Distant Disasters

I have a nonfiction story online today over at Trop about my experience during Hurricane Katrina and the Great East Japan Earthquake. I was in Fukushima for Katrina, and in New Orleans for the quake, the tsunami, and the ensuing nuclear disaster. Strange days.

New Orleans and Japan are both defined and cursed by their geographies: Zoom out from the French Quarter, and people unfamiliar with the area are generally shocked by how little land there is in southeastern Louisiana.

neworleans

While certain areas of Japan are farther from quake zones than others, nowhere is immune, and all across the island there are reminders that disaster could strike at any moment.

About half an hour to the east of the town where I lived was the small town of Bandai (磐梯), which is shadowed by Mount Bandai. The mountain is about half the height of Fuji, but it makes for a much prettier climb since it is covered in trees and surrounded by beautiful terrain. I climbed it three times, once every year I taught. The southern face of the mountain is a familiar mountain landscape: green in the summer, brown and white in the winter. It looks out onto Lake Inawashiro, and the Inawashiro ski resort on the skirts of the mountain; the smooth slopes were covered with snow by New Year’s, and more adventurous teachers than myself spent nearly all of their free time zipping down the runs in the winter.

Tankei_-_Eruption_of_Mount_Bandai

The north side was rocky and scarred. On July 15, 1888, three earthquakes hit the region, and shortly after the third, a large volcanic eruption blew out the northern face and resulted in a landslide that covered towns at the foot of the mountain. Nearly five hundred people died. In the place of the destroyed villages and croplands, the eruption created five lakes of all different colors, which is reflected literally in the name of the area: 五色沼 (ごしきぬま). The area is filled with onsen and hiking paths.

Whenever I climbed Bandai, I parked on the south side, took an early bus around the mountain to the lakes, and then hiked up to the top. In certain places, the north side feels like the bottom of an empty riverbed or a forgotten quarry. We scrambled over large rocks making our way to the steeper ascent, which was lined with chains to help climbers. I often wondered if it would blow again, without any warning, as we were climbing.

Hard-boiled Wonderland Emergency Liveblog

The Internet tells me that it’s been nearly two months since I last updated, which means I’ve broken my promise of weekly updates nearly eight times now. First the excuses: thesis, issues at school, issues on the homefront, Mardi Gras. That’s all you’ll hear of them. For the next 6-8 hours, I’ll be doing nothing but reading and noting thoughts here, hopefully every 5-10 pages or so. When I read at pace, I can read 10 pages an hour, but I doubt I’ll be able to keep that up all day. We’ll see how far I get.

First, a quick update on where we are. Just finished pages 65-75, which means I’ve completed Chapter 4. Boku and the librarian have had their initial conversation and encounter. Birnbaum makes a few alterations, which is to be expected, but the one noticeable change is that he cuts the coffee from the scene. In the Japanese, she serves coffee as they talk, and in English they just talk. This seems like an odd cut, especially since it mirrors the coffee in the Hard-boiled Wonderland sections that Watashi drinks with the old man. Perhaps Birnbaum makes the cut so as not to give away the book’s conceit? Would that show that the two worlds are connected more than the paperclips already suggest? At any rate, it doesn’t change the text all that much.

Chapter 5 starts with Watashi laundering the data and the old man gone to un-mute the granddaughter. Only a few sentences cut here: one about the way the scientist eats sandwiches, one line of dialogue from the old man about how he tried calling the granddaughter on the phone to no avail, and the last about Watashi’s reaction to the possibility of a silent conversation with the old man.

And so I start on 76…

12:31: A nice translation by Birnbaum. 生きることは決して容易なことではないけれど、それは私が私自身でやりくりしていることなのだ。(77) In translation, “Life’s no piece of cake, mind you, but the recipe’s my own to fool with.” (51)

A couple of cuts in this area, mostly to decrease repetition on Murakami’s part. Also, one mention of the movie Warlock and Peter Fonda cut. I think I saw Pynchon mention this film somewhere. Anyone seen it? What’s the deal with Warlock?

13:07: Cool compound: 筆談 (ひつだん) – communicate in writing.

