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Ethnomasquerade in Ottoman-European Encounters - Reenacting Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
Ethnomasquerade in Ottoman-European Encounters - Reenacting Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
Montagu
Author(s): KADER KONUK
Source: Criticism , Summer 2004, Vol. 46, No. 3, Special Issue: Extreme and Sentimental
History (Summer 2004), pp. 393-414
Published by: Wayne State University Press
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access to Criticism
Ethnomasquerad
Encounters: Ree
Wortley Mon
393
To tell you the truth, 1 had wickedness enough to wish secretly that Mr
Gervase [an Irish portrait painter] could have been there invisible. I
fancy it would have very much improved his art to see so many fine
women naked, in different postures, some in conversation, some
working, others drinking coffee or sherbet, and many negligently lying
on their cushions while their slaves (generally pretty girls of seventeen
or eighteen) were employed in braiding their hair in several pretty
manners.7
On the basis of her gender, Montagu claims to be the first Western eyewit
ness of a hamam for women. She writes: "tis no less than death for a man to be
found in one of these places." Her portrayal of the scene conjures up Western
stereotypes of leisurely Oriental women by reenacting the heterosexual male
gaze—to the degree that her hamam scene becomes the blueprint for Jean
Auguste-Dominique Ingres's famous Orientalist painting The Turkish Bath in
1862.8
In order to establish her narrative authority, Montagu needs to invoke the
male gaze as a model for perception. Her intention here is not to replace male fan
tasies but to strengthen her credibility as a travel writer.9 As her strategic appro
priation of the male gaze runs the risk of being read as lesbian desire, she
impresses upon the reader that "there was not the least wanton smile or immod
est gesture amongst" the women in the bath and that—most importantly—she
herself is not fully undressed. This did not, though, stop Ingres from portraying
what Montagu's letter suppressed: the image of naked women fondling each
other in a Turkish bath. Better than any of Montagu's lengthy passages on the sen
sations of being in Turkish dress, the bath scene shows that her narrative author
ity derives from the perpetual performance of her Englishness against the threat
of transgression of ethnic and sexual boundaries in an all-female Oriental world.
Ethnomasquerade, then, is not, as is generally argued in Montagu's case, about
understanding the Other by becoming the Other; rather, it is a narrative strategy
to demonstrate control over the perceived seductive allure of the Orient.
Ethnomasquerade was neither Montagu's invention nor reserved for women
as an exclusive form of travel. For centuries, the strategy of dressing in indige
nous clothes, growing beards, and shaving heads was recommended as an appro
priate or safer way for men to travel through the Orient.10 However, Montagu's
Turkish Embassy Letters became the template for European women's journeys to
the Orient. Following in her footsteps and her practice of ethnomasquerade,
travelers such as Julia Sophia Pardoe in the nineteenth century and the British
journalist Grace Ellison in the early twentieth century claimed to have entered
and experienced firsthand segregated and sacred Muslim spaces.11 Each of these
incognito in public,22 Ellison condemns the veil for a number of reasons. Fir
she claims, it does not offer protection from men's sexual desire but rather in
sifies the attraction; second, the veil "dispenses women from taking responsi
ity for their actions."23 In Ellison's view, the veil is not only a threat to the "path
virtue" but also an obstacle to becoming an accountable citizen. Ellison ackn
edges that women played a role in the revolution of 1908 by obscuring lett
under their garments but does not believe this capacity to be sufficient to suppor
the veil.
Several times Ellison's ethnomasquerade is put to the test. One of her high
lights in this regard is her disguise as a Muslim to enter the holy tomb of Eyoub
(Eyup), a place that is all the more beautiful to her "because of the difficulty of
seeing it" as a Christian. Her masquerade does not involve the added excitement
of cross-dressing as in Pardoe's case, but it is nevertheless depicted as a danger
ous venture where a Christian in disguise could be "torn into pieces." Under these
supposedly extreme conditions, Ellison tests the credibility of her performance.
When she discloses her identity to the Hodja—a functionary in the mosque—
her claim to have passed as a Muslim in the tomb becomes questionable. His all
embracing response "There are no Giaours in our religion" creates doubt about
the credibility of her performance. The test must be renewed, this time outside of
the tomb in front of English tourists, to whom she is introduced as a Turkish
woman: "I felt just a little guilty at their delight in meeting a real Turkish woman,
but it was too dangerous to undeceive them in those fanatical surroundings." The
scene discloses once again the fact that the credibility of her ethnomasquerade
does not hinge upon passing among natives. Her fellow citizens constitute the
main audience of her ethnoreligious performance and are the ones who ulti
mately affirm its credibility.
