My late father-in-law left a collection of crime novels and science fiction in what is now my wife's summerhouse, and instead of lugging seven or eight books here and back again, I've begun to instead make a point of going through this small library.
I'd hoped that this 'historical' and 'exotic' novel would be a more intelligent mystery than it turned out to be. Alas, due to its shifting narrative perspective, there's never much mystery to what's going on. On the other hand, the author tries to keep suspense going by the old trick of ending each short chapter on a cliffhanger and then jumping to another thread of the narrative. When done right, this can be an extremely effective way to produce a genuine pageturner, but here, it just wore me down. Every chapter seems to end with a scream, someone entering with blood on their clothes, or passing out, etc. At the end, my reaction to most of these events were incredulity: Oh, for fucks sake, just get it over with already!
In general, I had trouble with suspension of disbelief. The book seems to be well-researched, I suppose, and I can't say that I know much about 1840s Istanbul, but even so, I found most of the characters and their actions unbelievable. This also extends to the plot and the final twist, which struck me as implausible.