foggyreads

by Hiroaki Sato (2018)

2024 reads, 14/22

On Haiku is a collection of previously written essays by Hiroaki Sato on the art and history of haiku. Although not straightforward nonfiction, the organization of these essays brings about a naturally flowing and cohesive text on one of the most famous and down-to-earth poetic forms.

“In simplest terms, haikai [the predecessor of haiku] meant rejection of poetic diction and adoption of language in daily use. Orthodox court poetry did not tolerate references to quotidian, down-to-earth things like shiru, "soup," and namasu, "fish salad," so incorporating daily elements was haikai.”

This is probably more of an “intermediate” text on Haiku… if such a thing even exists. There is really no introductory chapter or definitions to ground you as you read, and it feels like Sato assumes you are somewhat familiar with haiku masters, e.g., Bashō, Issa, and Shiki. Furthermore, he drops a lot of Eastern history and philosophy which can be daunting (especially as someone with a limited education on this topic). But nowhere does Sato come off as a know-it-all, in fact his tone is very conversational and light – albeit opinionated – as he shares his knowledge.

Sato not only analyzes haiku, renga, and haibun (among other Japanese literary forms), but discusses the historical and societal context in which they were written. This connection of haiku to other facets of Japanese culture enhances haiku analysis, such as in the essay Issa and Hokusai. Here, Sato compares haiku poet Issa to ukiyo-e artist Hokusai, creator of the collection Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji (which contains the famous painting The Great Wave off Kanagawa). Both had a similar upbringing, and used that to exaggerate different perspectives in their work.

“O snail Climb Mount Fuji But slowly, slowly!”

- Issa While translated haiku are beautiful on their own, understanding the context of their translation generates a new appreciation, and I’m glad Sato spent time on it. I learned that many hiragana and kanji characters in Japanese are used for their double meaning, or almost pun-like function, in haiku – but someone who is unfamiliar with the language and culture (me) would not understand the poet’s intention behind the words. It’s not unlike having a joke explained to you, but in this case, none of the magic is lost. One of my favorite essays, Hearn, Bickerton, Hubbell: Translation and Definition, deals with this topic. Sato starts with five different translators’ versions of Bashō's famous frog-pond haiku:

“Old pond — frogs jumped in — sound of water”

“A lonely pond in age - old stillness sleeps . . . Apart, unstirred by sound or motion . . . till Suddenly into it a lithe frog leaps.”

“Into the calm old pond A frog plunged — then the splash.”

“Breaking the silence Of an ancient pond, A frog jumped into water — A deep resonance.”

“An old pond A frog jumping Sound of water”

How do five different translations come from the same written Japanese language? It’s really interesting stuff, and goes to show how translation between languages is itself an art.

Not only is this a collection of essays worth coming back to, but On Haiku is also a great reference book – not only are there a glossary of terms and a list of important people at the end, but each essay contains a wealth of information for further reading. Definitely worth reading if you are interested at all in haiku, or Japanese literature/history.

#readingyear2024 #poetry #history #physicallyowned

by Phillip K. Dick (1977)

2024 reads, 15/22

Not really sure where to start with this one – Philip K. Dick (PDK for short), arguably one of the best science fiction writers of all time, has been on my to-read list for years. In fact, it’s surprising that I haven’t read anything by him yet, especially since Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? is the inspiration for my favorite movie, Blade Runner. But I digress – we’ll get to that review soon enough.

A Scanner Darkly is a dystopian sci-fi novel set in 1994 California, in an alternate timeline where America has lost the war on drugs. Dealers, users, and federal agents are all intertwined in one another’s lives, and the existence of “scramble suits,” a body suit that conceals one’s identity, only complicates matters. Bob Arctor is an undercover narcotics agent investigating users such as Jim Barris, Ernie Luckman, and Charles Freck, whose house is bugged with “scanners” for Arctor’s alter-ego to surveil.

“Does a passive infrared scanner like they used to use or a cube-type holo-scanner like they use these days, the latest thing, see into me—into us—clearly or darkly? I hope it does, he thought, see clearly, because I can’t any longer these days see into myself.”

I’m slightly reminded of other counterculture novels, e.g., One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest or Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas; any of the works of Kesey, Leary, and HST between the beats and the hippies. Barris even recites Leary’s catchphrase as a sign-off: “Turn on, tune out, and good-by.” But where those novels focus on the actual use or psychedelics of drugs, A Scanner Darkly focuses more on the consequences of repeated drug use.

The concept of the “scramble suit” is also intriguing; as readers, we know who Arctor and his alter ego are, but I was left wondering about the identities and motives of the other characters. How do they fit into this mess? What exactly is Arctor looking for? The idea of double lives is pervasive throughout this novel, both in a temporal and spatial sense, and adds to the haziness.

“There she was, stable and as if forever; then—nothing. Vanished like fire or air, an element of the earth back into the earth. To mix with the everyone-else people that never ceased to be. Poured out among them. The evaporated girl, he thought. Of transformation. That comes and goes as she will. And no one, nothing, can hold on to her.”

This book was amazing and heartbreaking at the same time, and made me immediately pick up my next PKD book. For anyone looking to get into PKD, or just wanting to read a science fiction classic, this is a great one to go with.

P.S. The movie did a great job capturing not just the confusing nature of the novel, but also remained pretty faithful to the book. Worth the watch!

#readingyear2024 #scifi #dystopia #wtf #pkd #book2screen

by Cixin Liu (2010)

2024 reads, 13/22

“In the eternal night of the Orion Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy, two civilizations had swept through like two shooting stars, and the universe had remembered their light.”

Again, keeping this review fairly light since it hinges on the events of the previous two novels in the trilogy. But man, oh man, what a way to end. This series will destroy you, and then put you back together again.

The story has evolved from Ye Wenjie first making contact with the Trisolarans, to the fate of the earth, the solar system, and the entire universe. Through space exploration, theoretical physics, and even fairy tales, Liu manages to weave a well-crafted story with scary sci-fi and hope for humanity. Apparently there’s lots of fan-written material out there for those who felt that this story was incomplete – but I didn’t feel that way at all, it ended exactly how it should have.

I really enjoyed the characters as well – I will be thinking of the story of Cheng Xin and Yun Tianming for a long time to come. Thomas Wade and 艾AA are also enjoyable to read as well, and they both complement Cheng Xin’s humanity with fierceness (albeit in different ways).

The Three-Body Problem was the prologue, The Dark Forest was the reaction, and Death’s End is the ultimate conclusion. This is an amazing science fiction trilogy, and I’m so happy that Netflix decided to renew and let the Game of Thrones team finish the series.

“Finally, a chain of organic molecules, trembling, split into two strands. The strands attracted other molecules around them until two identical copies of the original were made, and these split apart again and replicated themselves…. In this game of building blocks, the probability of producing such a self-replicating chain of organic molecules was so minuscule that it was as if a tornado had picked up a pile of metallic trash and deposited it as a fully-assembled Mercedes-Benz. But it happened, and so, a breathtaking history of 3.5 billion years had begun.”

#readingyear2024 #scifi #science #book2screen

by Kurt Vonnegut (1987)

2024 reads, 12/22

“I can remember thinking that war was so horrible that, at last, thank goodness, nobody could ever be fooled by romantic pictures and fiction and history into marching to war again. Nowadays, of course, you can buy a machine gun with a plastic bayonet for your little kid at the nearest toy boutique.”

Been a bit behind on reviews (and reading in general), but I think I’m starting to get back on track. It’s been a busy few months! Starting up again with Vonnegut’s Bluebeard, I actually finished this back in April, but never got around to writing up.

Our main character is (fictional) abstract expressionist painter Rabo Karabekian, and Bluebeard is his autobiography. His parents are survivors of the Armenian genocide, and after moving to America, he serves in WWII and loses an eye. So already, Karabekian has this layered trauma of not just his own experiences in combat, but his inherited survivor’s guilt; he thus says, “everybody who is alive is a survivor, and everybody who is dead isn’t,” and because of this, “everybody alive must have the Survivor’s Syndrome.”

Having lived through the bombing of Dresden as a prisoner of war, Vonnegut is no stranger to violence. These themes of post-war trauma in America permeate through all his novels (that I’ve read so far) in some way, shape, or form; Bluebeard is no different. But another major theme not often seen in Vonnegut’s other works is the morality and subjectivity of art.

Circe Berman, a writer who stays with Karabekian (and the one who encouraged him to write his autobiography in the first place), is a perfect foil for him. She publishes young adult fiction under the pseudonym “Polly Madison” and is constantly belittled by Karabekian. She, in turn, responds that her works are being read all over the world, while the paintings of the abstract expressionists collect dust. Does art need to have a message, or meaning? Does art need a legacy, or can it only have utility in certain moments?

I believe that Karabekian is somewhat modelled after Vonnegut himself; Karabekian is an extremely talented artist, yet chooses to create these abstract paintings in lieu of realistic or “proper” paintings à la Monet or da Vinci, in the same way Vonnegut chooses to use his skills of language and humor to write these absurd sci-fi novels. It may not be a one-to-one analogy, but it can get a little meta. This is all, of course, superbly concluded by the potato barn reveal towards the end (no spoilers!).

“Who is more to be pitied, a writer bound and gagged by policemen or one living in perfect freedom who has nothing more to say?”

Though this isn’t one of Vonnegut’s most famous books, Bluebeard raises some interesting questions about what it means to be an artist, and human, in a postwar, postmodern world.

#readingyear2024 #physicallyowned #postmodern

by Cixin Liu (2008)

2024 reads, 11/22

“The stern of the ship faced the Solar System, where the sun was by now no more than a yellow star just a bit brighter than the rest. The peripheral spiral arm of the Milky Way lay in this direction, its stars sparse. The depth and expanse of deep space exhibited an arrogance that left no support for the mind or the eyes.”

Going to keep this review a bit short, since its plot hinges on the ending of the previous book in the trilogy, The Three Body Problem. But basically, The Dark Forest takes place almost immediately following the events of 3BP, and Liu pulls out all the punches for this one.

While 3BP stood out to me due to its mystery and storytelling, there’s less of this in TDF (since you already know the circumstances of everything going on). However, TDF excels not just in its more in-depth treatment of space sci-fi, but what was more interesting to me was watching humanity deal with the earth-shattering aftermath of 3BP.

“‘When twilight fades, you can see the stars. When dawn fades, all that’s left is…’ ‘All that’s left is the harsh light of reality.’”

While the story starts off a bit slowly, it quickly picks up, and its ending blew me away. At first, I found the new main character Luo Ji hard to like (his first act as Wallfacer was weird), but after some character development I quickly came to enjoy his presence on the page. My favorite character, Da Shi, also makes his return.

I usually end these reviews with who I might recommend the book to, but if you’ve read 3BP, then I don’t need to convince you to read this one. Now it’s time to end the trilogy…

“It’s a wonder to be alive. If you don’t understand that, how can you search for anything deeper?”

Netflix series addendum: I do hope Netflix picks up their 3BP adaptation for a second season. I would love to see some of the ideas in this book put to the big screen, and the Game of Thrones team seems like the ideal duo to undertake this.

#readingyear2024 #scifi #science #book2screen

by Kurt Vonnegut (1965)

2024 reads, 10/22

“E pluribus unum is surely an ironic motto to inscribe on the currency of this Utopia gone bust, for every grotesquely rich American represents property, privileges, and pleasures that have been denied the many.”

Set from the point of view a trust-fund kid who resolves to give away his entire fortune to helping those in need, Vonnegut tells us this heartwarming tale of Eliot Rosewater rebelling against his family to give back to his hometown of Rosewater County, Indiana – and does so in a hilarious way.

I find that with many Vonnegut books, it feels like the thesis of the book is being thrown in your face – but there is so much more nuance when you study the little details. We have third, fourth, and fifth parties involved in Eliot’s rebellion, such as: the lawyers who represent the Rosewater foundation, Eliot’s estranged wife (who isn’t sure what to think anymore), and the distant cousin Fred Rosewater, a middle-class insurance salesman who is trying to get his hands on the money. The interdependence of these parties makes this much more interesting than your basic “rich vs. poor” story.

Vonnegut crafts a novel where the reader is constantly reevaluating and considering who should be getting what. The background and actions of Fred, probably the most interesting character in the story, make you wonder whether he deserves any or all of the money. Another pervasive question constantly posed throughout the book: is Eliot is going about his antics in the right way? Is “antics” even the right word to describe his behavior?

Not only did I find this book to be quite heartwarming, I found myself rooting for Eliot almost all the way through. It’s a pretty short read too, so if you find yourself wanting to read a little Vonnegut without a full commitment, this wouldn’t be a bad choice.

“My life, Mr. Rosewater—you saved it, whatever it is.”

#readingyear2024 #feelgood

by Cixin Liu (2006)

2024 reads, 9/22

“Can the fundamental nature of matter really be lawlessness? Can the stability and order of the world be but a temporary dynamic equilibrium achieved in a corner of the universe, a short-lived eddy in a chaotic current?”

What a wild ride. I don’t read much science fiction, and my only two standouts among those I have read were Neuromancer and Hitchhikers Guide. But The Three-Body Problem now also takes a place at the top of my favorite sci-fi books. And one thing that this book did for me that the others didn’t was encourage me to pick up more sci-fi in the future.

This book is engaging, but be warned, it’s one big prologue; many loose threads and characters come together nicely at the end to form one giant loose thread (so naturally I quickly picked up the second in the trilogy). The Neuromancer-like virtual reality game, the mysterious happenings to scientists around the world, and Operation Guzheng (if you know you know) were standout parts. Da Shi quickly became my favorite character of the book, being comedic relief while consistently saving the day. I also really enjoyed how the classic astrophysics problem of three gravitational bodies related to the plot – it wasn’t clear at first, but I loved the payoff.

