What are the main themes in 'Haroun and the Sea of Stories'?

Il y a trois ans, il faisait rage en Afrique, incontestablement le Roi des Rois Soldats. Trois ans plus tard, il est revenu en ville, sans voiture, sans maison, et constamment dans les ennuis. Postulant pour être un agent de sécurité dans une entreprise, passant du champ de bataille au bureau, il est discret, astucieux, avec de la profondeur. Même les agents de sécurité peuvent connaître leur moment de gloire au printemps. Chaque fois que quelqu'un lui demandait : pourquoi es-tu toujours celui qui a pas de chance ? Basil Jaak répondait timidement, c'est juste parce que je suis trop visiblement beau ! ...

Duncan Abnomar was transmigrated to a magical world. Most of the lands of the world had sunken, and the surviving humans could only live on islands. Due to an unknown reason, the world was also contaminated and strange phenomena and things would randomly appear. Humans had developed steam gear technology, and the islands were connected through boats. They survived by studying strange phenomena that happened all around the world. However, as the captain of a scary-looking ghost ship, Duncan was facing a huge challenge. "How the heck do I steer this ship?" Highly recommended by experienced editor: MC is transmigrated to a world mostly covered in water and far from civilization. He becomes the captain of the ghost ship, the 'Homeloss'. He steers through the fog and adventures through the broken world and the unknown deep sea. As he discovers the ruins of abandoned civilization, he would also stumble into the war between the strange phenomena and the devil gods. The story takes place in a combination of ocean and Chutly mythology world, a new and interesting background. It’s an attractive story to read due to the author’s sense of humor and mastery over the ambiance of the story. --------------- Another-style introduction: "On that day, a thick fog engulfed everything. On that day, he became the captain of a ghost ship. On that day, he crossed the dense fog and faced a completely overturned and shattered world – the former order was completely gone, and peculiar phenomena dominated the endless seas beyond civilized society. The island city-states and the fleets challenging the sea have become the only lights of civilization left, while the shadows of old days still lurk in the deep sea, waiting to devour this dying world again. But for the new captain, there's only one pressing question – Does anyone know how to sail this damn ship?!"

"I got transmigrated into a novel because of a bad review?" Eren found his life turned upside down when he woke up as the character that he had just finished cursing in a negative review! Not only had he been reborn as an antagonist that he hated, but he was an Elder at a Devilish Sect? It would've been fine if that was the only problem, but that was just the beginning as he remembered that the Character was a spy sent into the Devil Sect by the Mythical Hero Academy... A character that died within the first fifty chapters?!

Temoshí, a boy with no memory of how he ended up in the middle of the ocean, is pulled into a journey alongside his old friends. Together, they become pirates and set sail on an eternal voyage across the Vast Expanse. On this perilous journey, Temoshí searches for answers to his mysterious past, encountering divine beings, forging new alliances, and battling powerful foes. As struggles and adventures unfold, his voyage becomes a story of discovery, resilience, and destiny.

That day, the breath of the great whale dispersed the fog, and a new era arrived. Chen Qi accidentally transmigrated into the steampunk-apocalyptic game world of 'New Sun,' starting with the monstrous talent "Deep Sea Affinity," where ancient deep-sea creatures saw him as one of their own. Although he possessed the talents of a monster, as a transmigrator, he still maintained the original intentions of humanity, striving to level up with the firm resolve to become a world-renowned Monster Hunter. Finally, after his relentless efforts, the popular Dove Times sharply commented: "From the ancient deep sea, a scoundrel with evil bloodlines who threatens witches with tentacles, the arrogant lone Emperor of the Fifth, who aims to conquer the Witch Sea!" False news, blatant false news! Even though he grew tentacles, threatened witches, raised sea dragons, collected tolls, and sang the death chorus with sea monsters. He was truly not of any Deep Sea Ancient God's bloodline but a dedicated and responsible Hunter. Chen Qi cut down the fleet before him and earnestly clarified.

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling