Gao is the first Chinese author to receive Nobel price in literature (in 2000). Being a writer in exile, his works were immediately forbidden and criticised in Red Star country even more than before. As he is writing what should be written about Mao. Full stop.
He is still rather unknown in the west. A pity. As he has much to say universally, no only about the Chinese world.
I read before his book "The Soul Mountain" and was delighted. This one delighted me also, it is a masterpiece, contemporary masterpiece.
Why 'contemporary'? As it is different than other similar books. If someone is writing a book about China in 20th century, how to escape pathetics and shallow wallowing in the sorrow for the dead? As there is so many of these dead people, just for a pun on ethics of human race by Mao.
Which is the aspect of Gao's writing I consider so different?
Independence of thinking. He is not standing on he shoulders of giants, at all. No megalomany of Artist, just an ordinary, so ordinary, human being. This is what I would consider his largest achievement, his humanity. Despite all evil, all suffering.
Gao is sending us a message. Being a human being today is not a simple thing. It demands more than watching TV and doing our job, or performing a good family reality show.
Much more.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
Literature without borders-Milan Jovanovic
Croatians DO read serbian writers, and vice versa (I hope). One of my dearest authors for last 5 years is Milan Jovanovic, young lawyer from Serbia who (as so many others) left this country troubled by unfortunate choices Democracy enabled to its citizens. If Yugoslavia was mini-model of CCCP, then Serbia is (overblown) Russia, and Croatia...probably Georgia.
From his home in Munich this young writer produces-and publishes back in Serbia- in microscopic number of 300 issues, pure magic. After Milorad Pavic, who almost took a patent for magic in Serbia, with his merging of U. Ecco and JRR Tolkien, we hardly could expect master of equal talent there. Yet, it is here, in M. Jovanovic.
After "Monah", "Ratnik", "Zimovanje na primorju" and "Teodora", I was lucky to obtain the newest jewel: "Gospodar". I will share my thoughts on this book with you, Croatian version of this text
is at astrosailor.blog.hr .
Milan Jovanovic: "Gospodar"
-----------------------------
Fairy tale, almost in the sense of M. Pavic. But told the way only Jovanovic can, in simple language and without blown-up ikonography and hagiography of Serbia, the Land of Miracles and Magic. Jovanovic even "when he lies, does it beautifully", indeed.
What seems to be ordinary family history, so common to Slavic people from Moscow to Trieste, reminds us that life is way more miraculous than any novel. Supernatural dimension of this story, interwowen in its earthly moments, become more unbelievable than any witchcraft. Evil and Good cry at us from the depths of a dark lake in the moonlight, stained in virgin blood of village youth under mighty landlords.
Lynch would enjoy making movie by this book, and Hitchcock would not be bored, either.
From his home in Munich this young writer produces-and publishes back in Serbia- in microscopic number of 300 issues, pure magic. After Milorad Pavic, who almost took a patent for magic in Serbia, with his merging of U. Ecco and JRR Tolkien, we hardly could expect master of equal talent there. Yet, it is here, in M. Jovanovic.
After "Monah", "Ratnik", "Zimovanje na primorju" and "Teodora", I was lucky to obtain the newest jewel: "Gospodar". I will share my thoughts on this book with you, Croatian version of this text
is at astrosailor.blog.hr .
Milan Jovanovic: "Gospodar"
-----------------------------
Fairy tale, almost in the sense of M. Pavic. But told the way only Jovanovic can, in simple language and without blown-up ikonography and hagiography of Serbia, the Land of Miracles and Magic. Jovanovic even "when he lies, does it beautifully", indeed.
What seems to be ordinary family history, so common to Slavic people from Moscow to Trieste, reminds us that life is way more miraculous than any novel. Supernatural dimension of this story, interwowen in its earthly moments, become more unbelievable than any witchcraft. Evil and Good cry at us from the depths of a dark lake in the moonlight, stained in virgin blood of village youth under mighty landlords.
Lynch would enjoy making movie by this book, and Hitchcock would not be bored, either.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Durrellians, aaaalert!
After years of being a proper Durrellian, reading most of his works, I went for Amazon (USA) to acquire 'The Black Book', his first serious book. This is the one so acclaimed by H. Miller and Anais Nin and Pound (?) etc., which allowed him to live later with aura of a "writer" during not publishing much, when writing 'The Alexandria Quartet'. With big certainty this enabled him also to lay down lots of chicks. Sorry, my dear feminist friends, bit (t)his was another time, when you were "chicks" waiting for guys to lay you, other your occupations were much less important. So good it changed, isn't it? (khm)
This is 200 pages booklet, I like very much the superb quality of The New Traveller's Companion Series, really good bind of a paperback, this would survive not one travel. If I goto Mars I will take it with me, I promise ;-)
Also to try to understand it!
