Anyone who reads my reviews knows I have "bedtime reads" to relax with. Well, this is one of my "morning reads", which are for the 30 min I spend in bAnyone who reads my reviews knows I have "bedtime reads" to relax with. Well, this is one of my "morning reads", which are for the 30 min I spend in bed each morning waiting for my medication to take effect, so I don't get up, forget and eat breakfast too soon. Morning reads are often nonfiction, not always, but requiring more attention on my part than I want to give when preparing for sleep. I found it fascinating. I love oral histories/diaries, a person's story in their own words. Published in the late 1980s, Japan had changed out of all recognition for the tellers of the tale. All of them spoke of how fast the changes had come, except for one old gentleman who said, "Well of course things have changed after all this time!"
Sadly, the ebook edition has only fragments of the illustrations, which I'm sure were beautiful in the print editions. I thought perhaps they had been divided, so you'd get half on one "page" and half on the next, but that was not so, at least in the one I read....more
I have wanted to read this book for a long time! Written several centuries later than The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon, the first section reflects that I have wanted to read this book for a long time! Written several centuries later than The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon, the first section reflects that author's style when writing of court life. However, the lives of these two noblewomen could hardly be more different.
Sei Shonagon went to court as a young woman and was married and had two or three children, though spouse and family get no mention in her writings. Lady Nijo, however, was taken to court at the tender age of three after her mother's death. Her grandfather and father were both ministers at court, and the ex-emperor at that time promised to "assume complete care of her." This care apparently included raping her when she was only 14 "because he had loved her since she was a child." I call it rape as it was not consensual; he (a grown man in his thirties) came into her bedchamber and pressured her to have sex with him, while she wept and pleaded with him to leave her alone. Her own father tells her not to fuss, as the ex-emperor will be able to help her get on in life. Apparently it didn't occur to her father, courtier of noble lineage that he was, to find a real husband for his only child. What a good parent.
Later, another "lover" forces her to have sex with him when she is pregnant with said ex-emperor's child. She is naturally afraid for her unborn baby, but somehow convinces herself that this rape is somehow a "love encounter"--though first she speaks of her "happy dreams", she then writes that she "lay in bed and wept until noon" the next day, "because her lot was not going to be a happy one."
It certainly wasn't. She had four children by the ex-emperor, his brother and another courtier, but they were all taken away from her to be given to other noble families. She never saw them again. Never mind that she herself was of noble lineage, she was a young woman and alone in the world, particularly after her father's death; though she speaks of being related by blood to many court nobles, they apparently ignored her existence completely. She got used to being a sort of lower concubine, used and abused by men in power; at one point she connives to help the ex-emperor have sex with a supposed "vestal virgin" of the Ise shrine, and thinks nothing of it. Said ex-emperor remarks: "The cherry blossom is beautiful, but the branch is easy to break and the blossom easy to pluck." So basically, yeah, she was easy, she had it coming. What a refined nobleman.
This may indeed be Nijo's actual diary, but it reflects the style of Heian romantic novels such as The Tale of Genji and others, filled with detailed conversations, romantic meditations and weeping while looking at the moon, and poems, both her own and those written by others. I was intrigued by the notes from the 17th century copyist deploring the fact that two sections had been cut away with a knife, while another was cut off with a sword! I wondered what she wrote that was so inflammatory (compared to the rest of the imperial antics) that it would be chopped out with a weapon!
Finally in her late twenties she sickens of her life at court (knowing no one is really looking out for her), and after the ex-emperor tires of her and hands her off to his brother to use, she becomes a Buddhist nun and travels from shrine to shrine, weeping for her lost youth and divided between the desire to return to court and her knowledge that court life wasn't all that great (at least for her). Apparently as a nun she didn't even have the security of belonging to one particular convent. She ends up being so poor she has to sell her last family keepsakes (her mother's makeup case and her father's writing case) to make ends meet. Oh sure, she says it's to buy paper and ink to copy the sutras--but she also mentions going hungry and sleeping under the stars, so...
