Orhan's Inheritance

Aline Ohanesian’s 2015 novel Orhan’s Inheritance recalls an unspoken trauma through two interchanging viewpoints. Although Ohanesian’s work is historical fiction, she has publicly stated that it is loosely based on a story her great-grandmother once told her regarding her experiences in the Armenian Genocide. Ohanesian channels her great-grandmother’s tragic tales as inspiration for a modern recollection of the historic event. She explores this seldom discussed part of the past through the eyes of Orhan, a young and successful Turkish man, and through the memories of Seda Melkonian, an elderly Armenian woman with a mysterious connection to Orhan’s family.

father, commits suicide in a vat of indigo dye at the age of ninety-three. During the service, it is revealed that he left his successful textile business known for manufacturing prayer rugs to Orhan. However, the family estate has been left to Seda Melkonian, a ninety-year-old woman residing in Los Angeles, California.

Orhan, a 29-year-old photographer, travels to Los Angeles with the intention of buying the house from Seda. His father, Mustafa, demands Orhan convince her to sign over the inheritance or he will sue. He finds Seda in a nursing home for survivors of the Armenian Genocide. Seda’s niece, Ani, is an activist fighting for remembrance and Turkish accountability. She’s in the midst of organizing an exhibit to show the transgenerational impact of the genocide. Seda, however, remains tight-lipped about her experiences, and that doesn’t change when Orhan arrives. Instead, she refuses to speak about her connection to his grandfather, signs the papers, and wishes him away.



Orhan, however, feels compelled to stay and learn more about her story. He feels a sense of personal responsibility, and after a bit of prodding, Seda begins to open up. A dual narrative begins, as Seda recounts her memories from Turkey in 1915 through flashbacks. Orhan’s own thoughts and reflections run parallel to her recollections.

Seda, born Lucine Melkonian, was an educated and well-off Armenian Christian. Her father owned a successful textile business where her childhood friend Kemal worked. Her family, however, disapproved of the friendship, as Kemal was Turkish. Despite this, a romantic connection flourished between the two of them, one that was doomed from the start.

Kemal carries Lucine’s handkerchief everywhere, and Lucine carries a drawing Kemal drew of her wherever she goes. When Lucine is fifteen, her family is deported. They are forced to join the death march, where Lucine is separated from her family and endures immense struggles on her own. She witnesses the torture of men and women alike, even the brutal killing of a pregnant woman. Young virgin girls are pulled by their braids at night, starved, and raped. Ohanesian does not shy away from detailing with vivid imagery the violence and trauma that was endured by Armenians.



On the brink of death, Lucine is rescued by Kemal’s Aunt Fatma. She takes her in at the inn where she is a sex worker for servicemen, as she has no other choice. Fatma, who is pregnant (the father unnamed), gives Lucine the name Seda, which means, “echo.” Fatma chooses this name so Lucine can find her voice again.

At the same time, Kemal is serving in the Ottoman military. Although he is not personally killing or deporting anyone, there is a weight on his shoulders for being complacent and involved in the torture of so many innocent people like Lucine. Kemal returns to see Fatma at the inn, and upon seeing Lucine again, proposes that she marry him for safety. She refuses because she can’t abandon her family, and travels to find her brother Bedros. Kemal takes over the abandoned textile business that her father owned and does well for himself, despite this major loss.

Eventually, Lucine — now permanently going by Seda — moves thousands of miles away to Los Angeles. There, she attempts to bury all memories of Kemal, Turkey, and the death marches; she never speaks a word about her experiences until Orhan shows up. When Orhan asks her why she shared her story with him and not her niece, she responds, “She has too much past in her veins and you have none” (293). This is the basis for Orhan’s lesson about himself and his family — it is not fair and he cannot ignore the terrible history attached to his identity. He may not have played a personal part in this traumatic event, but his ancestors did; his grandfather never overcame that guilt. In the novel’s finale, Orhan begins to accept responsibility as a Turkish man for the Armenian Genocide after hearing all of the residents’ tragic firsthand accounts, witnessing the transgenerational effect the event has had on Seda and her niece, and understanding his grandfather’s role in the midst of it all.