Tag Archives: japanese

you’ll hate it here

I wandered around a weird little mall today. At noon, only half the places were open, and I feel like 40% of the stores weren’t stores but galleries. One place was selling laminated onto woodblock Tintin covers for $12. And there was a Japanese dollar-store, where I’m completely going to buy any bowls if I need them. Everything put me on edge, but in a very different way than malls usually do. I guess there must be more “normal” kinds of malls around, but I haven’t seen any.

It’s a different city this Vancouver, with its individualized stores. It’s weird when I feel Mountain Equipment Co-op is the Evil Empire of corporations. But seriously, on my routes I’m travelling (to school and downtown) the chain places feel a lot less in ascendancy here (so the large MEC with its rooftop parking lot seems monstrous). I mean, yes, there are loads of Starbucks, but Tim’s isn’t saturating the rest of the intersections. I’ve seen one Chapters but loads of smaller bookshops (some used, some just specialized into mysteries or science fiction). The only Home Depot I’ve seen is down by the railway yard, practically under a bridge, like some unsightly uncle.

I’m not saying this is bad. It’s actually pretty awesome. But I feel like Holly must have about Winnipeg before I took her on the drive through development hell. It’s the kind of city I want to live in, with lots of independent stuff going on along with the icons of familiarity. But. I keep on waiting for the terror of big boxes to appear around every corner. I don’t know where this city has stashed them, and the suspense is getting to me.

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book review: where europe begins

The second Yoko Tawada book I’ve read, Where Europe Begins, didn’t leave me with quite the same “Holy fuck! I can’t believe this thing exists!” feeling that I got from The Bridegroom Was a Dog. Natural really. There were expectations now. So there were some bits I didn’t like so much but others that were great. It’s another book of shortish pieces, some of them translated from Japanese, some from German. I couldn’t tell which was which just from reading them, which probably speaks to the good work of the translators.

The most important part of the book (for me) was the title story. It’s about the narrator travelling the Trans-Siberian railway to Moscow. What got me about it was the admission of the narrator that parts of the story were written before she’d ever gone to Russia. “I like to have the story of a trip planned out so I can quote from it when I inevitably run out of words in the middle of my travels” (not an exact quote – grumble grumble returned my library book too soon – but that was the sentiment). And she also says that her diary was written long after the fact. Her notebooks just sat there mute during the travels. And the narrator doesn’t make the facile statement about not writing because she’s busy experiencing life or whatever; she can’t write on the train because the words all disappear. All words everywhere. For her. The story ends with her collapsed in a Moscow train station square while alphabets try to orient her, but she can’t deal with any of it. Because she’s in the centre of Europe.

Being disoriented and bewildered are common states for Tawada characters, which probably explains my attraction. I’ve been trying to read this W.G. Sebald book which has similar themes, but it drowns in detail of a more prosaic kind. His world is bewildering because of the most mundane bits of life which he treats as special, while Tawada is making the bizarre feel mundane.

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six four three with a scoop

It seems like more people than I’ve ever noticed before went to Gimli for the Icelandic festival this year. Like there’s some strange signal calling people out there to partake in herring or pillaging whatever there is to witness at such a festival. A festival that’s sort of like Festival du Voyageur except not in the blinding cold. I hope there wasn’t something in the lake summoning all these folk for some ominous rite that ends in electricity, blood and drowning.

I’ve been studying Japanese recently. Just slowly putting the pieces of language together. I can sound things out with both the katakana and hiragana, though I’m not really worrying too much about pronunciation. I will be satisfied with a fragmentary collection of knowledge. At least for now.

Twenty-eight days till I leave for China. I’m working on figuring out what I’ll look forward to after that. One option is going to school again. That’d give me a good few months of putting together applications to keep busy. Anticipation of actually learning things again. This half-ass Japanese studying makes me realize how much I miss school. Learning shit is good stuff.

And the Jays game this afternoon was pretty good. Johnny Mac was in at short and started two double plays, one of which made me glad I get video highlights as well as the live radio feed. I’ve got no problem with Scutaro, but it’s nice to see the Prime Minister of Defence out there doing that thing he does.

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