Review: The Art of Dreaming

The Art Of DreamingThe Art Of Dreaming by Carlos Castaneda

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Carlos Castaneda is certainly considered required reading for any person even slightly interested in the occult, ancient practices, magic, dreams, altered states of existence or completely different planes thereof. This one was the first book by him I finished, if you exclude The Teachings of Don Juan which I began reading in Spanish but never finished because my Spanish just isn’t as good as I’d like it to be yet.

Contrary to other of his works, this one he wrote many years after the events he describes therein had come to pass: apparently they had been buried into his subconscious because of the altered state, the second attention, he had (mostly) been in at the time. Only almost 20 years after his apprenticeship into understanding and navigating the world of dreams by Don Juan was he able to bring what he learned to the forefront of his consciousness and then put it on paper.

I liked The Art of Dreaming, especially the first half. I read that when I was in the coach from Athens to Sofia and it helped make the journey much more dreamy; it made me feel that it was a passage in more ways than one: in the physical sense -travelling from one point of the Balkans to another- but also in this transcendental sense, this thing you get when you learn about the details of a profound truth. I came into The Art of Dreaming expecting something practical -Castaneda’s “Lucid Dreaming for Dummies” handbook- especially after learning that it was he who popularised the technique of looking at your hands as a reality check, something I picked up and have used successfully numerous times. The beginning of the book was entirely like that: it was him learning about the different methods of dreaming consciously and going through the “gates of dreaming”, as well as finding out about the complicated intricacies of the assemblage point and its manipulation. That link is a good summary of the book’s most interesting “academic” part.

But, like Castaneda himself in the book, or at least the person Castaneda wrote himself to be, I too need my objectivity, for that’s the way I was taught to perceive the world, as Don Juan would have said. Therefore, as the book became weirder and weirder and Castaneda strayed farther and farther away from what my dream reality -even in my most successful endeavours in lucidity- has looked like and started going into the dimension of inorganic beings, alien energy scouts and the like, I started losing my point of reference and ultimately my interest. By the end of the book his narrative had become so convoluted that I couldn’t figure out any part of what was happening – perhaps an apt representation of Castaneda’s own recollection of his strange experiences.

What however made things more interesting for me was this article I came across shortly before finishing the book which uncovers Castaneda as a complete fraud. Apparently after the success of his first few books, which, it is implied, were also figments of his imagination, Castaneda became a sort of cult-leader figure; when he was exposed he disappeared from public view by secluding himself in a villa together with three of his female companion sorcerers. The story is complicated in many levels; I can only say that the narrative of his books and what happened in real life is difficult to tell apart. In fact I’m sure that even if Castaneda proved to be okay after all (a possibility we still can’t discount since, from where I’m standing, the revelation of the hoax can be a hoax as much as the supposed hoax itself) the automatic reaction from a scientific and rationalist status quo seeking to disprove just to confirm its dominance would have been no different.

At this point several possibilities and parallel narratives have arisen: the story of the book itself; the real events which inspired Castaneda if we are to accept that his books are only adaptations of what really transpired; the reality of his life undescribed in the books – what we would see in a Castaneda behind-the-scenes; and the dirt that has come out that Castaneda was a complete hoax, which is 100% in line with “skeptic” views. All these interpretations exist simultaneously in a sort of entangled limbo: any one of them could be true and the fact wouldn’t negate the veracity of the other versions – they could all be true simultaneously. Additionally, on a meta level each one of these stories has something different to tell: about the human willingness to believe and the power of belief itself, about the unfathomability of the universe, about the dogmatism of contemporary intellect, about how powerful your fictional story can be to be able to ultimately convince even yourself that it’s the truth – especially if millions of others already believe it to be so.

In another interpretation, you could see how these are all just different layers of meaning, just like Don Juan described reality as an onion consisting of layers of universes. The hoax coexists with the book’s story and it’s only a matter of intent, a matter of the position of your assemblage point what it is that you’ll end up keeping from the whole affair.

