You're inside the minds of three generations of the Darvinoglu family, haunted by the impossibility of righting wrongs done by and to the dead. You feel the pain of the grandmother, hating the token respect given her, and the tortured adolescence of the young, torn by the demands of sexuality, parental pressure and extreme politicisation.
I thought, Maybe I just won't do it. I'm not that kind of person! But then they'll say that he couldn't even get the newspaper out of the Communist girl's hand, let alone rip it up! They may even say, Well, he used to be an nationalist, but now he's a Communist; watch out for that Hasan Karatas from Cennethisar, don't let him into your group! But I'm not afraid of being isolated, I'll do big things on my own, they'll see.