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The Armenian Weekly On-Line
80 Bigelow Avenue
Watertown MA 02472 USA
(617) 926-3974
[email protected]
http://www.ar menianweekly.com
The Armenian Weekly; Volume 73, No. 34; August 25, 2007
Literature and Arts:
1. Mating Habits of the Morally Spotted Yuppie
Berberian's Novel 'Das Kapital' is Apocalyptically Chic
By Andy Turpin
2. Grateful Animals
New Children's Book Gives Mother Nature Her Due With a Lesson on Just
Reciprocity
By Andy Turpin
3. Morgenthau's Wife Arrives
By Kay Mouradian
***
1. Mating Habits of the Morally Spotted Yuppie
Berberian's Novel 'Das Kapital' is Apocalyptically Chic
By Andy Turpin
WATERTOWN, Mass. (A.W.)-Viken Berberian's Das Kapital: A Novel of Love and
Money Markets is a literary triumph in its poignancy and descriptive
realism. Don't blame Berberian, the messenger, for writing about the vacuous
morality and financial decadence that comes from the culture of Wall Street.
It's still a love story of sorts, in the same way that Dr. Kevorkian is
still a doctor. Besides, it takes craftsmanship in this day and age to
create a happy ending from an ETA-esque bombing in post-industrial France.
It rhetorically asks whether using a happy ending with incendiaries makes
Das Kapital more inherently French or American in nature, given the story is
set both in Manhattan and Marseille.
The primary character of the novel is Wayne, a fatalistic hedge fund day
trader on Wall Street whose personal habits and peccadilloes are copycat
doppelgangers of Eaton Ellis's serial killer Patrick Bateman, minus the
oversexed bloodlust.
Wayne instead fills his internal void by speculating on humanity's
miseries-a meticulous process he details to a prospective contractor when he
explains: "Let me tell you what we do here at Empiricus. It's actually quite
simple. We use science to anticipate risk. We believe that there are
immutable laws that govern the market: that the market is prone to crisis
and that crisis piteously tears asunder the social ties that bind man to his
fellow man, leaving no remaining other nexus between men than naked
self-interest."
The author himself spent time working in the fast paced eviscerate world of
hedge fund finance and his acute character observations of the people who
populate this fiscally gluttonous world are as deft in their jabs as
anything Dashiell Hammett or Patricia Highsmith ever wrote.
"Sitting on the toilet, one of his favorite tasks was to identify
high-density cities and measure their distance to regional conflicts. He
would then superimpose all this data on a Treasury curve yield," Berberian
writes of Wayne's workaholic dedication to his profession.
References to ultra-recent technological devices and events are so well
placed that it's hard not to imagine Berberian creating the lines as you're
reading like a CNN news band.
And yet, despite the fact that Das Kapital may fall into the underrated
category of "well-written light reading for the Antichrist," it is still a
love story.
Yet, in a Napoleon-Dynamite age of love stories often written "for the
others," Das Kapital may fall into the niche of being "about the others."
Wayne and the architectural student who is his muse in the story, Alix, are
for the rest of us that atrociously rich and pretentious couple you whisper
about to your friend: "They better know how glad they are to have each other
because no else can stand being around them."
Is that binary romance in the vein of "I've Got You Babe" or Stephen King's
definition of hell as repetition?
But Wayne and Alix are not alone in their e-mail correspondence desires.
Berberian engrosses the reader with the loveable but phantasmically emerging
character of the Corsican, a swarthy former revolutionary who must decide
his own destiny both as Alix's ex-lover and as an ideologue in a world of
moral strip forestry on his home island.
Berberian's Das Kapital answers the heartfelt question of whether everyone
in this life deserves to find happiness in love. But more pioneering is the
new satiric sub-genre the author creates: a mix of Harlequin romance and
what could be best described as the secret diary of Dick Cheney. If only in
his wildest dreams.
------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------
2. Grateful Animals
New Children's Book Gives Mother Nature Her Due With a Lesson on Just
Reciprocity
By Andy Turpin
WATERTOWN, Mass. (A.W.)-Fans of children's author Sona Zeitlian and
illustrator Alik Arzoumanian will be pleased with Abril Bookstore-Publishing's
newly released English-Armenian children's book, Grateful Animals.
Grateful Animals is based on the oral tradition of the villagers of Musa
Dagh. The tales were recounted in the native dialect and recorded for the
first time in Ainjar (spelling?), Lebanon, by Zeitlian. Her previously
published bilingual folktale, The One and Only, was also based on the oral
tradition of Musa Dagh, and was enthusiastically received for its bilingual
and multicultural nature by Saturday schools and English as a Second
Language (ESL) schools globally.
