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1enheduanna
I'm going to try to actually keep up with this thread this year. So, January's books:
1. The Peony Pavilion by Xianzu Tang
The Peony Pavilion is a Chinese opera, and I have to say, it's got everything, from love, war, and battles, to sex with ghosts, grave-robbing and necrophilia references--even a scene in hell. I think what surprised me the most about it is the way it effortlessly combines the quality of really excellent literature with satire and (in some instances rather extreme) bawdiness. It was sort of like reading a combination of Shakespeare and Chaucer. There were quite a lot of similarities to Shakespeare, and while I do think that's a bit too easy a comparison, it was written at about the same time. I can't comment at all on the musical quality because I've never seen any of it performed and even if I had, I don't know the first thing about Chinese opera. I have only one small issue with the edition I read, and that is that there simply weren't enough notes to explain the MANY references within the text. I was surprised by how many I understood from my own previous reading, but for the majority, I simply had to accept that this was a reference I didn't understand and move on. Now.. I do understand why he avoided annotating the references. The play has 55 scenes to begin with (to perform the entire thing requires several days), and to sufficiently explain all the classical references would probably have at least doubled, if not tripled the size of the book and thoroughly overwhelmed any non-expert reader. But personally, I would have liked more elucidation. In terms of theme, I could not take seriously the idea of love as presented in the play. It was just asinine to my modern sensibilities. But you read these things with a suspension of disbelief, and it certainly was beautiful. However, I did find quite interesting the author's attempt to reconcile Confucian principles with the realities of human emotion, tendencies and relationships. I have enormous animus toward Confucianism, and I'll admit it. But the way he handled it didn't set me off, I think partially because he satirized it so often, and in a realistic way, by pointing out situations in which it's just plain silly. I should mention that the play is easy to read, the conventions of the style in which it was written don't get terribly annoying, and it's not in the least boring. Too much sex for that, really. It's surprisingly accessible and the translation must be good because all of the textual nuances were plain and easy to identify. Notes were not required, for instance, to tell when someone was telling a joke or making fun of someone, or when there was a lewd reference.
2. Murder on Several Occasions by Jonathan Goodman
Murder on Several Occasions is probably the best true crime book I've read. It covered a number of murders, only a couple of which were new to me, but I learned something new about even the ones I was thoroughly familiar with. But what made it especially good was not only the quality of the research, but the very high quality of the writing, rare in the field. To make it absolutely irresistible, there were wonderful illustrations for the frontispieces for each article. I became quite fond of the cutest picture of (one assumes) a raven or crow that was scattered all through the book.
3. The Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor
I think that the author thought he was really clever coming up with this. I don't agree. I think it could have been better; in fact, it could have been good. But there were too many scenes that seemed to fall totally flat primarily because of lack of skill on the part of the writer. I didn't dislike it, but I'm not able to say I thought it was well done. I was almost totally indifferent to it. Sometimes I thought I'd be able to get involved with it, but it never really panned out. I did like the incipient romance between Alyss and Dodge.... well, because I almost like Dodge. At least, I sympathize with him. I'd sympathize with Alyss, too, if the writer did a better job fleshing out her motivations and internal struggle. I just don't know if the prospect of reading more about their relationship will be enough to get me to read the sequels. But I had to at least check it out. If I didn't have to do most of the work imagining the inner lives of these characters, I'd be more inclined to continue with it. That said, I think it's probably sufficient for a few hours of diversion for the intended audience. There's really nothing wrong with disposable literature, so long as it doesn't think too much of itself. And if you ignore the smug face in the author's photo, this one doesn't really.
4. Love in Excess by Eliza Haywood
Well! That was quite the bodice-ripper. It has the advantage, however, of actually being written during the era one wore such things, as opposed to later anachronistic renderings. It was quite as silly--not at all realistic in terms of the action, particularly in the third section--but quite interesting in other ways. The major focus of the book was female sexuality constrained by a patriarchal system in which it was the height of shame for a woman to admit she loved before she was made an offer by the man. In another aspect, it was helpful to have read it when it comes to tracing not only the development of the novel in terms of literature, but also in terms of commerce--how such a thing became a viable way to support oneself. It was also interesting to compare it thematically and structurally with later 18th and early 19th century styles. I had some issues with the edition, though. I appreciate not wanting to excessively modernize an older text, but I don't think it would really be out of bounds to regularize at least the spelling of character names throughout. I did like that they used Johnson's dictionary as the reference for word definitions in the footnotes.
5. The Waiting Years by Fumiko Enchi
The Waiting Years was an exceptionally good novel. I'm still digesting it, and I'm really not sure quite what to say about it. It had that dramatic, understated power that I've come to expect from really excellent Japanese literature, but its quality extended to more than that. At the very end I just sat there blinking at the last page, because it really took me a few moments to comprehend what she had done.
6. Swedish Folk Tales by John Bauer
That was one of the best fairy/folk tale books I have read. I'm really surprised by not only how good it was but also by how much I liked it. I really didn't think I'd go for stories involving trolls and the like, though that's not all there was. But I did like them; I thought they were perfectly charming. Properly, the book was an anthology of stories written by several different authors but all illustrated by John Bauer, whose work is just lovely. The quality of the tales and the writing was consistent throughout. The book itself is big--solidly bound and with clear reproductions. There were just a couple of minor typos, but all around a thoroughly excellent story book. I am extremely pleased to have it.
7. Morality for Beautiful Girls by Alexander McCall Smith
Nothing can make you grateful for your blessings like a Precious Ramotswe book. They always seem to make me cry at least once. This one made me cry twice. I really like this series.
8. The Rebels by Sandor Marai
This was a reread. It's just one hell of a book. Even reading it again it lost none of its power.
