Larry's Pretty Good LiveJournal

"Though tempests round us gather / I’ll meet the raging of the skies / But not an angry father"

2013-06-16T14:29:59Z

Our arthouse cinema's Studio Ghibli fest means I finally got to see Only Yesterday (original title Omohide poroporo, "memories trickling"). This is one of the two Ghibli movies that haven't been distributed in the US even though Disney has the rights -- probably because of the discussions of menstruation sparked by an elementary school health class.

Briefly: Taeko is a 27-year-old single Tokyoite in 1982 who is take a two-week vacation working on a relative's farm (her brother-in-law's sister's), which brings up memories of fifth grade and a frustrated summer trip to the countyside. As the movie progresses, the memories start to literally intrude on her present life, with her younger self and classmates appearing around her as part of flashback transitions. (Once, girl!Taeko peeks around a adult!Taeko's train berth, sees the audience, gasps, and hides again.) Eventually the reason for why that age in particular becomes clear, as her adult self is, like her early adolescent self, also on the threshold of a life change that she's not at first conscious of.

Ghibli is known for its lush landscapes, but this? -- this has the best backgrounds I've seen in a Ghibli movie. A gorgeous and fluidly animated work of cinema. Part of this is driven by the director's soapboxing on the importance of Japanese agriculture, organic farming, and the purity of rural life -- which gets, um, a little heavy-handed. That part is, actually, the movie's main flaw. (Significantly, the entire adult!Taeko story was added by the director/scriptwriter -- the original manga was just a memoir of childhood.)

Otherwise, it is a very good movie. Adult!Taeko is believably wise in some ways and still fumbling in others, girl!Taeko is indeed in early adolescence, and Toshio is adorkable and almost deserves her. And the climax, especially the moment when girl!Taeko shyly shakes her older self's arm, physically interacting for the first time, is moving. As is the final image of girl!Taeko looking after adult!Taeko, having been left behind because the memories are no longer needed.

It deserves to be better known.

---L.

Kokinshu Book VIII: Partings (365-405)

2013-06-14T14:23:33Z

Book VIII is poems of partings of various sorts. This was a standard genre in Chinese tradition: close male friends bidding each other farewell, especially as one left to take a new post (Chinese officials were rotated regularly, to reduce the chance they'd build local alliances), and the results are frequently lachrymose.

The Kokinshu includes these sorts of poems from a range of public and private occasions, but also mixes in farewells by lovers -- never a common genre in China -- and even chance encounters. The result is a diversity of tone (or least, more diversity than the previous book -- I know, not hard) and a distinct and unexpected progression.