Even if Castaneda hallucinated everything he ever wrote about, this book has made me think in ways I’m sure were not intentional but have arisen anyway as part of the complexity of being a thinking but chiefly intuitive feeling person alive in 2014. If this book is a valuable collection of techniques that -as far as I can tell- really work and a story of them being put to use, where does the fiction begin?

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Review: Lord of the Flies

Lord of the FliesLord of the Flies by William Golding

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Listened to this in audiobook format read by the superb Martin Jarvis. I kind of regretted it because the book is rich with detailed descriptions a lot of which I missed because I’d sometimes get distracted while listening. Maybe I’m not accustomed to audiobooks with more difficult language, or perhaps it’s just that I need to train my concentration skills.

All that said, I liked the book but, you know, not that much. I wonder whether its message is absolutely pro-civilization; if it’s really saying what it seems to be saying, that if you remove civilized society from humanity, all that’s left is savagery. I don’t like this take and would like to have more knowledge of anthropology to back my feelings with research that humans are better than that.

Then again, there’s this… Rather, I hold true that neither the “noble savage” nor the “civilization über alles!” tropes are absolute truths and that a whole lot of varying parameters will influence whether a community will destroy itself or flourish to form a different culture.

As a final note, I think reading this properly could get it to 3.5 stars. Its subtle, sometimes tender descriptions sat well with me.

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Review: The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Historia

The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule HistoriaThe Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Historia by Shigeru Miyamoto

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

When I first heard of the existence of Hyrule Historia and its inevitable translation and release in Western markets I was as ecstatic as any fan could be. To give you an idea, scanlations from the original Japanese edition were unleashed to the thirsty hordes of Zelda enthusiasts within a matter of hours after release in Nipponia. Finally! A Zelda tribute to end Zelda tributes; a book strictly for the fans; an official behind-the-scenes, anthology, retrospective, together with the manga prelude to Skyward Sword, all presented with high quality illustrations, colour and printing and, perhaps most importantly, THE TIMELINE!

Now that eyebrows have had the time to be lowered and discussion on the three timeline theory, which like it or not is now obviously canon, has subsided, it’s time for the admission part: the part where I look into the cold, hard facts of being a maturing Zelda fan. I hope you’re ready.

In the last pages of the book there’s a Thank You note from Eiji Aonuma, director and designer of many of the most recent additions to the series and to many the visionary and overseer of the Zelda franchise as a whole ever since Majora’s Mask was released. This is part of what he had to say:

“The History of Hyrule” allows players to determine where each Zelda game is positioned in the chronology of the series. One thing to bear in mind, however, is that the question the developers of the Legend of Zelda series asked themselves before starting on a game was, “What kind of game play should we focus on?” rather than “What kind of story should we write?” For example, the theme of Ocarina of Time , the first Zelda game I was involved with, was, “What kind of responsive game play will we be able to create in a 3-D environment? […]

“Because the games were developed in such a manner, it could be said that Zelda‘s story lines were afterthoughts. As a result, I feel that even the story of “The Legend Begins” in Skyward Sword was something that simply came about by chance.

“Flipping through the pages of “The History of Hyrule“, you may even find a few inconsistencies. However, peoples such as the Mogma tribe and items such as the Beetle that appear in Skyward Sword may show up again in other eras. Thus, it is my hope that the fans will be broad minded enough to take into consideration that this is simply how Zelda is made.”

I remember reading years ago that the official timeline of the series was a confidential document kept deep inside the Nintendo headquarters in Kyoto… As the years passed and new titles that made little sense when put in the big picture were added to the chronology, such as Twilight Princess, the connecting story started looking like either a lie too disappointing to reveal, or if it really was there, just a little bit too simplistic, i.e. is the great overarching story of the Legend of Zelda just a tale of many Links, many Zeldas, many Ganons and a terribly uninteresting tale of a prophecy never fulfilled? I slowly joined the disappointed doubters, those that questioned the relevancy of the timeline or even the very existence of it.

