Well, I'm going to leave the bio-ethics theme for a while and probably come back to it later.
I am currently writing a novel called Susuki, which is the sequel to my forthcoming novella, Shrike. Shrike is to be released by PS Publishing in mid-2008. Unfortunately, the fact that Susuki is a sequel to Shrike does not guarantee its publication. Publishing is an incredibly precarious and dilatory business, which, if you are prone to feelings of anxiety and suspense, can become a kind of water torture. I suppose that you probably don't have such problems getting things published if you're not actually a writer, by which I mean, if you're a celebrity. Apparently the novel Crystal by 'glamour model' Katie Price has "outsold the entire Booker shortlist combined". My source for this information is The Observer, which gives a facetious list of ways to write a blockbuster a la Katie Price:
Don't read books. It's a waste of time. Katie Price admits that she doesn't bother with fiction. Or non-fiction, for that matter. Although occasionally, she might dip into a bit of 'true crime'.
Employ a ghostwriter. Only losers write their own books. But make sure that you don't give them any credit or mention their name. A former journalist called Rebecca Farnworth is the actual 'Katie Price' in question and has, so far, written two autobiographies and two novels, with another autobiography and two further novels on the way.
Etcetera.
In this way the whole publishing industry becomes enslaved to people who don't care about literature or books. Do Katie Price's 'readers' actually read books? I doubt it very much. It's as if some conservationist body were somehow hijacked by golfers who decided the best way to save the rainforest was to turn it into a huge golf course. It's as if I managed to buy a football team and decided that it would be a vast improvement to the game if the players stopped kicking some stupid ball around and instead trained to become kabuki actors, giving performances of famous kabuki plays every time they came out onto the pitch (actually that would be great). It is the death of books, on which theme I might write more later. (I would like to add here that while previously I was quite indifferent to Katie Price, now I am more biased towards the idea that she should put on any top ten list of Britons who must immediately be assassinated.)
Anyway, on to happier things, to wit, my current novel, Susuki. I'm not going to say what the novel is about, not before the novella to which it is a sequel has even been released. I will say that I probably make greater use of my background in Japanese studies in this novel than in anything I've written previously. I've also had to do more research for this than for anything I've previously written, since there are certain sections that might be called historical. I usually try to avoid research, mainly because I don't have the budget for it. I think it's a fact that few readers grasp that writing a novel is a bit like making a film. If you don't have a big budget, you will be less able to invest in the kind of research that produces a spectacular epic spanning centuries. You will be making a low-budget film with unknown actors, limited sets and locations and so on, and the script and acting had better be pretty good. This is because, if you're not making a lot of money from writing, or you're not independently wealthy, you just don't have the time to do the kind of research you'd like to. The analogy falls down a bit in one conspicuous sense – even an independent, low-budget writer can come up with amazing special effects, and actually often does special effects better than the big studio writers.
This time, however, I have already done a significant amount of research – botanical, meteorological, cultural, literary, historical, etcetera – and intend to do a great deal more. Even if I bankrupt myself doing it, which, believe me, is a distinct possibility. All that despite the fact I cannot hope for a readership the size of that maestro Katie Price. Yes, indeed, only losers write their own books. So, in today's post, I just thought I'd share with you something rather special. It's a piece of research I did that informs one particular paragraph of the novel, and it is in the form of a film clip. This might give you some idea of the kind of things that are preoccupying me in this novel. Ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy famous onnagata Tamasaburo dancing in the role of Sagi Musume, the Heron Maiden:
You can watch an interview with Tamasaburo here.
Recently, I also discovered this rather interesting thing on the Internet. Writer Yann Martel is sending a book every week to Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper, partly, it seems, because he believes that the Canadian government does not sufficiently value culture. Now, if only I could get Katie Price's address, perhaps I could set up a website called, "What is Katie Price reading?" What would be the first volume I sent her, I wonder? Any suggestions?
Justin Isis writes:
Katie Price is Jordan, right? She is hot.Send her ‘EDEN EDEN EDEN’ by Pierre Guyotat.Or ‘The Collected Works of Shakespeare’Or ‘Finnegans Wake’Or ‘The Conspiracy Against the Human Race’ by Thomas LigottiHell, just send her your own books like ‘Rule Dementia!” and “Remember You’re a One-Ball!!!”
I need to read some Guyotat myself. Maybe I should also send her some Bruno Schulz. Anyone know her address?
“outsold the entire Booker shortlist combined”Cue my own sickly laughter. I would say this heralds the death of the human race, but we appear to be breedling like rabbits nontheless.”Now I am more biased towards the idea that she should put on any top ten list of Britons who must immediately be assassinated.”Is there a fund for such a thing? Where one might donate in unmarked bills? (Only partially kidding here.)
Quentin,What is it about traditional Japanese culture that interests you?The video clip was beautiful to watch. Thanks for sharing.
“Is there a fund for such a thing? Where one might donate in unmarked bills? (Only partially kidding here.)”Maybe I could start one. It could be the direction I’ve been looking for in my life.”What is it about traditional Japanese culture that interests you?” That’s a good question, but unfortunately it’s half past one in the morning, so I shall have to tackle it later.
