“The Secret Shrine” and “The Frog Prayer”
“The Secret Shrine” and “The Frog Prayer”
by Ömer Seyfettin
THE LITRARY WORK
Two short stories, the first set in an Istanbul suburb arid the second in a small town not far from Istanbul, both in the 1910s; published in Turkish (as “Gizli Mabet” and “Boş inançlar: kurbada duasy”) in 1919 and 1920, in English in 1978.
SYNOPSIS
In both stories, one’s preconceptions and prejudices result in strange and humorous misperceptions in “The Secret Shrine,” the misperceptions arise from a foreigner’s prejudices about Turkey; in “The Frog Prayer,” from a misplaced belief in a teacher’s spell.
Events in History at the Time the Short Stories Take Place
Ömer Seyfettin was born in Gönen (now in Turkey) in 1884. He was educated at the Ottoman Military Academy and served two separate terms of duty in the military. The first was in 1909, when he was part of the army that suppressed the Irtica, a rebellion by religious groups against the newly reinstated constitutional order. The second was at the start of the Balkan War, during which he spent approximately one year (1912–13) as a prisoner of war in Greece. In 1914 Seyfettin accepted a position teaching literature at a high school in Istanbul; he died of diabetes only a few years later in 1920 at the early age of 36. By this time, he had written a number of works, including a novel and more than a dozen short stories, although not all were published by the time of his death. When Seyfettin resigned his first military post in 1911, he devoted his time to writing. Along with Ziya Gökalp and Ali Canip Yontem, Seyfettin began publishing “Young Pens” (Genç Kalemler), a journal that is generally credited with starting the movement toward a Turkish national literature. Authors who considered themselves members of this movement, which flourished between 1911 and 1923, wrote about topics significant to Muslim Turks and their national values. They tended to favor a simpler, more concise form of Turkish than their predecessors, with fewer Persian and Arabic words and grammatical constructions. These new authors were credited with fostering an awareness and appreciation of Turkish language and culture among Turkish citizens, a theme that is critical in several of Seyfettin’s works. He became a transitional writer, combining Turkish themes with the realist short-story method of the West to create some of the first modern Turkish short stories. In “The Secret Shrine” and “The Frog Prayer,” Seyfettin examines such issues as Turkey’s attempts to westernize and modernize, and the appropriate role of religion in Turkish society.
Events in History at the Time the Short Stories Take Place
The Young Turks
In the summer of 1908, officers of the Ottoman Second and Third Armies revolted against the authoritarian rule of Sultan Abdülhamid, and demanded that the Constitution of 1876 be reinstated. Known as The Young Turks, these revolutionaries were all members of a political group called the Committee of Union and Progress (CUP; Ittihat ve Terakki Cemiyeti). Formed in 1889 in France by Ottoman émigrés, the group opposed the sultan’s despotic tendencies, which included the dismissal of parliament and the suspension of the Ottoman constitution. Although the CUP decided to allow the sultan to remain in power, it was clear that behind the scenes, the Young Turks exercised the true political power. In addition to the reinstatement of the constitution, elections were ordered, and a myriad of other reforms undertaken. These included the reform of the educational system and the elimination of censorship of the media. As Feroz Ahmad describes the change, “A society which had been closed to the outside was suddenly thrown open, at least in cities and towns.… The Young Turks experimented with virtually every sphere of life; hardly anything was left untouched. They not only changed the political system but they also attempted to refashion society by borrowing more freely from the West than ever before” (Ahmad, p. 31).
It was the issue of “borrowing” from the West in order to modernize that caused one of the biggest rifts not only within the CUP itself, but also in society at large. The question of westernization was a burning issue during the period after the revolution, as the Turkish people had come to what one scholar called “a crisis of culture,” and even “a crisis of civilization” (Lewis, p. 234). The two general positions found in Turkish literature during the Young Turk period were the “Islamists and the Westernizers, with a wide range of compromise and confusion between them” (Lewis, p. 234). Basically, Islamists were those who felt that the future of the Ottoman Empire depended upon strengthening the place of religion in society. In addition to fundamentalist sects, there were also moderate Islamists who argued that the Islamic religion could benefit from some reform. What all Islamists had in common, however, was the view that there was nothing to be gained from looking to the West for direction in social, political, legal, and economic matters.
