Nonfiction, or as they used to say "nonfiction", is one of the most important narrative styles. In this genre, the author sets a story, phenomenon, or concept as a criterion and starts documenting it with extensive research.
Nonfiction, or as they used to say "nonfiction", is one of the most important narrative styles. In this genre, the author sets a story, phenomenon, or concept as a criterion and starts documenting it with extensive research.
The subject of ignorance can be anything; From a historical story to the production process of a giant Airbus. Nadastan strictly adheres to the real data, but the power of the author's language and his imagination can discover aspects in it that are thought-provoking. Many important writers of the world have written brilliant novels. People like George Orwell, Ernest Hemingway, Truman Capote, Albert Camus, David Foster Wallace, Alan Dubotten, Jonathan Safranfoer, Jeff Dyer, Alan Dubotten, Jonathan Franzen, Julian Barnes and...
Important difference between nonfiction and novel It is that the second is completely dependent on the author's mind and the first on the facts. The second creates a new world and the first narrates the real world anew. This genre, with its sub-branches, satisfies many of the narrative concerns of writers who want to have a documentary narrative.
In this article, we introduce important and readable works in this field that have been published in the last two years.
Woman in Berlin
The last major European battle of World War II was the Battle of Berlin. Finally, on May 2, 1945, it led to the fall of the capital of the Third Reich. All that was left of Berlin was ruins, and the survivors of the city, who were mostly women, the elderly, and children, were living in an apocalyptic state. Eat food and you will not die, and they spent their days in the remains of ruined buildings. It was in this situation that the Soviet soldiers occupied the city and added hundreds of survivors to the sufferings of the displaced people. In the eight weeks that they occupied the city, the Russians imposed all their anger and lust on the survivors of the defeat. In the meantime, a woman who was subjected to frequent assaults, in a half-destroyed apartment with several other people, secretly wrote her diaries and recorded the sufferings of those days with a novel-like frankness and transparency. Description of the complex relationship between the Russian military and the survivors of the disaster, group assaults on women, hard and excruciating work in exchange for food vouchers. He shakes his head, stares at me for a moment... and spits in front of the bed, on the floor, in humiliation. He goes after his work. The nightmare disappears. I will fall like a tree stump and sleep for three more hours
- If I stay here longer, I will have more sadness. Stepan feels safe. I look at him in astonishment and in my mind I name him Alyosha, in memory of the brothers Karamazov.
- On the way back, a woman from the neighboring building accompanied us. And he told us that a woman from the neighbors of his apartment had slept with Yem Rous many times. Her husband, who was an employee of the Wehrmacht and was discharged due to a heart problem, shot her from behind when he went to the kitchen stove and then shot himself in the mouth. They have one child left, a seven-year-old little girl. src="https://bingmag.com/picsbody/2208/22861-3.jpg" class="content-pics" alt="BingMag.com Get to know the best books of the unknown; Narrating the world from a new perspective" title="BingMag.com Get to know the best books of the unknown; Narrating the world from a new perspective" loading="lazy">
In the years after World War II, when the world was divided into two camps, East and West, the first and second There were young people who were tired and heartbroken from journalistic fights and ran after every new thought; His motto was escape from everyday life and progress in its common sense. These young people tried to show their appearance contrary to the conventional custom and show unconventional behavior.
They were called hippies; They wore colorful clothes, they were sloppy and untidy in appearance, it seemed that they did not adhere to any order; They were from the sixties; A decade when young people could shut down cities, run after members of bands whose slogan was to find a moment without worrying about the future and the past. One of these young people who did not care about the city and ran away from the norm was Paulo Coelho; who later became one of the most popular writers in the world. Coelho tells about the history of those years in the Hippy ignorance, about the young people who experienced May 68 and stood up to their family and political and cultural systems and paid the price for this rebellion, and now, at the beginning of the seventies, they want to know the world and themselves. They had.
Paulo "Hippy" escapes from South America and arrives in Amsterdam and finds a companion to go with him to the end of the world, the end of the world, the end of oppressive systems; The destination is Nepal and Kathmandu. The route, which is supposed to be traveled by a bus that hosts hippies, passes through various countries. Traveling to the East, crossing the borders of memory and habits for every Westerner It has a strange magic. He should leave home and walk on the road. Ignorance of the hippie hadith is this journey; A journey that is accompanied by overcoming habits and experiencing new and unique moments. The girl in front of him will disappear in a moment or not. He didn't know what to say, the girl had also become silent, and both of them had accepted this silence and kept staring at each other, without actually paying attention to anything.
There were people around them for For lunch, they went to stalls and restaurants. Full carts passed in front of them, but Paolo and Carla seemed lost in thought; Their feelings were in another dimension.
"Do you want to have lunch?" Paolo's take was an invitation and he was pleasantly surprised. He does not understand why such a beautiful girl is inviting him to lunch. Paolo's first hours in Amsterdam had a good start. Paulo didn't plan for something like this, and when things happen without planning or expectation, they become much more enjoyable and valuable; Talking to a stranger without eye contact allowed the romance to flow more naturally. Was the girl alone? How long did he pay attention to her? What did Paolo have to do to keep him by his side? Nothing.
The time for stupid questions was over, and now that he had just eaten, he wanted to have lunch with her. His only concern was that the girl would choose an expensive restaurant, and Paolo had to keep his money for a year, until his return ticket was due.
Pilgrim, your thoughts wander; calm your mind Not all who are called are chosen, and not everyone who sleeps with a smile sees what you see now. Of course, we need to share it together. Even if it is something that everyone knows, it is important not to allow ourselves to be fooled by selfish thoughts that say that we are the only ones who will reach the end of the road. He finds something particularly interesting, and very soon he sees that boredom is killing him. We cannot take the lanterns that light the way and take them with us. If we do, we will end up filling our backpacks with lanterns.
In this case, despite all the lights we have with us, we will still have no company. And what is the use of this? But it was hard to keep calm. He should have written the events around him. A revolution without weapons, a road without border checkpoints or dangerous turns. A world suddenly rejuvenated, regardless of people's age or religion or political beliefs. The sun had come out, as if to say that the Renaissance had returned to change everyone's habits and customs, and one day soon, people would no longer rely on the views of others, but on their own view of life.
