Nükhet Sirman

In the beginning of Halide Edip’s novel Kalp Ağrısı (Heart Ache), published in 1924, we meet Zeynep and Hasan between whom later on, their inability in coming together will result in the birth of a great love. A love so great that it burns and destroys everything around it, not allowing any thing at all to shoot forth, bud out… This is exactly why Zeynep, in the sequel to this novel, called Zeyno’nun Oğlu (Zeyno’s Son), will give this love up, and reasonably prefer a marriage based upon affection and respect, instead. However, at this moment in which they meet for the first time, both are still young, single and assertive. Hasan is an army officer with a bright future ahead of him, while Zeynep is the educated, smart but slightly rebellious daughter of a doctor from Istanbul. Their first encounter is in Göksu; they are both sitting at the oars of different rowing boats. After a couple of biting remarks they quickly begin racing. When it ends in a draw they continue the competition on land, in a running race, but the result is the same: They can not beat each other on land either and this is how their great love begins.

When I first read this scene I was around 40 years old. It was a scene which I was not at all a stranger to. It felt as if something I could have done, or had already done, was being described: Thinking oneself to be as strong as a man, racing with him over it, never showing one’s thoughts or emotions, acting coldly and distanced – in a logical manner – when face to face while inwardly feeling like crying “I love you,” out loud… Upon beginning to consider why this scene could depict my inner world so accurately, I suddenly remembered the Türkan Şoray movies I used to watch during the summers, in the open-air cinema on the island. In many of these films she was also, a ‘rebellious’ girl. How could I forget how beautifully the Laz (a ethnic group from the Black Sea region of Turkey) girl, unafraid of competing with men, had stuck a rifle up Ediz Hun’s nose!

‘Actually’ these girls were quite tender, self-sacrificing, sincere and womanly. However, because they had not yet been able to find the love which would bring out these qualities within them, they appeared to be tough and hard-hearted. Only true love could break this shell, this external appearance, bring out the precious essence within them, allow them to shut their eyes and forget about the world. This was so because these girls were very much attached to their honours. They knew all about loving their families and their countries. However, there was one thing above all: They were free. They were free because they were smart, whether educated, or uneducated… They would fall in love through their free will only to give up their freedom through their free will, in the name of affection and love!

This smartness-freedom equation had taken complete possession of the imagination of my generation. Even though Atilla İlhan alleged that these types were Western and unconnected with the realities of Turkey, we readers knew how carefully Turkish romance novels constructed this type. Anyhow, our girls had an important distinction from Suat (the heroine in Attila İlhan’s novel Bıçağın Ucu – At the Edge of the Knife): Suat was frank; with her, what you saw was what you got. The tenderness and self-sacrificiality which would prove that she was genuinely one of us, which she was only covering up with insensivity, was actually absent within her. The desire to be free, seen as equal to men and the ability to manage this in every sphere of life (from marksmanship to boat racing)… Which women are marked with these desires and what kind of woman has the possibility of realising them? Is it possible that these desires, which we believe to be particular to ourselves, have been taught to us by others? Does feminist critique have the right to pry into every bit of our lives to this extent? Aren’t there some things that are better kept away from analysis?

Feminist critique does have answers to these questions, because analysis does not teach us what we must do. Instead it gives us clues as to why we do certain things; changing them is sometimes within our range of possibilities, sometimes not. However, at least it may help us with our inner conflicts we try to cover up, or with filling the gaps between our desires and our reality. Yes, these emotions are indeed those we have been taught. We learned these through novels starting with Namık Kemal’s Vatan Yahut Silistre (Homeland Or Silistre) and İntibah (Rebirth), moving through Halide Edip to Muazzez Tahsin Berkant and Kerime Nadir. The Turkish films produced during the 1960’s and at the beginning of the 1970’s were mostly adaptations of these novels. And now we have serials. These stories and scripts, which teach us about femininity and how to love, create fantasy scenes in the depiction of our desires in order to show us what femininity and love actually are.

