Thursday 4 August 2011

堕落論、無頼派 vs willful determination and supernatural belief.

Time to bid farewell to my 不健康な habit, back to civilization and mind discipline.

The sky was so nice and calm today. The signalling of rain.
Birds chirped and cicada with their 例のchanting.

Transition to a temporary phase of unwelcomed solitude has subjected me to a kind of sentimentalism. Nothing but a masturbation of one's own emotions, a tendency to lament it just for the sake of self-regard.

But how can i ever fail to notice the blueness of the sky, the greennish of the grass?

Lifting my melancholy lethargic state to a more active pursuit of literary enlightenment requires nothing but a will of the mind, a necessity to separate oneself from the addictive cyberworld.

Must adopt a more Apollonian stance on things. With hindsight, that experience on the beach was but sheer foolishness - one encourage by drinking and indulgence, and physical proximity of the opposite sex. Let it be nice memory to cherish, looking back on a well-spent student life. If there is fate, paths will cross.

No I'm subjecting myself to a greater Other to spin out a narrative for me. One too often does. It helps the unconsoled mind, relying on some supernatural, unknown power. I am.

Well, for now.

Dazai, Mishima and Kazuo

Osamu Dazai  -  "Melos, Run!"

Goodness and Evilness: wavering extremes
Distinction between these 2 extremes is usually blurred by the complexity of the charcaters depicted in Dazai's works.

King Dionysus: "Lonely tyrant" -> characteristic of Dazai to make the villain announce a direct appeal for sympathy
Melos: psychological journey of spiritual conflict (allowed himself to be temporarily seduced by a dream where he speculated whether all hsi struggles are worthwhile and tempted to betray his friend) -> spontaneity and purity replaced by cunning calculation -> where speculative thought gets in, people turn to be more self-protective, which is a sign of "literacy" as opposed to "orality".

Purity taught by experience (not by inherent instinct/ feeling) -> Characters grew morally and pure by deetermination and self-will.

Dazai's version turned the didactic story into a more realistic narration.

Mishima Yukio - "Patriotism"

Mishima: fervent advocate of pre-war JP samurai spirit and imperial worship -> male chauvinist
 His suicide sparked an outrage of antipathy for his death represented a urge for war-time nationalism ("anti-democratic") admist the prevailing national climate (Nationalism then was divorced from samurai spirit and leader worship: indeed it was neceassarily a nostalgic longing for folkloristic past)

Mishima modelled himself on Mori Ogai's Apollonian stance (rationality), yet he was not an advocate at birth, rather an acquired one. Anxious to demonstrate the "sword" side of Japanese versus the "chrysanthemum".

His public hara-kiri suicide confirmed Western stereotypical view of Jp samurai spirit.


Nietzsche's "Master/ Slave Morality": Greek and Roman cultures = master morality (strong, noble, courage etc). Christian culture = slave morality (weak, feminine, servile etc)
 

Wednesday 3 August 2011

Summer.

It's summer.

Yet, here u won't see anything other than autumn. No scorching hot sun, no cicada fused into a single multi-million-antenna body chorusing in the early morning, no dampened sweat, no ice-cream, no flip-flop. Only the rustle of the yellow leaves, the crisp autumn air, the sulky river, morning dew.

What i felt this afternoon cutting my path through the outdoor multi-purpose ground was one of hollowness. Stifling hollowness indeed. And severed entrails. The grass that just sprouted on the ground, flowers that await blooming, leaves that fell from the trees, everything blended onto a single blurred image. The sky was very blue indeed - a sweet unblemished blue that is here and there tainted with silky threads of white clouds. Yet it was a definite, unquestionable kind of blueness - the kind of precarious, outright and unconcealed lust that is felt by looking at a beautiful girl. Voluptuous was the mountain line, far-stretching was the sky - all exerting their physical existence as if to mock the melancholy mind.

And there goes the song

Eyes to heaven
White clouds in the perfect blue
No trace of God in the sky
Those slow clouds in the haggard blue
The sun floods the sky
Spending my winter days forgetting you
When every second is a handful of earth
When every minute
Is a sob
See how I struggle
See how much I lose
Of blood and water
Of blood and water
When every second is a handful of earth
When every minute
Is a vault
See how I struggle
See how much I lose
Of blood and water
Of blood and water

Alone in a little town. Outside, the cicada goes on with their incessant perpetuated chorus. The cicada must get excited because of summer too. And what would be the sounder way to call attention to their existence other than to use what they're inherently blessed with: their voice. But trust me, it is not such a delightful experience, being surrounded by million cicada-infested jungle; no matter how peaceful it may look, the internal is real chaos. 
Yesterday lying on bed, i felt my entrails being severed. Like a finger cut from the hand. My only symbol of joy and pleasure and of unlimited accompanied indulgence, the last vestige of my reinforced other self, has gone. Yet not gone for good. I know we'll see each other again. The most important thing is that we won't betray each other. Or I won't betray my feelings. I take my memories with utmost care - put them in a box, in a tidy manner, sorting out days and months, with exquisite concern as to details, smell, sounds, looks. Yet somehow the memories just keep floating in the air - in the middle air, not vaporizing, not instilling. Romatically sad like the scent of summer sky. Like the lonely chanting of cicada. Like the dismay look of a girl, mourning her happy times, looking out of the window, wishing the cicada would stop singing, yet cannot afford to digest the awareness of her own physical existence, while the latter keeps devouring her, permeating her body, weaking her will.



Tuesday 2 August 2011

ノート

昨日、一緒に心地よく過ごしてきた友達が今日帰省するから、別れの言葉を交わした。彼は、「最高の夏休みをお過ごし増すように」ってなんて礼儀正しく言葉遣いをする人だが、私にとってはちょっと重い言葉やないか、と。特に親しくなった友人に対して、決してそんな言い方をしないだろう、と。でも、人によって癖がいろいろあるから、まあまあ許せるかな。

もっとも大切なのは、お互いに思いやりがあるということだと考えてる。

今日も夏セッションの授業に出て一日を過ごす。帰国するのはあと三日。今日を除くと。
そしてこの間紙くずまみれの部屋を整理するうちに、日本語のノートを目にした。ページをめくってさっと読んだが、すごくいい単語があるし、このまま使わないと忘れるのは当然だと思って、今ここにノートを公開すると思う。

旺盛 食欲旺盛 冒険心旺盛 好奇心旺盛 サービス精神旺盛

早熟な

煙たがる 人間関係について少し煙たがっている

おおらかな性格 (寛容、慈悲深い)

持ち前の 持ち前の言語の才能 持ち前の明るさで

絶妙な 絶妙なタイミングで 絶妙な技 色の取り合わせが絶妙である

持ち前の絶妙なバランス感覚で集団に調和をもたらす

探究心

進取  進取の気性に富んだ人

鍛錬

渉外 (宣伝、広告)

忍耐 忍耐の限界に達する 忍耐力

利己的な

独断(偏った判断)

孤高 孤高の魂

わき目もふらず前進する

闘争心

真似

切磋琢磨

寄り添う