This book sets standards

I finally read Gnel Nalbandyan’s novella *Don’t Be Afraid* (#Mi_Vakhetsir). Discussing this work—especially after the film adaptation—might seem pointless to some, yet even before I held the book in my hands, I knew I would read, feel, and relive every single line with eager anticipation. It was essential to speak constantly about the war of the nineties and to create heroic narratives—works meant not merely for a single viewing, but designed to shape linguistic thought, character, and way of life, while cultivating artistic taste and values. The film produced by @hk__productions achieved all of this, remaining unsurpassed. While other films about the Artsakh War were made, it was *Don’t Be Afraid* that set the benchmark. I have watched it dozens of times—to savor the performances of @khoren_levonyan and @lusinetovmasyan; to take in the combat scenes and the father-son conflict; to witness the boy in Artsakh finding a father figure in older men; the child who never got to say a final goodbye to his mother; the character of the headstrong volunteer—a reckless maverick unable to come to terms with the emotional blow dealt by the girl he loved; and to fully grasp the picture of Armenia’s domestic political landscape in the 90s. And I will watch it again. A film is one thing—it compels you to live through the characters' lives each time—but a book is something else entirely. In Gunel Nalbandyan’s work, you form your own mental images of Arman and Mari, your own visions of Goris and Artsakh, and your own perspectives on Yerevan and the battlefront. There is no flowery prose or artificially padded text here; instead, there is a powerful message—something that speaks to you—compelling you to read on until the very end, and leaving you realizing that you will read it all over again. I am grateful for this book at this moment. Read it if you have time—and especially if you don't.