This confirmation by Aonuma sealed the deal: it was Nintendo’s way of saying “you wanted it so badly, so here it is, but you’re looking too much into it; go out more would you, you buncha nerds!” and I think it would indeed be sound advice for people still arguing on forums whether the official timeline is in fact real or not, suggesting that their own version of the timeline makes a lot more sense! The denial there is in the world…

I must admit that expecting a big closure from Skyward Sword, the “aha!” moment that would put every little piece of the puzzle in its place and it never really coming but instead getting the much-advertised prelude to Ocarina of Time with more unresolved new directions, brand new deities (as if there weren’t enough already), characters and hint-dropping, left me with a sour taste in my mouth. It is obvious that if you really want to enjoy Zelda and avoid such disappointments it would be a good idea to be “broad-minded enough” as Aonuma-san suggested, to turn your thinking brain off and take it as Nintendo delivers it. Willing as I am, I just can’t do that. I can’t create connection between the stories when the connective links (get it?) are so vague, each time raise more questions than they answer–for sequels’ sake– and often feel as arbitrary as Star Wars Episode III.

As Zelda games are changing to cater for new audience and are at least trying to get with the times, I feel more and more that they’re just not for me, that Nintendo has long stopped trying to cater for my ilk and that in reality they can’t even do it anymore. I can already see with my mind’s eye Nintendo fanboys who never broke away listing the “hardcore” games Nintendo has released in recent years that would supposedly dispute my argument. What they don’t realise themselves is that Nintendo of old, the Nintendo that dominated my childhood, was revolutionary, it wasn’t just the franchises and the games. It was innovative, it created demand, it didn’t just respond to fans. Now it’s like Fidel Castro or Chavez – only the blind and misled still see revolution where there’s nothing left but allusion to and revering of the good ole days.

Maybe it’s the gaming culture I’ve grown out of, or even a gaming culture I can’t grow into anymore. Maybe it’s just the simple fact that people change, or, as I’ve observed time and time again, that people heavily tend to single out the Zelda title they first played as the pinnacle of the series that can never be bested, and what of course follows is unrealistic expectations of newer games that they will finally be the ones that emulate the feelings they had when they played their first Zelda when they were 9. Is it possible that when a game becomes an enduring legend, the greatest enemy it has to face is its own legacy? Newer players seem to love games such as Spirit Tracks or the new Link Between Worlds, games I really can’t see myself getting into for the simple reason that I just grew up differently. It’s a pity, but so is the nature of the world: as series reach their maturity and endure for more than 25 years in a field which is barely older than that itself, so do players. Funny how people don’t have similar expectations from other media, such as fairytales or children’s animation movies.

Nevertheless, Hyrule Historia is safe from all the above because it’s made for my own personal nostalgia, it only exists in the past. It’s like a photo album with pictures from your childhood: it remains valuable no matter what. Apart from the older ones like me, I can also see the young ones taking an interest in it, those who love Spirit Tracks and Wind Waker HD and who never had the chance to grow up with the older games (same with me and the original NES Zelda) but are still interested in the series as a whole and think I’m a snob hipster 20-something gamer elitist, the very same feelings I had for those who thought Ocarina of Time was crap because according to them Link to the Past was the best. Don’t worry kids, you’re up next.

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Civilization V Brave New World Review

If you can speak Greek (chances are, if you’re reading this, you can) you may read my original takes on Civilization V and the first expansion Gods and Kings. I reviewed them for Game 2.0 when they came out, the good people from whoever-the-distributor-of-Take-Two-in-Greece-is being kind enough to provide me with a review copy as happens of course with almost all games I write articles for. This year though, while they did send me a preview copy, they somehow neglected to allow me to play a launch version of one of the best entries in the Civ series  -at the very least as far as expansions are concerned- and so I had to wait for a Steam Sale to come to snatch it up for 10€.

