METIN TURAN INTERVIEW

 NILAVRONILL TALKING WITH

POET OF THE MONTH

METIN TURAN

MARCH 2025

NILAVRONILL: Why do literature and poetry in particular interest you so much? Please give us some idea about your own perception of literature or poetry in general. 

METIN TURAN: I was born in the second half of the twentieth century (1966). My childhood was spent in a large family environment. This family was not just made up of my parents and siblings. My father was a village teacher, and this village was our own, in a sense. Nearly everyone nearby was a part of this family. I could easily go to people who were not from my immediate family, with a different surname, stay there, ask for bread or water if I was hungry, and they would provide it to me. Even in that village, with no phone to communicate, I would occasionally stay in one of those houses I visited instead of returning home for the evening. This did not cause panic for my family, as they felt reassured with the sense that I was “certainly at someone’s house.” The feeling of “home” is not just a place, but a sense of security. This is a basic emotion we have lost in this modern age. Our “homes” were not places that turned into insecure living spaces with steel doors, security guards outside, or satellite-monitored systems. There were people there whom we called Aunt Ayşe, Uncle Mehmet, Uncle Ali, and Sister Hatice. All of them were part of our family. Then, when I was only 12 years old, I migrated to one of Turkey’s largest cities, Ankara. The city was a hundred thousand times more crowded than the village I was born and raised in. I was also alone. I had left my parents and siblings behind in our village. Among those hundreds of thousands of people, literature and poetry alone kept me afloat. Literature and poetry, like many other art forms, are places where we find ourselves. Art is the place where we find ourselves as much as we can express. Apart from basic needs like food, clothing, shelter, and other necessities, art is the most fundamental anchor to life. Since childhood, my sensitivity and the world of literature that I have consciously built have contributed to seeing literature as a plane of existence. In this century, amid technology and fast-paced lifestyles, my deep attraction to poetry and literature comes from the profound awareness they offer about being human. A poem or a literary text, by creating a bridge independent of time and space, carries the feelings and thoughts of different eras and different hearts to us. This is one of the reasons I believe literature is the most effective tool for the journey of the human experience. Moreover, literature and poetry provide me with an unlimited space for expression, ranging from social memory to individual emotion. As a folklorist and poet, I believe I have a mission to interpret humanity’s accumulated knowledge through an elegant perspective and to offer a bridge to future generations. At the core of poetry lies beauty, a deep understanding of life; when you transmit these values, you leave a message to the world while creating yourself. For me, literature is not simply an art, but more so a mirror of the human condition. When I write a poem or read a literary text, I feel as if I am part of a larger world. I don’t want to get lost in the labyrinths of the world. I want everything I try to hold on to in life to be encompassing. A simple, yet enriched life. I insist on literature and poetry to create this beauty. I pursue literature and poetry with passion and responsibility because I am searching for that "home" we have lost as humanity.

 

NILAVRONILL: How do you relate your own self existence with your literary life in one hand, and the time around you, in the other. 

 

METIN TURAN: I see myself as someone who is aware of their literary identity. I have never seen literature as an aesthetic foundation that will fulfill all of our needs. Literature is a fulfilling and satisfying endeavour for a person, but it is not entirely a mirror of life. The chaos, conflict, love, and passion in life, as well as violence, struggle, and deprivation, are all reflected in literature. However, the fact that all these things are reflected in literature does not mean that the novel, the short story, or the poem is a tool for solving problems. What I strive to achieve through writing poetry is to reveal the mysteries of life within the boundaries of poetry. I live with the awareness that we are living in an unsettling, frightening era. This may seem exhausting, but it is a reality I know, and if I can find ways to live with it and overcome it, it makes it necessary for me to do so. My friends and those around me say that I am ambitious, perhaps too ambitious. I myself am aware of this. Though, my intent is not to make money. It is a diligence within the framework of activities I have defined as beautiful for myself. I plant trees, feed cats, dogs, and birds. I try to collect every scrap of trash and every ugly waste that stands out as unnatural to the environment around me. I also want to say this: the "environment" we define as our surroundings has lost its individuality under the watchful eye of a great observer. A good writer, a careful poet, is someone who can create the environment that belongs to us. I try to share more than just my own poems and writings; I also share the works of my friends. I organize events related to this, and as far as my means allow, I try to make these works accessible for others. And undoubtedly, I gain a tremendous intellectual and inner benefit from this. In this regard, with the awareness of my many shortcomings, I see myself as one of the wealthiest people in the world. I am in a vast library, where the stories of thousands of lives are concealed, and this library does not feel jealousy about my discovery of them.

