Friday, June 24, 2011

"The Great Moon's Song" by Yoshio Toyoshima


"The Great Moon's Song" by Yoshio Toyoshima

Yoshio Toyoshima's "The Great Moon's Song" Part 4

[The final installment of a Japanese children's story from 1919 by noted translator/not-noted novelist Yoshio Toyoshima. Intro and Part 1 here, Part 2 here, and Part 3 here.]


The remains of the tree-less forest were like a graveyard. The stumps looked like gravestones and pagodas. The prince ran to the forest's center. He went to the clearing that still had a few trees left and stood there, relieved. He saw that there was no one there. "Princess Chigusa!" the prince called. There was no reply.

After a while, he heard a gentle voice near him.

"Prince!"

The prince was surprised, and when he lifted his head that until now had been hanging down, he saw Princess Chigusa standing there. The prince ran to hug her.

"You came here often for me. But now is the time to say our farewells," the princess said.

The prince, neither happy or sad, could not even move his mouth, but after a time, he had many things to say to her.

"Why must we say goodbye? Why didn't you come to get me? Why didn't you meet me, even when I came here on a night when the moon was out? Aren't you my mother? Tell me. Let me hear it. I won't leave your side. I won't go back to the castle!"

Princess Chigusa didn't say anything in response. Then she took the prince's hand, and sat him down on the lawn. "I am not your mother. But it's not a bad thing for me to seem like a mother either. For we are the elves of the earth who give birth to all. The only sad thing is that someday the land we call our home will someday disappear. We are not particularly bitter about this, but the way it's going now, unfortunately, you humans are going to be all alone soon."

Hearing these words, the prince became unbearably sad and lonely. For a long time the two were silent, lost in their unhappy thoughts. The moon was rising, little by little, until it was finally right above them.

At that moment, Princess Chigusa suddenly raised her head and looked at the moon. "The time has come for us to say goodbye. Please take this, to remember me by."

As she said this, Princess Chigusa took off the bracelets on her hands and gave them to the prince.

Just then, out of nowhere, a many colored bird came and flew around Princess Chigusa. The prince gazed surprisedly at this little bird.

"With this, we say farewell."

When the Prince heard this, he turned to look at the princess, but he could no longer see her. Instead standing there was a huge, black bird. In its beak were Princess Chigusa's bracelets, and its feathers were shaped like lilly petals.

Though the prince thought that this bird was bowing its head to him, it was already spreading its wings to fly away. The prince, with all his might, grabbed onto its tail, but the tail fell off, and the prince was left with just the tail in his hands. The other little bird stood there chirping sadly, because the wood elves were already becoming birds themselves, but the prince did not understand the meaning of its cries.

The prince stood there in a daze, when the Roger's leaf wearing wood elf suddenly appeared, who lead the Prince, holding the bracelets and the black bird's tail in his hands, back to the castle.

After, when the Bamboo Oak forest was completely cut down and turned to fields, the land around the castle became a fine town. However, for some reason, the moon was always cloudy, every single night. Then, amongst the children of the town came the following song:
In the Great Moon
Lives a Tailless Bird
With Gold Bracelets in its Mouth
Oh, Oh, It's Falling!
Oh, Oh, Look Out!

And because the light of the moon never came out, the crops in the fields of the kingdom would not grow. For dew and moonlight are important for plants to grow tall. The kingdom became poor, and the people were in despair. Because of it, the king grew extremely troubled, and handed his crown over to the prince.

The prince planted trees in the remains of the Bamboo Oak Forest and made a small new forest, and inside it built a shrine, where he enshrined the Princess Chigusa's bracelets and the bird's tail. Then, suddenly, the moon cleared up, the crops ripened, and the people of the kingdom were overjoyed. Then, on nights with a full moon, the castle gates were opened and the townspeople were invited to attend a moon-gazing party.

Even now the shrine and forest remain, and in that forest live many different colored birds. This is a story told by the old woman who sells food for the birds in front of the shrine. When the old woman tells this story, she always finishes by singing, in a quiet voice, "The Great Moon's Song."

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Yoshio Toyoshima's "The Great Moon's Song" Part 3

[Part 3 of 4 in an ongoing translation of a Japanese children's story first published in 1919 by Yoshio Toyoshima. You can read an intro and part one here, and part two here.]


So the prince continued to go to the garden on moon-lit nights to wait for the wood elf. But the wood elf never came for him. The prince gazed sadly at the castle back gates. Those iron gates were shut so tight, there was no way the prince could open them in the evenings.

After turning it over in his mind many times, the prince discussed with his nanny, an old woman, on how she could help him go to the Bamboo Oak forest. The old woman pitied the prince, and then they came up with a good idea.