Opposing this view were those who favored using the West’s achievements as a yardstick of Ottoman success. A moderate sect within this camp argued that only certain (i.e., technical) aspects of Western achievements be imported. Intransigents argued against this piecemeal copying of the West, calling it superficial, and proclaiming that European culture had to be adopted in its entirety. Several years after the revolution, Abdullah Cevdet, an eminent and politically influential Turkish intellectual, wrote that “there is no other civilization: Civilization means European civilization, and it must be imported with its roses and thorns” (Cevdet in Halman, p. 24).
Seyfettin deals with the issue of westernization in his writing. In a short story called “The First White Hair,” Seyfettin sketches the outlines of Turkish nationalism as the solution to Turkey’s crisis of culture. According to Seyfettin, Turks share a common language and heritage, in addition to a common religion; as such, they “have a distinct and separate personality in every branch of culture. They can progress when they discover this personality” (Seyfettin in Paksoy, p. 113). However, Seyfettin was not anti-westernization—in fact, he was part of a pro-westernization movement that included the sociologist Ziya Gökalp and the first president of the Turkish Republic, Kemal Atatiirk. Like them, Seyfettin felt that European ideas of democracy, technology, and progress were salutary. However, he felt Turks should promote and appreciate their own culture instead of merely copying the West. In the story “Fon Sadristein’s Wife,” he pokes fun at a Turkish man who marries a German wife, and at the man’s subsequent inability to become German. Similarly in “The Secret Shrine,” he makes fun of Westerners who are attracted to the so-called Oriental elements of Turkish culture.
“The Secret Shrine” tackles the issue of westernization more directly; the story vehemently attacks the European perspective as personified by a young Frenchman from the Sorbonne who is visiting Turkey. The protagonist, a native Turk who is charged with showing this young student around, criticizes the naiveté of “these Westerners who don’t venture beyond the limits of their ‘fixed ideas’” (Seyfettin, “Secret Shrine,” p. 45). When the French student is confronted with the error of his ridiculous assumptions regarding a Turkish “temple,” he lashes out, saying that it is the Turks who are “blind” to their own culture. The Turkish protagonist’s response concludes the story, and shows how little he values European insights into Turkish culture:
But in no way did he say what this thing was that only he saw and we could not see. Indeed, it is known that Turks are very courteous in their judgments. The response came right to the tip of my tongue: ‘If we’re blind, then it’s you who are mute!’. But I remained silent. I didn’t utter a sound.
(“Secret Shrine,” p. 51)
SEYFETTIN’S DIARIES
Seyfettin kept a diary during his military service, which included a detailed account of his own observations during the Irtica of 1909 As a firsthand account of an educated and intelligent observer and participant, Seyfettin’s journals are considered invaluable. Seyfettin recorded verbatim the speeches of various officials; such as the army’s Commanding General and the Postmaster, He also preserved private conversations that occurred in such places as the (ocal club and army headquarters His journals describe what is going on in the streets, giving us a taste of public reaction at the time, The diaries furthermore provide the reader with a glimpse into a young officer’s preparations, as Seyfettin is about to be deployed into battle:
Dated April 3: Volunteers are arriving. The reserve Battalion is mobilizing. There is unprecedented activity.… I collected my books and papers and placed them in the big strongbox, I kept out a change of underwear and clothes for the suitcase I am completely ready.
(Seyfettin in Alangu, p, 139)
Seyfettin movingly describes his diary, and the important rote it plays in his life:
However, my poor notebook, I found and dragged you from under my books. You were Idle for the past six months. Possibly, more important events will occur that I will commit to you, I entrust to your neutral white pages those thoughts of mine which I cannot confide to even the youngest and most progressive friends for fear of being “misunderstood.” Hundreds of your pages are filled. I read you in order to prompt myself into action. As long as I live, you are going to be my companion.