NILAVRONILL: Do you believe creative souls flourish more in turmoil than in peace?

METIN TURAN:  Peace is an explorative state, but chaos provokes what has been discovered in peace. Chaos pushes things to the surface. There is a beautiful saying in Turkish: "Water cannot settle unless it is disturbed!" Creativity is the act of calming this disturbed, complicated state of mind, or, from another perspective, stirring it up even more. It is the state of creating a happiness beyond the smile shown in photographs. I am one of those who seek serenity in the midst of vast, chaotic, and endless turmoil. Therefore I write poetry and engage with literature. My concern is not the smile in a photograph, but recreating its happiness.

NILAVRONILL: What about Turkish literature, is it traditionally European? I mean, does it inherit only European literary tradition? Again, geo-politically Turkey connects both Europe and Asia. So traditionally there must be Asian influence also, upon your culture and literature as well. If so, how can a Turkish literary figure like you balance in between both European and Asian literary traditions and heritages? 

METIN TURAN: Turkish literature is a literary heritage that has been passed down by word-of-mouth for many centuries. It is quite interesting that a torrent of folk tales, fairy tales, epics, and poems have been narrated and conveyed by folk poets and minstrels using the musical instrument known as the saz (bağlama). These artists have not only shared what they heard, ensuring these stories lived on and remained relevant, but also contributed to their proliferation by recreating them. For example, the epics “Dede Korkut Stories”, which were first transcribed in the late 15th century, focus on the period when Turks first encountered Islam, around the 8th or 9th century. Another example are the “Köroğlu Kol Epics”, which were filled with both poetry and prose, created around the 16th century and based on the character of Köroğlu, a folk poet and minstrel. Turkish literature, especially up until the 18th century, while it carries certain European traits, clearly has an Asian texture. From the 18th century onward, opportunities arose for deeper engagement with Western, particularly French literature, influencing the development of Turkish literature. In fact, until the 19th century, genres like theater and the novel, which were not present in Turkish literature, began to develop with translations from French literature and adaptations by Turkish authors inspired by these works. However, Turkish literature also has a deep connection with Russian literature, which it found culturally closer, drawing on it throughout the 19th and 20th century. This influence can also be attributed to the presence of Turkic-speaking peoples in the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union. In order to better explain this synthesis coming from both the West and the East, I prefer to use the term "Anatolia" rather than a national or ethnic identity. This is because in Anatolia, cultural textures from all periods of history have intertwined, and today, like in the past, a literary richness and cultural fusion have emerged through a combination of influences from both the East and the West. When we look at the works of major figures from 20th-century Turkish literature, such as Nazım Hikmet, Yaşar Kemal, Orhan Veli, Orhan Kemal, Fakir Baykurt, Ahmed Arif, Adalet Ağaoğlu, Gülten Akın, and Orhan Pamuk, we can see this fusion. Both Eastern and Western colors are present, creating an "Anatolian" synthesis. The Turkish people, who easily adapted to migration, travel, and making other geographies their "homeland," enjoy being seen within a European literary and cultural circle, while still preserving the distinct colors of Anatolia. Despite becoming part of a globalized world, they prefer not to be viewed as purely Asian. When viewed from a broader perspective, Turkish literature forms a delicate bridge between East and West. It is not surprising that on one end of this bridge are countries with influences from Eastern civilizations such as India, China, and Persia, and on the other, Renaissance-era Italy, Germany, and France, which are distant from the Islamic cultural sphere that has been home to the Turks for over a thousand years.