If reenactment cannot ensure knowledge of the Other, the question remains
as to what in fact constitutes the thrill of masquerading as an Oriental. In my view,
it is—as evident in Montagu, Pardoe, and Ellison—the sexual frisson at home
that propels the masquerade. The performance of heterosexuality is central to
Montagu's fascination with the possibility of arranging secret liaisons when
veiled, as well as Pardoe's account of cross-dressing for a visit to Saint Sophia/Aya
Sofya, and Ellison's encounter with Englishmen in Istanbul. With respect to the
specific cases of British women I discuss here, I suggest that ethnomasquerade nei
ther guarantees meaningful knowledge about the Other nor functions as a figure
of subversion. Rather, ethnomasquerade is a literary trope that reaffirms the East
West dichotomy and religious divide and, moreover, functions as a spectacle of
heterosexuality in order to fend off lesbian desire in an all-female Oriental world.
gest that there was a decisive shift in knowledge making in the beginning of the
twentieth century when European powers competed over the dissolving
Ottoman Empire. These autoethnographic texts are evidence of the shifting sub
ject positions in the arena of Ottoman-European relations, including a tendency
toward what I call self-Orientalization. In the following section I discuss this phe
nomenon as evidenced by A Turkish Woman's European Impressions, the letters
Zeyneb Hamm (Hanoum) wrote in English during her six-year stay in Europe
from 1906 to 1912.38
Zeyneb Hamm's letters, edited by Grace Ellison, represent one of the earliest
accounts of Ottoman women to have traveled independently to Europe. Zeyneb
Hamm and her sister, Melek Hamm, were the daughters of Nuri Bey, minister of
foreign affairs under Sultan Abdulhamit, and the granddaughter of Marquis de
Blosset de Chateauneuf, a convert to Islam.39 In 1906 the sisters fled their harem
lives in Istanbul and set off in search of a life of freedom in Western Europe. This
is not a piece of early-twentieth-century Orientalist fiction, as one might think;
rather, it involves an attempt on the part of two highly educated, feminist women
to oppose the absolute rule of Sultan Abdulhamit in the late phase of the Ottoman
Empire. Orientalist fiction in Europe nonetheless did not go unnoticed by the
two sisters. Quite the opposite: what prompted their escape to Europe was the
sisters' engagement, along with a French friend, in a vigorous performance of
Orientalist fantasies of harem life in order to attract the attention of Pierre Loti,
one of the most popular authors of Orientalist literature of the day.
Zeyneb and Melek Hamm persuaded Pierre Loti that a third woman in their
company—a French woman disguised as a veiled Turk named Djenan—had
been passionately in love with him and later committed suicide, apparently of a
broken heart. In carrying out this charade, the sisters responded to Loti's Orien
talist fantasies with a sophisticated concoction of ethnomasquerade and the stag
ing of Orientalist ambience, all informed by a feminist subtext. Loti, who had a
passion for ethnomasquerade himself, did not see through the sisters' scheme.
He was taken in by the three women and became a mouthpiece for Zeyneb and
Melek Hamm's concerns, namely making their oppression in Ottoman society
known to the Western public. Loti was only happy to believe the women—who
never raised the veil while in his company—and he went on to write a novel based
on their reports and meetings.
