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Loading... In Praise of Shadows (1933)by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki
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Sign up for LibraryThing to find out whether you'll like this book. No current Talk conversations about this book. I'm currently reading The Power of Chowa, wherein Akemi mentions this book in passing. When i read the name of the writer i was sure i had some of his books in my pile of books waiting to be read, and sure enough, one of those books was this one. So i put aside The Power of Chowa for a while and gave this a read to fully understand the impression that Akemi was trying to give. And wow, this is definitely one to put on the shelf next to The Book of Tea. Both books have wonderful passages of ranting, but it's intelligent ranting fuelled by a genuine passion for something truly precious; and in between the passages of ranting one gets some wonderful, thought provoking passages of delightful, descriptive writing: this book is like a painting in words. Written in the 1930's, concerning Japan's modernisation it's news to me to read how, even before WWII and the surrender to the USA, Japan's desire to ape American culture was already underway. But, that aside, i do feel that Junichiro fails to appreciate that even in the west we have lost so many of our own shadows. It seems that most of my life that here in Europe, we have been hell bent on illuminating everything to ridiculous levels, banishing all shadow wherever it may lurk. The never ending pursuit of cleaning out the dirt and dust and any corners where it may lurk: banish the shadows for your own health's sake! The continued insistence on ridiculous levels of cleanliness and sterility within and without our homes, which has lead to ever lower immune function and plenty of allergies along with it. And it's not just the shadows, it's any semblance of quiet we will blast sound into. Where now can we truly be quiet and stare into the night sky and see the stars as they truly are? When was the last time you truly experienced the peaceful quite and shadows of the real world without modern technology to protect and coddle you? Or are you one of the new people, ever terrified of what unknowns may be lurking there where you hear and see nothing but vague outlines and impressions? I agree with Junichiro, we have lost something truly precious. The only thing i would say about this book is that, for me at least, the "Afterword" would be better placed as a "Foreword". I just feel that it would focus ones attention on certain things a lot more if they had been pointed out before hand instead of afterwards. I will definitely be reading this again at some point before i die and when i do i will definitely read the "Afterword" first. Seems more like an essay about what it means to be Japanese in the face of Meiji-era Westernization, or even modernization in general. It's valuable, I think, to think about what "realities of life" led to the architectural or aesthetic choices in your culture, especially during a time of rapid change. It's a good snapshot of Japan in 1933, and it led me to consider what it's like to lose a world of deep cultural and historical import, years of "patina" on its surface that can be polished away without a second thought. Tanizaki seems to be looking to hold on to a past that's quickly becoming forgotten completely, like when he bemoans the excessive lighting that is now present everywhere that overheats rooms but no one seems to notice or care. I liked the essay overall. At times it did ramble, but I don't fault it for that. It was a worthwhile read. Me gustaría resucitar al menos en el ámbito de la literatura, ese universo de sombras que estamos disipando... Me gustaría ampliar el alero de ese edificio llamado «literatura», oscurecer sus paredes, hundir en la sombra lo que resulta demasiado visible y despojar de su interior cualquier adorno superfluo. Al comienzo no entendía mucho el camino de este texto, comienza hablando de la forma de las casas en su barrio y termina hablando de comida, habla de la forma de la mujer oriental/occidental y acaba hablando de los ancianos que no quieren vivir en la ciudad. No entendía porqué ocurre todo este montón de párrafos (si bien es cierto, muchos me encantaron), pero al final entendí que este desarme de ideas es lo mismo que ocurre con la literatura, nos dejamos llevar por aquello que rodea el mundo literario (colores de tapas, sagas al cine, autores que se hacen conocidos) pero no vemos ni averiguamos más allá de lo que hay en las portadas. El mundo de la literatura está metido en una caja, ojo que no digo que toda la literatura moderna o los clásicos estén mal, solo creo en conclusión que no se está sacando el provecho máximo a este modo de arte. Como dijo el otro día un superior del consejo universitario: esa es la realidad de las bibliotecas, cada vez mas vacías y los libros menos usados. Sabemos que la realidad es diferente cuando se vive en ella diariamente y puede tener razón en un sentido, pero la verdad es que solo se deja llevar por lo que ve y no se hace presente ni se empeña en llegar al interior del asunto. Para eso ni siquiera hay que ser un acérrimo lector, solo con apreciar el trasfondo de esas obras que adoramos es más que suficiente, dejamos de lado las paredes y nos adentramos a la sombra de las palabras sacando el máximo de estas y eso es realmente lo valorable. no reviews | add a review
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Widely considered to be a classic, this essay on Japanese aesthetics by a major author ranges from the patina of lacquerware and the custom of moon-viewing to monastery toilets and the lighting in a brothel, while contrasting the Japanese sense of subtlety and nuance with Western imports such as electric lighting. No library descriptions found. |
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That’s what we have here in Tanizaki’s book. If you are reading this book for the right reasons, you’re here for the digressions, my favorite of which must be his breakdown of what makes a traditional Japanese bathroom superior to the Western style of sparking porcelain and white tile. Most striking was his quote of Soseki: “elegance is frigid” as support of why the bathroom should be cold and open to the outside- this in contrast to the warm dampness of the Western toilet. While not having given the issue much thought before, I must say I now see the toilets I’ve used my whole life for their over-lit, humid flaws.
As someone who has always considered himself a fan of Japanese aesthetics (despite what little I know) this book showed me that maybe I still have my western biases. Tanizaki’s descriptions of gloomy, paper walled rooms still dark at midday was not so appealing to me who values windows and sun, but I thought it an astute observation that “beauty necessarily must arise from the conditions of real life”. The Japanese people of yore had no better way of constructing their houses, so they had to adjust their design and aesthetics to suit the limitations of their everyday life. ( )