365. Ariwara no Yukihira Topic unknown.
tachiwakare inaba no yama no mine ni ôru matsu to shi kikaba ima kaerikomu	Though I now depart, should I indeed hear you pine, waiting like pines that grow on Inaba's mountain peaks, I shall return home at once.
Scholars have long assumed Yukihira wrote this in 855 when he was appointed governor of Inaba Province (the eastern half of modern Tottori Prefecture), making this traditional in subject, but rather than imitating the tone of Chinese models, he went for playful wit by using two pivot-words: the old standard matsu meaning "pine tree" / "to wait" (worked in more naturally here than, say, in #162) and inaba as the province / an auxiliary verb meaning "if (I) go." Given the tradition (and since Yukihira was known in his day for his poetry in Chinese, he'd be quite familiar with it), this was more likely a farewell to a friend than a flirtation with a court lady, but it's possible to read it either way. That the poetic language of male friendship can be nearly identical to that of lovers will become clearer as this book goes on. The second pivot is most readily understood as an implicit comparison, but as pine trees don't actually pine for anyone, I triple-translated the word to bring out the pun. (Note, btw, the peak echoes the last poem of the previous book -- more evidence the editors intended us to read the collection as a whole.)
366. Author unknown (Topic unknown.)
sugaru naku aki no hagihara asa tachite tabiyuku hito o itsu to ka matamu	How long must I wait for the one who this morning starts his journey through autumn fields of bush-clover where the digger-wasps drone?
In contrast, this is most easily read as a parting of lovers. The sugaru is an old name for any of several wasps (used poetically in the Man'yoshu as a comparison for a woman's waist), often specifically identified as a digger wasp. Keeping the smooth sweep of a direct lyrical statement (also a Man'yoshu styling) meant almost exactly reversing the order of images.
367. (Author unknown) (Topic unknown.)
kagiri naki kumoi no yoso ni wakaru to mo hito o kokoro ni okurasamu ya wa	Even parted from him somewhere beyond the high clouds without limit, is it ever possible for my heart to desert him?
Again, this is most easily read as a parting by lovers. "Beyond" is interpretive but makes idiomatic sense. It's also possible to read hito, "person," as a sort of indirect and so polite way of referring to the listener, making this an address to "you" remaining behind (and a response to the previous) instead of asking about a departed "him." The rhetorical question expects, as usual, a negative answer.
368. [Mother of Ono no Chifuru] Written by his mother when Ono no Chifuru left to become Vice-Governor of Michinoku.
tarachine no oya no mamori to aisouru kokoro bakari wa seki na todome so	You barrier gates, at least don't stop this heart of a doting parent that accompanies her child as protection from dangers.
Chifuru and his mother are otherwise unknown. Some medieval traditions held that Chifuru was the son of Ono no Michikaze, the founder of the distinctly Japanese styles of calligraphy, but since Michikaze was born in 894 and the last datable poem in the Kokinshu is from 915, this is cough extremely unlikely. Regardless, this is her only credited poem in the Kokinshu. ¶ Another one not at all in the traditional Chinese manner, as it's not written by a male friend, though at least it's for a departing official. Michinoku was the northernmost province of the main island of Honshu, comprising modern Fukushima, Miyagi, Iwate, and Aomori prefectures -- a decidedly frontier post in a region only recently conquered by the southern capital, with control still uncertain. Officials and aristocrats needed travel permits to pass the barrier gates or check-points between administrative regions -- we'll see one in action later this book. Tarachine no is a stock epithet for a parent of uncertain meaning: although it is now sometimes written with kanji meaning "breasts overflowing with milk," it originally was used of both sexes and probably had a sense closer to "overflowing with affection." Omitted-but-understood: "her child," though it's strongly implied by a form of "accompany" that indicates an action done together. OTOH, "from dangers" is purely interpretive. Lost in translation: the doting parent comes right at the start of the poem.
369. Ki no Toshisada Written the night of a farewell party at the house of Prince Sadatoki when Fujiwara no Kiyofu was leaving to become Vice-Governor of Ômi.
kyô wakare asu wa au mi to omoedomo yo ya fukenuramu sode no tsuyukeki	Today we part and, though I think that tomorrow we'll meet in Ômi, it must be that night has grown late -- my sleeves are getting dew-soaked.
This begins a group of traditional partings between male friends, most composed for public occasions. That said, neither this occasion nor appointment are otherwise recorded, though it must have been before Toshisada's death in 881. Pivot-word obscured by historical sound changes: au mi is both "one(s) who meet" / Ômi Province (modern Shiga Prefecture, pronounced Aumi at the time). The soaking is clearly and conventionally meant to be from tears.
370. (Ki no Toshisada) Written and sent to someone had gone to Koshi.
kaeruyama ari to wa kikedo harugasumi tachiwakarenaba koishikarebeshi	Even though I hear there's a Mt. Returning there, if you've departed amid the rising spring mist, I must indeed long for you.
Koshi is the old name for what's now called the Hokuriku region on the north coast of the main island, comprising several provinces that roughly correspond to modern Fukui, Ishikawa, Toyama, and Niigata prefectures. Returning Mountain is a literal meaning of Kaeruyama in Fukui -- it will ahem return in other poems because of its name. Pivot-word: tachi- is "rise" for the mist and the "de-" of "depart" (much as in #103, though here reading double is required to make sense of things). The implication seems to be that mists would somehow delay the friend's return, though it's also possible to read an implied comparison: "If you've risen like the spring mist and departed ... "
371. Ki no Tsurayuki Written at someone's farewell banquet.
oshimu kara koishiki mono o shirakumo no tachinamu nochi wa nani kokochi semu	As I make my regrets, already I long for you! After you've ridden off into the white clouds risen, what emotion will I feel?
Again, tachi- is "rise" for the clouds and "start" for the person. It's possible here to read a coherent and competent poem by understanding only one of those senses, given Tsurayuki, the double meaning is almost certainly intended. Notice also his telescoping of layers of time. To reproduce at least a little of the soundplay, this rendering is more free than usual.
372. Ariwara no Shigeharu Written for a friend traveling into the country.
wakarete wa hodo o hedatsu to omoeba ya katsu minagara ni kanete koishiki	Is it that at parting I feel the separation of distance, so that even while I still see you I already long for you?
In these headnotes, the verb rendered as "travel"or "go" is specifically a motion away from the capital, with a strong connotation of going "down" from it, but this is the first poem to more directly expose the implied courtly worldview of the one imperial city and everything else. The poem has much the same import as the previous, embodied with less grace than Tsurayuki managed, though there is some nice alteration going.
373. Ikago no Atsuyuki Written and sent to someone who'd gone to the eastern provinces.
omoedomo mi o shi wakeneba mi ni mienu kokoro o kimi ni taguete zo yaru	Although I long to, I cannot split my body -- so I shall send you as a companion a heart that can't be seen with the eye.
Atsuyuki is otherwise unknown aside from this one poem in the Kokinshu. ¶ The recipient's destination, azuma, was a general name for eastern Honshu, everything from what's now the Tokyo metro area on north. What is longed for is unstated -- the traditional interpretation is "to go with you," but this reading feels more natural. The original plays on the homophone mi meaning both "body/self" and "eye" -- similar to the soundplay of "I" / "eye," though my rendering doesn't really bring this it out. Not a bad poem, but the conceit was more charming when a mother sent her heart in #368.
374. Naniwa no Yorozuo Written when parting with someone at Ôsaka.
ôsaka no seki shi masashiki mono naraba akazu wakaruru kimi o todomeyo	If, Meeting Hill Gate, you are a true barrier, detain my lord -- the one we're not tired of yet who separates from us.
Yorozuo is also otherwise unknown aside from this one poem in the Kokinshu. ¶ Ôsaka is not the modern city but rather the first checkpoint on the road east from the capital, in the hills south of modern Ôtsu City. Because a travel permit was required to pass through, it was a common place for final farewells -- one beloved of poets because you part at a place that sounded like it means "meeting hill." The nameplay is irrelevant here, but I translate it to be consistent with later poems, such as #390. Omitted-but-understood word: "barrier." Note, btw, that here kimi cannot be read as a formal "you" as the gate itself is directly addressed with an abrupt command.
375. Author unknown Topic unknown.
karakoromo tatsu hi wa kikaji asatsuyu no okite shi yukeba kenubeki mono o kono uta wa, aru hito, tsukasa o tamawarite atarashiki me ni tsukite, toshi ete sumikeru hito o sutete, tada asunamu tatsu to bakari ierikeru toki ni, to mo kau mo iwade yomite tsukawashikeru	I'll not hear of it, the day you start, cutting us like a Chinese robe -- for, left behind like morning dew, I must vanish when you go. A certain man, having been named to an official post, took a new wife and abandoned the one he'd lived with for years. When he said to her merely, "I leave tomorrow," she said nothing but wrote and sent him this poem.
Now for a short break from male friendships for another three partings by lovers -- all written in contemporary, Chinese-influenced styles, in marked contrast to the older, plain manner of #366–368. That the editors give the story as a footnote rather than headnote suggests they did not entirely trust it, even without hedging it with "some people say." Two contrasting pivot-words here, both used to attach decorative phrases that essentially act as adverbial stock epithets: tatsu is "cut" for the Chinese robe and "start (out)," and oku is "settle" for the dew and "leave (behind)." All this plus that "dew" and "vanish" are imagisticly related words makes this a technically elaborate piece.
376. Minamoto no Utsuku Written and sent to Fujiwara no Kimitoshi when travelling to Hitachi.
asa na ke ni mibeki kimi to shi tanomaneba omoitachinuru kusamakura nari	Since I can't rely on you, a Kimitoshi not constantly seen, my decision is to sleep on grass pillows in Hitachi
Utsuku's birth and death dates are unknown, but she was a daughter of Minamoto no Kuwashi and seems to have been active in the years around 900. (Kimitoshi, a high-level official active in the decades around 900, was probably born around 870.) She has 3 poems in the Kokinshu. ¶ Textual note: my base text has the first line asa na ge ni, which is pretty much nonsense, and most editors remove two dots to emend this to asa na ke ni, "(every) morning and day" = "constantly." In the headnote, it's ambiguous who's going to Hitachi (in modern Ibaraki Prefecture), but in the poem it's clearly the speaker. A "grass pillow" is metonymy for traveling, as travelers conventionally slept on them; "to sleep on" is a gloss-in-the-text added for clarity. The recipient's name is worked into line 2 and the destination into line 4, though this latter is obscured by modern orthography. This working in is done in much the way of the acrostics of Book X, but given their relevance and that it's possible, with a little stretching, to read them as pivot words, I've double-translated them as such. Utsuku's manner is in the tradition of the Lonely Lady of Chinese models, though her traveling is not.