The leading role in this scene was given to those women trying to become middle-class. Through these scenes they learned what kind of desires that had to possess to fit in with the norm (and therefore become middle-class). They never wished to imitate the beautiful woman, or the sexy woman; instead, they belittled these types of women. (In fact the televole magazine programs on the television still give this message today, even though now it has become much more complicated and contradictory. On one hand the luxurious life syles of beautiful and sexy women are portrayed, while on the other they are mocked and degraded through the language used within these programs.) While believing that only ignorant women who do not know better, would wish for this kind of a life style, they could not realize that what they were doing was actually class discrimination through femininity, because they knew they were the true daughters of the ‘society without class or privilege’ promised by the Republican fathers.

Of course this femininity was not learned solely from films and novels. Our mothers also taught this to us. At least my mother did this. We know that the process of socialization, that of developing desires and actions suitable to the society we live in, is one that is gendered. Socialization also means genderization. Sociologists say that the most prominent actor within this process is the family, followed by school and friends. For me, the most important lesson during this genderization was being forced to be smart. “Be smart, now!” was not that threat in the imperative form we hear today, no. Instead it appeared in the form of criticizing others, especially my girl-friends. The words “She’s a very sweet girl, but not very smart is she?” uttered in a gentle and understanding tone as soon as the friend I had brought home had departed, were enough for me to comprehend what was of primary importance. However, what was interesting was how this imperative of being smart was not really expected in boy friends. Searching for intelligence, smartness in men was possible solely were emotions did not exist; if not there was always a place for love and feelings. How do I know this? Well, from its lack of any mention of course! The lack of intelligence in a lover would only come up if he were not fit due to class differences. Therefore the genderization lessons within the home and the call to smartness, followed a trajectory over relationships to be established with women and not over those with men.

But then, being smart is hard work. On one hand you have to solve problems, use your brain to understand what is going on around you, while on the other you musn’t show it off too much so that you don’t look like a know-it-all. Being smart meant knowing what is what, what could be discussed where and with whom. So, smartness was knowing one’s place. Later on, my mother came to repeat another one of her mother’s sayings to me over and over again: “Don’t do everything; don’t show that you know how to do everything; if you do then they’ll make you do it.” However, this was a saying which I started hearing after I got married and started doing everything, started solving all of the problems. And of course long after I had started choosing my women friends from smart women only…

“Don’t do it; if you do, then they’ll make you do it.” is a saying which exposes how the acceptable femininity actually means choosing dependancy out of free will. It is a saying which demonstrates how those who are freely dependant end up being dependant. This, of course, can only be said after one acts according to the norms. If not girls can do silly things. The only way to prevent this is to teach them how to know the truth, but act, with their free will, as if they do not know it. After separating from the family the only way to continue this education is to make sure they acquire smart friends. And then, the day comes when we suddenly realize we appreciate smart women, not those who are emotional, beautiful, friendly or sincere. We do not approve of women who are hypocritical, cunning or calculating either. We do not wish to be friends with them and our understanding of friendship has already been defined within certain limits, anyway. This is exactly why relationships between women may be said to be based upon smartness. And again, this is why the state of appreaciating smart women becomes the mark of a certain class, stance, moral disposition and even nationality.

At this point, there is another question yet to be posed. If feminism is the rebellion of women who have freely chosen dependancy against this so-called dependancy, if consciousness raising is actually the naming of these dependancies, then maybe there is yet another hazy area of desire waiting to be explored. The imperative to be smart and, in connection to this, the state of appreciating smart women only.

Now we no longer shirk from showing what we know, but I am not sure whether we have learnt any lessons about competing with men. We act in solidarity with women, we claim that we do not compete with them (maybe the competition in being smart is also part of this), we respect women’s knowledge in a way that is different from Zeynep from Istanbul respecting Kurdish Zeyno at the end of the novel Zeyno’nun Oğlu (Zeyno’s Son). But then, which women do we choose as companions and why?

Translator’s Note: Namık Kemal is a famous nationalist writer and poet who lived at the end of the 19th century and is known for writing the play Vatan Yahut Silistre.

Muazzez Tahsin Berkant and Kerime Nadir are both women who are novelists of the Republican Era and they are known for writing love stories. Halide Edip, however, is a novelist who came before them and also wrote during the Turkish War of Independence on national issues, etc.

Atilla İlhan is a poet and novelist who became famous around the 1950’s.

From Amargi- Issue 10