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BOOK REVIEW: The Haiku Handbook by William J. Higginson

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The Haiku Handbook: How to Write, Teach, and Appreciate HaikuThe Haiku Handbook: How to Write, Teach, and Appreciate Haiku by William J. Higginson
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

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Many people think that a haiku is any poem of three lines consisting of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, respectively. Those who’ve gotten beyond a high school literature class introduction to the form may also know that these poems are usually observations of the nature world, and, specifically, the seasons. If the preceding sentences sum up haiku for you, but you’re interested in learning more, Higginson’s book will revolutionize your understanding of the art.

As it happens, the most fundamental notions about what makes up a haiku are actually more contentious than one might believe. Take the 17-syllable format. Japanese syllables are—on average—much shorter than English syllables. (e.g. Consider that “squirreled” is one syllable, whereas a long Japanese syllable would be “shi.”) For this reason, many have argued that to have the same sparse sound quality of Japanese haiku, English language haiku should follow a format that is less than 17 syllables. Also, while many people know that haiku are poems about nature, they might not make the connection to the purely descriptive (non-analytical / non-judgmental) approach or the art form. There’s a definite connection between haiku and the Zen mode of thought. The fact that the poems are sensate descriptions doesn’t mean they shouldn’t evoke emotion; on the contrary, they should be evocative on a primal level.

Be the preceding paragraph as it may, Higginson sketches out the evolution of haiku from the traditional greats (e.g. Bashō, Buson, Issa, and Shiki) to modern haiku poets both from Japan and from the rest of the world. The many examples provided offer the reader insight into how various poets have bent and broken the rules of haiku to achieve their own ends. There are, of course, some who wish to keep the form as true to the tradition as possible. Such individuals would like those who want to get unconventional to avoid using the term haiku (or terms for related traditional forms, e.g. “tanka.”) Others, want the freedom to take the art in new and unconventional directions.

The book consists of 16 chapters divided into four parts. The first part charts the evolution of haiku from the early masters to the modern age. The second part gets into the nitty-gritty of composing haiku, and it’s where one will learn about the various thoughts on the form and content of these poems. (Those wanting to learn the craft of writing haiku are directed specifically to chapters 8 and 9, which address the key elements nicely.) The third part is about teaching haiku, and specifically how to introduce it to children in a way that is much more effective than the usual teaching method (i.e. “Hey, kids, a haiku is a poem with 17 syllables arranged in three lines of 5 – 7 – 5 syllables.”) The fourth and final part puts haiku into a context of lesser known, but related, forms of Japanese poetry such at renga, tanka, and senryu. In other words, it reflects on the forms that predated or sprung from haiku. The book also has front and post matter that readers may find useful, including explanations of Japanese pronunciation (the Japanese poems usually feature the Romanized spelling out of the Japanese words as well as an English translation), a list of season words, a glossary, and bibliographic references.

I’d recommend this book for readers and / or writers of haiku who want to learn more about the craft and its progression as an art form. There’s scarcely a page in the book that doesn’t offer example haiku to help make the author’s points more clearly. One needn’t worry that this will be dull exposition that can only help to kill one’s love of haiku. I found the book to be readable and the examples to be well-chosen.

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BOOK REVIEW: Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

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Things Fall Apart (The African Trilogy, #1)Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

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Things Fall Apart is about a man who conducts his life ever trying to distance himself from his father. In the process, he sows the seeds of his own destruction. Residing in the small (fictional) Nigerian village of Umuofia in the late 19th century, Okonkwo strives to be hyper-masculine in everything he does. As a young man he becomes a village wrestling champion and, when it comes time to start farming, he’s driven to be the best farmer possible in order to pay off his debts and to be as wealthy as possible. He feels that his father, who was constantly in debt and negligent in his familial duties, was weak and effeminate. On the one hand, Okonkwo’s drive is respect worthy, but, on the other, his need to appear strong in the extreme comes off as a bit pitiful.