13:53: Finished 76-86 in just over an hour, I think, so I’m on pace. Some minor adjustment, and two major changes in this section, which is the end of the laundering and Watashi’s second encounter with the granddaughter.

The first section that’s a little altered is rendered like this by Birnbaum:

It’s been less than ten years since the whole Calcutec profession began, so nobody really knows what that life expectancy ought to be. Some say ten years, others twenty; either way you keep at it until the day you die. Did I really want to know how long? If it’s only a matter of time before you burn yourself out, all I can do is keep my muscles loose and my fingers crossed.

The Japanese is:

計算士という制度は生まれてからまだ十年に充たないので、その職業的寿命がどの程度のものなのかは誰にもわからない。十年と言うものもいるし、二十年と言うものもいる。死ぬまでできると主張するものもいる。早晩廃人になるという説もある。しかしそれはぜんぶ推測にすぎない。私にできるのは二十六個の筋肉をきちんとほぐしておくことだけだ。推測は推測に適した人間にまかせておけばいいのだ。(78)

And a more literal version is:

Less than ten years have passed since the start of the Calcutec system, so no one knows the life expectancy of the profession. Some say ten years, some say twenty. Some brag that they can do it until they die. There’ve also been rumors that sooner or later you burn out. But all of them are nothing more than guesses. All I could do was perform all twenty-six stretches. I’ll let everyone else keep guessing.

Not sure about that last sentence, but you get the point. Birnbaum’s version paints a pretty bleak picture for the Calcutec profession. Murakami’s Japanese suggestions a Calcutec that is not as resigned as in the translation.

14:03: Birnbaum also alters the conversation with the granddaughter to make it a little funnier. On the way to the elevator, she keeps asking questions about the life of a Calcutec, including about sexual practices:

“Grandfather says the first man I sleep with should be over thirty. He also says if sex drive builds up to a particular point, it affects your mental stability.”

“Yes, I heard this from your grandfather.”

“Do you think it’s true?”

“I’m afraid I’m not a biologist.”

“Are you well endowed?”

“I beg your pardon?” I nearly choked.

“Well, it’s just that I don’t know anything about my own sex drive yet,” she explained. “So I’d like to try lots of different things.”

In Japanese, this reads:

「祖父は最初に寝る男は三十五以上がいちばんいいって言ってるの。性欲が一定量以上にたまると頭脳の明晰さが損なわれるんですって」

「その話は君のおじいさんから聞いたよ」

「ほんとうなのかしら?」

「僕は生物学者じゃないからよくわからない」と私は言った。「それに性欲の量は人によってずいぶん違うからそんなに簡単に断言できないと思うね」

「あなたは多い方かしら?」

「まあ普通じゃないかな」と私は少し考えてから答えた。

「私には自分の性欲のことがまだよくわからないの」とその太った娘は言った。「だからいろいろとたしかめてみたいのよ」

As you can see, a pretty radical change. Simplified:

“My grandfather says the first man I sleep with should be over thirty-five. He says that if your libido builds up past a certain point, you lose mental clarity.”

“So I heard from your grandfather.”

“Do you think it’s true?”

“I’m not a biologist, so I’m not sure,” I said. “And libido differs drastically by person, so I can’t really say.”

“Do you have a strong libido?”

“Normal, I guess,” I said after some thought.

“I don’t know my libido yet,” the pudgy girl said. “So I want to try all sorts of things.”

Birnbaum replaces “libido” with a penis joke, basically, making it an easier laugh, but he also cuts the “I said after some thought,” in Watashi’s reaction, making him seem more surprised than he is in Japanese. He’s surprisingly cool headed. He cuts another line earlier in the passage, right after when she asks if he’s gay, where Watashi explains that he doesn’t “blab about his personal life” but neither is he hiding anything, so he answers honestly. Questionable changes here.

14:59: Slight cut in the beginning of Chapter 6 when Boku is learning to read dreams. Boku is frustrated that there is no meaning/point to reading the dreams – he just reads them and that’s it – but in the end he relents and in the translation says, “Please show me” (59). The Japanese is a little different. Here he says 「読むことにするのよ…いずれにせよ、そうする以外に僕には選びようもなさそうだからね」: “I’ll read them. … Because it doesn’t seem like I have any choice.” He’s making much more of a decision than in the translation. That said, Birnbaum does give the translation a pleasant sparseness, which is built with a couple other small cuts as well.

