"Please. We know. These are hard times. The world hurts. We live in fear and forget to walk with hope. But hope has not forgotten you. So ask it to dinner. It's probably hungry and would appreciate the invitation."
- The Copenhagen Interpretation in Going Bovine by Libba Bray (page 428 of the hardcover)
Friday, October 30, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
ice cream of the gods
Today for no apparent reason, I am craving sweet chestnut soft serve ice cream, something I nearly missed a train for while visiting my sister in Japan. Even if I had missed the train, it would have been worth it. I thought nothing could beat sakura soft serve, but I was wrong. So, so wrong.
Have you ever craved something you ate once while traveling abroad and have little chance of obtaining?
Have you ever craved something you ate once while traveling abroad and have little chance of obtaining?
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Reading Tokyo Vice
And now for something completely different. Tokyo Vice: An American Reporter on the Police Beat in Japan
I'm reading Tokyo Vice by Jake Adelstein. If you're interested in Japan or investigative journalism or organized crime or those who fight it, you might want to check this one out. Adelstein is an American journalist who spent years in Japan reporting on crime. Needless to say, in an insular place like Japan, this opportunity is kind of rare.
The prelude section starts out with the yakuza threatening the author's life. I'm particularly proud of the fact that I realized this particular organization is the one based out of the capital city of the prefecture my sister taught English in while she was living in Japan. She didn't recommend visiting that area when we went to see her. (She didn't want us to become statistics, and there were plenty of other wonderful places to visit that weren't infested with yakuza.)
Knowing that the author survives gives the book its own kind of tension. Does he pursue this story mentioned in the prelude? How does he not get killed? What led him there? What led him to later combat human trafficking?
I've been interested in the topic of the justice system and the Japanese underworld pretty much since I read my first manga touching on it maybe six years ago. I am intrigued by the lens Adelstein provides the opportunity to look through, and I'm looking forward to the insights into culture, justice systems, and humanity I gain through the book. I just hope it doesn't get too gritty . . .
Do you know of any good nonfiction books about aspects of Japanese culture? Do recommend.
I'm reading Tokyo Vice by Jake Adelstein. If you're interested in Japan or investigative journalism or organized crime or those who fight it, you might want to check this one out. Adelstein is an American journalist who spent years in Japan reporting on crime. Needless to say, in an insular place like Japan, this opportunity is kind of rare.
The prelude section starts out with the yakuza threatening the author's life. I'm particularly proud of the fact that I realized this particular organization is the one based out of the capital city of the prefecture my sister taught English in while she was living in Japan. She didn't recommend visiting that area when we went to see her. (She didn't want us to become statistics, and there were plenty of other wonderful places to visit that weren't infested with yakuza.)
Knowing that the author survives gives the book its own kind of tension. Does he pursue this story mentioned in the prelude? How does he not get killed? What led him there? What led him to later combat human trafficking?
I've been interested in the topic of the justice system and the Japanese underworld pretty much since I read my first manga touching on it maybe six years ago. I am intrigued by the lens Adelstein provides the opportunity to look through, and I'm looking forward to the insights into culture, justice systems, and humanity I gain through the book. I just hope it doesn't get too gritty . . .
Do you know of any good nonfiction books about aspects of Japanese culture? Do recommend.
Monday, October 19, 2009
To kill or not to kill
I am being a big, huge coward right now. I am not only not writing a story I really want to write but am actively avoiding even thinking about it because someone in the story does something that is worthy only of death, and I just don't want him to die.
It's not that he doesn't deserve it, and it's not that I feel sorry for him. He's an adult who made his own choices, and he chose to betray everyone who loved him. I just feel bad for the people who must pass judgement on him. They are the ones most cruelly betrayed because they really love him. To ask them to condemn and execute him is really hard on me. (It's like that bit in Barrayar.) But coming up with any other outcome seems fake and forced and thoroughly unfair.
He doesn't want pardon; he wanted to betray everyone and then die. It's not that he hated them. He was mostly trying to get back at someone else entirely, but he had to go through them. He's consumed by bitterness. His revenge plot was thwarted (yes, I think he was relieved about that, but despair can warp you). You can't leave dynamite like that sitting around for so many reasons both general and specific. The only appropriate ending in this fantasy world is death.
But I still want pardon, somehow, or mercy or grace that isn't forced but flows organically from the plot, the story, the characters, the world.
I really need to just start writing and see what happens, but I'm afraid I know how this ends.
Have you ever read a book like that, where you start liking people and suspecting that things just won't end well, and you drag your feet reading it?
It's not that he doesn't deserve it, and it's not that I feel sorry for him. He's an adult who made his own choices, and he chose to betray everyone who loved him. I just feel bad for the people who must pass judgement on him. They are the ones most cruelly betrayed because they really love him. To ask them to condemn and execute him is really hard on me. (It's like that bit in Barrayar.) But coming up with any other outcome seems fake and forced and thoroughly unfair.
