No comments about INVISIBLE THREAD, THE (In My Own Words).

1 comments about Five Modern Japanese Novelists.

1. This small book about FIVE MODERN JAPANESE NOVELISTS by Donald Keene, who had opportunities to make more observations about them than anyone could possibly remember in the years during which he became aware of their work, met them, read their books, wrote about or tried to put their words into English (Supplemental readings at the end include the titles of his major history of Japanese literature, DAWN TO THE WEST, and his translations of AFTER THE BANQUET, FIVE MODERN NO PLAYS, and MADAME DE SADE by Mishima Yukio, and translations of FRIENDS, THE MAN WHO TURNED INTO A STICK, and THREE PLAYS by Abe Kobo). Keene is so familiar with the word order used for Japanese names that it shows up in the oddest places. Maybe this is for humor, which always seems to be welcome at Columbia University:
   
   "I first met Abe Kobo in the autumn of 1964. He had come to New York . . . With them came a young Japanese woman. I confess that I was rather miffed when I was informed that the young woman was their interpreter, and in order to demonstrate that I had no need of an interpreter, I studiously avoided even looking at her. It was only years later that I learned that she was Ono Yoko." (p. 65).
   
   These people are all so smart, it even seems funny that they have so much trouble fitting in, as when Abe graduated from medical school "in 1948 but was given his degree only on condition that he never practice medicine;" (p. 74). Early in the book, Keene has a few details about being "at the U.S. Navy's Japanese-language school" (pp. 2-3) and getting some early practice "while in Hawaii during the war, I had read his novel NAOMI" (p. 1). Then in 1951 an English translator gave Keene the three Japanese volumes of THE MAKIOKA SISTERS by Tanazaki Jun'ichiro (1886-1965).
   
   This book has an index, and you can look up Nobel Prize for Literature and find out that Kawabata Yasunari (1899-1972) won it in 1968, but it might be politically selective, because "he had served since 1948 as president of the Japanese PEN Club," (p. 23). A news report that Tanazaki Jun'ichiro had won the Prize in 1964 "was a mistake, and by the time Japan's turn at last came up in this geographically controlled competition, Tanizaki was dead." (p. 24). Keene would also like you to know, "What prevented Mishima from obtaining the prize?" (p. 25). How many Swedes could think Mishima was a young leftist (some secret committee would expect that to be a bad choice) instead of a right-wing nationalist who would end it all with seppuku on November 25, 1970? Keene was more aware of the political situation in Japan because "In June 1970, on the night the security treaty with the United States came up for renewal, I was in a taxi with Mishima" (p. 46). And the opening sentence of the last letter Mishima sent to Keene was "When you read these words I shall be dead." (p. 48).
   
   The final Japanese author to get a chapter in this book, Shiba Ryotaro (1923-1996) worked as a reporter. Keene had not yet met him in 1971 and should have been suspicious when an editor told him that he would like to publish a dialogue, and that when Shiba was "told that I was unfamiliar with his writings, had insisted that I was not to read them. This gracious concession made it impossible for me not to take part in the dialogue." (p. 86). Shiba turned it into a book in which he said they had been "comrades in arms" (p. 87) because they had both served in the same war. Shiba wrote travel books and historical fiction. Though not popular in the rest of the world, "His writings inspired a whole country, not with patriotic zeal, but with a quiet awareness of what being Japanese has meant through history." (p. 99).
   
   It is a bit surprising that the early parts of this book make World War II seem like a much bigger catastrophe for the Japanese than the index, which only has entries for "war, 40, 72, 87." (p. 113). Kawabata Yasunari served as an air-raid warden, enduring "the cold of the night and feel my own sadness melt into the sadness of Japan. I felt there was a beauty that would perish if I died. My life did not belong to me alone." (p. 41). Mishima Yukio had a cold the day he reported for his physical examination, but "when the inexperienced young doctor asked if he always had a fever and coughed so much, he nodded gravely. His cold was diagnosed as pleurisy, and he was sent home the same day, to his joy and relief." (p. 51). Sick, sick, sick! "Abe entered the Tokyo University Medical School in 1943, at the age of nineteen. This gave him temporary exemption from the draft, but in the following year his unsatisfactory scholastic performance endangered the exemption." (p. 72). "At first he helped his father with his medical practice, but in August 1945, just before the end of the war, a typhus epidemic swept Manchuria and the father caught the sickness and died. Abe remained in Mukden." (pp. 72-73).
   