Yellow-clad people, dancers and singers in the street, colorful clothes, a girl giving red flowers to passersby, all smiling. Yes, tomorrow will be a better day, despite what was happening in Latin America and other countries. Tomorrow was a better day simply because there was no other option, no way to go back to the past and to once again allow malice, hypocrisy and lies to fill the days and nights of those who walked this earth. He thought about expelling the evil thoughts from his mind in the train and the thousands of reproaches that everyone, both those he knew and those he did not know, were pouring on him.
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About eight hundred years ago The Mongols invaded Iran and caused a lot of destruction. Some fled from their homeland and some stayed and died like Attar Nishaburi; He became a scholar and the only man of the era from the youths who left their homeland and boasted in exile. Rumi was unparalleled in science, jurisprudence and pulpit, and until the arrival of Shams Tabrizi, he was a hot-tempered, wandering, and people-averse dervish. A fire broke out from this encounter that is still standing. The meeting of these two was a new event that still creates stories and legends; Even now, many people are looking into various texts to find out what happened that the scholar was surprised and the restless dervish stayed, or what happened that the city, the master's son and student became angry at the dervish who wanted nothing and had nothing to do but to meet Rumi. Nahal Tadjd, an Iranian writer living in Paris, who previously explored the life and times of Rumi in the book Arif Jan Sokhteh, now reviews the story of Shams Tabrizi in the book Malek Gharesneh. The life events of these two and other events this time are from the perspective of Shams himself. In this story, Nahal Tadjd has tried to create another narrative of that event by relying on the articles of Shams Tabrizi and the poems of Rumi and the book Fiehmafieh, as well as other texts written after those two wise men.
In a part of We read the book of Malek Horsneh:
"If you fit everything in that sea, I would not have a place in Rumi's house." When I found out, I went to Saladin's house. This Salah was one of the few people I tolerated and loved. It was Zurkob in the market of Konya. A strange and somewhat common man. But he was a scholar did not have. Maulana considered him "because he is a secret of secrets." (Divan Kabir, Ghazal 986) Sometimes, "he used to say about his mother and father that they were in Deh Kameleh and were fishing in the Konya region and by its lake." (Manaqib al-Arifin, 2, 706)
One day I was talking to Fatima, the daughter of Saladin. Suddenly, I heard the sound of his screams. "I listened to what he said and with whom he said it." He used to go to Mutawaza to purify himself and say: "Lord! You will not allow me to rest in this place either... I know enough people who burn in your love and do not rest in solitude day and night from austerities and prayers and sleepless nights so that they can be observed, you yourself do not spare them... and you do not pay them half an hour and you do not disturb me in such a place " (Manaqib al-Arifin, 2, 714)
When I returned to the room, Fatima was reading a book. The little girl was used to hearing her father's cry to God. I loved this Fatima very much. It reminded me of my childhood. He spoke little. "Most of the days of Sa'im al-Yum and Qa'im al-Lil, you broke the fast every two or three days... and you saw the unseen figures that are the priests of the heavens, with the head's sight, and you showed your fellow lovers that you were worthy of that state." (Manaqib al-Arifin, 2, 721)
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On the night of August 28, 1357, 25 years after the 1932 coup, in the middle of the events of 5 Ramadan and 17 Shahrivar, in a warm and sultry evening, waiting for the fasting people in the sight of the moon on the night of the 14th of Ramadan, just when about six hundred people were watching Masoud Kimiaei's deer, the smoke and dust and screams of the eternal peace of Abadan city were disturbed; Some people from inside the cinema and others from outside experienced that scene and they both shouted in the same way: "The Rex Cinema is on fire." This news was subject to many rumors during the time when there were many incidents, during the conflict between the revolutionaries and the rulers and the street and media campaigns of both groups; The government at the time blamed it on revolutionaries who were widely known to be against cinema and provoked the reaction of revolutionaries who claimed to observe the halal and haram and the morality of their actions. However, unlike Savak and Shah, the prosecutor and the minister of justice were also afraid of this lie; No one had the courage to follow the raw fantasy of digging the story, contrary to the Shah's order to speed up the case process; The truth, however, became ashes with the victims forever, because none of the other victims were able to testify, and even if someone rose from the dead, no one would know in whose head such a plan sprouted, who accepted it, and in the end, in which hands. He has locked the cinema so that someone else can start a fire; Such a person did not return from the land of the dead, and those who were around this incident were not aware of the truth.
Now after 42 years of that incident, exactly 67 years after the fall of Mossadegh's government at the hands of internal coup plotters. And the foreigner, Karim Nikunazar has written a narrative as accurate as possible in the ignorance of Cinema Jahannam and has received this horrible event from various angles.
In a part of the book Cinema Jahannam, we read:
There are not many documents available about this event. Alireza Davodenjad is one of the first people who made a documentary film with a 16 mm camera in the first days after the fire. The name of his film is a report of the Abadan Cinemarex disaster. He made this film in collaboration with Abadan Radio and produced by Jamshid Elwandi, who was also the director of filming. In this 40-minute documentary, there are first-hand accounts of survivors, witnesses, and officials, and horrifying yet rare images of cinema and the city are visible. However, this film is more of a description of the situation of Abadan in those days and is probably the most important visual document of that time. Abbas Amini, the documentary maker of Abadani, also made a documentary called Qasesa Shab three decades after the event, which tells a story. It is from the memories of the survivors' families. He visited several families and recorded their memories in the form of a documentary report. These painful narratives mostly contain personal information. Parviz Sayad, after immigrating to America, in the late eighties, created a teletheater called Cinemarex's trial, which relied more on rumors and ambiguities, the narrative of the exiles from the event. which made the forces under the rule of the Islamic Republic to be guilty of the disaster. He considers this film a documentary for the past thirty years, but the fact is that its theatrical aspects are more important than its historical documentaries.
In recent years, the documentary network has visited Cinemarex several times. The most important work broadcasted on this network is the movie "The Court" by Cinemarex, which broadcasted it in the form of a detailed series. But these videos have been edited and some of the confessions and statements of the witnesses have been removed. However, the only available footage from the Cinemarex trial is the series broadcast by the documentary network.