One day, while the king was strolling in the gardens, the prince and the old woman went out to meet him,  and the old woman said to the king:

"This garden is beautiful on moonlit nights, but it is much too lonesome by oneself. Just once we should open the castle gates and let the townspeople come in, to dance and have fun while we do some moon gazing."

And the prince piped in and added:

"That would be so much fun. Father, can't we do it please?"

And because the two encouraged it so much, the king finally acquiesced. Immediately, he told his retainers to begin the preparations.

It was a big commotion that night. The king took to his stage, and held a banquet with a huge number of his servants. From front to back the castle gates were opened, and almost all the townspeople came. Everyone dressed up, and danced in the castle gardens, and played many songs. The moon shone in the clear night sky. Not even torches were allowed to to be lit. It was like the people of the castle surged with moonlight and music and dance and delicious smells.

The prince, with his nanny, quietly escaped from the back gates. Then, the old woman waited at the entrance to the Bamboo Oak forest, and the prince entered the forest alone.

However, when he reached the same clearing as always, there was no one there.

Along the sides of the clearing, moonlight silently trickled through the top of the tall trees. The bustling commotion from the castle resounded weakly from far away.

The prince waited a long time. Tears accumulating in his eyes, he called out "Princess Chigusa, it's me!" But he did not catch a glimpse of either the princess or the wood elves.

Finally, wiping away his tears, the prince gave up and returned to the castle. Even though the old woman who waited for him at the entrance asked him many questions, the prince, looking sad, completely ignored her.

The prince thought to himself: Why didn't Princess Chigusa come out for him? What did she mean when she said that something sad was going to happen? He felt like the princess was his dead mother, but was that really so? Why didn't she tell him anything?

Eventually, something sad did happen. The rich people of the castle wanted to chop down the Bamboo Oak Forest trees to turn them into lumber, and in the remains of the forest start new fields for crops. The people around the castle were multiplying, and they needed lots of wood for new houses, and more land to grow wheat, rice, and other grains. There was no one to oppose them, and the king granted the rich peoples' requests to cut down the forest.

When the prince heard this he was shocked, and begged the king to stop, but he had already permitted it, and he would not grant the prince's wishes.

The prince was devastated, and locked himself in his room everyday. But while he did that, little by little, day by day, the bamboo oak forest was disappearing.

The only strange thing was, every time one of the large trees of the forest was cut down, many voices could be heard from all around.  ———bird, bird, red ———bird, bird, blue ——— bird, bird, violet ——— bird, bird, green ———bird, bird, white———And each time, one by one, white and blue and violet and white and black and yellow and many other colored birds flew from the trees. The prince stood at the edge of the forest, gazing sadly at the birds flying away.

However, the lumberjacks could not hear those voices at all, and didn't suspect much of anything when they saw the many birds fly away. The trees of the forest were rapidly disappearing.

When the trees started disappearing closer and closer to the clearing inside the forest, the prince could no longer just stare at what was going on. That night, the light from the full moon shined beautifully.

The prince, all alone, creeped away to the back gates of the castle, but the gates were shut tight. The prince, with tears of frustration flowing down his cheeks, resolved to spend the whole night there, until someone opened the gate for him.

But then, strangely, the gate opened all by itself. The prince, feeling like he was in a dream, escaped from the castle and ran off.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Yoshio Toyoshima's "The Great Moon's Song" Part 2

[Part 2 of 4 in an ongoing translation of a Japanese fairy tale from 1919. You can read Part 1, and a brief intro to the author, here.]

After that night, on evenings when the moon shone bright, the Prince would go to the Bamboo Oak Forest and play with the wood elves. In addition, he learned many things from Princess Chigusa. Like how the wood elves originally lived in the fields, but the fields were opened up and turned into rice paddies, and so the elves hid themselves in the forests, and became wood elves. And that Princess Chigusa is the queen of both the new wood elves and the original wood elves. And how the Princess knew all about how the old fields were going to become rice paddies beforehand, and how there was going to be a draft this coming summer, and floods in the fall. When the prince heard these things, he told each one to his father the king. The king would laugh, but because the prince pressed him so many times, in the end, he set up some precautions as a test.

And even though there was indeed a drought that summer, they took water down from the springs in the mountains, and the farmers were not affected at all. And even though there were floods at the beginning of autumn, they built high embankments along the river, and the rice paddies were left unharmed. Because each of the prince's pronouncements were correct, the king, and then all the people of the palace, were completely astonished. Before long, word spread throughout the kingdom how "the prince had been transformed into a god." They asked how the prince how he knew these things before they happened, but because the prince was sworn to a strict secrecy by Princess Chigusa, he said nothing. Eventually even the king began to wonder if his son had become a god. 