There are a couple of crucial events in Okonkwo’s life in which his need to appear manly results in great inner distress. The first occurs when it’s determined that a young man who’s been staying with Okonkwo’s family must be killed. (The young man was sent to Umuofia as a settlement for a wrong between the young man’s father and an Umuofia resident.) Okonkwo has been a father to the young man. Even when a village elder tells Okonkwo to have no part in the killing owing to being like a father to the boy, Okonkwo feels he must participate lest he be seen as effeminate. Of course, Okonkwo is wracked with guilt because he murdered a boy who’d been like a son to him. Later, an accidental discharge of Okonkwo’s firearm kills an innocent young man. The worst part of this for Okonkwo is that an accidental killing is seen as a “woman’s offense.” As punishment, Okonkwo and his family are sent in exile on another village for seven years. Okonkwo isn’t so much torn up by killing another innocent as by the fact that the way it happened makes him look girly in the eyes of others—or so he believes.

Besides the character portrait of Okonkwo, the book is also a commentary on the nature of colonialism and proselytizing missionaries. The first part of the book is set in a pre-colonial state, but in the latter half the rapidly developing tensions between the missionaries and the local villagers is featured. When Okonkwo and his family return to Umuofia after seven years, he finds that white men have built a church and are actively seeking to turn the villagers away from the indigenous beliefs. Of course, for Okonkwo this is just too much, and he can’t believe others are putting up with this. (Adding to his torment is the fact that his son is one of the converts—possibly because that son himself wants to distance himself from the father who murdered his best friend [the boy from the other village.]) Okonkwo is ultimately unable to tolerate that the world has become something so different from what he believes is right, and to continue living means to steer away from the path that he has locked his life into.

This short and thought-provoking book is a great window into pre-colonial Africa and the clash of worldviews that colonization brought. It’s also a cautionary tale about not having sympathy for the failings of one’s father—not to mention the weakness inherent in our own humanity.

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BOOK REVIEW: Anno Dracula by Kim Newman

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Anno DraculaAnno Dracula by Kim Newman
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

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Anno Dracula is set in a world subsequent to the events of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. In the world of Anno Dracula, Dracula kills Van Helsing (not the other way round) and becomes more powerful than ever. In fact, the Count has married himself into line to become king. Vampires flourish in the open and their numbers are swelling. But a few of them are being gruesomely murdered. In Newman’s work, the vicious Whitechapel murders attributed to Jack the Ripper target young, “turned” working women of Whitechapel. The killings attract attention and become politically charged. The book’s plot revolves around the investigation by an unlikely duo, Charles Beauregard (human) and Geneviève Dieudonné (Vampire elder), into the murders.

Newman creates a fascinating world that blends not only his own characters (e.g. Beauregard and Dieudonné), but also characters from other popular works set in the 19th century as well as from our own history. Some of these borrowed characters are important to the story, others are mere cameos, and still others are references to the departed or imprisoned. Among the book’s fictional pantheon are those from works by Robert Louis Stevenson, Oscar Wilde, H.G. Wells, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and—of course—Bram Stoker. Bram Stoker lends the critical character of Dr. John Seward to the book, although there are references to most of that book’s major characters. (You’ll miss some connections if you haven’t read Dracula, but you’ll still be able to follow the story.) The next biggest contributor of characters is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Mycroft Holmes, Inspector Lestrade, and Professor Moriarty are all present in the flesh, though the latter plays a small role, and others—including the great detective, himself—are referenced throughout.

Many of the real world characters are literary greats (poets, playwrights, and novelists) including George Bernard Shaw, Lewis Carroll, Alfred Tennyson, and Oscar Wilde. However, also included are political figures, royalty, and—of course—the victims of Jack the Ripper. This mixing of the literary and historical worlds lures book-lovers further down the rabbit hole.

If this book seems like a murder mystery, it’s not. One of the interesting elements of Newman’s approach is that he reveals the killer from the outset. While we know who the killer is from the book’s opening, we don’t know whether or how he will be brought to justice—or what precisely justice means in this case. The book is more about the web of intrigue that surrounds the murders than it is about the murders. Ultimately, the book takes in a much bigger picture than a few murders in the seedy side of London.