In the meantime, the only reliable documents are newspapers that provide more or less detailed reports of the events after the fire until the trial period. . two newspapers, Information and Kihan, on 29 August 1957, Reporters were sent to Abadan and they wrote numerous reports on the state of the city and public protests until the arrest of Ashur. This process was followed more intensively after the revolution; From April 1959 to September of the same year, when the trial was held, both newspapers continuously interviewed the survivors of Cinemarex and followed up news from the city officials. Today's youth magazine, which was edited by R. Etamadi was published, it played an important role in reviving the issue of Cinemarex. The reporter of this weekly newspaper, who was in contact with the Abadan prosecutor, published news about Hossein Takbalizadeh and his escape, and because he was in contact with some of the families of the survivors, such as the family of Compromise, he constantly published their pain. These are the most important sources to know about the whole case, from the incident to the court. Without access to the archives of these newspapers, no narrative of that event would have been possible." Camus
Now a sign has arisen from within the dark stream of time. An accurate clue that someone marked the end of Albert Camus's life.
On the fourth day of January 1960, Camus was on his way back to Paris with his publisher Michel Gallimard and Anne and Jeanine - Gallimard's daughter and wife - as well as Their dog died in a terrible accident. Albert Camus' death is generally considered an accident, but Giovanni Catelli has found evidence that suggests Camus may have been murdered. After years of careful research, Catelli shows why the leaders of the Soviet Union stubbornly sought to eliminate Albert Camus. He raises important questions that may clarify the mystery of the death of the famous writer of the 20th century after many years: How did the KAGB agents know about the return of Camus and his fellow travelers? Was Camus's secretary's phone tapped, or did Maria Casares, his eternal lover, inadvertently cause his death? Did Camus know of his own death when he promised in his letter to Casares that he would arrive on time for dinner on the night of January 4th, "unless something happens on the road"? p> "Albert Camus was a free, rebellious and dangerous man. Dangerous for power, for any power that he exposed its inherent proximity to tyranny and extremism. Dangerous for the guilty conscience of the French and Algerian rebels and former accomplices of the Nazis in World War II and the Stalinists; Dangerous for bourgeois morality and for intellectual society. It was dangerous because he could see everything only through the lens of his critical mind and steadfast honesty and his absolute love for human beings and all life. There were many who benefited from his death and eternal silence: the French nationalists who did not want the independence of Algeria; Algerian extremists who were offended by his moderation towards the fate of Algerian French in the event of Algerian independence; The reactionary forces who saw in him the hero of resistance and leftism, the Stalinists and the Soviet Union, whose violent attack on Hungary caused him to attack them with exceptional courage; The fascist dictator of Spain, whom Camus opposed with his role-playing and public speeches, and scandalized him everywhere so that the West would not accept his presence in international institutions.
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Vladimir Nabokov lived an adventurous life. Someone who was born in the last years of the 19th century and whose childhood memories are tied to the 1950 revolution and his teenage years to the 1917 Russian revolution. Someone who fled his country twice at the very beginning of his life because he was caught in the middle of establishing two hostile regimes. Nabokov's family, who had a position in Tsarist Russia, had to move, although Nabokov's father stayed a little longer so that he could do something. But the comfort of childhood ended and the period of migration, travel, poverty, insecurity and death of loved ones began. In Nabokov's book Speak, the memory of the rewritten autobiography is practically a life spent and loved ones lost. His memories and pictures start from the same year of the first revolution; The early years of the fast-paced and long 20th century; In these purposeful re-creations, he went to the sweet moments and good people in his life, talked about his interests and concerns, and reviewed moments of his past life; In his memory, there are still kind people who spent their lives for their loved ones. Reading these chapters of Nabokov's life gives a different experience of European humanity in the 20th century, a homeless and displaced person who is followed by a whirlwind of adventures and events to throw him from one corner to another and steal his loved ones, but he can write. And he should write.
In a part of the book Speak, we read memories:
"Old and new, the sense of freedom and confinement, deadly poverty and windfall wealth in a surprising way with The taropods of that strange first decade of our century were mixed. Several times during the summer, in the middle of lunch on the ground floor of the Viraman mansion, in a bright, walnut-paneled dining room, Alexey, the butler, with a disheveled face, would lean into his father's ear to whisper softly (very softly, (especially if we had a party) to let him know that a group of villagers want to see Barin outside.
My father quickly took the handkerchief off his feet and apologized to my mother. One of the windows on the west side of the dining room faced the road near the main entrance. You could see the top of the Shung bushes in front of the entrance hall. On the other hand, during the collective greeting of the invisible man with the invisible father, we could hear the polite noise of peasant greetings. The discussion that followed and was delivered in a normal tone could not be heard, because the windows under which those conversations were taking place were covered to prevent the heat from entering. It had to do with a special grant or permission to harvest a little of our land or cut down some of our trees. If, as in most cases, the request was immediately accepted, the first shout was repeated, and then the good rain was waved and thrown into the air in that national tradition, as a sign of gratitude, and twenty pieces of his mighty arm were left safe and sound. In the dining room, they asked me and my brother to continue eating. My petite mother used to look under the table to see if her grumpy dachshund was there. Second hand time
This book is the last volume of the quintet of the Red Book by Svetlana Alekseevich, the Belarusian writer and Nobel laureate in literature. Alekseevich, who had previously dealt with the lives of the former Soviet people with works such as Chernobyl Prayer and War Without a Female Face, focusing on a certain topic, such as the atomic explosion or the Second World War, in the last volume of this series, he discussed the lives of these people after the collapse. Soviet digs; That is, after the end of the false dream of the Cold War and the collapse of the poles in the illusion of eternal enmity, and finally after the collapse of an old building and a high wall in which the inhabitants of half of the European continent, a very large population with various cultural diversity, in an unreal world or They lived a dream and an ideal.