But to the prince, there was only one thing to start thinking about. And that was the fact that the moon didn't come out every night. If the moon didn't shine at night, the princess would not send for the prince. 

When the moon did shine in the early hours of the night, the wood elf who wore a Roger's leaf would come to the palace gardens. The prince would go to Princess Chigusa, and a little before 10 o'clock when the palace gates closed, the prince would return home.

However, one night, when the prince had gone to the clearing in the Bamboo Oak Forest like usual, Princess Chigusa stood there looking terribly sad. Not one of the wood elves appeared that night. With a wildly beating heart, the prince asked the princess:

"Did something happen tonight?"

"Something sad is going to occur very soon," Princess Chigusa replied. The prince asked many things, but the princess would not say anything more. She only replied, "Soon you will understand."

The prince and princess sat silently in the clearing. The moonlight spread over the ground, making the grass and flower petals and leaves sparkle. Finally, Princess Chigusa sighed deeply and said:

"I don't know if we shall meet again."

Hearing this, the Prince became terribly sad. 

"It's time, it's time, the palace is now closing!" a voice called from behind them. 

He saw that the Roger's leaf wearing wood elf was standing behind him. Even so, the prince did not start going home. But the princess comforted him, and made him go home. 

The prince couldn't understand why he couldn't see Princess Chigusa anymore. He suddenly wondered if Princess Chigusa was perhaps his long-long mother after all. But when he turned around to ask her, Princess Chigusa was no longer there. 

Standing in the palace gardens, the prince was resolved: he had to meet with Princess Chigusa again.

New Review: Banana Yoshimoto's "The Lake"

Yes indeed, as it was prophesied just last week, I have another review on Three Percent, the blog run by Open Letter Books, for the beautiful novel The Lake by Banana Yoshimoto and translated by Michael Emmerich. 

As for future reviews, I am very excited about the next review I'll be doing for Three Percent, but I'm going to keep it to myself until further notice.

Stay tuned for the next installment of "The Great Moon's Song," which will be up before too long.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Yoshio Toyoshima's "The Great Moon's Song," Part 1

I'm always looking for ways to practice reading Japanese. The thing is, all writers write in a certain way, and I don't want to be stuck reading Japanese in a certain way, and consequently understanding Japanese in a certain way (at least, this is my fear).  The vast majority of the raw Japanese that I read is Murakami and Genichiro Takahashi, and so lately I've been looking at new sources to practice Japanese and expand my Japanese reading skills. I especially feel that I need to practice reading non-contemporary Japanese. Even in English, I want to get better acquainted with the modern Japanese literary masters, who I am not as familiar with as I would like.

Which is why Aozora Bunko is awesome.  It's the Project Gutenberg of Japan, i.e., free e-versions of public domain literature.

I found the following story by accident. Literally—I was using the more iPhone friendly version of the Aozora Bunko site, searched おつ randomly, and started reading お月様の唄, which I am going to share with you in a quickie translation over the next few days, cause it's a very cute little fairy tale.

The author of this tale is Yoshio Toyoshima, who, Wikipedia (kind of sadly) notes, was not famous at all for his novels, but did have great acclaim as a translator. He was born in 1890, and died in 1955. He was a novelist, translator, French literary scholar, and children's book author. He was professor emeritus at Hosei University and also taught at Meiji University. He had his literary debut as a college student, published in the third issue of Shinchishou alongside the great Akutagawa and Kikuchi Kan. He is most famous for his translations of Les Miserables and Jean-Christophe, which were bestsellers.

Anyway, without further ado, here is part one of  お月様の唄, which I am (tentatively) calling "The Great Moon's Song." You can read the original, if you like, here.

---------------

"The Great Moon's Song"

In the Great Moon
Lives a Tailless Bird
With Gold Rings in its Mouth
Oh, Oh, It's Falling!
Oh, Oh, Look Out!


Once upon a time, when the forests were still teeming with small, cute wood elves, there was a prince of a certain kingdom, who was raised with much love, as he was the only child of the king. The prince was extremely kind, and had a great and compassionate heart. 

Ever since the prince was small, for some reason, he loved above all to look at the moon. He often climbed the towers of the castle, or entered the expansive gardens to watch the moon until late at night. When he looked at the moon, he felt like he was looking at his mother who had passed away. The prince's mother died when he was three years old, and so he could not remember her face. But no matter how much he thought about it, it always seemed to him that his mother had ascended to the moon. Because of this, when he looked at the moon, he would think about his mother. 