200 pages and I "understood" last 60, the 3rd 'book' inside (it consists of three such).
I agree fully with critics who claimed all his genius is shown already here. Later he merely dissolved it on more pages, in 'Quartet' and 'Quintet'. So, this is 200 pages of concentrated Durrell. Those of you who can not stand his pathetic attitude, do not touch this book, it is also concentrated here.
But is also his superb, somewhat youngish ironic self-reproachment of Male. Female is an object, no doubt, for him. Anais must be a) really good in bed or b)considered manlish , or both (hehe), to go around with such guys like this chimp or the other one, Henry Miller, really. What a show of limited (men) mind. But, on the other side, what a relief after these today all-conscious fucking-forgetting attitude of Modern Man. Which is more interesting wearing stockings and make-up than walking the street as a Man and taking the ChiC (yes, YOU) to lay!
As said, have to read it 2nd time to really grasp the first 3/4ths of the book, but it will be literary delicacy, I can tell you. Btw., anyone saw it in Europe? It was forbidden to publish until after the WWII (it was written in 1937, as all good books of XXct were), and then I find it only in USA, are we more puritan than Puritans? Funny that in the same time when Miller published this in the USA, his own books were forbidden there. Censors concentrate on their own citizens, obviously.
This is 200 pages booklet, I like very much the superb quality of The New Traveller's Companion Series, really good bind of a paperback, this would survive not one travel. If I goto Mars I will take it with me, I promise ;-)
Also to try to understand it!
200 pages and I "understood" last 60, the 3rd 'book' inside (it consists of three such).
I agree fully with critics who claimed all his genius is shown already here. Later he merely dissolved it on more pages, in 'Quartet' and 'Quintet'. So, this is 200 pages of concentrated Durrell. Those of you who can not stand his pathetic attitude, do not touch this book, it is also concentrated here.
But is also his superb, somewhat youngish ironic self-reproachment of Male. Female is an object, no doubt, for him. Anais must be a) really good in bed or b)considered manlish , or both (hehe), to go around with such guys like this chimp or the other one, Henry Miller, really. What a show of limited (men) mind. But, on the other side, what a relief after these today all-conscious fucking-forgetting attitude of Modern Man. Which is more interesting wearing stockings and make-up than walking the street as a Man and taking the ChiC (yes, YOU) to lay!
As said, have to read it 2nd time to really grasp the first 3/4ths of the book, but it will be literary delicacy, I can tell you. Btw., anyone saw it in Europe? It was forbidden to publish until after the WWII (it was written in 1937, as all good books of XXct were), and then I find it only in USA, are we more puritan than Puritans? Funny that in the same time when Miller published this in the USA, his own books were forbidden there. Censors concentrate on their own citizens, obviously.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
On learning Mandarin
Learning the language, it is worth to do the same as learning some country: note the peculiarities down, until they are still peculiarities. Later one gets used to it.
Large numbers in Mandarin (as also in Japanese) go in succession of 10-thousends, not thousends as in Western style. Means you say 100 000 as 10 0000 =yi(1) wan(4). This is the reason why chinese speakers have troubles with larger numbers in other languages, it is not the language matter, but way of counting!
The same is with gender, as it does not exist in Chinese, it is imperceivable for them in other languages.
One my friend, Czech of "Mech, Lech and Czech", David V. is right: it IS fun speaking it, as your brain has to go different ways, I was laughing today trying to say 37520! Constructing (simple) sentences-as it is extremely simple matter, in fact, because of little grammar -is also fun of a kind, logical play, but with queer logics.
It comes as learning use of left hand for writing for right-hander, in a sense.
On pinyin and bpmf (romanisation or zhuyin fuhao for writing down the pronounciation): really, to know both is useful, for pinyin can be misleading for English speakers, and for single words it is really batter to use bpmf to write it down.
But, for longer texts, it is much easier, if you do not know Chinese characters yet, to write text down in pinyin, even if you write incorrect tones at first, you wil be able to correct them later. Taiwanese probably can do it with BPMF, but some exercise with this is, really, needed. It is not so easy as with hiragana and katakana in Japanese, because of tonal writing, not sound.
Anyway, as you see, I have some fun with it, and will have for some time to come. Why? And why not?
Large numbers in Mandarin (as also in Japanese) go in succession of 10-thousends, not thousends as in Western style. Means you say 100 000 as 10 0000 =yi(1) wan(4). This is the reason why chinese speakers have troubles with larger numbers in other languages, it is not the language matter, but way of counting!
