HTCBVL1 - Bé Tập Tô Chữ Số tải về miễn phí cuốn sách

Milica Svilar milicasvil0a41 — This book took a while to get going. Perhaps it was because I started off with a little wariness – I’m not all that fond of reading Chinese immigrant stories, partly because they’ve always seemed… perhaps a little too similar to each other. Perhaps because they also hit close to home, but in a different sort of way (my great grandparents moved from China to Singapore – essentially moving from one Chinese-dominated country to another). It’s hard to explain, but it’s always made me hesitant. Wayson Choy’s The Jade Peony is set in Vancouver’s Chinatown in the 1930s and 40s and opens with a story of Jook-Liang, the ‘useless girl’ who dreams of being Shirley Temple and befriends old Wong Suk (Monkey). This story tripped me up a little, it was kind of sweet but I don’t think I was in the right frame of mind to read it (still wary, still hesitant – the grumpy grandmother stuck in her old ways especially called for a big fat ‘aiyah‘*). I have to admit that I almost put this book away at this point. But I’m glad I stuck with it, as in the end, the book was quite worthwhile. The second section was second brother Jung-Sum’s story. He was adopted by the family at age four and struggles with his new life and the spectres of his past. The third story is told through the eyes of Sekky, the youngest, during the Second World War and the tensions between the Japanese and Chinese immigrants in Vancouver. This third story has the most action – the other parts seem more like reminiscences, rather episodic. But despite the lack of action, the reader feels drawn into the lives of these three children, perhaps on the strength of their characters. However, the three stories seem quite separate from each other, and the three main characters seldom feature in each others’ stories, which is quite curious. * Which can be translated into somewhat of a sigh or an ‘argh’.

Zakaria Omar zakaria83 — Admittedly it seems a little presumptive to try and review Homer’s Iliad, a tale almost 3000 years old and one of the great epics, if not the greatest epic, that the ancient world produced. Nor does the story need any introduction: the world over, people know of the legend of the Trojan War, of the young lovers Helen and Paris, and the two champions of the Greeks and the Trojans destined to die, Achilles and Hector. Such has been the impact of this timeless tale of love and war over the millennia, that most people will have heard of it through sheer cultural osmosis and readily understand references to an Achilles’ heel or Helen as the face that launched a thousand ships, despite the fact that few of those will have actually read The Iliad. So, this isn’t going to be my usual review format, but more a collections of thoughts and comments. Like any story it has both positives and negatives, and whilst I would recommend The Iliad to anyone, it’s only honest to mention all the features. Homer introduces a very wide cast of characters into the story, even outside the main characters, some of whom are mentioned once and then killed, and it can be a challenge to keep track of all the different names, though the recurring characters are strong enough to be readily memorable. Secondly, a key feature of Homer’s style has always been a propensity towards asides and stories-within-stories. As a result, there are frequent points where he diverges from the actual main plot of The Iliad and will recount another tale in brief, usually in the form of a character retelling their former adventures and exploits. Sometimes this occurs as part of heroic etiquette; characters facing off on the battlefield decide to exchange lineages and adventures stories before one of them kills the other. This is all part of honourable form in the epic poem, but it’s a tad unrealistic right in the middle of a raging battle and it does drag the pacing down somewhat since it goes from fast-paced, heated battle scene to lengthy recitation of lineage and former deeds; as a reader, you’re in that fired up, battle scene mindset, and suddenly you just have to reset and re-adjust. But, I would urge potential readers to stick with the story, and keep with it despite those two points. At its core, The Iliad is a masterful tale of love and war and the fine line between those two themes. In many ways, The Iliad is such a classic of literature because it is an allegory of ideas and concepts that are still highly relevant to us today. The characters within this tale ask the same questions as us about the nature of love, friendship, family, life, death and honour, and for me that really hit home the knowledge which as an historian I’ve come to learn many times over the years but is always worth repeating: people in the past may have lived in different times and different