Sadly, though there are footnotes to the Kindle edition, tapping on them does precisely nothing; you have to wait until you reach the end of each chapter to read them and there's no context phrase to help you remember what it was about. I had to wonder why the translator chose to use the ridiculous western term "Generalissimo" for the position of Shogun? Most readers interested enough to read this book will have an idea of what a Shogun is, why drag a Spanish barbarism into it? (I'm a Spanish translator myself, and the word is misused for a Shogun anyway). Why did he use words like "lute" and "harp" for well-known Japanese instruments such as the biwa and shamisen or koto? And what kind of colour is "reddish blue", exactly? Red violet, perhaps, but not "reddish blue." 4.5 stars. How I would love to see a translation of this book by Meredith McKinney....more
This is another book I had begun to think I had dreamed. I first read it in the early 7os, when at age 10 I was allowed access to the adult stacks in This is another book I had begun to think I had dreamed. I first read it in the early 7os, when at age 10 I was allowed access to the adult stacks in the library. At that point in my small rural Midwestern life, I had never seen a "real live" Jewish person and New York City was only in the movies and on TV. I was attracted by the stars in the title, I guess, and I remember reading it and laughing over what I understood of it. I do remember a story that is missing from the edition I just re-read, titled "The Unforgivable Feh!" Apparently "Feh!" is a scornful sound made to imply that something is not very good, unimpressive etc.
At this reading, the many students remind me of the ESL students I have tried to teach over the years. There's the guy who's sure his fractured grammar is right--to the point of telling me "it's in my other English book at home!" The kid who's too shy to make a mistake out loud, so they never talk in class. The woman who thinks you're going to tap her on the head with your magic wand and make her speak perfect English in ten sessions or less--usually they last for far less. The man who believes the "English without effort" ads, and can't understand it doesn't work that way in real life.
I admit I was a bit surprised at the "first year" class with its rather advanced syllabus, but then a) this was set in the 30s or so, with much greater emphasis on actual grammar and study and b) the people did after all live in NYC. Talk about an immersion course! The only thing I didn't like is the teacher/narrator seeing his students as "childlike/childish" and yet they are all adults, most older than himself, and working at jobs. But then I remembered the attitudes of many ESL teachers I have known who transplanted themselves from the UK/US/Australia to Spain (usually temporarily) and held my peace....more
Much more readable than some of the modern translations of these works. Shelved as 1920s because that's when this Gutenberg translation was produced. Much more readable than some of the modern translations of these works. Shelved as 1920s because that's when this Gutenberg translation was produced. At first I thought that the Lady Izumi's diary was more of a romance novel, as it sounded very much like the ladies in Shin Genji Monogatari who lived in the countryside and hoped against hope for a visit from their noble lovers. Then I realised that she is mentioned in the Lady Murasaki's diary as a "scandalous" woman given her affair with the prince and her going and coming to and from the court. It was also interesting to read passing mentions of Sei Shonagon and realise how admired she was--even if cattily by some of the court ladies. I can see this will be a good reread for evenings when I want to relax.
The book includes a few simple illustrations which reveal court dress and the layout of noble houses and palaces of the time. Modern editors please take note! ...more
Strictly for hardline Austen fans, of which I am not really one, but I am an oddball who tutors Eng Lit for enjoyment. And it's a good thing, as readiStrictly for hardline Austen fans, of which I am not really one, but I am an oddball who tutors Eng Lit for enjoyment. And it's a good thing, as reading this book reminded me of sitting in on some of my literature courses in college; the author writes as if Austen really sat down and devised all those symbols, emphases, motifs etc. etc. before she set pen to paper, instead of composing spontaneously and creatively as I'm sure she did.
I disliked Mullan's repeated assertion that Austen employed this or that "trick", as if she were a conjuror at a children's party trying to amaze the little ones (her readers). He is also not above riding his personal hobbyhorses round and round Austen's front garden as if it were his own personal paddock, while slyly belittling his contemporaries in criticism for doing much the same thing. For example, that whole bit about how odd it is that sisters share a bed. I grew up in a large family with a small house and my sister and I shared a bed because there was no choice. There was no weird emotional or sexual stuff going on, either--it was a question of space.
Mullan also is not above spoiling whole books for anyone who gets to his before any one of Jane's, which is a rather nasty but increasingly prevalent trend in books of this type. Also--and this is an entirely personal quibble--the author seems to feel he has to draw his quotations from the old three-volume novel format in which Austen was originally published, as if ignoring the modern one-volume editions somehow gave him more nous. It doesn't.
A decent enough read, but I found him annoying in large doses, so it has taken me several days to finish this book....more
This is one of those deceptively short, deceptively simple little books thatyou read repeatedly over the years and is somehow different at each readinThis is one of those deceptively short, deceptively simple little books thatyou read repeatedly over the years and is somehow different at each reading. The first time, as a nonbeliever, I found it witty and amusing. In later years, as a convert, it acquired depth--or perhas I mean I did. Several years ago (many it must be, now) I read it once and thought, "Oh, well, yes, it was good in its day, but I've outgrown this..." And yet when I have had to read it in recent years I wonder where I was in my life to turn against it like that. It's still good. It's still well-written. The ideas it presents in the distorting mirror of Screwtape's correspondence are still true, and I applaud C. S. Lewis the logician, thinker and eminent "mere" Christian's understanding of the human psyche and spirit that produced this book.
