The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea by Yukio Mishima

The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea is a short novel in two seasons, set in post war Yokohoma; where a Sailor is eager to fall from the ‘grace’ he is almost sick of, for a lady who is past that definition of ‘grace’. And her young boy’s response to it through an adolescent jaden speaking nazi gang. I did not like it and the book probably has fucked me up.

Since my initial impression was a disturbed dislike, I read on Mishima’s life to know more about the context I might be appropriating. I was amused by authors extraordinary life and ‘Mishima Incident’, and indulged myself in knowing more about the man himself than the book. From my utter dislike I found myself in agreement with the popular take of book being on polarized idea of ‘masculinity’ and civilizational anxiety in post World War 11 Japan. The kids in this story are struggling with their idealized ideologies of ‘honour’ and ‘glory’, and are disappointed in its non adherence by the very grown ups who taught them that. Ryuji, the sailor, was an embodiment of the nihilist philosophy they found supremacy in, and in his openness to settle down, Noboru, the young boy, found ultimate betrayal.

From my take, the trifaceted main story line represented the dynamics of then Japanese society Mishima struggled to make sense of. Noboru is the stern yet masked traditionalist who finds meaning in old codes of living. Ryuji represents the transition, by being the detached Sailor who is open to the idea of settling down into the statics of an increasingly westernizing society from his current more heroic turbulent current life in sea. Fusako, on the other hand, is the transition; a widower who is a women of her own and well assimilated into the modern world, and is definitely the character readers can relate the most with.

The prose is beautiful at parts, even lyrical and eerily philosophical in its justification for baggages the characters or authors might carry.

“A father is a reality-concealing machine, a machine for dishing up lies to kids, and that isn’t even the worst of it: secretly he believes that he represents reality.”

Sure, this sounds deep. But considering the 13 year old Ku Klux Klan its coming from and lack of narrative precedence, they appeared embryonic and frankly annoying.

But my issue was, I believe, in finding this image of ‘hero’ or ‘male figure’ unprecedented and the kids’ response unsolicited. There was no suggestive ambivalence with his mother, rather Noboru was shown more apathetic in his relationship with Fusako, or even appreciatory in nature. To me, Noboru‘s transition was more like that of the kid from ‘This is England’ movie, though thematically different. The ‘daddy issues’ like the one quoted and superiority complex were more original to the Chief of the gang than Noboru. His and the gang’s extreme response felt very out of the blue for me; even with Noboru’s fascination towards life on Sea and his diary entries of increasing betrayals by Ryuji, his once ideal Sailor. Of course one can blame the privileged ways in which the kids were raised, but, I couldn’t find anything that warrantable in their extra w(v)is(c)e talks and weird world view. The chief often said meticulously crafted sentences that invoked a sense of false superiority and sneering look down on people around them. But, with the final act or the cat scene, their way out was always violence in ‘secrecy’. I think, I needed some emotional or historical baggage to sustain or even trigger their behaviour, other than the fact that kids were being whatever author wanted them to be.

Maybe Noboru‘s secluded life and gradual descent reflects Mishima‘s closeted childhood and his masculine response over the tagged effeminacy and homosexuality. Maybe by detaching the gang from childlike immaturity and consciously committing them to the final act, Mishima was further stretching on western definitions of ‘adulthood’ and ‘childhood’ like that of Philippe Aries. Maybe Mishima is interventionistic of his fundamentalist response towards modernizing Japanese society and hence have left the nazi goonies clan ideology childish and open for scrutiny. Maybe in Ryuji‘s nonchalant acceptance, Mishima was reflecting his own later ‘Sepukku’ with book’s definitions of honour, valour and glory. Maybe I am trying to make sense of a book I didn’t like but desperate to understand. Maybe I should have dropped the book by that visceral scene in first part that scarred me, and even warned me of what might follow. Maybe I am just not smart enough to fathom nor sophisticated enough to enjoy, but just stupid enough to rant.

I think the last line makes more sense. I might pick another Mishima up, but my feelings are still unchanged; I didn’t like the book.

