Meteliksiz Aşıklar (Անկուտի սիրահարներ | Angudi Siraharner) by Zaven Biberyan

I am a new, and quite slow, learner of the Western Armenian language, but one of the dreams that motivates me is that when I manage to learn it, I will be able to read Zaven Biberyan in his original Armenian! In this short piece here I would like to talk about Biberyan’s Meteliksiz Aşıklar which I read in Turkish, and which was published by Aras Publishing House.

Zaven Biberyan has recently started to gain a reputation as one of modern Armenian literature’s best novelists. In addition to his novelistic talent, Biberyan was also a great narrator and indeed chronicler of Armenians’ tragic past, while his character-centred focus produced deep descriptions of the emotions aroused by a continued witnessing of ongoing political disasters. Sadly, Zaven Biberyan was long neglected as a novelist, sharing the fate of many other great writers, enjoying fame only after death. As we learn from his biography and from the preface by Marc Nichanian in the book, Zaven Biberyan lived through difficult times, as an Armenian, a left-wing journalist, and as far as we understand from his life, his unflinching, outspoken criticism of all established values in the defence of human rights.

Zaven Biberyan was born in 1921 in İstanbul and died there on 4 October 1984. He was buried in the intellectuals’ section of Şişli Armenian Cemetary. Meteliksiz Aşıklar narrates the landscape and people of İstanbul without nostalgia, being a novel that shows how people experience the life of the city, seen through the lenses both of a comparison to small-town life and the perspective of a 19th years old Armenian man. The anger, frustration and stasis of Biberyan’s characters makes the novel a difficult emotional experience. However, Biberyan never takes the reader into mere pessimism but appreciates the simplicity of happiness amid the pressures of conventional social values and the vulnerability of his own identity. 

Meteliksiz Aşıklar doesn't have much of a plot beyond the complications surrounding 19-year-old Armenian Sur’s love for Norma, his older girlfriend, but its main purpose is as drawing a picture of the 1950s in Turkey and it also mentions the Varlık Vergisi (Wealth Tax) which was imposed on non-Muslim citizens in Turkey in 1942 and the 6-7 September pogrom on non-Muslim communities in Istanbul. It is a great pity that no English translation exists alongside its French, Turkish, and Armenian versions. Zaven Biberyan’s rich social tapestry seems almost to anticipate a future viewpoint. Sur’s struggle with masculine adulthood also acts as a description of life as a young Armenian in İstanbul, which criticises all of society’s moral values and sacred virtues. Those who can read him in Armenian can buy its e-book version from Aras Publishing House, but below is my translation from the Turkish:

It was a wonderful thing to lie so carefree without looking around every minute with beating heart, without incident, without anxious expectation of constant disaster. Not being nervous. Being comfortable, having peace of mind ... Not feeling guilty, not being anxious because of a non-criminal act ... There are countries in the world where no one looks at people who hug each other, no one accosts them because they kiss, and no one attacks them when they are alone.”

We still do not know, Sur, what country might give you this, but Biberyan beautifully imagines your moment with Norma on the island. As you say to each other later, “How nice it is to know that you have a friend around and not to be afraid"...

I wish that Sur and Norma’s dream comes true for everyone who looks at the blue sky where the seagulls pass… without fear but with love and friendship…

And I wish to have Biberyan’s book translated into English and many other languages as well. 


Other notable works by Biberyan include: 

  • The Dawn of the Ants/ Mırçünneru verçaluysı/ Karıncaların Günbatımı

  • Lıgırdazı, Yalnızlar 


e-book link: https://www.arasyayincilik.com/urun/անկուտի-սիրահարներ/

Written by Şahika Erkonan

Originally written for Zanazan Magazine Issue 2

Three Apples Fell from the Sky by Narine Abgaryan

Anatolia Sevoyants, the 58-year old librarian of Maran, is convinced she’s going to die soon. And while you spend the first chapter worrying about her and getting to know her simple, ascetic home - the author Narine Abgaryan transports you to this remote and fictional Armenian village, to meet its dwindling population. Every single home in Maran has its story – sometimes sad, sometimes funny, every single character is memorable and different, but they’re all tied with the scars of a war and famine. Narine Abgaryan doesn’t place the village and the events anywhere geographically and historically specific. It can be any conflict-ridden part of the world, and any war and genocide. Only her colourful language - dropping an odd Armenian word in her own sweet-sounding Tavush dialect -connects Maran to the high and misty mountains in the northern part of Armenia.

‘Three Apples Fell from the Sky’ has been compared to ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’, for its structure, vibrant characters, skilfully embroidered with magical realism and historical references. The book made me also think of Hrant Matevosyan’s writing – warm, inviting storytelling and deeply emphatic look at the life in an isolated Armenian village.

Moscow-based author writes in Russian and the recent excellent translation by Lisa Hayden made the book available to the English-language readers. While the book borrows its title from an old Armenian saying, usually following fairytales (Three apples fell from the sky: one for the storyteller, one for the listener, and one for the eavesdropper), its also is a serious examination of the cruelty and devastation of the war, tragically very relevant to Armenia and Narine’s beloved Tavush today.


Translated by Lisa C. Hayden, Oneworld Publications, 2020

Written by Tatevik Ayvazyan

Originally written for Zanazan Magazine Issue 1