(Seyfettin in Alangu, p. 135)
The counterrevolution of 1909
Many religious extremists deeply resented the various reforms and secular policies of the Young Turks. In the fall of 1908, during the month of Ramadan (the Muslim month of fasting), conservative religious groups began staging public protests and demonstrations calling for closing bars and censoring other forms of public entertainment, and urging restrictions on women’s freedom of movement consistent with Islamic principles. The Mica (“Reaction”) was instigated by members of the Unified Mohammedan Party, who included mainly students of the madrasah (theological school) and some rank and file officers. Ultimately they took some army officers hostage, and demanded a return to Islamic law, which they felt the constitution had usurped.
Within days, The CUP had assembled an “action army” (Hareket Ordusu) to counter the rebellion. Ottoman troops stationed in Macedonia, of which Seyfettin was a member, were called to Istanbul to quell the Irtica rebellion. They traveled by train to Istanbul, where they occupied the city and suppressed the rebellion. Many of the rebels were tried, convicted, and executed under the auspices of the two courts-martial that had been established.
Seyfettin’s loyalties were clearly against the rebels, whom he calls “that disgusting crowd spilling blood in Istanbul” (Seyfettin in Alangu, p. 134). He saw the religious revolutionaries as usurpers of the rightful constitutional order.
Seyfettin’s negative opinion of religious fervor recurs in his literary works. In Seyfettin’s “The First White Hair,” the protagonist, an engineer who was educated in France and then returns to Istanbul, reflects on Turkey’s nationalism, and the relationship between religion and nationality. His conclusion is that Turkey has unfortunately neglected its nationality in favor of fostering the umma, or religious community. The Turks, therefore, have neglected the bond with their fellow countrymen, and have focused instead on their bond with other Muslims. The protagonist muses that this pan-Islamism, wherein Turks attempt to resemble Persians and Syrians, has proven detrimental to Turkish nationalism. In the story “Savior,” Seyfettin explores the distinction between being a Muslim and being a Turk. One of the protagonists argues that Turkey will be “saved” not by the lone promised savior of the Muslims, but by various “real” individuals who will all act as guides to revolution and freedom from oppression.
In “The Frog Prayer,” considered here, Seyfettin is also critical of religion, and its effects on progress. The short story is set at a school in a province outside of Istanbul. The religion teacher is portrayed as a staunch conservative who believes that “the duty of teachers is to insist on good old-fashioned training for the children,” and that “life, not the school, is the place for social revolution” (Seyfettin, “The Frog Prayer,” p. 53). During the course of the
“LOTI’S TURKEY”
Pierre Loti is the pseudonym of French novelist Jutien Viaud Born in 1850, Viaud wrote, among other things, accounts of his travels to such destinations as Constantinople, Tahiti, China, and British India, He chronicled his visit to the Holy Land in three different volumes, “Le Desert,” “Jerusalem,” and “La Galilee” (1895–96). Though Viaud was known for taking blatant liberties with the facts, and demonstrating a flagrant misunderstanding of the local Inhabitants he met during his journey, his accounts—part autobiography, part romance, and part adventure story—were fascinating to his readers.
story, the teacher dupes the villagers, and cruelly allows them to believe that he performed a “miracle.” He defends his actions and requests the protagonist’s complicity by saying that “one shouldn’t destroy the beliefs of simple people. They have no need for scientific truths” (“The Frog Prayer,” p. 57).
The Short Stories in Focus
Plot summaries—“The Secret Shrine.”
“The Secret Shrine” is the wry tale of a young Frenchman’s impressions and expectations during a visit to Turkey. Described by the protagonist as a “fanatical Orient-lover,” the young man complains that the authentic, historical Turkey of Loti, the Turkey that he has come in search of, no longer exists. The Frenchman insists that Turks, in some misguided impulse to imitate everything Western, have “Europeanized” their manners, their customs, their clothing, and even “their minds, their very way of thinking” (“Secret Shrine,” p. 45).
During a stroll with the Frenchman, the protagonist is amused to note the former’s reactions to their surroundings. What the Turks view as examples of “our poverty, our brutality, our ignorance,” the Frenchman pronounces “Marvelous” (“Secret Shrine,” p. 46). The young student from the Sorbonne is also utterly bewildered that the Turks feel no “esthetic stirring” in the presence of what the protagonist refers to as “those endless dunghills and owl-topped ruins” (“Secret Shrine,” p. 46). Finally, he begs to be taken to an “un-westernized” Turkish home, and the protagonist agrees to take him along on a visit to his foster mother’s house (“Secret Shrine,” p. 46).
