Turkish literary giant Yaşar Kemal remembered 6 years on
ONE of the greatest names of modern Turkish literature, Yaşar Kemal, shaped and influenced Turkey’s literary world for decades. His impact and the void he left continues to be felt six years after his passing.
Kemal was born on Oct. 6, 1923, in southern Turkey’s Osmaniye province to Sadık and Nigar Gökçeli. His parents gave him the name Kemal Sadık Gökçeli.
He had a difficult childhood as his family moved from city to city. He lost his right eye in a knife accident, and when he was just 5 years old, he witnessed his father being stabbed to death. Due to the trauma, he developed a speech impediment, a condition that would last until he was 12 years old.
He was interested in nature and writing from an early age. Before he even began primary school, he had started writing folk poems under the name “Aşık Kemal,” aşık being the traditional name for singer-poets and bards in Turkish culture.
His first publication came in 1939 when he was only 16 years old with his work “Seyhan,” which was published in the Adana
Community Center Journal. His journey in literature had begun. He would demonstrate immense curiosity and passion for folk literature in the ‘40s by publishing several poems in the genre.
At that time, he also met several wellknown and highly regarded figures from the Turkish world of art. One of the more influential people he met was Abidin Dino, the esteemed Turkish artist and painter. Thanks to Dino, Kemal was introduced to the book, “Don Quixote” by Spanish novelist Miguel de Cervantes, which had a significant impact on him and propelled him in his foray into Western literature.
In 1946, he wrote his first book, titled “Pis Hikaye” (“The Dirty Story”), which reintroduced many forgotten rhymes and ballads, which he had collected since his childhood. His first stories, “Bebek” (“The Baby”), “Dükkancı” (“The Shopkeeper”) and “Memet ile Memet” (“Memet and Memet”) were published in 1950.
In 1951, after a short period of unemployment, he started writing for the “Cumhuriyet” newspaper under the pseudonym,
“Yaşar Kemal.” The following year, Kemal married Thilda Serrero, the granddaughter of Jak Mandil Effendi, who was the chief secretary to Ottoman Sultan Abdülhamid II. Serrero, who knew Turkish, English, French and Spanish, went on to translate seven of Kemal’s works into various languages allowing him to gain even more international recognition. The couple later had a son, Raşit Gökçeli. After Serrero’s death in 2001, Kemal married Ayşe Semiha Baban.
“İnce Memed” (“Memed, My Hawk”), which he wrote in 1955, is touted as his most significant work. It took the literary world by storm, and Kemal received praise and acclaim in Turkey as well as internationally. In the novel, he criticized the fabric of society through a legendary hero. The book would make Kemal one of the most famous Turkish writers. Kemal very skilfully touched upon themes like poverty, violence, solidarity, unity, corruption, passion for nature and the battle between men and nature in the books he wrote.
He was also involved in political struggles. He was sentenced to 18 months in prison
for an edition of his journal, “Ant” (“The Oath”), which he had begun publishing in 1967. The decision would later be reversed.
Although Kemal was nominated, and perhaps deserved the Nobel Prize in Literature, multiple times with the first being in 1973, the prestigious award remained elusive for the acclaimed writer. He would later say in an interview, “I will be nominated till I die.” He was unfortunately correct as he never received the honor. He was the first Turkish national to be nominated for the award.
TAHA Saleh was only four-yearsold when he and his family left Somalia in 1990 amid a civil war in his country. They settled in Manchester in the United Kingdom, building a new life there. The former refugee, now working as an engineer, now looks to help others who find themselves displaced. Saleh traveled to the southeastern province of Şanlıurfa this week and delivered aid to Syrian refugees who, just like his family, fled civil war in their homeland, right across the border with Şanlıurfa.
Saleh saw the plight of refugees on social media and contacted the Rahmet Association, a local nongovernmental organization helping refugees in the province. The association arranged a meeting between Saleh and the refugees where he delivered cash aid and chatted with them. “I love Turkey because they help those refugees. I liked Şanlıurfa too. They welcomed me very well here. I am grateful to volunteers at Rahmet Association for helping those people. Here, I have seen for myself how the refugees live (amid their hardships),” he told İhlas News Agency (İHA) yesterday. He says refugees like him faced racist attitudes at times in the United Kingdom but he saw none in Şanlıurfa. Saleh pledged to return in two months to bring more aid to refugees.
“We built a bridge between the United Kingdom and Şanlıurfa thanks to brother Taha. We became emotional when he came all the way to help refugees,” Mehmet Doğan, head of the association, said.