377. Author unnamed When Ki no Munesada went to the eastern provinces, he spent the night at someone's house, and as he was making his farewells before dawn had broken, a woman wrote and sent this out.
e zo shiranu ima kokoromiyo inochi araba ware ya wasururu hito ya towanu to	We don't know for sure -- now let's put it to the test: As long as we live, will it be I who forgets? will that person not visit?
Whom Munesada spent the night with (a male friend? the poet? another woman?) and the poet's relationship with him (wife? lover? would-be lover?) are all ambiguous. Commentaries have no consensus, though some note that because of directional prohibitions, it was not uncommon to start a journey by staying overnight at a nearby house that's in a different direction from one's distination. While it's clear the poet is being snarky, it'd be nice to know just how snarky (viciously? archly? exaggeratedly for effect?) and how justified she is, as that'd help fill in some of the lacunae in this "reasoning style" poem, such as whose life is being staked. Best guesses, and all that.
378. Fujiwara no Fukayabu Written when left behind by a beloved friend traveling to the eastern provinces.
kumoi ni mo kayou kokoro no okureneba wakaru to hito ni muyu bakari nari	Even if you are among the far-distant clouds, this traveling heart is not left behind -- and so we only seem separated.
Back to male friends, this time in less public modes -- the "beloved friend" part indicating that this is a more private affair than the previous official sendings off. That said, compare #367. Omitted-but-understood words: "if you are." The verb for "traveling" in the poem implies going back and forth (the modern sense is "commuting"), giving an implied image of being used as a messenger, which doesn't quite fit the context.
379. Yoshimine no Hideoka Written when a friend traveled to the eastern provinces.
shirakumo no konata kanata ni tachiwakare kokoro o nusa to kudaku tabi ka na	Your departure now for hither and thither among the white clouds is a journey that, ah!, shreds my heart into prayer strips.
Hideoka (parentage and dates are unknown, though presumably he's somehow related to Henjô and Sosei) appears in court records during the last two decades of the 800s as a middling courtier, and has this one poem in the Kokinshu. ¶ For nusa prayer strips, see #298. Here's another example of what's in effect an adverbial stock epithet on a pivot-word: shirakumo no, "of/among the white clouds," modifying tachi-, the "de-" of "depart" but "rise" for the clouds. Omitted-but-understood verb: "is." The conceit is a little odd, but the poem's sound is not bad and I'm kinda charmed by it. (I should explicitly explain, btw, that I call aristocrats of the Fourth or Fifth rank "middling courtiers." In the terms of the time, they were the lowest of the high court officials -- with access to the court and so actual courtiers, but not movers-and-shakers; most provincial governorships were a Fourth-rank office. Third rank and up, being ministers, regents, and the like, I call "high-level officials," while Sixth through Eighth ranks are "lower-level bureaucrats," not that there's many of the latter in the Kokinshu.)
380. Ki no Tsurayuki Written and sent to someone traveling to Michinoku.
shirakumo no yae ni kasanaru ochi nite mo omoamu hito ni kokoro hedatsu na	Even when you are in a distance where white clouds pile up eight-layered, do not shut out the heart of one who will long for you.
Another use of eight as a generically large number -- rather elegantly here, though I cannot but feel that this was written with more grace than sincerity. Still, the assumption of, rather than the insistence on, a traveling heart is a nice touch. Omitted-but-understood verb: "are."
381. (Ki no Tsurayuki) Written when parting from someone.
wakare chô koto wa iro ni mo aranaku ni kokoro ni shimite wabishikaruramu	This thing called "parting" doesn't even have color, so how can it be it penetrates the heart and dyes it sorrowful.
It's been a while since we've seen a "reasoning style" supposed-paradox this polished. "Penetrate" and "dye" double-translate shimu to bring out the point of the color.
382. Ôshikôchi no Mitsune Written when a beloved friend came back to the capital after several years in Koshi, but returned again.
kaeruyama nani zo wa arite aru kai wa kite mo tomaranu na ni koso arikere	Returning Mountain, what on earth are you good for? All your name means is that even if they do come, they will not remain here.
The promised return of Returning Mountain. Colloquial translation reflects idiomatic phrasing.
383. (Ôshikôchi no Mitsune) Written and sent to someone who traveled to Koshi.
yoso ni nomi koi ya wataramu shirayama no yuki mirubeku mo aranu waga mi wa	I shall continue, it seems, longing for you only from afar -- I who cannot even go see the snows of White Mountain.
White Mountain in Koshi, here called Shirayama, is modern Hakusan (same meaning only in Chinese) on the border of Gifu, Fukui, and Ishikawa Prefectures. It also reappears in later poems (and Mitsune gets to see it in #414). Possible pivot-word: yuki can be "going" and "snow," but you get an understandable if less idiomatic statement if you just read "snow" (and many texts write it with the kanji for snow). Possibly irrelevant detail: the original second line (the first two of the translation) is the same as the last line of #180 (equivalent to l.4 of the translation).
384. Ki no Tsurayuki Written when parting with someone near Mt. Otowa.
otowayama kodakaku nakite hototogisu kimi ga wakare o oshimuberanari	Crying so loudly up high in a treetop on Mt. Otowa -- it must be that this cuckoo cannot bear parting from you.
A return of summer's cuckoo, and of the naku/"sing"/"cry" wordplay. For Otowa, see #142. Other wordplays: Otowa's name includes oto, the "sound" of the bird, and -dakaku is both "loudly" crying and "high up" in the tree. That the bird "also" regrets the parting is to be understood. The sentiment may seem a little thin, but the sound is lovely and elegant.
385. Fujiwara no Kanemochi Written at a drinking party held by high court officials for Fujiwara no Nochikage, who was leaving at the end of the Ninth Month to become inspector of Chinese goods.
morotomo ni nakite todomeyo kirigirisu aki no wakare wa oshiku ya wa aranu	Stay here, you cricket, and cry together with us -- for isn't it true this autumn's departure is something to be regretted?
Fujiwara no Kanemochi. His birth date is unknown, but given his younger brother Kanesuke (see #391) was born in 877 and his own career as a middling courtier starting in 897, it was probably around 870. He died in 923 and has two poems in the Kokinshu. (Incidentally, he also provided a poem for Fujiwara no Sadakuni's 40th birthday that was not included in #357ff.) ¶ Kanemochi, Nochikage (author of #108), and the father of Motonori (author of the next poem) all received their first official appointments, as imperial archivists, shortly after Daigo's enthronement in 897. The inspector of imports from the mainland was a Kyushu duty station; the appointment is not otherwise recorded but was probably a few years after 900. For the kirigirisu, see #196 -- and again we get the naku/"sing"/"cry" pun, providing our link to the previous poem. Grammatical ambiguity with a significance pointed up by the headnote: the departure could be "in autumn" or "of autumn," the latter (at the end of the Ninth Month) being what the cricket traditionally cries for.
386. Taira no Motonori (from the same party)
akigiri no tomo ni tachi'idete wakarenaba harenu omoi ni koi ya wataramu	If you're to rise up along with the autumn mist and depart from us, I should keep loving you with longings that (too) never clear.
Motonori's birthdate is not recorded, but given a stint in the imperial guards starting in 897 and the career of his father, Taira no Nakaki (see #1048), it was probably around 880. After a promising career start, he disappears from the records after 908 and is presumed to have died around then. This is his only poem in the Kokinshu. ¶ Pivot-word: tachi- is again the mist's "rise" and the "de-" of Nochikage's departure -- a double-meaning carried through the poem by a verb for "clearing" used of both weather and emotions. Omitted-but-understood, added to bring out this last: "too." The last line (my l.4) is again the same as #180; I suspect it reappears in the love poems as well.
387. Shirome Written while seeing off Minamoto no Sane at Yamazaki when he was traveling to Tsukushi to bathe in the hot springs.
inochi dani kokoro ni kanau mono naraba nani ka wakare no kanashikaramashi	If only our lives somehow corresponded to our hearts' desires, would separation still be something so agonizing?
Shirome (also called Shiro in Tales of Yamato) was a ukareme or female entertainer active in the reign of Emperor Uda, but no other personal details are recorded. This is her only attributed poem in the Kokinshu. ¶ For Sane, see the next poem. Tsukushi was a province corresponding to modern Fukuoka Prefecture but could also refer to Kyushu as a whole, and Yamazaki on the Yodo/Uji River (it's a waterway that changes name frequently), downstream from the capital at the border of modern Kyoto and Osaka prefectures, was the embarkation point for travelers to the western provinces. Ukaremes could be commoner or of aristocratic birth, but either way had more freedom of behavior than court ladies (the role, later called asobi, came to imply a sexual component to their entertaining), which may explain how she could travel so far with Sane. As for the poem itself, whose life, whether hers, his, or both, is ambiguous -- hers is the traditional reading, reasonably enough given the Lonely Lady trope, but the arduousness of the journey to Kyushu suggests the hot-springs are intended as a cure for serious health issues, making his also a topic of concern.
388. Minamoto no Sane Written when people, loath to part with him and return, traveled from Yamazaki to the sacred forest to see him off.
hitoyari no michi naranaku ni ookata wa ikiushi to iite iza kaerinamu	Since it's not a road I'm compelled to by others, I just have to say it's heartbreaking all over -- well then, let's all return home!
Sane had a career as middling courtier between 880 and his death in 900. This is his only poem in the Kokinshu, though he also appears in the headnotes of the previous and next poems. ¶ This is assumed to be from the same sending off as the previous, a little while later. The sacred forest (kannabi no mori) is sometimes conjectured to be a place now called Kanmaki somewhat downstream the Yodo of Yamakazi, in modern Osaka Prefecture. Where the quote begins is, as often, ambiguous, though it matters little to the general sense here (either he's calling everything "heartbreaking" or saying "everything's heartbreaking"). Non-literalisms: "just have to" is interpretive addition, while "all" is added on the assumption that the next poem is an immediate reply. A valiant attempt to lighten the mood, but I'm not so sure it works all that well as poetry.
389. Fujiwara no Kanemochi Written when Sane said, "Now return home from here."
shitawarete kinishi kokoro no mi ni shi areba kaeru sama ni wa michi mo shirarezu	Because I have gone out of my mind with yearning to come along with you, I can't even comprehend which road is the way for home.