As it turns out, the foster mother is a widow, an “extremely devout, extremely stoical, and extremely conservative” old woman, who would probably not permit a Christian into her home (“Secret Shrine,” p. 46). The Frenchman and his host must stop to buy the visitor a fez, and the European is instructed to pretend that he is a Circassian (a Sunni Muslim from the Caucasas) come to Istanbul before he goes to Mecca to make the pilgrimage. Rather than be insulted by the need for the ruse, the Frenchman actually enjoys this “bit of intrigue” (“Secret Shrine,” p. 46). Once in the house, he is in raptures over everything from the latticework and the Persian carpets to the Ottoman books and the silver tray on which the meal is served. The two men bid each other good night before retiring to their assigned guest rooms for the rest of the evening.
In the morning, the two leave the widow’s house and the protagonist suggests to the Frenchman that they go to a coffeehouse near a shrine to smoke a water pipe, “in order to submerge him all the more in the quaintness of the Orient” (“Secret Shrine,” p. 48). When asking the Frenchman his opinion of the majestic shrine opposite their table, which is one of Istanbul’s most famous monuments, the protagonist is quite surprised at the indifferent reaction he receives. Why, he wonders, should the student be so unaffected by this impressive Turkish site when just yesterday he had been “aflutter… like a madman, in the presence of fallen-down fountains and twisted walls” (“Secret Shrine,” p. 48).
When pressed a bit, the Frenchman declares this monument to be “nothing,” because he has seen Turkey’s secret shrine, “a mystery unknown to any other European” the previous night in the widow’s house (“Secret Shrine,” p. 49). When the protagonist denies that any such thing exists, the Frenchman ignores him, and solemnly promises not to reveal this “secret shrine that you’ve been hiding from the Europeans for centuries” when he returns to Paris (“Secret Shrine,” p. 49). The Frenchman proceeds to read from his notebook a description of what he witnessed, a melodramatic account of his entry into a room in which there were wondrous religious inscriptions and carvings hanging on the walls, gold embellished vessels filled with holy water, and iron-bound caskets containing the bodies of Turkey’s venerable dead. He also describes in detail the complex patterns portrayed on the walls by the hanging of lengths of cord, and dangling from the cords, what he presumes to be relics of the deceased. The Frenchman dares to taste the holy water, which he assumes is from Mecca or Medina, and feels “an incomprehensible exhilaration,” and he departs “with the excitement of a blasphemer, a deceiver, an infidel who has penetrated a forbidden shrine” (“Secret Shrine,” p. 50).
Upon hearing this description of the secret shrine, the Turkish protagonist begins to roar with laughter. He informs the Frenchman that the room he happened into was not a shrine, but his foster mother’s storeroom. Still laughing, he tells the French student that the inscriptions hanging on the walls are samples of his foster father’s calligraphy, which the widow keeps for sentimental reasons. The vessels of holy water are jugs intended to catch rain-water, because the roof over the storeroom leaks. The caskets are clothing chests, boxes designed to hold clothing that the Turkish people use instead of dressers with drawers and mirrors. And the fascinating geometric patterns and relics hanging from them are simply clotheslines used to dry the laundry when it rains. The protagonist muses that the Frenchman has made mistaken assumptions similar to those of Pierre Loti,
his famous compatriot who thought the mashallah inscriptions over our houses were the billboards of a national insurance company, and that the amulet slippers that swing on our eaves were shoes left stuck there by thieves fleeing from roof to roof.
(“Secret Shrine,” p. 51)
Even when confronted with the truth, and the ridiculous nature of his assumptions, the European clings to his assertion that though it was only a storeroom, he was able to experience “an incomprehensible, such an impalpable, such a religious quality” therein (“Secret Shrine,” p. 51). In fact, the Frenchman goes so far as to say that he is sensitive enough to appreciate this quality, while the Turks themselves are “blind” to it. The story ends with the protagonist, out of courtesy, biting back his sharp reply that if it is the Turks who are blind, then it is the European who is mute.