One night, when the prince was eight years old, like always, he went out to the garden  to look at the moon by himself, when, a man, only twelve inches tall and wearing a Roger's flower on his head, suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Then, just as suddenly, he bowed his head to the prince.

The prince was surprised, for he had never seen nor heard of such a tiny man before. However, the prince, the lovely boy with a gentle heart, also had great courage, for he would someday be the king. And so, in a calm voice, he asked the one foot-monk:

"Who are you?"

The one foot monk replied, in a sing-song voice:

"A wood elf I am! A wood elf from the forest behind the castle!"

The prince smiled and asked:

"Why have you come?"

"To bring greetings to the prince," the one-foot monk replied. "I am a messenger of Princess Chigusa, and I need you to come with me, if ya' please!"


Having said this, the wood elf turned around and started walking away. The prince was delighted, and followed after him. When they reached the back gate, it opened immediately, and when the prince and wood elf passed through to the other side, it was closed again, just like before, without a sound.

Directly behind the castle was a large forest called "The Bamboo Oak Forest." The wood elf went directly into the forest, and the prince too followed after him silently. However, when they arrived at the center of the forest, he suddenly could no longer see the wood elf. Surprised, the prince looked all around, and saw before him a wide clearing, with a lush green lawn, with many different flowers blooming in the middle. In the center of the clearing stood a woman, wearing a silk robe of red and yellow and white, and a crown made of lily flowers. She looked at the prince and smiled, and beckoned him closer. Seeing this, the prince felt somehow like he was looking at his long lost mother, and fearlessly approached her.

"My, you found us easily!" the woman said. "I am Chigusa, queen of this forest. Now let us watch some entertainment."


Then Princess Chigusa raised her voice and said:


"Come out everyone, and dance for the prince's entertainment!"


Whereupon, from out of nowhere, the wood elf from earlier appeared above the clearing, wearing a single rose on his head. Then, spinning round and round, he sang this song:


Oneee one
Spin round and come out!

And a wood elf wearing a chrysanthemum appeared. The two danced and sang once more:

Twooo two
Spinny-spin round and come out!

And a wood elf wearing a peony appeared.

Threee three
Round and spin and come out!

And a wood elf wearing a plum blossom appeared.

Fourrr four
Round and round and round and come out!

And a wood elf wearing a cherry blossom appeared.

Fiveee five
Everyone together burst forth!
To entertain the prince
Here and there and everywhere
Go round and round and round and round and round!

Then the clearing before him became full of wood elves, each one wearing a grass or tree flower on their heads. Then, linking hands, they formed a circle and sang a riveting song and danced a riveting dance.

The prince watched all this and felt like he was in a dream. The wood elves' dance continued on for an eternity. It was an amazing dance that he never grew tired of, no matter how long it continued. 

"It's time, it's time! The palace is now closing!" a voice from far away suddenly called out. The wood elves who had had been dancing up this point looked like they all jumped high in the air, but when they fell back to the earth they had disappeared. 

The prince was surprised, and looked all around, while Princess Chigusa stood smiling. Then she said to the prince:


"It is late now, so that shall be all for tonight. We will come with greetings again, so please come back at that time."

The prince wanted to stay longer, but because of what the Princess said, there was nothing to do but go home. Before he knew it, the wood elf wearing a Roger's flower appeared, and he lead the prince back to the castle gardens. 



Friday, June 17, 2011

New Review: Mu Xin's "An Empty Room: Stories"

I have a new review up at Open Letter Books' Three Percent blog. It's for Chinese writer Mu Xin's collection An Empty Room: Stories.

I loved the collection, and I hope to read more of Xin in the future.

It's hilarious to me that it was posted today, after I just talked about how a review for it was coming soon in the Recently Read Round-up post that I finished writing about 45 minutes ago. So if you didn't get a chance to read that yet, just scroll down for thoughts on some other books I've read (though they are not as in-depth or likely eloquent as the review at Three Percent...).


Recently Read Round-up

I have a lot of free time at the moment. I'm job hunting. It's pretty stressful, and I'm generally an anxious person about these kinds of things anyway. So I've been doing a lot of reading to pass the time and get my mind off things. When I first started doing this blog I did a Recently Read Round-up, and I liked it, so I'm going to do it again. I love sharing books, and I love recommendations as well. You'll see below that I didn't love all the following books, but I'm going to write about them anyway.

Incidentally, another reason I'm doing the Recently Read Round-up posts is because it's very easy to keep track of what I read because I now use Goodreads to catalog my reading exploits. If you're a list-maker or compulsive-grader of things you experience like I am, you might like it too. And if you want to follow me, I'll probably follow you too. Like I said, I love recommendations.

