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August 2010

08/31/2010

Cycling the Miura Peninsula

Hayama Port, Miura Peninsula
Hayama Port, Miura Peninsula


The other weekend, we took our bicycles to the Miura Peninsula and cycled along the coast in the hot sun. There were picturesque fishing ports and rocky cliffs. We stopped off at beaches for a swim and steaming bowls of salty ramen in beach house restaurants.

Backstreet bar in Misaki
Backstreet bar in Misaki

With its tuna catch in freefall, the fishing port of Misaki in the south is in economic decline. After a superb fish dinner, we visit a bar where we learn that Konan High School in Okinawa beat the local Kanagawa team to secure the 92nd Koshien High School Baseball Championship that afternoon. After the TV news, ageing stars sung popular songs from the Showa Era. When we left, we were still the only customers, just as we were at the portside ryokan where we spent the night. The breeze that blew through the open windows from across the water was cool, and later at night even cold belying the summer. Fishing boats puttered into the harbor in the middle of the night, and fishermen and women were hard at work before dawn.
Cape Arasaki, Miura Peninsula (Photos by M)
Cape Arasaki, Miura Peninsula (Photos by M)

The next day, we passed more picturesque ports and rocky shores, and stopped to swim at the beaches as we made our way up the coast and home.

--Julian

Posted at 01:21 PM | | Comments (0)

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08/30/2010

Real Americans

Some Americans are bigoted assholes.� Others are heroic.� Most, it seems, just don't want any trouble.

Real Americans?


—David

Posted at 11:11 AM | | Comments (0)

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08/27/2010

Haiku moment

Photo: Tom Check (Wikimedia Commons)
Photo: Tom Check (Wikimedia Commons)

Cycling home at night
The full moon floats in the river
A lone bullfrog croaks


                                                                                                        --Julian

Posted at 09:16 AM | | Comments (0)

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08/26/2010

Robinson in Japan

London/Robinson in Space
London/Robinson in Space

The Blockhead network has served me well.  NC Tate recommended London/Robinson in Space to Julian, who bought the DVDs, and then passed them on to me.  I am grateful.

They are tremendous films that, in choosing the essay as their guiding form rather than narrative, do something startlingly and wonderfully new.  I am reminded again of Sturgeon's Law: "Ninety percent of everything is crud."  I like to rag on cruddy movies, and occasionally make noises about being tired of the form in its entirety, but then I experience something like this, and see that, yes, the crud is out there, but it's silly to judge a form by its crud (and that, in any case, at least ninety percent of novels and music are also crud).  Rather, we should seek out the masterpieces. 

Another Robinson lover has suggested that Los Angeles Plays Itself is a masterpiece at the level of the Robinson films.  It is, like them,  essayistic, a film, that is, that tries to do something different.  I look forward to the DVD plunking into my mailbox, and also to the third of the Robinson films, which should be out soon.

Posted at 03:16 PM | | Comments (0)

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08/24/2010

Home


Dear Japan from Matthew Brown on Vimeo.

Where I Live
—David

Posted at 11:13 AM | | Comments (0)

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'On the Banks of the Thames, 2010'

On the Banks
On the Banks
- NC Tate

Posted at 07:31 AM | | Comments (0)

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08/23/2010

Gilbert and George

Gilbert and George
Gilbert and George
- NC Tate

Posted at 06:58 PM | | Comments (2)

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Friday

Friday
Friday
- NC Tate

Posted at 06:53 PM | | Comments (0)

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Prelude to a nice cup of tea on a hot summer's day


As I spoon tea leaves into the pot
a cool breeze through the kitchen window
brings me the aroma of the tea
and scatters the leaves on the counter

--Julian

Posted at 02:28 PM | | Comments (2)

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08/20/2010

Outlaw no more

The Stuff of Legends: Robin Hood Memorial in Nottingham, UK (Wikimedia Commons)
The Stuff of Legends: Robin Hood Memorial in Nottingham, UK (Wikimedia Commons)


A (straight) friend and I were talking about the slow but inevitable acceptance of gay marriage rights throughout the world. And in talking, I realized that legal gay marriage means a fundamental change in my status. Regardless of whether or not I join the club that would now have me as a member, I’m no longer an outlaw.

