the fact that i didn't hate this makes me think. and i wrote a small essay on the queer story for personal reasons. here it is (spoilers ahead):
There's a story in here about a gay man who commits a murder with his lover and the upbringing of this entire plotline is so interesting that I will try to break it down.
Ahmet Ümit is not at all interested in describing his characters with many details. But when Başkomser Nevzat is introduced to this young man, Yusuf, he mentions his black mustache and burning hazel eyes; before describing him as "a man so beautiful that even the most innocent of women would be tempted by the sight of him."
It feels already weird enough that his main character -a masculine, macho type cop guy who solves murder mysteries- describes an another man's beauty in such delicate details. Even Ali, Başkomser Nevzat's assistant who is also a macho guy that puts in extra effort to look tough (because he's young and still learning), also calls Yusuf "quite handsome" at some point.
Now you might find yourself thinking, "Hm... There might be something queer going on in here." Because that's exactly what Ahmet Ümit wants you to think. But why? Why does this supposed to make you feel like this story is about to take a fishy, not-so-straight turn?
When Ali brings up Yusuf's good-looking nature, it's for a reason. Unlike Başkomser Nevzat who had described him as a beautiful man at the beginning to state a fact; Ali isn't there to state facts, Ali is there to make a point.
As they were interrogating the town-folk, Ali asks a man if there were any women who had tried to seduce Yusuf; because Yusuf's so handsome and all that.
[Since this guy is incredibly hot, women must throw themselves at him—Ahmet Ümit's trying to say. (In these particular stories; we usually only hear about women from a male perspective, as an object of romantic and/or sexual attraction. Even when they turn out be the murderer, they kill because they were "unwanted." As if a woman's role is either to love or be loved in the murder-mystery world. When Ali says how he wishes to be loved by a considerate woman, Başkomser Nevzat replies, "Treat them poorly then.")]
But the man Ali's interrogating keeps repeating how much of a good guy Yusuf is. He's nice, protects the neighbourhood and its people, keeping his father's legacy alive. Even if women had tried such things, he isn't that type of guy.
Ali is visibly frustrated by this answer. Beautiful looking guy; he has no wife, no girlfriend whatsoever—there must be some shady business. This is where we begin to understand exactly where this story's going, as Başkomser Nevzat learns Yusuf had a friend over on the night of the murder -Sait- and by rummaging through some old cases, he finds out Sait has a pedophilia record: abuse of young boys. He cracks the case right away.
When Yusuf is confronted, he tries to deny everything but Başkomser Nevzat threatens to out him by sending him to a hospital and getting him tested—just then he admits the murder. He begs not to be outed to Başkomser Nevzat. He says he'd rather die than to be outed. He isn't a bad guy, he has a good reputation, he always had. Yes, he's gay, but he even murdered a guy to hide that. Because he thinks being gay is worse than killing -as he himself stated multiple times about the poor drummer who got murdered- "an innocent man."
Ahmet Ümit probably thought this was an amusing story to tell straight audiences (and it is, amusing and interesting, to a certain degree.) but what does it tell to queer audiences?
Queers in our literature & media are either non-existent or they're (mostly) self-hating, closeted gays living double lives along with those who still have to hide and keep quiet, even if they no longer contemplate with internalized homophobia.
Overall, a story is just a story. This book was published in the early 2000s and sure, it has some incredibly misogynistic takes and predictable one-dimensional characters; its main character is supposed to be this brooding old cop guy who probably has PTSD to begin with. (Still—I don't hate this like I thought I would. I do feel sympathy towards its two main characters and think it takes talent and a clever mind to write such short stories with an interesting range of plotlines.) But in the end, these are nothing but entertaining murder-mystery stories written for an audience of average readers and while this story isn't necessarily homophobic or pro-gay, what it's trying to say is completely up to the reader.
Maybe it's not saying anything. Maybe it's saying a lot of things. A homophobic reader could look at Sait -a child abuser- and justify their homophobia; since queerness often gets associated with a crime, while it's considered to be a crime on its own. Another reader (queer or not) could look at Yusuf -a young man who is still trying to live up to his neighbours' and deceased father's expectations- and get really sad, angry and frustrated about how our society pressures queer people into self-loathing.
Again: A story can be just a story. It's not that big of a deal. People sure have moved on from this (Not me.) and no one will ever read this small essay I've written in English for some reason. (I think the story was incredibly Turkish with its everything that I thought it would be best to keep a distance by avoiding my mother tongue, while talking about stuff I'm not able to express freely in my own language.)
Anyways. Men. And their murder-mystery stories. Whew.
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i agree with what you said. although i really enjoy Ahmet Ümit's series i am sorry to say that i think he might have written this story merely as a comedic element he even has a caricatured comic book designed around this story, which comes across as somewhat mocking. if you’d like to read it i can lend you.
aren
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waow okay i knew there was a comic book but i didn't know it came across as "mocking." SAD. but i'd still like to read it thank you