1. Identity - collective -- Japan 2. Orientalism -- Occidentalism 3. Intercultural communication - stereotypes 4. Translation theory - Japanese/English 5. Japanese - sociolinguistics Languages exotic to one another, such as English and Japanese, create false images of their respective speakers which form and confirm stereotypes that can be denied by Cultural Relativism but not disproved, much less vanquished. Being in denial is not the same as being cured. This book, like the author's seven books published in Japan/ese, treats prejudice by uncovering its roots and exposing them to the healthy light of reason. At the same time, it rethinks Orientalism together with Occidentalism by including the Sinosphere's perspective of what is East and West. While students of translation, sociolinguistics and cross-cultural studies may benefit most from the discussion (there are copious notes and indices of names and of ideas), the heart of the work is pure essay, "a work of travel by the path of language" that "leads us through delicious nuances . . . into important mysteries." Robin D. Gill is an American, who began to study Japanese as an adult and published his first seven books in that language while working as an acquisitions editor and translation checker of fine nonfiction for Japanese publishers. His most recent book, and first in English, Rise, Ye Sea Slugs! boasts close to 1000 holothurian haiku. The three most common adjectives used by reviewers describing him and his work are "eclectic," "erudite" and "fun.
In 1585, Luis Frois, a 53 year old Jesuit who spent all of his adult life in Japan listed 611(!) ways Europeans and Japanese were contrary (completely opposite) to one another. Robin D. Gill, a 53 year old writer who spent most of his adulthood in Japan, translates these topsy-turvy claims - we sniff the top of our melons to see if they are ripe / they sniff the bottom of theirs (10% of the book), examines their validity (20% of the book), and plays with them (70% of the book). Readers with the intellectual horsepower to enjoy ideas will be grateful for pages discussing things like the significance of black and white clothing or large eyes vs. small ones, while others with a ken to collect quirky facts will be delighted to find, say, that the women in Kyoto were known to urinate standing up, or Japanese horses had their stale gathered by long-handled ladles, etc., and serious students of history and comparative culture will gain a better understanding of the nature of radical difference (exotic, by definition) and its relationship with the farsighted policy of accommodation pioneered by Valignano in the Far East.
Imagine a cat who mastered more tricks than a highly trained dog, covered up cans of food he did not want to eat before they were opened and could delicately touch a tiny finger-spun top repeatedly without stopping it. Han-chan was such a cat. His memory, preserved in notes and sketches, inspired an authority on stereotypes of national character and translator of Edo era Japanese poetry to essay out of his fields of expertise and into felinity. Sample chapters: The animal that kneads the world. / Conversing with cats: easier in Japanese? / Smiling with closed eyes, or far from Ecotopia. /Are cats the most or least false animal. / Beauty: Is it relative or . . . is it the cat? / A little red mouse, or are we keeping the right pet? / The third-generation tanuki - a new theory of domestication. Observations are coupled with thought about things such as 1) whether the altered behavior usually explained as saving face or covering up weakness is not more like improvisation that, retrospectively, makes melodic sense of what would be wrong notes by offsetting or dream-style logic that, ever present, keeps the flow from breaking. 2) Cats, or some cats, may avoid trauma from bad experiences by convincing themselves it was only a nightmare and continuing to hope until they can cope. 3) Cats demonstrate their social nature by showing off their catches, sleeping together in the cold and behaving themselves, but most are, unfortunately, like so-called feral children: because they are separated from their family while too young to have socialized, they re-enforce the stereotype of the independent asocial cat. One can only understand felinity by living with generations of cats under one roof. The author did this. People who liked Barbara Holland's "Secrets of the Cat," the cat chapter in Vicki Hearne's "Adam's Task" and Leonard Michaels' "A Cat" will probably purr while reading this.