I grew up an outlaw, and grew used to my love relationships being beyond the pale of civil law. But it wasn’t all bad. Having outlaw status thrust upon you--having to make it up as you go along--encouraged independence and resilience. And truth be told, for it’s not for nothing that outlaws are the stuff of legends, being one was pretty cool.

And now, amazingly, for the first time in my life, with a twinge of nostalgia but no wish to return to the bad old days...

Outlaw no more.

--Julian

Posted at 11:28 PM | | Comments (0)

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Next »

Books David Finished in 2025

  • Hill, Susan: The Woman in Black
    The Woman in Black is a ghost story that is almost a pastiche of earlier gothic tales. This is a good thing because Victorian and Edwardian ghost stories really do stand head and shoulders above more recent attempts and, as such, provide models worth adopting. There is a nod to Henry James's The Turn of the Screw in the manner in which the story is framed and to the master M.R. James's stories not only in the title of one chapter but really, throughout. Though the unsettling events occur in a remote village, Hill doesn't seem to have quite M.R. James's obsession with the peasantry, among whom these foul old secrets reside, nor the racism of an H.P. Lovecraft who situated his horrors differently, and that is refreshing.
  • Winspear, Jacqueline: Maisie Dobbs
    This is a historical mystery that makes one rethink the dread with which one might approach a novel in that category. The lead character, Maisie Dobbs, who had been a nurse on the battlefields of World War I, is back in London and setting up as a detective. The author skillfully weaves together her WWI experiences with the investigation in which she becomes involved in postwar London. In doing so, she makes her narrative much more exciting than a standard first-this-happened-then-that-happened story. This inaugural outing was good enough that I will look for the next in the series.
  • Prokosch, Frederic: The Asiatics
    Orientalism at its best, The Asiatics is not a faithful depiction of Asia, and certainly not of Asians (or Asiatics, as I suppose Mr. Prokosch would have had it), but it is an excellent read. It's a picaresque account of a young American making his way through Asia from the Middle East to China, the people he meets, the things he experiences, the conversations he has, and the question he asks and gets asked: Are you happy? Thanks to Ted for reminding me of Prokosch who I hadn't read for years.
  • Ali, Ahmed: Twilight in Delhi
    This is an elegy for Delhi's Muslim society as it was from 1911-1919. Cities live, change, and die and are reborn. Perhaps they are at their sweetest just as they begin to decay and that is the period that Ahmed Ali captures in Twilight in Delhi. The novel is rich in poetry. One sees what an integral role poetry played at that time in that society—in the verses that are sung, quoted, and passing through the minds of the characters. In addition, Ali's prose is lush in the best possible way; his metaphors are apt and never intrusive. It is interesting to note that he had a hard time publishing this until E.M. Forster brought his influence to bear. The first edition was brought out by the Woolfs' Hogarth Press.
  • Connelly, Michael: The Closers
    Bosch is back on the force, and his first case involves white supremacists. The book was published twenty years ago, so it's not topical. Or maybe it is. Connelly and Bosch are at their best in this one, number eleven in the series.
  • Davis, Wade: Into the Silence: The Great War, Mallory, and the Conquest of Everest
    The subtitle should really be: The Conquest of Everest, Mallory, and the Great War. That, it seems to me, would reflect the content better. The account of the first three attempts to summit Mount Everest is gripping, and Mallory, of course, was central to each of those expeditions as well as being a veteran of the debacle that was World War I. Davis does not build a convincing case, though, that there is a substantial link between the War and the mountain the British hoped to summit except that those of the climbers who had survived the war "had seen so much of death that life mattered less than moments of being alive." This experience enabled them to persevere through beastly conditions (without the benefit of modern gear) and to continue even while their comrades—Mallory would be one of them—die (though they never quite viewed the Tibetans they employed, and who died in greater number than the "sahibs," as comrades). Near the end, Davis notes, "If achieving the summit of Everest had at one point been a symbol of imperial redemption, the record of seven unsuccessful attempts was a reminder of national impotence." Indeed.
  • Cherryh, C.J.: Defender
    This is the second book in the second trilogy of, I think, seven trilogies that chronicle intercultural relations between non-humans and humans. It is again refreshing to be reminded how far the colonize and conquer pattern that guided earlier science fiction authors has been left behind. I will, I am sure, return to this universe.
  • Allingham, Margery: Police at the Funeral
    The fourth entry in Allingham's series of novels featuring Albert Campion was a pleasant bit of fun right up until the end when it was revealed that the dark secret hovering over an English family was that their bloodline had been polluted with African blood. I, of course, use the word "polluted" ironically. There was not a hint that Allingham looked at it that way in 1931 when the novel was published. I probably will continue with the series, but I do hope she jettisons the racism.
  • Cherryh, C.J.: Precursor
    I like to read some science fiction every now and then. I especially like science fiction in which the science deployed draws on more than the technological side of things: rayguns, spaceships, and so on. That's why C.J. Cherryh's Foreigner books are so satisfying. The (soft) science at its root is anthropology, or maybe something like intercultural relations, but one would be hard-pressed to think of that as a science. The cultures in these novels (so far) are human (two strands of humanity whose cultures have diverged) and aliens called Ateva. When cultures interact, diplomacy is called for, and that's another pleasure of these novels. They follow a character called Bren who is one of the few humans fluent in the Ateva language and who, therefore, handles all the important negotiations between the Ateva and humans. So what we have is soft science fiction with an ample serving of behind-the-scenes diplomacy. I'm here for it.

