❞ رواية The Maze Runner ❝ ⏤ James Dashner

هذا القسم يحتوي علي العديد من القصص والروايات باللغة الإنجليزية

(Stories and novels) القصص والروايات
الرواية هي سرد نثري طويل يصف شخصيات خيالية أو واقعية وأحداثاً على شكل قصة متسلسلة، كما أنها أكبر الأجناس القصصية من حيث الحجم وتعدد الشخصيات وتنوع الأحداث، وقد ظهرت في أوروبا بوصفها جنساً أدبياً مؤثراً في القرن الثامن عشر، والرواية حكاية تعتمد السرد بما فيه من وصف وحوار وصراع بين الشخصيات وما ينطوي عليه ذلك من تأزم وجدل وتغذيه الأحداث
A novel is a relatively long work of narrative fiction, normally written in prose form, and which is typically published as a book. The present English word for a long work of prose fiction derives from the Italian novella for "new", "news", or "short story of something new", itself from the Latin novella, a singular noun use of the neuter plural of novellus, diminutive of novus, meaning "new". Walter Scott made a distinction between the novel, in which (as he saw it) "events are accommodated to the ordinary train of human events and the modern state of society" and the romance, which he defined as "a fictitious narrative in prose or verse; the interest of which turns upon marvellous and uncommon incidents". However, many such romances, including the historical romances of Scott, Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights and Herman Melville's Moby-Dick, are also frequently called novels, and Scott describes romance as a "kindred term". This sort of romance is in turn different from the genre fiction love romance or romance novel
A short story is a piece of prose fiction that typically can be read in one sitting and focuses on a self-contained incident or series of linked incidents, with the intent of evoking a "single effect" or mood.

A dictionary definition is "an invented prose narrative shorter than a novel usually dealing with a few characters and aiming at unity of effect and often concentrating on the creation of mood rather than plot."

The short story is a crafted form in its own right. Short stories make use of plot, resonance, and other dynamic components as in a novel, but typically to a lesser degree. While the short story is largely distinct from the novel or novella (a shorter novel), authors generally draw from a common pool of literary techniques.

The Maze Runner    

He began his new life standing up, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air.
Metal ground against metal; a lurching shudder shook the floor beneath him. He fell down at the
sudden movement and shuffled backward on his hands and feet, drops of sweat beading on his
forehead despite the cool air. His back struck a hard metal wall; he slid along it until he hit the
corner of the room. Sinking to the floor, he pulled his legs up tight against his body, hoping his
eyes would soon adjust to the darkness.
With another jolt, the room jerked upward like an old lift in a mine shaft.
Harsh sounds of chains and pulleys, like the workings of an ancient steel factory, echoed through
the room, bouncing off the walls with a hollow, tinny whine. The lightless elevator swayed back and
forth as it ascended, turning the boy’s stomach sour with nausea; a smell like burnt oil invaded his
senses, making him feel worse. He wanted to cry, but no tears came; he could only sit there, alone,
waiting.
My name is Thomas, he thought.
That … that was the only thing he could remember about his life.
He didn’t understand how this could be possible. His mind functioned without flaw, trying to
calculate his surroundings and predicament. Knowledge flooded his thoughts, facts and images,
memories and details of the world and how it works. He pictured snow on trees, running down a
leaf-strewn road, eating a hamburger, the moon casting a pale glow on a grassy meadow, swimming
in a lake, a busy city square with hundreds of people bustling about their business.
And yet he didn’t know where he came from, or how he’d gotten inside the dark lift, or who his
parents were. He didn’t even know his last name. Images of people flashed across his mind, but
there was no recognition, their faces replaced with haunted smears of color. He couldn’t think of
one person he knew, or recall a single conversation.
The room continued its ascent, swaying; Thomas grew immune to the ceaseless rattling of the
chains that pulled him upward. A long time passed. Minutes stretched into hours, although it was
impossible to know for sure because every second seemed an eternity. No. He was smarter than
that. Trusting his instincts, he knew he’d been moving for roughly half an hour.
Strangely enough, he felt his fear whisked away like a swarm of gnats caught in the wind,
replaced by an intense curiosity. He wanted to know where he was and what was happening.
With a groan and then a clonk, the rising room halted; the sudden change jolted Thomas from his
huddled position and threw him across the hard floor. As he scrambled to his feet, he felt the room
sway less and less until it finally stilled. Everything fell silent.

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