Elke's Northern Tale

By Atemi Kayaky

We are faced with an industrialization phenomenon that makes itself felt in literature as well as in every other subject. The reshaping of literature according to the conditions of market capitalism turns literary products into simple consumables. Newly released literary novels, stories, poems, essays, etc. literary products no longer have an artistic quality, they are consumed quickly and resemble Hollywood movies…

 

Identical, fabricated books adorn the shelves of the bookstore. We are faced with books that appeal to the eye, not to the pleasure of reading. Every day, we are showered with novels whose content resembles a movie script, and the most popular ones are immediately adapted to the cinema. Their styles, plots and even the subjects themselves are extremely superficial, identical books are everywhere.

 

There are quite a few pages in such works, but it is possible to read and finish them in a short time. We would like to say that the reason for this is that it is written in a successful language. However, if we consider that the majority of the people who read these books find it boring and they find it boring, this is not the main reason. The main reason is that in such industrial novels, whether it is character analysis, description of environment and events, a very superficial work is done. Writers don't think about these things. Because – a group of authors should be excluded from this – what is important for authors now is the sales figures and the amounts they will earn, rather than the literary and aesthetic characteristics of their works.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Atemi Kayaky
• Release date: Sep 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201336424

Book preview

Atemi Kayaky

ISBN: XXXXXXXXX

Atemi Publishing 20 18

*****one*****

Didem Tekeli • Elke's Northern Tale

38

0

The tram rattled across the tracks, firmly embedded in the stones, shaking the ground, and the pedestrians waiting to cross in front of the church trembled. At least that's what Elke thought, we shudder. His thin-soled shoes were cold, and his legs were bare under the sheer socks. He muttered what he was thinking and added, I won't be sick. His gaze, watching the smoke coming out of his mouth, ended on the calf of the horse standing beside him. The blue of the sky was somehow blinding. The knight on the horse had overheard what he had said and said, 'I'd be happy to buy you a cup of coffee. The voice was proud, sure, brave, Elke thought, and it had a warm energy, indeed. He looked up carefully, struck by his majesty. Why are you holding a Kalashnikov? he asked slowly. The sword is ineffective at these times, said the knight, if you knew what you're about to witness here, you'd be right. Words rolling from above bothered Elke. Thanks for the coffee offer, he said, but I'm not dating soldiers. While listening to what he said, he saw that he was saying a soldier instead of a statue. Interesting, he thought, after all, what does this dream mean in my subconscious? The light turned green, everyone was moving to take a step when dozens of officials appeared and started to block in front of the sidewalk that stretched along the street. These people, who wrote their work in big letters on their fluorescent vests, were quick and sharp. Not much, within ten seconds the street was surrounded. Objections rose from pedestrians waiting to cross. Why are you stopping us, some asked, others judged, it's unfair what you're doing. A speeding vehicle is coming this way, the officials explained. Since we can't stop it, we're taking precautions to protect you. No, said a young woman, you can't get me out of my way. We are thinking of your well-being, the vest said to us.It's pointless for you to be angry. Not really, the woman said. Not by blocking us. Elke stared at the young woman, not knowing what to do. He felt like supporting her, but believed that their lives were in danger. He's right, he muttered to himself. If he has to go, he must go, on the other hand. The young woman pushed the iron barrier placed in front of the pavement, slipping through. His step was on the road when he saw the car coming towards him, growing bigger with each passing second. Stoped. The meaning of truth has changed. A few sentences came to his mind, maybe they were the words of the song he loved, or the words were from poetry books. Everything happened in front of everyone, deep and sudden. Elke's eyes widened. The sound of the collision filled his ears, it's not easy to bear, he groaned. There was really nothing exciting about the levitation of a slender young body. Yet, he said to himself, it can be fantastic, even beautiful, for an ordinary city to be turned upside down. He opened his mouth to breathe. He looked down at the place where the body had fallen, as did the crowd beside him. He took a deep breath, his lips trembling. He turned to the direction the car was going and tried to catch his breath. He was surprised. As the woman's long hair was blown into the sky, the voice of the orchestra preparing before the concert rose from the body that hit the ground. All the instruments gave their unique sounds at the same time, as if everything would fall into place happily, then a breathless, dark silence took over the city. The silence lasted until the ambulance arrived. It was green for pedestrians, the embankment in front of them had already been removed. Elke stopped. Let me pause for a moment, he thought, let me pause for a moment and try to understand what's going on. Who knows how many times he went back to the time he was in at the green light. He felt the warmth of the people passing by on his right and left, his icy legs, the majesty of the statue he was waiting for. He knew that the moment he had witnessed was following him, and when he was in the middle of the road, he looked behind him to make sure he was taking a step. Of course, if he stops at a pedestrian crossing and turns his head back instead of looking ahead, the probability of colliding with someone increases, of course. She collided with a man, Elke. He turned to apologize and saw that it was his neighbor Simon. Are you all right, said Simon, come on, let's get to the curb before the cars move. They returned to the base of the statue. Elke, trembling, quickly recounted what had happened, maybe I should go home, she said. I'd love to walk home with you, but I'm going to Alma's school, Simon said. Her face lit up, they're going to introduce an animal they're curious about in class today, she added, admiring jellyfish, and now I'm taking her one that I caught in the morning. Wanting to share her excitement, Elke looked at the animal stirring in the plastic bottle. As if I knew what you were thinking, I cut the bottle and put it in, Simon said. Then I zipped the top and put the pieces together. While listening to Simon about the jellyfish, what they need to survive, Elke realized that the one in the bottle was already mourning. He will die, he thought. He can't even keep up with Alma's class. I told you so," the horseman said. We need this weapon. If you hadn't made me out of bronze, I'm pretty sure I could have shot the driver of the car in the forehead and killed him. In fact, I could have galloped before and rescued this sea creature from its hunter's grasp. What he heard made sense to Elke. If a knight or a soldier or a horseman has his weapon in his hand, he knows how to use it. He lifted his head to the clouds. He stared at the statue. Simon continued to talk happily. There's no way the bronze warrior on the bronze horse was talking to himself. Maybe I'm already sick, he thought. Maybe I'm burning hot right now, I'm hot and I'm drooling.

