Superficially, The White Castle tells the story of a nameless Venetian narrator who is captured at sea, enslaved, and taken to the Ottoman empire. He is eventually given to a man who is his doppelgänger, known only in the text as “Hoja” (or master). The narrator, a learned scholar, teaches Hoja everything Hoja wishes to know. The narrator is primarily interested in knowledge for its own sake, whereas Hoja is primarily concerned with using knowledge for material ends.

An outbreak of plague serves as a catalyst for the increasing tension between the two characters. Post-covid readers will certainly notice some hilariously prescient similarities with their own pandemic experiences. Even when it’s over and the lockdowns are lifted, the narrator, jealous of Hoja’s share of recognition in stopping-the-spread, resentfully insists that “plague is still a thing.”

Years later they're commissioned with developing a large siege weapon to accompany the sultan’s army into the Carpathians. Along the campaign trail Hoja becomes obsessed with extracting confessions from peasants. They lay siege to the white castle of Doppio and ultimately the weapon fails its task. At this point the outward appearances of the two characters had begun to differ, and people can readily tell them apart. The blame for the failure falls on Hoja who flees to Venice, ostensibly taking the narrator’s place there. 

The novel lends itself to multiple interpretations. Did Hoja and the narrator switch previously? Was it actually the narrator who went back to Venice? The text is even distanced from reality by a fictional preface setting it up as a found document in an archive, and a last chapter where the narrator reflects on everything years after the fact. Is this just a fantastical tale of two personalities? Is one of the personalities just a constructed façade for the other?

On a deeper level and along this superficial narrative structure, the novel explores identity, double-consciousness, and dialectics across multiple axes: master and slave; east and west; science and faith; orthodoxy and orthopraxy. Glittering with foreshadowing and symbols, the novel left me wishing I understood Hegel more, if only to tease out some Aufhebung in the metaphorical hall of mirrors.

Curiously, I’ve seen some dubious accusations online that assert Pamuk plagiarized this book, which is hilariously ironic given the book's postmodern symbolic games, and a sure sign that those bringing that indictment never read it.