahan, as he learns to make his way in the palace, first as an elephant tamer and then as an architect under Sinan's instruction. Şafak's attention to detail is impeccable, and her cast and setting positively leap off of the page. However, the actual plot suffers from pages-long doldrums and poor pacing, and the passage of time is not always reflected believably on her characters, making the middling pages of the book tedious at times.

Where Şafak succeeds is in her realistic and engaging depiction of old Istanbul. Jahan arrives in the city by boat at the age of 12, fleeing from his abusive stepfather. Here he bonds and feuds with the other members of the palace, falls desperately in love with the princess, and becomes apprenticed to the Chief Royal Architect, Master Sinan. Şafak fills the halls of the palace and streets of the city with vibrant characters, from an enigmatic gypsy king who befriends Jahan to the shrewd nursemaid who cares for the princess. But this is also the greatest shortcoming of the book: many of the characters feel as if they are there simply as colorful backdrops that do not invite emotional investment and take too much of the novel to begin developing into fully-fledged people.

The book suffers from serious issues with pacing and development. The story takes place across over 90 years of Jahan's life, and the plot does not truly become interesting until the last handful of admittedly gripping pages. Sinan and his apprentices design and construct building after building for sultan after sultan, with a mysterious threat of a saboteur looming just a little too far off page to be interesting. Some stories, such as Jahan's struggle with a villainous blackmailing captain, are simply dropped by the wayside without any satisfying conflict or resolution.

Jahan himself spends most of the book feeling like he is still a little boy at the age of 12, even when he is meant to be in the middle years of his life. Mentions of his age come as a bit of a shock because the passage of time is often only subtly implied but not directly stated. As a result, the identity of “Jahan” conveyed by the novel and the “Jahan” which the novel presents on the page may seem at odds. His work as an architect often seems forced, as his training and skill are implied but never shown. The story of his relationship with the princess is familiar, if not quite believable, because it is again only implied that there is indeed a relationship there and no real account is given of its genesis. Generally the novel and character arcs are not difficult to follow, as the book progresses mostly as one would assume. But they never quite feel real enough, which belies the rock-solid foundation of the setting.

Jahan’s struggles are, however, well-highlighted by his relationship with his elephant, Chota, in whom he finds the warmth and companionship lacking in other humans. Observing Chota, Jahan “could not help but think if human beings could only live more like animals...this world would be a more peaceful place, and perhaps a happier one.” Interestingly enough, Chota is one of the novel’s most engaging characters. The bond that he shares with Jahan feels quite familiar and very boy-and-his-dog. When Jahan is forced to march Chota to war and struggles with his revulsion at his best friend’s discovered bloodlust or the two find comfort in each other's company after a particularly difficult turn of events, "The Architect's Apprentice" is at its most poignant and beautiful.

The book is also commendable for its powerful thematic treatment of how construction relates to destruction, in both buildings and in life. Through Master Sinan, Jahan learns that hate, jealousy, and pride will destroy, but love for God and for each other can create wonders. “Destroying a bridge was easier than building it,” Jahan reflects, watching his master. The same holds true for reputation. Sultans and viziers rise and fall around Jahan at a dizzy pace. Years of maneuvering for power can be stripped away by a single mistake rooted in selfishness and greed, a reality that looms deadly over Jahan in the book's stunning finale.

"The Architect's Apprentice" is a carefully researched window into an ancient and fascinating world decorated with incredible care and filled with quirky, interesting characters. The fast-paced finale eases the frustration and repetition often found within the middle chapters, but it remains that several hundred pages of the book are distinctly unremarkable. The themes are obvious and immense, but do not beget much discussion. For these reasons, "The Architect's Apprentice" is a pleasure to read, but not a novel that stays with one for long.

—Staff writer Ben G. Cort can be reached at ben.cort@thecrimson.com.

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