Yaza Yolculuk - Tomris Uyar itibaren Yapı Kredi Yayınları içinde LIT biçim

Gustavo Pimentel gustavopimentel — I’m doing some early research for a possible creative non-fiction book about gaming addiction. I spent my childhood hooked on Sega Mega Drive and Playstation games, withdrawing from the outside world into a realm of spinning hedgehogs and spinning bandicoots. I can relate, then, to the author of this memoir, who spent his teenhood hooked on Dungeons & Dragons. The central difference between an addiction to an RPG like this and video games is human contact. The RPG involves interacting with other people, being very theatrical and confident in yourself. The video game supports a withdrawal into isolation. Partly since my experience was much less colourful than his, I find it hard to take his addiction seriously. What he describes is a strange and funny childhood: intense, certainly, but hardly traumatic and sad. I understand his disappointment in real life vs. the fantasy world, but you have to wonder at his lack of any self-control. (Did his parents even care?) For the most part he is allowed to run free and his behaviour goes ludicrously unchecked. An absence of any self-consciousness seems to have hurt him in his post-D&D years. Anyway: this isn’t a very well-written book. Too much psychiatric couch analysis, off-hand anecdotal pub-fodder, and a general tone of wistful regret and self-doubt strip the work of narrative oomph. A little passion and flavour would help save the book from its tone of a depressed stand-up comic riffing on his youth in some smoky pub. I haven’t read his fiction books, but you would expect more from a writer’s memoir.

Boris Baklanov borisbak — Ma shaa Allaah this book is good because they include real life accounts and advice from sisters who are in polygynous marriages, rather than just covering the rulings of polygyny

Gabriela Bibini gabrielabibini — This book reads like a mashup of a few other young YA novels to me, meaning it doesn't feel very original, and the plot is a bit ludicrous. The writing, though, is so original and clever and the kingdom's history so well laid out and explained that combined they prevent any melodrama. First, the writing: Fly by Night flows smoothly, yes, but it also showcases a uniquely twelve-year-old experience. Hardinge removes her perspective so completely from the novel that she manages to create characterization through word choice. The novel never lets you forget, through its very words, that this is its protagonist's story. This is seen most cleverly through use of metaphor and simile, which themselves depict Mosca's age and range of experience: The jokes they exchanged were like clods of earth thrown at the face, mean good-humoredly - but meant to bruise as well. ...Mosca felt less alone. It was a strange and shiny new feeling, and she decided not to think about it too hard, in case she wore the paint off it. The kingdom's history is wonderfully done as well, rich in metaphor and completely believable. It evokes the French Revolution with its descriptions of terror and wanton death, tyranny and rebels. Some of the novel's strongest writing describes the evolution of the kingdom's religion. Afterward it was hard to be sure exactly when the sublime light had dazzled their minds and driven them mad, since they went insane with such calm and dignity that nobody noticed. The ways Hardinge uses words and multiple meanings to create layers is nothing short of brilliance. One can read the book for the writing alone. An added benefit, though, is the book's description of the discovery of truth and the ways it can be hindered and spread. The discovery of the importance of both freedom of speech and of the press. The discovery that people are never what they seem and that they can be more complex than ever imagined. That not even smart twelve-year-olds can foresee everything or always be correct. All this in a highly entertaining, potentially ridiculous but ultimately wonderful story.