Grateful Animals is a story of a woodcutter who rescues a snake, a monkey, a
lion and a rich merchant-all of whom have become trapped in the same pit.
After being rescued, the animals honorably express their gratitude in a
number of ways. Yet, the merchant fails to fulfill the material promises he
had made to the woodcutter.
When the woodcutter is wrongfully accused of being a thief by the village,
the animals give a court testament to his charity and goodwill. Their
testimony also forces the merchant to finally fulfill his promises.
In this millennial age of rampant corporate greed and environmental
refugees, adults, too, may find comfort in this tale where nature's brethren
serve the poor by keeping the robber barons honest. If only Congressional
oversight committees on business ethics heeded such bedtime stories, too.
For more information, or to order a copy of Grateful Animals, visit
www.abrilbooks.com.
----------------------------- -------------------------------------------------- ---------
3. Morgenthau's Wife Arrives
By Kay Mouradian
(Adrianople, February, 1914)
Two years ago Bulgaria had defeated Turkey in the first Balkan War and had
seized Adrianople. Six months later the military leader of the Turkish Army,
Enver Pasha, led his troops back to Adrianople and retook the territory
without firing a shot. Bulgaria had transferred her army to another front to
fight the Serbs and Greeks in a second Balkan war and now Adrianople had
once again became part of Turkey.
Talaat, Turkey's Minister of Interior, had arranged for the Governor General
of Adrianople to honor and treat well the American Ambassador, Henry
Morgenthau. Talaat also ordered the Governor General to have Turkish
dignitaries in full uniform to greet the ambassador's wife. Realizing that
Morgenthau had an unusual and companionable relationship with his wife,
Talaat wanted her first day in Turkey to be a memorable one.
A long, loud whistle blew as the slowing and steaming train made its way
into the station. Henry Morgenthau canvassed each passing car looking for
his wife as several heads peered out from opened windows. Then he saw her.
She was wildly waving a huge black hat.
He ran toward her, leaped and grabbed her hat and ran alongside until the
train came to a full stop. His face reflected his joy. Wanting to throw
kisses toward her, he restrained his emotions, not wanting to be
demonstrative in front of the Turks.
Hopping onto the train, he rushed to her, held her hands and looked into her
eyes with deep affection. She was as lovely as he had remembered, perhaps a
couple of pounds heavier and a bit greyer in her sable hair, but her face
glowed with happiness. "Josie, I've missed you so," he said drawing her
close for a hug. He planted a quick kiss on her thin lips and helped her off
the train.
Standing on the platform were disciplined Turkish dignitaries in full
uniform watching her every move. "Why are they here?" Josie's voice
reflected certain unease.
Morgenthau smiled. "To welcome you, my dear," he said and walked her toward
the waiting entourage.
"Welcome to Turkey, Mrs. Morgenthau," the Governor General said. Clicking
his heels, he bowed and said, "I hope you have had a pleasant trip so far."
"Yes, thank you."
"I have had the pleasure of entertaining your husband. He arrived yesterday
and it was my privilege to spend the day with him and take him to see my
city. My friends in Constantinople admire him and after spending one day
with him I understand why!" He extended a friendly smile and presented Josie
with a bouquet of flowers. Then he introduced America's new ambassadress to
his staff.
After formal and brief exchanges, the Morgenthaus waved goodbye as they
boarded the train. The Turkish dignitaries were still standing stiffly side
by side on the wooden platform even as the train pulled out of the station.
Settled into the first class compartment and excited at being together after
the long separation, both Henry and Josie continually interrupted each other
as they caught up on news about their children, grandchildren, brothers and
sisters. There was much Henry dared not write in his letters to his wife for
fear the wrong eyes would read, perhaps misread, his observations. He
learned early on that spies in Turkey were everywhere, and this Josie
Morgenthau seemed to understand intuitively. She became fully informed about
diplomatic life in Constantinople by the time they arrived in the
cosmopolitan city three hours later.
Holding his wife's hand and not wanting to let go, Henry Morgenthau weaved
through throngs of people rushing in every direction and led Josie to the
restricted customs area. He opened the familiar door marked private and saw
the portly white haired Schmavonian talking to the Turkish customs officer.
"Josie, I want you to meet the embassy's legal advisor and interpreter and
my good friend Arshag Schmavonian. He is my French-Turkish tongue and he
watches over me like a father watches over a son."