The result was a literary work that presents a transparent fusion of fiction
with reality; it appeared in 1906 under the title Les Desenchantees and was trans
lated into English the same year.40 In his preface he wrote: "This is a purely imag
inary tale. Any endeavour to find real names for Djenan, Zeyneb, Melek, or Andre
would be a waste of time, for they never existed. The only real thing in it is the
high level of culture now prevailing in the harems of Turkey, and the suffering
which comes of it."41 Loti's attempt to disguise his own identity and those of his
protagonists was soon uncovered after the arrival of the two sisters in Europe. It
was not until after Loti's death, though, that the plot behind the novel, however
real it appeared to Loti, was shown to be fictitious. Marc Helys (pseudonym for
Maria Lera), the author of Lejardinferme: Scenes de la vie feminine en Turquie, dis
closed in 1923 that it was she who had staged herself as the Turkish woman. The
preface begins with the following revelations: "Djenane n'est pas morte. Djenane
n'etait pas Turque. Djenane etait une Frangaise qui, traditionaliste, avait toujours
ete attiree vers la Turquie, notre amie seculaire. C'etait une Frangaise qui aimait
et plaignait les femmes turques, et qui voulut leur faire du bien."42
Once Zeyneb and Melek Hamm arrived in Europe, the French press quickly
picked up the story of the two unusual sisters. Their identification as Loti's hero
ines secured the women's entree into the most important Parisian salons. Both
women spoke fluent French and English and soon began to write for a European
public.43 As will become apparent, Montagu's Turkish Embassy Letters served as a
template for both European travelers—-Julia Pardoe, Elizabeth Craven, and
Grace Ellison, for example—and Ottoman women travelers of the early twenti
eth century: Zeyneb Hamm self-consciously followed the example of Montagu,
her literary progenitor. She wrote:
Over and over again, and always with fresh interest, I read those charm
ing and clever letters. Although they are the letters of another century,
there is nothing in them to shock or surprise a Turkish woman of to-day
in their criticism of our life. It is curious to notice, when reading Lady
Mary's Letters, how little the Turkey of to-day differs from the Turkey of
her time; only, Turkey, the child that Lady Mary knew, has grown into a
big person. . . . There are two great ways, however, in which we have
become too modern for Lady Mary's book. In costume we are on a level
with Paris, seeing we buy our clothes there; and as regards to culture,
we are perhaps more advanced than in the West, since we have so much
leisure for study, and are not hampered with your Western methods.
And yet how little we are known by the European critics! The people of
the West still think of us women as requiring the services of the public
letter-writer!44
I cannot tell whom I have to thank, since the parcels come anony
mously, but several kind friends, hearing of our escape, have had the
thoughtfulness and the same original idea of providing us with hats.
Hardly a day passes but someone sends us a hat; it is curious, but charm
ing all the same. Do they think we are too shy to order hats for ourselves,
and are still wandering about Switzerland in our tcharchafs [veils]?46
Fig. 2. "Zeyneb in her Paris Drawing-Room; She is wearing the Yashmak and
Feradje, or cloak," in Zeyneb Hanoum's A Turkish Woman's European Impressions
(1912). By permission of the Special Collections Department, University of
Iowa Libraries, Iowa City, Iowa.
not completely identify with European culture. The hats from Europeans are
strategic summonses to engage in mimicry of the dominant culture: they are invi
tations to Europeanize extended by anonymous donors, which Zeyneb Hanim
initially accepts, but not without irony. Her letters signal that she could effortlessly
master the use of the European hat, if she only wanted to. Instead, she retains and
reiterates her cultural difference throughout her letters, which she exhibits in this
case through her awkwardness with the hat. Cultural mimicry does not unfold
here as an abiding strategy of resistance.
Zeyneb Hanim fell into the trap of believing that the West could help
improve the conditions for women in Ottoman society. Her collaboration with
Pierre Loti brought her fame in Europe—but nothing but exile from Istanbul. The
alliance with Grace Ellison, the editor of her letters written in Europe, proved not
to be beneficial for her feminist cause either. A review posted in the Times Liter
ary Supplement shortly after the publication of A Turkish Woman's European
Impressions shows how Zeyneb Hamm's thought-provoking letters fell into
empty space, as they were neither part of the Orientalist genre nor representative
of Western feminist literature. Lacking an understanding for the conditions
under which the letters emerged, the reviewer measured A Turkish Woman's Euro
pean Impressions against the portrayal of women in Marmaduke Pickthall's Ori
entalist novel Veiled Women. Compared with the Orientalist novelist who "knows
the soul of the Muslim" and whose "insights into the hearts of Eastern women"
are claimed to be authentic, Zeyneb Hamm's letters can only fall short. The
reviewer asserts that her rebellious character derives not from her Oriental her
itage but from her French origins:
The confusion caused by Zeyneb Hamm's scandalous escape from Istanbul, her
critical letters about Europe, and her unsettling return to harem life cannot be
resolved, as the reviewer bypasses critical information about the reasons for
Zeyneb Hamm's return to Istanbul, namely her forced return upon the declara
tion of war between Italy and the Ottoman Empire. The review empties the let
ters of their historically specific context and maintains the Orientalist image of
the harem.
