“Better not to be making memories right now anyway,” he said.
“In my father’s reality, my mother had never died and his country had never betrayed him.”
“What is the weight of memory?”
“Then she died and no one called me that anymore.”
There is typically a novel of exile appearing on the Booker longlist (and quite often, it makes its way to the shortlist), and Kenan Orhan’s debut novel The Renovation ticks the box this year. The novel is about a woman who fled Istanbul with her family and is living in Italy. A former school psychologist, Dilara is unable to find employment in Italy. Her husband, a former accountant, works as a mechanic. Her father, a former academic and novelist, has Alzheimer’s and has moved in with them, prompting the need for a bathroom renovation. Dilara is gobsmacked when the workers leave and she goes to see her new bathroom and finds a prison cell; the contractors have built the Silivri Prison. (Silviri Prison, now called Marmara Closed Prison, is a high-security state correctional institution complex in Istanbul. It is one of the largest prisons in the world, and it is full of the people betrayed by their own country.)
Dilara under reacts to the fact there’s a prison cell in their house. And it’s not just a replica of the cell, it’s a portal. Her husband freaks out and flees; he is convinced the Turkish government will punish them or force them back. He is intentionally a caricature used to further show the flesh on Dilara’s bones.
The story, however, is one of exile and memory and grief. Dilara is losing her native tongue and her memories of Istanbul are fuzzy. Dilara’s father’s memories have been lost to Alzheimer’s, but he too seeks a home where Dilara’s mother is still alive and the country has not turned on them. The juxtaposition of his memory loss and her craving what they fled is well done. He is losing his memories, confusing her with her mother, and she is reaching for every scrap of the home they left. She finds escape in the prison. Escape from her father and the reality of his condition. Escape from her husband who has abandoned her and their home. Escape from a country she doesn’t feel like she belongs in. In that prison, she has her memories, a Turkish sun, familiar accents, and her mother still lives.
I won’t spoil the ending other than to say it’s one you will likely remember.
I think this one is likely to be shortlisted.
A Girl Named Tommi 