Anno Dracula is intriguing and readable. If one has read Dracula, the various Sherlock Holmes stories, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Island of Dr. Moreau, and other contemporary literature, it’s all the more enjoyable for the way it artfully places these all in the same universe. I’d highly recommend this book for readers of the classic popular fiction.

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BOOK REVIEW: Hotel Iris by Yoko Ogawa

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Hotel IrisHotel Iris by Yōko Ogawa
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

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Hotel Iris follows a Japanese girl’s dangerous liaisons with a mysterious older man. Unlike 50 Shades of Grey, with which Ogawa’s novel shares the theme of a young woman’s introduction into a sadomasochistic relationship, the female lead, Mari, is attracted to a man who isn’t handsome, rich, or successful. Mari’s motivations are more intriguing and complex. This makes her relatable to a smaller demographic, but potentially more interesting to a much larger one.

As I fear I’ve made this book sound like hard-core erotica (i.e. word porn,) I should point out that it’s really character-driven literary fiction. There are only a couple of scenes that involve sexual activity—granted those are intense and graphic. However, what readers who stay with this short book are seeking to understand is what about this young woman’s life creates such an attraction for an old man who—in conjunction with the prostitute he hired—gets kicked out of the hotel at which Mari works. Mari’s motivation is far from obvious, and thus the reader is left trying to assemble a puzzle.

The biggest piece of this puzzle may be that Mari’s beloved father passed away years before, leaving her in both the care and employ of her over-protective and cold mother. The Hotel Iris is a small seaside hotel of a middling nature in an area that thrives or dives at the whim of tourists. Mari’s parents had owned the hotel, but now it’s just her mom. Mari, her mother, and one housekeeper share the workload. Mari’s mother believes the customer is always right, but she also has questionable morals in dealing with customers (i.e. if she can get away with cheating them, she will.)

In addition to trying to figure out what drives Mari, the reader also wants to learn whether the girl will make it through alright. The man she is having a dalliance with, who we know as “the translator” because he translates from Russian to Japanese and vice versa, is painted as an unsavory character. But the reader doesn’t know whether he’s a mostly harmless pervert or a killer with a cabin on a remote and scantly-populated island. He has dark appetites, but how tight his grasp on reality is remains uncertain.

I found this book to be highly readable. It’s short, well-written, and keeps the reader questioning. The Japanese penchant for grotesquerie is an unabashed feature of the book. I’d recommend it… just not for your church’s book club.

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BOOK REVIEW: The Sky Unwashed by Irene Zabytko

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The Sky UnwashedThe Sky Unwashed by Irene Zabytko

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

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The Sky Unwashed is a character-driven novel, telling the story of an elderly pensioner residing a few miles from the ill-fated Chernobyl nuclear plant. The protagonist’s name is Marusia, and she lives with her beaten-down son Yurko, his cheating wife Zosia, and the dysfunctional couple’s children (her grandchildren.)

The first part of the novel is a bit of a slog, though the character portraits of the adult family members may be enough to keep one intrigued if one enjoys being pulled into a dysfunctional Ukrainian village household. (The first part is a bit like “Jerry Springer—Ukraine Edition.”) Zosia’s unfaithfulness provides the main source of tension, but that tension is a quiet one between Marusia and Zosia. Yurko knows about his wife’s infidelity, but doesn’t seem to care–or doesn’t seem to be able to muster the energy to make the appearance of caring. Marusia, on the other hand, is the doting mother who feels that her doofus son could do better, but she bites her lip as she doesn’t feel it’s her place.

It’s the Chernobyl meltdown that kicks the novel into interesting territory. One is shown how tragedy can bring out the best and worst in people. Both Yurko and Zosia have jobs at the plant, but it’s Yurko who’s working when the incident occurs, and it’s he who gets a dose of radiation that will prove lingeringly fatal. Interestingly, the reader isn’t taken into the plant often. We don’t see Yurko fighting the fires, but rather we see the family in the village Starylis. We experience the family first noticing Yurko’s failure to return and then becoming increasingly concerned. We see the family noticing the subtle signs of something gone awry—like air that tastes of pennies.