Books Julian Read Recently

  • Hermann Hesse: Siddhartha
    A radiant account of a life searching for and finally finding mental peace. (***)
  • C. S. Lewis: A Grief Observed
    It’s bracing and helpful to read this account of the excruciating pain of the loss of a dearly loved one. However, it is mostly an attempt to find a place in the author’s Christian beliefs (a wise God; some sort of afterlife; a purpose to life, etc.) for the tragedy, and to revise and clarify those beliefs in the face of it. The brutal honesty and logic brought to bear on this task makes clear that, whatever benefits religion might have, it sure can add an awkward and sad complexity to life… and death. (***)
  • Elizabeth Strout: Tell Me Everything
    Elizabeth Strout again brings together the (mostly small town American) characters from her previous novels, but you don’t need to have read those to appreciate this. Here, post pandemic, Olive, Lucy, Bob and all are involved in a murder mystery, a bereavement, and a love story, but the everyday is every bit as absorbing. Strout’s world encompasses life, death, and what lies between: in a word humanity. (****)
  • Alice McDermott: Someone
    The daughter of a New York working-class family, growing up mid-century, recounts her life in shards of recollection. Razor-sharp observation and disarming honesty make this a pleasure. (****)
  • The Best of Saki: (selected by Tom Sharpe)
    What fun these very short stories are! The humor is pointed up by the gloriously overblown names of the protagonists in these miniature gems of character and situation in which (as Tom Sharpe, editor of the edition I read, puts it) “ingenious mischief… triumphs over pomposity.” The fun is in the twists: you never quite know how a story is going to get to its inevitably satisfying conclusion. And if it sometimes reflects the prejudices of its time (early 1900s), it’s an added pleasure to realize the (albeit still limited) social progress we’ve made since then, and to hope that our current fiction will feel as likewise antiquated in its prejudices and mores to future generations. (Thank you fellow Blockhead David for the recommendation.) (****)
  • Haruki Murakami: What I Talk About When I Talk About Running
    Reading this, I learned that some people who run, cycle or swim competitively have elations, satisfactions and frustrations at the cost of excruciating pain in the striving to beat themselves and others. I enjoy cycling enough to average 600 benign kilometers a month, but the training for marathons and triathlons that Murakami describes is another world, alien and too often horrific: leg cramps, inability to walk, lingering depressions…. Ouch, no thanks! How different we exercise-seeking humans can be from one another! (**)
  • Marjane Satrapi: Persepolis
    This powerfully illustrated graphic novel set in 1980s Iran is an account of growing up in a war-torn country, and, as a girl, under religious fundamentalism. And then, in a long coda, trying to navigate life in Europe as a young woman. The whole is devastating and moving. At the same time, it’s a truism that honesty unlocks hilarity, and there is rich humor to be found here in some of the darkest places. (***)
  • Alice McDermott: Absolution
    In this absorbing novel, the wife of a US engineer dispatched to Vietnam in the Kennedy/Diem early 1960s recalls expat life centering on various attempts at altruism. It is masterful storytelling with vivid characters, inviting us to make up our own minds about how cynical or otherwise is one character’s description of that altruism as “a disappearing generation’s efforts at inconsequential good.”. (****)
  • Anne Enright: The Wren, The Wren
    Why didn’t I get into this portrait of an Irish family/celebration of nature? The scattered structure: first person/third person? The dark places it sometimes went: self-harm; child abuse; animal abuse? Because it seemed the author was clearing a bunch of disparate good ideas out of her notebook? For this reader, in spite of its verve and sensitivity and surprise, it didn’t hang together or really go anyplace. (**)
  • Paul Lynch: Prophet Song
    I don’t note books I don’t finish, but here’s an exception: a finely written account of a family facing totalitarianism and war. It was relentless: I continued reading as a training in empathy, but it was finally too upsetting to continue. The horror is knowing the events of the story are being lived in Ukraine, Palestine and anywhere migrants are in flight.