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The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea (Japanese: 午後の曳航, meaning The Afternoon Towing) is a novel written by Yukio Mishima, published in Japanese in 1963 and translated into English by John Nathan in 1965.

Origin by Robert Langdon

Well, I won’t lie. I had fun. Dan Brown novels are like Michael Bay movies, both were once cool and are now timeworn by overstaying the welcome. Well, if you are content with what to expect, both could still be solid no brainier entertainments. But this one surprised me, by being bad. I was more curious about whether everything in this book will remain in Spain or move to Catalonia by the time I finished it, than the promised big secret. ‘Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition’, right?

For the fifth time in a row, existence of the world is threatened by a ‘secret’; unraveling of which, requires a complicated scheme of identifying patterns and solving codes hidden in modern art and literature by nefarious cults over centuries. And again for the fifth time in a row, it is up to Harward symbologist Prof. Robert Langdon to solve this mystery alongside his brand new disposable female Boswell, while being chased by Police, though cooperating with them is a perfectly logical option. I was all in for this formula, but Brown decided to up the game by giving Langdon a personal Jarvis and his own version of conspiracy reddit filled with cancer inducing hash tags. And if you, like me, are expecting some continuation or even mention of the Childhoods End scenario, Inferno had left us in, prepare to be disappointed; it gets zero mention at all. The trans-formative discovery at the end of the book, which is the primary incentive for readers, was doomed to be a presentation on thermodynamics and diffusion physics from the very start, despite the over dramatic built up of an Apple event. I was left all the more infuriated by Brown comparing his big secret with Copernicus’s heliocentrism, Darwin’s evolution and Einstein’s relativity, while all he did was to pretend like he just invented the genre of cyberpunk.

I might have grown too old to enjoy this, but more importantly, I think Dan Brown has grown older. You know it’s too far fetching when Langdon has to deduce corporate logos such as Uber, to show his specialty of ‘romance in short notice.’ Dan Brown repeatedly asserts Langdon’s female companion as a woman of her own, and then goes ahead to prove her otherwise. He was trying too hard to be cool, by hook or crook, from Asimov, Clarke, Blake to Star Wars and Fermi Paradox and Ted Talks and Neil deGrasse Tyson. And there were product placements, I don’t know whether that is a thing for books, but, CNN, Uber, Tesla, Apple and FedEx do seem to have their hand in sponsorship. Below is a cringy example

“In reality, Edmond loved attention, and admitted to keeping his plane at Sabadell only to have an excuse to drive the winding roads to his home in his favorite sports car—a Tesla Model X P90D that Elon Musk had allegedly hand-delivered to him as a gift. Supposedly, Edmond had once challenged his jet pilots to a one-mile drag race on the runway—Gulfstream vs. Tesla—but his pilots had done the math and declined.”

Usually data dumping and random facts in Dan Brown novels concatenate to some extent, here they weren’t conclusive at all, even If one ignore the significance. Also most of the things that he explains as cutting edge technology like bone conducting headphones, dark web, advancements in AI were already too main stream to incite any awe; and he seemed to have saturated the conspiracy resources from the past as well. Also the world is more liberal to have been shattered by the prospectus of religion or death of it.

Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao; The Sagrada Familia, Barcelona

Despite everything, this book had me hooked. I finished it in a day, and there isn’t a single book that can boast that in recent times. I was fascinated by the introduction to arts and architecture like Guggenheim Museum, Sagrada Familia and other works of Gaudí. The book had its redeeming elements, the edginess that might have been appealing to your teenage self openly and your old self as guilty pleasure. Atheism and Christian imagery, Historic figures and mysterious cults, Langdon figuring out codes that no one else can and feeling embarrassed that it had taken him so long, Artemis Fowl-ish know-it-all-do-it-all technocrats, over dramatic introductions, pompous arts and academics, edgy philosophy, extreme displays of royalty, loyalty and fanaticism, factoids and verbatims, matter of single digit minutes spanning over chapters in double digits, forgettable ladies etc. And above all, Robert Langdon surviving a fall. There were many serious deviations from Dan Brown’s usual structure as well. Langon came out more as a gunter researching on Halliday than the eminent scholar of ancient history he is renowned for. Also whole episode happens in Spain, or what is now Spain, rather than the Universal or Eurasian aspect of previous installments. Who knows, maybe he is counting on the Catalan referendum.

