His pen was always on the side of women

Tugce Celik

Pınar Kür , the master of Turkish literature, author, academic , and translator, who passed away yesterday in Istanbul, will be laid to rest today. Following a ceremony to be held in Nişantaşı this afternoon, she will be laid to rest at Ayazağa Cemetery.

The author, who had been battling various health problems for some time, was most recently hospitalized with pneumonia. Kür, who passed away at the age of 82, left his mark on the era with his numerous works.

The loss of Kür saddened readers and the literary world.

Müjde Ar, who played the lead role in the film "The Woman to Be Hanged," which she once worked on a program with and was adapted from her work, said, "Pınar always held her pen on the side of women." Ar said, "She was a close friend and companion. We met through 'The Woman to Be Hanged.' Pınar's intellectual background was incomparable to anyone else. Füruzan was the same. They are very special women, unwavering in their beliefs. Pınar always held her pen on the side of women. You can see how she protected women in her works. I am so sorry."

He turned silence into resistance.

Cem Akaş/Can Publications Editor-in-Chief: There are writers who are witnesses of their eras, and there are writers who define their eras; Pınar Kür was one of those rare writers who embodied both qualities. When I read "The Woman to Be Hanged," I remember encountering a harsh reality behind the words, the harshness of a rebellion against the patriarchal order. Kür's feminist perspective was never limited to a slogan; while she brought her characters to life, she also managed to reveal the world they lived in starkly. "The Woman to Be Hanged" wasn't just one woman's story; it was like a bloody footnote to the system's decree; Kür placed not the female body at the center of the narrative, but the millennia-old judgment that had descended upon it.

When I look at Kür's books, I constantly think about how writing and silence can transform into resistance. As a society, we have deep wounds that haven't healed, still seeping blood; that's precisely why Pınar Kür's works are valuable: To ensure they aren't forgotten.

I LOST AN IMPORTANT GUIDE

Müge İplikçi/Author: I met Pınar Kür when I read her novel "Tomorrow, Tomorrow." I still remember running down Cağaloğlu Hill under the influence of the book and the deep sadness that filled me.

I feel fortunate to have continued my academic and literary endeavors alongside him for years. This process wasn't just about teaching; it was a significant step toward imparting communication skills to future generations and equipping them with them. Today, I am deeply saddened by the loss of not only a great literary figure, but also an important guide and friend in both my academic and personal journeys.

Gülseli İnal/Poet: Pınar Kür used a pen at a time when writers and poets were defined by their gender. The epithets "Woman Writer" and "Woman Poet" stemmed from patriarchal exclusion of the female gender. She paid no attention to any of them; she wrote entire books, her pen always in hand. She voiced and recorded the Trementum in motion in our society. In her books, she delved into psychological analyses and wrote about the problems of the Republican era. She quietly defended the equality of women and men. She described what is seen and lost in time and space, which shapes and enters into forms of writing. She valued spiritual existence and wrote against violence. Dear Pınar Kür, who is in touch with her inner life and speaks to the outside world through writing, I wish you a safe journey. I believe that on this journey, Thoth of Atlantis, the Prophet of Writing, will greet you.

WE ARE MISSING, READER, DO YOU HAVE ANY NEWS?

Erendiz Atasü/Author: I first encountered Pınar Kür with "Tomorrow, Tomorrow" in the spring of 1976, in an Istanbul that bore some resemblance to its original state. The September 12th coup hadn't yet struck, March 12th still ached in the hearts of left-leaning young people, but hope was being reborn. The novel had captured me. "Tomorrow, Tomorrow" remained entangled in my memory, entwined with the lush green paths of the Anatolian side.

Later, as I read those sonorous stories—"Flowless Waters," "A Mad Tree"—I felt a profound admiration. The states an individual falls into when life's vibrant flow is blocked… In Pınar Kür, I always found that joy in life, both the fragility of the individual under obstruction and the steel-wire-like resilience. In our brief encounters, she was always beautiful, witty, and fearless. She often had her own problems with censorship.

"The Woman to Be Hanged" is magnificent. There's no other novel in our literature that can so effectively portray "Woman," condemned to life imprisonment in a narrow space ill-suited to human needs, favored by a social perception and bureaucratic practices influenced by moldy medieval morality. Oh reader, are you aware of this?

A COLOR IS LOST FROM OUR LITERATURE

Writer Murathan Mungan shared the following on social media : “I’m sorry, Pınar Kür. Another color has vanished from our literature. Another leaf from the years of a generation’s upbringing. I will remember you the day you showed me “a crazy tree” in your garden when I came to your house.”

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WHO IS PINAR KÜR?

Pınar Kür graduated from Robert College and Boğaziçi University. She studied in London, New York, and Paris. She received her doctorate from Sorbonne University and taught at Istanbul Bilgi University and Istanbul University. Her first novel, "Tomorrow, Tomorrow," was published in 1976. "The Little Player" followed in 1978, and "The Woman to Be Hanged," which shook the rigid moral norms of the time and made a splash a year later. After publishing three consecutive novels, Kür began writing short stories and returned to novels in the second half of the 1980s. Her interest in crime fiction was sparked in 1990 with "A Murder Novel." She has translated numerous important works.