In the introduction to the Toast, Lewis writes of the companion book he felt this one required, and that would never be written--archangelic advice to a young guardian angel on its first posting. I was thinking this morning that it could be written by looking into this book and taking the opposite view...but then Screwtape is right; contemporary Christianity in the West is no longer producing thinkers and writers who are both eminently logical, profoundly "merely" Christian, and enormously witty all at the same time.
The title is a taste pretentious, implying as it does that all other biographers have somehow faked us out, or at the very least "got it wrong" while The title is a taste pretentious, implying as it does that all other biographers have somehow faked us out, or at the very least "got it wrong" while Ms Byrne is the only one with the inside info. Uh-huh. I can believe that the biographies published by family members may have had their own image that they wanted to present of an author who was on the crest of the wave when she died, but really, dear?
I was pleased to discover I wasn't mistaken in my belief that "Northanger Abbey" may have been the last of Austen's books to be published but was first written long before...and had been tweaked and polished over the years. Just because an original copy lay dormant at a publisher who for whatever reason decided not to bring it out, does not mean the author didn't keep a copy (which we know she did) and continue to work with it once she realised that publisher wasn't going to do anything with it.
A good read, though the conceit of telling the story through objects lets Byrne down a bit, as it makes the text more rambling and diffuse than it needs to be, taking us back and forth in time and place and groups of people to a confusing degree. Including the portrait of two girls in the Mansfield Park section--along with a word-for-word quote from Byrne's other book, Belle: The Slave Daughter and the Lord Chief Justice was unnatural and just this side of tacky, as she really had to force the puff of her own book to fit into the narrative of Austen's life. Again, the fact that the publication date is a year after this present title doesn't mean it wasn't written first. The quote makes a great deal more sense in the context of that book, as well. Also, the attempt to "modernise" the useful piece of furnishing common all over the Western world and known as a "writing desk" or "writing slope" by calling it a "laptop" was just silly. No one in those days called it that, and if Byrne is such a historical authority, she knows this. Things like this are what cost her a star for this reader. I did like the discussion of Austen's deeply but privately-held Christian beliefs, as there was neither apology nor idealisation on the part of the author.
Given the structure, it wasn't the sort of book I could sit down and read straight through; in fact it took longer to finish than I'd hoped because of the rambling style. But informative and interesting. Pity she didn't have a better editor....more
(Note: since the last round of updates GR has gone completely crazy. It tells me I have already reviewed another edition of this book. I have not. Thi(Note: since the last round of updates GR has gone completely crazy. It tells me I have already reviewed another edition of this book. I have not. This isn't even the edition I read. I don't care. On to the important stuff.)
Oh, my.
Read this book. Do not, however, sit down and try to read it all at one go. It's not the book to take on a long flight, for example. As a friend of mine says, this is expensive perfume. It is a fine brandy. It is best read in small sips, rolled on the tongue, appreciated. Like perfume and brandy, too much of a good thing all at once is simply too much and you'd end up not liking it. (Think of being forcibly drenched in Chanel 5 or drinking a whole tumbler brimful of Couvousier VSOP. Ick.)
Tragic, comic, heartbreakingly real. True in the way the best fiction is true, because we nod and say "Yes. That is life. I have lived that."
Without intention I had read myself away from girls my age and was in the true sense of the word, Alien, other. That Secondary school would be better, that I would encounter like-minded girls, Serious Girls, was not then in doubt, in the same way that at the end of Secondary I would cherish a brief confidence that in Third Level things at last would be different and intelligence and oddness found to be normal.
Oh god, Ruth, I hear you. My mother was told (in my presence), "Don't worry, her peers will grow up to her." I'm in my fifties and still waiting, still hearing people tell me I'm "too smart" for people to relate to. (And that is such a cop-out. What they usually mean is, they're not interested in the same things and can't imagine why I am, so they put it on me. If I were smart, I'd have a career instead of scraping to make ends meet.)
The more you hope, the more you hurt. The best of us hope the most. That's God's sense of humour.
Indeed.
All writers are waiting for replies. That's what I've learned. Maybe all human beings are.
They are. Not necessarily praise or applause--simple acknowledgement will do to be going on with.
At no point does Ruth tell us what illness plagues her, because that's not the point. She is not the main character. She, like Horatio, draws her breath in pain to tell the story.