Starylis’s occupants—including Marusia’s family–are eventually evacuated to Kiev. It’s here that we see how events press the once hostile family together before ultimately tearing them apart. The Zosia we found unpalatable in the first part is now seen in more sympathetic terms. We see her at her best and her worst, and we see that in sum she is a survivor. Her behavior, good and bad, is committed saving the remainder of her family—which is her children.

The truly visceral part of the novel is reached when Marusia opts to move back to Starylis, despite the fact that it’s abandoned. At first, the elderly woman is completely alone. It’s the eerie loneliness of an abandoned place that one once knew as a thriving community. Even the livestock Marusia left behind is long gone. Her daily ritual includes ringing the church bells to let any other stragglers know they aren’t alone. Eventually, she befriends a cat gone feral, and shortly thereafter others begin to trickle back to the village—virtually all of them women.

In retrospect it seems the author might not have been comfortable writing male characters. The only male character of note is Yurko, and he’s by far the most flat of the major characters—that’s probably on purpose and it feels true enough. The only other male character we get to know in any detail is quickly killed off. Given all the male-dominated works of literature, this isn’t necessarily a complaint or a problem—just an observation.

I’d recommend this book for the patient. If you need a hard and fast hook to keep you engaged, you’ll have trouble with this book. However, once one gets into the parts set in Kiev and the abandoned Starylis, you’ll find the book intensely engaging.

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BOOK REVIEW: A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki

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A Tale for the Time BeingA Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

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A struggling novelist named Ruth finds a watertight package containing a Hello Kitty lunchbox washed ashore on an island off the coast of British Columbia. Ruth’s initial assumption is that it’s debris from the March 11, 2011 tsunami that scoured a large swath of coastal eastern Japan out to sea. However, her husband, Oliver, who has more expertise in these matters, tells her that it’s unlikely that the box could cross the Pacific so quickly and that it would be jettisoned out of the currents that consolidate plastic rubbish into large debris fields like the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. When the lunch box’s contents turn out to include a teenage girl’s journal and a number of letters, it seems as though the mystery might be solvable.

The journal is written by a Japanese girl in turmoil named Nao. Nao grew up in American, her father working for a Silicon Valley computer firm until he lost his job. A major factor in Nao’s depression is that she has to return to her ethnic homeland of Japan as a stranger. Her formative years were spent in America, and she is out-of-place in Japan and—as a result—she falls victim to vicious bullying. Furthermore, her father is unable to find a job in Japan and becomes suicidal. The household has to tighten its proverbial belt because Nao’s father, Haruki #2, isn’t working and Nao’s mother has limited earning potential. (FYI: the “#2” refers to the fact that Nao’s father had an uncle for whom he was named who’d been a scholar forced to serve in a kami kaze squad during the war.)

Nao also becomes suicidal, but she is firm in her conviction that she will not fail like her father has done on two occasions. There’s one thing that she must do first and that’s to pen the story of her great-grandmother Jiko. Jiko is a centenarian Buddhist nun and the family matriarch on Nao’s father’s side of the family. Nao stays a summer with Jiko, and the old nun in all her wisdom becomes an anchor in the girl’s tumultuous life. With a level of narcissism appropriate to a teenager, Nao ends up telling us a story that’s more autobiographical than an account of Old Jiko.

A Tale for the Time Being interweaves two storylines. One line is Nao’s journal entries and letters from the lunchbox. The other line is Ruth’s journey as she reads the journal and becomes obsessed with discovering more about Nao and her family members. Eventually, Ruth’s investigation turns up information about Haruki #1 and Haruki #2 that Nao apparently didn’t know, and that both Ruth and the reader hope the girl will learn. Nao comes to idolize Haruki #1 in part because he was committed to his fate as a kami kaze. It’s not that she believed in the kami kaze objective (she identifies more as American than Japanese), but she sees Haruki #1’s commitment in contrast to her father’s behavior. Nao’s myth about her great-uncle turns him into a counterpoint to the father that she loves but thinks a pathetic loser. In a way, this novel is a cautionary tale about drawing conclusions about the virtues and vices of others without knowing their whole story.