   "In my case, as Shiba mentioned, it was because of the war that I had learned Japanese, and this would be at once my lifework and the factor that made it possible for Shiba and me to become friends. In his case (though he did not mention it at the time) the war had aroused a hatred for the nationalism that had been its cause. Our wartime experiences had been entirely different, but they had brought us to the same place." (p. 87).
   
   The book descriptions were better than the war; much more pleasant.

2 comments about The Kagero Diary: A Woman's Autobiographical Text from Tenth-Century Japan (Michigan Monograph Series in Japanese Studies, No. 19.).

1. This book (same as the Gossamer Years tr. Seidensticker) is a series of fairly short passages written by "Michinaga's Mother," describing her life in the last quarter of the 10th c., starting with her marriage to a Fujiwara who would become one of the most powerful lords in the country. She is particularly interested in recording the poems she wrote and those written to reply to them by her husband and others. She also gives a vivid picture of her moral struggle with the Buddhist rejection of human loves and the cultural pleasures she is so deeply involved in.

   I am just getting interested in Heian Japan after reading the Tale of Genji, and the Kagero Diary is a wonderful source of information and understanding. As a memoir it is much more powerful (IMHO) than Murasaki's own diary or Sei Shonagon's Pillow Book. You can see and feel the author coming to terms with who she is and the life she has lived as she narrates the events that were most important for her.

   The text of the translation is set on the right-hand pages and the notes on the facing page. The poems are all transcribed so that one can see the words in them, and Arntzen, the translator, comments on the puns, etc. The notes and introduction are in some places personal, describing a modern woman scholar's changing understanding of the author. They are also smart and scholarly. I am not sure whether this translation would be satisfactory all by itself, but with the notes one feels one is getting in touch with the original. Unfortunately, there are many irritating typos.




2. The Kagero Diary precedes the most famous of Japanese literary creations the Genji monogatari by a few decades. This is the second full translation of the Kagero Diary, the first was by Edward Seidensticker, and I believe this one to be the superior. Dr. Arntzen begins with a 50 page introduction that informs the reader of both the historical and the literary realam in which the Diary was created, and she gives a basic description of the poetry, religion, and politic of the time, so the reader can easily understand what is taking place. Instead of footnotes the author puts the footnotes parallel to the diary itself making for very easy reference. The Diary itself is a staright forward memoir of Michitsuna's mother telling of her marriage woes. A wonderful book.

No comments about Lost Childhood: My Life in a Japanese Prison Camp During World War II.

1 comments about The Films of Oshima Nagisa: Images of a Japanese Iconoclast.

1. Being the World Cinema buff that I am, I always ask my friends from other countries what their favorite film from their home countries is. Whenever I've asked a friend from Japan this question, they have unanimously responded by saying "Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence" by Oshima Nagisa. Here in the U.S., we are led to presume it would be Kurosawa Akira, but that isn't so. For some reason, Oshima's film about Japan's atrocities during World War II resonate more, if not with most Japanese, with the younger generation with whom I interact. Maureen Turim's book "The Films of Oshima Nagisa" proceeds to tell us why, reviewing beyond Oshima's major features to include his documentaries as well. Along the way, she presents the Eastern and Japanese specific references and influences in Oshima's work rather than assume that Oshima primarily looked to the West for his inspiration as is shown in the over-emphasis in Western reviews of the Brechtian influences and the parallels to Goddard. This book also provides a solid feminist critique of Oshima's films, again with respect to what Feminism means in Japan. This book has trully enhanced my appreciation of Oshima's films and I recommend it highly.

3 comments about Paul Horiuchi: East and West (Samuel and Althea Stroum Book).

1. A captivating account of Paul Horiuchi's life and art. This gifted and devoted talent was a shining star in the golden era of Northwest modern art, merging Oriental and Occidental components to create rich and unique forms. I highly recommend this book to anyone interested in the art of America's Pacific Northwest.