Having read and enjoyed Tsutsui's Paprika and The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, the title of this one intrigued me, but it took me several weeks to reaHaving read and enjoyed Tsutsui's Paprika and The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, the title of this one intrigued me, but it took me several weeks to read through this collection of short stories. I don't usually read short stories, they're not my thing, but I was curious. This is biting social satire of the material world that is modern Japan: money, gadgets, work as an end in itself, the trappings of "success"...and then there's the title story, the last and longest in the collection. Up to this point the stories had started to pall a bit, but since I was proofreading an article on plant reproduction, it was like reading a spoof of the paper I was working on! The conversations between the "erudite academics" echoed my work so thoroughly that it had me in stitches.
Some of the stories are funny, some are strange, and some flat-down disturbing. Yasutaka Tsutsui is an odd bird, and his work won't be to everyone's taste, particularly if you don't know much about contemporary Japan. If you do, or if you simply enjoy the absurdly real (or the really absurd), hang onto the bar and enjoy the ride!...more
I've wanted to read this book for a long time. I don't know if Terkel was the first to publish everyman interviews about lives from all walks of life I've wanted to read this book for a long time. I don't know if Terkel was the first to publish everyman interviews about lives from all walks of life from hookers to priests to craftsmen to steelworkers to TV producers, but it certainly has been a reference text. It was fascinating, in great part because of the time-capsule aspect. Life and work have changed out of all recognition in the past 45 years; the secretarial skills I worked so hard to acquire in those days are worth precisely nothing on the job market today, among other things. And yet so much hasn't changed at all. The glass ceiling is still firmly in place in many professions, "affirmative action" notwithstanding. Sometimes you have to read between the lines to really understand what's not being said--perhaps because the worker didn't feel safe saying it. So many people were in "dead-end jobs" during the optimistic seventies...and this was before the greedy eighties and nineties that created the crisis we are still dealing with today. These days where I live, a "dead-end job" is better than no job at all, and The Man, as we used to call bigwigs, is well aware of that. I had flashbacks of the "wildcat" trucker strikes of the late 60s and early 70s. Friends of the adults in my circle got badly hurt/killed, being pulled out of the cabs of their trucks when asleep on a layby. Anyone who doesn't "believe" in the mafia knows nothing of recent US history--Teamsters etc.
I was more interested in the stories the working stiff in factories or transportation or office work, than those of the upper echelons such as professional coaches and different types of brokers (real estate, stocks, what have you), perhaps because the latter talk so much organic fertiliser. The Wall Street broker in particular talks out of both sides of his face; one minute it's a mug's game, totally rigged--the next, he provides an important service in the world. Guess it depends whether or not he's making cash. The coach who spouts "motivational" BS such as "people with problems are dead, winners solve their own problems"...yeah, guy, that's why you've spent your life coaching a second-rate team, or playing a children's game on a third-rate team.
The nurse's aide chilled my blood; she may have been posing as tough-as-nails, but she may also have been a psychopath, truly unable to feel empathy toward anyone. However, my blood soon boiled when reading of the teacher with 30+ years experience in the profession who manages to correct all her papers in class time and forgets the school "absolutely, absolutely, absolutely" the moment she walks out the door at 3.30. I knew so many teachers like that as a student myself, who were walking in place and did no preparation for new lessons as they had been using the same stuff for decades. "I'm not a doctor...I don't believe you should study the family background...I don't want to hear it" she says, epitomising the attitudes of my own teachers who turned a blind eye to abuse, incest and the effects of alcoholic parents on a child's learning. To her, Hispanic elementary students getting coaching in their own language so they can learn English is "a sin," and they are "spoiling the nice little Jewish boy" in her class by mere contact with him. The Polish (white) families are "wonderful" and the two black families she has had contact with are "sweet" (ie docile) while "the Spanish" (by which she means Puerto Ricans) are "terrible and destructive." She admits to teaching by rote and giving no explanations because they're not smart enough to understand anyway. Well, maybe if they got someone who could actually teach....someone like the free school principal who has about 50 kids in his centre and gives all his free time to making it work.
Again the optimism of the seventies was brought forward in the stories of many who changed their lives entirely, left behind corporate jobs to strike out into something completely different, because they felt their work was dehumanising. We even read the ramblings of a "hippie"--ie dissatisfied young man who subconsciously (or maybe not) thinks he should be paid for...well, just "being." Nice work if you can get it....more
I really enjoyed God is Red: The Secret Story of How Christianity Survived and Flourished in Communist China, though "enjoy" is an odd word to use. PeI really enjoyed God is Red: The Secret Story of How Christianity Survived and Flourished in Communist China, though "enjoy" is an odd word to use. Perhaps I should say, I got a lot out of it. So I was eager to read this, Yiwu's first book, which is/was banned in China. He writes about a life he knows, having been a political prisoner, street musician, and man on the run for many years. From the simply unfortunate to the conmen and thieves, we are introduced to the marginalised members that no society wants to acknowledge. Some of those interviewed have suffered from political events such as the Tienamen Square massacre or Maoist purges, while others suffer due to their own ignorance or criminal choices. On occasion, the author remarks to his subject, "You're such a jerk!"--but only when justified, as in the case of the human traffickers, the "illegal border crosser" or the "migrant worker" who basically ditches his wife and three daughters and lights out for pastures new, and claims that he can't be held responsible for his own genitals' desire to breed. When the author presses the human trafficker to acknowledge that he makes money from selling ignorant young girls into prostitution, the reply is: "She's the child of ignorant peasants; what does she know of happiness?"