NILAVRONILL: Do you believe that all writers are by and large the product of their nationality? And is this an incentive for or an obstacle against becoming a truly international writer?

METIN TURAN: We are members of a great human family. I believe that every individual in literature is a part of this family, contributing to the collective human heritage that spans thousands of years. However, I also believe that one cannot achieve universality without carrying the colors of their own culture, that is, without reflecting the locality and enriching it. Without our own distinct colors and identity, we cannot be seen within the rainbow that encompasses the world. The literature we create with our own unique accumulation can be the reason for enrichment and propagation. A literature that is like everyone else's is no different from what today's digital printers produce—there is no originality or creativity in it. There is only repetition. Good literature does not emerge from mere repetition. In order not to blend into the homogenized crowd, one must be protected from the dangers of conformity. Therefore, we see that writers who are aware of the dynamic elements of their local heritage also play a significant role on the international stage.

NILAVRONILL: Now, if we try to understand the tradition and modernism, do you think literature can play a pivotal role in it?  If so, how? Again, how can an individual writer relate himself or herself to the tradition and to modernism?

METIN TURAN: The concept of tradition can be interpreted differently depending on the perspective of each writer. For me, tradition is the richness that emerges from different literary understandings and personalities. To elaborate a bit more, the literary tradition I am part of draws from various sources: on one hand, from Russian poet Pushkin, German poet Goethe, Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore, French poet Mallarmé, and Chilean poet Neruda; and on the other hand, from great Turkish poets, such as Nazım Hikmet, Cahit Külebi, Ahmet Haşim, Gülten Akın, and Enver Gökçe. I believe I am grounded in the accumulation created by all of these different influences. In this sense, it is tradition that creates modernity. Every literary movement and orientation ultimately focuses on tradition as the foundation of its accumulation. Modernism, in my view, is not about dismissing tradition, but about re-engaging with it, offering a new way of interpreting the world beyond the will of the "sacred." In this regard, literature forms one of the most important grounds for such interpretation.

NILAVRONILL: Do you think literary criticism has much to do with the development of a poet and the true understanding of his or her poetry?

METIN TURAN: Criticism matures. The bounds of creativity are limitless, and we can learn the limits of this boundlessness through criticism. Here, I am not referring to a restrictive boundary that limits freedom or creativity. Literary criticism is a serious process of collation, and the critic's objective approach to evaluating a poet contributes to this collation. Criticism significantly contributes to the poet's development and the refinement of their poetry. It is important not to think of criticism solely in the context of the poet or the writer. This artistic space for discussion also nourishes the poetry reader and follower in an aesthetic sense.

NILAVRONILL: Do you think society as a whole is the key factor in shaping you up as a poet, or your poetry altogether?

METIN TURAN: Society has influenced me as a poet. My effort to influence society as a poet stems from this reciprocal interaction. What society gives me, and what society takes from me, form the basis of my poetry, which is also my aesthetic reflex toward society.

NILAVRONILL: Do you think people in general actually bother about literature?  Do you think this consumerist world is turning the average man away from serious literature?

METIN TURAN: The consumerist world has turned almost every value into a commodity that is bought and sold. Global capitalism, with its extraordinary resources, uses this to encourage us to consume poetry and literature in a way that is even more intense than our own concerns for them. As a result, the true supporters of literature remain in a very limited circle, so to speak, confined within an aquarium. High-quality literature is being pushed aside, while popular culture is made dominant. Even in the midst of this reality, I have never been pessimistic. When a person loses hope, it means death is drawing nearer.

Every writer, in the face of death, is an element of living, of staying alive. A writer’s consciousness is also the awareness of replacing more than what we consume.

NILAVRONILL: We would like to know the factors and the peoples who have influenced you immensely in the growing phase of your literary life. 

