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had　a　style；”　said　Black。　“He　taught　me　how　the　hidden　fault　of ”style‘　isn’t

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something the artist selects of his own volition； but is determined by the

artist’s　past　and　his　forgotten　memories。　He　also　showed　me　how　these　secret

faults；　weaknesses　and　defects；　at　one　time　such　a　source　of　shame　they　were

concealed　so　we　wouldn’t　be　estranged　from　the　old　masters；　will　henceforth

emerge to be praised as “personal characteristics’ or ”style；“ because the

European masters have spread them over the world。 Henceforth； thanks to

fools who take pride in their own shortings； the world will be a more

colorful　and　more　stupid　and；　of　course；　a　much　more　imperfect　place。”

The　fact　that　Black　confidently　believed　in　what　he　said　proved　that　he　was

one　of　the　new　breed　of　fools。

“Was Master Osman able to explain why； for years； I drew hundreds of

horses　with　regular　nostrils　in　Our　Sultan’s　books？”　I　asked。

“It　was　due　to　the　love　and　beatings　he　gave　all　of　you　in　your　childhood。

Because he was both father and beloved to you all； he doesn’t see that he

associates　all　of　you　with　himself　and　each　of　you　with　the　others。　He　didn’t

want you each to have a style of your own； he wanted the royal atelier as a

whole　to　have　a　style。　Because　of　the　awesome　shadow　he　cast　over