Lost In Translation

Intyatyambo Community Project Benefit

The Intyatyambo Community Project (ICP) benefit Tuesday the 13th was a great success. Thanks to all the folks who made it down to see Dr. Ruth, Superfunction, and Ernest play at What the Dickens. The picture above is of Superfunction featuring my mate Marcus Pittman on sax. There were well over 100 people in attendance, not sure of the amount of money raised, but it looks like a significant amount.

Lost Japan

I recently read Alex Kerr’s appreciation/criticism of Japan-Lost Japan(1996). I had previously read his more recent expose on what’s wrong with Japan-Dogs and Demons (2002). Despite the fact that there are several recurring themes in both books, I did find a lot of worthy passages in Lost Japan that made it worthwhile to read. It is impressive that this book originally was published in Japanese and won the 1994 Shincho Gakugei Literature Prize. Some of the themes that he has become associated with include: the Japanese lack of respect for the past, the Japanese lack of interest in their own cultural history, the insecurity of their borrowed culture, the self-hate of Kyoto manifested in the futuristic train station design, the limited scope of advocacy groups, the short sight of basic design versus overall design in relation everything, Japanese idea of appearance versus reality, the ugliness of fluorescent lighting, concrete, and telephone lines. Some of these observations are a bit over the top, but I think he has some valid points for sure. He is a bit of an elitist and some observations are a matter of person altaste (the Lyotot train station) while other observations are pretty valid (the lack of buried telephone lines obscuring the sky views). I guess Kerr is at his best when he is describing what he loves about Japan and its culture, as well as recounting his own personal history that led him to become a real-estate broker during the bubble years and late as an art collector and traditional arts advocate. He also has a great understanding and knowledge of the history and cultural traditions. Furthermore, he was able to point out why “Nihonjinron” (which literally means "theories/discussions about the Japanese") is a nefarious practice of study-these discussion usually support why the Japanese are superior to other people of the world.

Curb Your Enthusiasm Season 6 Season Finale

CYE Season Six was a real treat this year and it ended with a great episode this week. Here's a spot on analysis from The AV Club:

One of the great things about Curb Your Enthusiasm is its completeness. With the exception of the first season, each season of the show is self-contained in a way that is more common with TV dramas rather than TV comedies. Yes, the characters (for the most part) remain the same, and many of the themes (Everyone's An Asshole, Including Larry David, But Can You Blame Him?) are consistent throughout the series, but each season follows its own whole, complete, unique arc: The TV Show, The Restaurant, The Producers, The Kidney. Basically, Curb is The Wire of sitcoms.

What this means is that each season finale is a finale in the true sense. It's an end, a culmination, a period on the end of the sentence that is that season. Each season finale of Curb gives the audience the feeling that the show could end right here. There are no cliff-hangers, no major loose ends left untied.

In other words, even though the rumor might be that there are a few more seasons of Curb yet to come, as far as we're concerned, this is the end: Larry is with Loretta, he and The Blacks are a real family, and they're the loudest people at the movies. I, for one, couldn't be more happy with this conclusion. After all, could a season that began with the adoption of a family of hurricane refugees have ended any other way?

Of course, this ending is slightly more open for interpretation than previous season finales. The montage at the end could be seen as happening in Larry's imagination. (Though, that's a cop-out I don't really see Larry David taking.) And then there's Cheryl. Could Larry really go from "Mopey Dick" over her in the beginning, to ignoring her on the dance floor because he's head-over-heels for Loretta at the end? I say yes. I mean, you heard John Legend singing Ray Charles in that scene, right? That is some powerful stuff. With a soundtrack like that, who wouldn't forget all about their annoying (Have I mentioned that I find Cheryl annoying? I find Cheryl annoying.) estranged wife, and fall for the sassy hurricane refugee? Larry David always seemed like the kind of person who would have an ex-wife, anyway. Should the series continue (and I hope it does) I think Cheryl would fill that position very nicely.

Elsewhere in the episode, we were treated to Larry's impression of a retarded person, his adept flirtation techniques ("How am I doing with the flirting?") , many uses of the phrase "tickle in my anus" (which is far superior to the played-out "hemroids"), and more of his long-standing feud with the medical community at large. In terms of supporting players, both Jeff and Richard were great in this episode, as was Michael McKean, but, as always, Leon and his various uses of the word "motherfucker" were hilarious. Hopefully, there will be room for him and his tiny grey half-shirt next season.