15:26: Just read the phrase そのうちに慣れる and remembered how long it took me to get used to the idea of そのうち meaning “soon enough” or “before long.” I think this was because I was always equating その with “that” and wondering what it was referring to.

15:32: Birnbaum chooses “Drinking in” as the translation for 光を目が吸いこんで. Maybe a little awkward. “Taking in”?

15:42: Note to self: Write something about using んだ as a command. For example, じっとしているんだ: Hold still.

16:08: Strange that I picked the そのうちに慣れる to comment on. It gets repeated in the chapter. First the librarian says it to Boku about reading dreams – he’ll pick it up eventually. Then, at the end of the chapter, Boku compliments the librarian’s hair. She’s not sure what to make of it and says that she’s not used to the way he talks. Boku borrows her phrase from earlier and says that she’ll get used to it soon enough. Birnbaum cuts this final line before a space break on page 64 of the translation and ends instead with the librarian’s final line: “I suppose I am unused to your way of speaking.”

16:25: Just finished Chapter 6, so I’ve completed up to page 97. Most of the cuts in 6 were to get things moving more quickly and provide compression. The only major loss is the そのうち慣れる which I mentioned above. Would’ve been nice to keep that in place. Moving on after I make more tea.

17:06: 何がどうなろうと知るものか。Do you really expect me to know what’s going on?

17:58: I’ve gotten a little sidetracked. Just going to read a few more pages. The most dated part of this book is that Watashi puts the unicorn skull on top of his TV – he has no mantle, nowhere else to put it. This confused even me for a brief moment until I realized that TVs used to be huge.

18:19: Cool Word: 生まれつきの – a born something or other. In this case, a “born shopper.”

18:28: Watashi does some drinking and driving. After shopping in this chapter, he pulls into a family restaurant and has a beer with lunch. He had a beer earlier in the day as well. Anyone know when the zero tolerance laws went into effect? They are pretty intense about them, so I’m surprised to read this here.

Not many changes or cuts here, but I can give one last example of a typical move that Birnbaum makes. Watashi has a small Japanese car he uses exclusively for his shopping trips. When he recounts the time he bought it, the salesman tells him that people who want complicated cars are crazy – small and simple is how cars were meant to be. In Japanese Watashi responds simply: 私もそう思う、と私は言った; I told him that I thought so as well. But Birnbaum uses this opportunity to do character work in the narration: “No argument from me” (72). It’s not much of a change, or is it? It reminds me a little of how Birnbaum translated the end of “Lederhosen.”

Whew. Done for the day. 30 pages in about six hours with breaks to blog, bathroom, and make tea. If I do this a couple of times, I’ll be back on schedule.

Good Ideas

55-65 read and understood. Most of this section was spent in the End of the World, which was awesome. The paragraphs suddenly become longer and denser, and Murakami takes the reader through the buildings of the town for the first time. The text thins out a bit thanks to dialogue once the Librarian gets introduced.

In terms of the translation, I was really interested in some adjustments that Birnbaum makes towards the end of the previous chapter during and after the data laundering process. The old man explains what the data is, how he’ll use it to control sound, and Watashi says that he should be careful that it doesn’t fall into Semiotec hands:

“I know, I know. That’s why I’ve withheld all my data and processes, so they wouldn’t be pokin’ into things. Probably means even the world of science doesn’t take me seriously, but what of that? Tosh, a hundred years from now my theories will all’ve been proved. That’s enough, isn’t it?”

“Hmm.”

“Okay, son, launder and shuffle everything.”