2. Book came on time as ordered; no problem. The even better news is that it confirmed that a painting I bought at an auction 20 years ago, really is a signed Horiuchi watercolor!



3. So little information is available about artist Paul Horiuchi that this book by Barbara Johns is a real treasure. I particularly enjoyed the biographical material and look forward to visiting the museum in LaConner, WA. so that I can see the Horiuchi collages displayed there.

5 comments about Contemporary Japanese Film.

1. Mark Schilling is a film reviewer for one of the Tokyo newspapers, so this book is made up of all the films released in the past 10 years, bundled up with a load of articles/interviews with the like of Shunji `Swallowtail Butterfly' Iwai and Juzo `Tampopo' Itami. He writes very well, but most interesting is the wide diversity of the films reviewed. It's far more comprehensive than Weisser's book, which would have you believe that Pinku Eiga were the only type of films being made in Japan in the 90's. Most of the films reviewed have probably had little release outside of Asia. This definitely the best book out there on the subject.



2. One of the better and hipper books on Japan is the Encyclopedia of Japanese Pop Culture, by Mark Schilling. Schilling is one of the few foreigners who can really distinguish the important icons of Japanese culture from the stuff that's of less interest. It was with great relief that I found his Contemporary Japanese Film, focusing on cinema from the 1990s. Not surprisingly, he makes reference to the golden age of Japanese cinema in the 1950s, including the magnificent talents of Kurosawa, Ozu, and Mizoguchi, in an effort to understand what has gone wrong in the nation's cinema since then: a downward spiral of bad talent and visionless film producers. Ever since, there has been little international attention paid to Japanese cinema except for the interesting work of '60s mavericks Nagisa Oshima and Seijun Suzuki (the "Sam Fuller of Japan").

   According to Schilling, there were some new beams of light in the Japanese cinema of the '90s. Leading the pack is filmmaker Takeshi "Beat" Kitano, who has already gotten serious attention in the States and Europe for his stylized gangster films, such as Sonatine (1993); and the hysterical films by the late (and very much missed) Juzo Itami, who made the culinary adventure Tampopo. So it is not surprising that the two most interesting interviews in the book are with these filmmakers. Takeshi must be the hardest-working man in the world: He makes at least two films a year plus eight television episodes a week. He tells a funny story about how on one talk show dealing with food and drink; he fell asleep on television due to the alcohol. The other guests just went on their merry way while commenting every so often on Takeshi's sleeping habits. He claims that there is no pressure doing that much television shows because nothing is planned; it is even relaxing. It is worth noting that, on the side, he has a career as a kind of Japanese David Letterman.

   As for Itami, who is known for his television acting as well as his films, his interview focuses on how contemporary Japanese culture is conveyed in different aspects of his film work. Itami has made fun of everything from family practice (The Funeral) to the Japanese Mafia, the Yakuza (as a result, he had his face slashed by a Yakuza member).

   The second half of the book includes nearly 400 Japanese film reviews by Schilling, published originally in the Japan Times. I would recommend this book not only to film fans, but also to readers who are interested in contemporary Japanese culture. Schilling, along with American journalist Donald Ritchie, has excellent insight into what makes Japan tick, and also understands the nature of kitsch in Japanese culture




3. The Japanese reporter for the prestigious Screen International, Mark Schilling gets to see all the new films in advance, and brings not just a reviewer's critical eye, but a linguist's critical ear = his comments on translation and delivery add a whole new dimension lacking from writers who can't speak Japanese. His comments, even where I don't initially agree with them, such as his Poppoya review, are always thought-provoking and worthy of consideration, and his introductory essays on the state of modern Japanese film are unequalled in the current market. Some of the background stories, such as the influence of the Middle Eastern carpet trade on the Japanese film business, are quite mind boggling, bu also bery interesting explanations for some of the strange behaviour of Japanese film producers. An excellent survey of Japanese film in the 1990s, from someone who was there when it all happened.