Books Mark read recently

  • Scanlan, Kathryn: The Dominant Animal: Stories

    Scanlan, Kathryn: The Dominant Animal: Stories
    This is a book of super-short fiction. Of the 40 or so stories, most are less than two pages. Nothing in the writing here is beautiful or kind, but somehow I whizzed thought it all. Some stories leave out points that would have made them more accessible. What the heck happened? A lot of the stories end on a sudden whim of observation and leave one wanting to read more. Most of the stories focus on a negative experience with a male, with strange detail, and after finishing a story, I often wanted to take a hot shower to get clean. I did enjoy "Design for a Carpet" and "Mother's Teeth." (**)

  • Woodrell, Daniel: Woe to Live On: A Novel

    Woodrell, Daniel: Woe to Live On: A Novel
    Confederate soldiers on a journey to fight Yankees in Missouri and Kansas. Woodrell's voice in this novel is similar to Cormac McCarthy's. Lots of brutal killing and torture and the story seems to float along on southern dialog and an internal monologue of fear by the speaker. There are moments of occasional humanity, but for the most part the plot is a thin gruel of spilt blood, wandering, waiting, and revenge. (***)

  • Munro, Alice: Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage

    Munro, Alice: Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage
    There are three standout stories in this very fine collection by Alice Munro. She has a real knack for creating a variety of believable characters. The title story was my favorite: two teenagers pull a sour trick resulting in a surprising ending. In the story "Queenie" we see a young woman scrambling to make her way in the world, using a bad marriage as a way to make some progress. The final story, "The Bear Came Over the Mountain" veers off into occasional long-winded reflection, as one man struggles with the loss of his wife to Alzheimer's. Munro is a master story teller. (*****)

  • Waters, Sarah: Fingersmith

    Waters, Sarah: Fingersmith
    Sarah Waters: Fingersmith Such a good story: the get rich scheme of a handsome scoundrel twists and turns into... Two women in the story are quite duped into role playing. A lot of playful sex is talked about, but not much happens in the way of happiness or fulfillment. As always, Waters is right on target with the voices and the atmosphere in this London area thriller. (*****)

