Six years ago, Turkish Nobel laureate Orhan Pamuk was utterly dismayed upon reading the plot summary for a proposed television adaptation of his acclaimed novel, “The Museum of Innocence.” The plan for his more than 500-page tale of obsessive love, set in 1970s and ’80s Istanbul, took far too many liberties, adding twists that he felt egregiously diverted his original narrative.
Pamuk didn’t hesitate to fight back, suing the production company to reclaim the rights to his story. He vividly recalled the “nightmares” of that period, grappling with substantial legal fees and the constant worry that his work might be irrevocably altered. He shared this from his book-lined office, located on the top floor of the very Istanbul apartment building where his family resided and he himself grew up.
His perseverance paid off. In 2022, Pamuk won the lawsuit. He then embarked on a new collaboration with a Turkish producer, this time imposing strict conditions to safeguard his artistic vision. Four years later, his efforts have culminated in success: “The Museum of Innocence” is set to launch as a nine-part series on Netflix this Friday.
This streaming debut marks a significant milestone for the 73-year-old Pamuk, Turkey’s most celebrated novelist. His extensive body of work, spanning over 20 books including fiction, memoirs, essays, and photography, has been translated into numerous languages. He was honored with the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2006.
The Netflix series is expected to significantly broaden the global reach of his work, bringing his captivating narrative to audiences worldwide.
“Of course every novelist wants his or her novel to be converted into a film,” Pamuk confessed. “Most of the time, the motivation is either money or popularity, and I carry these vices.”
An accompanying image shows Orhan Pamuk in his Istanbul office, seated in a colorful armchair, with bookshelves visible in the background.
The article also includes a visual depicting a detailed exhibit from the real-life Museum of Innocence, showcasing the very items Kemal collected in his novelistic obsession, including countless discarded cigarette butts.
Pamuk’s upbringing was in Nisantasi, an affluent, secular Istanbul neighborhood synonymous with the city’s European-leaning elite.
Initially aspiring to be a painter, he left architecture school to pursue fiction, delving into Turkey’s Ottoman history, its Western aspirations, and the inherent tensions between these influences. He is married to a hospital director and has a daughter and granddaughter from his first marriage.
His acclaimed novels such as “The Black Book,” “My Name is Red,” and “Snow” cemented his international reputation. The Nobel committee, in its 2006 award citation, lauded his ability to “discovered new symbols for the clash and interlacing of cultures.”
Istanbul features profoundly in Pamuk’s writings, with his stories often woven through locations from his personal memories. Many of his characters’ lives, loves, and tragedies unfold within walking distance of his childhood home. He recounted how a character fell in love in a nearby university building, while another faced academic disappointment there.
During a recent walk through the area, Pamuk lamented the drastic changes: the historic wooden houses replaced by unremarkable apartment blocks, and once-quiet streets now bustling with trendy coffee shops and crowds. “It is hard to continue to love this place, this neighborhood, because of how it has changed,” he remarked.
What was once Alaaddin’s Shop, a corner store frequented by Pamuk and one of his characters, is now a generic men’s clothing store. His former secondary school has been replaced by an ordinary shopping center.
“It’s a mall, a regular mall,” he noted with a hint of disappointment. “Nothing interesting.”
Another image displays a handwritten draft of “The Museum of Innocence,” an intimate glimpse into the author’s creative process, on exhibition at his dedicated museum in Istanbul.
“The Museum of Innocence,” published in 2008, intricately details the saga of Kemal, a bourgeois bachelor consumed by his love for Fusun, a younger, less affluent sales clerk. His life becomes a meticulous scheme to remain close to her.
Key locations from the novel, such as Kemal’s apartment balcony overlooking a historic mosque and the building where he and Fusun had secret rendezvous, are all situated near Pamuk’s Istanbul office.
Kemal’s obsession manifests in his collection of everyday objects linked to Fusun – from saltshakers and hairpins to coffee cups, shoes, a toothbrush, a half-eaten ice cream cone and an astonishing 4,213 cigarette butts. After the story’s climax, these items become exhibits in his personal museum, giving the novel its evocative title.
