Scan barcode
archytas's review against another edition
informative
reflective
medium-paced
3.75
Within a singularly confessing society, being a confessing individual is not so singular. It is the price of entry: I pay it in order to exist.""
Throughout this essay collection is a sense of displacement, of a self not fitting. Gunaydin struggles with needing therapy, but feeling like she shouldn't. She struggles with feeling at home when she feels she shouldn't. There is stigma, especially, in success. Part of a wave of young third culture writers writing about identity, this Gunaydin is explicitly political, and admirably analytical, trying her own sense of self to the social forces around her. There is a subtle restraint in most of the collection, but occasionally she lets loose with what she can do with overanalysing: the section on brunch, or casually throwing around the cult memoir she will not write. I liked the last two essays the most, perhaps the least introspective, which are tightly focused on a particular topic.
danial_yazdaniii's review
4.0
Gunaydin reminded me of how much I love to read, write and absorb the society that operates miraculously around me. Root and Branch is exactly why I want to publish something like this one day. It is all encompassing in it’s subject matter, yet so painstakingly specific. Although one or two essays weren’t particularly engaging, the rest, especially her final one, had me lost for words. The art of the essay form, a form that can exist with sardonic humour, transparency and devotion to self, has truly become reinvented in recent years by writers like Gunaydin.
Also, she shortlisted one of my essays for a competition once so EEEKKK
Also, she shortlisted one of my essays for a competition once so EEEKKK
tackling_my_tbr's review
challenging
funny
informative
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
ROOT & BRANCH speaks directly to the second generation immigrant, specifically the Australian who, despite having been born and raised in this country, feels like they’re still seen as an outsider.
Gunaydin’s essays are written with a scholarly ease; clever with a wry, sometimes acerbic, sense of humour. There’s a touch of melodrama in some pieces, a splash of weighty intellectualism in others. Broadly speaking, her essays touch on race relations, colonialism, classism, diaspora and identity, while introspectively reflecting on some of her experiences as an Australian Turk.
There was so much I could relate to in Gunaydin’s essays, especially the ones in which she discusses Western Sydney, its cultural makeup (and by extension, its class), its gentrification and its colonial history — after all, I am a part of the wave of urban change that she talks about. And being a Sydneysider, we’ve also shared some similar experiences; I’m no stranger to the 3am institution that is Stanmore McDonalds, I also brunch religiously (despite being unable to justify an $18 avo on toast) and I’ve also had my fair share of uncomfortable racist encounters in this multicultural city.
Gunaydin also talks a lot about the feeling of displacement; where whiteness is really a construct of class and politics, and how you fit on that scale shifts based on where you are in the world. Her dysfunctional family dynamics, seeded by intergenerational trauma that belong specifically to the immigrant group. And what the result of that dysfunction looks like, specifically manifesting into symptoms of PTSD and hypochondria in her case.
Gunaydin’s style is assured and addictive, her witty, self-deprecating humour is a welcome balance to the more sobering ruminations around the effects of diaspora. ROOT & BRANCH has definitely been one of the more insightful — and funny — essay collections I’ve read in a while. Thoroughly relatable and significant, it’s a big recommend from me.
💌 New South Publishing
Gunaydin’s essays are written with a scholarly ease; clever with a wry, sometimes acerbic, sense of humour. There’s a touch of melodrama in some pieces, a splash of weighty intellectualism in others. Broadly speaking, her essays touch on race relations, colonialism, classism, diaspora and identity, while introspectively reflecting on some of her experiences as an Australian Turk.
There was so much I could relate to in Gunaydin’s essays, especially the ones in which she discusses Western Sydney, its cultural makeup (and by extension, its class), its gentrification and its colonial history — after all, I am a part of the wave of urban change that she talks about. And being a Sydneysider, we’ve also shared some similar experiences; I’m no stranger to the 3am institution that is Stanmore McDonalds, I also brunch religiously (despite being unable to justify an $18 avo on toast) and I’ve also had my fair share of uncomfortable racist encounters in this multicultural city.
Gunaydin also talks a lot about the feeling of displacement; where whiteness is really a construct of class and politics, and how you fit on that scale shifts based on where you are in the world. Her dysfunctional family dynamics, seeded by intergenerational trauma that belong specifically to the immigrant group. And what the result of that dysfunction looks like, specifically manifesting into symptoms of PTSD and hypochondria in her case.
Gunaydin’s style is assured and addictive, her witty, self-deprecating humour is a welcome balance to the more sobering ruminations around the effects of diaspora. ROOT & BRANCH has definitely been one of the more insightful — and funny — essay collections I’ve read in a while. Thoroughly relatable and significant, it’s a big recommend from me.
💌 New South Publishing
wtb_michael's review
challenging
informative
reflective
medium-paced
4.25
Such a smart book, blending essay and memoir - Gunaydin's academic background shines through a bit, but it's still a brilliant and accessible look at class, family, trauma, migration and more. A joy to read
More...