Apparently a direct reply to the previous. While "heart" usually encompasses the most relevant senses of kokoro, the conceit here hinges on a sense involving awareness or intelligence. To convey this, my rendering is more free than usual -- more literally it's "Because my yearning-and-has-come spirit/heart is with you, I don't know even the road that's the return way." Either way, not the best of poems, though the echo of kinishi/mi ni shi is a neat touch.
390. Ki no Tsurayuki Written while seeing off Fujiwara no Koreoka, who was crossing Ôsaka [Gate] on his way to becoming vice-governor of Musashi.
katsu koete wakare mo yuku ka ôsaka wa hitodanome naru na ni koso arikere	He crosses over, parting from us as he goes! Meeting Hill Gate, I find that all your name does is make me rely on you.
For Ôsaka/Meeting Hill, see #374. Musashi Province corresponds to modern Tokyo City plus a portion of Saitama Prefecture, and Koreoka's appointment was in 898. Same last line as #382, rendered slightly differently because of context. The implication is, of course, that he relies on it in vain. Even more earlier poems, the language and manner makes this all but indistinguishable from a love poem. (Compare #387 in this regard.) The original, as expected from Tsurayuki, is quite polished.
391. Fujiwara no Kanesuke Written when seeing off Ôe no Chifuru when he traveled to Koshi.
kimi ga yuku koshi no shirayama shiranedomo yuki no manimani ato wa tazunemu	Although I don't know this White Mountain in Koshi where you are going, I'll go follow your tracks in the snow wherever they lead.
Kanesuke (877–933), younger brother of Kanemochi (see #385) and son-in-law of Sadakata (see #231), was a middling courtier, a patron of other poets (including Tsurayuki), and great-grandfather of Murasaki Shikibu (author of The Tale of Genji). He has 4 poems attributed to him in the Kokinshu, but see also #35n. ¶ Ôe no Chifuru (?–923) was a younger brother of Chisato (see #14) and tutor of Emperor Daigo as a young prince. Pivot-word: yuki again meaning "go and" / "snow," and here (in contrast to #383) both senses are needed to make sense of things. There's also a sort of "uncollapsed" pivot-word: the sound echo of shirayama, "White Mountain," and shiranedomo, "although not know." The sentiment may be hyperbole but it's in a way fitting for a sensitive aristocrat, and the sound-play is appealing.
392. Henjô Written when someone came to worship at Kazan and was returning home at dusk.
yûgure no magaki wa yama to mienanamu yoru wa koeji to yadori torubeku	If only, at dusk, our brushwood fence would appear to be a mountain -- "I cannot cross that at night." you might say, and take lodgings.
The start of a group of poems by monks saying farewell to lay visitors to temples. For Kazan, see ##119. Henjô may not have been the best poet of the era, but I find his poetic personality the most appealing of the Kokinshu.
393. Yûsen Written while parting with people who climbed the mountain to worship and were returning.
wakare o-ba yama no sakura ni makasetemu tomemu tomeji wa hana no manimani	Our separation -- I shall entrust it to the mountain cherries: whether you stay or not is at the whim of the flowers.
Yûsen (836–900) was a Fujiwara, personal lay name unknown, who took vows as a Buddhist priest. He has 2 poems in the Kokinshu. ¶ It's generally understood that the mountain is Hiei (see #87) and that Yûsen resided in a temple there. Omitted-but-understood verb: "is." It's unclear whether he's hoping the flowers will scatter and confuse the path (as in the next poem) or the visitors will be entranced enough to stay (as in the poem after). Not a satisfying translation -- but then, not a satisfying poem.
394. Henjô Written under the cherry blossoms when the Prince of Urin Temple had climbed the mountain for a memorial service and was returning.
yamakaze ni sakura fukimaki midarenamu hana no magiri ni tachitomarubeku	If only the cherries whirled about in disorder in the mountain wind -- you might then be detained in the confusion of flowers.
For the Urin Prince, Tsuneyasu, see #95. This is structurally very similar to #392. Compare also #349 and #403.
395. Yûsen (Written under the cherry blossoms when the Prince of Urin Temple had climbed the mountain for a memorial service and was returning.)
koto naraba kimi tomarubeku niowanamu kaesu wa hana no uki ni ya wa aranu	With things as they are, I wish you were so splendid that my lord stayed here. If we see him off, wouldn't that be shameful for your flowers?
Same occasion. In context of the previous, it's possible "things" points toward flowers being already in bloom, but it seems easier to read it as the prince's departure. The phrase hana no uki is also obscure, provoking much commentary -- "shameful for (your) flowers" is my best guess.
396. Kengei Written when the Ninna Emperor was a Crown Prince, when he was returning from viewing Furu Waterfall.
akazu shite wakaruru namida taki ni sou mizu masaru to ya shimo wa miruramu	My tears of parting -- for I'm not weary of you -- join the waterfall. Downstream, they might even see that the waters are rising.
Not much is known about this monk aside from that he's a grandson of Minamoto no Tôru (born 822, see #724), was active before Emperor Kôkô's 884 enthronement, and has 4 poems in the Kokinshu. ¶ Kôkô being the Ninna Emperor again (see #21); for Furu, see #248 (there's no indication this is from the same visit). The final couplet can also be read as a question, and that may even be the more natural way. Another where the language of friendship (or flattery) is indistinguishable from love poetry.
397. Ki no Tsurayuki One day he was invited [by the emperor] into Kannari-no-Tsubo to drink sake, and at the moment of departing into the heavy rain at dusk, taking up his sake-cup:
akihagi no hana o-ba ame ni nurasedomo kimi o-ba mashite oshi to koso omoe	Although the flowers of the autumn bush-clover are soaked by the rain, it is leaving you, my lord, that I regret even more.
For the Kannari-no-Tsubo, see #190; the unidentified emperor would, as usual, be Daigo. Omitted-but-understood verb: "leaving." Also understood: getting rained on ruins the flowers. See the next poem for a response.
398. Prince Kanemi Written in return.
oshimuramu hito no kokoro o shiranu ma ni aki no shigure to mi zo furinikeru	And while unaware that someone's heart might regret our parting now, my body has descended (like autumn rain) into age.
Not bad for improv, especially given he worked in the wit of a pivot-word, if a bog-standard one: </i>furu</i> is "fall" of the rain and "get old" of himself -- "descend" is the bog-standard translation. Omitted-but-understood again: "our parting now."
399. Ôshikôchi no Mitsune Written when parting with Prince Kanemi after first conversing with him.
wakaruredo ureshiku mo aru ka koyoi yori aiminu saki ni nani o koimashi	Even though we part, I am filled with happiness. Who in the world might I have loved before we met each other this evening?
Again, this sounds a lot like a love poem -- though of course, it's also easy to see mere overheated courtier flattery. The rhetorical question is strengthened by a counterfactual conjugation. Changes made for idiomatic-sounding English: "who in the world" is a bit stronger than the original's "who," even with the counterfactual, and technically it's "saw" rather than "met."
400. Author unknown Topic unknown.
akazu shite wakaruru sode no shiratama o kimi ga katami to tsutsumite zo yuku	As a memento I wrap the white gems on this sleeve that is departing, although not tired of you -- and only then do I go.
The same opening as #396, though this is obscured by English syntax. The gems are, of course, tears and the sleeve metonymy for the departer. This is most easily read as a man taking his leave of a woman, with the sleeve and tears being his, but other permutations are possible. More properly, "of you" modifies the memento, but moving it sounds more idiomatic.
401. (Author unknown) (Topic unknown.)
kagiri naku omou namida ni sohochinuru sode wa kawakaji awamu hi made ni	This sleeve that is soaked through by tears of love without limit will never dry out -- not until the day we meet.
Speaker could be either gender, but after the previous it's easiest to read a woman's response: "Maybe you can wrap up your tears ... " The original is interestingly balanced, with "soak" (sohochi-) and "dry out" (kawaka-) flanking the central "sleeve" (sode), and the whole bookended by "without limit" (first line) and "until we meet" (last line). (My version is more off-form than usual but language of the original is stripped down, to the point that padded phrasing really sticks out.)
402. (Author unknown) (Topic unknown.)
kakikurashi koto wa furanamu harusame ni nureginu kisete kimi o todomemu	With things looking dark, I wish it fell anyway. Then I would hang the soaked clothes on the spring rains and so detain my lord here.
Textual issue: in l.2 I've emended the goto of my base text to koto for the same reasons as in #82. The speaker is almost certainly a woman talking to or about her lover, given a higher-level courtier wouldn't be making visits to a lower one. Nurekinu kisete means literally "make (someone) wear soaked clothing" but idiomatically "put the blame on (someone)," often especially to frame them -- and both meanings are relevant here, which English can almost reproduce. Kakikurashi also has a double-meaning, to get dark from being overcast and to be depressed.
403. (Author unknown) (Topic unknown.)
shiite yuku hito o todomemu sakurabana izure o michi to mioyu made chire	He's going anyway, this person I would detain. O cherry blossoms, scatter until he's confused over which way is his road.
Again it's easiest to read this as a woman and her lover -- but then, compare #394.
404. Ki no Tsurayuki Written when parting with someone he'd talked with at a rocky spring in Shiga Pass.
musubu te no shizuku ni nigoru yama no i no akade mo hito ni wakarenuru ka na	As an offering from a mountain spring muddied by drops from cupped hands is unsatisfying, so too parting from, ah!, this person.
To transition into the travel poetry of the next book, the first of two poems of parting while traveling. In addition to being set outside the sophisticated capital, it's written in an old-fashioned manner with a description prefatory to the main subject hinging on the pivot-word aka, a water offering to the Buddha / akade, "not satisfied," which latter in turn explicitly applies to the clauses before and after it. (The offering sense is required, though many commentaries and translations ignore it, as otherwise the spring's genitive marker makes no sense.) Effect lost in translation: the original is bookended with musubu, here "scoop up (in the hand)" but can also mean "bind (together)," and wakarenuru, "have parted." The poem was immediately and enduringly popular, and frequently referenced by other Heian writers. It is often specifically interpreted as a love poem, with the "someone" a woman -- it wouldn't be the only time Tsurayuki flirted on this road.
405. Ki no Tomonori Written upon parting with someone he'd flirted with whose carriage he'd met on the road.
shita no obi no michi wa katagata wakaru to mo yukimegurite mo awamu to zo omou	Even though the ends of your undersash head off in different ways, they still wrap around -- so too, I believe, we shall meet again.
In the headnote, "flirt" is not an exact translation: the verb indicates talking with someone in a courting or at least making-a-pass sort of way. An undersash is a cord tied at the waist of inner layers of clothing, a word with strong erotic connotations. Omitted-but-understood: "the ends of" and "again." The image of being bound together (as by fate) applies here.