METIN TURAN: The most prominent factors in the development of my literary life are rooted in being born into a rich oral culture. The Northeast Anatolia region, in addition to reflecting the historical changes in the Turkish language, has a very rich folk storytelling tradition. Growing up in a region where people from various ethnic backgrounds lived together contributed to my exposure to an unlimited linguistic richness and nourished my understanding of language. Literature, especially poetry, was a common topic among the adults in my family. My paternal grandmother, maternal grandmother, and mother were excellent storytellers. Furthermore, my mother, facing difficult circumstances, made folk songs her refuge, using them to cope with hardships. In homes without electricity and where finding fuel for heating was often a challenge, she fought against scarcity through song. Additionally, under the conditions of that time, my mother had come to my father's village as a bride from a distant district. She could only visit her parents once or twice a year for 10-15 days. She tried to alleviate her longing with the folk songs she sang, often improvising them according to her emotional state. These experiences significantly enriched my perception. On my paternal side, my great-grandfather, Cemal Hoca from Kağızman, was a well-known folk poet in Turkey. Although I never met him, his poems were recited and talked about. Many teachers in my family valued reading literary magazines as an essential part of their educational responsibilities, and therefore, poems from other poets were also read. Alongside oral culture, written culture was dominant in our family, too. I became acquainted with the legendary folk poets who greatly contributed to enriching the Turkish language, such as Yunus Emre, Karacaoğlan, Pir Sultan Abdal, Köroğlu, Dadaloğlu, and Aşık Veysel. I drew inspiration from them. From the outside, I had been born into a geography of unparalleled beauty but abundant deprivation. However, inside, I lived amidst the vibrant and dynamic richness of words and stories. During my childhood, I heard the coarse language of work songs, which did not allow any space for restriction. Though rough, they gave me a sense of how to effectively use words within general speech. Another key influence on my literary nourishment was the radio. From an early age, when I began opening my senses to the outside world, the radio became an indispensable source of entertainment and education. Until the 1980s, our villages had no running electricity and therefore no television. The most vivid information from the outside world came through the radio, and my father, out of a sense of obligation, made it a point to listen to the 7 AM and 7 PM "main news" programs, considering it essential for his state employment. At that time, there was only one radio channel, the state-run station, and it was of very high quality. Later, I learned that notable Turkish literary figures such as Sevgi Soysal and Adalet Ağaoğlu had worked there, preparing programs that influenced Turkish literature.

NILAVRONILL: How would you evaluate your contemporaries and what are your aspirations for or expectation from the younger generation?

METIN TURAN: I deeply respect the efforts of contemporary writers to create richness within their individual worlds and to spread that richness to the world. I also take pride in the fact that the poets and writers of the younger generation are creating literature with great skill. I see this both in Turkish literature and in other literature from the world that I am able to follow. The new generation of writers, moving beyond discussions of the inner self, create literature as a collective richness of the great human family. I find this very meaningful. While not forgetting the reality of environmental pollution, wars, armament, and the increasing presence of chemicals, I believe that literature is the creativity that beautifies us and humanizes us.

NILAVRONILL: Humanity has suffered immensely in the past, and is still suffering around the world. We all know it well. But are you hopeful about our future? 

METIN TURAN: I believe that the writer, even in the most pessimistic conditions, is a symbol of aesthetic resilience that instills hope. Our age is a flawed one, hiding the good aspects of what we have accumulated over thousands of years and bringing the ugliness to the forefront. Wars continue. Child deaths, violence against women, and the disruption of ecological balance—these issues will once again be brought to consciousness by writers. Any problem that is not brought to consciousness cannot be solved in a comprehensive way. If humanity continues to repeat its mistakes today, it is because we have not brought these problems into the collective consciousness. When we realize that the world belongs not only to humanity but also to insects, birds, trees, and grass, we will have created a beautiful present and a happy future. I am a fearful person. I write poetry and engage with literature because I am afraid of this savagery. A fearful person is someone who is learning to overcome fear. I am hopeful.

NILAVRONILL: What role can literature in general play to bring a better day for every human being? 