The end of the work of different countries is not the end of the work of the people, they are the people and their memories bother them, sometimes they have a new dream and sometimes they say "sigh" in regret of the past, but their words are summed up in the work. Alekseevich's unique point and technique is his vision. Second-hand time is a time in which everything is scrapped, used, worn out and, in a word, second-hand; Nothing is new and fresh. There are times when people talk about this or that, while neither this nor that is theirs, it belongs to someone else and is imported or inherited. and that is the second-handness of the era of the people at the time when the Soviet Union becomes "old". Expressions such as "shooting", "mass execution", "extermination", "nailing the corner of the wall" or Soviet options such as "detention", "ten years of imprisonment without the right to correspondence" and "exile" painfully scratch the ears. How much is human life really worth if we remember that millions of people were killed a little while ago?! Our existence is full of hatred and prejudice. We are all from there, from the Gulag and the terrible war. Communalization of different parts of life, looting of property of nobles, mass displacement of people...
This was socialism, to put it simply, this was our life. At that time, we talked very little about life. But now that the world has completely changed and we are not going to return to those days, our "life" has become interesting and attractive for everyone. It doesn't matter to anyone what its quality was, but whatever it was, it was our life. I write, I go into the smallest details in my stories, the details of our "internal" and "domestic" history of socialism. How socialism had made a home in the human soul. What always fascinates me is this small space, the world inside man... the world inside man; "Everything happens there." src="https://bingmag.com/picsbody/2208/22861-7.jpg" class="content-pics" alt="BingMag.com Get to know the best books of the unknown; Narrating the world from a new perspective" title="BingMag.com Get to know the best books of the unknown; Narrating the world from a new perspective" loading="lazy">
Perhaps elections are the most important national festival in the era of democracy. Festivals where people's positions are messed up and wishes, humor and laughter are more important than reality and awareness; At the time of the election, there will be a thousand tricks to take the votes from one side to the other; In this space, everything is meaningless and devoid of reality; Every thing can be effective and every incident changes the destiny of a nation. "A non-political narrative of a political event" deals with the 12th Iranian presidential election in 2016 and explores the experience of being present in real and virtual space; From the first moments of the formation of the headquarters, from hesitations and other meaningless words, from televised debates and conferences, from promises and taunts, from the carnivals that take place in the street and from the fateful moments of that year. But these experiences, this excursion in the space where skilled swimmers enjoy swimming, have different strains; Elections are the colorful presence of the people, which no one knows exactly what it is And despite this, everyone invests in it, and other issues are avoided from this space; The American elections and other issues whose importance is still only occupying the mind and life of today's people. But this story does not intend to analyze, nor can it provide an analysis of the tangled coil that takes a new shape every moment; It is only an experience that has been seen and heard.
In a part of the book "A Non-Political Narrative of a Political Event", we read:
"May 9, 1996, the day after the first debate. It's a sunny day that started with alternating sun and clouds and continues until the evening. Tehran, north side of Shahr Park, Shahada Hall of 7th Tir. With a capacity of six thousand people 3.
A sixty-year-old hall that was built for use in world weightlifting competitions and is now owned by the wrestling federation. Three years ago, during the World Wrestling Championships, which ended with Iran winning the championship, its entrance door was broken due to crowding. This time the entrance door is not broken, but there is no place to sit either.
Until a little before 6:20 when the candidate himself (Sidabrahim Raisi, former deputy of the judiciary) starts his speech, these six thousand people are scattered: standing , sitting, reaching out for the bottle of water that several people distribute among the audience, with occasional glances at the place of "sisters" behind the speaker and the floor of the hall, where some are sitting on the floor on all fours and the rest are standing behind the seated, listening to the host's words about The philanthropy and service of the candidate and the need to hasten the appearance of Mr. Imam Zaman in this election ("By electing a president, we want to say that we are waiting", "Gentlemen, we are good in this corner of the world.") The people's hands are not stuck), and in the end, all this expectation, which is forgotten every once in a while with the sound of several people's slogans, comes to the point where the presenter starts chanting and asks the audience to join him ("Gentlemen say, "All these armies have come" , ladies should say, "He has come to love the leader.") These slogans are also like They are mostly a warm-up for the main ceremony, Raisi's speech, which in the end turned out not to be the main point of the ceremony, but mostly the same slogans (because there was no new word to be said and most of the news coverage of the event was about the crowd and their slogans rather than Raisi's words). Everyone is waiting for the arrival of Raeesi. src="https://bingmag.com/picsbody/2208/22861-8.jpg" class="content-pics" alt="BingMag.com Get to know the best books of the unknown; Narrating the world from a new perspective" title="BingMag.com Get to know the best books of the unknown; Narrating the world from a new perspective" loading="lazy">
This historical masterpiece provides a narrative of Jewish and Israeli history. Shlomo Zand, an Israeli writer, university professor and historian, debunks the legend of the forced deportation of Jews in the first century by the Romans and argues that most Jews today are the descendants of converts whose birthplaces were scattered throughout the Middle East and Eastern Europe.
In this tradition-breaking work, which was on the Israeli bestseller list for nineteen weeks and won the enviable "Amroz" prize in France, Shlomo Zand provides the intellectual foundations for creating a new image of Israel's future.
In In 1947, the United Nations General Assembly decided by a majority vote to establish a "Jewish state" and an "Arab state" in the land previously known as "Palestine/Land of Israel". could be taken At that time, thousands of displaced Jews were wandering in Europe, and the small community that the Zionist settlement plan had created was supposed to take them in. The United States, which had accepted many Yiddish-speaking Jews before 1924, now refused to open its doors to the shattered survivors of the great Nazi holocaust. Other rich countries did the same. Finally, it was easier for these countries to solve the troublesome problem of the Jews by giving them a distant land that was not theirs. Consolidation of the new country, what will this term mean? At that time, the Zionist elites - who aspired to an independent Jewish government and fought for it - could not clearly define who is a Jew and a Gentile."