Ozeki does a great job of creating characters multi-dimensional enough for us to become intrigued by. Just as Ozeki has her same-named secondary protagonist, Ruth, sitting on the edge of the seat wanting to find out what happened to Nao and her family, we—too–are pulled into that mystery. The challenging approach of weaving Ruth’s story into the journal’s contents works well.

Ozeki hints that there may be something supernatural about the world in which her characters inhabit. There’s a member of a species of crow that shouldn’t be on the American side of the Pacific who shows up at about the same time as the lunch box. Also, we can’t tell whether some of Nao’s stories are the wishful delusions of a tormented girl or whether they reflect some kind of subtle magic. It’s a similar approach to that of other literary fiction authors such as Haruki Murakami.

I’d recommend this novel. It’s gripping and readable.

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BOOK REVIEW: After Dark by Haruki Murakami

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After DarkAfter Dark by Haruki Murakami

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

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[Note to readers unfamiliar with Tokyo: There are a couple of facts about the city that one must understand for this book to make sense. First, while Tokyo is a city that’s always moving, the trains don’t run between roughly midnight and five am (your results may vary by station.) Second, because many people live far out in the suburbs and the cost of living is high, taxis aren’t an option for much of the population. These two facts add up to a slew of business for those industries that cater to the population caught out “after dark” (i.e. after the trains stop running–not after sundown) including: all-night diners, love hotels, c-stores, bars, pachinko parlors, bowling alleys, and manga bookstores.]

This novel takes place in Tokyo during the wee hours of a single night. Murakami satisfies a form of voyeuristic impulse by giving us a peek into the lives of a few of the people out and about while the masses are home slumbering, or—at least–whiling away insomnia-ridden hours in the privacy of their own homes.

The protagonist is a young college student named Mari. As she sits in a 24-hour Denny’s reading, Mari immediately triggers curiosity. She isn’t typical of the disheveled, boozy, or garish crowd out “after dark.” In a post-witching hour world of drunken salaryman, micro-miniskirted hostesses, tattooed yakuza gangsters, and nightlife-savvy travelers, the bookish young woman stands out. We soon learn that Mari didn’t miss the last train on accident, but rather is staying out all night on purpose to be out of the house. This further raises the level of intrigue.

In the Denny’s, Mari is approached by a gregarious young man named Takahashi who is grabbing a quick snack before going back to his nighttime hobby of jamming in a jazz band. Takahashi introduces himself as someone who already knows Mari from a party. He’s a couple years older than the young woman, and was a classmate of Mari’s sister, Eri. The party at which he met Mari was mostly attended by kids the age of Eri and himself, and Mari was just along for the ride with her more popular sister.

Eri is another major character in the book, although her mysterious presence is mostly in a sleeping state. Eri, unlike the plain Mari, is drop dead gorgeous, and has been doing modeling jobs since she was a child. Takahashi is but one of the young men infatuated with Eri—though we get the feeling that Takahashi realizes that Eri isn’t in his league. He’s a pragmatist—if begrudgingly so. The rest of the book hinges on this chance encounter between Mari and Takahashi.

Suspicions that the grim hours of circadian disruption are the domain of crime and vice are confirmed when a bulky former female wrestler turned love hotel manager, named Kaoru, rushes into the Denny’s seeking Mari. Kaoru is an acquaintance of Takahashi (who has since left the diner to play jazz) and she is seeking Mari because Takahashi told her that Mari spoke fluent Chinese. A Chinese prostitute was beaten up at the love hotel, the Alphaville, and Kaoru needs to talk to the foreign woman to get to the bottom of the matter. Kaoru’s investigation is in part driven by the fact that the Chinese hooker’s John dashed on the hotel bill, but the former wrestler also has a soft spot for the beaten girl and wants to do the right thing by her—though Kaoru knows the police can’t be involved because the Chinese working girl will, at a minimum, be deported by the authorities, or, worse, be punished by the Chinese mafia who pimp her.

