ORHAN’S INHERITANCE
A #1 Indie Next Pick
A Library Journal Editor’s Pick
A B&N Discover Great New Writers Selection
When Orhan’s brilliant and eccentric grandfather,
who built a dynasty out of making kilim rugs, is
found dead, submerged in a vat of dye, Orhan
inherits the decades-old business. But his
grandfather has left the family estate to a stranger
thousands of miles away, Seda, an aging woman in a retirement home in
Los Angeles.
A #1 Indie Next Pick
A Library Journal Editor’s Pick
A B&N Discover Great New Writers Selection
When Orhan’s brilliant and eccentric grandfather,
who built a dynasty out of making kilim rugs, is
found dead, submerged in a vat of dye, Orhan
inherits the decades-old business. But his
grandfather has left the family estate to a stranger
thousands of miles away, Seda, an aging woman in a retirement home in
Los Angeles. Over time, Orhan begins to unearth the story that eightyseven-
year-old Seda so closely guards–a story that, if it’s told, has the
power to undo the legacy upon which Orhan’s family is built and could
unravel Orhan’s own future.
Moving between the last years of the Ottoman Empire and the 1990s,
Orhan’s Inheritance is a story of passionate love, unspeakable horrors,
incredible resilience, and the hidden stories that haunt a family.
- Algonquin Books
- Paperback
- January 2016
- 352 Pages
- 9781616205300
- Algonquin Books
- Hardcover
- April 2015
- 352 Pages
- 9781616203740
About Aline Ohanesian
Aline Ohanesian is a grandchild of Armenian
Genocide survivors. Their story was the inspiration for her first novel,
Orhan’s Inheritance, which was a finalist for the PEN/Bellwether Prize for
Socially Engaged Fiction. She lives in San Juan Capistrano, CA, with her
husband and two children.
Praise
“A remarkable debut novel that exhibits an impressive grasp of history as
well as narrative intensity and vivid prose.”—Minneapolis Star Tribune
“Rich, tragic, compelling, and realized with deep care and insight.”—Elle
“A breathtaking and expansive work of historical fiction and proof that the
past can sometimes rewrite the future.”—Christina Baker Kline, author
of Orphan Train
“A harrowing tale of unimaginable sacrifice . . . A novel that delves into
the darkest corners of human history and emerges with a tenuous sense of
hope.”—Kirkus Reviews, starred review
Discussion Questions
Setting plays such a significant role in Orhan’s Inheritance.
How do the two settings, Karod village in Turkey and
the Ararat Home in Los Angeles, affect the characters?
Why do you think Kemal dies the way he does? What is
the symbolism of the vat of dye?
Orhan’s early photography was so focused on abstraction that he
failed to see the world around him clearly. How does Orhan’s early
photography compare with his later work, when he takes up the
camera again? In what way does he see the world differently?
Do you think words construct meaning differently than visual images
do, whether drawn or photographed?
How are Orhan and Seda similar when it comes to their relationship
with their pasts? What is Ani’s perspective on the past? What do you
think these characters learn from one another?
Lucine’s father, Hairig, defines strength as adaptability. How would
you describe Lucine’s strength? What are the qualities that help her
survive this ordeal?
At what point does Seda stop speaking? Why do you think she makes
this choice?
Do your feelings about Fatma change in the course of the novel?
If so, how?
Why does Lucine feel that she and Kemal can never be together?
There are many instances of individual and collective guilt in the story
as exemplified in the war scenes with Kemal and his soldier friends.
Do you think there’s such a thing as collective guilt? If so, is it easier to
bear and what are its effects?
Once Orhan knows about his family’s and country’s history, how do
you think he should respond? Do you think he’s done enough by the
end of the novel?
Much of the novel grapples with the power of words as well as their
insufficiency. How important are the words we use to describe
someone or something? Why does it matter what Orhan calls Fatma
or whether we call what happened in 1915 a genocide?