And so the book of partings ends with informal words after momentary meetings -- a far cry from the formal banquets of the start. Next up: the logical consequence of farewells -- traveling. Expect it in six weeks or so.

(Index for this series)

---L.

Wednesdays, we meme of reading

2013-06-12T14:14:36Z

What I've recently finished since my last post:

Itsuka Tenma no Kuro Usagi ("the someday demon's black rabbit") volume 1 by Kagami Takaya, a sorta-kinda vampire novel -- I guess? I went in with low expectations, but was pulled through by strong writing and a protagonist I actually cared about, despite some troperiffic character attributes. Maybe it was how the amnesiac romance was handled? I'm not continuing on, though, as the set-up at the end suggests a more boilerplate high-school fantasy series (and more stupid bickering) -- and indeed, 20 pages of the sequel were enough to pot-shot it into the DNF bin. Ah, well.

Ichiban Ushiro no Daimaô ("great demon king in the very back," I think?) volumes 1-2 by Shotarô Mizuki -- kinda like Harry Potter crossed with Angel Densetsu, if that has any meaning for you. When Our Protagonist Akuto Sai, who is strong, kindhearted, and somewhat dense, is admitted to the national magic academy, the ~~sorting hat~~ aptitude test claims future profession he is best suited to is demon king -- and the last demon king, a century ago, lead the country into civil war. Cue hijinx as Akuto tries to prove he's not this generation's Big Bad while everyone else sets out to either preemptively take down this Threat To Society or use him for their own purposes. Cue also lots of clothing damage and rounds of girls coming out of invisibility spells without spare clothes at hand. Also, aspects of the magic deal with consent issues that, as yet, it is not clear the author is aware of (and are indeed disturbing). These problems aside, it's a less stupid waste of time than many other series.

Tiassa by Steven Brust. I'm not sure how I feel about Paarfi narrating even a portion of a Vlad story, even if this finally gives us an extended description of Vlad's appearance. I'm also not sure this volume would work as a series entry -- various portions are direct sequels to four other books, while another is a direct prequel to a fifth, plus there's several continuities from the Khaavren Romances. But we do finally learn a bit about What Is Up with Devera and the main timeline gets moved forward a few more years with signs that Vlad, at least, is moving on (though Godslayer still hasn't woken up). Not the best Vlad book, but not Athyra and a fun read.

Poems of Places volume 30, covering the Americas exclusive of the United States. And in conclusion: Conquistadors = bad bad bad (though Columbus was heroic), North American military adventures in Latin America = ambivalently good, First Nations in Canada = completely invisible (even if they weren't they'd be nothing compared to the plight of the Acadians). Ooo-kay then. (For those keeping score, I've read 13 of 31 volumes.)

Acquainted with the Night: Insomnia Poems ed. Lisa Russ Spaar, an almost attractive little book with a decent range of selections, including translations from all around the northern hemisphere. "Almost" because the designer inexplicably gave body text over an inch of right margin, so that far more lines of ordinary iambic pentameter are wrapped than is needful. Also, I should not have been surprised that Philip Larkin's "Aubade" is one of the best poems. Good for late nights, tho'.

Also, did finish Birrell's Popular Songs and Ballads of Han China, yay. Interesting, especially in the commentary.