Schmavonian, impeccably courteous as always, clicked his heels, took her
hand and kissed it. "Your husband has been anxious for your arrival, and I
am delighted to finally meet you, Mrs. Morgenthau." Looking into her gentle
blue eyes he said, "Your husband has comprehended the ways of diplomatic
life very quickly and it is my pleasure to be of service to him."
The customs official handed Schmavonian papers which he signed and stamped
with the embassy's seal. Turning toward Mrs. Morgenthau he said, "I may be
your husband's formal interpreter, but I am impressed at how quickly his
French is becoming fluent!"
Smiling at what he knew as a polite exaggeration, Morgenthau bowed and said
in French, "I welcome you to Constantinople my dear wife."
"Oh, Henry," she replied playfully, reaching for his hand as they walked out
the door.
The embassy's Ford Town Car was parked by the curb. "I present to you my
darling wife this American Ford!" He opened the door and gracefully waved
her inside. "It's a pretty decent car. I was pleasantly surprised. It rides
every bit as well as our Mercedes and Packards back at home. As the
chauffeur drove through the crowded streets, Morgenthau pointed to the bay
sprinkled with boats speeding through the calm water, and said, "See the
boat flying the British flag?"
Josie peered out the opened window as a cool breeze washed over her face.
The familiar British flag was fluttering in the wind as the ship slowed its
speed and passed a small fishing boat.
"Take a good look, Josie. That steamer is similar to the one we, I mean our
embassy, will have next month. Did I mention to you that I am planning an
introductory trip to Egypt, Palestine, Beirut and Smyrna on our new
steamboat?" The grin on his face suggested he had revealed a hidden treat.
Josie was at a loss for words.
Schmavonian, sitting in the front passenger seat, turned to face Josie. "To
be precise, Mrs. Morgenthau, the British embassy ship is almost 10 feet
longer than ours will be."
"Yes," but our 50 footer is plenty large to take us around. Besides, Great
Britain is so much older than America she deserves another 10 feet,"
Morgenthau jested.
After crossing the Galata Bridge, they arrived at the embassy and their
daughter, Helen, ran to greet her mother with a loving embrace. Helen's two
young sons racing behind their mother yelled out, "Boobbie, Boobbie."
Picking them up one at a time Josie smothered them with kisses and reached
out to hug her son-in-law. Then, after a quick tour of the embassy and her
living quarters, Josie Morgenthau, now to be called Ambassadress Morgenthau,
was treated to a traditional Turkish dinner at Tokaltians, Constantinople's
finest restaurant.
At the end of this exciting day, Josie was more in need of a good night's
sleep than any more celebrations. Alone in their comfortable bed, she pulled
up the soft down comforter. Happy to be with her husband again, she patted
his hand, kissed him on the lips, rolled over onto her side and fell fast
asleep.
Henry Morgenthau snuggled close to her warm wonderful body and gently put
his arm over her. He felt whole again.
* * *
The next day Schmavonian joined the happy couple for afternoon tea. Now that
Josie had arrived plans for the important Ambassadorial dinner could be
finalized. It was Henry Morgenthau's formal entrance into Constantinople's
diplomatic society, and the invitations and seating arrangements had to
follow an exact protocol.
Schmavonian pulled a diagram from his briefcase and placed it on the table.
"This will help with the seating order."
"Josie, I nearly made a grievous mistake when I arrived. I wanted to
entertain the diplomats and politicians immediately. Fortunately my
knowledgeable friend and interpreter, Mr. Schmavonian, saved me from showing
my naivety. I did not understand that diplomatic protocol called for me to
wait for the first invitation."
"Your husband not only wants to please, Mrs. Morgenthau, but he also wants
to over please!"
"You know my husband well! He is quick to assess people, especially their
honorable side, but sometimes I wish he would look at the condition of the
water before he jumps in."
Morgenthau laughed.
"The dinner is the talk of the town and everyone is anxious to attend,"
Schmavonian said.
Morgenthau turned toward Josie and with a quiet laugh said, "Word around
town has it that I am a personal friend of President Wilson and that image
has raised my prestige."
"That is not the only reason he is joyously welcomed by the diplomats and
Turkish politicians. He is considered a host extraordinaire, especially with
the American community. We are planning another reception for the American
colony.to introduce you.
With an affectionate smile, she said, "I look forward to it."
Ambassadress Morgenthau was about to embark on a social whirlwind she could
not have imagined.