4. I found this book to be useful in giving a broad range of information on contemporary Japanese film makers. Although It was not always clear why Schilling had chosen to feature certain directors and not others. I was able to link the directors together which was helpful but I wished there had been more detailed film reviews



5. "Contemporary Japanese Film" is a mis-named book. Judging from the title and size, I was expecting something along the lines of a continuation of Donald Richie's seminal "100 years of Japanese film," something bringing equal insight into contemporary Japanese film as Richie brought into the historical. Instead, "Contemporary Japanese Film" is nothing more than a collection of previously published and unconnected essays, interviews and film reviews by Japan-based film critic Mark Shilling. Obviously, someone saw the potential to make money off of existing material, without further work. There are no original articles.
   
   Shilling is a fine film critic and clearly knowledgeable about the modern Japanese film industry. However, either he or his editors do not know how to assemble this knowledge into a useful book. Several of the essays overlap, with the same information in each. For instance, Shilling is clearly a fan of Iwai Shunji's film "Swallowtail," as it is introduced, described and critiqued in several essays, without any acknowledgement that it was introduced only a few pages before in a different essay. Also, several concepts, such as block-booking movies and advanced ticket sales to drive up box office, are talked about but never adequately explained for non-familiar readers.
   
   In addition, although it looks like a thick and potent read, more than half of the book, 250 pages out of a 388 page book, is film reviews, culled from Shilling's column in the English-language Japan times. The majority of these films are not available to Western audiences.
   
   All of this may sound terrible, but the content that is here is of good quality, and once one gets over the initial disappointment of the mis-labeled title, there are a few kernels of insight to pull out of the pages. Probably the most interesting section is the directors interviews, showcasing such luminaries as Kurosawa Akira, Takahata Isao, Itami Juzo, Suo Masayuki (Shall we dance?) and Kitano Takeshi. There are some glaring oversights, such as no Suzuki Seijun, Miike Takashi or Miyazaki Hayao, but I suppose he can't have covered everyone in his newspaper work.
   
   As a book about contemporary Japanese film, it is a failure. As a collection of non-related essays, interviews and film reviews from someone with knowledge and history of modern Japanese film, it is successful.

5 comments about Tale of Genji (Tuttle Classics of Japanese Literature).

1. A longtime admirer of Murasaki Shikibu's exceptional work, I fell in love with Genji first through Arthur Waley's translation, which made this admittedly exotic novel accessible to non-Japanese readers. Curious to know more about the Heian period and culture, I acquired Ivan Morris's tremendously helpful and readable "The World of the Shining Prince." Then I discovered Edward Seidensticker's superb rendering of "The Tale of Genji," and have read and re-read that version with deepening understanding and enjoyment. Seidensticker, while presumably adhering closer to the language of the original (which even modern Japanese find difficult to read), gave us a translation which is perfumed by the sensuous beauty of what must have been a truly refined and special time and place (albeit a very limited one).

   Now comes Royall Tyler's superb effort, which comes with myriad and very helpful details: each chapter starts with an explanation of the chapter title, how the section relates to previous chapters and the cast of characters. There are also generous appendices including a chronology of events in the novel and a glossary. Line drawings throughout the two volumes (also present in Seidensticker) provide helpful visual clues as to dress and architecture. Tyler's effort seems even closer to the original language, and thereby lies the problem.

   This version unnecessarily burdens the reader with ever-changing nomenclature. Since in the original characters are known by their rank-names, and Tyler (mostly) adheres to this usage, the reader is challenged to keep up with the changes. Put the book down for a day or two and you will feel quite lost for several minutes when you restart. As an aide, the translator does provide footnotes to clue you in, but this just makes things more awkward and tedious. For example, at the start of Chapter 43, "Red Plum Blossom" in Tyler's version: "There was in those days a gentleman known as the Inspector Grand Counselor, the late Chancellor's second son, hence the younger brother of the Intendant of the Watch (1)" This same sentence in Seidensticker reads: "Kobai, the oldest surviving son of the late To no Chujo, was now Lord Inspector." How much more to the point!

   To conclude, while Tyler's translation is awesome in its scholarship and abundant detail (including sources of the poetry), it is also much less readable. To my mind, the scholarship gets in the way of the story telling. I found myself longing for my Seidensticker at many turns as I went dutifully through the Tyler. Aside from providing a more continuous flow to the story, I also found that Seidensticker's translation of the many poems in the tale more comprehensible and lyrical.

