Aydın Tiryaki (July 1, 2009)

“To Aydın Tiryaki, with friendship, Kemal Özer, 31.3.84 Ank.” he had written on the first page when I opened the cover of the book “Araya Giren Görüntüler” (Intervening Images).

Upon hearing the news of the poet Kemal Özer’s passing, I started searching for his books on the shelves of my library. While looking for them, I was also trying to recall the year I had him sign the book. When I found it and saw the date under the signature, March 31, 1984, I was very surprised. A quarter of a century had passed, yet it felt as if it were only yesterday…

There was a book fair in Ankara, and while wandering around, I saw Kemal Özer signing books at a booth. Back then, there used to be book fairs in Ankara, and authors would sign their books. I didn’t have a habit of getting books signed, and I never acquired it later either. I would pick up a book from the booth where the signing queue was, observe the author for a while, sometimes listen to their conversations with the people getting their books signed, and then leave without getting a signature.

On that day, too, I picked up his book while a few people were waiting in front of Kemal Özer for a signature. He noticed it was his own book and gave a nod of greeting. That was when I realized I should stay to talk and have the book signed. The book was “araya giren görüntüler”. While waiting behind the few people in front of me, I started reading the poems inside. The opening poem of the book started with the lines “Perhaps this book heads then when the phone rang at 8 in the morning” and continued with the lines: “Perhaps this book began then when that question rang out in the voice of a poet’s wife.”

I was stuck on the word “başları” (heads) in the first line. I couldn’t stand typographical errors in poetry back then, and this trait of mine never changed later on.

It bothered me; was it a typo and supposed to be “başladı” (began) instead of “başları” (heads), or was it a play on words that I couldn’t decipher?

Meanwhile, Kemal Özer was chatting with the people getting their books signed. I had made up my mind; as soon as it was my turn, I would point out this mistake immediately. My turn came, and first, he asked for my name. While signing the book, he mentioned that someone with the exact same surname had just gotten a book signed shortly before. He was a fatherly poet, chatting so warmly that I couldn’t bring myself to say “the first line has a mistake,” just so I wouldn’t upset him. For a poet, having the first line of their book misprinted must be heartbreaking.

Years later, in the new edition included within “Çağdaş ve Boyun Eğmeyen” (Contemporary and Unyielding), it was corrected to “başladı” (began).

25 years later, upon receiving the news of his death, I walked through the streets and came home, having decided to write a piece about a line whose misprinted word I couldn’t quite remember, a brief conversation of which nothing remained in my mind except the chat about surnames, and a signed book that I feared I wouldn’t be able to find on the shelves. I found Kemal Özer’s books easily on the shelves, and as soon as I opened the book, I saw the word “başları” and recalled that moment.

Farewell, great poet… Farewell, Kemal Özer…

As another great poet once said: Dying in June is hard… Kemal Özer left our world on the last day of June: Kemal Özer (1935 – June 30, 2009)

Aydın Tiryaki, Ankara, July 1, 2009

| aydintiryaki.org | YouTube | Aydın Tiryaki’nin Yazıları ve Videoları │Articles and Videos by Aydın Tiryaki | Bilgi Merkezi│Knowledge Hub  | ░ Virgülüne Dokunmadan │ Verbatim ░ | ░ Kemal Özer’in imzaladığı kitabı aradım raflarda │ I Searched for the Book Signed by Kemal Özer on the Shelves ░01.07.2009░16.02.2026░

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A Note on Methods and Tools: The original Turkish version of this work was authored entirely by the author, without any assistance from artificial intelligence. (Note: AI was utilized solely as a translation and writing assistant to prepare this English version of the original text.)