80 Bigelow Avenue
Watertown MA 02472 USA
(617) 926-3974
[email protected]
http://www.ar menianweekly.com
The Armenian Weekly; Volume 73, No. 34; August 25, 2007
Literature and Arts:
1. Mating Habits of the Morally Spotted Yuppie
Berberian's Novel 'Das Kapital' is Apocalyptically Chic
By Andy Turpin
2. Grateful Animals
New Children's Book Gives Mother Nature Her Due With a Lesson on Just
Reciprocity
By Andy Turpin
3. Morgenthau's Wife Arrives
By Kay Mouradian
***
1. Mating Habits of the Morally Spotted Yuppie
Berberian's Novel 'Das Kapital' is Apocalyptically Chic
By Andy Turpin
WATERTOWN, Mass. (A.W.)-Viken Berberian's Das Kapital: A Novel of Love and
Money Markets is a literary triumph in its poignancy and descriptive
realism. Don't blame Berberian, the messenger, for writing about the vacuous
morality and financial decadence that comes from the culture of Wall Street.
It's still a love story of sorts, in the same way that Dr. Kevorkian is
still a doctor. Besides, it takes craftsmanship in this day and age to
create a happy ending from an ETA-esque bombing in post-industrial France.
It rhetorically asks whether using a happy ending with incendiaries makes
Das Kapital more inherently French or American in nature, given the story is
set both in Manhattan and Marseille.
The primary character of the novel is Wayne, a fatalistic hedge fund day
trader on Wall Street whose personal habits and peccadilloes are copycat
doppelgangers of Eaton Ellis's serial killer Patrick Bateman, minus the
oversexed bloodlust.
Wayne instead fills his internal void by speculating on humanity's
miseries-a meticulous process he details to a prospective contractor when he
explains: "Let me tell you what we do here at Empiricus. It's actually quite
simple. We use science to anticipate risk. We believe that there are
immutable laws that govern the market: that the market is prone to crisis
and that crisis piteously tears asunder the social ties that bind man to his
fellow man, leaving no remaining other nexus between men than naked
self-interest."
The author himself spent time working in the fast paced eviscerate world of
hedge fund finance and his acute character observations of the people who
populate this fiscally gluttonous world are as deft in their jabs as
anything Dashiell Hammett or Patricia Highsmith ever wrote.
"Sitting on the toilet, one of his favorite tasks was to identify
high-density cities and measure their distance to regional conflicts. He
would then superimpose all this data on a Treasury curve yield," Berberian
writes of Wayne's workaholic dedication to his profession.
References to ultra-recent technological devices and events are so well
placed that it's hard not to imagine Berberian creating the lines as you're
reading like a CNN news band.
And yet, despite the fact that Das Kapital may fall into the underrated
category of "well-written light reading for the Antichrist," it is still a
love story.
Yet, in a Napoleon-Dynamite age of love stories often written "for the
others," Das Kapital may fall into the niche of being "about the others."
Wayne and the architectural student who is his muse in the story, Alix, are
for the rest of us that atrociously rich and pretentious couple you whisper
about to your friend: "They better know how glad they are to have each other
because no else can stand being around them."
Is that binary romance in the vein of "I've Got You Babe" or Stephen King's
definition of hell as repetition?
But Wayne and Alix are not alone in their e-mail correspondence desires.
Berberian engrosses the reader with the loveable but phantasmically emerging
character of the Corsican, a swarthy former revolutionary who must decide
his own destiny both as Alix's ex-lover and as an ideologue in a world of
moral strip forestry on his home island.
Berberian's Das Kapital answers the heartfelt question of whether everyone
in this life deserves to find happiness in love. But more pioneering is the
new satiric sub-genre the author creates: a mix of Harlequin romance and
what could be best described as the secret diary of Dick Cheney. If only in
his wildest dreams.
------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------
2. Grateful Animals
New Children's Book Gives Mother Nature Her Due With a Lesson on Just
Reciprocity
By Andy Turpin
WATERTOWN, Mass. (A.W.)-Fans of children's author Sona Zeitlian and
illustrator Alik Arzoumanian will be pleased with Abril Bookstore-Publishing's
newly released English-Armenian children's book, Grateful Animals.
Grateful Animals is based on the oral tradition of the villagers of Musa
Dagh. The tales were recounted in the native dialect and recorded for the
first time in Ainjar (spelling?), Lebanon, by Zeitlian. Her previously
published bilingual folktale, The One and Only, was also based on the oral
tradition of Musa Dagh, and was enthusiastically received for its bilingual
and multicultural nature by Saturday schools and English as a Second
Language (ESL) schools globally.