Turkey hosts 3.6 million Syrian refugees, the largest such community in the world, among which are those who fled the civil war which erupted in the country’s southern neighbor in 2011. A small
number of them stay in accommodation centers set up on border provinces while the majority eke out a living in provinces all across the country. Some benefit from work permits while others rely on charities for a living. Turkey spent at least $40 billion on the welfare of Syrians since they started arriving in the country a decade ago. It also reaches out to those unable to leave Syria.
LAUREN Foundos has excelled at just about everything she has put her mind to, from college sports and Wall Street trading to her Forte startup that takes workouts online.
Being a woman in the overwhelmingly male world of venture capital was still a barrier – but like many other female entrepreneurs, she only worked harder to succeed.
“In some cases, before I even spoke, they were asking me if I would step down as chief executive,” Foundos said of encounters with venture capitalists. “This was a whole new level.” Men would speak past her in meetings, discussing whether she could emotionally handle the job as if she was not there, or wondering out loud who would take care of the books.
“When that happens, I tell them I am right here,” Foundos said. “I am the finance guy; I worked at big banks for more than 10 years. I’ve been the best at everything I have ever gone into.”
Startups can only get by so long relying on friends, family or savings before eventually needing to find investors willing to put money into young companies in exchange for a stake in the business.
Money invested in startups in their earliest days, perhaps when they are no more than ideas or prototypes, is called “seed” funding.
When it comes to getting backing for a startup it is about trust, and that seems to be lacking when it comes to women entrepreneurs, according to Foundos and others interviewed by the Agence France-Presse (AFP).
“I don’t think women need to be given things,” Foundos said of venture capital backing. “But I think they are not seeing the same amount of deals.”
Forte has grown quickly as the pandemic has gyms and fitness centers scrambling to provide online sessions for members.
Foundos brought on a “right-hand man,” a male partner with a British accent, to provide a more traditional face to potential investors and increase the odds of getting funding.
She has taken to asking venture capitalists she meets if they have invested in women-led companies before, and the answer has always been “no.”
A paltry few percent of venture capital money goes to female-led startups in the United States, according to Allyson Kapin, general partner at the W Fund and founder of Women Who Tech (WWT).
Being sexually propositioned in return for funding, or even an introduction to venture capitalists, is common for women founders of startups, according to a recent WWT survey.
Some 44% of female founders surveyed told of harassment such as sexual slurs or unwanted physical contact while seeking funding.
And while last year set a record for venture capital funding, backing for women-led startups plunged despite data suggesting that such companies actually deliver better return-on-investment, according to Kapin.
“This isn’t about altruism or charity, this is about making a (load) of money,” Kapin said of backing women-led startups.
BAR SET HIGHER
Prospects for funding get even more dismal for women of color.
Black entrepreneur Fonta Gilliam worked overseas with financial institutions for the U.S. State Department before creating social banking startup Invest Sou Sou.
Gilliam took the idea of village savings circles she had seen thrive in places such as Africa and built it into a free mobile app, adding artificial intelligence and partnering with financial institutions.
She created a Sou Sou prototype and started bringing in revenue to show it could make money, but still found it tougher to get funding than male peers.
“We always have to over-perform and overcompensate,” Gilliam said. “Where startups run by men would get believed, we’d have to prove it 10 times over.”
Gilliam got insultingly low valuations for her startup, some so predatory that she walked away.
“We are still lean and mean bootstrapping, but I think it is going to pay off in the end,” Gilliam said.
“One thing about women-owned, black-owned startups: because there is such a high bar to get support our businesses tend to be scrappier, stronger and more resilient.”
PRIVILEGED ‘PIPELINE’
Women-led startups tend to be on the outside of the “pipeline” that unofficially funnels entrepreneurs to venture capitalists, according to Kapin and others.
In Silicon Valley, that channel is open to male, white tech entrepreneurs from select universities such as Stanford.
“The pipeline becomes filled with people from the same universities; from similar backgrounds,” Kapin said.
“It is not representative of the world, which is problematic because you are trying to solve the world’s problems through the lens of very few people – mostly white men.”
Investors competing for gems in the frothy tech startup scrum are missing out on a wealth of returns, and stability, to be had by investing in neglected women founders, according to Caroline Lewis, a managing partner in Rogue Women’s Fund, which does just that. “At the end of the day, it is the right thing to do and it is a good thing to do,” Lewis said.