9. The Grass-Cutting Sword by Catherynne M. Valente
The Grass-Cutting Sword is, like the other book of hers that I read, rather annoying. This one is like listening to someone get really excited about pretentiously interpreting a myth cycle, when you've heard it all before. Especially in the Orochi sections. And we all know that if there is a snake in a myth then the only interpretive place you can go is feminism. Oy. But that's not to say that it's a total waste of paper. I actually found myself commiserating with Susanoo, particularly when he has to interact with humans. One of the things that I think is so interesting about the Amaterasu/Susanoo myth is what it might reveal about the development of a matriarchal society into a patriarchal one, and the interaction between the Jomon and Yayoi cultures. But this is fiction; all I'm going to get is more tired feminist exploration of the ambiguity of male/female relationships. Frankly, it bores me. The sex is just beaten to death, and it loses its power and meaning. Kirino's treatment of the Izanagi/Izanami myth will be so much better, and I can't wait to read it. I wish I knew when it's going to be published.
10. Maurice by E.M. Forster
Maurice was very good. Such an incredibly perceptive and sensitive portrait. I'm really impressed with it. The writing is accomplished, which you'd expect, but though I've read two of his other books, it was so long ago that I didn't remember the feel of his prose. It was what D.H. Lawrence ought to be but isn't. Mostly because he's an ass, I think, but that's just my opinion. I really loathe his writing. Anyway, I thought this novel was particularly well constructed. Clive's chastity contrasted with Maurice's very physical nature; the repetition of the window scenes, the first with Clive asleep, the second with Maurice calling out; Clive's congenital hypocrisy, first in his homosexuality, then in his heterosexuality, and reflected even later in his social and political hypocrisy. It was just really very good. And written so early. It makes me want to reread his other books, but I've got no room in my agenda for him just at the moment. Maybe I'll get in another one later this year. Summer might be good. It would certainly raise the level of my reading. I usually only read garbage in the summertime.
11. 501 Must-Read Books
It's not the sort of thing I'd usually get for myself, but I have decided to think of it as a reference book. I have gotten quite a few good recs out of it, but honestly, I wasn't too impressed. For instance, in the entire list, there was only one east asian author represented (Mishima, of course). I really think the idea of making a list of even 500 books as the best or most important to read is impossible. Another major complaint I had was that the majority of the books they chose focused on social themes, and that they seemed to be a bit preoccupied with the booker award. I just don't think that literary awards really count for much. Personally, I think it's just another kind of popularity contest, albeit an elitist one. I certainly don't believe that awards are a sure indication of quality. There were some things I was pleasantly surprised by, however: Embers made the list, and Moomin in the children's section. I really don't want to count it in my reading tally, but...well, I read it.
12. A Tale of False Fortunes by Fumiko Enchi
A Tale of False Fortunes was excellent. It was perfect Heian historical fiction. Evidently so perfect that when it was first published, scholars actually started looking for the book Enchi claimed to have gotten the story from, even though it was a complete fabrication. One can understand their mistake, though. The story as she rendered it had an extremely authentic ring to it, and the few passages she "quoted" from the supposed original source were compelling even in translation. She must have done an expert job of rendering the style of Heian writing. I wish I could read it myself. Even if I get decently proficient at reading Japanese, untranslated Heian will still be beyond my grasp, because the language is so different from modern Japanese. Anyway, I especially enjoyed reading this. The issues surrounding Michinaga's takeover of power, sidelining the reigning empress and installing a second one at the same time to mention just the most glaring incident, are really very interesting, and I certainly enjoyed reading a perspective on events that was hostile to Michinaga. Most everything we have that is contemporaneous is sycophantic in its praise of him (I can think of only one exception off-hand), and it wears a little after a while. But in particular I liked that she addressed the idea (institution, actually) of female mediums and spirit possession. It has always stood out to me as an obvious method of political scheming and yet not once so far in anything I've read have Heian writers seemed to question the legitimacy of the practice or the veracity of the identification of the malevolent spirit. At least, not directly anyway. It was clearly such an easy way of attacking one's enemies, and knowing perfectly well that people were just as perfidious a thousand years ago as they are today, it is out of the question that this practice was never taken advantage of to further political ambitions. So one is left to wonder exactly which episodes of spirit possession were "legitimate", that is, was the girl really led by the environment to believe she was in a trance, as sometimes happens even today; and which ones were specifically engineered to the detriment of a political rival? We can exclude here instances of simple convenience: for example, a spirit medium claiming that all the recent natural disasters plaguing the capital were due to the vengeful spirit of Sugawara no Michizane, and could therefore be mitigated if only they would propitiate his spirit by giving him posthumous pardons and titles. I also liked her attempt to present in the character of Teishi an unconventional model of indomitable feminine power that was the opposite of an aggressive or dominating woman. It's an interesting idea, and I think she did a fairly convincing job of it, particularly with regard to the standards of feminine behavior of the time. It was brilliant of her to contrast Teishi's character in the book with the dowager empress's character as we know it to have been--exactly that scheming, power-hungry, dominating female that is in direct opposition to the model of Teishi. All that said, if the name Michinaga means nothing to you, likely neither will this book have any meaning. It's an alright love story, but it is by its very nature so tied up in the conventions of a somewhat obscure (at least, to the average person) culture, and the specifics of the literature and history of that particular moment in time that without some prior knowledge of it, the book won't have much of an impact. This would not be a problem in Japan, but I can understand why this particular book by an extremely well-regarded author had to be translated by a university press, when her other novels were brought out by regular publishers.
13. Ai no Kusabi by Reiko Yoshihara
Ai no Kusabi was quite gritty. From the compactness of the oav, I was expecting the story to have progressed further than it had by the end of this book. I don't actually know how many books there are, but this one dealt quite a lot with the social circumstances of the story, at the same time building up the tension for the action later on. Oh, it's trash, don't get me wrong; you don't have to go more than two pages in before you hit a pretty explicit scene (which, incidentally, is the only one you get in this book). Still, I like this stuff, and it is a change from the happy flowers of blossoming love that you get at the other end of the spectrum.
