...Er... yeah, I took a longer break than I wanted. The Japanese magical realism will wait a bit, today I'll review something else from a favorite author of mine.
Slowness by Milan Kundera
I once read a comment somewhere in the bowels of the internet (though I can scarcely be bothered to remember where anymore- it was quite a while ago) that the first book one reads by Milan Kundera is the one that will be the best liked. I can understand this perspective for a few reasons- Kundera's style never really seemed to evolve, his books are are very similar stylistically, tonally, and even atmospherically. Additionally, the type of observations he makes are often very similar. However, I can't help but think that Slowness may actually be the exception to this rule.
While Slowness is very much stylistically the same as Kundera's other works, the message is a bit more profound, from my perspective at least. Though written a couple decades ago, it engages the fundamental problem of modernity at its very heart- we have become so obsessed with speed that we often miss life for what it is. While "stop and smell the roses" is a very cliche message, it remains one of my favorite cliches, and I have come to appreciate very much every second of slowness that I am able to capture within my life.
Aside from the message, which is probably Kundera's strongest point, the book is still stylistically interesting. The character exposition is extraordinarily advanced, motivations leaking through the text in the strange subtle way that only Kundera can present them. The atmosphere remains very dreamlike despite its distinctly down-to-earth setting because of Kundera's stylistic choices, weaving the tales together to focus on the message rather than the characters. Ultimately, it is a highly successful technique, and one I will probably never tire of praising authors like Kundera or Calvino for.
OVERALL SCORE: 79/100
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Japanese Magical Realism I: Souseki
As I am currently writing a paper on magical realism in Japanese literature, I thought it might be prudent to make a series of it.
Magical realism, under my definition at least, is a work that fundamentally displays a struggle between reality and unreality. It is inexplicable, but rather than having its roots in the psychology of the characters as surrealism might, the unreal attached to it has a greater meaning, and often an even greater number of interpretations.
The first author, and work, that I want to tackle are both relatively iconic. Indeed, there are few more recognizable Japanese authors than Natsume Souseki of Botchan, Kokoro, and I am a Cat fame. Yet perhaps one of his most unsung pieces of a series of quite simply excellent fantastical vignettes entitled Ten Nights of Dreams.
Ten Nights of Dreams is really a staggering piece of art, although only a couple of the ten stories can truly be considered magical realism. Ranging from poetic to satirical, each bit of the 45-odd pages that the book occupies remains thoroughly impressive. Especially excellent is the first dream, in which a woman dies and her lover waits 100 years for her, only to find a more fitting meeting in the end.
In short, it's simply more of Souseki's mastery at work. I recommend it to all who can appreciate the art in literature, rather than just the escapism.
Magical realism, under my definition at least, is a work that fundamentally displays a struggle between reality and unreality. It is inexplicable, but rather than having its roots in the psychology of the characters as surrealism might, the unreal attached to it has a greater meaning, and often an even greater number of interpretations.
The first author, and work, that I want to tackle are both relatively iconic. Indeed, there are few more recognizable Japanese authors than Natsume Souseki of Botchan, Kokoro, and I am a Cat fame. Yet perhaps one of his most unsung pieces of a series of quite simply excellent fantastical vignettes entitled Ten Nights of Dreams.
Ten Nights of Dreams is really a staggering piece of art, although only a couple of the ten stories can truly be considered magical realism. Ranging from poetic to satirical, each bit of the 45-odd pages that the book occupies remains thoroughly impressive. Especially excellent is the first dream, in which a woman dies and her lover waits 100 years for her, only to find a more fitting meeting in the end.
In short, it's simply more of Souseki's mastery at work. I recommend it to all who can appreciate the art in literature, rather than just the escapism.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
What I Talk About When I Talk About Running
I have a great respect for Murakami Haruki as a writer. His style may frequently be somewhat less-than-literary, but his novels, almost without fail, are always entertaining, and a few of them, particularly After Dark and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. If nothing else, a unique style and atmosphere permeates all of his writing, and despite being nonfiction, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running manages to capture the same aura. Part memoir, part exercise journal, part creative musing, Murakami gives a series of insights into his creative process through his attraction to running and small speeches about his life. He may be beginning to age (I believe he turns 60 this year), but he seems to be holding together quite well, and his writing shows that nothing so simple will end up as his bane.
If nothing else, the book comes across as a bit egotistical- he is, after all, assuming that his thoughts are relevant- but with Murakami perhaps such a thing is well-earned. In any case, the book is fundamentally interesting, but to one who doesn't appreciate his writing I daresay that reading it would be a terrible choice.