The same is with gender, as it does not exist in Chinese, it is imperceivable for them in other languages.
One my friend, Czech of "Mech, Lech and Czech", David V. is right: it IS fun speaking it, as your brain has to go different ways, I was laughing today trying to say 37520! Constructing (simple) sentences-as it is extremely simple matter, in fact, because of little grammar -is also fun of a kind, logical play, but with queer logics.
It comes as learning use of left hand for writing for right-hander, in a sense.
On pinyin and bpmf (romanisation or zhuyin fuhao for writing down the pronounciation): really, to know both is useful, for pinyin can be misleading for English speakers, and for single words it is really batter to use bpmf to write it down.
But, for longer texts, it is much easier, if you do not know Chinese characters yet, to write text down in pinyin, even if you write incorrect tones at first, you wil be able to correct them later. Taiwanese probably can do it with BPMF, but some exercise with this is, really, needed. It is not so easy as with hiragana and katakana in Japanese, because of tonal writing, not sound.
Anyway, as you see, I have some fun with it, and will have for some time to come. Why? And why not?
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Thomas Bernhard: "The Lime Works"
This book goes in line with E. Jelinek not only by Austrian authorship. It is chronicle about megalomaniac "scientist" in middle Austria. Book is a kind of report, given by others in the village, about the main hero which one could gather going around and drinking beers in local inns with local people, chatting with them. So typical Austrian, and because of it also so Slovenian or North Croatian, also.
Konrad and his crippled wife live in seclusion of lime works, where he conducts series of everyday experiments on hearing, as he plans to write a book about Sense of Hearing. Plans. For ages.
Point is that he expects it to pop out from his head to paper. Looks like schizophrenic circle. But what Bernhard describes is in fact sheer madness, finishing with Konrad killing his wife from the riffle with few (or one? In inns things get so exagerrated...) shots.
It reminds, because of this crazy narrative, Canetti's 'Auto da fe' ("Die Blendung"), with its mono-thematic crazy Chinese professor (about his books). Society here is rather less important than in Canetti, but, paradoxically, Bernhard's Konrad is made of people's wording, not his own actions, when Canetti's K is real person. German mind can really twist the things sometimes!
I do not see much in Konrad, just a crazy failed persona, I can not even sympathize with him, so Austrian he is (would you ever find possible to sympathize with an primordial Austrian??? Never. The same as primordial Croatian). I am sure there is deeper 'explanation' for Konrad, but I am not interested in it.
Also, as I see so many reflections of Northern Croatia in it (as mindset is rather similar to Austrian) I probably felt the atmosphere of the book too close to what I know, that I could abstract it to more general level. Growing up in mountains, in similar seclusion, in the apartment above the local bar. There mother had to shift the beds in bedrooms every now and then, when miners (in coal mine) would get payed, as then they'd drink and play billiard and shoot from their riffles in the ceiling of the bar below our bedrooms. Sounds similar to Konrad, really.
How many similar failures I saw in these schnapps-washed locations (certain Ante coming to my mind, and his peculiar style. But, this guy is dead for ages already, why now he popped into my mind!) There is something peculiar about small mountains, close-by larger cities. Maybe it is the feeling of failure of staying there, when nearby there is "so many" possibilities of big city? Maybe. I do not know. Maybe it is genetics, too much schnapps affecting the genes of these hard working people? Or beautiful views, feeding some "higher" thoughts, too high for given possibilities? I would go for lethal combination of this all. But Konrad himself is not native of this forgotten place, he is Welt-wanderer, Konrads traveled all around the world, excessively even, living in many places, in search for conditions which would produce the egg of his book from his intestines. Weltschmerz, then? No, will not be, he is not so simple.
In fact, now I wrote 'Urbanchich method' in Google (this is the method of hearing exercises Konrad is subjecting his wife to through years, kind of sound torture), and I am even more positive I do not want to learn behind the symbols of this book. It was about New South Wales (Australia!) politycs, australiapolit :
"One of the matters raised in this article was the re-emergence, as a senior player in Liberal Party factional tussles, of the well-known anti-Semite and Nazi collaborator Lyenko Urbanchich. The article covered a meeting between a number of New South Wales Liberal Party factional heavies from the broad right wing of the party. Of course, that other well-known Australian citizen and Nazi, Conrad Kalejs, ..."
Coincidence? Sorry, I do not believe in such coincidences.
"Mr Urbanchich was known as the Little Goebbels of Lubiana. He was a highly placed official within the propaganda apparatus of the Nazi puppet-state of Slovenia. During the reign of this quisling regime, 90 per cent of Slovenia’s Jews were either killed or deported to the death camps, while Lubiana’s Jewish community was annihilated."
