Only a Blockhead: January 2025

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January 2025

01/31/2025

January 31

There by the roadside

Early blossoms that belie

Winter’s freezing grip

Cold days, freezing nights

But see and smell the plum flowers

Harbingers of spring!

Posted at 11:03 AM in Japan | Permalink | Comments (0)

01/30/2025

January 30

Along a forgotten lane

Undisturbed

A thrush pokes through the leaf piles

...scratch PAUSE hop, scratch PAUSE...

In the wild kingdom

Vigilance is life and death

Posted at 02:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

01/29/2025

January 29

A lone white egret

surveys the placid Kano*

searching for breakfast

*Ah, Kano River

Flowing from Mount Amagi

to Suruga Bay

Posted at 09:21 AM in Japan | Permalink | Comments (0)

01/28/2025

January 28

A construction crew

Fills the neighborhood potholes

Local tax at work

Scattered from the tree

Small, sweet kinkan oranges

Local crows at work

Posted at 07:43 AM in Chigasaki, Japan | Permalink | Comments (0)

01/27/2025

January 27

Scarlet camellias

Brighten a small corner

Of dullest winter

Beauty and the beast

Camellias draw bulbuls

For a nectar feast

This week, celebrating nature.

Posted at 08:28 AM in Chigasaki, Japan | Permalink | Comments (0)

01/26/2025

Sunday, January 26

Monthly alchemy

Old newspapers tied, set out

…become toilet rolls!

Posted at 07:33 AM in Japan | Permalink | Comments (0)

01/25/2025

January 25

In the off season

The rice paddy scarecrows take

Wayside retirement

On country byways

Anatomical correctness

Ensures straw allure

Ancient profession

In service to human need

Rice paddy scarecrow

Posted at 07:13 AM in Japan | Permalink | Comments (0)

01/24/2025

January 24

In bitter winter

It points to warmer seasons

Bamboo dragonfly

Craftsman’s handiwork

Souvenir of long ago

Bringing pleasure still

New book notice (C.S. Lewis’s A Grief Observed): scroll down the right column to “Books Julian Read Recently.”

Posted at 08:13 AM in Japan | Permalink | Comments (0)

01/23/2025

January 23

Chill night; lying in

A hot, citrus-scented bath:

One kind of heaven

Posted at 10:15 AM in Japan | Permalink | Comments (0)

01/22/2025

January 22

Night as cold as ice

And the following morning

A frozen birdbath

After the sunrise

Frost melts off the power line

A trail to somewhere

Classic haikus:

frozen

in the birdbath

a leaf

--Jack Kerouac

Winter desolation:

In a world of one color

The sound of the wind

冬枯れや世は一色に風の音

(ふゆがれやよはひといろにかぜのおと)

(Fuyu-gare ya yo wa hito iro ni kaze no oto)

--Matsuo Basho (1644-1694), Translation: R.H.Blyth

Posted at 07:24 AM in Classic Haiku, Japan | Permalink | Comments (0)

Books David Finished in 2025

Aiken, Joan: The Wolves of Willoughby Chase
I don't usually read children's books. They're fine, of course, for their intended audience, but as their intended audience is children, and I'm not one, they're usually not for me. The Wolves of Willoughby Chase, however, is, by all accounts, a children's book, and I enjoyed it immensely. Apparently, Joan Aiken wrote it as a kind of parody of a Victorian gothic, but parody or not, it succeeds in most of the ways Victorian novels and gothic novels succeed. It's hard to imagine any child in our time being able to get through more than a page without having to ask mom or dad or Google what a word means. Current thinking seems to be that children and adults should not read, and could not possibly enjoy, anything that challenges them, but I think adventurous youngsters—and oldsters—will enjoy this.
Cherryh, C.J.: Explorer
The first sections of this novel were all conversation. I enjoyed that, and respected the author for taking this chance while writing science fiction, a genre one expects to be less talky. She doesn't stick with the all-talk format, though. There's lots of action in the back half of the novel, and Cherryh does that as well as she does conversation. The focus remains on intercultural communication: communication between humans who live on a planet populated by a non-human species, humans who live on a ship, that non-human species, and now, in Explorer, another non-human species. A potential crisis with that species is averted—these novels are as much about diplomacy as anything else—and I'm sure we will hear more from them in the many remaining novels in the series, a series I will certainly continue.
Connelly, Michael: Echo Park
I should have added this three or four books ago, but I forgot. This seems to me one of the best of the series so far. It's amazing that, with such an extended series, Connelly manages to keep it fresh.
Forster, E.M.: The Longest Journey
Forster's second novel is a bildungsroman, the story of Rickie Elliot from his time at Cambridge to his death while still a young man. As seems to often be the case with Forster, he mixes this story with ideas—indeed, the novel has been criticized for being too unrelentingly intellectual. I enjoyed it enough that I regret that I have yet to unearth any more Forster in my boxes. I'd like to read Maurice, the novel in which he deals with explicitly homosexual themes. Because it did deal with such themes he stipulated that it not be published until his death.
Forster, E.M.: Where Angels Fear to Tread
E.M. Forster's first novel is remarkably assured. There is an elegance to his prose, even in this early work, that is addictive. Equally impressive is how he is able to spin on a dime from comedy-of-manners to tragedy. Some of the stereotypes that surface in this account of Brits and their encounter with Italy—"Latin man," "Northern woman,"—seem a bit tired, but what Forster has to say about culture clashes remains perceptive.
Forster, E.M.: Howards End
This is a lovely mixture, part novel of manners and part novel of ideas.The prose is a delight: "Over all the sun was streaming, to all the birds were singing, to all the primroses were yellow, and the speedwell blue, and the country, however they interpreted her, was uttering her cry of 'now.'" I hope I can find more Forster in the boxes of books I've sent home.
Charles, K.J.: Death in the Spires
This one's for fans of Donna Tartt's The Secret History. There's a murder at an Oxford College that goes unsolved for ten years until one of the undergraduates who were friends of the victim decides to try to find out who did it. The characters are well-drawn, the plot is tight, though as with all the best novels of this type, the interest is not so much in who-done-it as in why was it done.
Hedayat, Sadegh: The Blind Owl
This is, by all accounts, the first modernist work written in Persian and the pinnacle of Persian literature. I know nothing about Persian literature, but I will assume that those claims are accurate. It is a compelling read: the hallucinations and tormented thoughts of a dying man. The most interesting thing about the novel is its form. First, it is a novel in two novellas which cover more or less the same events, one more realistic and less hallucinatory than the other. Second, there are constant repetitions, cyclic returns, that make the novel, in form, unlike any other that comes to mind. Apparently the work was not typical of Hedayat's work; this is not surprising. It seems like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of book.
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.

Books Julian Read Recently

Rachel Kushner: Creation Lake
Rambling, opaque ideas about the origins of humankind swamp a thriller about radicals vs. big business in impoverished rural France. On the plus side, the venal narrator is compelling, the short sections are highly readable, and there’s a great climax. (**)
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. (**)

Films Julian Watched Recently

All Of Us Strangers
In a new tower block with just two inhabitants so far, an isolated man looks back on his life and, through strange encounters, faces past traumas of family and growing up gay. Dreamlike, atmospheric, mesmerizing, bracing, it’s a gorgeous meditation on the redemptive power of love. A triumph of filmmaking and performances. (DVD) (*****)
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) (***)

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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