“Yessir,” I said, “yessir.” (35)

At first I thought that this was an egregious translation, but after I typed it out and thought about it for a while, there’s really only one minor part that Birnbaum cuts, and the rest are just “adjustments”:

「その点は私も用心しておるです。だからデータとプロセスはぜんぶ隠して、理論だけを仮説の形で発表する。これなら彼らに読みとられる心配はない。たぶん私は学界では相手にもされんだろうが、そんなことはどうでもいいです。百年後に私の理論は証明されるですし、それだけで十分というもんです」

「ふーむ」と私は言った。

「そういうわけで、すべてはあんたの洗いだしとシャッフルにかかっておるですよ」

「なるほど」と私は言った。 (28)

My humble version:

“I’ve also been keeping that point in mind. Which is why I’m concealing the data and processes; I’ll only be announcing it in theoretical form. Then there’ll be no way they can decipher it. The academics will probably come after me as well, but who cares about that. In a hundred years all my theories will’ve been proven, and that’ll be enough.”

“Hmm,” I said.

“So it’s all up to your laundering and shuffling, ya see.”

“That figures,” I said.

The only line cut (which I’ve bolded), I realized on second read, is the fact that the old man will be presenting his theories, which isn’t apparent in the English. On first read I felt like it made the old man slightly more sinister and interested in the fame and acclaim. I guess it’s not a major change either way, but it does contrast with the English.

The adjustments at the end of the section, however, are more radical. Birnbaum has the old man encourage Watashi and Watashi replies with a simple affirmative, whereas in the Japanese Murakami has the old man place the responsibility squarely on Watashi’s shoulders and then has Watashi reply with the なるほど. I can’t tell how sarcastic this was meant to be; is it on the same level as a やれやれ or slightly lower? I went with “That figures,” (get it, figures? Ha ha.) but I think “Of course” might work too.

Birnbaum also plays with Watashi’s characterization at the very end of the chapter. During a break in the data laundering, Watashi asks about the mute granddaughter, and the old man curses himself for forgetting to return her speech to normal. Then the old man says he needs to go back and return her to normal. Watashi’s response in translation is merely:

“Oh.”

But in Japanese, it is this:

「その方がよさそうですね」と私は言った。 (58)

In translation:

“That sounds like a good idea,” I said.

Here again Birnbaum alters one of Watashi’s lines of dialogue at the end of a section making him seem more aloof and less sarcastic in translation. Although as we’ve seen in other posts, he is adding a generous amount of it back in in other places.

Paperclips and Gestures

Belated post to account for pages 45-55, which I completed in a single reading last weekend. I’ll be focusing on the English this time around and some of Murakami’s narrative techniques.

Still in Chapter 3 with Watashi making his way to the laboratory and working with the old man. This is a very long chapter, especially in comparison with the first two chapters. Chapter 1 is 11 pages in translation but perhaps feels longer because of all the waiting and thinking involved – we’re in Watashi’s head the whole time. Chapter 2 is a scant six pages, but it has great images, concisely establishes tension with the Gatekeeper, and is effectively the inverse of Chapter 1: while Chapter 1 focuses on Watashi’s inner thoughts, Chapter 2 has almost no response from Boku to his surroundings, no interiority.

I think this is a really good strategy for the beginning of the book. The short chapters help the reader feel like they are moving at a good pace, and the interiority or lack thereof sets up themes that Murakami will cash in on later. The concision of Chapter 2 also does an amazing job of creating an air of mystery – through specificity of detail and not through vagueness – and generates an incredible desire to spend more time in this world.

It makes sense, then, that Chapter 3 is longer. As a readers, we’ve now been primed and are ready to get through material to jump between worlds and learn more about both (and experience the different pleasures that each offers). Murakami can now take his time and give the details about the System and the Factory, Semiotecs and Calcutecs, etc. and we will put up with it. Had he frontloaded this information, it might not have gone down so easily. (This is probably a technique Murakami should have considered for 1Q84.)

In Chapter 3, Murakami also makes effective use of gesture, which he often gets criticized for in other works (temple rubbing, etc). In this case Murakami uses gesture to characterize the old man:

The old man looked me over. Then he picked up a paperclip and unbent it to scrape at a fingernail cuticle. His left index finger cuticle. When he’d finished with the cuticle, he discarded the straightened paperclip into the ashtray. If I ever get reincarnated, it occurred to me, let me make certain I don’t come back as a paperclip. (26)

This makes great use of the paperclip, which will recur throughout the story, and characterizes the old man as unthinking in the way he treats the paperclip. Murakami brings it up once more briefly in these ten pages, but it doesn’t feel overused. I’ll be keeping an eye on this for the rest of the chapter, which is just another three pages.