What I enjoyed:

cultural victory is now a blast! Being “peaceful” never was so fun before, artifacts, exhibitions, tourism and all;
archaeology blew me away with its ingenuity and the feelings it gave me of being part of a real world and at the head of a truly timeless civilization;
banning and unbanning luxuries reminded me of the 1961 Single Act on Narcotic Drugs, as far as legitimacy and complete arbitrariness is concerned. Oh the ways games can show you how the real world works…

•liberating Ethiopia from the bloody hands of Carthage and then having them vote for me for World Leader, together with the -mostly bribed- loyalty of the world’s city-states, was very satisfying;
playing as Venice and Byzantium meant playing two different games and I loved that (I became stinking rich in both though because of trade routes, love them!);

What I didn’t enjoy:

haven’t tried the scenarios yet, most probably never will;
• I try to install a simple alarm clock through the mod menu and you go and disable achievements? Seriously?
feeling the urge to spend so many hours on it during a time when minutes, days and hours feel more valuable than ever;
archaeological sites spawning in ice; what the fuck’s up with that?
online multiplayer as clunky as always; still want to play;
those other civs being just a tiny bit quicker than me and completing wonders a single turn before I would
and doing that 4-5 times in a row; there’s only so much a hippie can take;
AI still a bit wonky at times, marked improvement over vanilla and expansion 1 nevertheless;
missionaries are a complete waste of time!

What I will remember:

playing together with Daphne for the first time. Doesn’t count as a comment on Brave New World in particular, but that they included the option for playing hotseat is commendable;
reloading again and again as Venice to finally get the cultural victory I wanted! All bowed to my superior Venetian works of art eventually and the victory was all the sweeter after I had chosen Autocracy as my Ideology. Strength Through Joy, the achievement read;
I was itching to try the Zulus for my hand at a Domination Victory before I started writing this and I’ve been playing Civilization on and off for most of my life; I’d do it now if I wasn’t ready to go to bed;
becoming inspired enough to draw the final maps of my two games in my notebook (also influenced by On The Map);

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civlization_v_qb_map_2

I would recommend it to everyone who:

doesn’t think this could be their thing. Some people believe they need to know or understand history and/or strategical thinking in order to play, but it’s remarkable how many different kinds of gamers I’ve met or read about that like Civilization but don’t necessarily enjoy other strategy games;
is looking for a way to “kill” time; just ask Daphne: when Civilization becomes a priority over even Breaking Bad, you know you’re onto something;
likes classical music; this game has a lot of it and it’s good;
thinks fantasising about artillery, battle plans, taking over cities and teaching those Swedes the lesson they deserve -while at the same time appearing/pretending to be working- sounds like a fun day.

Review: On the Map: Why the World Looks the Way it Does

On the Map: Why the World Looks the Way it DoesOn the Map: Why the World Looks the Way it Does by Simon Garfield

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I bought On The Map from Schiphol Airport when it caught Daphne’s eye in an AKO. It looks at cartography from numerous and very different angles: the digital (or tabletop), imaginary map of the contemporary game; the history of cartography from Ptolemy to Eratosthenes and from Blaeu to Mercator -and the fight between different projections and why the one bearing the latter’s name escaped its intended use for navigation and remained revelant in the 21st century; neurology’s attempts of mapping the brain; the medieval spirit of map-making that was vastly more interested in the representation of myth and fable than of actual space; the revolution -and problems- brought about by the introduction of GPS; even a more in-depth look at how men and women look at maps differently -note: not necessarily with the men being flat-out better at reading maps as is commonly believed, it’s a bit more complex than that- and many more.

My main problem with the book was that it was too geared towards Brits: there were just too many chapters on the Ordnance Survey, the creation of the London A-Z, John Snow and how he stopped cholera (don’t laugh!), the story of the London Underground iconic -and first of its kind- stylised chart (okay, that one was interesting) and others that were just too specific for me. Plus, Simon Garfield’s style was somewhat… dry, I’d say. It couldn’t convey the thrill I usually get from looking at maps (or creating them, as is the case with many of my favourite PC games), letting my imagination and abstract mind go crazy in the process. There was some magic lost here.