What indeed.
Not a book to be read straight through justlikethat. Some of the people I met in this book, such as the sleepwalker and the "leper" who is not a leper at all, will haunt me for months. I learned that Mao Tse-Tung invented both the concept and the term "political correctness" though of course with a different meaning, though the Western interpretation is as astringent in its own way....more
Interesting, if you like what reads like blogposts and/or a newspaper column. If not, you won't want to sit down and read it justlikethat. Some of theInteresting, if you like what reads like blogposts and/or a newspaper column. If not, you won't want to sit down and read it justlikethat. Some of the old wives' tales I knew were hokum; others, don't surprise me. Because yeah, parents control their kids anyway they can, especially little boys with more curiosity than sense! I will say, I stabbed myself in the knee with a pair of scissors at about age 10 by running with them on carpet. I tripped and fell, and ended up getting 2 stitches.) About 10 years ago here in Spain they came out with crustless sandwich bread, and on the package it said that their bread was better for dieters without the crusts because that's where most of the calories are. Yeah, cause when you bake bread the calories migrate to the surface!
What annoyed me was the total lack of documentation, sources, footnotes etc. True to American tradition, he cites "studies"--who did it? Size of sample? Duration? Who paid for it? (always the kicker). Once in a while he will drop a name, but footnotes would have been nice. Otherwise I just get the impression that he has trawled Snopes and co. and did a c/p job, rather like those craft websites that "curate content" (ie present patterns as if they had come up with them, and then when you click--surprise!--they take you to someone else's website.) The metre at the end of each section was just silly--particularly when he totally pans some old idea and then the "metre" says "mostly true" or he says "yup that's right" and then it's "mostly false." Snopes, much?
Heck, I can run Google all by myself, dude.
Also, he cites stuff that "goes back as far as the 1980s" because, yeah--that's as far back as he goes. I was born in 1962 and a lot of this stuff was old hat even then. Like people who speak of "classic rock" and they mean from the 80s! Uh, no.
Popcorn, but nothing more. You won't remember any of this ten minutes after you close the book, but he'll have sold another copy. Check it out of the library instead....more
Very much a "lite" social history. It was not until I read the whole thing that I realised this is probably a collection of the author's blogposts, whVery much a "lite" social history. It was not until I read the whole thing that I realised this is probably a collection of the author's blogposts, which explains quite a lot. It's mental popcorn for Austen fans, but it's all very superficial--not a single footnote. If you want depth, look into one of the more scholarly tomes. Sullivan gleans most of her Regency knowledge from Austen's books themselves (and occasionally the film/TV directors' versions).
I get very tired of the "women didn't wear drawers" thing. Everyone seems to forget that women have menstruated since there were women, and then there are...well, fluids and things, with consequent smells and mess. (I'm a woman myself, I know this.) Back in the days when cloth was all they had, I know that at least the high-class women did take the days off, and the "naice" term for it was "being indisposed/unwell" and no questions were asked. (Why do you think all those rich ladies had "sick headaches" that kept them from leaving their rooms for days on end?) Since we know that cloths were indeed all they had, they had to have something to hold them in place. And I refuse to believe that particularly the high-class girls and women would trot about with their yoohoos waving in the breeze! I'm pretty sure that by the early 19th century there would be drawers, or pantalettes, or something. They certainly had them in other places. (Why else do you think the French revolutionaries were called sans culottes--men without drawers?) And another thing: "riding" implied "horse" in those days, and still does among the mounted classes, unless modified by "bicycle", "motorbike" etc. When Ms Sullivan repeatedly used the term "horseback riding", she gave herself away as a non-member of the gentry!