Grateful Animals is a story of a woodcutter who rescues a snake, a monkey, a
lion and a rich merchant-all of whom have become trapped in the same pit.
After being rescued, the animals honorably express their gratitude in a
number of ways. Yet, the merchant fails to fulfill the material promises he
had made to the woodcutter.
When the woodcutter is wrongfully accused of being a thief by the village,
the animals give a court testament to his charity and goodwill. Their
testimony also forces the merchant to finally fulfill his promises.
In this millennial age of rampant corporate greed and environmental
refugees, adults, too, may find comfort in this tale where nature's brethren
serve the poor by keeping the robber barons honest. If only Congressional
oversight committees on business ethics heeded such bedtime stories, too.
For more information, or to order a copy of Grateful Animals, visit
www.abrilbooks.com.
----------------------------- -------------------------------------------------- ---------
3. Morgenthau's Wife Arrives
By Kay Mouradian
(Adrianople, February, 1914)
Two years ago Bulgaria had defeated Turkey in the first Balkan War and had
seized Adrianople. Six months later the military leader of the Turkish Army,
Enver Pasha, led his troops back to Adrianople and retook the territory
without firing a shot. Bulgaria had transferred her army to another front to
fight the Serbs and Greeks in a second Balkan war and now Adrianople had
once again became part of Turkey.
Talaat, Turkey's Minister of Interior, had arranged for the Governor General
of Adrianople to honor and treat well the American Ambassador, Henry
Morgenthau. Talaat also ordered the Governor General to have Turkish
dignitaries in full uniform to greet the ambassador's wife. Realizing that
Morgenthau had an unusual and companionable relationship with his wife,
Talaat wanted her first day in Turkey to be a memorable one.
A long, loud whistle blew as the slowing and steaming train made its way
into the station. Henry Morgenthau canvassed each passing car looking for
his wife as several heads peered out from opened windows. Then he saw her.
She was wildly waving a huge black hat.
He ran toward her, leaped and grabbed her hat and ran alongside until the
train came to a full stop. His face reflected his joy. Wanting to throw
kisses toward her, he restrained his emotions, not wanting to be
demonstrative in front of the Turks.
Hopping onto the train, he rushed to her, held her hands and looked into her
eyes with deep affection. She was as lovely as he had remembered, perhaps a
couple of pounds heavier and a bit greyer in her sable hair, but her face
glowed with happiness. "Josie, I've missed you so," he said drawing her
close for a hug. He planted a quick kiss on her thin lips and helped her off
the train.
Standing on the platform were disciplined Turkish dignitaries in full
uniform watching her every move. "Why are they here?" Josie's voice
reflected certain unease.
Morgenthau smiled. "To welcome you, my dear," he said and walked her toward
the waiting entourage.
"Welcome to Turkey, Mrs. Morgenthau," the Governor General said. Clicking
his heels, he bowed and said, "I hope you have had a pleasant trip so far."
"Yes, thank you."
"I have had the pleasure of entertaining your husband. He arrived yesterday
and it was my privilege to spend the day with him and take him to see my
city. My friends in Constantinople admire him and after spending one day
with him I understand why!" He extended a friendly smile and presented Josie
with a bouquet of flowers. Then he introduced America's new ambassadress to
his staff.
After formal and brief exchanges, the Morgenthaus waved goodbye as they
boarded the train. The Turkish dignitaries were still standing stiffly side
by side on the wooden platform even as the train pulled out of the station.
Settled into the first class compartment and excited at being together after
the long separation, both Henry and Josie continually interrupted each other
as they caught up on news about their children, grandchildren, brothers and
sisters. There was much Henry dared not write in his letters to his wife for
fear the wrong eyes would read, perhaps misread, his observations. He
learned early on that spies in Turkey were everywhere, and this Josie
Morgenthau seemed to understand intuitively. She became fully informed about
diplomatic life in Constantinople by the time they arrived in the
cosmopolitan city three hours later.
Holding his wife's hand and not wanting to let go, Henry Morgenthau weaved
through throngs of people rushing in every direction and led Josie to the
restricted customs area. He opened the familiar door marked private and saw
the portly white haired Schmavonian talking to the Turkish customs officer.
"Josie, I want you to meet the embassy's legal advisor and interpreter and
my good friend Arshag Schmavonian. He is my French-Turkish tongue and he
watches over me like a father watches over a son."