Pardoe, and Ellison—on the other hand, a demonstration of control over the
threat of transgressing ethnic, religious, and sexual boundaries.
For Ottoman travelers, though, donning European clothing serves different
ends. As I have argued elsewhere, Ottomans staging themselves as European in
nineteenth- and twentieth-century Ottoman travel writing is a result of the trend
to modernize, that is Westernize, the Ottoman Empire.57 In her letters to Grace
Ellison, Zeyneb Hanim reflects on the way she has fallen victim to an Occiden
talist discourse that upholds an idealized image of the West: "You hear so much
of the mirage of the East, but what is that compared to the mirage of the West, to
which all Orientals are attracted?"58 As for most of the Ottoman travelers to
Europe in this period, the West signifies a superior culture; the transgression of
cultural boundaries is not inherently threatening, but rather desirable. Staging
themselves as European is the result of Occidentalism and an expression of shift
ing subject positions due to the nationalist discourse, which emerged in the late
nineteenth century.
To conclude, I stress that there is a relationship between dress and nation
building. Whereas Ottomans staging themselves as Europeans could be seen as
a form of ethnomasquerade, the same practice took on a different meaning after
the foundation of the Turkish Republic. The appropriation of Western fashion in
1925, which followed the ban of the fez, ceases to be ethnomasquerade. The
dress reform, which was initiated to facilitate the identification of the former sub
jects of the empire with modernity and national unity, was thoroughly gendered.
The Panama hat came to signify secular Turkish citizenship and functions as a
metonym for the transformation of the Oriental Ottoman to the Western Turk.59
Today, the fez merely serves as a tool to reenact the Oriental in order, for exam
ple, to attract tourists. The veil, however, never disappeared as a common piece
of headdress in Turkey. When the fez was banned and the Panama hat went out
of fashion, the veil was turned into a signifier for the supposed incommensura
bility between Islam and modern nationhood.
University of Michigan
Notes
This essay has benefited greatly from Vanessa Agnew's ongoing support, critique, and
advice. I would also like to thank Jonathan Lamb, Julia Hell, and the participants of the
conference on Extreme and Sentimental History at Vanderbilt University in April 2004 for
their thoughtful suggestions and feedback.
1. Billie Melman, Women's Orients: English Women and the Middle East, 1718-1918, Sexu
ality, Religion and Work (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1992), 10.
2. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, The Turkish Embassy Letters (London: Virago, 1996),
132.
3. Katrin Sieg, for example, defines masquerade as the "playful site of the inauthentic"
and ethnomasquerade as "the theatrical embodiment of other ethnicities by a subject
that thereby exercises power and simultaneously hides it" (Katrin Sieg, "Ethno
Maskerade: Identitatsstrategien zwischen Multikultur und Nationalismus im
deutschen Theater," Frauen in der Literaturwissenschaft Rundbrief 49 [December
1996]: 20). The idea of ethnomasquerade is closely related to Bhabha's concept of
mimicry. Following Bhabha, mimicry identifies a certain phenomenon of identity
construction in the colonial context—an imitation that is "almost, but not quite" the
same as the original. Colonial mimicry is the desire for a reconstituted, recognizable
Other and constructed around the ambivalence created by the potential eradication
of difference between the original and the copy. Bhabha describes mimicry as one of
the most elusive and effective strategies of colonial power and knowledge making
(Homi K. Bhabha, The Location of Culture [London: Routledge, 1994], 85ff).
4. For a psychoanalytic approach to T. E. Lawrence's masquerade, see Kaja Silverman,
Male Subjectivity at the Margins (New York: Routledge, 1992). For a more recent arti
cle on ethnomasquerading and cross-dressing European men in the Orient, see
Joseph A. Boone, "Vacation Cruises; or, the Homoerotics of Orientalism," in Feminist
Postcolonial Theory, ed. Reina Lewis and Sara Mills (New York: Routledge, 2003).
5. Garber suggests that "Westerners have looked East for role models and for deliberate
cultural masquerade—for living metaphors that define, articulate, or underscore the
contradictions and fantasies with which they live" (Marjorie Garber, Vested Interests:
Cross-Dressing and Cultural Anxiety [New York: Routledge, 1992], 352). Anne
McClintock offers a sustained critique of Garber's argument that cross-dressers are
figures of disruption that question the binary of "male" and "female." McClintock
writes: "Cross-dressing can ... be mobilized for a variety of political purposes, not all
of them subversive. That... cross-dressing disrupts stable social identities does not
guarantee the subversion of gender, race, or class power" (Imperial Leather: Race, Gen
der, and Sexuality in the Colonial Contest [New York: Routledge, 1995], 67).