Interview: Tom Perotta

The AV Club has an interesting interivew with Tom Perottta, author of the books Election and Little Children that were made into entertaining film adaptations:

A master at spinning bright, highly readable comic novels out of suburban life, Tom Perrotta published his short-story collection Bad Haircut: Stories Of The Seventies in 1994, but it was his first novel, 1997's The Wishbones, about the long-in-the-tooth frontman of a wedding band, that put him on the map. Alexander Payne's film adaptation of Perrotta's then-unpublished manuscript for the political satire Election led to broader recognition, and was the first suggestion of how smoothly his work could survive the translation to the screen. Perrotta followed it up with the semi-autobiographical Joe College, but his critical reputation really took off with 2004's Little Children, a broadly ambitious comedy-drama about suburban malaise that he and co-writer/director Todd Field converted into an Oscar-nominated movie.

Perrotta's latest book, The Abstinence Teacher, delves further into the culture wars of the George W. Bush era, following Ruth, a high-school health instructor forced to change her curriculum, and Tim, a former addict who's found a home in the town's rapidly expanding evangelical church. The book is already well into the film-adaptation process, with Little Miss Sunshine duo Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris slated to direct. Perrotta recently spoke to The A.V. Club about the adventure of writing without a road map, how to engage the culture without getting preachy, and the relationship between his novels and their screen incarnations.

Click here to read the interview.

Cosscultural Complaints

Another interesting report on crosscultural differences between Japanese and Americans from Kate Elwood's Cultural Conundrums column:

While there are no "open sesame" key expressions or approaches, if you will, to getting appropriate reparations when you feel something has been handled badly, and while much relies on the specifics of the situation, researchers have found some interesting differences in the execution of speech for complaints between Japanese and Americans. The applied linguist Yukiko Tokano asked Japanese students to write what they would say in both Japanese and English in nine complaint situations. Then she asked the American students to write in English what they would say in the same situations. The situations included those in which the speaker was of higher status than the hearer, those in which the speaker was of lower status, and those in which the speaker and hearer were of equal status.

Tokano found that in situations in which the speaker of higher status, the Americans were much more likely to clarify the hearer's intention or situation, saying something like, "I'm wondering if you've made any progress on...," an off-record means of indicating responsibility on the part of the hearer. Almost twice as many Americans used this strategy as Japanese writing in Japanese and more than three times that of the Japanese writing in English. Generally, the Japanese writing in both languages was more direct when the speaker was of higher status.

When the hearer was of higher status, as well, about a quarter of the American respondents used the clarification strategy, while few in either Japanese group did. About the same percentage of the Americans also showed consideration, for example, by thanking the hearer for his or her help, a strategy which was also used by the same number of the Japanese writing in Japanese but which was used half as often by the Japanese writing in English. Even though the hearer was of higher status than the speaker, the Japanese in both groups still used a direct request for improvement of the situation often while fewer than half as many Americans did so.

When the two interlocutors were of equal status, all groups frequently asked for improvement directly, yet the Americans were nonetheless not as likely to do so. Here, too, the Americans preferred to clarify the hearer's intention or situation, with about a third using this strategy, slightly more than the Japanese writing in Japanese and three times as frequently as the Japanese writing in English.

As Tokano notes, these results are likely to surprise Japanese learners of English who often have an image of Americans as being very direct. However, the saying "You catch more flies with honey" seems to continue to operate as a basic policy of interaction in many American complaint situations. Tokano asked further follow-up questions of the respondents and found that the Japanese groups felt more hesitation to complain but at the same time wanted the problem fixed as quickly as possible in order to get beyond the uncomfortable situation.

The Known World

The Know World by Edward P. Jones was listed as one of the most important American novels in the last 25 tears years according to an article in the New York Times. I was abashed since I hadn’t even heard of it-it slipped under my radar, despite being an Oprah Book of the Month (not that I’m a huge Oprah fan, but it has cultural significance).  I saw my mother had a copy and asked to borrow it.  It is an impressive sprawling novel about life on the Mason-Dixon line in Virginia just before the turn of the century.  It has historical roots, but it is a supreme work of imagination on the scale of Faulkner with his own made up county full of characters brimming with life.  That is the author most quickly comes to mind, however Jones isn’t as inscrutable in his description of his characters.  This is mainly the story of Henry Townsend a freed slave who takes on his own slaves to run his farm after becoming a freed man.  This was a rare occurrence, but not unheard of.  Jones mines this irony for all it’s worth and manages to create a compelling drama fraught with realistic depictions of fictional characters that come to life on the page.  It is an impressive work of fiction.