The chapter on the world’s atlases, on the other hand, had me salivating all over. Just for a taste: Blaue’s Atlas Maior (1665), The World Geo-graphic Atlas (1953) and The State of the World Atlas (1999, with recurring editions – nine to date). Unfortunately, the book’s black & white illustrations, scans and pictures, while indeed helping to keep the price low, didn’t help with making the maps look their best. Thank you Google DuckDuckGo.

To cut a long story -okay, maybe not so long- short, I’d say that the book was okay; a useful reference but not as mind-tickling as I’d have liked it. If you like maps though, don’t let me stop you: by all means give it a flip and see what you can get from it. To carry on with the whole British thing, there’s bound to be something in there that’s your cup of tea.

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Review: Ο διανοούμενος στην κουζίνα

Ο διανοούμενος στην κουζίναΟ διανοούμενος στην κουζίνα by Julian Barnes

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Ο τίτλος του βιβλίου στα ελληνικά είναι «Ο διανοούμενος στην κουζίνα». Στα αγγλικά είναι “The Pedant in the Kitchen”.

Από το WordReference.com:

pedant n (nitpicker, [sb] overly academic) // σχολαστικός επίθ

•intellectual adj (person: intelligent) // άτομο διανοούμενος, πνευματικός επίθ.

Παίρνοντας το συγκεκριμένο βιβλιαράκι από το ράφι του Σπόρου στα Εξάρχεια για 2€, περίμενα κάτι σε στυλ μοριακή γαστρονομία, ανάλυση της υψηλής κουζίνας ακαδημαϊκά και τέτοια. Αντί αυτού, πρόκειται για τον συγγραφέα (που εγώ δεν ήξερα) Julian Barnes να εξιστορεί τις περιπέτειές του με τα βιβλία μαγειρικής του, που το «μία πρέζα αλάτί» π.χ, απλά δεν του φαίνεται αρκετά ακριβές. Άλλες ιστορίες του είχαν να κάνουν με τους αγαπημένους του διάσημους σεφ και τι χουνέρια τους κρατάει και καταστάσεις όπου η μαγειρική του δεν εξελίχθηκε όπως την περίμενε. Ελαφρώς ενδιαφέρουσες, αλλά δεν πήρα αυτό που περίμενα!

O pedant είναι ο σχολαστικός ψείρας που τα κάνει όλα ακολουθώντας κατα γράμμα τις οδηγίες και τη “βιβλιογραφία”. Pedantic grammar nazism, θα μπορούσαμε να πούμε. Η διανόηση είναι κάτι άλλο. Γενικά η μετάφραση δεν ήταν κακή, αλλά αυτό ήταν για μένα μεγάλο λάθος που αλλάζει όλο το κλίμα και τον τόνο του βιβλίου. Θα ήταν ενδιαφέρον θέμα ένας διανοούμενος στην κουζίνα· ένας ψείρας που θέλει να τα κάνει όλα από το βιβλίο και πώς δεν τα καταφέρνει απλά με βρίσκει τελείως αδιάφορο γιατί πολύ απλά δεν είμαι αυτής της σχολής σκέψης στην μαγειρική. Τη σέβομαι, αλλά όχι. Είμαι του άκρατου πειραματισμού, τι να κάνουμε.

Μισός έξτρα πόντος για την ιδέα της σάλτσας ντομάτας με κρέμα γάλακτος, για το κεφαλαίο αφιερωμένο στα έξτρα μαγειρικά σκεύη που όλοι μας έχουμε αλλά δεν χρησιμοποιούμε ποτέ, για την χρήσιμη συμβουλή να μην εμπιστευόμαστε ποτέ τις φωτογραφίες στα βιβλία μαγειρικής και για τον λαγό με σοκολάτα.

Καημένοι Άγγλοι, το τι θεωρείτε επιτρεπτό στη μαγειρική είναι απλά θλιβερό. Αλλά, απ’την άλλη, if you don’t know what you’re missing, you’re missing nothing at all.

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Anodyne Review

Anodyne's script ain't no "It's dangerous to go alone! Take this!"
Anodyne’s script ain’t no “It’s dangerous to go alone! Take this!”