I do not want to make my hands dirty with it. Oh (g)ho(st)ly shit, why always one stumbles upon a heap of shit, however small it would not be?
few days later:
Bernhard's memoirs seem to be worth to read: "Gathering Evidence" (1985, memoir): Collects Die Ursache (1975), Der Keller (1976), Der Atem (1978), Die Kälte (1981) and Ein Kind (1982) , taken from Wikipedia.
Konrad and his crippled wife live in seclusion of lime works, where he conducts series of everyday experiments on hearing, as he plans to write a book about Sense of Hearing. Plans. For ages.
Point is that he expects it to pop out from his head to paper. Looks like schizophrenic circle. But what Bernhard describes is in fact sheer madness, finishing with Konrad killing his wife from the riffle with few (or one? In inns things get so exagerrated...) shots.
It reminds, because of this crazy narrative, Canetti's 'Auto da fe' ("Die Blendung"), with its mono-thematic crazy Chinese professor (about his books). Society here is rather less important than in Canetti, but, paradoxically, Bernhard's Konrad is made of people's wording, not his own actions, when Canetti's K is real person. German mind can really twist the things sometimes!
I do not see much in Konrad, just a crazy failed persona, I can not even sympathize with him, so Austrian he is (would you ever find possible to sympathize with an primordial Austrian??? Never. The same as primordial Croatian). I am sure there is deeper 'explanation' for Konrad, but I am not interested in it.
Also, as I see so many reflections of Northern Croatia in it (as mindset is rather similar to Austrian) I probably felt the atmosphere of the book too close to what I know, that I could abstract it to more general level. Growing up in mountains, in similar seclusion, in the apartment above the local bar. There mother had to shift the beds in bedrooms every now and then, when miners (in coal mine) would get payed, as then they'd drink and play billiard and shoot from their riffles in the ceiling of the bar below our bedrooms. Sounds similar to Konrad, really.
How many similar failures I saw in these schnapps-washed locations (certain Ante coming to my mind, and his peculiar style. But, this guy is dead for ages already, why now he popped into my mind!) There is something peculiar about small mountains, close-by larger cities. Maybe it is the feeling of failure of staying there, when nearby there is "so many" possibilities of big city? Maybe. I do not know. Maybe it is genetics, too much schnapps affecting the genes of these hard working people? Or beautiful views, feeding some "higher" thoughts, too high for given possibilities? I would go for lethal combination of this all. But Konrad himself is not native of this forgotten place, he is Welt-wanderer, Konrads traveled all around the world, excessively even, living in many places, in search for conditions which would produce the egg of his book from his intestines. Weltschmerz, then? No, will not be, he is not so simple.
In fact, now I wrote 'Urbanchich method' in Google (this is the method of hearing exercises Konrad is subjecting his wife to through years, kind of sound torture), and I am even more positive I do not want to learn behind the symbols of this book. It was about New South Wales (Australia!) politycs, australiapolit :
"One of the matters raised in this article was the re-emergence, as a senior player in Liberal Party factional tussles, of the well-known anti-Semite and Nazi collaborator Lyenko Urbanchich. The article covered a meeting between a number of New South Wales Liberal Party factional heavies from the broad right wing of the party. Of course, that other well-known Australian citizen and Nazi, Conrad Kalejs, ..."
Coincidence? Sorry, I do not believe in such coincidences.
"Mr Urbanchich was known as the Little Goebbels of Lubiana. He was a highly placed official within the propaganda apparatus of the Nazi puppet-state of Slovenia. During the reign of this quisling regime, 90 per cent of Slovenia’s Jews were either killed or deported to the death camps, while Lubiana’s Jewish community was annihilated."
I do not want to make my hands dirty with it. Oh (g)ho(st)ly shit, why always one stumbles upon a heap of shit, however small it would not be?
few days later:
Bernhard's memoirs seem to be worth to read: "Gathering Evidence" (1985, memoir): Collects Die Ursache (1975), Der Keller (1976), Der Atem (1978), Die Kälte (1981) and Ein Kind (1982) , taken from Wikipedia.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Norvegian wood
Haruki Murakami: Norvegian wood
In a translator's note at the end, there is a comment by H.M. that although he borowed a lot from his university days, this is not, by any means, autobiographical work. That it is a literary exercise in an unusual genre for him. His time in the university was rather dull.