And a bit o the Japanese since I can’t help myself. The last line is an interesting translation by Birnbaum, but I think he does the Japanese justice:

わけのわからない老人の爪の甘皮を押し戻してそのまま灰皿に捨てられてしまうなんて、あまりぞっとしない。

Murakami does put Watashi into the mindset of the paperclip with the adversative passive, which I think corresponds not indelicately in the English version as I considers being reincarnated.

That phrase ぞっとしない is confusing even to Japanese people, apparently, and the Internets sez it was invented by Soseki himself. Not bad, eh?

University of New Orleans IELP Scholarship for 3.11 Disaster Victims 3.11被災者対象奨学金 – UPDATED

UPDATE: 2012.12.07. The scholarship recipient has been selected! The recipient is a resident of Iwate Prefecture and works at her parents’ ryokan, so learning English should be helpful for her in the future. Congrats!

Hey everyone. I’d like to take just a moment of your time to spread the word about a scholarship that the University of New Orleans Intensive English Language Program (IELP) will be offering for victims of the 3.11 disaster. The scholarship will cover most everything except for transportation. I personally know several of the teachers in this program, and they are fantastic people. If you know anyone who would be eligible for this, please do let them know. Anyone 18 and over affected by the disaster can apply (not just university students). Please share this widely!

これからニューオリンズ大学IELPが3.11被害者対象の奨学金の申し込みを探しています。詳しい状況は以下です。

―18歳以上の3.11被災者なら誰でも応募可能 (大学生でなくても可)。
―期間:1月10日―3月13日、または、 4月1-5月24日 (どちらか選択、いずれも8週間)
―アメリカでの学費(語学留学)、住居費、食費は 奨学金 ($4000)で大半カバーできるが、渡航費、学生ビザの申請に必要な費用は自費。
プログラムのウエブサイトはこちら:http://ielp.uno.edu/

奨学金が一人分しかないので、該当者の中で早いもの勝ちということになります。
英語で300Words程度のエッセイを書いてもらうことになります (津波を経験して思ったことまた、どうして英語を勉強したいか)。

応募、質問は nito@uno.edu まで。

Mummied Up

Pages 15-45 complete. I’m in the middle of Chapter 3, and Watashi has just passed through the waterfall with the old man into his lab.

Earlier in the chapter, I was really impressed with some of Birnbaum’s work. Check out this passage:

“Nice fragrance,” I complimented her on her eau de cologne.

“Thanks,” she mouthed, doing the hood snaps up to right below my nose. Then over the hood came goggles. And there I was, all slicked up and nowhere to go—or so I thought.

That was when she pulled open the closet door, led me by the hand, and shoved me in. She turned on the light and pulled the door shut behind her. Inside, it was like any clothes closet—any clothes closet without clothes. Only coat hangers and mothballs. It probably wasn’t even a clothes closet. Otherwise, what reason could there be for me getting all mummied up and squeezed into a closet.” (20)

And the original:

「すごく良い匂いだね」と私は言った。オーデコロンのことを賞めたのだ。

<ありがとう>と言って、彼女は私のフードのスナップを鼻の下のところまでぱちんぱちんととめた。そしてフードの上からゴーグルをつけた。おかげで私は雨天用のミイラのような格好になってしまった。

それから彼女はクローゼットの扉のひとつを開け、私の手を引いてその中に押し込んでから中のライトを点け、後手でドアを閉めた。ドアの中は洋服だんすになっていた。洋服だんすとはいっても洋服の姿はなく、コート・ハンガーや防虫ボールがいくつかさがっているだけだ。たぶんこれはただの洋服だんすではなく、洋服だんすを装った秘密の通路か何かだろうと私は想像した。何故なら私が雨合羽を着せられて洋服だんすに押しこまれる意味なんて何もないからだ。 (38)

And my version closer to the original so non-Japanese-readers can see what’s up:

“You smell great,” I said, complimenting her perfume.

