Isn't He Adorable? : Thoughts on the Value of Translation

(photo by Makoto Kaku)

This afternoon I watched an NHK documentary on Donald Keene, a famous Japanologist who translated and analyzed a corpus of Japanese literature from ancient times to modern times.

He talked about how as a European literature major from Columbia university, he stumbled on Arthur Wiley's translation of "The Tale of Genji" at a  Times Square bookstore.

In his interview he described  "The Tale of Genji" as an escape to the uncertainties of reality.  The book was written simply for the sake of beauty and a beautiful society.  The moment defined the beginning of his career in Japanese literature.

I realized that his success stems from illuminating a part of the human experience that was unknown to the West. He had no competition because no one wanted to go to the wreckage of post-war Japan.

I'm REALLY jealous that he was able to live the life of a mind.   In many ways the life of a literary translator requires the mentality of an artist.  A computer could never translate literary text because translation isn't an algorithm that automatically converts one symbol to another. The first and foremost must communicate the feelings of the human condition.

I'm confused about how to express the relevance of the humanities.  Unlike Keene's career where communication and publication was heavily scrutinized, contemporary society has the opposite problem in that we are barraged with too much unfiltered information that it drowns out authoritative voices like Donald Keene.   The most popular person on the internet has the most credentials, not the person with the most comprehensive line of thought.

Personally I'm conflicted between getting a PhD versus finding an alternative path to study China.  I would have access to resources and connections to professional expertise on the humanities, but this resource is locked behind an ivory tower or digital subscription paywalls.  The alternative  is exploring the humanities without authoritative resources shaped by the internet.  How should this look like?

At least Donald Keene doesn't have to keep justifying the value of his work to the rest of society.  After the 2011 Tohoku earthquake, Keene renounced his US citizenship and moved to Japan.  I've never met Keene, but it's safe to say that he's one of the few rare people in the world that lived a passionate life.

 

1Q84 Book Review

Spoiler Alert!  Avert your eyes if you haven't read this book!

 



 

If this book had a soundtrack, besides the obvious Janacek Sinfonietta, it would totally be this spy-thrillerish song from Level E's theme song.

My feelings for Ushikawa is comparable to my feelings for the novel.

Poor Ushikawa, I wasn't sure how to feel about this oddly neutral character.  I guess I felt a sense of loss for whem Ushikawa separated from his perfect family, yet his creepy life as a professional stalker prevented me from feeling sympathy.  He died like a someone trying to kill a fish for dinner.  He was Nobakov's gun and died for Tengo and Aomame to get together.

Aomame and Tengo's relationship was awkward.  We only had the moment where Tengo and Aomame were holding hands for a moment at elementary school to imprint their romantic/sexual identity for the rest of their lives.   Only the moment of orgasm for Tengo to telepathically impregnate Aomame through Fuka-Eri.

The story had to many holes and ignored the development of important characters.  Did Professor Ebisuno find what he wanted?  Where did Fuka-Eri wander off too?  What about the guy fondling momma Tengo's boobs?

Murakami toyed with the standard conventions of storytelling to skew the reader's sense of logic.  I was certain Aomame was going to shoot herself in the face when she tried to find the manhole cover in the 1Q84 world.  Aomame's love for Tengo is the only fact the she knows exists in both 1Q and 1984.  She puts the gun away and my sense of what Murakami was trying to do made sense.

Given that Aomame and Tengo lived in an irrational world in 1984, 1Q84 wasn't too big of a stretch.  Murakami convinces the reader that Aomame's and Tengo's thoughts of loving each other makes sense to the reader.  Their ability to be together is like the certainty of a single moon in the sky.

One may criticize Murakami for leaving so many unanswered questions to the reader, yet Murakami succeeds in trying convey the irrationality of knowing what true love is.  You can't be too analytical in this novel or your reasoning will lead you nowhere.  Remember this is a love story.  It's only a paper moon.

 

 

 

Sidetrack to Japan: Intro

I want to explain about my views of Japanese culture before I get into talking about my review of 1Q84.

China is like Japan's older brother.  Not in a belittling sense, but more in terms of age in the written language.  Although China technically used its character writing system before Japan utilized it for Kanji, I don't want to give the impression that Chinese is more "authentic" than Japanese.  This youtube clip might have been how China and Japan first interacted with each other.

My impression of Japan prior to the industrial revolution was that it was constantly defining its national identity relative to China.  But once the Perry Expedition exposed Japan to the modern world, the country chose to model its national identity relative to the rest of the world.  Meanwhile China chose to cling more so onto its past before re-thinking its national identity when the Qing dynasty fell.
It may seem out of place to talk about Japan in a blog about Chinese literature, yet I believe comparing the two can provide an interesting vantage point when discussing China.

My "Sidetrack to Japan" series will attempt to complement the two country's literatures in order to show that beneath the stark differences, their identities can provide universal echoes of the human conscious.

Just throwing this out there, is there any Japanese "equivalent" to Lu Xun's Diary of a Madman?