What comes to my mind is that my own time in the university was not dull, somewhat because of my own doings and somewhat because of doings of history (Balkan war at the beginning of 1990-ies). I was doing some literary exercises afterwards, definitely NOT going into anything like description of the war times. But, then, there is so much what sneakes, we are our own flesh and it is impossible our own experiences would not colour our expression about the world. In this respect such a book ought to be biography of soul of time and place, together with people involved.
"Norvwgian wood" is a love story, some people perceive it like it? I would not say. It is rather a fate story, mixed with decision stories. Actors take their freedom to act. Outside rules are swept out, as in love story, but that's common to them all.
Highly reccomended reading.
In a translator's note at the end, there is a comment by H.M. that although he borowed a lot from his university days, this is not, by any means, autobiographical work. That it is a literary exercise in an unusual genre for him. His time in the university was rather dull.
What comes to my mind is that my own time in the university was not dull, somewhat because of my own doings and somewhat because of doings of history (Balkan war at the beginning of 1990-ies). I was doing some literary exercises afterwards, definitely NOT going into anything like description of the war times. But, then, there is so much what sneakes, we are our own flesh and it is impossible our own experiences would not colour our expression about the world. In this respect such a book ought to be biography of soul of time and place, together with people involved.
"Norvwgian wood" is a love story, some people perceive it like it? I would not say. It is rather a fate story, mixed with decision stories. Actors take their freedom to act. Outside rules are swept out, as in love story, but that's common to them all.
Highly reccomended reading.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Short talks ver. long talks
I was giving a proper colloquium, after longer time of pressing my mind into 10 or 15 minute talks. Not that I would have so much to say about my High Science, but it is nice sometimes to have possibility to develop line of reasoning and say what one has to say. One hour talk (10 min for questions) is just enough for it. Interesting was that I choosed not to speak about my specific topic, but some offspring of it. One hour of talk about numerical tests for MHD simulations might seem horrible, at least for the audience. But, knowing there will be mainly students, I did my best to be illustrative and clear as much as possible. As nobody fall down from the chair, snoring, I suppose I succeeded.
Interesting samoobservation was that I actually enjoyed the show. As said, it was rather non-sexy topic. But, exactly this made it more of a challenge! After 12 years of presenting in Science, even dropout from the highly frustrating machinery of Zagreb University gets to learn to give talks relaxed and non-stresses. And if I remember how much of stress I had to work through during these 12 years! Well, nothing I have to tell to fellow sufferers, present students etc., than: endure. One day you will go through. Just do not think too much, do not do much of stress. Understand it is something to deal with, and one, eventually, gets used, forgets it. After some time you gain proficiency in what you do, and this helps. When speaking about things new to you, or out of your scope, you learn to know your limits, and are not pressed to "know everything perfect", you know where you can say "I do not know", or just go over it, silently. Simply, one actually learns some things with time, really! Good luck
One financial addition: interesting is that here in Taiwan they pay you for such talks, if given on other institution. A bit less than 50 eur for an hour, not too bad, really. Strange feeling, for us europeans, to get envelope with money afterwards.
And one observation about city where I was, half way between Hsinchu and Taipei, Jhongli. Dirty, ugly industrial city. Only thing worth notice are beautiful girls on the streets, sometimes. This is core of Taiwan Tiger industry, with Taoyouan close by, and it is visible in the level of pollution and dirt everywhere. Taoyuian already invested its money into infrastructure, Jhongli still has to do it, obviously.
Interesting samoobservation was that I actually enjoyed the show. As said, it was rather non-sexy topic. But, exactly this made it more of a challenge! After 12 years of presenting in Science, even dropout from the highly frustrating machinery of Zagreb University gets to learn to give talks relaxed and non-stresses. And if I remember how much of stress I had to work through during these 12 years! Well, nothing I have to tell to fellow sufferers, present students etc., than: endure. One day you will go through. Just do not think too much, do not do much of stress. Understand it is something to deal with, and one, eventually, gets used, forgets it. After some time you gain proficiency in what you do, and this helps. When speaking about things new to you, or out of your scope, you learn to know your limits, and are not pressed to "know everything perfect", you know where you can say "I do not know", or just go over it, silently. Simply, one actually learns some things with time, really! Good luck
One financial addition: interesting is that here in Taiwan they pay you for such talks, if given on other institution. A bit less than 50 eur for an hour, not too bad, really. Strange feeling, for us europeans, to get envelope with money afterwards.
And one observation about city where I was, half way between Hsinchu and Taipei, Jhongli. Dirty, ugly industrial city. Only thing worth notice are beautiful girls on the streets, sometimes. This is core of Taiwan Tiger industry, with Taoyouan close by, and it is visible in the level of pollution and dirt everywhere. Taoyuian already invested its money into infrastructure, Jhongli still has to do it, obviously.
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