1. The Peony Pavilion by Xianzu Tang
The Peony Pavilion is a Chinese opera, and I have to say, it's got everything, from love, war, and battles, to sex with ghosts, grave-robbing and necrophilia references--even a scene in hell. I think what surprised me the most about it is the way it effortlessly combines the quality of really excellent literature with satire and (in some instances rather extreme) bawdiness. It was sort of like reading a combination of Shakespeare and Chaucer. There were quite a lot of similarities to Shakespeare, and while I do think that's a bit too easy a comparison, it was written at about the same time. I can't comment at all on the musical quality because I've never seen any of it performed and even if I had, I don't know the first thing about Chinese opera. I have only one small issue with the edition I read, and that is that there simply weren't enough notes to explain the MANY references within the text. I was surprised by how many I understood from my own previous reading, but for the majority, I simply had to accept that this was a reference I didn't understand and move on. Now.. I do understand why he avoided annotating the references. The play has 55 scenes to begin with (to perform the entire thing requires several days), and to sufficiently explain all the classical references would probably have at least doubled, if not tripled the size of the book and thoroughly overwhelmed any non-expert reader. But personally, I would have liked more elucidation. In terms of theme, I could not take seriously the idea of love as presented in the play. It was just asinine to my modern sensibilities. But you read these things with a suspension of disbelief, and it certainly was beautiful. However, I did find quite interesting the author's attempt to reconcile Confucian principles with the realities of human emotion, tendencies and relationships. I have enormous animus toward Confucianism, and I'll admit it. But the way he handled it didn't set me off, I think partially because he satirized it so often, and in a realistic way, by pointing out situations in which it's just plain silly. I should mention that the play is easy to read, the conventions of the style in which it was written don't get terribly annoying, and it's not in the least boring. Too much sex for that, really. It's surprisingly accessible and the translation must be good because all of the textual nuances were plain and easy to identify. Notes were not required, for instance, to tell when someone was telling a joke or making fun of someone, or when there was a lewd reference.
2. Murder on Several Occasions by Jonathan Goodman
Murder on Several Occasions is probably the best true crime book I've read. It covered a number of murders, only a couple of which were new to me, but I learned something new about even the ones I was thoroughly familiar with. But what made it especially good was not only the quality of the research, but the very high quality of the writing, rare in the field. To make it absolutely irresistible, there were wonderful illustrations for the frontispieces for each article. I became quite fond of the cutest picture of (one assumes) a raven or crow that was scattered all through the book.
3. The Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor
I think that the author thought he was really clever coming up with this. I don't agree. I think it could have been better; in fact, it could have been good. But there were too many scenes that seemed to fall totally flat primarily because of lack of skill on the part of the writer. I didn't dislike it, but I'm not able to say I thought it was well done. I was almost totally indifferent to it. Sometimes I thought I'd be able to get involved with it, but it never really panned out. I did like the incipient romance between Alyss and Dodge.... well, because I almost like Dodge. At least, I sympathize with him. I'd sympathize with Alyss, too, if the writer did a better job fleshing out her motivations and internal struggle. I just don't know if the prospect of reading more about their relationship will be enough to get me to read the sequels. But I had to at least check it out. If I didn't have to do most of the work imagining the inner lives of these characters, I'd be more inclined to continue with it. That said, I think it's probably sufficient for a few hours of diversion for the intended audience. There's really nothing wrong with disposable literature, so long as it doesn't think too much of itself. And if you ignore the smug face in the author's photo, this one doesn't really.
4. Love in Excess by Eliza Haywood
Well! That was quite the bodice-ripper. It has the advantage, however, of actually being written during the era one wore such things, as opposed to later anachronistic renderings. It was quite as silly--not at all realistic in terms of the action, particularly in the third section--but quite interesting in other ways. The major focus of the book was female sexuality constrained by a patriarchal system in which it was the height of shame for a woman to admit she loved before she was made an offer by the man. In another aspect, it was helpful to have read it when it comes to tracing not only the development of the novel in terms of literature, but also in terms of commerce--how such a thing became a viable way to support oneself. It was also interesting to compare it thematically and structurally with later 18th and early 19th century styles. I had some issues with the edition, though. I appreciate not wanting to excessively modernize an older text, but I don't think it would really be out of bounds to regularize at least the spelling of character names throughout. I did like that they used Johnson's dictionary as the reference for word definitions in the footnotes.
5. The Waiting Years by Fumiko Enchi
The Waiting Years was an exceptionally good novel. I'm still digesting it, and I'm really not sure quite what to say about it. It had that dramatic, understated power that I've come to expect from really excellent Japanese literature, but its quality extended to more than that. At the very end I just sat there blinking at the last page, because it really took me a few moments to comprehend what she had done.
6. Swedish Folk Tales by John Bauer
That was one of the best fairy/folk tale books I have read. I'm really surprised by not only how good it was but also by how much I liked it. I really didn't think I'd go for stories involving trolls and the like, though that's not all there was. But I did like them; I thought they were perfectly charming. Properly, the book was an anthology of stories written by several different authors but all illustrated by John Bauer, whose work is just lovely. The quality of the tales and the writing was consistent throughout. The book itself is big--solidly bound and with clear reproductions. There were just a couple of minor typos, but all around a thoroughly excellent story book. I am extremely pleased to have it.
7. Morality for Beautiful Girls by Alexander McCall Smith
Nothing can make you grateful for your blessings like a Precious Ramotswe book. They always seem to make me cry at least once. This one made me cry twice. I really like this series.
8. The Rebels by Sandor Marai
This was a reread. It's just one hell of a book. Even reading it again it lost none of its power.
9. The Grass-Cutting Sword by Catherynne M. Valente
The Grass-Cutting Sword is, like the other book of hers that I read, rather annoying. This one is like listening to someone get really excited about pretentiously interpreting a myth cycle, when you've heard it all before. Especially in the Orochi sections. And we all know that if there is a snake in a myth then the only interpretive place you can go is feminism. Oy. But that's not to say that it's a total waste of paper. I actually found myself commiserating with Susanoo, particularly when he has to interact with humans. One of the things that I think is so interesting about the Amaterasu/Susanoo myth is what it might reveal about the development of a matriarchal society into a patriarchal one, and the interaction between the Jomon and Yayoi cultures. But this is fiction; all I'm going to get is more tired feminist exploration of the ambiguity of male/female relationships. Frankly, it bores me. The sex is just beaten to death, and it loses its power and meaning. Kirino's treatment of the Izanagi/Izanami myth will be so much better, and I can't wait to read it. I wish I knew when it's going to be published.