In this book, the first of a series, Robin D. Gill, author of the highly acclaimed Rise, Ye Sea Slugs! and Cherry Blossom Epiphany, the largest single-theme anthologies of poetry ever published, explores the traditional Japanese New Year through 2,000 translated haiku (mostly 17-20c). "The New Year," R.H. Blyth once wrote, "is a season by itself." That was nowhere so plain as in the world of haiku, where saijiki, large collections called of ku illustrating hundreds, if not thousands of briefly explained seasonal themes, generally comprised five volumes, one for each season. Yet, the great doyen of haiku gave this fifth season, considered the first season when it came at the head of the Spring rather than in mid-winter, only a tenth of the pages he gave to each of the other four seasons (20 vs. 200). Was Blyth, Zen enthusiast, not enamored with ritual? Or, was he loath to translate the New Year with its many cultural idiosyncrasies (most common to the Sinosphere but not to the West), because he did not want to have to explain the haiku? It is hard to say, but, with these poems for the re-creation of the world, Robin D. Gill, aka "keigu" (respect foolishness, or respect-fool), rushes in where even Blyth feared to tread to give this supernatural or cosmological season - one that combines aspects of the Solstice, Christmas, New Year's, Easter, July 4th and the Once Upon a Time of Fairy Tales - the attention it deserves. With G.K. Chesterton's words, evoking the mind of the haiku poets of old, the author-publisher leaves further description of the content to his reader-reviewers. "The man standing in his own kitchen-garden with the fairyland opening at the gate, is the man with large ideas. His mind creates distance; the motor-car stupidly destroys it." (G.K. Chesterton: Heretics 1905)
Readings combined into a single cluster to English Japanese poems of Joycean density untranslatable as single poems came to be called composite translations. While this book essays the translation of poetry and glances at other books of multiple translation, it is mostly an exhibition of the art not only intended for serious students or scholars of translation but all word-lovers. While the author hates how to books, writing the last chapter, he came to realize that not only translators, but monolingual readers who find it hard to compose poems or do not know how to get other people to do so, might find it instructive. He dreams of millions of people working out their own poems - or variations on others' work - rather than crossword puzzles. A crossword solved ends up in the trash; with a poem, you can have your cake and not only eat it, too, but serve it up for others to eat.--amazon.com.
Rise, Ye Sea Slugs! is a book of many faces. First, it is a book of translated haiku and contains over 900 of these short Japanese poems in the original (smoothly inserted in the main body),with phonetic and literal renditions, as well as the authors English translations and explanations. All but a dozen or two of the haiku are translated for the first time. There is an index of poets, poems and a bibliography. Second, it is a book of sea slug haiku, for all of the poems are about holothurians, which scientists prefer to call sea cucumbers. (The word cucumber is long for haiku and metaphorically unsuitable for many poems, so poetic license was taken.) With this book, the namako, as the sea cucumber is called in Japanese, becomes the most translated single subject in haiku, surpassing the harvest moon, the snow, the cuckoo, butterflies and even cherry blossoms. Third, it is a book of original haiku. While the authors original intent was to include only genuine old haiku (dating back to the 17th century), modern haiku were added and, eventually, Keigu (Gills haiku name) composed about a hundred of his own to help fill out gaps in the metaphorical museum. For many if not most modern haiku taken from the web, it is also their first time in print! Fourth, it is a book of metaphor. How may we arrange hundreds of poems on a single theme? Gill divides them into 21 main metaphors, including the Cold Sea Slug, the Mystic Sea Slug, the Helpless Sea Slug, the Slippery Sea Slug, the Silent Sea Slug, and the Melancholy Sea Slug, giving each a chapter, within which the metaphors may be further subdivided, and adds a 100 pages of Sundry Sea Slugs (scores of varieties including Monster, Spam, Flying, Urban Myth, and Exploding). Fifth, it is a book on haiku. E ditors usually select only the best haiku, but, Gill includes good and bad haiku by everyone from the 17th century haiku master to the anonymous haiku rejected in some internet contest. This is not to say all poems found were included, but that the standard was along more taxonomic or encyclopedic lines: poems that filled in a metaphorical or sub-metaphorical gap were always welcome. Also, Gill shows there is more than one type of good haiku. These are new ways to approach haiku. Sixth, it is a book on translation. There are approximately 2 translations per haiku, and