One of those serendipities in life: I had started reading "My Name Is Red," by Orhan Pamuk. I would read it sparingly, because the writing was incredible and it was a pleasure to just revel on each page; maybe the mystery thriller aspect was not too forthcoming (I find the book still a little on the slow side, of course). In any case, I was about to write wonderful things about the interaction between the original writer (Pamuk) and his congenial translator, a native of Turkey that is to write his first novel.
No sooner do I do this, that NPR announces Mr. Pamuk won the Nobel Prize for Literature. No sooner does that happen, that the government of Turkey issues a statement accusing the Nobel committee to have awarded the prize for political reasons. Turns out Mr. Pamuk is accused of being a treasonous Turkey-slanderer.