10. Maurice by E.M. Forster
Maurice was very good. Such an incredibly perceptive and sensitive portrait. I'm really impressed with it. The writing is accomplished, which you'd expect, but though I've read two of his other books, it was so long ago that I didn't remember the feel of his prose. It was what D.H. Lawrence ought to be but isn't. Mostly because he's an ass, I think, but that's just my opinion. I really loathe his writing. Anyway, I thought this novel was particularly well constructed. Clive's chastity contrasted with Maurice's very physical nature; the repetition of the window scenes, the first with Clive asleep, the second with Maurice calling out; Clive's congenital hypocrisy, first in his homosexuality, then in his heterosexuality, and reflected even later in his social and political hypocrisy. It was just really very good. And written so early. It makes me want to reread his other books, but I've got no room in my agenda for him just at the moment. Maybe I'll get in another one later this year. Summer might be good. It would certainly raise the level of my reading. I usually only read garbage in the summertime.
11. 501 Must-Read Books
It's not the sort of thing I'd usually get for myself, but I have decided to think of it as a reference book. I have gotten quite a few good recs out of it, but honestly, I wasn't too impressed. For instance, in the entire list, there was only one east asian author represented (Mishima, of course). I really think the idea of making a list of even 500 books as the best or most important to read is impossible. Another major complaint I had was that the majority of the books they chose focused on social themes, and that they seemed to be a bit preoccupied with the booker award. I just don't think that literary awards really count for much. Personally, I think it's just another kind of popularity contest, albeit an elitist one. I certainly don't believe that awards are a sure indication of quality. There were some things I was pleasantly surprised by, however: Embers made the list, and Moomin in the children's section. I really don't want to count it in my reading tally, but...well, I read it.
12. A Tale of False Fortunes by Fumiko Enchi
A Tale of False Fortunes was excellent. It was perfect Heian historical fiction. Evidently so perfect that when it was first published, scholars actually started looking for the book Enchi claimed to have gotten the story from, even though it was a complete fabrication. One can understand their mistake, though. The story as she rendered it had an extremely authentic ring to it, and the few passages she "quoted" from the supposed original source were compelling even in translation. She must have done an expert job of rendering the style of Heian writing. I wish I could read it myself. Even if I get decently proficient at reading Japanese, untranslated Heian will still be beyond my grasp, because the language is so different from modern Japanese. Anyway, I especially enjoyed reading this. The issues surrounding Michinaga's takeover of power, sidelining the reigning empress and installing a second one at the same time to mention just the most glaring incident, are really very interesting, and I certainly enjoyed reading a perspective on events that was hostile to Michinaga. Most everything we have that is contemporaneous is sycophantic in its praise of him (I can think of only one exception off-hand), and it wears a little after a while. But in particular I liked that she addressed the idea (institution, actually) of female mediums and spirit possession. It has always stood out to me as an obvious method of political scheming and yet not once so far in anything I've read have Heian writers seemed to question the legitimacy of the practice or the veracity of the identification of the malevolent spirit. At least, not directly anyway. It was clearly such an easy way of attacking one's enemies, and knowing perfectly well that people were just as perfidious a thousand years ago as they are today, it is out of the question that this practice was never taken advantage of to further political ambitions. So one is left to wonder exactly which episodes of spirit possession were "legitimate", that is, was the girl really led by the environment to believe she was in a trance, as sometimes happens even today; and which ones were specifically engineered to the detriment of a political rival? We can exclude here instances of simple convenience: for example, a spirit medium claiming that all the recent natural disasters plaguing the capital were due to the vengeful spirit of Sugawara no Michizane, and could therefore be mitigated if only they would propitiate his spirit by giving him posthumous pardons and titles. I also liked her attempt to present in the character of Teishi an unconventional model of indomitable feminine power that was the opposite of an aggressive or dominating woman. It's an interesting idea, and I think she did a fairly convincing job of it, particularly with regard to the standards of feminine behavior of the time. It was brilliant of her to contrast Teishi's character in the book with the dowager empress's character as we know it to have been--exactly that scheming, power-hungry, dominating female that is in direct opposition to the model of Teishi. All that said, if the name Michinaga means nothing to you, likely neither will this book have any meaning. It's an alright love story, but it is by its very nature so tied up in the conventions of a somewhat obscure (at least, to the average person) culture, and the specifics of the literature and history of that particular moment in time that without some prior knowledge of it, the book won't have much of an impact. This would not be a problem in Japan, but I can understand why this particular book by an extremely well-regarded author had to be translated by a university press, when her other novels were brought out by regular publishers.
13. Ai no Kusabi by Reiko Yoshihara
Ai no Kusabi was quite gritty. From the compactness of the oav, I was expecting the story to have progressed further than it had by the end of this book. I don't actually know how many books there are, but this one dealt quite a lot with the social circumstances of the story, at the same time building up the tension for the action later on. Oh, it's trash, don't get me wrong; you don't have to go more than two pages in before you hit a pretty explicit scene (which, incidentally, is the only one you get in this book). Still, I like this stuff, and it is a change from the happy flowers of blossoming love that you get at the other end of the spectrum.
2enheduanna
last January book:
14. Yoshitsune translated by Helen Craig McCullough
What was most interesting to me about this book is the particular quality of the Muromachi period hero. It is quite distinct from Heian-era idealizations, even from late-Heian or Kamakura. The legendary version of Yoshitsune is far inferior in my opinion to the historical version, and it's interesting to see the development of his legend over time, from known facts to total flights of fancy, utterly unrelated to the real man. In fact, this particular cycle almost completely omits the entire Genpei war, the period of his greatest action and accomplishment. But it is the first major literary source for the characters of Benkei and Shizuka. Yoshitsune actually becomes a secondary character in the book, eclipsed by Benkei, who totally dominates the narrative. Frankly, as I've noticed in the earlier No plays, Yoshitsune doesn't come off very well in the later legends of him. It's as though after the war, he just sort of falls apart and becomes child-like. In one No play, this is clearly marked by the fact that his character is given the young boy category (not older than 15), even though it's set after the war and he's travelling with his mistress. So the question of how this develops is fascinating. Why is it, exactly, that the character of Benkei becomes the focus of Yoshitsune's legend later on, when if the man existed at all, he was not important enough to warrant mention in the earliest chronicles. It bespeaks not only a shift in the concept of a hero, but also a new focus of the culture as a whole. It terms of literary quality the book suffers in comparison to works such as Heike monogatari, but is really pretty decent in structure and style, despite Muromachi-era literature being considered for the most part merely imitative and degenerate forms of earlier high styles.
