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I have just finished reading the book and love the way Pamuk has played with us to the very end. The book is a bit like the endless reflections you get in a hall of mirrors so that everything is real and at the same time nothing is real.
I need more time to think about it all, but throughout I was struck by a dreamlike quality in the telling of the story, so that things which seemed logical really weren't. And that took me back to desertblues' suggestion that this was all imagined by the Venetian in the moments before he died when his ship was captured.
I love it that there isn't a clearcut solution to the mystery!
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