Süleyman Pasha； into whose service he’d managed to enter。 Four years later；
when Our Sultan died； and with the ascension of Sultan Mehmed； who turned
his back entirely on all artistry； Black’s enthusiasm for illumination and
painting turned from an openly celebrated pleasure into a private secret
pursued behind closed doors。 There were times when he’d open one of the
books left to us by my father； and stare； guilty and sad； at an illustration made
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during the era of Tamerlane’s sons in Herat—yes； Shirin falling in love with
Hüsrev after seeing his picture—not as if it were part of a happy game of
talent still being played in palace circles； but as if he were dwelling upon a
sweet secret long surrendered to memory。
In the third year of Our Sultan’s reign； the Queen of England sent His
Excellency a miraculous clock that contained a musical instrument with a
bellows。 An English delegation assembled this enormous clock after weeks of
toil with various pieces； cogs； pictures and statuettes that they brought with
them from England； erecting it on a slope of the Royal Private Garden facing
the Golden Horn。 The crowds that collected on the slopes of the Golden Horn
or came in ca？ques to watch； astonished and awed； saw how the life…size
statues and ornaments spun around each other purposefully when the huge
clock played its noisy and terrifying music； how they danced elegantly and
meaningfully by themselves in time to the melody as if they were creations of
God rather than of His servants； and how