14. Yoshitsune translated by Helen Craig McCullough
What was most interesting to me about this book is the particular quality of the Muromachi period hero. It is quite distinct from Heian-era idealizations, even from late-Heian or Kamakura. The legendary version of Yoshitsune is far inferior in my opinion to the historical version, and it's interesting to see the development of his legend over time, from known facts to total flights of fancy, utterly unrelated to the real man. In fact, this particular cycle almost completely omits the entire Genpei war, the period of his greatest action and accomplishment. But it is the first major literary source for the characters of Benkei and Shizuka. Yoshitsune actually becomes a secondary character in the book, eclipsed by Benkei, who totally dominates the narrative. Frankly, as I've noticed in the earlier No plays, Yoshitsune doesn't come off very well in the later legends of him. It's as though after the war, he just sort of falls apart and becomes child-like. In one No play, this is clearly marked by the fact that his character is given the young boy category (not older than 15), even though it's set after the war and he's travelling with his mistress. So the question of how this develops is fascinating. Why is it, exactly, that the character of Benkei becomes the focus of Yoshitsune's legend later on, when if the man existed at all, he was not important enough to warrant mention in the earliest chronicles. It bespeaks not only a shift in the concept of a hero, but also a new focus of the culture as a whole. It terms of literary quality the book suffers in comparison to works such as Heike monogatari, but is really pretty decent in structure and style, despite Muromachi-era literature being considered for the most part merely imitative and degenerate forms of earlier high styles.
3enheduanna
First February books:
15. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
I've always liked Pride and Prejudice, and I read it slowly on purpose to make it last longer. I am always surprised that familiarity with Jane Austen's works does not lessen the enjoyment of reading them over again.
16. 100 Hieroglyphs by Barry Kemp
I really can't recommend 100 Hieroglyphs. It's just unreliable. He makes misleading statements, unfounded generalizations, and regularly speculates about the culture without evidence. All of which makes me question the accuracy of his explanations of the language.
17. Letters of a Portuguese Nun by Myriam Cyr
I was a little surprised by my reaction to the letters. I'd read them before, I know, but I can't remember how I felt about them. This time I had sort of an evolving sentiment. At first I didn't have a lot of patience with Mariana; I thought she had to be either stupid or extremely naive to have had any real expectations of longevity for this relationship between a nun and French officer. What sort of future could that have had? But who knows, maybe French nobility often married runaway nuns. And then of course, I didn't have much respect for Chamilly either, though I didn't think badly of him for not giving her any false hope after he was called back to France. But as the book went on, my attitude shifted. I ended up feeling quite sorry for Mariana, and Chamilly's character was almost totally rehabilitated. One of the main agendas of the book was to give the authorship of the letters back to Mariana, after later scholarship had decided that they were fiction, and written by someone else. It's pretty clear, if only by the coincidence of there actually being such a nun, in the exact right place, at the exact right time to fit each and every circumstance (even down to her actually being made doorkeeper as she claimed in one letter), that she did in fact write those letters. There is just as much evidence that the man who was later credited with them could not possibly have made them up himself, as he had never been to Portugal and would not have been in a position to know any of the details that were provided in the letters. It would have to be a bona fide miracle for him to create a work of fiction that so perfectly mirrored a real person, place and time that he could have known nothing about. The idea is ridiculous and I agree with the author of this book that it's outrageous that a bunch of men have decided that a woman wasn't capable of writing such passionate letters.
18. Prince of Darkness by Sharon Kay Penman
It wasn't great but it wasn't bad either. Really the only interest it holds is in the characters and the historical setting, if you happen to like that, rather than in the mystery/suspense. It suffered a bit from that in my case because this is, I think, the fourth in the series, none of which I've read, and it took me a while to orient myself. I wouldn't mind reading the others, but it's only a mild interest.
15. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
I've always liked Pride and Prejudice, and I read it slowly on purpose to make it last longer. I am always surprised that familiarity with Jane Austen's works does not lessen the enjoyment of reading them over again.
16. 100 Hieroglyphs by Barry Kemp
I really can't recommend 100 Hieroglyphs. It's just unreliable. He makes misleading statements, unfounded generalizations, and regularly speculates about the culture without evidence. All of which makes me question the accuracy of his explanations of the language.
17. Letters of a Portuguese Nun by Myriam Cyr
I was a little surprised by my reaction to the letters. I'd read them before, I know, but I can't remember how I felt about them. This time I had sort of an evolving sentiment. At first I didn't have a lot of patience with Mariana; I thought she had to be either stupid or extremely naive to have had any real expectations of longevity for this relationship between a nun and French officer. What sort of future could that have had? But who knows, maybe French nobility often married runaway nuns. And then of course, I didn't have much respect for Chamilly either, though I didn't think badly of him for not giving her any false hope after he was called back to France. But as the book went on, my attitude shifted. I ended up feeling quite sorry for Mariana, and Chamilly's character was almost totally rehabilitated. One of the main agendas of the book was to give the authorship of the letters back to Mariana, after later scholarship had decided that they were fiction, and written by someone else. It's pretty clear, if only by the coincidence of there actually being such a nun, in the exact right place, at the exact right time to fit each and every circumstance (even down to her actually being made doorkeeper as she claimed in one letter), that she did in fact write those letters. There is just as much evidence that the man who was later credited with them could not possibly have made them up himself, as he had never been to Portugal and would not have been in a position to know any of the details that were provided in the letters. It would have to be a bona fide miracle for him to create a work of fiction that so perfectly mirrored a real person, place and time that he could have known nothing about. The idea is ridiculous and I agree with the author of this book that it's outrageous that a bunch of men have decided that a woman wasn't capable of writing such passionate letters.