Nakamoto Ramen

Ikebukuro has a lot of famous ramen shops, and this one, Nakamoto Ramen, on the West side near Rikkyo University always has a line up. It is famous for having "spicy" ramen. Since I am a devotee of all things spicy I felt obliged to try it out. I went early during lunchtime and still had to line up for a few minutes before getting a counter seat (maybe there are 15 seats total). There were a number of menu options ranging in spiciness from two to five stars. Of course I choose to go with a five star selection, Hokkyoku ramen (literally “Artic”) ramen. I asked my students about this, they had heard of the shop and suggested that the name wasn’t ironic rather what you would eat if you were in a freezing area like the Artic. As I was eating the noodles the outside of my mouth was burning and I had the feeling that I probably shouldn’t drink the soup, but when I ran out of noodles I thought I would give it a try.

I have never experienced anything like what happened next. My esophagus contracted and swelled up and I couldn't breathe for seconds (5? 8?) and I almost lost all of my lunch. I recovered in time to clean up the mess stagger outside to recover from the traumatic experience. I have never tasted anything as spicy as the soup broth. The only possible experience that comes close was the time I ate a hot chili pepper from a private garden at a house party in Seattle, where the dotcommer rich kid living there grew his own chilies. And I had to down like three beers to extinguish the fire in my mouth. Needles to say I won’t be going back anytime soon.

The Frugal Traveler/ Chicago

I have really enjoyed Matt Gross' articles as The Frugal Traveler for The New York Times in the past. This time he's visited Chicago and makes this humorous obsevation:

An hour later, I reached my hotel — or rather, my hostel. Though in general I avoid hostels (often crowded, dirty, uncomfortable), the J. Ira and Nicki Harris Family Hostel looked promising. Situated right in the Loop, the heart of Chicago's business district, it was voted best large hostel (it has 500 beds) in the world by customers of HostelWorld.com in 2006. And two nights in a six-bed room would cost just $77, leaving me plenty of cash to blow on what I was sure would be an expensive city.

But to woo the Frugal Traveler, a hostel must be more than cheap, well situated and popular. In this case, it was the architectural history that sold me. Built in 1886, the hostel is seven stately stories of heavy timber lofts clad in lush red brick, with wide windows facing out onto an El track. Once, it had been a manufacturing center, and had even housed the Encyclopedia Britannica printing presses.

Now, as I could see as I walked through the lobby, past the comfy couches and pool and Ping-Pong tables, it housed the world: a Girl Scout troop, college students, business travelers, foreign tourists and older couples who enjoyed the hostel experience even when other options were within their means.

My fourth-floor room was big and bright — or it would have been, had it not been occupied by three hung over guys who'd lowered the blinds, apparently to sleep all weekend. I saw only one of them awake; he was German and when he wasn't in bed, he was walking around naked. Yup, I was in a hostel.

Interview With Junot Diaz

Several years ago I read Junot Diaz's short story collect Drown, which featured several storeis that appeared in Harper's and The New Yorker, which I thoroughly enjoyed. His new novel The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao sounds really good as well. Here's the intro to Megahan O'Rourke's interview with the author for Slate:

Junot Díaz's fiction is propelled by its attention to the energetic hybridity of American life. His debut, Drown, a collection of stories, dealt with questions of identity and belonging in the lives of his narrators, many of whom were young Dominicans living in New York or New Jersey. At first glance, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, his long-awaited first novel, appears to be a classic bildungsroman: the story of a charming Dominican-American boy who grows up to be an overweight, lonely nerd more intimate with The Lord of the Rings than with the social rings in his high school. But early on, the reader realizes that The Brief Wondrous Life is equally a story about the depredations of dictatorship and a powerful examination of the nature of authority. The novel is strangely fragmented. What initially appears to be a linear story shatters into accounts of Oscar's family's history, as it was shaped over time by the reign of Rafael Leonidas Trujillo, a dictatorial leader of the Dominican Republic for more than three decades. We come to understand that the form of the book itself resists the singularity of perspective that is often used to establish authority. Last week, Díaz and I corresponded by e-mail about The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao and about writing fiction.

Odakyu Nagayama Station

Odakyu Nagayama (also serviced by Keio Nagayama station) is on the Odakyu Tama line, same as Kurihira where I live, but it is technically Tama city, Tokyo. The western suburbs make Tokyo huge and this part of Tokyo dips down into Kanagawa prefecture. I had to go to the JAF (Japanese Automobile Federation) to translate my driver's license as part of the process of getting a Japanese driver's license (I'm sure that process will deserve a post of its own).

Anyway, the picture above is of a futuristic looking entertainment center with a public bath (onsen) and bowling alley.

This buidling's design is pretty futurisic-looking as well. There seems to be a lot of parks and greenry in the area despite these modern looking structures near the station.