What I'm reading now:

The House Without a Key by Earl Derr Biggers, the first Charlie Chan novel. This is surprisingly well-written for a 1920s mystery, and indeed takes so long to get to the murder it initially reads as a decent mainstream novel, one that has things to say about Eastern attitudes towards the West that I am sympathetic toward. Chan, though -- oh dear. The author clearly signs the character as an anti-racist statement and mostly follows through on this intention, but every time Chan speaks, I cringe: he fractures English in ways that do not match the patterns of Chinese people I know speaking English as a second language. (It's not even consistent, either -- Biggers has him sometimes using an article, but when it is inappropriate.) The biggest surprise, though, is to learn Chan is a detective in the Honolulu police department: this simply never comes up in the pop-culture transmission of his character. The depiction of the Hawaiian blend of cultures is also of interest.

Song 24 (having finished 20-23) of Poly-Olbion -- I am disappointed in how little fenny goodness there is in the Norfolk section, though the digression into the technicalities of hawking after waterfowl was worth the price of an over-long hymn to Neptune as sung by nereids. Also, the long descriptions of every single battle in civil war between William I and Henry VII was very long, and the description of coursing greyhounds after hares was all too short. I am amused, however, by Drayton's audacity in having a prosy bore of a hill (some rivers even beg him to shut up already) recapitulate the entire poem -- not just the poem so far, but through to the end. Am currently bogged down in the Midlands by a catalog of every English saint through history.

Kokoro Connect volume 4 -- which is actually painful kinda to read, what with one of the protagonists slipping into undiagnosed depression and the others flailing around trying to figure out what to do. Am halfway through, but not reading it quickly.

Li Po and Tu Fu being selections translated by Arthur Cooper. The rambly introduction is not as good or well-written as A.C. Graham's for Poems of the Late Tang and the translations are of variable quality, but the translation notes are excellent. Cooper chose a fairly tight English form to match the tightness of the Chinese originals, producing interesting tensions that he does not always fully control. Also, I sometimes find the lineation distracting, though I generally see why he does it. Am about halfway through the Li selections.

What I might read next:

For sinologia, after "Li-Tu" I'm wavering between a recent translation of The Book of Songs and more Du Fu. Aside from that, who knows -- I've been jumping about a bit, with many things not holding my attention.

---L.

"The frost performs its secret ministry / Unhelped by any wind"

2013-06-10T15:06:23Z

Our local arthouse theater is doing another Studio Ghibli festival -- this time focusing the non-Miyazaki movies. Last night, we saw Whisper of the Heart, my favorite Ghibli movie not directed by a Miyazaki (tho' Hayao wrote, storyboarded, and produced it). It has a lot of good things to tell young creative artists, especially writers. I love love love that the novel Shizuku writes is, based on the snippets we see, a hot mess. One that, now that she's finished it and so knows she can finish a novel, she can sit back and revise. And, yanno, go back to studying for exams. Also, somehow being a stalker with a library card manages to be more charming than ye typical teenage stalker with a crush.

What particularly struck me this time through was the translation of "Country Roads" that Shizuku does for her friend in the school choir. Her first version is more-or-less literal (to order of a few miscontruals), and also stilted and even more trite than the original, as she herself recognizes. For her revision, she aims for lyrics that match the spirit and the general situation of the original, and gets something that's much better. (This is even obvious in subtitles.)

No lessons for older creative artists to learn here, nope ...

(Eventually, I'll have something more coherent to say about Only Yesterday, which I finally saw, beyond "ohmygawdsthesceneryporn." But not quite yet.)

---L.

"the rude / Wasting of old Time—with a billowy main— / A sun—a shadow of a magnitude"

2013-06-08T14:51:15Z

So according to this and several other Japanese-to-English dictionaries, a mantô is a "ninja weapon disguised as a pair of garden shears." This, of course, demanded immediate investigation. As in, hello what?

However, the usual ninja reference sites don't seem to know about it, nor do ninja weaponry stores offer to sell any. None of the main online Japanese dictionaries know about it either, nor Japanese Wikipedia. The bulk of the first couple pages of searches in Japanese are ... all Japanese-to-English dictionary sites. (Searches in English are overwhelmed with noise from Spanish hits.) Hmmm. And, hmmm.

There are a couple Japanese hits that claim to know of this thing and even a couple images, one even more or less claiming that it's used exactly how you'd expect: for infiltrating a castle while disguised as a gardener. So while I'm not fluent enough to evaluate webpage reliability in Japanese, it looks to not be a complete invention of a translation dictionary compiler, propagated outward. But I can't completely rule out feedback from same.

Has anyone ever heard of this? Anyone have an All Things Ninja Reference Book? Or a ninja joke?

(Found because I was looking up 萬, an outdated kanji for 10,000 used in one of the two ways of writing the word.)

---L.

"when the sun came in so strong / sing them till the daybreak / that's how I became strong"

2013-06-06T18:10:04Z

Three exactly-what-it-says-on-the-tin links:

Tastuo Horiuchi, Excel spreadsheet artist. (via)

US founding fathers in pin-up poses. (via)

Photographs of daybreak from the top of Mt. Fuji. (more)

---L.

"yami no naka ni / hitomi tojite / hoshi no kagayaki ni / mimi o sumashiteru"

2013-06-04T15:53:10Z

(in the darkness / I close my eyes / and try to listen to / the brightness of the stars)

"Nothing breeds radicalism more than unhappiness unless it is leisure" is a very ugly statement.

Proof of water action on Mars. Which is to say, some preliminary findings have been confirmed.

Recent results from CERN are bringing up deep questions of what kind of universe we live in, and increasingly it looks like it we might be in one branch of a multiverse, each with slightly different laws and constants, with ours one of the few where it all works out that life can happen.

(all via)

Oh, and regarding the current leader in the last post's poll, the translation I have was first published in Beijing in 1979 and has a hilariously full-on Marxist introduction. That alone may make it worth reading.

---L.

"we have years and days and hours left to kill / and the means to make them pay"

2013-06-02T21:00:18Z

As I ponder what long-haul novel I want to read next, I realized I could also ask for your opnions.

View Poll: #1916973

Mind, I'm not promising to read the winner, but it'll certainly be a factor.

---L.

"Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle, / Out of the Ninth-month midnight"

2013-05-31T14:26:37Z

Speaking of signal-boosting janni, she's started an interesting series of guest posts called Writing for the Long Haul by writers who've been publishing more than ten years talking about, well, what it takes to keep being an author. The intro post has a better explanation. I was especially taken with Kathi Appelt's post, and look forward to further installments.

TV Tropes takes the bait and lists out all the lampshades in the trailer for "Movie Title". Warning: TV Tropes link.

From NASA's Landsat Data Continuity Mission, 15 minutes of a 120-mile-wide shot across 6000 miles of the Earth: The Long Pan. As Kottke puts it, "Feel free to put on some Sigur Rós while you watch" -- I recommend the first half of ( ). (via all over)

---L.

A Reading Wednesday of very little reading

2013-05-29T14:35:00Z

Though before we get to that, you all should go watch the book trailer for janni's Faerie After, the final book of the trilogy. It is, of course, for linking around, if you feel like it. And possibly even, if available in your area, get a copy at the retailer of your choice, now that it's out.

Got that? Good.

What I've recently finished since my last post:

Between pre-occupied with deadlining at work and heavy travel both weekends, not much: The Common Reader by Virginia Woolf -- another read started months ago, and I finally read the last handful of reviews.

(DNF: Gosick volume 1, giving up three-quarters of the way through when I realized I just didn't care.)

What I'm reading now:

I think the only other prose I've touched is 1/3 of Kokoro Connect volume 4 and about 2/3 of the stories of Georgette Heyer's Pistols for Two, the latter mostly during take-offs and landings.