18. Prince of Darkness by Sharon Kay Penman
It wasn't great but it wasn't bad either. Really the only interest it holds is in the characters and the historical setting, if you happen to like that, rather than in the mystery/suspense. It suffered a bit from that in my case because this is, I think, the fourth in the series, none of which I've read, and it took me a while to orient myself. I wouldn't mind reading the others, but it's only a mild interest.
4enheduanna
19. The Bedside Book of Death by Robert Wilkins
I've noticed some factual errors in The Bedside Book of Death. They're fairly minor, and understandable mistakes, but it's always weird to find that I know more about certain subjects. For instance, there was one Egyptian mummy that was identified incorrectly.
The book was mainly an investigation of our fears surrounding death through the medium of historical examples of individual and cultural circumstances, written by a psychologist. Not bad, really, if you're into that kind of thing, which I am.
20. The Letters of Abelard and Heloise
Well, Abelard could never be accused of being humble, that's for sure. But apart from that, I think a lot of what he says, particularly in regard to Heloise and their past relationship is specious. I think only Heloise is at all honest with herself. I tried to remain unbiased and not let any misandry creep into my opinion but I can't help it: Abelard is a selfish ass. There's just no way around it. He went from being a selfish, degenerate, arrogant ass to a self-righteous, hypocritical, arrogant ass who refuses to take responsibility for his actions and deal with the emotional wreckage he left in his wake. He admits if not to outright rape (which I highly suspect that it was), at least to beating her in order to force her to have sex with him. The only thing I agree with him about is that his forced castration was ENTIRELY deserved. I can't say I exactly enjoy Heloise's letters either. I can't sympathize much with her because her reverence is reserved for the aforementioned ass. It does not reflect well on her. I really have no patience for that in anyone. But on the other hand, her learning, her erudition, her ability to dispute, her insight, her depth of feeling and her honesty cannot be denied. In these, as well as in her constitutional willingness to defy convention for the sake of higher principles, she's quite impressive. Again, though, I'm having a not unfamiliar problem with the tradition surrounding this story. I do not understand what is so romantic about this pair. Am I missing something? He was a predator, he admits this, and then he turns around and becomes a raging hypocrite, sermonizing to the whole world despite a conspicuous lack of credentials for that particular vocation, but never once, from first to last, does he lose an ounce of his astonishing conceit. And she idolizes him throughout. So incredibly intelligent and so very blind and stupid. This is romance? I hardly think so. It rather makes me ill.
21. The Children's Garden Book by Olive Percival
The Children's Garden Book is lovely. The best part are all the garden plans included at the end of the book. I really want to try some of them. And the lady who wrote it is an inspiration.
22. Un Lun Dun by China Mieville
I really liked Un Lun Dun. It was charming and creative and really very entertaining. I became totally involved with it as soon as Deeba took over, and unreservedly enthusiastic once I got to the suburb of the dead.
23. There is a Bird on Your Head by Mo Willems
This book is maybe twelve pages long, so I really shouldn't count it. I had read it several times in the bookstore before Matt bought it for me as a surprise Valentine's Day gift. It's funny how I'm almost totally indifferent to his more popular Pigeon series, but I really like the Elephant and Piggy books. There's no question he's got talent, though.
24. The Narrow Road to Oku by Matsuo Basho; illustrated by Miyata Masayuki
The point of this edition was obviously the stellar illustrations, not really a scholarly treatment, but I thought it was good in many ways. The notes were usually adequate (though I've not been able to find out anything about Sato Shoji), and as it was a bilingual edition (and now that I can read kana), I was able to learn more about the language itself, just from reading what I could of the Japanese version of the text.
25. The Annotated Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
The additional story in this edition that she wrote about her own robin made me cry. The annotations were mostly good, I think, but often they were repetitive, and I think occasionally they missed the point, or passed over without comment moments that could have been explored further. But in all, I thought it was quite a good edition of an excellent story. On the other hand, I have always found reading Yorkshire dialect intensely irritating and it also irked me that the children began to adopt it toward the end (though I agree it is only polite to try to learn the local language), but I remember that I had been a little irked by that even when I was a kid. And as good a story as I think this is, I couldn't help but reflect on how much better I like Edith Nesbit's work.
26. Death Note: Another Note by NISIOISIN
I really liked the death note novel. It was quite clever. You knew something was going on the whole time, but it wasn't forced at all. I liked all the little details. Even the fact that Mello narrated. It was a particularly good spin-off, as all the death note spin-offs seem to be. I'll probably read it again some time.
27. Theodora: Portrait in a Byzantine Landscape by Antony Bridge
This biography of Theodora is old, first published in the late 70s, I think, but it was a pretty good popular history, the regular references to communism notwithstanding. It didn't teach me anything I didn't already know about the Byzantine civilization, but what it was required to include in order to tell her story was comprehensive but still concise, and not misleading, as so often happens. I've always thought she was a fascinating character and I wish more was known about her. I originally got the book because the surveys of Byzantine history are really required to cover far too much (more than a thousand years!) to waste time detailing the life of even such an interesting character as Theodora, so I wanted to take the opportunity this book afforded, even if its scholarship might be out of date.
I've noticed some factual errors in The Bedside Book of Death. They're fairly minor, and understandable mistakes, but it's always weird to find that I know more about certain subjects. For instance, there was one Egyptian mummy that was identified incorrectly.
The book was mainly an investigation of our fears surrounding death through the medium of historical examples of individual and cultural circumstances, written by a psychologist. Not bad, really, if you're into that kind of thing, which I am.