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Chronicle of Algeria
Albert Camus, Chronicle of Algeria He published it in the last years of the fifties of the 20th century, although he wrote it in different and long years. In fact, this book contains three chapters and finally twenty years. Camus says that its beginning goes back to the late 1930s, when no Frenchman was affected by the sufferings of Algeria, and it ends with a review of the events of 1958, that is, when Algeria was transferred to the intellectual, political and journalistic circles of France. Camus's relationship with France and Algeria is a bifurcated relationship, a relationship that is a product of origin and race on the one hand and city and nationality on the other, a relationship between the colonizer and the colony and the false citizen, which are both part of these two. Algeria was France's backyard for many years, where French presidents and commanders set foot and even left. A place far and near, a bridge that brought civilized Westerners closer to their material desires, a land that fed the imaginations of French poets, although its natives were plagued by poverty, famine, and captivity; Algeria was a dream land, the beloved east of the French. But Albert Camus digs into the real Algeria in these three writings, depicts the real life of its inhabitants, talks about the living conditions, work and wages, education and health, politics and its tribes, Arabs and its immigrants, blacks and its hybrids, although it is always caught in the eye. is a westerner and tries to find out the truth by getting close to his race and understanding that reality.
In a part of the Algerian Chronicles book, we read:"To all the people who are offended by reading these writings, I ask that their thoughts Put aside your ideology for a moment and think impartially. Some may rightly seek that the name of their country is associated with justice. But can anyone live justly and freely among a captive nation with outdated ideas? Is it not correct to equate the name of a nation with the concept of historical death? Some others want their country to be physically safe as all countries in the world, and they are not wrong either. But is it possible that a person is able to live among humans without observing justice for others? France is dying because of its inability to solve this difficult situation. The first group wants a general theme at the cost of something specific, and the second group wants something specific at the cost of a general theme. Although both of them are more or less co-conspirators with each other. Before we examine the human society, it is necessary to have a look at the national groups. If we seek to preserve national groups, we must open their doors to global concepts. Specifically, if your goal is French domination over eight million silent Algerians, then wait for the destruction of France. If you are looking for the independence of Algeria from France, the collapse of both countries seems inevitable. Only in the case that the people of France and the Arabs come to an agreement on the solution of their differences, a bright future for France, the Arabs and the whole world will be envisioned."
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The history of psychiatry is full of fanciful theories and strange treatments, at the same time it is full of psychiatrists and scientists who diligently sought relief and effective treatment of mental disorders. Psychiatry has traveled a long and ups and down path since the days when people with mental disorders were kept in chains. This book presents an amazing narrative of this evolution; A narrative that combines the description of real cases of diseases with theoretical thoughts and reflections.
Jeffrey Lieberman, former president of the American Psychiatric Association (APA) and professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, puts the history of psychiatry in a modern perspective. To get a deep understanding of its history. He explores the world behind the scenes of psychiatry and its historical mistakes and presents the modern world of this science and its territory and boundaries to the reader. Your brain has evolved to help you survive and enable you to make the best split-second decisions in life-threatening situations. Even though your amygdala is screaming at you to run for your life, it is better to control the emotions originating from the amygdala while weighing the situation to choose the best option. Maybe you'll have a better chance of survival if you don't move so the bear doesn't notice you, maybe it's better to scream and make a lot of noise to scare the bear, or grab a long stick and defend yourself, or maybe that's the smartest option. Take out your mobile phone and call the park security guards. But the decision can only be made if you consciously override your emotional urgea process neuroscientists call cognitive control. The newest and most evolved part of your brain, the prefrontal cortex, controls your decision-making and cognitive control. The more experienced and mature we are, the more likely our prefrontal cortex is able to exert cognitive control and curb the amygdala's strong urge to escape. . The amygdala wins and you run to your car with all the strength in your legs. The bear sees you and follows you with a loud roar. Fortunately, you are faster than the bear and just as the bear jumps towards you, you reach the car and close the car door tightly. you survived Your brain is designed to learn from this valuable life-saving experience. Your hippocampus now forms a long-term memory of the bear and your decision to run, a memory that is emotionally saturated with amygdala fear.
The main reason the amygdala-prefrontal cortex-hippocampus system exists is that you remember your experiences. and improve your ability to react to similar situations in the future. Next time in the forest (or anywhere (other) encounter a bear (or wolf, or boar, or feral cat), because of the similarity of the event to your initial bear encounter, your stored memory is triggered and that memory automatically directs you to react quickly: Or God, another bear? I survived the last time I ran away, so I better run away again!
But what if your first experience of running away from a bear is so terrifying and traumatic that your amygdala lights up wildly? Maybe the bear reached you and clawed your back before you threw yourself into the car. Then your amygdala is likely to fire so wildly that it imprints an intense, traumatic memory into your hippocampus with searing emotional intensity. Because this stored memory is so powerful, whenever it's triggered it hits your prefrontal cortex and blocks cognitive control. Additionally, this memory may be activated in the future following stimuli that bear little resemblance to the original event, such as the next time you lay eyes on any furry animaleven your neighbor's poodlethat first memory will trigger and cause your amygdala to instinctively fire. React as if you've encountered a killer bear again - God, I'd better run away again.">The Steadfast Eye
I think you know Julian Barnes. He is known among intellectuals and book readers for his famous novels, Understanding an Ending, Just a Story, The Noise of Time, Flaubert's Parrot and Arthur and George. But this great writer is a first-class essayist that has been rarely addressed.
In this four hundred and twenty-six page work, Barnes looks at his favorite paintings created in the 19th and 20th centuries from the eyes of a novelist. has done. The author makes an elixir from memory, history, narrative, reminiscence and storytelling, using which he gives a description of the work of art that is engaging.
Some of the essays are dedicated to one painting. In some others, the artist's style and historical position are the main subject, and an attempt is made to present a general statue of the painter in front of the audience. In a part of the book, the essay writer does not talk about artists' paintings because writing about abstract works is a difficult task. Along with interpreting his favorite works, Barnes deals with contrasts and similarities, paying attention to everyday affairs, people, objects and interpersonal relationships. Considering the fact that this book does not have a specialized aspect, it is also recommended to those who are interested in literature.