As with a few of Murakami’s other books, this book might be labeled “slipstream.” Slipstream is a genre that blends mainstream literary fiction with supernatural elements / speculative fiction. However, the scenes that aren’t realist generally involve the sleeping Eri in her room by herself. So, it may be that Murakami is just conveying the hazy and illusory world of sleep and life at the edge of sleep. I’ll leave it to the reader to make their own interpretations of this. There are also coincidences that could strain credulity, but this may just be an attempt to convey that the world of Tokyo “after dark” is a small pond.

I’d highly recommend this novel. Murakami gives us likable characters and one can see why said characters are draw to each other despite their very different existences. Then he puts them into situations that demand resolution. It’s a short, readable, and interesting novel.

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BOOK REVIEW: Crow with No Mouth: Ikkyu Translated by Stephen Berg

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Crow With No Mouth : Ikkyu : Fifteenth Century Zen MasterCrow With No Mouth : Ikkyu : Fifteenth Century Zen Master by Ikkyu

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

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Ikkyū Sōjun was the Howard Stern of Zen masters. Born in 1394, he lived through most of the 15th century. Ikkyū served as a temple’s abbot for less than two weeks before he quit in disgust, vowing to move into a red-light district—apparently he wanted to live among people he found more honest and less hypocritical. The Zen master despised the corruption and snobbery of monastic politics.

Crow with no Mouth is a collection of Ikkyū’s verse, which is largely in the Zen tradition–featuring natural subjects and simple wisdom in a sparse style. Of course, as per my comments in the preceding paragraph, there are a few poems on topics such as cunnilingus and debauchery—so it’s not what one would call a child-friendly collection (unless one enjoys explaining the sexual exploits of a lecherous monk to one’s child.) The more explicit poems may seem like a diversion from the Zen path, but perhaps not. Maybe Ikkyū offered them as a way to train the mind, to observe one’s reaction to shocking commentary as a means of changing one’s way of thinking.

A few of my favorite lines of a more traditional nature include:

-“you can’t make cherry blossoms by tearing off petals to plant; only spring does that”

-“sometimes all I am is dark emptiness; I can’t hide in the sleeves of my own robes”

-“it’s logical: if you’re not going anywhere any road is the right one”

-“the edges of the sword are life and death; no one knows which is which”

-“even in its scabbard my sword sees you”

-“a flower held up twirled between human fingers; a smile barely visible”

-“in war there’s no time to teach or learn Zen; carry a strong stick; bash your attackers”

Here are a few of those jarring lines that I mentioned above:

-“that stone Buddha deserves all the bird shit it gets”

-“all koans just lead you on but not the delicious pussy of the young girls I go down on”

-“ten fussy days running this temple all red tape; look me up if you want o in the bar whorehouse fish market”

-“my dying teacher could not wipe himself; unlike you disciples who use bamboo; I cleaned his lovely ass with my bare hands”

-“don’t hesitate get laid that’s wisdom; sitting around chanting, what crap”

-“who teaches truth? good/bad the wrong way; Crazy Cloud knows the taste of his own shit” [Crazy Cloud was Ikkyū’s name for himself.]

When he left the monastery, Ikkyū shredded the certificate that served as his monastic credential. Some of his students found it, and pieced it back together. That led to the following verse:

-“one of you saved my satori paper I know it piece by piece; you pasted it back together; now watch me burn it once and for all”

Ikkyū’s verse asks us to reevaluate what it means to be sacred or profane. The orthodox view would be that Ikkyū fell from the sacred life of a monk. However, Ikkyū tells us that one can degrade what is important by raising the wrong things to sacred status. Conversely, some of what we believe to be profane is just rooted in habitual and ill-reasoned ways of thinking.

I’d recommend this work for those who love the spare form of Japanese poetry, and who don’t mind a hard jolt to their psyche occasionally.