20. The Letters of Abelard and Heloise
Well, Abelard could never be accused of being humble, that's for sure. But apart from that, I think a lot of what he says, particularly in regard to Heloise and their past relationship is specious. I think only Heloise is at all honest with herself. I tried to remain unbiased and not let any misandry creep into my opinion but I can't help it: Abelard is a selfish ass. There's just no way around it. He went from being a selfish, degenerate, arrogant ass to a self-righteous, hypocritical, arrogant ass who refuses to take responsibility for his actions and deal with the emotional wreckage he left in his wake. He admits if not to outright rape (which I highly suspect that it was), at least to beating her in order to force her to have sex with him. The only thing I agree with him about is that his forced castration was ENTIRELY deserved. I can't say I exactly enjoy Heloise's letters either. I can't sympathize much with her because her reverence is reserved for the aforementioned ass. It does not reflect well on her. I really have no patience for that in anyone. But on the other hand, her learning, her erudition, her ability to dispute, her insight, her depth of feeling and her honesty cannot be denied. In these, as well as in her constitutional willingness to defy convention for the sake of higher principles, she's quite impressive. Again, though, I'm having a not unfamiliar problem with the tradition surrounding this story. I do not understand what is so romantic about this pair. Am I missing something? He was a predator, he admits this, and then he turns around and becomes a raging hypocrite, sermonizing to the whole world despite a conspicuous lack of credentials for that particular vocation, but never once, from first to last, does he lose an ounce of his astonishing conceit. And she idolizes him throughout. So incredibly intelligent and so very blind and stupid. This is romance? I hardly think so. It rather makes me ill.
21. The Children's Garden Book by Olive Percival
The Children's Garden Book is lovely. The best part are all the garden plans included at the end of the book. I really want to try some of them. And the lady who wrote it is an inspiration.
22. Un Lun Dun by China Mieville
I really liked Un Lun Dun. It was charming and creative and really very entertaining. I became totally involved with it as soon as Deeba took over, and unreservedly enthusiastic once I got to the suburb of the dead.
23. There is a Bird on Your Head by Mo Willems
This book is maybe twelve pages long, so I really shouldn't count it. I had read it several times in the bookstore before Matt bought it for me as a surprise Valentine's Day gift. It's funny how I'm almost totally indifferent to his more popular Pigeon series, but I really like the Elephant and Piggy books. There's no question he's got talent, though.
24. The Narrow Road to Oku by Matsuo Basho; illustrated by Miyata Masayuki
The point of this edition was obviously the stellar illustrations, not really a scholarly treatment, but I thought it was good in many ways. The notes were usually adequate (though I've not been able to find out anything about Sato Shoji), and as it was a bilingual edition (and now that I can read kana), I was able to learn more about the language itself, just from reading what I could of the Japanese version of the text.
25. The Annotated Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
The additional story in this edition that she wrote about her own robin made me cry. The annotations were mostly good, I think, but often they were repetitive, and I think occasionally they missed the point, or passed over without comment moments that could have been explored further. But in all, I thought it was quite a good edition of an excellent story. On the other hand, I have always found reading Yorkshire dialect intensely irritating and it also irked me that the children began to adopt it toward the end (though I agree it is only polite to try to learn the local language), but I remember that I had been a little irked by that even when I was a kid. And as good a story as I think this is, I couldn't help but reflect on how much better I like Edith Nesbit's work.
26. Death Note: Another Note by NISIOISIN
I really liked the death note novel. It was quite clever. You knew something was going on the whole time, but it wasn't forced at all. I liked all the little details. Even the fact that Mello narrated. It was a particularly good spin-off, as all the death note spin-offs seem to be. I'll probably read it again some time.
27. Theodora: Portrait in a Byzantine Landscape by Antony Bridge
This biography of Theodora is old, first published in the late 70s, I think, but it was a pretty good popular history, the regular references to communism notwithstanding. It didn't teach me anything I didn't already know about the Byzantine civilization, but what it was required to include in order to tell her story was comprehensive but still concise, and not misleading, as so often happens. I've always thought she was a fascinating character and I wish more was known about her. I originally got the book because the surveys of Byzantine history are really required to cover far too much (more than a thousand years!) to waste time detailing the life of even such an interesting character as Theodora, so I wanted to take the opportunity this book afforded, even if its scholarship might be out of date.
5enheduanna
last February book and First March books:
28. The Sun Over Breda by Arturo Perez-Reverte
Oh, I do like these books. I especially liked the editorial note at the end of this one, with all the supposed scholarly research into the presence of Alatriste in Velasquez's painting of the surrender of Breda. The footnotes were great and the interview with Perez-Reverte by the editor was a nice touch. One of the things that makes reading the series so enjoyable is the very obvious pleasure the author took in writing it. I do hope the movie does it justice because I'd really love to see it translated to film. Viggo Mortensten is a good actor, even though I don't like most of what he's been in, and I think he could probably do a pretty good job as Alatriste. Anyway, I'll be really sad if it stinks. Or if they never release it over here....
29. Binu and the Great Wall by Su Tong
Binu and the Great Wall was an odd story, as many Chinese folk tales are. But there were many things about it that I liked, though my favorite part was probably the deer boys. It's the sort of story that makes you keep thinking about it, about what it was telling you, long after you finish reading it.
30. Taran Wanderer by Lloyd Alexander
I've been rereading the Prydain series for a couple of years now and I'm really enjoying picking the next one up every now and again. I'll probably finish it this year. Every time I get out the next volume I have to skip through the pages to read my favorite parts before I officially begin reading it. It is such a superbly crafted story.
28. The Sun Over Breda by Arturo Perez-Reverte
Oh, I do like these books. I especially liked the editorial note at the end of this one, with all the supposed scholarly research into the presence of Alatriste in Velasquez's painting of the surrender of Breda. The footnotes were great and the interview with Perez-Reverte by the editor was a nice touch. One of the things that makes reading the series so enjoyable is the very obvious pleasure the author took in writing it. I do hope the movie does it justice because I'd really love to see it translated to film. Viggo Mortensten is a good actor, even though I don't like most of what he's been in, and I think he could probably do a pretty good job as Alatriste. Anyway, I'll be really sad if it stinks. Or if they never release it over here....
29. Binu and the Great Wall by Su Tong
Binu and the Great Wall was an odd story, as many Chinese folk tales are. But there were many things about it that I liked, though my favorite part was probably the deer boys. It's the sort of story that makes you keep thinking about it, about what it was telling you, long after you finish reading it.