By way of Chinese verse, am nearly through Birrell's Popular Songs and Ballads of Han China. By way of travel verse, finished part 19 of Poly-Olbion -- only the one, but we're heading into Norfolk, so I've some fenny bits to look forward to -- and started volume 30 of Poems of Places, being Canada, Latin America, and the Caribbean. By way of Victoriana, alternated between The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse (~halfway through), The English Poets starting post-Landor, and more of Browning's Dramatic Lyrics.

And by way of sequential art: 1) Yi Soon Shin: Warrior and Defender by Kompan, Timpano, et al., picked up at Phoenix Comicon, based on the life of Korean admiral (and general badass) Yi Sun-sin, with a focus on his role in the Japanese Imgin invasions. Just getting started, actually. 2) Umi no Misaki volumes 1-12 by Kô Fumizuki. I've no excuse for this one: harem story with a Shinto overlay of a setup.

What I'll read next:

Who knows ...

---L.

"When the stars threw down their spears / And watered heaven with their tears / Did he smile ... ?"

2013-05-27T16:24:16Z

Last year at Phoenix Comicon I folded a Chinese zodiac. For this year, to improve on this, I clearly had to do the same in foil:

ETA: Click to embiggen.

Wasn't all I did, but it was the work I was proudest of. It also caught the most attention.

---L.

"you tell her she can manage/you can't change the way she feels/you could put your arms around her"

2013-05-25T14:37:23Z

Your assignment:

Adam is an unlucky everydude still trying to get the hang of this sudden "being alive" thing, Eve is a type A tsundere, Lilith is miss tall, dark, and snarky who isn't helping smooth things over -- GO.

---L.

"it seems that all my bridges have been burnt / but you say that's exactly how this grace thing work

2013-05-23T14:28:18Z

It's shading into late May without the ice having broken on the Santa Cruz River -- which is local idiom for reaching 100°F. Not that the Santa Cruz has had water through the year for a century, but that doesn't stop us from pretending. The point being that hovering in the mid-90s this long means we're having a relatively mild month -- and indeed, the smaller cacti are still blooming in yellows and reds and magentas, and the tall saguaro are still getting started on trumpeting white at the world.

This morning, though, the mountains were hazed, and distinctly fainter to the northeast -- bringing out the folds and ridges of the landscape. And in the air, the distinct tang of pine smoke.

It's started: wildfire season.

---L.

"you're a boy and I'm a girl / but you know you can lean on me / and I don't have no fear"

2013-05-21T18:12:19Z

One way to deconstruct the Manic Pixie Dream Girl (see also Wikipedia): the Manic Pixie Prostitute (more-or-less SFW). Or maybe I mean "satirize." Either way.

Via Metafilter, where there's also good discussion in the comments. (Yes, this sometimes happens on the Internets.)

---L.

"on the shore/Of the wide world I stand alone, and think/Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink"

2013-05-17T17:54:02Z

Hamlet in 15 minutes as told via clips of various performances and movie characters making pop-culture references. (via)

(I am disappointed they didn't work in Christopher Reeve doing the graveyard scene on The Muppet Show.)

Ring of Fire, timelapse video of sunrise during an annular eclipse. (via)

---L.

Reading Wednesday means midweek words words words

2013-05-15T14:14:47Z

What I've recently finished since my last post:

Sayonara Piano Sonata volume 2 by Hikaru Sugii -- oh the aaangst. With classical+rock music geeking out. And random Hungarian. Plus the band's first gig. What's not to like?

Tsurugi no Joou no Rakuin no Ko ("the sword queen and the branded/marked child") volume 1 by also Hikaru Sugii, an otherwise well-written European-ambient high fantasy that gets one point off for presenting a classic tsundere heroine without integrating that aspect with the rest of her characterization. She does look visually striking on the battlefield, though. I should mention that the story very bloody and angsty to the point of suicidal, and that the marked child is a teenager who has been living as a mercenary swordsman and occasional mass murderer for ten years, but with those caveats, recommended.

Mahô Kôkô no Rettôsei volume 8 by Tsutomu Satô, where within a frame that lightly sketches some consequences of the previous volume, we flashback to the critical events of three years before the series start and get to see even more of just how fucked up the Shiba siblings' family is -- not to mention more of the messed-up post-crash world they live in. A surprisingly well-constructed story, actually -- it covers all but one major backstory event alluded to so far, and it was only in retrospect that I realized how it would have been a failure of craft to include that. If Satô's moral vision keeps growing, this may get really interesting.

Utsuro no Hako to Zero no Maria ("the empty box and the zeroth Maria") volumes 1-2 by Eiji Mikage. In the first book, our protagonist, an otherwise ordinary high school student, is caught inside a wish gone horribly wrong -- one that causes the same day to be repeated, at the start of which a beautiful girl transfers into his class just before the end of the school year several thousand times. The non-linear structure is handled well, and it's even appropriate. In volume 2, the wish-gone-horribly-wrong causes different chronological difficulties, handled with equal structural aplomb. The writing sensibility (I can't gauge the style very well in translation) is slightly more literary than most light novels I've read, in ways I can't quite put my finger on but may have something to do with the existential concerns, even while the tone is shading more and more into psychological thriller territory. Will be reading more.

What I'm reading now:

Poems of Places ed. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow -- recently finished volumes 17-18, the Germany books, and 19, Greece and the Balkans. It's not like the Spanish books didn't include a lot of ballads about the Reconquista, but it sure felt like there's more German poems about war than any installment so far. One thing I've noticed: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage is quoted a lot, at pretty much every location Byron toured, but Don Juan not so much -- shows how well I can guess at Longfellow's taste. (I was also surprised to see so much Góngora in the Spanish bits.) Next up is Russia -- I expect heavy exoticization. One can hope it will include bears.

By way of slower bits of poetry, there's Poly-Olbion by Michael Drayton (I've finished part 18 (of 30) and we're about to head north of the Thames), and by way of random bits, various pieces of Browning from his Dramatic Lyrics/Dramatic Romances/Men and Women period.

By way of orientalizing, I'm about halfway through Birrell's Popular Songs and Ballads of Han China and despite that have also started Inscribed Landscapes: Travel Writing from Imperial China by Richard E. Strassberg.

What I'll read next:

Probably the next volumes of Utsuro no Hako to Zero no Maria (#3) and Sayonara Piano Sonata (#3), or possibly Kokoro Connect (#4). And maybe -- just maybe -- more poetry. Possibly sonnets.

---L.

"He lov'd my worthless rhymes, and like a friend / Would find out something to commend"

2013-05-13T16:05:18Z

Now here's odd duck ---- er, let me rephrase.

Here's yet another odd duck: The English Poets: Selections with Critical Introductions by Various Writers edited by Thomas Humphry Ward with a long introduction by his wife's uncle, Matthew Arnold. What first caught my attention is the publication date of "1880–1918." It's a five-volume work, and internal evidence strongly suggests that volume 4 was published between 1882–88, probably in the earlier side of that span, and volume 5 was compiled no earlier than 1915, after Rupert Brooke's death, and probably late in the War.

That is an interesting gap. I have not yet explored the changes in the editor's (editors'?) taste in those 30+ years, but I suspect I'll find some. The list of commentators almost completely changes, certes, unlike the continuity of the first four volumes. As it is, the structure of the whole goes wonky around that chasm, as the until-then roughly chronological organization trips over the inclusion criteria of date of death. (This probably also causes some issues at the end of volume 5.)