In a part of the eye-catching book, we read:"A few years ago, Dosti magazine sent the journalist to Paris, and nothing happened. This friend had two children. As soon as her children's eyes were opened to things, she would pick them up, take them around the Louvre, and tenderly sew their young pupils to some of the world's most distinguished paintings. I don't know if he played classical music for them when they were in the mother's womb, like some forward-looking parents; But sometimes I wonder what kind of people these children will become in the end: prone to manage the museum of modern art, or adults without any visual understanding and afraid of art galleries. My parents never tried to give me culture at a young age (or any other age); They did not forbid me. Both were school teachers and so art, or rather the idea of art, was respected in our home. We had heavy books in the library and a piano in the living room - although it never played during my childhood. The piano was given to my mother by her loving father when she was still young and played well and had a bright future. But he was only twenty years old when he came across a difficult piece by Scriabin and his piano playing also reached a dead end. After many and many failures to play the piece skillfully, my mother realized that she had reached a stage beyond which she could not go. He stopped playing suddenly and forever. But the piano could not be done; He went from house to house with my mother and stayed faithfully with her: until marriage, until motherhood, until old age and widowhood. On its mostly dusty crown was a sheaf of musical scores, including the very Scriabin piece my mother had left behind decades ago."
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This book includes eleven essays by Natalia Ginzburg, one of the greatest Italian contemporary writers. In these narratives, he describes his lived experience. In one of the essays, the author expresses the memories and experiences of an elderly woman, and in the other, he chats with a child psychologist. This routine is maintained until the end of the book. By reading each part of the book, we find out how human issues can enter every corner of life and the author has been able to speak about them masterfully.
In a part of the book, we read insignificant virtues:>" - He said that he cannot love the friends who are there. He didn't want to suffer from their distance and immediately put them out of his mind.
- Music very close to the world It was me and my world, who knows why he didn't accept it.
- He who has suffered once, never forgets the experience of pain. Anyone who has seen the destruction of houses knows very clearly that flower pots, paintings and white walls are unstable objects. He knows well what the house is made of. A house is made of brick and plaster and can collapse. A house is not very strong.
We have been silent, out of protest and out of anger. We have been silent to let our parents know that their harsh words are no longer useful to us. We had other words in the bag. We were silent, full of confidence in our new words. We had to spend those new words on those who understood them. We were full of our silence. Now we are ashamed and saddened by it, and we understand its low value." img src="https://bingmag.com/picsbody/2208/22861-13.jpg" class="content-pics" alt="BingMag.com Get to know the best books of the unknown; Narrating the world from a new perspective" title="BingMag.com Get to know the best books of the unknown; Narrating the world from a new perspective" loading="lazy">
This book is a collection of true stories told by people from different family and social backgrounds for a column of the same name in the New York Times. have sent This book contains the most popular essays published in that column.
Daniel Jones, the editor of the "Modern Love" column, chose this collection from among more than eight thousand essays that were sent to him every year and made it into a book. published.
Modern love is the foreign city of romantic experiences that define love better than any dictionary. Stories that amaze and enlighten the reader. Sometimes they make him laugh, and sometimes they make him cry. Stories that are sometimes not even very modern. But all of them open the shell of love and reveal the painful beauty inside.
In a part of the book of modern love, we read:"After running around in the valley of other emotional relationships, I knew the way and the well and I did not trust anyone. Like men, I made up lies to make myself look great. But I was comfortable with the boy next door, telling him what a tough year it had been and how worried I had been about not finding something to do and a man to love. We think we have to be the most perfect version of ourselves to get a man. When you are in love, you don't believe that everything can end."
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Guest of Revolution
Forty years have passed since the release of the American hostages in Iran and the end of the 444-day occupation of the American embassy. Less than two months after occupying the embassy, Ayatollah Khomeini, the leader of the revolution, ordered the release of the female hostages, except for two. "Catherine Koob", the forty-two-year-old cultural attach of the American Embassy in Tehran, was one of them. He had come to Tehran four months before the crisis to prepare for the opening of the Iran-American Association. The day after he was taken hostage, he was working in his office at the Iran-American Association when he was arrested and taken to the embassy. He describes the events, moods and behaviors of the hostage takers in detail. The publication of this work in a situation where the conflicts between the governments of Iran and the United States have reached an unprecedented level, can open a window, however small, for mutual understanding and dialogue between the two nations. p>
"Our discussion this morning was more serious and frank than ever. The subject of the meeting: the continued existence of the Iran-American Association. The goal was to implement a program that would provide enough money to meet our budget. In that case, we could make up for the previous months of inactivity and get all of our sixty employees back to work.
I turned my head around the room and realized that all these people were me. And Bill is seen as a colleague apart from our titles. Iran-America Association was an Iranian organization that was established based on Iranian laws. These people knew that it was in their best interest that cultural relations continue and remain at a good level. Eva had worked hard to familiarize me with Iran's situation as she deserved. Like Helen, Bill's secretary, she was constantly coming up with new ideas for our shows. Both of them were in their twenties, dressed in beautiful western clothes, and had beautiful, long, curly black hair. As it is common for unmarried girls in Iran, Helen lived in her father's house, and this reminded me of the interesting combination of Eastern and Western culture. Next to Helen, Ziba was sitting, who was the manager of the local staff and was responsible for organizing He was in charge of exhibitions and lecture sessions. Like Mr. Torani, who was the programmer and responsible for the film screenings and advertisements, he was older than the others and in his thirties. The accountant, who normally should have attended such a meeting, was out of town.">Just the Days I Write
This book is a collection of five narrative essays about writing and reading. "Arthur Crystal" in these essays He speaks openly and explores the works of writers from new angles. The first essay, called the speaker of lazy people, deals with the author's life and his relationship with literature. The second essay titled "Sinful Pleasures" is about writers whose stories are detective and crime. The third essay under the title "Only the days that I write" answers the question, why is it better not to see the creators of our beloved texts? The answer is given. The fourth essay entitled "Life and Writing" answers this question: Why are the writer's life and career not separate? In this essay, the author beautifully shows that the text of a writer's life is intertwined with his career, and a writer lives his books. He believes that many writers and philosophers write with the aim of achieving inner peace, and important or serious literature is always the narration of these inner conflicts. "It is hard for one to read, for example, his account of laziness, not reading books, or the pleasure of genre literature, and if one shares with him the inner struggle of these situations, his guilt will not be at least a little comforted. Crystal - whether we believe he does so in his writings or not - seems to be a good justifyer - or rather - advocate, especially for internal dilemmas and trials, about the challenges that confront him. Contrary to what might appear from the cold-blooded tone of Crystal's writings, these awkward propositions and his reasons and documents to prove them are not spur-of-the-moment choices. It can be assumed that these propositions are the titles and minutes of the courts that have been in the author's mind for a long time. It seems that their appearance on paper is an attempt to end the meetings and calm the mind of someone who keeps asking himself why am I lazy? Why didn't I become a writer? Why can't I read books anymore?"