 

Take Link To The Past, a David Lynch film (or any other work based on a stream-of-consciousness or dreamscape narrative) and some Nietzsche. Put them in a blender. Blend. Serve with Indie™ sprinkles. You’ve got Anodyne.

What I enjoyed:

compact dungeons;
card collectables;
funny;
well-written;

creative use of the graphical limitations.

What I didn’t enjoy:

the map was more Zelda ’86 and less Link to the Past;
floaty controls (don’t use analogue sticks, trust me);
difficult in an awkward way, ie I was falling too much into pits and not being killed by enemies enough – also had to do with the very short invincibility window after being hit.

What I will remember:

the ultimate broom which could be used as a weapon as well as a means to push dust on water to create a raft with;
the Master Sword Get! moment after completing the first three dungeons (it has to do with a wind power generator);
the philosopher bosses who always had something deep to say before and after the battle;
the ending (which I had to fight for twice because  I comically drowned after defeating the final boss the first time around);
the humour – something we don’t see in games that often unfortunately.

fluffy.
fluffy.

 

I would recommend it to everyone who:

• likes Zelda, especially the 2D ones;
enjoys short games (it won’t take you more than 5 hours);
• is bored of dry dialogue (no text is wasted in Anodyne, there are no “Isn’t it a beautiful day?” or “This is the way to the lake!” moments);
feels comfortable with philosophy and/or poetrythe game makes little sense in terms of what we’d normally expect from the genre; it takes a mind that can grasp abstract ideas to follow what might be happening or derive enjoyment from the calm realisation that maybe what is happening doesn’t matter as much as how it’s happening;
likes it indie (just two people worked for this. I hope, if you’re that dedicated of an indie person, that you’ll overlook the fact that the game’s main outlet has been Steam. I personally got it from some Humble Bundle and would happily share a DRM-free .exe with you if you’d like me to, but I’m sure you’d rather have the achievements, wouldn’t you?)

Review: The Disaster Artist: My Life Inside The Room, the Greatest Bad Movie Ever Made

The Disaster Artist: My Life Inside The Room, the Greatest Bad Movie Ever MadeThe Disaster Artist: My Life Inside The Room, the Greatest Bad Movie Ever Made by Greg Sestero

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Now would be a perfect time for anyone who hasn’t watched The Room (2003) by Tommy Wiseau to watch it. Guys, this movie has been called “the Citizen Kane of bad movies”. There’s a game made based on the story, the following for this cult classic has been going strong for years -it’s still not very famous in Greece but I’m working to change that- and, obviously, a book about it just came out.

A book written by Mark (Greg Sestero) of “Oh, hi Mark!” fame and co-written by Tom Bissell, a person for whom my respect increases by the day. A book I could hardly put down and kept reading it standing up in the metro and in the bus and which I finished in just 3 days. I usually take long with books – sometimes because I force myself to read them rather than enjoying them. This one was different.

The Room is a special case of “WTF, how does this thing exist?!” and a lot of its charm lies on precisely that inexplicability. Who is Tommy Wiseau? Where did he find the film’s $6m budget? Why did he become the unique, strange character he is? Greg Sestero divulges a lot on how he met Tommy Wiseau, what made their relationship special, disastrous and in a way admirable, all the way up to the making of The Room, but those fundamental questions on the very essence The Room are never answered directly. He gave away enough to make me even more interested in Tommy Wiseau as a personality and what he and his ways might have to teach me (I didn’t believe there was anything I could learn from him before I read this book) but not too much, which would ruin everything. At the same time, The Disaster Artist has a certain kind of flow and style that it, as is correctly advertised on the cover, reads more like a novel – and you have to remind yourself that not only is it real life you’re reading about, but also it’s about The Room. The freakin’ ROOM!

Another reason I connected very well with the book was that Greg Sestero’s way of thinking, his reaction to some things, his relationship with Tommy and his whole demeanour reminded me of myself. I could almost imagine myself in a parallel universe in all the situations retold in the book, and that helped a great deal with my immersion in this tragicomic story.

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