6. "The lady that seemed the most considerable amongst them entreated me to sit by her
and would fain have undressed me for the bath. I excused myself with some difficulty,
they being however all so earnest in persuading me, I was at last forced to open my
shirt, and show them my stays, which satisfied them very well, for I saw they believed
I was locked up in that machine, that it was not in my own power to open it, which
contrivance they attributed to my husband" (Montagu, Turkish Embassy Letters,
50-59).
7. Ibid., 59.
8. Melman, Women's Orients, 89.
9. For a stimulating analysis of Montagu in the hamam, see the work of Srinivas Arava
mudan, "Lady Mary Wortley Montagu in the Hammam: Masquerade, Womanliness,
and Levantinization," English Literary History 62, no. 1 (1995), and Meyda Yegenoglu,
Colonial Fantasies: Towards a Feminist Reading of Orientalism (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1998).
10. See Jean-Baptiste Tavernier, Collections of Travels through Turky into Persia, and the East
Indies, vol. 1 (London: Moses Pitt, 1684), and Monsieur Thevenot, "The Travels of
Monsieur Thevenot into the Levant," in Navigantium Atque Itinerantium Bibliotheca:
Or, a Compleat Collection of Voyages and Travels, ed. John Harris (London: Thomas Ben
net, John Nicholson, and Daniel Midwinter, 1705).
11. It is interesting to see how Grace Ellisons account of her visit to a Turkish bath differs
radically from Montagu's. In an effort to draw a more realistic than Orientalist picture,
Ellison eschews any heterosexual interest and lesbian allusions in her account of her
visit to the hamam—to the point that it becomes overtly discriminatory. Her descrip
tion not only denies the presence of any naked or half-naked beauty but also leaves
out any references to her own body. She writes: "Fat old ladies in gaudy-coloured
tunics sit huddled up in corners singing contentedly, others walk about, dragging
their clogs over the baking marble floors, whilst little girls and boys, with wine flasks
tied round their waists in the place of lifebelts, swim about the fountains like little
brown fishes" (Ellison, An Englishwoman in a Turkish Harem [London: Methuen,
1915], 146).
12. For a discussion of the function of citation in travel literature, see Donna Landry's arti
cle on Montagu and Craven. She writes that "views of Anglo-American women trav
elers to Turkey have been remarkably repetitive since Lady Mary Wortley Montagu,
[... but as there] is no repetition without differences, subsequent travelers have often
prided themselves upon correcting the reports and views of previous travelers. Mon
tagu claims to correct George Sandys, Paul Rycaut, Jean Dumont, and Aaron Hill;
Elizabeth, Lady Craven, asserts that she, in turn, is correcting Montagu.... Despite
this constant repetition and correction, however, British and American travelers write
as if they were the first to ever to experience Turkey properly" (Landry, "Love Me, Love
My Turkey Book: Letters and Turkish Travelogues in Early Modern England," in Epis
tolary Histories: Letters, Fiction, Culture, ed. Amanda Gilroy and W M. Verhoeven
[Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 2000], 52).
13. John Norton, "Faith and Fashion in Turkey," in Languages of Dress in the Middle East,
ed. Nancy Lindisfarne-Tapper and Bruce Ingham (Surrey: Curzon Press, 1997), 153.
14. Julia Pardoe, The City of the Sultan; and Domestic Manners of the Turks, in 1836, vol. 1
(London: Henry Colburn, 1837), 6-7.
15. Dress is a common signifier of tradition, change, progress, inferiority, or failure in imi
tating Western civilization in travel literature. The Ottoman clothing reforms
attracted the attention of European travelers, who used the success of the dress reform
(or lack thereof) as a yardstick of Ottoman civilization. Bayle St. John, for example,
discussed the weakened position of the Ottoman Empire at the height of the
Ottoman-Russian conflict. His book The Turks in Europe: Sketch of Manners and Poli
tics in the Ottoman Empire (1853) mounts a devastating commentary on the inability
of the Ottomans to correctly don European dress and move appropriately in it. On
the substitution of the turban for the fez, St. John wrote that the barbaric character of
the Turks—hitherto hidden by the turban and Muslim clothing—was only now fully
revealed. Nor did St. John have any confidence in the progressive students of the time:
he condemned them outright for their chameleonic assimilation of European culture.
