established his own sovereignty over his enemy’s library and harem and
became the new husband of the eternally beautiful Neriman Sultan。
DJIM
The miniaturists of Istanbul recount the legend of Tall Mehmet—known as
Muhammad Khorasani in Persia—mostly as an example of long life and
blindness。 However; the legend of Tall Mehmet is essentially a parable of
painting and time。 The primary distinction of this master; who; having begun
his apprenticeship at the age of nine; illustrated for more or less 110 years
without going blind; was his lack of distinction。 I’m not being witty here; but
expressing my sincere admiration。 Tall Mehmet drew everything; as everyone
else did; in the style of the great masters of old; but even more so; and for this
reason; he was the greatest of all masters。 His humbleness and plete
devotion to illustration and painting; which he deemed a service to Allah; set
him above both the disputes within the book…arts workshops where he worked
and the ambition to bee head miniaturist; though he was of appropriate
age and talent。 As a miniaturist; for 110 years; he patiently rendered every
trivial detail: grass drawn to fill up the edges of the page; thousands of leaves;
curly wisping clouds; horse manes of short repetitive strokes; brick walls;
never…ending wall ornamentation and the slant…eyed; delicate…chinned tens of
thousands of faces that were each an imitation of one another。 Tall Mehmet
was quite content and reserved and he never presumed to distinguish himself
or insisted about style or individuality。 He considered whichever khan’s or
prince’s workshop he happened to be working in at the time his house and
regarded himself as but a fixture in that home。 As khans and shahs strangled
one another and miniaturists moved from city to city like the women of the
harem to assemble under the auspices of new masters; the style of the new
book…arts workshop would first be defined in the leaves Tall Mehmet drew; in
his grass; in the curves of his rocks and in the hidden contours of his own
patience。 When he was eighty years old; people forgot that he was mortal and
began to believe that he lived within the legends he illustrated。 Perhaps for this
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reason; some maintained that he existed outside time and would never grow
old and die。 There were those who attributed his not going blind—despite
living without a home of his own; sleeping in the rooms or tents which
constituted miniaturists’ workshops and spending most of his time staring at
manuscript pages—to the miracle of time having ceased to flow for him。 Some
claimed that he was actually blind; and no longer had any need to see since he