SCORE: 58/100
If nothing else, the book comes across as a bit egotistical- he is, after all, assuming that his thoughts are relevant- but with Murakami perhaps such a thing is well-earned. In any case, the book is fundamentally interesting, but to one who doesn't appreciate his writing I daresay that reading it would be a terrible choice.
SCORE: 58/100
Friday, June 5, 2009
All Cities are the Same
I'm still cheating a bit and picking books that I like, but think that is necessary every now and then.
We all have one place that's particularly important to us. It can be a home, a vacation location that we've idealized, or anything in-between, but there is always a source, a place that we compare all others to. A large part of one of Italo Calvino's most famous works, Invisible Cities, deals with just this phenomenon.
Through a series of tales of auspiciously named and designed cities, Marco Polo tells of his travels throughout the world, determined to impress and enlighten the Great Khan. Each of his tales are unique and of unique cities, exploring a different aspect of human beings in society, and yet all of them display traits of Polo's beloved Venice. The depth and range of the human traits explored here are astounding, both delving deep into society towards the nature of Justice and the inevitability of human interactions, to the mere simple nature of humans to absorb the stories of others.
The writing style is highly experimental, composed of short chapters each exploring an idea within the span a few paragraphs, and thinly linked by a series of conversations between the two makeshift protagonists. In the end, it is a story about humans, and an incredibly meditative one at that. As with If On a Winter's Night a Traveler, Calvino has managed to make all of us the main characters, though in an entirely different and much more symbolic fashion.
In the end, its starkness is its greatest weakness. The work is brilliant, but not as hard-hitting as it could have been if some of the talks had received greater elaboration.
SCORE: 88/100
We all have one place that's particularly important to us. It can be a home, a vacation location that we've idealized, or anything in-between, but there is always a source, a place that we compare all others to. A large part of one of Italo Calvino's most famous works, Invisible Cities, deals with just this phenomenon.
Through a series of tales of auspiciously named and designed cities, Marco Polo tells of his travels throughout the world, determined to impress and enlighten the Great Khan. Each of his tales are unique and of unique cities, exploring a different aspect of human beings in society, and yet all of them display traits of Polo's beloved Venice. The depth and range of the human traits explored here are astounding, both delving deep into society towards the nature of Justice and the inevitability of human interactions, to the mere simple nature of humans to absorb the stories of others.
The writing style is highly experimental, composed of short chapters each exploring an idea within the span a few paragraphs, and thinly linked by a series of conversations between the two makeshift protagonists. In the end, it is a story about humans, and an incredibly meditative one at that. As with If On a Winter's Night a Traveler, Calvino has managed to make all of us the main characters, though in an entirely different and much more symbolic fashion.
In the end, its starkness is its greatest weakness. The work is brilliant, but not as hard-hitting as it could have been if some of the talks had received greater elaboration.
SCORE: 88/100
Monday, June 1, 2009
Youth, Memory, and Loss; Ghosts by Kita Morio
Ghosts, originally 幽霊 (yuurei) in Japanese, is the story of a young man coming to terms with his past in the wake of the end of World War II. Plagued by deaths, frailty, and the struggles of ordinary adolescence, the protagonist loses himself in his memories, seemingly desperate to find something to cling to, to discover the meaning and worth in his past.
The story itself is nearly plotless, allowing Kita to instead focus on isolating incidents with the utmost detail, with prose so meticulous that the images are brought to life as paintings of the fullest color. Many of these events are remarkably mundane- eating a pickled plum in rice porridge while sick, the exploits of an ameteur magician uncle- but they each bring out an important aspect of the protagonist's personality, developing his character with a clear and distinct voice, and distorting the world into his own fictionalized bias. In this sense, Kita is very much a genius. He perfectly captures not only the memories themselves, but their small significances, without ever allowing a single word to be wasted.
The negative aspects of the work stem from Kita's premise as a whole. Ultimately, the book is more of a work of art than it is a story. Enjoyable, yes, meaningful, yes, but hardly a substantial tale. I personally find this style very compelling, but in the end it forces a lot of thought and inference onto the reader, which is a somewhat ameteurish style to write in. A good writer draws the reader in, rather than leaving the reader to initially immerse themselves in the world. Still, if you can take that initial step, Ghosts is never a book you will have been sorry to pick up.
SCORE: 83/100
The story itself is nearly plotless, allowing Kita to instead focus on isolating incidents with the utmost detail, with prose so meticulous that the images are brought to life as paintings of the fullest color. Many of these events are remarkably mundane- eating a pickled plum in rice porridge while sick, the exploits of an ameteur magician uncle- but they each bring out an important aspect of the protagonist's personality, developing his character with a clear and distinct voice, and distorting the world into his own fictionalized bias. In this sense, Kita is very much a genius. He perfectly captures not only the memories themselves, but their small significances, without ever allowing a single word to be wasted.