“The Frog Prayer”
The events in this tale take place at a secondary school in one of the provinces outside Istanbul. The protagonist is one of the teachers, and the story begins as the teachers decide, at the invitation of the town doctor, to attend a festive party at the Bektashi dervish lodge. The promised attractions include “roast lamb, music, and wine,” and with a bit of reluctance, the teachers all decide to attend (“Frog Prayer,” p. 54). The religion teacher, Bahir Hoja, only agrees on the condition that he can bring his water pipe, which he smokes at least ten times a day.
At the lodge, on a Friday, the men are having a grand time, listening to music in a place that “was like a vision of paradise still fresh from some blissful bygone days,” and that overlooked a large pool “sleeping in emerald shadows” (“Frog Prayer,” p. 54). As the music starts to play, and the wine is brought around, all the teachers are laughing and enjoying themselves. But their enjoyment is hampered by the “incessant, hellish uproar” caused by about a million frogs “screaming at the top of their voices” (“Frog Prayer,” p. 55). The buzzing becomes unbearable, and prevents the company of friends from hearing themselves talk. One after the other, the doctor and the various teachers attempt to stop the noise by throwing stones, dirt, even flaming newspapers at the frogs, in order to scare them away. The staff at the lodge warns them that “no matter what you do, you won’t be able to silence them” (“Frog Prayer,” p. 55).
Just as the party has decided to give up and leave the lodge, the religion teacher, Bahir Hoja, announces that he has a solution: “If I want, I’ll silence them in a second… I’ll cast a spell, they’ll be quiet instantly” (“Frog Prayer,” p. 55). The doctor expresses doubts, and Hoja begins “swinging his fist with zeal” and “swearing” at his friends’ skepticism. He vows that if the frogs do not quiet down as a result of his spell, everyone can spit in his face. Hoja proceeds to go to the edge of the pond, turn his back to the company, and blow on the surface of the water. Within a minute, “the frogs suddenly became quiet. Not even a peep came from the pond. We were amazed” (“Frog Prayer,” p. 55).
About half an hour later, the frogs begin their noisemaking again, but Bahir Hoja quiets them once more with his spell. This continues throughout the evening. Curiously whenever Bahir Hoja goes to the pond to cast his spell, he never leaves his water pipe behind at the table, claiming that his colleagues are drunk so they might break it.
Everyone is amazed by the teacher’s feat. The fiddler, the local officials, the staff at the lodge, all seem astonished at this accomplished spell-casting. Apparently the doctor is the only one present who does not believe it, “but he didn’t have the nerve to deny the result that he saw with his own eyes” (“Frog Prayer,” p. 56).
All week the protagonist is distracted and confounded by what he witnessed at the lake. After giving the matter a lot of thought, he decides to lay “a clever, scientific trap” for the religion teacher. He engages him in a discussion on spiritual matters, in which Bahir Hoja is very interested. During the course of their exchange, he gets Hoja to admit that animals have no souls and “live outside the spiritual dimension of creation” (“Frog Prayer,” pp. 56–57). The protagonist points out that this cannot be so if Hoja cast a spell on the frogs. Hoja knits his brows, and the protagonist gloats that he has “pushed him into a corner.… He was either going to admit his ignorance or tell the truth” (“Frog Prayer,” p. 57). Hoja finally admits that he did not cast a spell, but rather dangled the tube of his water pipe at the lake’s edge. This quieted the frogs because they thought the tube was a snake, and escaped to the bottom of the pond.
Hoja swears the protagonist to secrecy, saying that the “beliefs of simple people” shouldn’t be destroyed (“Frog Prayer,” p. 57). Since the ability to keep secrets is a feature of provincial life, the protagonist remains silent, and the rest of the town is allowed to continue believing that Bahir Hoja cast a spell. The story’s concluding paragraph tells of the consequences of this hoax, which have overpowered even the rational skeptic represented by the doctor.
The whole town heard about the hoja’s miracle. The Bektashis themselves had witnessed it, and even the doctor’s doubts gradually melted away. Whenever the subject of the miracle arose, the poor doctor would always shrug his shoulders and say, ‘How many unknown things there are in this world, and our knowledge isn’t equal to one-billionth of them!’ And he no longer laughed his usual jolly laugh.
(“Frog Prayer,” p. 57)
Orientalism
In his highly influential work Orientalism, Edward W. Said explores the theoretical construct of “Orientalism,” an intellectual tradition and ideal created and propagated by Europeans. Said uses Michael Foucault’s notion of discourse to explore the ways in which “European culture was able to manage—and even produce—the Orient politically, sociologically, militarily, ideologically, scientifically, and imaginatively during the post-Enlightenment period” (Said, p. 3). According to Said, it is impossible to understand or view the Orient without referring to, or being influenced by, this theoretical construct that has less to do with actual fact than with the expectations, beliefs, and prejudices of Europeans regarding what the Orient means to them. The Orient has always been viewed by the West as mysterious and exotic, but ultimately, inferior.
Seyfettin touched upon similar themes approximately half a century prior to the publication of Said’s analysis. In “The Secret Shrine,” the European protagonist is chagrined not to find the Turkey that Pierre Loti described in his evocative essays. In fact, he refers to “Loti’s Turkey” several times during the story and is constantly measuring what he sees against the vivid descriptions in Loti’s accounts of his travels. The protagonist remarks that this naíve European continually looks at examples of wretched poverty and decay with glee! The Frenchman hardly seems to realize that these conditions might not be the most beneficial for the Turks themselves to be living under; all that matters is that his experience of Turkey mesh with his preconceived notions or “fixed ideas” (“Secret Shrine,” p. 45). Consider the following passage from the introduction of Said’s book, which echoes many of Seyfettin’s ideas as expressed in “The Secret Shrine”:
On a visit to Beirut during the terrible civil war of 1975–1976, a French journalist wrote regretfully of the gutted downtown area that “it had once seemed to belong to… the Orient of Chateaubriand and Nerval.” He was right about the place, of course, especially so far as a European was concerned. The Orient was almost a European invention, and had been since antiquity a place of romance, exotic beings, haunting memories and landscapes, remarkable experiences. Now it was disappearing; in a sense it had happened, its time was over. Perhaps it seemed irrelevant that Orientals themselves had something at stake in the process… that now it was they who were suffering; the main thing for the European visitor was a European representation of the Orient and its contemporary
THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE
The first Turks were tribally organized semi nomadic peoples who began to settle in Anatolia in the mid-eleventh century and won a great victory over the Byzantine army shortly thereafter, at the Battle of Manzikert in 1071 The Turkish migration and settlement of Anatolia continued at the expense of the Byzantine Empire, as one by one, the Greek and Armenian states of Byzantium were defeated and conquered by the Turks. In 1301 Osman I declared himself Sultan of the Turks, and with Mehmed II’s capture of Constantinople in 1453, the Ottoman Empire was established. By the sixteenth century, the conquests of Sultan Selim (1467–1520) had resulted in an empire that included all of Anatolia and the Balkans, as well as portions of northeastern Africa and southwestern Asia. In addition to ruling over such notable port cities as Cairo, the Ottoman Empire now controlled the holy cities of Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem, The empire would endure for several centuries longer, until its defeat in World War I. In 1923 the sultanate was officially abolished and Turkey was declared a republic, after much internal strife and a national struggle led by General Mustafa Kemat, also known as Atatürk, who became the Republic’s first president Seyfettin, unfortunately, did not live to see the creation of a Turkish nation-state and the Turkish Grand National Assembly, an outcome that his literary efforts are said to have influenced and helped effect.
fate, both of which had a privileged communal significance for the journalist and his French readers.
(Said, p. 1)
Ottomanism and education
In his short story “The Frog Prayer,” Seyfettin is relentlessly critical of particular aspects of the educational system. For example, the protagonist tells us that the principals, administrators, teachers, and students “had come from the most distant corners of that vast empire of ours,” individuals of “every race and every type, not Turkicized in anything other than their language” (“Frog Prayer,” p. 52). The French teacher is Jewish, and does not even understand the language well. During evening study hall he writes down questions the students ask him in Latin in his notebook, and he asks the protagonist their meaning the next day. One evening the children ask about the meaning of “divine rapture,” and the confused instructor is at a complete loss as to why they were asking about “the divine coffeepot” (“Frog Prayer,” p. 53).