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An anchorage in the flowing sand
Pandemics make us not only mourn the loss of loved ones and fellow human beings, who mourn the sense of security, social relationships, lost capital, and shattered dreams and future perspectives; Mourning the loss of life, as it used to be; Mourning the irretrievable moments of dreaming.
Sadness and loss have been tied to human life for a long time and, in the hope of finding a salve, it has made him go on a journey through various schools, religions, thoughts and cultures. This book is a collection of different writings that help you read different people's understanding of grief.
"Grief Notes", Chimamanda Angzi Adichie's account of her father's grief experience during the pandemic, which was published in the New Yorker; The long-awaited notes that the corona restrictions have deprived him of the possibility of experiencing collective mourning and now, in this unwanted isolation, he experiences grief in a different way. He wrote condolences to his friends and relatives and talked about his experience of mourning and facing death.
"After Life" is an essay by June Didion about her husband's mourning. This brilliant essay has been published both independently in the New York Times and with changes in the book The Year of Magical Thinking. Heman first wrote a shorter version of this essay for the New Yorker, and a year or two later, he published a longer and more moving version of it in the form of his autobiographical essay collection, The Book of My Lives.
"Experience" is a long essay by Ralph Waldo Emerson. And it is the result of his long-term reflection on the experience of losing his young son. Although Emerson deals with more general themes in this essay and only mentions the experience of bereavement of his child, it seems that Emerson's reflections and his naked and frank look at life are derived from the same personal tragedy, and the death of a child is a gateway to thinking about high themes such as the connection of life, has found philosophy and experience for him.
Finally, "The Widow's Tale" is a selected translation of Joyce Carol Oates's memoiristic short stories about her husband's bereavement experience.
In a part of the book anchored in We sing fluently:Every Sunday, my brother from England gathers us all together on Zoom, our noisy quarantine ritual. Two of us connect from Lagos, three of us from America, and sometimes my parentswith a hissing, Ecuadorian voicefrom Aba, the town of my father's tribe in southern Nigeria. On the 7th of June, we talked with my father. As usual, only his forehead was visible on the screen because he never knew exactly how to hold the phone during a video call. Sometimes one of us would say, "Dad, move your phone a little." My brother Oki had taken a new position and my father lost a little because of this. Then he said that he did not eat dinner because they ate their lunch late. Then he talked about the billionaire from the neighboring city who wanted to raise the lands that have belonged to the people of our city for generations. Then he said that he is a bit unwell, he is not sleeping well, but we don't need to worry about him. On the 8th of June, Oki went to see Dad and said that Dad looked tired. ninth June, I cut our chat short so Dad could rest. Dad laughed silently when I poured the taste as usual and took the role of one of the relatives. "Ka Chi Fu" he said. good night. That was the last thing he said to me. On June 10, Dad died. My brother Chucks called to tell me the news. I fell apart."
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Photography, Ballooning, Love and Sorrow
Pat Kavanagh, husband and literary agent of Julian Barnes, died of a brain tumor in 2008, and three or four years later Barnes finished writing this book, which is a long meditation on love and Grief and resilience in the face of death: what love gives us and makes us feel like we can dodge bullets, as Sarah Bernard claimed it leaves room between raindrops, and what it ends up being: that "every love story It is also potentially a story of sadness", that eventually one of us will die before the other...
In a part of the balloon photography book of Love and Sorrow, we read:
"Two things that They have not been put together until now, you put them together and the world changes. Probably no one will pay attention at that moment, but it doesn't matter. Anyway, the world has changed.
Colonel Fred Burnaby, of the Royal Cavalry Guards and a member of the Council of the Aeronautical Society, took off from the Dover Gas Works on the 23rd of March 1883, halfway between Dieppe and Nouchtel. , landed.
Sarah Bernard took off from Paris four years before and landed near Emeraville, in the city of Saint-Marin.
Felix Tornachon, who on October 18th, 1863, from the Champs-Elyses Paris had taken off, then after a gust of seventeen hours had carried her east, she crashed somewhere near the railroad near Hanover.
Fred Burnaby was traveling alone in a yellow and red balloon called the Eclipse. The length of the basket was one and a half meters, and its width and height were a little less than one meter. Burnaby weighed over a hundred kilos, wore a striped coat and a tight-fitting hat, and had a handkerchief wrapped around his neck to protect him from the sun. Burnaby had with him two beef sandwiches, a bottle of Apollinaris mineral water, a barometer for measuring altitude, a thermometer, a compass, and cigars in abundance.
Sarah Bernard, Emma, with her artist lover, George Clarin, and aviation. Professionals traveled in an orange balloon, which was named after the lady's recent role in Teatarshahr: Doniya Sol. At half past six in the afternoon, an hour after the start of the flight, the actress played the role of mother and took a liver sandwich for the others. The aviator opened a bottle of champagne and sent the cork in the air, and Bernard drank from a metal goblet. Then they ate an orange and threw the empty bottle into Lake Vincennes. Suddenly, the wind got under their skin and they happily dropped the balance weights from above onto the heads of the poor spectators below: an English tourist family on the balcony of the Bastille Tower; Later, over the happy crowd of the wedding party outside the city.
Tornashon also traveled with eight people in his personal balloon in his ambitious dream: "I have to make a balloon - a great balloon - huge and gigantic. Twenty times the largest existing balloon. He also named it Jaynet. This balloon made seven flights between 1863 and 1867. Among the passengers of the second flight, we can mention Ernestine, Tornashawn's wife, aviator brothers Louis and Jules Godard, and one of the descendants of the Montgolfier family - one of the pioneers of ballooning. There is no information about the food they had with them."
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This book is a mystery that contains seventeen fascinating biographies - Beyond the Water, Prologue, to the Rooster read, a piece of the night, some authentic narratives of yogurt and cucumber, days of me and Isfahan, the Lubervin dog, Khurshid mansion, Ferdowsi store, Golestan confectionery, Indian garage, until the next trips, the warmth of morning sleep, the report of the last days, the pencils remained in the books Villa Intersection of Soraya and near the story - which was written in different time intervals and collected in it. The author took help from the pictures and memories that he recorded in his memory or a special booklet to write a sweet and sad story about the days and comrades who have passed away.>
"It is the last thirty hours of September. Today was Friday. In the morning, I went to the Friday book market. I bought the book of human crimes or human traffickers of the 20th century. It is the work of Khame Rabi Ansari. His photo is printed on the back cover of the book, which is a pocket book. The book stuck to my heart. Someone has scribbled some pages of the book. I also bought the book Divan Alfat. I recently discovered it. Sometimes in the afternoon, I pass by the alley named after him; behind the square And the book of wishes by Hijazi. Recently, I want to read this kind of books. The influence of this type of writing is still there in novice writers who submit stories for amateur competitions. Poor girl, rich boy, poor boy, rich girl. Cabaret, prostitution, adultery, latest model cars, virginity, revolver, AIDS and... what about me!
Today It was the 30th of September. I want to write a note. to the end of the year. Maybe every night. The second half of my 49 years old. Maybe I will write all the things that I should have written and didn't write in one way. So everyone comes in these notes and I deal with them. Isfahan was autumn today. It is the month of Ramadan. The morning was cool. In the evening, I was sitting at my desk and closed the window curtains. From behind the table, you can see the edge of the row, and now that it is late, red lights can be seen on the mountain; But in the evening I happened to be thinking about writing every night.
It was a pleasant evening, I could see rows of mulberry trees from the window and I could see their upper branches. By the time I closed my eyes, the walls and windows were gone and I could see the berries. Then there were new buildings. After demolishing Simin textile factory, the factory land became six or seven floor apartments. Apartments that were built one by one and are being built and will be built. I told myself that I will write from tonight, I will write. This is what I wrote. CM Shahrivar In the second half of 49 years. I have been living in Isfahan since I was sixteen years old. I love this city; Esfahan. My Isfahan.
Today was the 31st. The last day of summer. I woke up a little late in the morning. In the middle of the night, I used to listen to music and sing the mourning of the mother. Friday morning with the sound of the water machine; the sound of moons that are always behind the window behind the window; The light slowly poured into the room. The sound of the refrigerator. The sound of the door of the neighbor's house and... I woke up. At this hour, the curtain next to the window is softer than ever.
I open the window and let the breeze move the curtain and autumn, breeze and coolness come into the room. I hear Puran. My tears sing Dona Dona and Pooran stays with me all day. In the bus, I was constantly reading to myself and looking at Zayandeh Rood; From a psychic's point of view. I haven't smoked for ten days today. I am waiting to breathe better. When I got off the bus, the fountains of the park and the fountains of Hasht Behesht street were on! And they brought the water up to the upper branches of the trees. I called that the sound of the fountain is like this.
The water was breaking into pieces. The air had cooled down and water droplets were splashing on the petunias, parsley and roses that were dying from the heat of the previous weeks in the coolness of these days. Schools opened today. Tomorrow, with the arrival of autumn, all the streets and this particular street will be very crowded for the first graders." h2>The Train Driver
The book "The Train Driver" can be seen as a clear example of the saying "the seeker is the finder". In many languages and cultures, there is a specific name for people who are interested in railways and trains. In England and America, they are called "trainmen" and in France "iron patients". In Iran, railway lovers are called "Khalmeshang" in the most polite way possible.
Undoubtedly, "Ehsan Nowrozi" is one of those train lovers. In his childhood days, unlike his peers who wanted to become doctors, engineers and pilots, he dreamed of owning a train that he could drive himself, pick up people at different stations and sleep in one of the cars at night. His love for trains made him a professional reader of Sherlock Holmes and Poirot detective stories. A bridge overlooking the Tehran railway became a place where he could endure the most heartbreaking romantic breakups and the most bitter failures in life.
The time passed that his job was to pass and intense curiosity made him go to the railway building and ask the managers. This company wants to live on the railway for a year.
...and the story of "trainman" started from the steam carriage. When the Qajar kings went to Farang and saw big carriages without horses, they asked the Belgians to build one of them in Tehran. The result was the construction of an eight-kilometer railway line between Tehran and Ray.
After extensive research in historical documents and the press, the author gives a good picture of how Iranians look at trains and railways. One of the editors of the information newspaper wrote in protest of the way of entering and using the railway: "Equip the subjects with knowledge and wealth for the day of the train ride and notify the end of the donkey riding period to the donkey riders. Because it's ridiculous to ride a train wearing a donkey outfit." Modares says: "He who is in Isfahan wants the railway to pass through his house. The one who is in Bandar Abbas has the same desire." The biggest opponent is Mohammad Mossadegh, who wants to spend the sugar tax on the sugar factory, not the railway. Finally, after many struggles, the Danish specialists completed the work of the German and American companies by showing great competence.
In a part of the book Trainman, we read:"The day when I was supposed to be taken to Eram Park, I mourned. The descriptions I heard from my classmates were terrible. Giant Ferris wheel, crashing cars, flying machines or speeding through the sky. they give; So much so that you scream and probably throw up. When we got there, everything was as I expected, with the same frenzy and frenzy as promised. The fear of notoriety and having to face my parents made me let all those damn devices take me here and there, but finally something was found that I stood in line waiting for for the first time. It was the longest of all queues, and as far as my parents were concerned, I had been on all kinds of vehicles enough, and it would be better if we went back home, but I insisted and was ready to give a lot of guarantees that I would be a good boy and have a 20 grade average and be good with my little brother. and be my mother's helper in the hardships of the house; And I was willing to do more than that to get on that little train that was going to pass through the tunnel of terror. If I had known about it, I would have stood in line all day long and wouldn't have wasted so much time and money on those other monstrous devices. "The whole time we were riding that narrow-gauge train through the tunnel, I was looking at the train itself instead of at the ridiculous things that were supposed to be scary, and I was enjoying the ride."
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