《my name is red-我的名字叫红》我的名字叫红-第176章

me。 They were panicked。 If they could only decide quickly； before morning；　
right　or　wrong；　which　of　their　lot　was　guilty；　they　were　convinced　they　could　
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save themselves； be delivered from torture and that everything having to do　
with　the　workshop　would　persist　for　years　to　e　as　it　always　had。　
Nevertheless； what Black threatened to do didn’t please the other two。　
What if it became evident that somebody else was guilty and Our Sultan　
learned　they　blinded　me　for　no　reason　whatsoever？　They　were　terrified　both　of　
Black’s　closeness　to　Master　Osman　and　his　insolence　toward　him。　They　tried　
to　pull　back　the　needle　which　Black；　in　blind　rage；　persisted　in　holding　before　
my　eyes。　
Black fell into a panic； as if they were taking the plume needle from his　
hand；　as　if　we’d　taken　sides　against　him。　There　was　another　scuffle。　All　I　could　
do　was　tilt　my　head　upward　to　escape　the　struggle　over　the　needle；　which　was　
happening　perilously　close　to　my　eyes。　
Everything occurred so fast that I couldn’t make out what happened at　
first。　I　felt　a　sharp　but　limited　pain　in　my　right　eye；　a　passing　numbness　seized　
my forehead。 Then everything was as it had been； yet a horror had already　
taken root within me。 The oil lamp had been withdrawn； but I could still　
clearly　see　the　figure　before　me　decisively　thrust　the　needle；　this　time　into　my　
left　eye。　He’d　taken　the　needle　from　Black　only　moments　before；　and　was　more　
careful and meticulous now。 When I understood that the needle effortlessly　
perated　my　eye；　I　lay　dead　still；　though　I　felt　the　same　burning　sensation。　
The numbness in my forehead seemed to spread over my entire head； but　
ceased when the needle was removed。 They were looking at the needle and　
then　at　my　eyes　in　turn。　It　was　as　if　they　weren’t　certain　what　had　transpired。　
When everybody fully understood the misfortune that had befallen me； the　
motion　stopped　and　the　weight　upon　my　arms　eased。　
I　began　to　scream；　nearly　howling。　Not　from　the　pain；　but　from　the　terror　
of　prehending　fully　what　had　been　done　to　me。　
At　first；　I　sensed　that　my　wailing　put　not　only　me　at　ease；　but　them　as　well。　
My　voice　brought　us　together。　
Even　so；　as　my　screaming　persisted；　their　nervousness　increased。　I　could　no　
longer　feel　any　pain。　All　I　could　think　was　that　my　eyes　had　been　pierced　with　a　
needle。　
I　was　not　yet　blind。　Thank　goodness　I　could　still　see　them　watching　me　in　
terror and sorrow； I could still see their shadows moving aimlessly on the　
ceiling of the lodge。 This at once pleased and alarmed me。 “Unhand me；” I　
screamed。　“Unhand　me　so　I　can　see　everything　once　more；　I　implore　you。”　
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“Quickly；　tell　us；”　said　Black。　“How　did　you　meet　up　with　Elegant　Effendi　
that　night？　Then　we’ll　unhand　you。”　
“I　was　returning　home　from　the　coffeehouse。　Poor　Elegant　Effendi　accosted　
me。　He　was　frenzied　and　very　agitated。　I　pitied　him　at　first。　But　leave　me　be　
now　and　I　shall　later　recount　it　all。　My　eyes　are　fading。”　
“They　won’t　fade　right　away；”　said　Black　with　determination。　“Believe　me；　
Master　Osman　could　still　identify　the　horses　with　cut…open　nostrils　after　his　
eyes　had　been　pierced。”　
“Hapless　Elegant　Effendi　said　he　wanted　to　talk　to　me　and　that　I　was　the　
only　person　he　could　trust。”　
Yet　it　wasn’t　him　I　pitied；　but　myself　now。　
“If　you　tell　us　before　the　blood　clots　in　your　eyes；　in　the　morning　you　can　
look　upon　the　world　to　your　heart’s　content　one　last　time；”　said　Black。　“See；　
the　rain　has　eased。”　
“”Let’s go back to the coffeehouse；“ I said to Elegant； but sensed at once　
that he didn’t like it there； and even that it frightened him。 This was how I　
first knew Elegant Effendi had broken from us pletely and had gone his　
separate　way　after　painting　with　us　for　twenty…five　years。　In　the　last　eight　or　
ten years； after he married； I’d see him at the workshop； but I didn’t even　
know　what　he　was　occupied　with…He　told　me　he　saw　the　last　picture；　how　it　
contained a sin so grave we’d never live it down。 As a consequence； he　
maintained； we’d all burn in Hell。 He was agitated and possessed by fear；　
overe with the sense of devastation felt by a man who’d unwittingly　
mitted　heresy。”　
“What　heresy？”　
“When　I　asked　him　this　very　question；　he　opened　his　eyes　wide　in　surprise　
as　if　to　say；　You　mean　you　don’t　know？　It　was　then　I　thought　how　our　friend　
had　aged；　as　have　we　all。　He　said　unfortunate　Enishte　had　brazenly　used　the　
perspectival method in the last picture。 In this picture； objects weren’t　
depicted　according　to　their　importance　in　Allah’s　mind；　but　as　they　appeared　
to　the　naked　eye—the　way　the　Franks　painted。　This　was　the　first　transgression。　
The　second　was　depicting　Our　Sultan；　the　Caliph　of　Islam；　the　same　size　as　a　
dog。　The　third　transgression　also　involved　rendering　Satan　the　same　size；　and　
in an endearing light。 But what surpassed them all—a natural result of　
introducing　this　Frankish　understanding　into　our　painting—was　drawing　Our　
Sultan’s picture as large as life and his face in all its detail！ Just like the　
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idolators do…Or just like the ”portraits’ that Christians； who couldn’t save　
themselves from their inherent idolatrous tendencies； painted upon their　
church walls and worshiped。 Elegant Effendi； who learned of portraits from　
your　Enishte；　knew　this　quite　well；　and　believed　correctly　that　portraiture　was　
the greatest of sins； and would be the downfall of Muslim painting。 As we　
hadn’t gone to the coffeehouse； where； he claimed； our exalted Preacher　
Effendi　and　our　religion　were　being　maligned；　he　explained　all　this　to　me　while　
we walked down the street。 Occasionally； he’d stop； as though seeking help；　
ask me whether all of this was indeed correct； whether there wasn’t any　
recours