Curious, though, that the front-matter doesn't acknowledge the hiatus -- or if you prefer, the new addition/edition.

Also, Matthew Arnold would not have been my first choice to introduce Keats, but I did in fact learn a few things from him.

---L.

"can't stand the thought / of a ghost with a negative age / turn the page / okay"

2013-05-11T16:41:10Z

Signal boost: asakiyume has a story of numbers.

---L.

"dark scents whisper; and dim waves creep to me,/Gleam like a woman’s hair, stretch out, and rise"

2013-05-09T16:10:41Z

I link to this not so much to point at Rupert Brooke writing a sonnet about Hawai'i, though this is amusing enough,* but for the endearing spelling of "eukaleli." This would be, I take it, from an era before a romanization was settled on. *plink plink*

* For the record, he did spend a wanderjahr in the South Pacific and also wrote about Tahiti. But still. Rupert Brooke, of all people.

The UMass Amherst library has a live-streaming peregrine falcon nest cam. There are chicks. (via)

The University of California Press has a large number of its books available for reading online by the general public.

(edited for clarity)

---L.

"blood and drunkenness make but foul, foul weather"

2013-05-07T14:27:09Z

Time-lapse (with narration) of an ice-breaker traveling through the Ross Sea looking for patches of open water where phytoplankton bloom: Two Months Breaking Ice. Includes bonus footage of penguins doing penguin things squawk. (via)

The world's smallest movie: A Boy and His Atom. (via)

How the austerity delusion came to have such a hold on recent economic thought. One key piece of info: Germany has always had an export-driven economy. (via)

---L.

"Her feet beneath her petticoat / Like little mice stole in and out, / As if they feared the light"

2013-05-05T21:40:56Z

Zombie Ipsum, for all your undead layout needs. (via)

New slang conjunction slash conjunctive adverb identified in the wild. (via)

Quiz of the week: 18th Century Connecticutian or Muppet? (via)

---L.

"life is just a party and parties weren't meant to last"

2013-05-03T15:23:33Z

Possibly inappropriate responses to 1100-year-old poems: When a female singer/entertainer seeing off a male friend traveling to Kyushu* for a hot-spring cure writes (in Kokinshu #387):

inochi dani
kokoro ni kanau
mono naraba
nani ka wakare no
kanashikaramashi

If only our lifespans
somehow corresponded to
our hearts' desires,
would separation still be
something so agonizing?

I want to tell her to ask the elves about what farewells are like when you're immortal. Go ahead, ask them. I dare you.

* An arduous journey that suggests he was doing it for health reasons -- and was in serious condition.

---L.

Reading Wednesday makes the memesheep "baaa"

2013-05-01T14:19:00Z

What I've recently finished since my last post - in this case, three weeks ago:

The Silver Branch by Rosemary Sutcliff -- finished the day of the last post. I cannot help but wonder that as part of the novel's effect Sutcliff was relying on her reader's reactions to Cullen with his titular silver branch -- ones that, half a century later in a different culture, I simply don't have. Or maybe it's just a flatter story.

Kokoro Connect volumes 2-3 by Sadanatsu Anda. Apparently I never mentioned reading volume 1 last year? Or at least, I can't find the post. Five high school students become subjects of psychological experiments by a mysterious inhuman entity called Heartseed (fûsenkazura). In the first volume, they are subject to randomly swapping bodies, in second, to acting at random times on their immediate impulse -- later volumes involve other tests. As one might hope, each character is well-defined and their reactions are appropriately various -- especially as this brings out how past traumas produce different scars in different people. I am, btw, quite taken with the style of the covers, which are drawn (by the character designer of K-On!) as candid photos of teenagers messing around -- volume 3 illustrates this particularly well, with one character noticing the "camera" and posing for it before another can react. Recommended. The only reason I did not continue the series is that hospital waiting rooms are not the best place for teen angst novels, however well handled.

Poems of Places ed. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow volumes 9-10, being the tour of France, volumes 14-15, of Spain, Portugal, Belgium, and Netherlands, and the second half of volume 16, Austria (I read the first half, Switzerland, last year). This is, um, a lot of poetry -- each of these volumes is a good-sized anthology of its own -- but mental travel fit the bill in said waiting in hospitals.

Yokohama Kaidashi Kikô v6 by Hitoshi Asano. This is where Alpha finally uses the "everybody's ships" metaphor -- much later than I'd remembered, given how important it is to the series: as a near-immortal robot, she stands on the shore while human ships sail on. It isn't used often, but it will pack an emotional punch when it returns.

Trent's Last Case by E.C. Bentley. Sadly, this is an early Golden Age mystery completely devoid of clerihews. I am most disappointed. In all other genre respects, it served quite nicely, especially as an example of playing with genre tropes even as they are being codified.

Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan, First Series by Lafcadio Hearn, which I've been poking at off-and-on over several months as the mood hit me, and only finally finished.

What I'm reading now:

Poly-Olbion by Michael Drayton -- am up to song 17, more than halfway through, though we've only just reached London. Presumably tourism of parts north will get more hurried, though hopefully not in a "if it's Tuesday, this must be ~~Amsterdam~~ York" sort way. I'm finding the bits of embedded history lessons interesting enough that I want to read the pre-Norman volume of Holinshed. Which I may want to anyway.

Popular Songs and Ballads of Han China by Anne Birrell, being heavily annotated translations of folk songs collected, or in some cases written, by the imperial Music Bureau (yue-fu) between roughly 200 BCE–200 CE -- so the true old stuff, rather than the literary poems in the style of same I'm familiar with from Tang writers.

Poems of Places volume 17, being the first half of Germany. So far, the nationalism is notably stronger than in previous volumes -- I wonder whether the timing of unification, just before this was compiled, had any effect here. Also, less Goethe than I expected.

(Prose? What prose?)

What I'll read next:

On to Sutcliff's The Lantern Bearers as soon as I pick up my reserve at the library, and probably Kokoro Connect volume 4. The second series of Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan could also sneak in there somewhere. And more poetry, like as not. Just a guess.

---L.

"we're burning new sunrise into yesterday's skies / an ashen fingerprint melts into the sea"

2013-04-29T14:28:02Z

How the design of chess sets became standardized. (via)

Kusadama me! for most, if not all, your really beautiful unit origami needs. (via)

How to debunk a chemtrail theory -- there are multiple flavors, so you have cutomize the arguments based on the claim at hand. I especially like the collection of historical evidence that contrails have always behaved like we're seeing now and that supposedly man-made clouds existed before planes. The same site also has a documentary history of chemtrail conspiracy theories. (via)

---L.

"The last age should show your heart/For lady you deserve this state/Nor would I love at lower rate"

2013-04-27T16:00:23Z

So last weekend, we snuck away from family obligations for an afternoon of hiking on Antelope Island -- where there are, indeed, pronghorn antelope. More surprising, though, was the presence of even more bison -- as in a couple thousand of them wandering around the preserve in their bovine way, for definitions of "bovine" that include large, shaggy, and wild. Not just on the green hills, either, but on the beaches, the roads, the trails, and so on. The sort of wild, shaggy bovines that you have to let wander off the way before you can continue on.

This brought up an important question. See, from years of camping throughout the American west, we've developed a rule-of-thumb definition for what counts as the Middle Of Nowhere: not just that there are cattle on the road, but that the cattle have just as much business being on the road as you do. (NB: this definition does not work in Europe, or indeed anywhere transhumance is practiced, and probably not the rest of the world.) What about buffalo, though? If they have just as much business there are you, is it still middle of nowhere?

Your opinion on this important issue is solicited.

---L.