Emre
@Heathcliff_
Şu anda okuduğu kitap
Ne var ki, "gerçekçilik" kavraminin bu kullanimi, roman biçiminin belki de en özgün özelligini belirsiz kilmak gibi ciddi bir kusuru da içinde barindirmaktadir. Roman sif hayati güçlüklerle dolu tarafindan gördügü için gerçekçi olsaydi, o zaman yalnizca ters gevrilmis romans adini vermek yeterli olurdu. Halbuki roman yal-nizca belirli bir edebi perspektife uygun olanlari degil, insan ya-gantisinin tüm çesitliliklerini resmetmeye çaligir: Romanin gerçek-giligi sundugu yagam tarzinda degil, o yasami sunus tarzinda yatar.
Sayfa 11
Her çiçeğin bir mevsimi, her kitabın bir zamanı vardır. Haziranın tadını yeni hikâyelerle çıkarın.
Permanency is Impossibility
I walked along it early this morning, and saw how much the coast had eroded since I enjoyed that first view of it. The sea has eaten away at it so that the country has shrunkby twenty or thirty feet just in my lifetime, and it will keep shrinking. It will diminish to a pebble, and then one day nothing, as we all do. It is a reminder that permenance is an impossibility. All is flux. And nature always wins.
I sit back down adn type the final sentence of the story about lives led as freely as greater forces would permit.
These are my last words, and I leave them here for you.
It's Never Been About Societial Decision
I remember what you said, clear as a day: "People like me don't go to places like that." Robert, that ripped at my heart. The thought that you see yourself as somehow inferior to the toffs, tossers and bashers I grew up amongst is an unforgivable absurdity and, furthermore, one that must be addressed immediatelly. Nothing will change if it's not changed from the inside, by which I mean if you were to go to university, you would not only be refining what is already a keen mind, but shifting the intake towards your people too. I know it's only a small step: the barriers can't all be broken at once. Who knows, though, perhaps one day when you're a wild success you could repay the favour to someone equally as deserving.
Dulcie, Robert and RomyPostmodern
As the crisp, freshly cut leaves of paper fluttered between my finger, lines from the poems jumped out at me now like familiar friends returning, and when I turned back to the title page and read my name once more I realised I was holding my breath.