The negative aspects of the work stem from Kita's premise as a whole. Ultimately, the book is more of a work of art than it is a story. Enjoyable, yes, meaningful, yes, but hardly a substantial tale. I personally find this style very compelling, but in the end it forces a lot of thought and inference onto the reader, which is a somewhat ameteurish style to write in. A good writer draws the reader in, rather than leaving the reader to initially immerse themselves in the world. Still, if you can take that initial step, Ghosts is never a book you will have been sorry to pick up.
SCORE: 83/100
The Third Shelf Down: Literary Criticism and Discussion
Being the bibliophile that I am, I thought it might be a reasonable idea to start putting some reviews out there. Or that seems to be the basic idea, in any case. This post is mainly just to give a little background and insight into my own habits, to help the more discerning readers detect the biases that I myself am unable to eliminate in my work.
To start off, it's best to understand that I am the type of person that will basically read anything that's put in front of me. I tend not to be terribly picky in that sense- anything is worth a try, at least, but my opinions afterward can vary greatly. As such, I tend to read things even if they are by an author I greatly dislike, and to be perfectly honest I am somewhat doubtful that those reviews will be posted as often. I am often quite scathing when irritated.
As to my personal taste, it varies. I tend to drift towards the more experimental, as I find the originality involved fascinating. As a result I quite like titles along the lines of Calvino's If On a Winter's Night a Traveler. I also have a bit of a passion for magical-realism- Kafka, Murakami Haruki, and company are all enthralling to me. Other titles I am considerably fond of vary without much of a common thread, although many of them do contain a fair amount of philosophical musing. The Little Prince, The Divine Comedy, and many others fall into this category. On the more contemporary end, I've recently enjoyed the works of Jesse Ball (Samedi the Deafness, The Way Through Doors) as well as some slightly more mainstream works like The Book Theif. I will make a conscious effort to include both contemporary and classical titles in my reviewing cycle.
Speaking of the reviewing, I think it's best to move forward an explain a bit. I like to give scores out of 100. For literature, I tend not to have a specific rubric, but thoroughly explain my reasoning instead, as I feel that the pure written word is more of composium of elements rather than a building constructed of multiple blocks, if that makes any sort of sense. On the off chance that I ever do include a review of some other sort of medium- film, music, or perhaps even manga if the mood and title are appropriate- then a rubric may be included due to the visual and/or sonic elements. In any case, the average score is aimed at 50, rather than, say, 75, so it would be best not to think of things as succeeding or failing in the sense of the American school system.
In any case, if you did happen to stumble across my page here, welcome, and I hope you enjoy the work. I cannot promise any sort of regular schedule, but I'll make an effort for an inclusion every 1-2 weeks or so. As I live and study in Japan, things can get hectic at times.
To start off, it's best to understand that I am the type of person that will basically read anything that's put in front of me. I tend not to be terribly picky in that sense- anything is worth a try, at least, but my opinions afterward can vary greatly. As such, I tend to read things even if they are by an author I greatly dislike, and to be perfectly honest I am somewhat doubtful that those reviews will be posted as often. I am often quite scathing when irritated.
As to my personal taste, it varies. I tend to drift towards the more experimental, as I find the originality involved fascinating. As a result I quite like titles along the lines of Calvino's If On a Winter's Night a Traveler. I also have a bit of a passion for magical-realism- Kafka, Murakami Haruki, and company are all enthralling to me. Other titles I am considerably fond of vary without much of a common thread, although many of them do contain a fair amount of philosophical musing. The Little Prince, The Divine Comedy, and many others fall into this category. On the more contemporary end, I've recently enjoyed the works of Jesse Ball (Samedi the Deafness, The Way Through Doors) as well as some slightly more mainstream works like The Book Theif. I will make a conscious effort to include both contemporary and classical titles in my reviewing cycle.
Speaking of the reviewing, I think it's best to move forward an explain a bit. I like to give scores out of 100. For literature, I tend not to have a specific rubric, but thoroughly explain my reasoning instead, as I feel that the pure written word is more of composium of elements rather than a building constructed of multiple blocks, if that makes any sort of sense. On the off chance that I ever do include a review of some other sort of medium- film, music, or perhaps even manga if the mood and title are appropriate- then a rubric may be included due to the visual and/or sonic elements. In any case, the average score is aimed at 50, rather than, say, 75, so it would be best not to think of things as succeeding or failing in the sense of the American school system.
In any case, if you did happen to stumble across my page here, welcome, and I hope you enjoy the work. I cannot promise any sort of regular schedule, but I'll make an effort for an inclusion every 1-2 weeks or so. As I live and study in Japan, things can get hectic at times.
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