What St. John observed as the Muslim Ottomans' clumsiness with European cloth
ing only reinforced his conviction that Muslims were inferior and Christians superior:
"The horde of barbarians which of old threatened to overrun Europe and submerge
its civilisation... retain now scarcely a trace of their former character The domi
42. "Djenane is not dead. Djenane was not Turkish. Djenane was a French woman, a tra
ditionalist, who had always been attracted by Turkey, our secular friend. She was a
French woman who loved and pitied Turkish women, and who wanted to do them
good" (Marc Helys, Le Secret Des "Desenchantees," 2d ed. [Paris: Perrin, 1926]). Marc
Helys's other book, Lejardinferme: Scenes de la vie feminine en Turquie, was published
two years after Loti's Les Desenchantees (Helys, Lejardinferme: Scenes de la vie feminine
en Turquie [Paris: Plon-Nourrit, 1908]).
43. Melek Hantm collaborated with Grace Ellison and wrote the story of an Ottoman
princess: Melek Hanoum and Grace Ellison, Abdul Hamid's Daughter: The Tragedy of
an Ottoman Princess (London: Methuen, 1913).
44. Zeyneb Hanoum, A Turkish Woman's European Impressions, ed. Grace Ellison (London:
Seeley, Service & Co., 1913), 38-39.
45. Grace Ellison, "Introduction," in A Turkish Woman's European Impressions, xv.
46. Hanoum, Turkish Woman's European Impressions, 66.
47. Edward Said, Orientalism (New York: Vintage Books, 1979), 3.
48. Halil Inanctk's extensive study of the Ottoman Empire views "Ottomans as agents
capable of independent and internally consistent actions and not, as had been the
case for too long, as passive spectators of a European drama" (Halil Inancik, An Eco
nomic and Social History of the Ottoman Empire, Volume One: 1300-1600 [Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1999], 3).
49. Reina Lewis argues that Zeyneb Hamm's clothing in the frontispiece of the book looks
like Oriental drag, as it was both unnecessary and uncommon to wear a veil
indoors—hence this dress becomes a form of historical reenactment. See Lewis's "On
52. Grace Ellison, Turkey to-Day (London: Hutchinson & Co., 1928), 120.
53. Scholars such as Bernard Yeazell, Yeshim Ternar, Orhan Kologlu, and Reina Lewis
have dealt with Zeyneb Hanim's work, and given her credit as one of the very few
Ottoman women to write for a European public. See Kologlu, Loti'nin Kadmlan:
Osmanlt Hareminin Gizemli Dunyasi (Istanbul: Dunya Yaymcilik, 1999), Lewis, "On
Veiling, Vision and Voyage," Yeshim Ternar, The Book and the Veil: Escape from an Istan
bul Harem (Montreal: Vehicule Press, 1994), and Ruth Bernard Yeazell, Harems of the
Mind: Passages of Western Art and Literature (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press,
2000).
54. A translation of Melek Hanim's and Grace Ellison's book on Sultan Abdulhamit's
daughter appeared in 1938: Abdulhamidin km: Hakikt roman, trans. Irfan Konur Gur
gen (Istanbul: Hilmi Kitabevi, 1938). Ellison's "An Englishwoman in Angora" was
published in Turkish in 1999 (Ankara'da bir Ingiliz Kadim, trans. Osman Olcay
[Ankara: Bilgi Yayinevi, 1999]), and Zeyneb Hanim's letters in 2001 (Zeynep Hamm,
Ozgiirluk pe$inde bir Osmanli kadim, ed. Ellison, trans. Nuray Fincanoglu [Istanbul:
Biike, 2001]).
55. See Landry, "Love Me, Love My Turkey Book," and Lewis, "On Veiling, Vision and
Voyage."
56. The photograph of Melek appears as the last of twenty-three illustrations in A Turkish
Woman's European Impressions.
57. Konuk, '"Meine Herren, das nennt man einen Hut.'"
58. Hanoum, Turkish Woman's European Impressions, 186.
59. For an extensive discussion of the dress reform, see Nancy Lindisfarne-Tapper and
Bruce Ingham, eds., Languages of Dress in the Middle East (Surrey: Curzon Press,
1997).