An OK bedtime read, but best read in snippets, not straight through, as it's too fluffy for serious perusal. A huge percentage is a description of the books themselves (crowded with spoilers for anyone who hasn't read them, particularly when she reveals absolutely all of Sense and Sensibility) and the films/TV series. She gets the information from other sources, and beyond "curating content" and reading other people's stuff, you can tell not a lot of personal work went into it. Rather like a highschool term paper. ...more
Don't be fooled by the title; the stories in this collection are not strictly "Miss Marple" stories. Spanning four decades, it's more what I would calDon't be fooled by the title; the stories in this collection are not strictly "Miss Marple" stories. Spanning four decades, it's more what I would call a mixture of "puzzle" stories, many of which do not include your actual murder. Christie shows her skills as an author as she runs the gamut from murder mystery to revenge to light comico-romantic puzzle to some rather dark snippets I might have expected to see dramatised on the original "Twilight Zone." (Particularly the last story in the book, "The Dressmaker's Doll.")
An enjoyable read, particularly as the stories are arranged in chronological order of publication. The names of the different magazines are given--all history now--and we can see how Christie's craft developed and changed over time. Some stories were re-worked at a later date to star Poirot (who does not appear in a single story in this volume); others will be familiar to readers of later authors such as Kerry Greenwood.I was intrigued to see that one of the main characters in a 1920s story is a young man named "James Bond." Could Fleming have read the tale in a magazine and chosen the name for 007, without remembering where it came from?...more
Short stories are not usually my thing, detective shorts more so (or perhaps I mean less so. You know what I mean.) But Parker Pyne is not really a deShort stories are not usually my thing, detective shorts more so (or perhaps I mean less so. You know what I mean.) But Parker Pyne is not really a detective, and I really enjoyed this book. Parker Pyne is a refreshing change from Poirot and Marple, which may be why Christie created him. He's not a detective but a fixer--he fixes lives, situations and feelings. "Are you unhappy? Consult Mr Parker Pyne," says his ad in the agony column of the Times--and of course we all know that only decent people advertise in The Times! From arranging adventures for a bored ex-soldier to relighting the spark of a prosaic marriage, Parker Pyne can do--though quite how he does is never fully revealed.
It took me a while to realise that "Parker Pyne" is meant to be a double-barrelled surname, like Smythe-Jones. He does have some very 1930s attitudes (women enjoy being domineered over, etc) but then that's when it was written, and PP is a man in his 50s at that time, so definitely a 19th century man, as Bogart once described himself. However, there are some surprising twists in these short tales that lift them out of the genre of formula fiction--something I can't say for the Marple and Poirot shorts I've read....more
A useful book for those who want to read Heian Japanese classics with something like understanding, but it's worth bearing in mind that Ivan Morris waA useful book for those who want to read Heian Japanese classics with something like understanding, but it's worth bearing in mind that Ivan Morris was born in Britain in 1925 and spent his life teaching Japanese literature at the university level; this of course informs his discourse, as they say in literature classes. His personal prejudices show at every turn--oddly, in spite of a lifetime studying the period, he doesn't seem to like the Heian aristocracy much, except as a way to point up how superior his own culture was in 1964, when the book was published. He is so very snarky about the men wearing facepowder and perfume, while merrily forgetting the powdered wigs, makeup, patches and perfumes used by 18th-century European nobles. As for the use of incense and scent, which for Morris seems to be damning evidence of "femininity" (shock! horror!) on the part of Heian noblemen--at least they were trying to cover up any unpleasant effluvia, which is more than the European populace was doing at the time. He can't help sneering at the Japanese "lack of scientific knowledge"; well, how much of that did Europe have in the ninth century? Yet over a thousand years ago in Heian Kyo a very sophisticated culture of paper (the right texture, colour and fold for the proper purpose) as well as dyes, incenses and perfumes was already in place, not to mention the use of the water clock, which Morris buries under the term "clepsydra", ignoring the technological marvel it was for the period, particularly compared to what 10th-century Europe was using to tell time: the sun. He neglects to remember that the mechanical timepiece was not used in Britain until the late 12th century.
The book would have been much improved by the inclusion of a few simple maps and line-drawings of the layout of the city, articles of dress, and houses, particularly as I find it impossible to visualise maps etc. Fortunately, I own a copy of Meredith McKinney's outstanding translation of The Pillow Book which includes at least a few simple illustrations.
I wonder how much Dr Morris knew or understood of Buddhism, Shinto or Zen; he repeatedly refers to Buddhist beliefs as "chilling" (without really explaining why he finds them so; however he doesn't appear to reckon much to Christianity, either), as well as continually talking of the "Buddhist church/clergyman". There's rather a difference between the generic term "cleric" and the C of E word "clergyman", and as a translator Morris should have known that. Perhaps he did. Never mind; he also seems to consider Confucianism a religion instead of an ethical system--and yes, there is a difference. The chapter he heads "Superstitions" helped me understand the concept of directional taboos; I wondered how he would have reacted to the modern respect for many aspects of traditional Asian medicine, particularly acupuncture. (He probably would have been horrified.)ETA: I spent and interesting evening comparing Heian paintings of people and horses with 10th century English art. Guess who won.