  • Barry, Sebastian: The Temporary Gentleman: A Novel

    Barry, Sebastian: The Temporary Gentleman: A Novel
    What a sad story. This novel takes place on the Gold Coast in Africa, where an Irish soldier/engineer recounts his life growing up near Galway and Sligo. Back and forth we go between Ireland and Africa. Like an unseen shadow, in Ireland, what slays the characters in this novel is alcohol. Back in Africa, the memories of the homeland, and the attempt at living again are equally daunting foes. Excellent story telling. (****)

  • Donna Tartt: The Little Friend

    Donna Tartt: The Little Friend
    Donna Tartt's second novel does not disappoint. The story of a young girl, Harriet, who seeks to revenge the death of her brother, Robin. The backdrop is a small town in Mississippi, and the goings on of 4 or 5 sisters, whose lives all changed with the murder of young Robin; hung from a tree. Harriet wants to solve the mystery. Who killed him? She gathers clues, and encounters the wrath of the local druggies. Quite a page-turner, and like Tartts' other two novels almost nothing is left out or glossed over. There were times in the novel where I felt her writing fell short; places where I couldn't actually see what was happening from the writing, as is the case when she encounters the villainous brother, Danny Ratliff on top of the water tower. The writing perspective seemed off (who was where and when?) as a battle ensued. But one is so caught up in the narrative we read on and on. Also, who is the little friend who is suggested in the title? Harriet? Hey? Robin? I don't think it is the best title she could have thought of for such a wonderful and awful story. (****)

  • Strout, Elizabeth: Olive, Again: A Novel

    Strout, Elizabeth: Olive, Again: A Novel
    A wonderful sequel to an earlier collection of stories, Olive Kitteridge. Clearly, Strout is a masterful writer; each of the characters in her stories I can see clearly in my mind. These stories span Olive's life from middle-age to old-age, with thoughtfulness, kindness, reflection, and regret. In a general way of summing up, this collection tells us that life sends us problems that are most times not of our own making-- and that we do our best with what we have to work with, and what we think is best to do at the time. The prevalence of loneliness that comes with old age is a dominant theme in the later stories here. Read this book. (*****)

  • Strout, Elizabeth: Olive Kitteridge

    Strout, Elizabeth: Olive Kitteridge
    It's been more than a few years since I first read this wonderful collection of stories. As a prelude to reading her next collection, Olive, Again, I read these stories again. Wonderful insight into a community in Crosby, Maine and how they encounter each other. Henry and Olive Kitteridge function as the main characters, and each story includes them if in even a small way. Prior to my second reading, my favorite story was The Piano Player, but this time I enjoyed Incoming Tide most. Her stories can veer into a local gossipy mode, yet there is always tension lurking in the next sentence. (*****)

  • Alan Hollinghurst: The Folding Star: A Novel

    Alan Hollinghurst: The Folding Star: A Novel
    Edward Manners goes to Belgium to teach English to two boys who are getting below average marks in high school. When not teaching, he helps out at a museum focused on a Jewish painter who was hidden from the Nazis during WWII. Manners falls in love with one of his students, and a lively adventure ensues as Manners undertakes to seduce him. The narrative is fun, at times cynical of gay life, and there is a lot of sex. One also learns a good deal of personal history of growing up in post-war England and Belgium. Hollinghurst is a brilliant writer, and I learned many new words. (*****)

  • Alison Moore: The Pre-War House and Other Stories

    Alison Moore: The Pre-War House and Other Stories
    After reading the Booker Prize nominated The Lighthouse, I was excited to read this earlier collection of 24 short stories from Alison Moore. They are a little underwhelming; as if written by a grad student. Moore is great at creating tension and awkward scenes. She is an artist when painting a picture of place and atmosphere. Some stories are creepy, and one longs for a hot bath. However, I found them to be a bit formulaic. By the third or fourth story, I was keeping my eyes open for the one clue in the narrative that I would return to in climactic ending sentences. I like Moor's sparse style, and I will read more of her work (written after The Lighthouse) in the future. (***)