I'm going to start with what I wrote on the Goodreads site, and follow it up with any feelings I've had after digesting it a little bit, since I write my reviews almost immediately after I finish reading it.


The Lake, Banana Yoshimoto
Translated by Michael Emmerich
Goodreads score: 4 out of 5 stars
 I wrote:
 
It's been some time since I finished a whole book in one day (and just two sittings).

One of the big mysteries of the book is revealed on the back cover (like the first sentence) so avoid reading the description. Seriously you're not supposed to know til almost the very end.

I can see why they did it - it's not quite the most central aspect of the book, though I'd argue it is somewhat important and would've been fascinating to have the reveal unspoiled.

Still, a very sweet, powerful story about being on the cusp of growing up and loving someone in spite of their (sometimes very heavy) baggage. Yoshimoto has a great, uncomplicated, direct style that is anything but "simple."


I still feel generally positive about this book, though I get the sense, after reading around a bit, that this is BY's sort of go-to plot template - people in transition and/or tragedy, so maybe I'd feel differently if I had a better understanding of the rest of her work. Still, it really is a very pleasant read, and I should be having an official review for it on the Three Percent blog in the next few weeks (I submitted it, but I got to wait my turn in the queue.)


An Empty Room: Stories, Mu Xin
Translated by Toming Jun Liu

Goodreads score: 4 (4.5) out of 5 stars
I wrote:


Wish there were half stars - I'd be tempted to give it 4.5 out of 5. Some really mesmerizing stuff here! Beautiful - particularly at it's best when dealing with melancholy memories etc. It's a collection of stories that don't always feel like stories - some are hard to think of as anything but a straight up retelling of a personal anecdote, and some that feel like an essay that doesn't really have a structure - a topic that meanders and digresses in a more or less agreeable way. I guess this comes from the Chinese literary form sanwen, which is deliberately a mix of fiction, memory, essay, prose, and poetry, according to the translator's afterword. Similar to the Japanese "I"-novel, perhaps, but in a much more abridged form.

In general skillfully translated, though the tone occasionally verges on the pompous (which might not be the fault of the translator, really). The one exception is "Quiet Afternoon Tea", which does not read well at all and is especially awkward in the characters' speech - all of which is (kind of) ironic, since it's one of the only story that ostensibly takes place in England with only British characters speaking in English. Maybe it was translated separately, first, a long time ago with little editing?

More to say in the future in a proper book review on Three Percent.


Like I wrote, another official review coming soon. These stories really are excellent, but I have some (read: a lot of complicated) things to say about the translation that is going to warrant it's own post when the review comes up. 

The Jokers, Albert Cossery
Translated by Anna Moschovakis 

 Goodreads Score: 4 out of 5 stars
 I wrote:

Amusing, breezy, almost absurdist tale. Charming and humorous, political in its anti-political way, it felt like a sort of mix between Martin Amis "How I Became Stupid" and Ilf and Petrov's "The Golden Calf". Particularly great ending.

This book was written in the Sixties by a French born, Egypt living writer, but it is still surprisingly resonant in today's American political climate - especially when thinking about the Bush era. Thought-provoking but not dense, and not a shrill screed - a perfect (and fun) combo.
 


It is a little thin, admittedly; I think that is it's one flaw. But it's about guys pranking a public figure. It's pretty great. 

I Have the Right to Destroy Myself, Young-ha Kim
Translated by Chi-Young Kim
 Goodreads score: 3 (2.5) out of 5 stars
I wrote:


Maybe 2.5 stars. I realized that the only part of the story I really didn't like was part 2 - I found C and K and Judith to be such annoying characters. The narrator was fascinating- I wish the story was more about him. C at least got a little more interesting when we find about his art, but K never gets developed. I just didn't care about their love triangle at all. It's not that I don't like dark books, but books like this or Hotel Iris don't move me when the characters are so underdeveloped- I don't feel their pain, and their depressions and nihilistic attitudes just seem weak and like "Oh woe is me" narcissism. Just seems like a cheap way to pile on tragedy. Not willing to write off Kim yet though- his other book seems interesting and I might yet check it out.

A lot of this book felt like a bad version of Murakami. Like taking some of Murakami's distinctive elements, ramping them up, and then messing up all the proportions into something inferior. The aloof protagonists become cooler-than-thou pricks, the Western culture name-dropping becomes snobby, the sex becomes dirty and overly gritty... I don't know, this just wasn't for me. 

The Universal Baseball Association, Inc., J. Henry Waugh, Prop., Robert Coover

 Goodreads score: 3 out of 5 stars
I wrote: 

  Some interesting stuff here, but your enjoyment does depend how much you enjoy reading about baseball games. Henry's an interesting character, and the last chapter adds a surprising layer to the rest of the work. But although I liked in general I was not inspired to pick it up and read it, so it took me a while to finish it. 

