Modern times are an era when the truth is constantly being effaced, changed and redefined. In the words of Marx, a time when, “everything solid evaporates.”

In this muddle, the role of the media in this state of constant redefinition is huge. At one time, Turkish literature was in a more insulated environment. It was surrounded by its own fence and had its own rules. Within the last ten years the fence has rapidly worn down and borders have become fuzzy.

As the area where literature and the media intersect has broadened, everything solid here has begun to evaporate. Branches frowned upon by some as ‘popular literature’ flourish here. In one way it is a base that ‘lightens’ literature, but in another way it brings literature together with the broader masses, breaks down elitism and pulls the novel reader out of a particular class or out of the government’s monopoly.

As a result, the relation between the media and literature is multi-layered and multi-dimensional.

The other day I received a phone call one morning regarding a report from a news agency. The news that woke me up was entitled, “Elif Safak Warned the Pope. Safak Made Recommendations to the Pope.” My name was used without asking permission.

“Here we go again,” I thought. First I thought this title was a joke, but then I saw it as a serious mistake. But before this, for one moment I felt a crack, something breaking inside – a moment when you lose the truth, you stare dumbfounded at your name from a distance, you feel alienated from yourself first and then from everything; the feeling that the truth is slipping away.

When the matter is investigated, it’s a different situation.

An Italian magazine named GRAZIA did a long interview with me a week ago. In this report, which dwelt mainly on literature, art, culture and then politics, answers were communicated via internet and by phone.

Towards the end of the interview the woman reporter at the other end of the line stated that the Pope was coming to Turkey soon and she asked what I thought about this issue and about his recent talk that led to big reaction and protest in the Islamic world.

I informed her that I found the speech in question to be very “unfortunate.” Mistaken words spoken in an atmosphere that was already polarized enough, that carried enough enmity, and that unfortunately made people believe more in a “clash of civilizations.”

I spoke about the incorrectness of making such heavy, negative generalizations about Islam; indicating that the “Muslim world” is not a one-color, uniform entity. I stated that I believe it’s necessary to refrain from mutual prejudices; plus I said how very important literature and art are in order to overcome these kinds of limits.

The next week I saw my words were presented like this, in capital letters on the front page, “Dear Pope, Listen to me before coming to Istanbul!”

This title was used by our own news agencies, approximately as follows: “Suggestions from Elif Safak to the Pope.”

And I woke up to this title one morning in Istanbul. A moment when the truth slips away, when you don’t want to get out from under the covers, when you look at your name and yourself like a stranger, and when you complain to yourself, “But I didn’t say that.”

You know the famous joke about the Pope. It’s about the situation of the media and mistaken perceptions. This story will remain as a kind of “Joke about the Pope” for me.

10.31.2006