cultures and societies to us, but they were human exactly like us, and they pondered the same questions and experienced the same joys, sorrows and angst as we do in the present day. I think a lot of people consider history to be something of a boring subject and assume that the people of the past are so wildly different from us as to be almost alien and unrecognisable, but that isn’t the case at all, and reading The Iliad, a story almost 3000 years old, that fact really resonates. Another key feature of Homer’s style, and one of my personal favourites, is his penchant and talent for description. Homer’s descriptions are always very vivid and evocative, and they really stay with you – a fact I picked up on when I first read The Odyssey aged 7 years old and the memory of which has always stuck with me. The Iliad is crafted with the same wondrous descriptions and attention to detail, some examples of which I will provide later below. Homer also doesn’t shy away from describing in full detail some pretty gory death scenes, but these are few and far between, and the seriousness and horror of these scenes never crosses the line into unpalatable. The Iliad really is a must for any classicist or historian, but I would recommend it to absolutely anyone. A note on this translation and edition. The late E. V. Rieu’s introduction discusses Homer’s style and what we know historically about both Homer and any possible Trojan War, the importance of The Iliad and finally the universal themes contained therein far better than I have here. I leave you with some of my favourite quotes: “There are nights when the upper air is windless and the stars in heaven stand out in their full splendour round the bright moon; when every mountain-top and headland and ravine starts into sight, as the infinite depths of the sky are torn open to the very firmament; when every star is seen, and the shepherd rejoices. Such as so many were the Trojans’ fires, twinkling in front of Ilium midway between the ships and the streams of Xanthus.” “Atreides in a loud voice gave his troops the order to prepare for battle, and himself put on his gleaming bronze. He began by tying round his legs a pair of splendid greaves which were fitted with silver clips for the ankles. Next he put on his breast the cuirass that Cinryas had once presented to him as a friendly gift. News had reached Cinryas in far-off Cyprus of the great Achaean expedition that was sailing for Troy, and he had sent this cuirass as a gracious offering to the King. It was made of parallel strips, ten of dark blue enamel, twelve of gold, and twenty of tin. On either side three snakes rose up in coils towards the opening for the neck. Their iridescent enamel made them look like the rainbow that the Son of Cronos hangs on a cloud as a portent to mankind below. Next, Agamemnon slung his sword from his shoulders. Golden studs glittered on the hilt, but the sheath was of silver, with a gold baldric attached. Then he took up his manly and man-covering shield, a nobly decorated piece, with its ten concentric rings of bronze, and twenty knobs of tin making a white circle round the dark enamel boss. The central figure on it was a grim Gorgon’s head with awe-compelling eyes, and on either side of her, Panic and Rout were depicted. It was fitted with a silver baldric, round which a writhing snake of blue enamel twisted the three heads that grew from its single neck. On his head, Agamemnon put his helmet, with its four plates, its double crest and its horsehair plume nodding defiantly above; and finally he picked up a pair of strong and sharp bronze-headed spears. Beams from the bronze he wore flashed into the distant sky, and Athena and Hera thundered in answer by way of salutation to the King of Golden Mycenae.” “Hera went in and close the polished doors behind her. She began by removing every stain from her comely body with ambrosia, and anointing herself with the delicious and imperishable olive oil she uses. It was perfumed and had only to be stirred in the Palace of the Bronze Floor for its scent to spread through heaven and earth. With this she rubbed her lovely skin; then she combed her hair, and with her own hands plaited her shining locks and let them fall in their divine beauty from her immortal head. Next she put on a fragrant robe of delicate material that Athena with her skilful hands had made for her and lavishly embroidered. She fastened it over her breast with golden clasps and, at her waist, with a girdle from which a hundred tassels hung. In the pierced lobes of her ears she fixed two earrings, each a thing of lambent beauty with its cluster of three drops. She covered her head with a beautiful new headdress, which was as bright as the sun; and last of all, the Lady goddess bound a fine pair of sandals on her shimmering feet.” 10 out of 10