Honestly, I read this because I read somewhere that Genichiro Takahashi's 優雅で感傷的な日本野球 was similar to this book. From what I read, it's not, really, except that it is kind of post-modern and has to do with baseball. It's about a guy who develops this table-top dice baseball game, that gets more and more complicated and takes over more and more of this guy Henry's life. It's very interesting, but if you don't at least enjoy baseball on some level, it'll be hard to read, since it gets very detailed in the goings on of each game. 

Oblivion: Stories, David Foster Wallace

Goodreads score: 5 out of 5 stars
 I wrote:

I think I loved every story but one, although that one story I was rather lukewarm to. But there's so much craft and intelligence and wit and raw emotion...Reading Wallace can occasionally be taxing, but worth it. He was truly a genius, in my opinion. Running out of short stories though...going to have to plunge into the almost bottomless pit that is that behemoth Infinite Jest soon. 

Seriously you guys, David Foster Wallace is a genius. You have to give him a try if you haven't yet—at the very least a short story collection (even those can get long, but certainly less of a commitment than Infinite Jest).  After Murakami, DFW is probably my favorite author.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

The 2011 Kenzaburo Oe Prize - 俺俺

Anyone with a passing interest in Japanese literature probably knows who Kenzaburo Oe is, if only by virtue of being one of only two Japanese to win the Nobel Prize for Literature back in 1994. That doesn't mean you've read him of course; for instance, I only got around to reading him about two years ago. If you haven't, A Personal Matter is quite good, as is The Changeling. The Silent Cry is another book that is cited among his best, though I haven't read that one yet.

Oe is an intensely personal, intensely intellectual, intensely political writer. He's a big issues kind of writer, even when the plot points seem to echo exactly events in his own life. So it's not surprising that the Academy was drawn to Oe as a candidate for the Nobel Prize, since, coincidentally or not, many of the winners are deeply political writers or individuals. So it's also not surprising that in Japan, he has a literary award in his honor. I mean, how much more internationally renowned can you get as a non-English writing author than winning the Nobel Prize?

I found out about the Kenzaburo Oe Award when I was exploring Gunzo a few months ago, since they made the announcement for the 2011 winner in their May issue. (Gunzo reporting it because both Gunzo and the award are run/sponsored by Kodansha.) It was established in honor of both the 100th anniversary of Kodansha being a company and the 50th "writing anniversary" of Kenzaburo Oe (which by the way, how much more perfect could that timing have been??).

Oe alone chooses the winner—the best novel of the past year.

The Kenzaburo Oe Prize winner is supposed to represent the best of the young generation's "literary intellectuals." It has no cash prize, but the work is to be translated into foreign languages for international publication. In the five years this prize has been acted, I don't think a single work has hit American or British bookshelves. Which I suppose isn't too surprising. I don't know the details about who gets to translates it or when or how, but even if it does get translated, I'm sure very few American publishers want to publish heady, "intellectual" novels from Japan.  Just manga, sci-fi/fantasy/light novels, Murakami, and crime fiction please!

Partially inspired by Hopeful in Nagoya's recent diving into of Japanese book reviewing, I decided to try and learn more about this latest winner of the Kenzaburo Oe Prize.



The work is called 俺俺 by 星野智幸, or, Ore Ore by Tomoyuki Hoshino. This title would be hard to translate - it's a repetition of the word "I" or "me," used by dominant, confident, or familiar males, but the title refers to おれおれ詐欺, which is the term for a kind of phone scam. Basically, the perp calls an elderly person and pretends that they are their son or grandson, in order to get them to transfer them money from their bank accounts—basically, they say "Hey, it's me!" and trick their victims into thinking they're family.

Which is the basic premise of this story—a guy, only referred to as 俺, or I, goes to a McDonald's, steals his neighbor's cell phone, and commits a phone scam on this strangers' parents.  But it gets stranger. According to the summary on Amazon Japan:


When I took the cell phone of the guy sitting next to me at McDonalds, I ended up committing a phone scam. But then I noticed that I was becoming a different I. The I for my bosses and parents, the I who isn't I, the I who is not I, the we that is I-I [literally: the 俺たち俺俺] So many I's that I don't know what is what anymore. Power off, off. Destroy. Before long, my fellow I's, going this way and that, increasing without end, until… A work that makes the reader ask: What is it, to trust another man, in this age of loneliness and despair?

Weird huh? But vague. So I took a look at the book review from the Asahi newspaper. It begins by repeating the basics of the Amazon summary: "I" goes to a McDonald's, on a whim steals a stranger's cell phone, and tricks the stranger's mother into thinking he was her son, and commits bank transfer fraud. Before he knows it, he starts to became that guy. And gradually, he begins to multiply into other "I"s.