He doesn't want pardon; he wanted to betray everyone and then die. It's not that he hated them. He was mostly trying to get back at someone else entirely, but he had to go through them. He's consumed by bitterness. His revenge plot was thwarted (yes, I think he was relieved about that, but despair can warp you). You can't leave dynamite like that sitting around for so many reasons both general and specific. The only appropriate ending in this fantasy world is death.
But I still want pardon, somehow, or mercy or grace that isn't forced but flows organically from the plot, the story, the characters, the world.
I really need to just start writing and see what happens, but I'm afraid I know how this ends.
Have you ever read a book like that, where you start liking people and suspecting that things just won't end well, and you drag your feet reading it?
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Drama vs. Melodrama
What is the difference between drama and melodrama? Can you think of any good examples of both or either?
Friday, October 16, 2009
The bicycle graveyard in Oxford
For some reason yesterday, I thought of the bicycle graveyard. I think it was because I saw all the bike racks that look like poles with the London Underground symbol attached, which made me think of England and bikes and that short stretch of fence in Oxford where the street divides around a tiny catholic church and its tiny graveyard right before you get to Cornmarket Street.
For some reason, that fence was always adorned with bits of bicycles left behind when other bits of the bicycle were stolen. There were a lot of seats and front tires with attached bike chains clinging to that wrought-iron-y fence around the ancient graveyard. It was like a zombie movie, night of the living dead bicycles.
That area always seemed very chilly to me. Probably this was because the wonky intersection and the tall buildings around it blocked out the sun as I would walk through there in the morning. It could have had something to do with the Martyrs Memorial at my back as I walked south. There were a lot of trees in that graveyard, too, muffling what little light would have been left.
Often I would take the western branching of the road so as to avoid that oddly cold spot, but it was mostly because there was a patisserie on that side of the divide, and a fist-sized quiche Lorraine covered a multitude of hardships on a two mile early morning walk to class. Mmmmmm, quiche Lorraine.
I wouldn't always get a quiche because if I didn't leave early, the patisserie would be sold out by the time I got there, which would make me want to cry a little. It was tough to talk about Augustine and philosophy that was way over my head on an empty stomach after a late night trying to write smart 8-10 page papers every week. The quiche made it better. Or some real hot chocolate from that cart vendor just on the other side of the High Street.
No cream, thank you. It was like putting butter in your hot chocolate and left little oily bubbles covering the top of your chocolate as the skin formed so fast on the really cold mornings.
For some reason, that fence was always adorned with bits of bicycles left behind when other bits of the bicycle were stolen. There were a lot of seats and front tires with attached bike chains clinging to that wrought-iron-y fence around the ancient graveyard. It was like a zombie movie, night of the living dead bicycles.
That area always seemed very chilly to me. Probably this was because the wonky intersection and the tall buildings around it blocked out the sun as I would walk through there in the morning. It could have had something to do with the Martyrs Memorial at my back as I walked south. There were a lot of trees in that graveyard, too, muffling what little light would have been left.
Often I would take the western branching of the road so as to avoid that oddly cold spot, but it was mostly because there was a patisserie on that side of the divide, and a fist-sized quiche Lorraine covered a multitude of hardships on a two mile early morning walk to class. Mmmmmm, quiche Lorraine.
I wouldn't always get a quiche because if I didn't leave early, the patisserie would be sold out by the time I got there, which would make me want to cry a little. It was tough to talk about Augustine and philosophy that was way over my head on an empty stomach after a late night trying to write smart 8-10 page papers every week. The quiche made it better. Or some real hot chocolate from that cart vendor just on the other side of the High Street.
No cream, thank you. It was like putting butter in your hot chocolate and left little oily bubbles covering the top of your chocolate as the skin formed so fast on the really cold mornings.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Why the bad guys should win
I was watching a show recently where an antagonist challenged the protagonists by explaining to them why they would never win. He said that since he was a child, he never got into superheroes or hero shows because they seemed so fake. The good guys would always win just because they were the good guys when any logical person could see that the bad guys should have won. The bad guys, he said, can do anything while the good guys are constrained by morality and such. The bad guys should have won because they bad guys can do whatever they want.
I've had that cynical thought myself. Maybe it's the time and culture we live in, but it's often difficult to look around and see evil triumphing all over the place because it has no scruples and still believe in the simple hero triumphing because of his or her virtue.
Have you ever struggled with this strain of cynicism? What are your thoughts about it now? When you read stories that contain conflicts set in the current world, do you need this imbalance acknowledged, or can you get into the spirit of good triumphing over evil even if it doesn't make sense?
I've had that cynical thought myself. Maybe it's the time and culture we live in, but it's often difficult to look around and see evil triumphing all over the place because it has no scruples and still believe in the simple hero triumphing because of his or her virtue.
Have you ever struggled with this strain of cynicism? What are your thoughts about it now? When you read stories that contain conflicts set in the current world, do you need this imbalance acknowledged, or can you get into the spirit of good triumphing over evil even if it doesn't make sense?
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