se eu fosse homem (Chrysopolis, or 'Golden City')

provavelmente faria a viagem, e mesmo assim. o princípio de From Constantinople to the home of Omar Khayyam: Travels in Transcaucasia and Northeastern Persia for historic and literary research de A.V. Williams Jackson, quando um americano era livre de viajar para estas paragens.

ONCE AGAIN EASTWARD HO!

"If you've 'eard the East a-callin', why, you won't 'eed nothin' else."
— Kipling, Mandalay, 30.

A Charity Ball and a journey to the East seem to have little connection, yet so they had in the case of the third of my four visits to the Land of the Dawn. A few words will suffice to explain. It was at the Charity Ball in Yonkers, my home on the Hudson, that I chanced to be talking with my friend Alexander Smith Cochran, about the success which the evening had proved despite the furious storm of snow that raged outside with all the violence of early January. Somehow — perhaps recalling snows I had encountered in Iran — our conversation veered to travel in the Orient, and a moment later we had resolved to take a trip together to Persia and Central Asia, starting in the spring, when travel would be easier in the Province of the Sun.

The weeks went swiftly by, and we found ourselves betimes on an ocean liner, speeding for Europe with messages of bon voyage in our mail — among them Hamlet's wish of *well be with you, gentlemen ! ' There was a spirit of eagerness for the prospective journey which will best be appreciated by those who have traveled in Eastern lands. Hour after hour on board the ship we talked of Persia, Transcaspia, and Turkistan, of India, of Oriental problems, and of Alexander the Great Great, who first threw open the Gates of the Morning to Greece and the Western world. In chats like these, with books and maps at hand, we developed our plans, and gradually laid out the route we wished to follow.

With the Eastern lodestar beckoning, there was little time for tarrying in Paris longer than a single day to complete the * kit ' for our journey and to greet some special friends who were as much interested in the Orient as we. Constantinople was the first goal we had in view, for I was particularly anxious this time to cross the Black Sea on my way to the Caspian, instead of traversing Russia, as I had done on my previous journey to Iran. The close of our busy day of preparations in the French capital found us on board the Oriental Express, booked for the sixty hours by rail to the great metropolis of the Ottoman Empire ; and the third morning following saw us in Constantinople, amid balmy air and a flood of sunshine that lent added sheen to the Golden Horn as it swept past ancient Stambul.

Mosques, minarets, and madrasahs, with touches of color made more brilliant by the shimmer of the blue sea and dazzling Oriental sun ; historic monuments, noble relics of the city's whilom glory as capital of the Byzantine Empire; thronged narrow streets whera hurrying feet can scarce find space to avoid the packs of mangy curs that do duty as townscavengers; busy bazars, shops, and booths with cross-legged Turks ; bridges and boats ; smiling gardens cheek by jowl with dilapidated cemeteries ; towers and cupolas ; terraced heights, laid out with broad thoroughfares and graced by up-to-date European buildings that bear witness to the modern progress of a new regime, ' Young Turkey' — these are the hopelessly jumbled impressions that crowd upon the senses as one first sees Constantinople.

Though in Europe, Constantinople belongs in part to Asia, and travelers who are familiar with types of border cities between East and West know well the pousse cafe effect of such Asiatic-European towns, which take on the composite complexion of the elements that make up the mixture, though the blend is never quite complete. The Turkish capital aptly illustrates the truth of this statement, even if the European tinge tends more and more to predominate over the Oriental tone.

Yet there is something irresistibly attractive about such cities — something easy-going, something truly cosmopolitan. In Constantinople the tourist in white flannels and soft cap, or in frock coat and top hat, passes quite as unnoticed among the motley-colored crowd as does the native with fez, baggy trousers, heel-less slippers, and slipshod gait. No more surprise is shown at, and no more attention is paid to, the latest accepted import of Western civilization than is evinced at the oldest remnant of Eastern custom that has lingered on, caught up in the eddying current of modern progress.

In respect to its location Constantinople occupies one of the most favored and picturesque situations in the world. The Bosporus, the Golden Horn, and the Sea of Marmora unite in giving to it all the maritime advantages that easy access by water can bestow ; and nature has lavishly lent of her beauty to adorn its site at every point. The general topography and the arrangement of the town are easy to grasp. Stambul, the city proper, occupies the jutting peninsula between the Sea of Marmora and the Golden Horn, or practically the position of ancient Byzantium. Galata, lying northward and eastward beyond the golden inlet, and rising toward the hillside, forms a suburban quarter ; whilst Pera, crowning the height above it, stands out as the more European quarter of the town. In the distance to the east, across the Bosporus, lies the old city of Scutari in Asia Minor. This is the Asiatic section of Constantinople, and its site corresponds to the ancient Chrysopolis, or 'Golden City,' (...)

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o livro todo aqui, para comprar aqui.
este livro é, de certo modo, a versão não-literária de cidades invisíveis. a Itália de leste sempre foi um porto de partida para o oriente, curiosamente, (e de chegada) e a sua literatura revela-o.

dormimos, afinal, na golden city, no local onde Constantino derrotou Licinius, onde o cristianismo derrotou os deuses romanos. na nossa história do antigo regime lia-se que Constantino era o imperador que tinha abraçado definitivamente a fé cristã, mas não se falava como nem se referia esta batalha (in the name of the lord), a batalha de Chrysopolis.

por outro lado (numa nota para os cretinos que acham que os miúdos devem 'ir' para cursos com empregabilidade, o que nunca mas nunca pode incluir nenhuma das artes), mil e cem anos mais tarde, Mehmed II conquista Constantinopla e provoca acontecimentos surpreendentes: os sábios, artistas e intelectuais da cidade são obrigados a fugir e a sua fuga veio a resultar na maravilhosa explosão do renascimento italiano.

na wiki: "Map of Constantinople (1422) by Florentine cartographer Cristoforo Buondelmonti is the oldest surviving map of the city, and the only one that predates the Turkish conquest of the city in 1453:"

também da wiki: "Page depicting Constantinople in the Nuremberg Chronicle published in 1493, forty years after the city's fall to the Turks." e onde a expressão 'falls to the Turks' expressa claramente a origem do texto: quem escreveu isto não era turco decerto, nem muçulmano.