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READING REPORT: February 27, 2015

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I finished three books this week.

Antifragility

The first of these is Antifragile, the latest offering by Nassim Nicholas Taleb, whom you may know from Black Swan and Fooled by Randomness fame. While it’s his latest book, it came out a couple of years ago and I started it over a year ago.  The premise is that some entities become stronger when exposed to stressors and disorder,  and there are ways to nurture this tendency to be antifragile. While the ideas and many of the examples are fascinating, I put it down for a long time because Taleb is prone to rambling diatribes. After about the 1oooth time reading about how much he loathes the 98% of professors (we get it already), you may be ready to set it down as well.  [To be fair, Taleb probably gets a hundred death threats a year from enraged social science scholars whose life’s work will appear ridiculous to anyone who understands the gist of Taleb’s arguments in this and his preceding two books.] Taleb is a first-rate thinker who has delivered some very important messages about the misapplication of statistics, I’m not sure why he feels compelled go all Howard Stern about it–though it does probably sell a few extra copies and I suspect he is genuinely that way.

 

 

pyjamagameMark Law’s The Pyjama Game is in part a micro-history of the martial art and sport of judō, and in part is an accounting of his own experiences in taking up judō at the ripe age of 50. For me the history and evolution of judō is where the book is at its most interesting. However, if you don’t have any martial arts experience–or even if you don’t have any grappling-centric training experience–you may find Law’s discussion of testing and randori (free form training, the grappling equivalent to sparring) intriguing, or invaluable if you’re considering taking up judō, jujutsu, or sambo.

 

mantraSherlockHolmesThere is apparently a cottage industry of writers putting out their own Sherlock Holmes novels, and–in particular–writing about Holmes’s gap years. For those unfamiliar with the literary history of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, at one point he got sick of writing these crime fiction novels and killed off Sherlock Holmes. However, there was such a clambering for the master detective that Doyle resuscitated Holmes. These gap years in which Holmes was believed dead have proven fertile soil for writers who wish to write their own spin on where Holmes went and what he did when he was traveling incognito. I saw a press post for a new one the other day in which Holmes goes to Japan. The Mandala of Sherlock Holmes, however, speculates that Holmes traveled to Bombay, and from there to Tibet and eventually to Shangri La. It’s an intriguing premise and offers some good travelogue type description of setting–however as a story it’s not as artfully executed as the Arthur Conan Doyle books.

 

I bought four books this week, two of which–in part–because they’ll help me complete the Book Riot 2015 Read Harder Challenge, which I will talk about below.

 

Dinosaurs_wo_Bones

Admittedly, I bought this book, Dinosaurs Without Bones,  not because the subject jumped out at me (though I’m sure it will prove thrilling) but rather because I knew the author about a billion years ago (I know; I should take geological time more seriously when mentioning a book of this subject.) At any rate, we trained at the same martial arts school in Atlanta, Georgia. That disclaimer being made, the topic looks fascinating and I’m eager to learn more about paleontological detective work.

 

GoldfinchThe Goldfinch won the 2014 Pulitzer Prize for Literature, and so it meets an unchecked requirement for the Book Riot Challenge (recent award winner of one of the major literary prizes.) Honestly, if it weren’t for my desire to complete the challenge, I might have read Tartt’s The Secret History first. The latter books seems a little more up my alley, but I”m eager to see what this critically acclaimed novel has to offer. If it’s engaging, I’ll go back and pick up her first novel.

 

AMillionShadesofGray

No A Million Shades of Gray isn’t a mommy porn book 20,000 times more intense than E.L. James’ book. On the contrary, it’s an intriguing YA book about a teenage elephant handler who escapes into the jungle with his elephant to escape war-torn Vietnam. This book will hit on an unchecked category on the Book Riot Challenge (i.e. YA book)

 

Life of Pi

Life of Pi is a book that I intended to read long before the movie came out, but still haven’t gotten around to it. It was cheap on Kindle, and so I picked it up. I’ve seen the movie, so it’ll be interesting to compare, given how visual the movie was.