some boast a dozen. These arearranged in mixed single, double and triple-column clusters which make each reading seem a different aspect of a singular, almost crystalline whole. The authors aim is to demonstrate that multiple reading (such as found in Hofstadters Le Ton Beau de Marot) is not only a fun game but a bona fide method of translating, especially useful for translating poetry between exotic tongues. Seventh, it is a book of nature writing, natural history or metaphysics (in the Emersonian sense). Gill tried to compile relevant or interesting (not necessarily both) historical -- this includes the sea slug in literature, English or Japanese, and in folklore -- and scientific facts to read haiku in their light or, conversely, bringor wring out science from haiku. Unlike most nature writers, Gill admits to doing no fieldwork, but sluggishly staying put and relying upon reportsfrom more mobile souls. Eighth, it is a book about food symbolism. The sea cucumber is noticed by Japanese because they eat it; the eating itselfinvolves physical difficulties (slipperiness and hardness) and pleasures from overcoming them. It is also identified with a state of mind, where you are what you eat takes on psychological dimensions not found in the food literature of the West. Ninth, it is a book about Japanese culture. Gill does not set out to explain Japan, and the sea slug itself is silent;but the collection of poems and their explanations, which include analysis by poets who responded to the author's questions as well has historical sources, take us all around the culture, from ancient myths to contemporary dreams. Tenth, it is a book about sea cucumbers. While most species of sea cucumbers are not mentioned and the coverage of the Japanese sea cucumber is sketchy from the scientific point of view, Gill does introduce this animal graced to live with no brain thanks to the smart materials comprising it and blessed for sucking in dirty sediment and pooping it out clean. Eleventh, it is a book about ambiguity. Gill admits there is much that cannot be translated, much he cannot know and much to be improved in future editions, for which purpose he advises readers to see the on-line Glosses and Errata in English and Japanese. His policy is to confide in, rather than slip by the reader unnoticed, in the manner of the invisible modern translator and allow the reader to makechoices or choose to allow multiple possibilities to exist by not chosing.Twelfth, the book is the first of dozens of spin-offs from a twenty-book haiku saijiki (poetic almanac) called In Praise of Olde Haiku (IPOOH, for short) Gill hopes to finish within the decade. Thirteenth. The book is a novelty item. It has a different (often witty) header (caption) on top of each page and copious notes that are rarely academic and oftehumorous.
Even readers with no particular interest in Japan - if such odd souls exist - may expect unexpected pleasure from this book if English metaphysical poetry, grooks, hyperlogical nonsense verse, outrageous epigrams, the (im)possibilities and process of translation between exotic tongues, the reason of puns and rhyme, outlandish metaphor, extreme hyperbole and whatnot tickle their fancy. Read together with The Woman Without a Hole, also by Robin D. Gill, the hitherto overlooked ulterior side of art poetry in Japan may now be thoroughly explored by monolinguals, though bilinguals and students of Japanese will be happy to know all the original Japanese is included.--amazon.com.
Cherry Blossom Epiphany - the poetry and philosophy of a flowering tree - a selection, translation and lengthy explication of 3000 haiku, waka, senryû and kyôka about a major theme from I.P.O.O.H. (In Praise Of Olde Haiku)by robin d. gill 1. Haiku -Translation from Japanese to English 2. Japanese poetry - 8c-20c - waka, haiku and senryû 3. Natural History - flowering cherries 4. Japan - Culture - Edo Era 5. Nonfiction - Literature 6. Translation - applied 7. You tell me! If the solemn yet happy New Year's is the most important celebration of Japanese (Yamato) ethnic culture, and the quiet aesthetic practice of Moon-viewing in the fall the most elegant expression of Pan-Asian Buddhism=religion, the subject of this book, Blossom-viewing - which generally means sitting down together in vast crowds to drink, dance, sing and otherwise enjoy the flowering cherry in full-bloom - is less a rite than a riot (a word originally meaning an 'uproar'). The major carnival of the year, it is unusual for being held on a date that is not determined by astronomy, astrology or the accidents of history as most such events are in literate cultures. It takes place whenever the cherry trees are good and ready. Enjoyed in the flesh, the blossom-viewing, or hanami, is also of the mind, so much so, in fact, that poetry is often credited with the spread of the practice over the centuries from the Imperial courts to the maids of Edo. Nobles enjoyed link-verse contests presided over by famous poet-judges. Hermits hung poems feting this flower of