ask me whether all of this was indeed correct; whether there wasn’t any
recourse and whether we’d truly burn in Hell。 He suffered fits of regret and
beat his breast in remorse; but I was unpersuaded。 He was an imposter who
feigned regret。“
“How did you know this?”
“We’ve known Elegant Effendi since childhood。 He’s very orderly; quiet;
ordinary and colorless; like his gilding。 It was as if the man standing before me
then was dumber; more naive; more devout; yet more superficial than the
Elegant we knew。”
“I hear he’d also bee quite close to the Erzurumis;” said Black。
“No Muslim would ever feel such torment and regret for inadvertently
mitting a sin;” I said。 “A good Muslim knows God is just and reasonable
enough to consider the intent of His servants。 Only pea…brained ignoramuses
believe they’ll go to Hell for eating pork unawares。 Anyway; a genuine Muslim
knows the fear of damnation serves to frighten others; not himself。 This is
what Elegant Effendi was doing; you see; he wanted to scare me。 It was your
Enishte who taught him that he might do such a thing; and it was then I knew
that this was indeed the case。 Now; tell me in plete honesty; my dear
illuminator brethren; has the blood begun to clot in my eyes; have my eyes lost
their color?”
They brought the lamp toward my face and gazed at it; displaying the care
and passion of surgeons。
“Nothing seems to have changed。”
Were these three; staring into my eyes; the last sight I’d see in this world? I
knew I’d never forget these moments until the end of my life; and I related
what follows; because despite my regret; I also felt hope:
“Your Enishte taught Elegant Effendi that he was involved in some
forbidden project by covering up the final picture; by revealing only a specific
424
spot to each of us and having us draw something there—by giving the picture
an air of mystery and secrecy; it was Enishte himself who instilled the fear of
heresy。 He; not the Erzurumis who’ve never seen an illuminated manuscript in
their lives; was the first to spread the frenzy and panic about sin that infected
us。 Meanwhile; what would an artist with a clear conscience have to fear?”
“There’s much that an artist with a clear conscience has to fear in our day;”
said Black smugly。 “Indeed; no one has anything to say against decoration; but
pictures are forbidden by our faith。 Because the illustrations of the Persian
masters and even the masterpieces of the greatest masters of Herat are