These humorous observations constitute a critique of the notion of “Ottomanism” as manifest in the context of education. The Ottoman Empire existed for half a millennium, until its defeat in World War I. Historically, the empire, which was composed of various ethnic and religious groups, was organized into villages shared by these diverse groups. Each group, however, had its own internal administrative structure based on both religion and ethnicity; so the Orthodox Greeks, for example, remained distinct from the Jews of the empire. More often than not, rights and privileges were not conferred equally: there was a great deal of favoritism towards Muslims and Turks, which resulted in the granting of special prerogatives.
With the revolution of 1908, the notion of Ottomanism was significantly revised. Now every individual living in the Ottoman Empire, regardless of nationality or religion, was to be considered a full and equal citizen. Seyfettin, the Turkish nationalist, was fiercely critical of this notion, calling it an “illusion, a fantasy”:
It was not possible to constitute a “composite” nationality from the sum total of individuals who have separate religions, languages, moralities, histories, cultures and grounds for pride. Was “Ottomanism” in actuality anything more than the name of our government.… Those of us who speak Turkish, were a nation with a history of five thousand years.
(Seyfettin in Paksoy, p. 115)
The Young Turks, among their many other reforms, undertook an improvement of the cumbersome Ottoman educational system. One of the most far-reaching reforms was that schools would now be allowed to open their doors to women. The reformers looked to Europe for models, and the result was the creation of various teachers’ training colleges and specialized institutes, with the University of Istanbul theoretically at the apex.
Seyfettin is also critical of the school’s structure and personnel in “The Frog Prayer.” The protagonist criticizes the principal as an incompetent “law and order fanatic,” who never socializes with anyone he feels is beneath him (“Frog Prayer,” p. 53). While the principal is preoccupied with acting “like a Greek god,” he fails to adequately oversee the business of running a school whose teachers consist of “twenty different men—old, young, intelligent, stupid, talkative, quiet—formed by four or five schools whose programs and aims were all contrary to each other” (“Frog Prayer,” pp. 52–53). Seyfettin, well-known for his satire and wit, wryly observes that despite all this, a “convivial harmony” existed among the staff, as “religious fanatics, reactionaries, liberals, and finally those with no profession or special character lived together as brothers” (“Frog Prayer,” p. 52).
Sources and literary context
Seyfettin is considered the founder of the short-story tradition in Turkish literature, as well as one of its best exemplars. By the 1960s, with the publication of the 144th edition of his books, Ömer Seyfettin became the most widely read author in Turkey. Like other members of the National Literature Movement, Seyfettin treated themes that include an examination of national values and Turkey’s domestic and political problems.
The Nationalist Literature Movement, or milli edebiyat, is said to have begun with the publication of the journal Young Pens, which was started by Ömer Seyfettin, Ali Canip Yōntem, and sociologist Ziya Gölkap, who is sometimes referred to as “the theoretician of Turkish Nationalism” (Iz in Seyfettin, p. 20). Authors who represented the short story and novel in this movement include Yakup Kadri Karaosmanoglu and Halide Edip Adivar. Poetry was represented by various authors with very different approaches and perspectives, including that of Mehmet Akif Aksoy, the lyricist of the Turkish national anthem, who wrote realistically about national social issues. Seyfettin, like other nationalist authors, wrote in a much more colloquial style than most of his predecessors, often set his stories in locations other than Istanbul, and favored realism rather than romanticism in his works. He is widely known as a writer of short stories aimed at ordinary people, and for the wit and humor he brought to the genre. How effective his approach was can be seen from the fact that his “style of writing had a tremendous influence on the younger generation” (Prusek, p. 169).
Seyfettin participated in a tumultuous period in Turkey’s history, having taken part both in the Balkan War and the suppression of the Irtica of 1909. The writer kept a journal throughout his years of service in the military and apparently drew on this journal when writing some of his short stories. Along with personal experience, events and ideas of his era greatly influenced his tales. In sum, says one scholar, they were “inspired by [Seyfettin’s] experiences as an officer in the Balkans, by the conflicting ideologies of his time, and by episodes of Turkish history” (Iz in Seyfettin, p. 21).