Schmavonian, impeccably courteous as always, clicked his heels, took her
hand and kissed it. "Your husband has been anxious for your arrival, and I
am delighted to finally meet you, Mrs. Morgenthau." Looking into her gentle
blue eyes he said, "Your husband has comprehended the ways of diplomatic
life very quickly and it is my pleasure to be of service to him."
The customs official handed Schmavonian papers which he signed and stamped
with the embassy's seal. Turning toward Mrs. Morgenthau he said, "I may be
your husband's formal interpreter, but I am impressed at how quickly his
French is becoming fluent!"
Smiling at what he knew as a polite exaggeration, Morgenthau bowed and said
in French, "I welcome you to Constantinople my dear wife."
"Oh, Henry," she replied playfully, reaching for his hand as they walked out
the door.
The embassy's Ford Town Car was parked by the curb. "I present to you my
darling wife this American Ford!" He opened the door and gracefully waved
her inside. "It's a pretty decent car. I was pleasantly surprised. It rides
every bit as well as our Mercedes and Packards back at home. As the
chauffeur drove through the crowded streets, Morgenthau pointed to the bay
sprinkled with boats speeding through the calm water, and said, "See the
boat flying the British flag?"
Josie peered out the opened window as a cool breeze washed over her face.
The familiar British flag was fluttering in the wind as the ship slowed its
speed and passed a small fishing boat.
"Take a good look, Josie. That steamer is similar to the one we, I mean our
embassy, will have next month. Did I mention to you that I am planning an
introductory trip to Egypt, Palestine, Beirut and Smyrna on our new
steamboat?" The grin on his face suggested he had revealed a hidden treat.
Josie was at a loss for words.
Schmavonian, sitting in the front passenger seat, turned to face Josie. "To
be precise, Mrs. Morgenthau, the British embassy ship is almost 10 feet
longer than ours will be."
"Yes," but our 50 footer is plenty large to take us around. Besides, Great
Britain is so much older than America she deserves another 10 feet,"
Morgenthau jested.
After crossing the Galata Bridge, they arrived at the embassy and their
daughter, Helen, ran to greet her mother with a loving embrace. Helen's two
young sons racing behind their mother yelled out, "Boobbie, Boobbie."
Picking them up one at a time Josie smothered them with kisses and reached
out to hug her son-in-law. Then, after a quick tour of the embassy and her
living quarters, Josie Morgenthau, now to be called Ambassadress Morgenthau,
was treated to a traditional Turkish dinner at Tokaltians, Constantinople's
finest restaurant.
At the end of this exciting day, Josie was more in need of a good night's
sleep than any more celebrations. Alone in their comfortable bed, she pulled
up the soft down comforter. Happy to be with her husband again, she patted
his hand, kissed him on the lips, rolled over onto her side and fell fast
asleep.
Henry Morgenthau snuggled close to her warm wonderful body and gently put
his arm over her. He felt whole again.
* * *
The next day Schmavonian joined the happy couple for afternoon tea. Now that
Josie had arrived plans for the important Ambassadorial dinner could be
finalized. It was Henry Morgenthau's formal entrance into Constantinople's
diplomatic society, and the invitations and seating arrangements had to
follow an exact protocol.
Schmavonian pulled a diagram from his briefcase and placed it on the table.
"This will help with the seating order."
"Josie, I nearly made a grievous mistake when I arrived. I wanted to
entertain the diplomats and politicians immediately. Fortunately my
knowledgeable friend and interpreter, Mr. Schmavonian, saved me from showing
my naivety. I did not understand that diplomatic protocol called for me to
wait for the first invitation."
"Your husband not only wants to please, Mrs. Morgenthau, but he also wants
to over please!"
"You know my husband well! He is quick to assess people, especially their
honorable side, but sometimes I wish he would look at the condition of the
water before he jumps in."
Morgenthau laughed.
"The dinner is the talk of the town and everyone is anxious to attend,"
Schmavonian said.
Morgenthau turned toward Josie and with a quiet laugh said, "Word around
town has it that I am a personal friend of President Wilson and that image
has raised my prestige."
"That is not the only reason he is joyously welcomed by the diplomats and
Turkish politicians. He is considered a host extraordinaire, especially with
the American community. We are planning another reception for the American
colony.to introduce you.
With an affectionate smile, she said, "I look forward to it."
Ambassadress Morgenthau was about to embark on a social whirlwind she could
not have imagined.