flowers (to say the generic "flower" = hana in Japanese connotes "cherry!") on strips of paper from the branches of lone trees where only the wind would read them. In the Occident, too, flowers embody beauty and serve as reminders of mortality, but there is no flower that, like the cherry blossom, stands for all flowers. Even the rose, by any name, cannot compare with the sakura in depth and breadth of poetic trope or viewing practice. In Cherry Blossom Epiphany, Robin D. Gill hopes to help readers experience, metaphysically, some of this alternative world. Haiku is a hyper-short (17-syllabet or 7-beat) Japanese poem directly or indirectly touching upon seasonal phenomena, natural or cultural. Literally millions of these ku have been written, some, perhaps, many times, about the flowering cherry (sakura), and the human activity associated with it, blossom-viewing (hanami). As the most popular theme in traditional haiku (haikai), cherry-blossom ku tend to be overlooked by modern critics more interested in creativity expressed with fresh subjects; but this embarrassment of riches has much to offer the poet who is pushed to come up with something, anything, different from the rest and allows the editor to select from what is, for all practical purposes, an infinite number of ku. Literary critics, take note: Like Rise, Ye Sea Slugs! (2003) and Fly-ku! (2004), this book not only explores new ways to anthologize poetry but demonstrates the practice of multiple readings (an average of two per ku) as part of a composite translation turned into an object of art by innovative clustering. Book-collectors might further note that while Cherry Blossom Epiphany may not be hardback, it takes advantage of the many symbols included with Japanese font to introduce design ornamentation (the circle within the circle, the reverse (Buddhist) swastika, etc.) hitherto not found in English language print. It is a one-of-a-kind work of design by the author.
How remarkable changes in ancient Greek pottery reveal the transformation of classical Greek culture Why did soldiers stop fighting, athletes stop competing, and lovers stop having graphic sex in classical Greek art? The scenes depicted on Athenian pottery of the mid-fifth century BC are very different from those of the late sixth century. Did Greek potters have a different world to see—or did they come to see the world differently? In this lavishly illustrated and engagingly written book, Robin Osborne argues that these remarkable changes are the best evidence for the shifting nature of classical Greek culture. Osborne examines the thousands of surviving Athenian red-figure pots painted between 520 and 440 BC and describes the changing depictions of soldiers and athletes, drinking parties and religious occasions, sexual relations, and scenes of daily life. He shows that it was not changes in each activity that determined how the world was shown, but changes in values and aesthetics. By demonstrating that changes in artistic style involve choices about what aspects of the world we decide to represent as well as how to represent them, this book rewrites the history of Greek art. By showing that Greeks came to see the world differently over the span of less than a century, it reassesses the history of classical Greece and of Athenian democracy. And by questioning whether art reflects or produces social and political change, it provokes a fresh examination of the role of images in an ever-evolving world.
Even readers with no particular interest in Japan - if such odd souls exist - may expect unexpected pleasure from this book if English metaphysical poetry, grooks, hyperlogical nonsense verse, outrageous epigrams, the (im)possibilities and process of translation between exotic tongues, the reason of puns and rhyme, outlandish metaphor, extreme hyperbole and whatnot tickle their fancy. Read together with The Woman Without a Hole, also by Robin D. Gill, the hitherto overlooked ulterior side of art poetry in Japan may now be thoroughly explored by monolinguals, though bilinguals and students of Japanese will be happy to know all the original Japanese is included. This Reader is a selection from "Mad in Translation - a thousand years of kyoka, comic Japanese poetry in the classic waka mode," a 2000-poem, 200-chapter, 740-page monster of a book. It offers a 300-page double distillation high-proof sample of the poetry and prose, with improved translations, re-considered opinions and additional snake-legs (explanation some scholars may not need). The scattershot of two-page chapters and notes have been compounded into a score of cannonball-sized thematic chapters with just enough weight to bowl over most specialists yet, hopefully, not bore the amateur and sink a potentially broad-beamed readership. (More information may be found at the Paraverse Press website or Google Books)