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*****2nd*****

Hüseyin Akyüz • Bacanak - Oggito

Dreams are like mirrors;

sometimes we see in them what will happen to us.

moliere

What a power-hungry your late brother was. Each of her works was done meticulously, as if embroidering with gold threads on a precious silk. It's a dream, it's inconceivable otherwise. He's been too busy for a while, you think he's rebuilding one of the seven wonders of the world. While I was in a corner watching him with languor, as if swaying in a hammock under the shade of a palm, he suddenly stopped working. He threw off his apron and work gloves, and threw his suits aside. He said come, he went out. I got up and followed. He seems to be in a folly that does not suit him, hands in his pockets, whistling in his mouth, he cares what the world is. He is quite determined to continue to be like this, so confused as I could be, we hit a road that we would never have thought of finishing the streets of the city. We passed through the gardens and plunged into the forest. We walked up the hills on a path parallel to the river, paved in places with earth and stones in places, as if hidden in the thick bushes. The shallow, clear, pebbly river sometimes disappeared, then reappeared, sometimes becoming a gurgling cascade a few meters high. This is exactly what Borges writes in one of his famous works, said Borges for a moment when we stopped for a breather. "Everything that happens to human beings happens exactly, but completely, in the now. Centuries pass and everything happens only in the present; There are countless people in the air, above the ground and the sea, but in reality, everything that happens happens to me." While trying to rest my legs that were starting to get tired, I couldn't help looking at him with surprise. I knew that I had never read a single literary work in his life, when he got to know Borges, when he memorized paragraphs from his works, it is impossible to guess. At a place where I think the path is over, we pass through trees with thick trunks that are tightly packed together, as if we are winding behind a mountain. All of a sudden, everything gets wild, it's astonishing. Ahead of us is a raging river that has thrown itself down from the hills. We are at the end of the narrow path. On one side was the raging riverbed filled with razor-sharp, predatory rocks, on the other the steep slope that towered into the sky. On the slope, adorned with lush grass and fresh wildflowers, trees line the branches of crimson cherries the size of plums, figs with honey, and golden apricots. There are ten horses, but what horses, snow-white skin, silk mane. They are obviously very hungry, they are stubbornly resisting in order to hold on to the steep slope, to eat a handful of green herbs, fresh flowers or fruits. Impossible