Drowsing on

Even if one is judicious about one's consumption of turkey, one tends to get stuffed with it. Being too full is an unpleasant feeling to me these days, no matter how fine the food. The condition compels me to work it off. Sushi is about all I can face this evening.
I'm reading steadily into Pamuk's novel The Black Book. It gives me a sense of dreamlike experience, as did his memoir, Istanbul, as did his novel Snow. It's surely partly due to his style, but after reading the Translator's Afterward I happened to espy at the back of The Black Book, I am convinced that the Turkish language, even in translated to English form, also plays an enormous part in the atmospheres of these works. Here's but a sample from the Translator's Afterward:
"There is no verb 'to be' in Turkish, nor is there a verb 'to have'. It's an agglutinative language, which means that root nouns in even the simplest sentences can carry five or six suffixes. ('Apparently, they were inside their houses' is a single word.) There are many more tenses - you use one mode for events you have witnessed with your own eyes, for example, and another for anything you know by hearsay. There is a special syllable you can add to a verb to emphasize the active role someone played in whatever you are describing. The passive voice is as graceful as the active voice and rather more popular, with the result that a fine Turkish sentence may choose to obscure exactly who did what. " And a later bit:"The poet Murat Nemet-Nejat has described Turkish as a language that can evoke a thought unfolding. How to do the same in English without the thought vanishing into thin air?"
I would say that you could ask the same question just in regards to writing in English, never mind any translating...