In The Myth of the Female Hand: Forms of Female Power, Şeyda Sivrioğlu explores the symbolic representations and the significance of the female hand as a means to open up literary and critical space for the oppressed and marginalized female figure in different centuries and in different patriarchal cultures and genres. Inalterably, in a culture where creativity is defined purely in male terms, women “exist only to be acted on men, both as literary and sensual objects” (Gilbert and Gubar, 8). This comprehensive study, however, traces the origins of the female hand symbolism from a fairy tale to a play-text and finally to a science fiction novel in order to illustrate how, to borrow Margaret Atwood’s words, the hand as an extension of the brain, in this case the female brain, becomes an important tool for indicating the development of the power of women.

Osmanlı döneminde Girit üç sancağa ayrılmıştır: Hanya, Kandiye, Resmo.

Girit’in tamamının fethedildiği 1669’dan zamandan beri siyasî ve sosyal hayatımızda olduğu gibi edebî hayatımızda da önemli bir yeri olmuştur. Osmanlı şehirlerinde cami, tekke ve medreseler Osmanlı kültürünün temelini oluşturmaktadır. Girit’te de edebî ve kültürel ortamı cami, medrese ve tekkeler şekillendirmiştir.  Bunun neticesi olarak Girit’te şair sayısı hızla artmış, zengin bir edebî ve kültürel ortam oluşmuştur.

Yaklaşık 250 yıl Osmanlı-Türk hâkimiyetinde kalan Girit’in bu kadar zaman içerisinde çok şair yetiştirmesinden dolayı bir şiir adası olarak değerlendirilmiştir.

Kâmî, Girit’in Hanya sancağında yaşamış, döneminin medrese ilimlerini tahsil etmiş, uzun yıllar Suda kalesinde gümrük kâtipliği yapmıştır. 1217/1802 tarihinde İstanbul’a göç etmiş, altı ay sonra İstanbul’da vefat etmiştir.

Hanyalı Kâmî,  Adalar, Girit ve Hanya’daki Türk kültürü, edebiyatı ve sosyal hayatı için önemli bir şairdir.

From times immemorial, literature has accumulated a large and varied store of all kinds of general ideas and conceptions, material and metaphysical, to which the masters have recourse the moment the over-exacting and over-restless human voice begins to be heard. This is exactly the point. Tchekhov himself, a writer and an educated man, refused in advance every possible consolation, material or metaphysical. Not even in Tolstoi, who set no great store by philosophical systems, will you find such keenly expressed disgust for every kind of conceptions and ideas as in Tchekhov. He is well aware that conceptions ought to be esteemed and respected, and he reckons his inability to bend the knee before that which educated people consider holy as a defect against which he must struggle with all his strength. And he does struggle with all his strength against this defect. But not only is the struggle unavailing; the longer Tchekhov lives, the weaker grows the power of lofty words over him, in spite of his own reason and his conscious will. Finally, he frees himself entirely from ideas of every kind, and loses even the notion of connection between the happenings of life. Herein lies the most important and original characteristic of his creation. Anticipating a little, I would here point to his comedy, The Sea-Gull, where, in defiance of all literary principles, the basis of action appears to be not the logical development of passions, or the inevitable connection between cause and effect, but naked accident, ostentatiously nude. As one reads the play, it seems at times that one has before one a copy of a newspaper with an endless series of news paragraphs, heaped upon one another, without order and without previous plan. Sovereign accident reigns everywhere and in everything, this time boldly throwing the gauntlet to all conceptions. In this, I repeat, is Tchekhov’s greatest originality, and this, strangely enough, is the source of his most bitter experiences. He did not want to be original; he made super-human efforts to be like everybody else: but there is no escaping one’s destiny. How many men, above all among writers, wear their fingers to the bone in the effort to be unlike others, and yet they cannot shake themselves free of cliché—yet Tchekhov was original against his will! Evidently originality does not depend upon the readiness to proclaim revolutionary opinions at all costs. The newest and boldest idea may and often does appear tedious and vulgar. In order to become original, instead of inventing an idea, one must achieve a difficult and painful labour; and, since men avoid labour and suffering, the really new is for the most part born in man against his will.