Bibliography
Apr. 18th, 2010 06:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_lady_lilyThe Kagerō Diary, trans Sonja Arntzen, University of Michigan, Center for Japanese Studies, 1997
I give all the blurb for this one because it's rather important to have in order to find this edition, which is excellent. One reason I think it works so well is that the translation has been done by someone with some sensitivity to modern issues of translation, including the problem of the word 'kagerō', usually translated as 'gossamer' but not actually quite meaning that. We don't know the name of the author of the diary; she normally goes by the name of Michitsuna's Mother, as we do know the name of her son. She is also unusual in that her diary is that of a woman not involved in courtly life, unlike The Diary of Lady Murasaki or The Pillow Book. This is the diary of a woman who was the second wife of a member of one of the important Japanese political families; her diary mainly records the deterioration of her relationship with her husband over many years, and her personal emotions during that period.
There are three books of the diary. The first charts the beginning of their marriage, the courtship, her jealousy of his other women (although not his first wife; Japanese society at this point was polygynous); the second charts the breakdown in their relationship and her personal inner turmoil, best described by her deliberations over whether to withdraw from the world and become a nun, and how she is fetched back from a long stay at a temple by her husband with her son's assistance; and the third book moves into her son's development into adulthood, her choice to adopt as a daughter a girl who is her husband's child, and the arrangement of her marriage.
It's far more domestic and personal than any of the other writings from this period (at least that I've read) by women, and there's an obvious development of style into a realistic/novelistic voice which is rather enjoyable. I have to say that I actually really enjoyed reading this - it was engaging, you felt for Michitsuna's Mother, and the intelligent allusiveness of the Diary made it intellectually satisfying. One reason this edition is so good is that while the translation is printed on the right page, the left page has the corresponding notes; this makes reading a lot smoother instead of having to constantly flip to the back of the book, and it really is essential to have notes. There is plenty of poetry included (Michitsuna's Mother apparently was a renowned poet in her own day), and if you don't have that explained, it's impossible to understand all the allusions and puns that arise from the original Japanese and that English can so poorly mimic.
This is a really wonderful piece of work, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it; I think it is a close rival to The Pillow Book for my favourite piece of writing from this period.
The Anansi Boys - Neil Gaiman
You know, the more I read of Gaiman, the more I think he's about visual creation, not verbal creation. I wanted to read this because of American Gods, and seeing how that played out, I was still curious enough to try. I don't think it was a bad idea, but I'm coming to think that while Good Omens had enough Pratchett in there to leaven the mix, and Stardust is a creature of its own, I'm not so sure I want to put much more effort into his writing projects.
See, the idea isn't bad - when his father dies, Fat Charlie learns both that his father was a god and he has a brother he didn't actually know about (well, we say brother, it's a bit like a starfish, but anyway). Through a bit too much alcohol, he invites his brother to come and see him, Spider arrives, and chaos rises from there. It's all a bit myth-y and Anansi-story-y and there's lots of references to that kind of African folk tale and the world of the islands (St. Andrew's being the island in question, where we find plot denouement). I'm kind of curious how this went down in terms of the cultural appropriation question, but I'm not going to chase that today; the point is that the world seems fully and sensitively realised, but there's still something fundamentally visual about the writing. Gaiman likes vignettes. He likes to catch moments. In Good Omens, that got balanced out by Pratchett's tendency to detail and note and fill out pictures with odd little extras, but in his own writing, it leads to a rather spare style.
It's not a bad book. In places it's quite good. But I never quite feel that the characters develop as much as they could, and I never quite get the depth that I want from my reading. And I think it's about time I realised that's not what Gaiman's strength is.
I give all the blurb for this one because it's rather important to have in order to find this edition, which is excellent. One reason I think it works so well is that the translation has been done by someone with some sensitivity to modern issues of translation, including the problem of the word 'kagerō', usually translated as 'gossamer' but not actually quite meaning that. We don't know the name of the author of the diary; she normally goes by the name of Michitsuna's Mother, as we do know the name of her son. She is also unusual in that her diary is that of a woman not involved in courtly life, unlike The Diary of Lady Murasaki or The Pillow Book. This is the diary of a woman who was the second wife of a member of one of the important Japanese political families; her diary mainly records the deterioration of her relationship with her husband over many years, and her personal emotions during that period.
There are three books of the diary. The first charts the beginning of their marriage, the courtship, her jealousy of his other women (although not his first wife; Japanese society at this point was polygynous); the second charts the breakdown in their relationship and her personal inner turmoil, best described by her deliberations over whether to withdraw from the world and become a nun, and how she is fetched back from a long stay at a temple by her husband with her son's assistance; and the third book moves into her son's development into adulthood, her choice to adopt as a daughter a girl who is her husband's child, and the arrangement of her marriage.
It's far more domestic and personal than any of the other writings from this period (at least that I've read) by women, and there's an obvious development of style into a realistic/novelistic voice which is rather enjoyable. I have to say that I actually really enjoyed reading this - it was engaging, you felt for Michitsuna's Mother, and the intelligent allusiveness of the Diary made it intellectually satisfying. One reason this edition is so good is that while the translation is printed on the right page, the left page has the corresponding notes; this makes reading a lot smoother instead of having to constantly flip to the back of the book, and it really is essential to have notes. There is plenty of poetry included (Michitsuna's Mother apparently was a renowned poet in her own day), and if you don't have that explained, it's impossible to understand all the allusions and puns that arise from the original Japanese and that English can so poorly mimic.
This is a really wonderful piece of work, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it; I think it is a close rival to The Pillow Book for my favourite piece of writing from this period.
The Anansi Boys - Neil Gaiman
You know, the more I read of Gaiman, the more I think he's about visual creation, not verbal creation. I wanted to read this because of American Gods, and seeing how that played out, I was still curious enough to try. I don't think it was a bad idea, but I'm coming to think that while Good Omens had enough Pratchett in there to leaven the mix, and Stardust is a creature of its own, I'm not so sure I want to put much more effort into his writing projects.
See, the idea isn't bad - when his father dies, Fat Charlie learns both that his father was a god and he has a brother he didn't actually know about (well, we say brother, it's a bit like a starfish, but anyway). Through a bit too much alcohol, he invites his brother to come and see him, Spider arrives, and chaos rises from there. It's all a bit myth-y and Anansi-story-y and there's lots of references to that kind of African folk tale and the world of the islands (St. Andrew's being the island in question, where we find plot denouement). I'm kind of curious how this went down in terms of the cultural appropriation question, but I'm not going to chase that today; the point is that the world seems fully and sensitively realised, but there's still something fundamentally visual about the writing. Gaiman likes vignettes. He likes to catch moments. In Good Omens, that got balanced out by Pratchett's tendency to detail and note and fill out pictures with odd little extras, but in his own writing, it leads to a rather spare style.
It's not a bad book. In places it's quite good. But I never quite feel that the characters develop as much as they could, and I never quite get the depth that I want from my reading. And I think it's about time I realised that's not what Gaiman's strength is.