The narrator "I" works at a large electronics store called "Megaton." (Kind of like a Best Buy I assume, perhaps in Akihabara).  He seems to feel alienated by his job—even if he took over someone else's duties within the store, his day-to-day affairs wouldn't change. He believes his very existence is "weak", and easily replaceable by someone else. His boss is a mean person "incapable of being understood". The pressure to conform, to not stick out for fear of being made fun of, is overwhelming, and he and his fellow coworkers can barely get by working there. His sense of fitting in at work gets worse and worse, until he organizes a community (perhaps a literal place, like a commune) of "I"s, calling themselves (or the place) "I-Mountain" (俺山):


"At "I Mountain", everyone is I… "I Mountain" is a society without conflict with others. All the hearts of the "I"s are connected" - a transparent community where everyone can be understood. In a place like that, I, as a meaningful existence, is coming to an end. I am becoming no more than a part of a larger self, and the I's always living for each other. That experience is what sustains me."

Suffice it to say that as "I Mountain" starts to get larger, some major problems ensue.

The reviewer starts his/her review simply by calling it a "masterpiece" (傑作). The reviewer says the end took them completely be surprise, and even brought them to tears. The reviewer calls it a "monumental work" of contemporary literature, addressing the problems of identity in modern society.

Although the review seems almost a bit hyperbolic, 「俺俺」 sounds complicated, but awesome. In a strange way, it sort of reminds me of Fight Club, probably due to the weird nameless commune aspects, but it sounds like a fascinating work, one whose message would resonate beyond just Japan but throughout the world. When I have some extra cash I might try to pick it up sometime (it can be ordered from the Kinokuniya website if you live in the US). It's also probably worth checking out the other winners of the Kenzaburo Oe Prize, which you can find a list of, in English, on the Prize's Wikipedia page.


Thursday, June 9, 2011

More on Japanese Literary Journals

A couple months ago I was really getting into the literary journal scene in Japan. It was really only because I got my hands on some recent issues of Bungakukai, but I started looking into Gunzo as well. I did some research, and if you want to stay afloat on the Japanese literary scene but not in Japan yourself, here are some possible means to do so.

 I found out you can order Bungakukai through Amazon, which is pretty freaking awesome. The only problem is that it costs $224 for a year's subscription, or twelve issues. A little over 18 bucks an issue, which is not an impossible price (though certainly out of my price range right now), and it is a lot of content—roughly 3600 pages of fiction, poetry, author interviews, and essays. 


Even better (though for not nearly as much content) is that I found out that Gunzo has an iPhone/iTouch/iPad "preview" app. It's a best of collection, that includes whole short stories, the first chapters in serialized novels and essays (including one about Murakami in America), poetry, and best of all, it's completely free. Obviously this is only useful for those with an iWhatever, but, it's kind of cool to offer it all for free. 


Gunzo and Bungakukai are also on Twitter, where they often announce who is going to be what issue, who has won their big prizes, and retweets people's (favorable) responses to whatever they just published. 

It goes without saying that all of these are only useful if you can read Japanese...


[In the next post, I'm going to look at a literary award (and one of it's recipients) that hasn't been mentioned in English yet because it is fairly new and none of the pieces have been translated yet into English - The Kenzaburo Oe Prize.]

Thursday, June 2, 2011

"K"


"K" by Haruki Murakami

K… the 11th letter of the alphabet.

(Example: One morning, K woke up to find he had transformed into a doormat.)


One morning, K woke up to find he had transformed into a doormat.

"Well that's just great," K thought to himself. "Of all things, a doormat!"

The first person to find K the doormat was a friend who worked for the local government. "Hey, quit fooling around," he said. "You practicing for some sort of New Year's party entertainment or something?"

"Nope, this seriously happened," K said.

"Huh, well I guess you're okay like that… incidentally, did you do your transformation registration?

"Transformation registration?"

"The rates for your income tax are going to change now. For doormat transformations, it‘s just short of a 10 percent deduction."

"No way," K said.

"Really. It's too bad—if you were an iron it would've only been about 3 percent."



The next person to find K was a friend who was a literary critic.

”It would seem, at first glance, that you are a doormat," he said.

"100% a doormat," K said.

"Can you prove it?"

"Wipe your feet on me."

The friend wiped his feet. And then he knew that K was truly a doormat. "And again—why a doormat?"

"It's not my fault."

"It's not my fault?" he repeated. "That sort of remark is less Kafka and rather more Camus, don't you think?"