Still pondering that question. You’d think I’d have some decent answer ready, considering my interests is now easily over ten years old, and probably more like sixteen years. But it’s actually a very difficult question. I think that one thing I can say is that there is an aesthetic sense in traditional Japanese culture that I find appealing. For instance, if I constrast Western art with Oriental (Chinese or Japanese), the latter has an immediate appeal to me, whereas the former seems difficult, like something that I have to study to understand. Compare the images below:http://www.cep.unt.edu/show/020.jpghttp://gallery.sjsu.edu/oldworld/asiangate/gardens/images/cd/jpn02047.jpgThe top image is a Gainsborough. It’s not bad, actually, but overall it gives me an impression of something very strong in Western thought – subject and object. The subject, the artist, is examining the object, the landscape, as if dissecting a corpse. When you make something into an object, you basically kill it. (I have vague memories that the Native Americans said similar things about ‘white men’, that the Human Beings saw everything as alive – rivers, rocks, trees, animals, people – but to the white man, everything was dead – rivers, rocks, trees, animals and people.) I think that’s why Western science developed in the way it did. It has a view of the world as a dead object to be manipulated. The lower image is, I believe, a Japanese painting in the Chinese tradition, though I don’t know the artist. Chinese landscape painting was heavily influenced by Taoism, and the Tao was supposed to flow through the brush. The picture does not show any subject/object separation. The landscape is like a dream of which the artist and viewer are merely parts, and it is all the more real and accessible for that. You can step into it, become it. Natsume Soseki writes about some of the differences between Western and Oriental art in his novel Pillow of Grass (also translated at The Three-Cornered World). He mentions how, for instance, Western novels and art seldom allow you to get away from the noise and the crowd of society. They focus on the human figure and on social problems. It’s very rare for Western artists to allow themselves simply to drift away on a cloud. I think you can see something of this in the two paintings above. One of them is heavy, methodical, earthy, the other is misty, floating, ethereal, and so on.So, maybe those are some indicators, but I don’t think that’s comprehensive by any means.
Justin Isis writes:
A great way to make young Asians uncomfortable is to talk about things like the difference between Western and Eastern art, the significance of Daoist philosophy, haiku, etc. and to presume that these concepts still inform their lives in any way. Or, alternatively, to presume that such things are mainstream worldwide. Sample conversation:Japanese Person: I just went and saw Die Hard 4 and had dinner at Denny’s. What did you do today?Me: Went to the jinja and washed my hands, prayed to Amaterasu for a while…went home and read the Kojiki for a few hours…you know, the usual.I refer to this as the “Mishima Todai Routine” (after the time when Mishima made the liberal students at Tokyo University incredibly resentful and uncomfortable by reminding them of courtly aesthetic traditions and miyabi and other things they considered desperately uncool and old-fashioned) – keep in mind, it works with any country, more or less. There’s an English girl here who, whenever she sees something about the Iraq war on TV, says in a very arch tone: “Oh, bother. The colonies are getting out of hand again.” )Although this may seem like an asshole thing to do, it’s actually a good way to fight the McDonalds-isation of the world, since it takes attention away from Worldwide Generic Culture (i.e. Hollywood movies, Clear Channel music, fast food, etc.) and shifts it back to neglected things that may actually be more interesting.
Yes, I agree. I mean, I think you know (although some readers might not have realised) that I’m certainly not talking about any current or generalised reality of the countries Japan and China in the statements made above. These are simply the things that interest me. Not the only things, it has to be said, but perhaps the kind of areas that draw my strongest interest. And it’s bound to be that way for anyone interested in a particular country before actually going there, I think. I wasn’t going to become interested in Japan because it has even more MacDonalds branches than Britain (not sure if that’s true but probably), or something like that. Even becoming interested in Japan through manga (which is fairly modern) really means becoming interested in a very rarefied and intangible aspect of the country.I never realised before going to Japan that Mishima is not seen as typically Japanese at all, but generally as a kind of embarrassing weirdo, probably because he was so much interested in traditional Japanese things himself. There’s also probably some connection to the fact that he was homosexual, which I think still has a stronger stigma in Japan than it does in the West. And people were shocked by him committing seppuku. I’m sure some Westerners still believe that the Japanese are disembowelling themselves left, right and centre, but I think the Japanese found what Mishima did quite as surprising as the rest of the world.It has crossed my mind that I should be a bit more ironic about things and have some disdain for a lot of these traditional things. The law of irony dictates that whenever some idea or problem has reached a certain level of public consciousness, you must never subscribe to it. High streets full of chainstores are ugly? Yes, but everyone knows that now, so the law of irony dictates that you must (pretend to) love high streets full of chainstores. But I’ve pretty much given up on the law of irony. If irony was once useful as a means of stepping back from things and examining your own assumptions and the roles that you play, then it has in itself now become just another unexamined role that people feel unable to step back from, following the law of irony to the Nth degree in order to be hip. In the end you have to break the chain at the point that suits you best, and just say, “Here. This is where I am. Ironic or not.”