A Little Tale of Non-Fiction (1)

Are you bored of Love Stories and Thrillers?
After a long day's work, you find it very hard to grasp a piece of "Heavy" Literature yet you believe you deserve more than Harry Potter?

May be you should try to give it a go with a non-fiction book.

There are a lot of advantages to non-fiction over fiction books; especially, in our contemporary life style. A non-fiction does not require commitment as a novel for example. It is normally divided into more or less individual chapters or at least subject matter. So the reader might read till a certain section then stops till he feels like resuming. (I tried this once while reading Lord of the Rings. Then when I tried to get back to reading a month later it was an absolute nightmare. I did not know who's who, lost the story line and had to retract a 100 pages or so just to get back on line again...)

Furthermore, a good non-fiction will probably, actually, add concrete pieces of knowledge to its reader.

Anyway, this mini-series is really based on nothing except some very limited readings I had over the last couple of years of a few of those authors and books. Here we go...

Bill Bryson:

One of the most loved writers for in the last part of the 20th Century. He was born in the States in 1951, in a little city in the state of Iowa.
His first travel book starts with just that "I come from Des Moines. Somebody had to."

Bryson dropped out of University to Backpack travel in Europe. These travels later on became the source of his first travel book "Neither Here Nor There"
In 1973, he got a job in England and met his wife. They got married and lived in the UK till 1995.
Up till 1987, Bryson was working mainly as a journalist (The Times and The Independent) and then started writing independently. He moved back and forth from The States to The UK and is now living in Norfolk, UK.

Perhaps the Most known work of Bryson is a "Short History of Nearly Everything." This Rough guide to Science is full of Humor in addition to some very important scientific facts. It is not just about science and scientific status. It also contains a whole lot of exciting information about the lives of many scientists, their backgrounds and often funny beginnings (or endings.) For example, we learn that Hubble (Famous Astronomer who gave his name to the Hubble Telescope) was not on very good terms with his wife. After his death, she took his body and buried it in an unknown place. No one knows where Hubble is buried till today. Or, something like: On the average everyday an American ends up dead by drowning in his own bathtub. The book goes on and on. It is one of the few books that I read may be for three times.
The book won the prestigious Aventis Award in 2004.

Bryson wrote 3 books on the English Language "Mother Tongue", "Made in America" and "Bryson's Dictionary of Troublesome Words." These works were also greatly popular though criticized by academic critics for some of their mythical/misguided facts.

Currently, I'm reading two of his works. "Shakespeare: The World is a Stage."
In this small book, an attempt is made to shed some light on the very mysterious personal life of perhaps the greatest author in the English Language; although some very little facts are known about his life. "We do not know if he ever left England. We do not know who were his principal companions were or how he amused himself... On only a handful of days in his life can we say with absolute certainty where he was... For the rest, he is a kind of literary equivalent of an electron - forever there and not there."

The other book is "The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid."
In this book, Bryson is making a very witty account of his years as a child growing up in the America in the 1950's.
"By 1951, when I came sliding down the chute, almost 90 per cent of the American families had refrigerators, and nearly three quarters had washing machines, telephones, vacuum cleaners and gas or electric stoves - things that most of the world could still only fantasize about... In early December, his wife (referring to Bryson's mom) went into Mercy hospital and with very little fuss gave birth to a baby boy: their third child, second son, first superhero."

In short, it is all in the way it is told. Any subject tackled by Bill Bryson becomes humorous, witty and exciting. He is the kind of writer, I would have dreamed of becoming. I became a construction engineer instead. Well, no one said that this world is fair after all...

On The Second Time (Part 1)

(1)

Even Police Stations look different in Heliopolis; so clean and so much light. I tried to remember what time it was. I could not tell for sure. The last time I looked, it was 8:30 pm. But it seemd like it has been such a long time since then. I just got through the station front door and was practically dragged by anonymous strong arms. To where? I could not tell. We were moving quickly and a lot of people surrounded me, all talking at the same time. I understood every word they said but did not make anything out of it. My mouth kept on a monotonous murmur: It was not my fault; it was not my fault…

Finishing school was never really a viable option for me. Just passing my third preparatory year (at 17), my father sent me to take care of the Family Kiosk in Heliopolis. A prestigious, well paid job that made me the envy of almost every guy my age, and the desire of a lot of girls, in our desolate alley situated deep inside Imbaba. My day was fairly simple, I would take a Microbus everyday from Courniche to Heliopolis, open up to customers at around 9:30am and close at 9:30pm. Almost all my clients were regulars. The school kids from the private primary near by, people from the neighberhood and regular pass buyers consituted my day for almost two years. "You should start looking for a wife." El Hagga said. "It is still to early" I replied and thought to myself "Why stick to one when you can have a lot." I smiled sheepishely.

- I have never seen a similar car, wow... My friend Ahmed said. I tilted my head a little bit and he was right. An amazing big black 4x4 just pulled in font of us.

The electric window opened up and the man inside asked for a pack of cigarettes. I got what he wanted and put it on the selling board in front of me. Without even looking at me, and without getting out of his shining car, I saw him getting out the money of his pocket, stretching his hand to me.

Some people think they own this world. Even more, they think they own us with it; as an irrelevant bonus. I make less than 50 piasters profit per pack of cigarettes. If this moron thinks I'll leave my chair to serve him he is gravely mistaken. I continued my imaginary phone converstation.

- A pack of Lights please. I heard him say.

- .... So, Ahmed you said that the goods will be a little late. I went on my fake phone converstaion.

Incrudelously, he got out of his 4x4. He slammed the door, went all around the huge vehicle and gave me a 10 pounds note.

- We don't have change. I said. Do you have 50 P.

He gave me 50P. Grabbed the pack and was gone in less than a second. I despised him so much. I hated him, his smell and his car. No one owns me.

(2)

There is a king in everyone of us. I smiled to myself. Even this little bugger in this wretched Kiosk thinks that he is better than to pass me a pack of cigarette.

He does not look at me and even fakes a phone conversation just to avoid moving his.... and does his job. Egypt will never be a respectable country as long as these lazy worms live in it.

Everyone sees the new Chevrolet Blazer, dad got from Saudi when he came back, thinks that we got in bed with a Saudi Prince or something.

Twenty seven years of hard labor, twenty seven years away from his family and for what?? A small appartment in Helipolis, the big 4x4 and a small sum at the bank. Small business men in Egypt make more in a year then what he wasted his life upon. I puffed loudly the smoke of my cigarette.