I'm glad to be forewarned that the ending of The Tale of Genji is apparently abrupt, because the author may have died before the manuscript was finished. The discussion of the evolution of the Japanese language from the 9th century to today was interesting, but I flat down refuse to believe that a notable Japanese scholar would actually prefer Arthur Waley's English translation of the book to the original! No, sorry, Dr Morris, I'm not buying that one. I don't know of a single English literature scholar who prefers to read Shakespeare in German, either. Which brings me to a few yowls about Morris' own writing; like so many members of academia of his time (and a few today), he feels the need to use very abstruse language from time to time, lest we forget that he's a full professor. One moment he says that an idea is "completely off the mark", the next we are told that "The reader may find such questions otiose." Well, the reader might--if he or she had any idea what the word meant! Personally, I had to Google it, as it is nowhere in my various dictionaries. Apparently it means "useless or unnecessary"--rather like using "otiose" in a sentence. Let alone telling us that the ladies' "lustrations were rendered nugatory." Which, being interpreted, means that all their offerings were for nothing. Silly me, I thought that teaching was about communicating information or wisdom, not obfuscating it to make yourself look smarter than the average bear.
A book to be read slowly, not devoured. Four stars for content and layout, three and a half for the author's condescending attitudes....more
Mansfield is one of my favourite authors. I first discovered a battered paperback pirate edition of Journal of Katherine Mansfield in a second-hand shMansfield is one of my favourite authors. I first discovered a battered paperback pirate edition of Journal of Katherine Mansfield in a second-hand shop, and read it literally to pieces before it ocurred to me to look for her short stories. Her writing makes fine end-of-the-day reading; not to sit and read straight through, justlikethat, but to sip and savour. Short story is not usually my favourite genre, but then KM's short stories are completely unorthodox. She herself said that the more she wrote, the more she became aware that "what I am doing has no form!" Or at least no recognisable, codified form for the time.
At last, for the first time, the reader has access to all her stories in one place. Those who have read her Journal in either the short form or the larger, exhaustive Katherine Mansfield Notebooks: Complete Edition will recognise jottings that were later expanded and completed. Even the fragments of scenes collated and published as The Dove's Nest And Other Stories have a finished air about them; some of them shine like jewels. One of my favourites is "The Canary" (1923), a deceptively simple monologue by an older woman. There's "nothing to it"--but there's so much in it!
I wish Penguin had placed the stories and fragments in the order in which they were written, or at least published, so that it would be easier to see the progression in her craftmanship as a writer. As it is, the first collection, In a German Pension: 13 Stories comes at the very end of this edition. I guess you could say it provides a stark contrast with her more mature work; I have to admit I didn't like it much. I don't know whether she was consciously trying to be cynical and blasé, playing to an English audience of the time, or whether she simply disliked Germany, the Germans, and (particularly) their food and conversational habits, and used these stories as an exercise in payback! The influence of other authors is more pronounced in "Pension", particularly Chekov whom Mansfield so admired, in the final story, "A Blaze." If Elsa wasn't inspired by Professor Sebrekov's wife Elena from Uncle Vanya, I'd like very much to know where she came from. Another "German" story, "The Child Who Was Tired", resonates heavily with an older French short story (the name of its author escapes me), also about a child-nursemaid who strangles a baby just so she can get some sleep.
This is one of those books I will return to again and again. Thank you, Kathy.
ETA: The short story that Mansfield copied was by Anton Chekov and one of the English titles for it is "Sleepy." Mansfield was instrumental in translating many of Chekov's works, but in this case admiration spilled over into rank plagiarism. Perhaps she knew few people of the day had or would read it. Not nice at all, Kathy. ...more
This is a heavy tome in many ways. For years I re-read and treasured a totally pirated edition of Journal of Katherine Mansfield, which I had re-boundThis is a heavy tome in many ways. For years I re-read and treasured a totally pirated edition of Journal of Katherine Mansfield, which I had re-bound last year (and the stinky printer removed the original cover, against my specific instructions to bind it in as part of the book! Not only that, they threw it away!!)