The narrative extends beyond the book itself, having already become a multi-platform franchise. In 2012, Pamuk established a physical Museum of Innocence in Istanbul, showcasing the very objects described in his novel. He further crafted a museum manifesto and a detailed catalog, and in 2015, he participated in a documentary related to the project.
Driven to add a screen adaptation to this growing body of work, Pamuk signed a contract in 2019 with a “Hollywood production company” (which he chose not to name). However, their vision included significant alterations, such as Kemal impregnating Fusun – changes Pamuk found unacceptable.
“Too much change,” he stated firmly. “Once you do that, the rest of the book is not my book at all.” He endured two and a half years and considerable legal expenses to terminate that contract.
Upon regaining the rights, he engaged with Ay Yapim, a Turkish production company, to discuss a new series adaptation.
This time, Pamuk exercised meticulous control over the process, a trait reminiscent of his novel’s protagonist.
He insisted on no upfront payment and withheld signing the contract until the script was finalized, ensuring the producers couldn’t take artistic liberties without his approval.
He also made sure the credits would not only acknowledge his book but prominently feature his museum, which served as a filming location for several scenes.
Furthermore, he stipulated that the series would be limited to a single season, preserving the integrity of the story’s original ending.
Pamuk was deeply involved, meeting frequently with the scriptwriter and Ay Yapim head Kerem Catay, meticulously reviewing each episode’s drafts and proposing numerous revisions.
Once the script was perfected, both Pamuk and Catay signed off on every single page of all nine episodes. Pamuk then formally appended the signed script to the contract, cementing his artistic control.
“Once the script was produced like this and we were assured that if they don’t shoot this, they’ll end up in Siberia or hang, then I was reassured,” Pamuk quipped with a grin, highlighting the intense level of control he maintained.
In an interview, Kerem Catay confirmed Pamuk’s profound involvement, describing the scripting process as unparalleled. He noted that the series took an unprecedented four years to complete, making it the longest production in his 19 years in the industry.
“Orhan Bey has high standards,” Catay remarked, using a Turkish honorific for the esteemed author. “It wasn’t easy for a writer, a producer and the writer of the novel to have this going-page-by-page thing.”
An image captures Orhan Pamuk in a contemplative moment, light illuminating his face, as he reflects on his passion for storytelling and its adaptation to film.
Catay admitted his apprehension, recalling that after two years of intense work, there was still no formal contract. This meant Pamuk could have withdrawn at any point, rendering all their efforts futile.
The production company meticulously recreated Nisantasi from the 1970s on a dedicated set. They cast Selahattin Pasali, a Turkish heartthrob, as Kemal, and the lesser-known Eylül Kandemir as Fusun, with Pamuk expressing hopes for her future fame.
Crucially, Ay Yapim hired Zeynep Gunay, a female director, in line with Pamuk’s preference.
Pamuk acknowledged that after his novel’s initial publication, he faced criticism from Turkish feminists for predominantly presenting the male perspective.
“Although I tried to avoid the common misconceptions or prejudices of Middle Eastern men, unfortunately, I am a Middle Eastern man, and I accept all feminist criticism completely,” he confessed.
He believed that a female director would infuse the adaptation with a richer and more balanced portrayal of the heroine’s point of view.
After the series was finalized, Pamuk watched all nine episodes, and Catay anxiously awaited his feedback.
“He was so happy,” Catay recalled with relief. “He said he liked it.”
A final image shows the actors Selahattin Pasali as Kemal, and Eylül Kandemir as the shopkeeper, Fusun, in a living room filled with wood furniture, a still from “The Museum of Innocence” series.
Pamuk hopes the Netflix production will be regarded as a “distinguished film” and attract more visitors to his unique museum. The series was produced in Turkish and is available with dubbing and subtitles in English and other languages.
The series also offered Pamuk an unexpected career first: his acting debut. In a few scenes, he portrays himself, the famous author Orhan Pamuk, to whom Kemal recounts his compelling ordeal.
Pamuk, who confessed not to be eagerly anticipating the launch party and associated fanfare, downplayed his onscreen performance.
“You can’t call it acting because I’m playing myself,” he stated modestly.
When asked about Pamuk’s acting, Mr. Catay offered a candid assessment: “He’s OK,” he said. “But he’s a better writer.”