METIN TURAN: Literature is a historical accumulation. Because of this, it encompasses the present. A writer who has deeply absorbed historical accumulation and who creates with an awareness that comprehends every aspect of human experience can also activate their intuition effectively. Literature is a wealth of the soul that cannot be bought. It is the richness of being able to see what is before you. Literature is accumulated, much like experience—it is not easily obtained, and it is the most valuable of treasures.

NILAVRONILL: We are almost at the end of the interview. I remain obliged to you for your participation. Now, personally I would like to know your honest opinion about Our Poetry Archive. Since April 2015 we are publishing and archiving contemporary world poetry each and every month. Thank you for sharing your views and spending much time with us.

METIN TURAN: Since 2015, I have found the work you have been doing, which I have been following with great respect, meaningful and important. I have had the opportunity to get to know poets from different countries I was unfamiliar with and to read their poetry. The continuity and regularity of your work is also noteworthy, because what ties a person to a place is not only the curiosity to find what they are searching for but also the awareness of when those things will come to light. In this age, what is truly "surprising" or "miraculous" is not the unknown, but the realization of the known. You, every first of the month, have established a “known”—this archive will be released. And I am happy to ameliorate myself by following this “known” and its curiosity.

***Translated Into English By Aysen Ritzauer

METIN TURAN

Born on January 10, 1966, in the village of Har now called Çallı) in the Kağızman district of Kars, located in the easternmost part of Turkey. Turan attended and completed primary school, though not in the typical sense - he mostly played games at school. At the age of 12 he moved to Ankara, the capital, where he would later pursue higher education, studying in the fields of technical education, health sciences, and economics. His first literary work, a short story, was published in 1982. And since then, has written extensive studies on Turkish and world literature, publishing more than 30 books on poetry, critiques, and compilations. In addition, Turan has participated in numerous international congresses, symposiums, and festivals, some of which he coordinated. His first poetry book, Suları Islatan Mecnun (Mecnun, The One Who Wet the Waters), won first-place poetry awards at the Makedonia Republic Çalıklı Bahar Festival (2001) and the Ruşen Hakkı Poetry Award, and in 2002 from the Anatolian Music Cultures Association. In 2010 Turan received the Troya Folklore Association Pertev Naili Boratav Folk Studies Award. In addition, he participated as a poet and panelist in the 2018 Winter Olympics in Pyeongchang, South Korea, where his speech and two selected poems were translated into more than 30 languages. The complete anthology (from which the selected works originated) was published in 2022, including an audiobook release available in 25 languages named Su Çığlığı (“The Cry of the Water”). Last year (2024), he was awarded the Changwon International Literary Award on grounds of being a poet and critic who successfully embodies and applies thought rooted in the unique human spirit via poetry creation and criticism, as well as for his contributions to peace, nature, and human rights. Among his works are the following poetry collections: Suları Islatan Mecnun (“Mecnun, The One Who Wet the Waters”) 2003, Sokaklar Kentler Ülkeler (Streets, Cities, Countries) 2007, Ağustos Aldı Sırlarımı (“August Took My Secrets”) 2015, Hâl ve Gidiş (“The State of Affairs, Selected Poems”) 2015, Sabırsız Bir Sabah (“An Impatient Morning”) 2021, Lirik Bulut (“The Lyrical Cloud in Turkish and English”) 2024. Turan’s poems have been translated into several languages, including Polish, German, Arabic, Bulgarian, Persian, English, Korean, Macedonian, Romanian, Russian, Uzbek, Ukrainian, and Greek. Currently, Turan acts as the publishing coordinator of the magazine FOLKLOR/EDEBİYAT (“folklore/literature”), covering folklore, anthropology, sociology, history, music, and literature with regular issues being published since 1994. He is also the publishing director of KIBATEK (Cyprus, Balkans, Eurasian, Turkish Literature Institution), which began its activities in 1998, and TURNALAR (“cranes”), an international translation and literary magazine.

***Translated Into English By Aysen Ritzauer