Rise, Ye Sea Slugs! is a book of many faces. First, it is a book of translated haiku and contains over 900 of these short Japanese poems in the original (smoothly inserted in the main body),with phonetic and literal renditions, as well as the authors English translations and explanations. All but a dozen or two of the haiku are translated for the first time. There is an index of poets, poems and a bibliography. Second, it is a book of sea slug haiku, for all of the poems are about holothurians, which scientists prefer to call sea cucumbers. (The word cucumber is long for haiku and metaphorically unsuitable for many poems, so poetic license was taken.) With this book, the namako, as the sea cucumber is called in Japanese, becomes the most translated single subject in haiku, surpassing the harvest moon, the snow, the cuckoo, butterflies and even cherry blossoms. Third, it is a book of original haiku. While the authors original intent was to include only genuine old haiku (dating back to the 17th century), modern haiku were added and, eventually, Keigu (Gills haiku name) composed about a hundred of his own to help fill out gaps in the metaphorical museum. For many if not most modern haiku taken from the web, it is also their first time in print! Fourth, it is a book of metaphor. How may we arrange hundreds of poems on a single theme? Gill divides them into 21 main metaphors, including the Cold Sea Slug, the Mystic Sea Slug, the Helpless Sea Slug, the Slippery Sea Slug, the Silent Sea Slug, and the Melancholy Sea Slug, giving each a chapter, within which the metaphors may be further subdivided, and adds a 100 pages of Sundry Sea Slugs (scores of varieties including Monster, Spam, Flying, Urban Myth, and Exploding). Fifth, it is a book on haiku. E ditors usually select only the best haiku, but, Gill includes good and bad haiku by everyone from the 17th century haiku master to the anonymous haiku rejected in some internet contest. This is not to say all poems found were included, but that the standard was along more taxonomic or encyclopedic lines: poems that filled in a metaphorical or sub-metaphorical gap were always welcome. Also, Gill shows there is more than one type of good haiku. These are new ways to approach haiku. Sixth, it is a book on translation. There are approximately 2 translations per haiku, and some boast a dozen. These arearranged in mixed single, double and triple-column clusters which make each reading seem a different aspect of a singular, almost crystalline whole. The authors aim is to demonstrate that multiple reading (such as found in Hofstadters Le Ton Beau de Marot) is not only a fun game but a bona fide method of translating, especially useful for translating poetry between exotic tongues. Seventh, it is a book of nature writing, natural history or metaphysics (in the Emersonian sense). Gill tried to compile relevant or interesting (not necessarily both) historical -- this includes the sea slug in literature, English or Japanese, and in folklore -- and scientific facts to read haiku in their light or, conversely, bringor wring out science from haiku. Unlike most nature writers, Gill admits to doing no fieldwork, but sluggishly staying put and relying upon reportsfrom more mobile souls. Eighth, it is a book about food symbolism. The sea cucumber is noticed by Japanese because they eat it; the eating itselfinvolves physical difficulties (slipperiness and hardness) and pleasures from overcoming them. It is also identified with a state of mind, where you are what you eat takes on psychological dimensions not found in the food literature of the West. Ninth, it is a book about Japanese culture. Gill does not set out to explain Japan, and the sea slug itself is silent;but the collection of poems and their explanations, which include analysis by poets who responded to the author's questions as well has historical sources, take us all around the culture, from ancient myths to contemporary dreams. Tenth, it is a book about sea cucumbers. While most species of sea cucumbers are not mentioned and the coverage of the Japanese sea cucumber is sketchy from the scientific point of view, Gill does introduce this animal graced to live with no brain thanks to the smart materials comprising it and blessed for sucking in dirty sediment and pooping it out clean. Eleventh, it is a book about ambiguity. Gill admits there is much that cannot be translated, much he cannot know and much to be improved in future editions, for which purpose he advises readers to see the on-line Glosses and Errata in English and Japanese. His policy is to confide in, rather than slip by the reader unnoticed, in the manner of the invisible modern translator and allow the reader to makechoices or choose to allow multiple possibilities to exist by not chosing.Twelfth, the book is the first of dozens of spin-offs from a twenty-book haiku saijiki (poetic almanac) called In Praise of Olde Haiku (IPOOH, for short) Gill hopes to finish within the decade. Thirteenth. The book is a novelty item. It has a different (often witty) header (caption) on top of each page and copious notes that are rarely academic and oftehumorous.
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