“The seed of civilization remains. It will germinate and again progress through the unpredictable world of Three Body. We invite you to log on in the future.”

I actually started reading this before I realized the Netflix adaptation was coming out, which was some incredible timing. The show is great, but as usual, the book gets more involved and takes the time to really flesh out the story. If nothing else, watch the Netflix series, but I do recommend this book for anyone looking for some profound science fiction.

#readingyear2024 #scifi #science #book2screen

by Douglas Copeland (1995)

2024 reads, 8/22

“The stock closed up $1.75 on Friday. Bill has 78,000,000 shares, so that means he’s now $136.5 million richer. I have almost no stock, and this means I am a loser.”

The title of this book tells you all you really need to know – Microserfs, a portmanteau of “Microsoft” and the feudal “serfs,” is about a group of programmers working at Microsoft who take the risk and start their own software company. Really, it’s a nineties version of HBO’s Silicon Valley.

This is an epistolary novel, but instead of a diary or letters, narrator Dan Underwood types all his thoughts in a “PowerBook entry,” filled not just with his day-to-day life, but with random notes and emails, complete with typos and grammatical errors to really give it that “draft word document” feel.

“Note: I think Starbucks has patented a new configuration of the water molecule, like in a Kurt Vonnegut novel, or something. This molecule allows their coffee to remain liquid at temperatures over 212° Fahrenheit. How do they get their coffee so hot? It takes hours to cool off—it’s so hot it’s undrinkable—and by the time it’s cool, you’re sick of waiting for it to cool and that ‘coffee moment’ has passed.”

I was born in 1995, so while I obviously cannot relate to these characters, Coupland does an excellent job of immersing you in this era of young programmers through his skillful incorporation of pop culture references. It’s a nice little slice of the nineties, infused with humor, quirkiness, and heartwarming moments.

“Checked the WinQuote: The stock was down 86 cents over the day. That means Bill lost $70 million today, whereas I only lost fuck all. But guess who’ll sleep better?”

#readingyear2024 #epistolary #humor

by Sarah Bakewell (2016)

2024 reads, 7/22

“The philosopher’s task is neither to reduce the mysterious to a neat set of concepts nor to gaze at it in awed silence. It is to follow the first phenomenological imperative: to go to the things themselves in order to describe them, attempting ‘rigorously to put into words what is not ordinarily put into words, what is sometimes considered inexpressible’.”

In At the Existentialist Café, Bakewell presents a very digestible recount of the events surrounding Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, and the lives of other philosophers in the twentieth century. The first few chapters are dedicated to Husserl and Heidegger, the phenomenologists who paved the way for the existentialists. The chapters then follow a pseudo-chronological order, exploring other philosophers such as Camus, Merleau-Ponty, and Arendt, although mostly in the context of Sartre and Beauvoir’s lives.

I read this book mostly to get the historical context surrounding Camus and Sartre, after reading some of their works. I still want to read a biography solely focused on Camus, but this book was great at providing a much larger picture of philosophy at the time, and how it still influences humanity into the twenty-first century. While a bit dry at times, especially in some of the early chapters, Bakewell expertly breaks down the dense writings of each philosopher so that us non-philosophers can understand.

“Sartre argues that freedom terrifies us, yet we cannot escape it, because we are it.”

If you are interested in this book, I would recommend first reading The Stranger and The Myth of Sisyphus by Camus, and Nausea by Sartre – these books are “spoiled” (depending how you define the word) and analyzed by Bakewell, and her discussion felt more “complete” having already read some of these works.

“The way to live is to throw ourselves, not into faith, but into our own lives, conducting them in affirmation of every moment, exactly as it is, without wishing that anything was different, and without harbouring peevish resentment against others or against our fate.”

#readingyear2024 #bio #history #philosophy #physicallyowned

by Dava Sobel (1995)

2024 reads, 6/22

Some pre-reading before I attempt my next big novel, Mason & Dixon by Thomas Pynchon.

Before the era of satellites and GPS, determining longitude at sea was quite a challenge, so much so that £20,000 (almost half a million in US dollars today) was to be awarded to the person that could come up with a reliable method for doing so. Longitude details the many attempts and final success of this quest.

Except for the meaty parts, this wasn’t the most interesting book, and I felt it could have been cut down a bit (although less than 200 pages is already pretty short). Regardless, it was a quick enough read and gave some great background on both astronomy and navigation in the eighteenth century.

“The zero-degree parallel of latitude is fixed by the laws of nature, while the zero-degree meridian of longitude shifts like the sands of time.”

If you’re interested, this 10-minute YouTube video summarizes the entire story pretty well.

#readingyear2024 #history #science