“Thanks,” she said and closed up the snaps on the hood to just below my nose. Then she put on the goggles over the hood. This turned me into a waterproof mummy.

Then she opened one of the closet doors, took my hand and pushed me inside, flipped on the light, and shut the door with her other hand. Inside it was a wardrobe. But there was no sign of any clothes, just hangers and mothballs. Maybe this isn’t a wardrobe, I thought, maybe it’s a secret passage disguised to look like a wardrobe. If it weren’t, I have no idea why she would suit me up in this ridiculous rain gear and force me inside.

Have you spotted the line I’m interested in? Of course it’s the mummy line. Birnbaum translates over it in that second paragraph, instead going with “all slicked up and nowhere to go” (which is a hilarious line). He then reincorporates the mummy aspect at the end of the third paragraph: “all mummied up” (another great line). I like the way the “mummied up” translation preserves the passive aspect of the original Japanese, but I imagine Jay Rubin might argue that it is the equivalent of the “passivication” of English: the pudgy cute girl is clearly the person who causes Watashi to be 押しこまれるd, and why shouldn’t that get represented in English?

Despite Birnbaum’s playfulness here with the English, I think Rubin wouldn’t mind using the mummy line in the third paragraph. I once heard him say “if you take something out, put something back in.” Or maybe he said “if you take something out, put it back in somewhere else.” Either quote seems to apply in this case.

(Oh, and a small sidenote. I used the asterisks to denote italics because I can’t italicize things in my blockquotes right now for some reason. I need to figure out how to mess with my CSS without imploding the blog, so lemme know if you have any thoughts on how I might do this. Initially the theme italicized everything in blockquotes, which was just ridiculous, but I figured out how to fix that. Update 2013/2/17: I think I fixed the italicized thing. Thanks Thomas!)

Cool Kanji – 楼

Pages 15-35 accounted for. I finished Chapter 2 a couple days ago and was amazed at how much of a pleasure it was to be in the End of the World. Murakami provides so much specific detail for the world, specifically for the beasts but also for characters like the Gatekeeper, and he really takes his time with that first chapter and uses the beasts to introduce the world.

It was easy to understand what 望楼 (ぼうろう) meant from context, but I had to look up the pronunciation. 望 was familiar from compounds such as 展望台 (てんぼうだい) and 願望 (がんぼう), but I didn’t know 楼, which on its own is pronounced just ろう.

It’s made up of the 木 radical on the left, which makes sense since watchtowers are wooden, and then on the right there is 米 above 女, which points to the other meaning of the character suggested by the third definition in Yahoo – a restaurant (?) where johns retreat with a prostitute. That makes it easier to remember the radicals involved – food and ladies in a wooden building…up high.
Update: NOTE: This is just my personal mnemonic and is not based on any actual etymological history. Check out the comments for the actual 字源. Neat stuff.

A couple of notes about the chapter:

– Birnbaum translates the End of the World section in present tense, which works so nicely. The Japanese, although told in past tense, does seem to fit to present tense somewhat naturally since Murakami is describing the unending repetition in the town as it goes through the seasons. The last sentence in the chapter is このようにして街の一日は終わる。

– Only two minor cuts and an adjustment or two. One sentence details the three small watchtowers along the wall, and the other provides more specific details about the violence of the beasts when they fight. When Boku asks the Gatekeeper why he uses the knives, Birnbaum has him answer “I’ll show you” when the winter comes, but the Japanese is closer to “You’ll see” when winter comes. Nothing major beyond that.

Fat-bottomed Girls

No extensive cuts in the first ten pages of Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World, just one paragraph and a few minor sentences, but Birnbaum does choose to leave out one really nice line. The elevator door has opened and Boku Watashi is following the plump lady in a pink suit:

The woman was on the chubby side. Young and beautiful and all that went with it, but chubby. Now a young, beautiful woman who is, shall we say, plump, seems a bit off. Walking behind her, I fixated on her body. (7)

Here is the Japanese:

女はむっくりと太っていた。若くて美人なのだけれど、それにもかかわらず女は太っていた。若くて美しい女が太っているというのは、何かしら奇妙なものだった。私は彼女のうしろを歩きながら、彼女の首や腕や脚をずっと眺めていた。彼女の体には、まるで夜のあいだに大量の無音の雪が降ったみたいに、たっぷりと肉がついていた。(23)

Birnbaum gets everything, for the most part, but leaves out the last sentence for whatever reason. I thought it was nicely phrased:

The woman was chubby. Young and beautiful, sure, but chubby nonetheless. There’s something strange about a young, beautiful woman who is chubby. The whole time I walked behind her, I looked at her neck and arms and legs. It was as though a thick layer of fat had settled there overnight like a silent, heavy snowfall.