A few years ago (or perhaps many, I forget) I bought this complete edition, along with some of Mansfield's stories. It weighs about 3 pounds, and that's in paperback. Mansfield had a habit of going through her letters and papers and burning them periodically--which at the rate she moved around England and France is hardly surprising. How glad I am that she didn't actually destroy quite all of the "huge complaining diaries" that she felt took so much time away from her real work as an author. Because to be honest, I prefer her journals--but then I am a snoop by nature. I'd never read your personal notebook without permission, but I do like to read collections of letters and diaries. Mansfield's are masterly depictions of a mood, a scene, a moment, all that "external life" that she loved so much--but a great deal of her internal life as well.
The facsimiles of some pages show the enormous task the editor set herself. Mansfield's writing was by her own admission impossibly bad. Was it a way to enforce secrecy? It may have been. OTOH, it may simply be that writing with a nib and ink makes scribblers of busy people. It certainly would me, and I have nothing like her excuse. The editor manages to clarify some obscure passages, and some that J. M. Murray bowdlerised; I refuse to accept that he could misinterpret her handwriting to that degree, given the content of some of the changed texts. He either wanted to protect his own ego or Mansfield's "image."...more
St Therese is a hobby (see also mild obsession) of mine. I was lucky enough to find the complete edition second hand online. Do not be confused; this St Therese is a hobby (see also mild obsession) of mine. I was lucky enough to find the complete edition second hand online. Do not be confused; this is not the French version of Therese and Lisieux, but a much longer, amplified and commented work published five years after the shorter one. Goodreads appears to be unaware that they are not the same book. They aren't. While most of the material in Therese and Lisieux is reproduced here, there are a few things that didn't make the cut, such as the photo of and story about her dog, Tom, following the cart of furniture into the Carmel garden and recognising her after several years of separation.
For those who are interested in St Therese, this is an excellent resource. Aside from the numerous illustrations, the text is extremely informative: on her life, on 19th century French catholicism, on some of the legends such as why St Anthony is considered the patron saint of lost articles. A book to treasure....more
A calming, fascinating and hugely enjoyable read. I didn't know what to expect when I started this, but what I got was immensely satisfying. This is aA calming, fascinating and hugely enjoyable read. I didn't know what to expect when I started this, but what I got was immensely satisfying. This is a book to be sipped slowly, like a fine brandy. Lots of footnotes, lots of things to think about. A thousand years old and really not much has changed, though so much has changed so much.
Sei Shonagon was a lady in waiting (for lack of a better term) to the Empress in Kyoto, over a thousand years ago. The Pillow Book is very much like what used to be termed a "pocket book" in the 17th-19th centuries: personal notes, memories, poems the author wrote herself or liked, lists of things she liked or disliked. Ostensibly private, it was however a conscious effort at "spin": the author was a member of one ruling clan which felt threatened (with reason, as it turned out) by the rise of another. Sei Shonagon presents an intentionally crafted view of life at the Kyoto court, with emphasis on how "delightful" and charming it all was. (However, she's not above being catty at times, and even a bit petty: in her view "the lower orders" shouldn't even admire their betters, as praise coming from the mouths of the hoi polloi is actually degrading!) At a time when Buddhism and Shinto were officially at loggerheads, we are given many descriptions of pilgrimages and ceremonies, from processions to shamanistic healing sessions. Who knew that a thousand plus years ago, sleeves were so important! For men and women both, the layered effect of kimono sleeves was important enough to make sure they were carefully arranged and in the right colours. If no one was there to see the effect it could spoil an outing in a carriage! Women spent a lot of their time sitting behind blinds and screens, but they managed to see everything they wanted to see. They must have done most of their sleeping during the day, as there are repeated references to sitting up talking all night until the servants bring around the morning washing water. Sei was apparently married, though her husband disappears early in the narrative, and there are several references to amorous encounters that can't all be based on hearsay! Living in a traditional open-plan Japanese building without inner walls doesn't seem to have cramped anyone's sexual style, either. Though Sei had at least two children, they are never mentioned, probably because pregnancy and motherhood were not sophisticated and charming.
The contrast between life in the court of Japan in about the year 970 and in Europe of the same period was intriguing. Over a thousand years ago the Japanese fascination with beautiful paper products and getting "the correct paper" for a particular use was already in place. Apparently it was the gift of a large quantity of top-quality paper that inspired the author to "make a bound book" (hand-bound, too) and start writing. Later she sent a draft of it to the princess, only to have the messenger fumble the parcel and drop it down the stairs!
The translation by Meredith McKinney is absolutely wonderful, preserving the freshness of narration without using ultra-modern turns of phrase that would grate on the ear. Though the numerous footnotes require quite a lot of flipping back and forth, they add a great deal to the reader's understanding.
This is a book that repays repeated readings, like listening to a favourite piece of music. It almost inspires me to start my own journal again, after a hiatus of nearly 40 years....more
Orinoco Womble (tidy bag and all)
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