 

I’m almost halfway through the Book Riot 2015 Read Harder Challenge. The 19 books I’ve completed thus far this year include books in 11 of the 24 categories, including:

 

3.) Short story collection or anthology: a.) 999: New Stories of Horror and Suspense, and b.) I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream

 

6.) By someone of another gender: a.) Tears in Rain, and b.) Principles of Tibetan Medicine

 

7.) Takes place in Asia: a.) Quarantine in the Grand Hotel, and b.) The Mandala of Sherlock Holmes

 

10.) A micro-history: Yoga Body: The Origins of Modern Postural Practice

 

12.) A science fiction novel: a.) Tears in Rain, b.) The Martian

 

17.) A collection of poetry: Leaves of Grass

 

18.) A book that was recommended: Key Muscles of Hatha Yoga

 

19.) A book originally published in another language: a.) Tears in Rain (Spanish), b.) Quarantine in the Grand Hotel (Hungarian)

 

20.) A graphic novel or comic book collection: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (Vol. 1)

 

23.) A book published in 2014: The Martian

 

24.) A self-improvement / self-help book: Zen Mind, Strong Body

 

BOOK REVIEW: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (Vol. 1) by Alan Moore

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The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Vol. 1The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Vol. 1 by Alan Moore

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Amazon page

For those unfamiliar with this series or the movie featuring Sean Connery, this graphic novel assembles a team of heroes from 19th century science fiction and adventure novels. Specifically, the team includes: Mina Harker (of Bram Stroker’s Dracula), Allan Quatermain (of H. Rider Haggard’s King Solomon’s Mine series), Captain Nemo (of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and other Jules Verne novels), Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde (of the Robert Louis Stevenson novel featuring their names), and Hawley Griffin (of the H.G. Wells novel, The Invisible Man.) The team’s principle nemesis is Professor James Moriarty of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes series.

Interestingly, this book follows the same general plot progression as the movie, but is much different in tone, settings, and character details. The plot progression of which I refer is that the team is assembled (with no small amount of mutual animosity) and they bond into a team as they face a grandiose threat of steampunk industrialization run amok. That plot progression aside, you’ll find an entirely different story otherwise. First, those who favor gender equality will appreciated that Mina Harker is in a leadership role in this volume, the role played by Quatermain in the movie. (That being said, this isn’t a group of individuals who take readily to being led.) Second, those who like darker, grittier tales will find this book more appealing than the movies. Allan Quatermain is found by Harker wasted in an opium den. Griffin is captured after having moved into a girl’s school to use his invisibility to lecherous advantage and the head mistress of said school is decidedly dominatrix like. I generally liked the grittier tone better, though it was hard to reconcile Griffin’s abhorrent behavior with heroism—anti-heroes are a challenge, particularly one who can disappear at will. Third, the team in the book is smaller and more manageable, with the movie having taken on two more characters (Dorian Gray and Tom Sawyer.) Finally, the book doesn’t get around so much. The movie features at least four major settings—not counting the high seas, but the book takes place mostly in Victorian London.

You don’t have to have read all the classic works from which the characters derive to get the story, but it does make it a little more fun. (Yes, I realize that I’m using “classic” for books–some of which–were considered the pulp fiction of their day. However, if your book is still in print after 100 years, I’d say you deserve the status and respect.) Those who’ve read the books will get some subtleties that aren’t critical to the story but are kind of nifty. That being said, don’t expect the characters to match their originals perfectly. The novels covered are wide-ranging, some rely on supernatural elements and others are more realistic, some are futuristic while others reflect the times more accurately. One can’t bring all these individuals into one world and have them be exactly as they were in their original domains.

There are some extra features at the end including a short story featuring a time traveling Allan Quatermain and some art from the series.

I’d recommend this book for those who read comics and graphic novels—especially if they’ve read the stories of at least a few of the 19th century characters. (If you haven’t read any of the novels, you should probably go back and hit some classics before you read anything else. Just my opinion.) It’s an intriguing concept, and it’s done well.

The movie trailer is here.

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