This cop is a true angel!
In When Pera Trees Whisper, Inspector Nevzat returns to his old beat, a steadily deteriorating neighborhood in Istanbul, to investigate a murder case. The locals, who respect him greatly, know him as the guardian angel of Beyoğlu.
This seems to be a uniquely Turkish attitude because, in our neck of the woods, he’d probably be spit on instead. And get this, it’s not just the average citizens who adore him—the rougher, more dubious elements do too. If, in any rough area around here, the boys were seen chatting so friendly with the fuzz, you’d likely whip out a gun on the spot, driven by deep suspicion.
Engin, the murder victim and a member of the mafia, was a real scumbag. When the narrator describes him in When Pera Trees Whisper first as an unfortunate man and then as a hapless soul in two consecutive sentences, you can’t help but start pondering the various synonyms for “pretentious.”
Don’t you dare mock Inspector Nevzat!
You’ll need those synonyms later on too, as you observe the old-fashioned, gentlemanly demeanor of Beyoglu’s Guardian Angel. Swear to God, it’s like a grandpa doing some detective work—but not a focused, driven investigator like Maigret, more like a kindly, absent-minded old man— whose brain might be softening a bit and who might even be secretly laughed at behind his back…
At least, that’s what you might think when you see the affectionate indulgence with which he views his mildly racist, aggressive, and cantankerous deputy. Then again, this attitude might also be a Turkish thing. I mean, the racism. So, there’s not much to do about it.
The charmingly antiquated style of When Pera Trees Whisper’s prose and the constant expressions of goodwill are straight out of an old-fashioned historical novel, reminiscent of the upright and honorable heroes of French History.
The Guardian Angel of Beyoglu is going in circles
In terms of the technical aspects of the investigation, there’s nothing to fault Chief Inspector Nevzat on—everything’s on point: lab tests, background analysis, interrogations, it all clicks. Yet, after a while, you start to notice that the plot revolves around the same few characters, and it’s only on rare occasions that anything of significance is revealed. There’s virtually no twist in the entire story.
So then, HOW ON EARTH DID THEY DARE TO WRITE on the cover of Ahmet Ümit’s book that this is “a masterpiece by the grandmaster of contemporary literature”? Setting aside the marketing reasons, of course.
So sweet it’ll give you a cavity
On one hand, once you realize that, like their pastries and TV series, Turkish books also seem to be saccharine sweet, the answer becomes clear: When Pera Trees Whisper is DELIBERATELY MADE THIS WAY! It’s cleverly tailored to the Turkish national spirit: naïve goodwill, over-idealized romantic relationships, (over)powerful yet bread-spreadable male characters (Ali), with some soap-opera-like stalling. And at the end, a lame, out-of-place, melancholic showdown that feels more like a Western standoff. Those many good folks in Turkey probably devoured Ahmet Ümit’s crime novel. While back home, you’re just blinking in confusion. What the heck is this?!
An Ode to Istanbul – with strong social criticism
On the other hand, alongside the slow and awkward detective work, the love for the city of Istanbul permeates the book from start to finish. And so does the nostalgia for a world and cityscape rapidly changing under the dominance of money. Along with the ever-present weary critique of the miserable state of Turkish public life and society: the helpless regret over the poison of nationalism, corruption, and authoritarianism, perhaps inherited from Ottoman times. Thanks to these latter elements, When Pera Trees Whisper likely stands out as a beacon in Turkish crime literature.
Ahmet Umit is making fun of himself – and the reader as well
Ahmet Ümit even wrote himself into the book as a side character who greatly irritates the protagonist (and the reader). Meta. But the execution is not quite as clever. Ümit may have chuckled contentedly while writing, but reading these pointless scenes is pretty tiresome.
If Turkish pop music is unfamiliar to you and you’d like to dive into it, Chief Inspector Nevzat, Beyoglu’s Guardian Angel, frequently draws the attention of his reluctant subordinates—and the unsuspecting reader—to several excellent artists and works. (Turkish national spirit rules!) Of these tempting recommendations, the title that caught my eye the most was I Am a Wonderful Talking Parrot, But It’s Not Words That I Speak by Itri. This would be like recommending Barry Manilow to an indie rock fan or a Swiftie. But maybe a Turkish music expert will stumble upon this and correct me.
Rating: 6.8/10
When Pera Trees Whisper by Ahmet Umit
440 pages, Paperback
Published in 2014 by Everest Yayınları