   If you are new to this literary masterpiece, you will find the Waley translation the most accessible. If you get hooked on the work, you will probably want the other two. If you must have only one version, however, go with Seidensticker.




2. I was hesitant to start reading "The Tale of Genji" because it seemed so long and ponderous and serious. It seemed like the kind of novel you read because you should, not because it's fun. That wasn't the case at all! The book is a little obscure, a little hard to read, but it keeps me up reading it at night. The world it evokes is distant, exotic, and poetic. I haven't read the other translations, but I will say that for me it wasn't hard to keep track of who was who, despite the lack of personal names, and I'm glad that this translation stuck close to the original in that respect.



3. The Tale of Genji, or Genji monogatari, was written in the tenth century by Shikibu Murasaki. In it, there is a deep look at the culture and way of life of the highest classes in Heian-era Japan.

   The tale itself is about the 'shining prince'; Genji. Son of the emperor and one of his lowest consorts, Genji is fated to be one of the most important men of the age, but never able to truly ascend to royalty. This story, all thousand plus pages of it, details his life full of music, poetry, and efforts to win the hand of various ladies.

   While starting out very episodic, Genji soon turns into a more refined tale, when all the threads of story come together to create surprising relations and events that will delight the imagination in their color and depth. By the end of the book, you will have lived through so much of the characters lives that each person comes into their own, and you cannot help but hope that all will end well.

   I will say, however, that this book is somewhat difficult to get into for the uninitiated. There's much in the way of allusion to religion of the day (be it Shinto or Buddhism), and of customs that are barely mentioned due to being so commonplace at the time. As such, I would suggest something to introduce people to the Heian culture.

   My first and best suggestion would be The Tale of Murasaki, written by Liza Dalby. It's a diary of the author of Genji, Shikibu Murasaki, pieced together from poems and the real diary, and filled in with further guesses as to her life. Compared to Genji, it is very approachable, and makes reading this story even easier.

   I cannot recommend Genji enough, being quite possibly the first novel in the world, and certainly one of the best. For anyone with an interest in Japanese history, well-written romance, or just the best of the written word, Genji is sure to delight.




4. This edition is actually the first volume of the series that makes up the complete Tale of Genji. After much anticipation, fuelled by books such as The Tale of Murasaki, I was ready to take on this giant of world literature. It was quite disappointing, but perhaps much of that was due to my strong personal dislike of the title character, Genji. Presented as a `shining prince', and the epitome of manhood, I found him to be a vain and childish character who was annoying in the extreme. So when the story is based on his adventures and accomplishments, it is bound to disappoint.

   However, something strange happened with this book - by the end, I had decided to seek out the further volumes so as to complete the story. So Genji, annoying or otherwise, grows on the reader, and you feel compelled to find out what happened next. And this is the sign of a good book. And if you have any interest in Japanese literature, or Heian culture, this book is a must-read, as so much relates to it.

   This is one of the `classic' translations, and is quite easy to understand. I would recommend having `A Reader's Guide to The Tale of Genji' by William Puette on hand while reading if you want to fully appreciate all that is going on.




5. I had to read this book for class. It wasn't that good. Conversations get confusing because its not clear who is saying what. It might be a small book but its tedious reading. I'm usually a fast reader but it took me a couple of days just to get through 3 chapters. I asked around at class and found that I was not the only one who had this problem. Its less painful if you just get a summary or if you just get someone to tell you what happens.

2 comments about Tea Life, Tea Mind.

1. A Japanese tea master discusses his art, and throws in a few anecdotes of his own life and stories about famous tea masters from the past. Overall, this is a wonderful introduction to the spirit behind the tea ceremony, which as just as important as the particulars of the process itself. The author's warmth and sincere goodwill come through nicely in this slim, peaceful volume.



2. Despite the fact that this book is out of print. I have been able to obtain many copies...check independent book stores! This is one of the best books I have ever read. It helped me understand Japanese culture and the Japanese way of living.

No comments about Voices From This Long Brown Land: Oral Recollections of Owens Valley Lives and Manzanar Pasts (Palgrave Studies in Oral History).