Films Julian Watched Recently

  • The Zone of Interest
    The Holocaust from the oblique angle of its perpetrators who live bourgeois lives filled with all-too-familiar human concerns… over the wall from unspeakable horror. A movie grave, meticulous, reverent and highly original, the implication is, I think, how will future generations look at what we are doing, and not doing, in face of current horrors. What appalling realities am I ignoring over my wall? (DVD) (****)
  • La Chimera
    In an impoverished part of contemporary Italy, Etruscan tomb robbers search for artifacts to sell… or treasure. Sometimes odd but with few surprises, I was so uninvolved that I felt I lost two hours of my life. (DVD) (zero stars)
  • Justine Triet (director): Anatomy of a Fall (2023)
    Family friction, a mysterious death, a courtroom drama. These well-worn ingredients are presented with both assurance and breathtaking freshness. The result is cinema at its purest and most exciting. (*****)
  • The Great Escaper
    An aged veteran makes his way to a WWII remembrance ceremony in France, while his wife relives her own traumatic wartime on the home front. This modest film -- acted with commitment -- builds toward the suggestion that war is a tragic waste. Humanitarian propaganda of the best sort. Tissues mandatory. (Theater) (***)
  • d: Tran Anh Hung: The Taste of Things (2023)
    France, the late 1800s: food is prepared in a manor house kitchen to the level of art. It’s a look – awe-inspiring and sometimes amusing -- into the world of the gourmand, set in the context of a bracing love story. Just as cooking can’t be rushed, the movie takes its time, but -- in editing, camerawork, soundtrack, dialog, performances -- it mesmerizes. (DVD) (****)

Things NC Consumed Recently

  • F. Scott Fitzgerald: The Great Gatsby
    More than forty years on since my last reading, this classic novel is remarkable not so much for its romantic longings as for its emphasis on American violence, its depiction of a country in which California hardly matters and its meeting of the Mid West and East Coast. Plus its succinct nine chapters, its elegant prose and its almost noirish tone: Tom breaking Myrtle's nose would seem to foreshadow Lee Marvin throwing hot coffee in Gloria Grahame's face in The Big Heat - and the use of flashbacks helps too. I'd like to thank the publicity for the recent film version and my current cold for sending me back to the novel (and my young self).
  • Isabelle Eberhardt
    In 1904, Isabelle Eberhardt drowned in the desert, leaving behind, among other things, various writings in French (a novel, travel notes, a journal, short stories), Islam, Lake Geneva, a husband, debauchery in kif, sex and alcohol, and a small collection of male clothing, which she wore habitually, along with her man's name. The lazy say she was an early hippie, because of her nomadic, hedonistic life, and being the first one to die at 27. Lindqvist has her in a line from Villon, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Celine and Genet. Her story can only get stranger and more fascinating. "In The Shadow of Islam", "The Passionate Nomad", "The Oblivion Seekers" and Annette Kobak's biography are one way in. You'll find there an apt fatal romanticism for vast desert spaces and a depiction of Islam to ponder. Among other things.
  • Listen to Britain - Humphrey Jennings
    Terence Davies is surely right to say Listen to Britain is in part an attempt to define the nation on the eve of its being invaded. But that invasion never came. A little prematurely, Humphrey Jennings's film records what left later, with something messier, less defined usurping through the back door. Terence Davies is surely right to say Listen to Britain is one of the greatest things these islands have produced.
  • Patience (After Sebald)
    Grant Gee's documentary uses a palette of pale black and white, maps and talking heads to comment on W.G. Sebald's The Rings of Saturn, an account of his walk through Suffolk. Unlike the book, where a variety of genres (and photographs) coheres to make a recognisable whole, the film suffers slightly from a lack of direction. It is too specific to serve as an introduction and lacks an overriding arc that might describe a thesis. However, with its archival footage, interviews with the author and shots of the route taken, it is essential viewing for those already in thrall to all things Sebaldian - even if the ending, alas, veers close to Conan Doyle and fairies-in-the-garden territory.

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