My guess is that Birnbaum didn’t want to make Boku Watashi seem like too much of a creeper this early in the novel. He cuts the final sentence and turns the specific target of Boku’s Watashi’s vision into a more general “fixated,” which I think reads smoothly but definitely alters the original.

Scouting the Competition

I wanted to see what the competition looks like in the Expats Blog writing contest, so I did the hard work and looked through all 42 other entries. Not surprisingly, there are a lot of weak ones. Something about travel writing makes it one of the easiest types of writing to do poorly. I know I’ve been a perpetrator in the past, but I’ve been surprised by the reaction I’ve gotten from readers – seems like I’m on the right track with this piece even if I’m not all the way there yet. If you haven’t, check out my entry “How to Fly First Class For Free” and leave a comment of support! Today is the last day to do so.

The biggest crimes that the entries seems to commit are:

– Listing things. This makes it clear that the author wasn’t able to synthesize a main idea. Feels far too bloggy to me, which is how a lot of the writers work (including this one). Nothing wrong with blogging, but I hope the judges will be looking for more than a blog post in this contest.

– Focusing on the departure. One common theme was the hustle and bustle in a home country before arriving abroad. I found it pretty boring, although maybe that’s because my own initial departure was so long ago. I guess it’s an easy place to start a story (one that I kind of rely on to a certain extent), but it again makes me think the writer didn’t have a focus and was just writing from a natural beginning. (Like starting a short story with the main character waking up.)

Three of the stories managed to reel me in:

“Fourth Grade in a Foreign Country”
Sharon Ashworth shares the trials and tribulations of sending her daughter to elementary school in Germany. This one had me from the solid first sentence: “Thankfully, there was a smile at the end of the first day of school.” I also loved the alliteration in the title.

“Finding our bliss in Bangkok”
This entry by Kathy Drouin-Keith is told largely in detailed scenes and has some really well penned lines, my favorite being the following: “If you want to see a tickled Thai, have a little Western boy wai them.” I can imagine being her son, who ruins her attempts at negotiation with his tears.

“Dude – where’s my bathroom?”
The title anecdote from Sarah Drane’s story is very funny – one of the most surprising I’ve heard from expats, although I did meet a JET who returned to his Aomori apartment after winter break to find his pipes frozen, exploded, and spewing water into his closet. Sarah would definitely be able to sympathize.

Cool Compound – 静物画

Pages 15-22 are in the bag. This was my first time reading Japanese for about 4-5 months, and there has been noticeable deterioration in my kanji recognition skills. I noticed this at Japan Fest the other day when I wrote ヨ and thought to myself, hey, that looks like a backwards E. This is not a good sign.

When I was reading through these pages, 静物画 (せいぶつが) really stood out to me. I had to stare at 静 for a while to remember what it meant and how to pronounce it, but I knew from context and memory what it meant in Japanese – it’s hard to forget the initial elevator scene in Hard-Boiled Wonderland. Long, wind-up opening chapters became Murakami’s trademark with this novel, and nowhere is it more fun to read than here. We’re locked in boku’s Watashi’s consciousness and humor: he sees himself as a still life portrait in this strange elevator.

The compound 静物, a very cool homophone with 生物, follows the pattern ADJECTIVE + NOUN (still/quiet + thing) and is then attached to 画.

The good news is that I did not have to look this one up and was still able to rustle up the meaning and pronunciation. I wasn’t so lucky with 歩幅 (ほはば), a NOUN + NOUN compound. I blame this on the stupid compound 几帳面 (きちょうめん), which came a few sentences before and primed my brain to read any 巾 kanji as ちょう.