30. Taran Wanderer by Lloyd Alexander
I've been rereading the Prydain series for a couple of years now and I'm really enjoying picking the next one up every now and again. I'll probably finish it this year. Every time I get out the next volume I have to skip through the pages to read my favorite parts before I officially begin reading it. It is such a superbly crafted story.
6enheduanna
31. The Tale of Saigyo
I'd be interested to find out how different this literary account of his life differs from his own collection of his poetry, and the research that has been done on his real life. This tale is not really historical at all, and it clearly reflects the preoccupations of the time it was compiled. I think the later interpretations of late-heian era personalities and events are really interesting to compare with more contemporary historical accounts.
32. The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights by John Steinbeck
The last two chapters of this were amazing. They make the earlier chapters look positively pedestrian. I loved the characterization of Lancelot, especially his occupational resignation and wry quips. And I also loved what Steinbeck was trying to say with those two chapters. Not to mention they are excellent, lively and entertaining reads.
33. The Good Witch of the West book 1 by Noriko Ogiwara
I liked this. At first I thought the plot was going to be too thin to hold my interest, but this book just set up the intrigue and conspiracies for the rest of the story. By the end I was looking forward to getting to read the next one. I always try to read the original novels of manga and anime series that I'm interested in whenever they get published to encourage them to keep doing it, but I've been fortunate that I've not yet had to do it only on principle. It's rare, though, for me to buy the manga as well, but I might consider it for this one. I like the artist, and the story has a lot of visual potential.
34. Yakuza Moon by Shoko Tendo
The writing in Yakuza Moon is sparse, and frankly not especially good, but the content is absolutely fascinating. Her experiences are totally predictable thus far, but worth documenting. And the lack of polish in the writing serves to emphasize the gritty reality portrayed in the book.
35. The Babylonians by Gwendolyn Leick
This was a very general introduction to the Babylonians: geography, some general history, a little culture, and what can be learned about daily life from the material remains. Honestly, though, I really think it would be a little thick for a beginner who is totally ignorant of the area and time period. For me it was fine, because I've already read several books on the subject. I am interested in Babylonia, but my true interest is in Sumer, so while I liked this book, I can't really be terribly effusive about it. I bought it because I didn't have anything that really restricted itself to the culture of Babylon (most of what I have deals with a larger picture, from Sumer to Assyria), and because I really enjoyed another book by the same author about Mesopotamian cities. It was just about what I was expecting, and truly it had a high density of good information.
36. Persian Girls by Nahid Rachlin
I was surprised at myself for wanting to read this. I usually intentionally avoid this kind of thing because institutionalized misogyny sets me off in a big way and despite what many people might think, I don't actually enjoy being mad. But this book seemed to be (and in fact, is) more about an intensely personal attempt to understand a loss. Even so, I can't explain why I picked this up. I honestly don't know, even now. But it's good; it's well-written and interesting, and also relevant in an important way to our current political situation. She was very fair, and the narrative concentrated more on her emotional equilibrium than on taking a political or idealogical stance.
37. The House in Paris by Elizabeth Bowen
This was fantastic. The writing is excellent, the characters surprisingly fascinating and the story compelling. And Mme Fisher was so... insidious. That's really the only word for it. The children were magnificent. It was an excellent novel. I'll definitely be reading more of her work.
I'd be interested to find out how different this literary account of his life differs from his own collection of his poetry, and the research that has been done on his real life. This tale is not really historical at all, and it clearly reflects the preoccupations of the time it was compiled. I think the later interpretations of late-heian era personalities and events are really interesting to compare with more contemporary historical accounts.
32. The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights by John Steinbeck
The last two chapters of this were amazing. They make the earlier chapters look positively pedestrian. I loved the characterization of Lancelot, especially his occupational resignation and wry quips. And I also loved what Steinbeck was trying to say with those two chapters. Not to mention they are excellent, lively and entertaining reads.
33. The Good Witch of the West book 1 by Noriko Ogiwara
I liked this. At first I thought the plot was going to be too thin to hold my interest, but this book just set up the intrigue and conspiracies for the rest of the story. By the end I was looking forward to getting to read the next one. I always try to read the original novels of manga and anime series that I'm interested in whenever they get published to encourage them to keep doing it, but I've been fortunate that I've not yet had to do it only on principle. It's rare, though, for me to buy the manga as well, but I might consider it for this one. I like the artist, and the story has a lot of visual potential.
34. Yakuza Moon by Shoko Tendo
The writing in Yakuza Moon is sparse, and frankly not especially good, but the content is absolutely fascinating. Her experiences are totally predictable thus far, but worth documenting. And the lack of polish in the writing serves to emphasize the gritty reality portrayed in the book.
35. The Babylonians by Gwendolyn Leick
This was a very general introduction to the Babylonians: geography, some general history, a little culture, and what can be learned about daily life from the material remains. Honestly, though, I really think it would be a little thick for a beginner who is totally ignorant of the area and time period. For me it was fine, because I've already read several books on the subject. I am interested in Babylonia, but my true interest is in Sumer, so while I liked this book, I can't really be terribly effusive about it. I bought it because I didn't have anything that really restricted itself to the culture of Babylon (most of what I have deals with a larger picture, from Sumer to Assyria), and because I really enjoyed another book by the same author about Mesopotamian cities. It was just about what I was expecting, and truly it had a high density of good information.
36. Persian Girls by Nahid Rachlin
I was surprised at myself for wanting to read this. I usually intentionally avoid this kind of thing because institutionalized misogyny sets me off in a big way and despite what many people might think, I don't actually enjoy being mad. But this book seemed to be (and in fact, is) more about an intensely personal attempt to understand a loss. Even so, I can't explain why I picked this up. I honestly don't know, even now. But it's good; it's well-written and interesting, and also relevant in an important way to our current political situation. She was very fair, and the narrative concentrated more on her emotional equilibrium than on taking a political or idealogical stance.
37. The House in Paris by Elizabeth Bowen
This was fantastic. The writing is excellent, the characters surprisingly fascinating and the story compelling. And Mme Fisher was so... insidious. That's really the only word for it. The children were magnificent. It was an excellent novel. I'll definitely be reading more of her work.