Seyfettin was an original writer who nonetheless remained attached to certain cultural traditions, especially Turkish folklore. Seyfettin recorded that during an illness, Ali Canip Yöntem’s mother told him folktales, themes from which he used in his stories (Tuncer, p. 300). In addition, Seyfettin was well versed in classics of the West and was strongly influenced by the French realists Guy de Maupassant and Emile Zola, citing that their works “help people to develop their skills for thinking and seeing reality” (Seyfettin in Kurdakul, p. 269; trans. S. O. Şenarslan). Indeed Seyfettin’s stories have been compared to Maupassant’s, as well as to Anton Chekov’s.
Reception
Seyfettin’s short and intense writing career has had a large impact in his native country. “The Secret Shrine” and “The Frog Prayer” were both published in newspapers during Seyfettin’s lifetime. “The Secret Shrine” was re-published in a collection by the same name in 1926, and beginning in 1935, Ali Canip Yöntem published a complete collection of his friend’s works.
Although now considered classics, at the time of their release, Seyfettin’s stories sharply challenged the traditional literary establishment. The critic Halit Ziya Uşakligil implied that Seyfettin was not a true artist, when he argued that “lacking innate ability, Seyfettin used everyday language in a satirical way to achieve success” (Uşakligil in Boratav p. 333). Quoted by Pertev Boratav in 1942, this last literary scholar countered with praise for Seyfettin’s pioneering spirit, asserting that “what makes him great is his courage in breaking taboos” (Boratav, p. 334).
Ömer Seyfettin’s stories are still widely beloved in Turkey, where “The Secret Shrine” has been republished in countless anthologies. Perhaps the enduring popularity of this story indicates that Turks are still dealing with issues of Orientalism even as they struggle to enter into the European Union. “The Frog Prayer” has received less attention in Turkey, related no doubt to the fact that Seyfettin’s (and Atatürk’s) strong anti-clerical stance has been continuously challenged here, now seeming to many to be extreme.
However, Seyfettin’s intelligent humor and his promotion of clear, graceful Turkish, which he called “natural language—national language,” has been cited over and over by critics as an enduring gift to the Turkish people (Seyfettin in Kudret, p. 22; trans. S. O. Şenarslan).
—Despina Korovessis
For More Information
Ahmad, Feroz. The Making of Modern Turkey. New York: Routledge, 1993.
Alangu, Tahir. Ömer Seyfettin: ülkücü bir yazarin romani. Trans. H. B. Paksoy. Istanbul: May Yayinlari, 1968.
Boratav, Pertev. “Folklor ve edebiyat.” Istanbul: Adam Yayincilik, 1982.
Halman, Talat Sait, ed. Contemporary Turkish Literature: Fiction and Poetry. New Jersey: Associated University Presses, 1982.
Kudret, Cevdet. Türk edebiyatinda hikaye ve roman, 1859–1959. Ankara: Bilgi Yayinevi, 1967.
Kurdakul, Şükran. Çaddaş Türk edebiyati: meşrutiyet dōnemi. Istanbul: May Yayinlari, 1976.
Lewis, Bernard. The Emergence of Modern Turkey. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002.
Paksoy, H. B. “Koprulu/Veles (Yugoslavia) Ottoman Garrison’s Response to the 1909 Recidivist Uprising in Istanbul.” Turkistan Newsletter. Vol. 97-1: 18a, 2 July 1997, 3–16.
Průšek, Jaroslav, ed. Dictionary of Oriental Literatures. Vol. 3. Ed. Jiří Bečka. New York: Basic Books, 1974.
Said, Edward W. Orientalism. New York: Random House, 1979.
Seyfettin, Ömer. “The Secret Shrine” and “The Frog Prayer.” In An Anthology of Modern Turkish Short Stories. Ed. Fair Iz. Chicago: Bibliotheca Islamica, 1978.
Tuncer, Hüseyin. Meşrutiyet devri Türk edebiyati. Izmir: Akademi Yayinevi, 1994.
Zurcher, Erik J. Turkey: A Modern History. London: I. B. Tauris, 1993.