The next person to come see K was his girlfriend who worked in publishing. She tripped on K the doormat and hit her head on the mailbox.

"Oops, sorry. I was up all night chasing Harahashi around, and then out of nowhere he tells me to replace the table of contents, which was just… Hey, by the way, why did you turn into a doormat?"

"Escapism," K said.

"Poor thing," she said. "Is there anything I can do for you? Like I kiss you and you turn back into a human?"

"That kind of thinking ended in the 19th century," K said. "But I'd be very grateful if you could place me at the entrance of a girl's dormitory or something."

"No problem. That's all well and good, but the way you are now, you don't need your cassette player anymore right? Sooo—could I have it?"

"Sure thing."

"And you don't need your Boz Scaggs and Paul Davis records either right?

"Nope."

"I also really like that groovy Hawaiian shirt of yours."

"It's all yours."

"And can I borrow your car?"

"Just be sure to change the oil every now and then. And check the clutch for me. It's making a weird noise."

"You got it."

So K lived happily ever after at the entrance to a girl's dormitory, without any local government officials, literary critics, or publishers to bother him. So if you really think about it, being a doormat wouldn't be so bad, would it?

[From the collaborative collection 夢で会いましょう , 1986, Kodansha.]

Murakami Takes on Kafka

 One more small Murakami translation, and then I'll look at some other things to translate, OK guys? (Actually, I imagine the majority of you only want Murakami translations, am I right?)

This is from the collection 夢で会いましょう (yume de aimashou), Let's Meet in a Dream that Murakami did with Shigesato Itoi, essayist and creator of the SNES game Earthbound (or the Mother series if you're a real fanboy). It's a collection of short fictions and pseudo-essays and other miscellany, collected in "alphabetical" (what do you call it when we're talking about the hiragana syllabary? Hiragan-ical?) order. We've looked briefly at this collection in the post "Murakami the Poet", where Murakami flexed his poetic chops with the Yakult Swallows Poetry Anthology - which you can see some more examples of in this blog post from Yomuka.

For this post I wanted to do a small translation from Shigesato and not Murakami, but I ran into this little story and I just couldn't resist. I assume the K stands for Kafka here, who even gets a quick mention, as the premise is basically just a sillier version of the Metamorphosis. But there's no denying K is a letter of some fascination with Murakami, since it appears often in his work - most notably in Sputnik Sweetheart with K the narrator.


----


"K"

K… the 11th letter of the alphabet.


(Example: One morning, K woke up to find he had transformed into a doormat.)


One morning, K woke up to find he had transformed into a doormat.

"Well that's just great," K thought to himself. "Of all things, a doormat!"

The first person to find K the doormat was a friend who worked for the local government. "Hey, quit fooling around," he said. "You practicing for some sort of New Year's party entertainment or something?"

"Nope, this seriously happened," K said.

"Huh, well I guess you're okay like that… incidentally, did you do your transformation registration?

"Transformation registration?"

"The rates for your income tax are going to change now. For doormat transformations, it‘s just short of a 10 percent deduction."

"No way," K said.

"Really. It's too bad—if you were an iron it would've only been about 3 percent."




The next person to find K was a friend who was a literary critic.

”It would seem, at first glance, that you are a doormat," he said.

"100% a doormat," K said.

"Can you prove it?"

"Wipe your feet on me."

The friend wiped his feet. And then he knew that K was truly a doormat. "And again—why a doormat?"

"It's not my fault."

"
It's not my fault?" he repeated. "That sort of remark is less Kafka and rather more Camus, don't you think?"



The next person to come see K was his girlfriend who worked in publishing. She tripped on K the doormat and hit her head on the mailbox.

"Oops, sorry. I was up all night chasing Harahashi around, and then out of nowhere he tells me to replace the table of contents, which was just… Hey, by the way, why did you turn into a doormat?"

"Escapism," K said.

"Poor thing," she said. "Is there anything I can do for you? Like I kiss you and you turn back into a human?"

"That kind of thinking ended in the 19th century," K said. "But I'd be very grateful if you could place me at the entrance of a girl's dormitory or something."

"No problem. That's all well and good, but the way you are now, you don't need your cassette player anymore right? Sooo—could I have it?"

"Sure thing."

"And you don't need your Boz Scaggs and Paul Davis records either right?

"Nope."

"I also really like that groovy Hawaiian shirt of yours."

"It's all yours."

"And can I borrow your car?"

"Just be sure to change the oil every now and then. And check the clutch for me. It's making a weird noise."

"You got it."

So K lived happily ever after at the entrance to a girl's dormitory, without any local government officials, literary critics, or publishers to bother him. So if you really think about it, being a doormat wouldn't be so bad, would it?