Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher, Cranthorpe Millner Publishers, for providing an advance copy in exchange for an honest review.

This was so sweet. I really liked reading about Nick and Ben, as well as Bethany’s case. I usually find it distracting when an author includes too much of the main character’s day-to-day life in the story, but in this novel, I felt like I really got to know Nick—even when he talked about silly little things, like when someone sneezed and he turned his head because he didn’t want to catch whatever the other person had. That detail wasn’t important, and I would usually prefer those tiny things not to be included in the story, but here I actually liked them.

However, I do have a couple of problems with the writing style. In the dialogue, the characters use each other’s names too often. When we’re talking to someone face-to-face, we don’t say their name every two sentences. There were also a few pacing issues. I didn’t like how James Adams’ storyline was concluded, nor how the conflict in the third act was resolved. I found the ending rather weak; however, I would still recommend this book to anyone looking for a romance set in a courtroom setting.

When I saw this book on NetGalley, I was pleasantly surprised and immediately requested an ARC. Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher, Dundurn Press, for providing an advance copy in exchange for an honest review.

Even though I was pretty excited to read this book, I was unfortunately disappointed.

I don’t know whether I’m nitpicking, but there were instances of casual racism in the book. For example, a beggar woman is described as having a northeastern accent. I don’t think someone who has lived in Canada and hasn’t been in Turkey for 15 years could identify a northeastern accent so specifically. Also, this is the first time any kind of dialect is mentioned, and it feels stereotypical. Worst of all, it’s not even correct. Another moment that bothered me was when the main character sees a street painter and thinks they might be Romani, but decides not to assume because it would be rude; and then, a page later, the street painter starts reading her fortune from her palm, which is another stereotype. Something about this just didn’t sit right with me.

Along the same lines, the main character’s interactions with the people they meet during their tour of Istanbul felt ridiculous. People don’t speak like that. Turkish people don’t speak like that. Turkish people wouldn’t point out that someone doesn’t look Turkish because of their pale skin. All of this came across as unrealistic.

I want to go back to the repeated commentary on the main character’s paleness. It was mentioned at least ten times; from a little French boy visiting Galata Tower to the rug seller who gets chastised by his wife. All of these side characters ask why the main character is so white or why they don’t look Turkish. After those scenes, I understood what the author was trying to convey. In my experience, many Turkish people with lighter complexions hear “Oh, you don’t look Turkish” while traveling abroad. This has been said to me dozens of times, often with clear prejudice behind it. There’s a stereotypical image of what a Turkish person is supposed to look like, and it’s usually inaccurate. So it’s not surprising that the main character feels not Western enough, not Eastern enough, and not Middle Eastern enough either. However, these kinds of conversations happen outside the country. Turkish people in Turkey wouldn’t say to each other, “Oh, you don’t look Turkish,” especially not because of skin color — at least not for the same reasons foreigners do. I don’t know what the author’s experience in Turkey was, but I’m not sure we’re talking about the same Istanbul.

The timeline is also unclear, which bothered me quite a bit. Atatürk Airport was closed in 2018, yet it’s referenced in the book. There’s mention of people on buses using headphones, and Assassin’s Creed, which was first released in 2007. The time period matters because Istanbul has been deeply affected by Turkey’s political situation. There were the Gezi Park protests in 2013 and terrorist attacks between 2014 and 2017. There’s also a confusing and frustrating section about Hagia Sophia. The main character notes that it was once a church, then a mosque, then a museum, and says it doesn’t matter what it is now. But its status is highly symbolic. It was a church from 360 to 1453. When Ottoman’s conquered Constantinople in 1453, they changed the church to a mosque. Huge and old religious place in the heart of the city. Very symbolic, right? From 1453 to 1935 it stayed as a mosque. But at 1935 it was turned into a museum by the first president of Republic of Turkey, which is still so very much symbolic! Republic of Turkey is a secular country without an official religion! It was turned back into a mosque in 2020 as a political, populist move. So yes, its status does matter. Reading the line, QUOTE “Ayasofya has had the title of church, then mosque, and even museum. Who knows what she is called now, she is renamed so frequently,” QUOTE was especially frustrating.

I also didn’t enjoy the journal-style writing. The main character constantly tells us what they’re feeling and thinking instead of showing it. This became repetitive and boring for me.

At first, I was excited to see Turkish words included in the text without translation. I liked the idea of a glossary. But it was overused, and many of the words didn’t need to remain in Turkish. For example: balım — “my honey”, şekerim — “my sugar”, tatlım — “sweetie”, aşkım — “my love”, yolcu — “traveler” English equivalents exist and would have worked just as well. Even as someone who understands Turkish, I found it distracting.

I thought I was going to read a story of a flâneur and experience Istanbul through someone else’s eyes. Unfortunately, this book wasn’t for me, and I don’t think it did justice to Istanbul.

P.S. I did like the letter from Efe to Özgür.