Origin is the least entertaining work by Dan Brown in my opinion, at least among Robert Langdon series. Nevertheless, if you are up for a no brainier, fast paced, conspiracy filled read, this book has you covered. There is enough to make you feel like an armchair conspiracy theorist, though it may not be the best use of your time.

Langdon watched the phone plummet down and splash into the dark waters of the Nervión River. As it disappeared beneath the surface, he felt a pang of loss, staring back after it as the boat raced on.

Robert,” Ambra whispered, “just remember the wise words of Disney’s Princess Elsa.

Langdon turned. “I’m sorry?”

Ambra smiled softly. “Let it go.”

I have decided to follow the wise words of Disney Princess Elsa and let it go, at least till the next book. 🙂

The Dark Forest by Cixin Liu

I am highly inclined to tag this one as ‘The Empire Strikes Back‘ of series, notwithstanding the fact that the third book is yet to be covered. And Liu’s ultra-pragmatic Dark Forest deterrence theory, among many other things, blew me away to such an extent that I might not look the Fermi Paradox, the same way ever again.

Though Dark Forest picks up exactly from where Three Body Problem had left us, by roughly building its premise from and post events of its predecessor; the novel can stand alone well on its own, with maybe, a tweaked preface. Humanity is still under the threat of Trisolaris, who have now mobilized their fleet in Earth’s direction, expecting an interception in four centuries or so. And Earth’s defences are widely exposed in strategy and crippled in scientific progress, by ‘sophones’ who do the dual job of enemy recon and deterrence. I was surprised by the way Liu lightened this seemingly grim premise with constant introduction to mind-blowing ideas and concepts, without breaking their continuity with everything that has happened in the fictional universe and actual science so far. The Wallfacer project, for example is the first domino in his contraption, which grants four individuals unbounded freedom and resources to engineer strategies over Trisolaris on projected Doomsday, even if entire humanity is kept in deception. To me, the whole wallfacer idea, the ultimate intelligence vault, was one of the most fascinating concept, in my reading history. And the book had more of the sort, only if bigger and better, up its sleeve.

Even with ‘sophones’ being the omnipotent all seeing Samaritan, increasing number of people embracing escapism, and checks by ETO, technology does advance within its available science.

It may be unfair to judge a translated work for its literature merits, and the writing here is absolutely within limits of criticisms, that cannot be evaded by the lingo cultural card. Yet, Liu‘s style was highly committed to its course, strictly following Chekhov’s gun policy, except maybe for a few misplaced McGuffins. Thing is, during the long time span of novel, reader might forget more than a few of those probable digressions, only to have it reminded by Author further during the read. In my opinion Three Body Problem was a bit demanding, with its groundwork in remote history and near future scientific principles; The Dark Forest on the other hand, felt more accessible, as an extended reaction towards the First Contact story line. Also, Liu’s inoculation of scientific ideas made me think in a discursive course during the read than being intuitive about the plot. As a reader, I never felt under equipped to understand the rocket science; For the author has been, subtlety instilling the required science and philosophy, without them ever appearing like expositions. I found this treatment very restorative.

The book encapsulates in essence the paranoia and defeatist pessimism, when people have to make peace with the possibility of an impending doom. The future where environmentalism is a luxury and nationalism is insignificant reminded me of Forever War and Blade Runner. The perplexing escapist question is whether to save for upcoming generations at the expense of current, while the future of very civilization is uncertain. But the way, Liu painted this bleak ‘inequality of survival’ scenario, which ideally should have been drained of morality and resources, was pretty bright. Along with the Chinese citations that are bound to go over our head, this book offers passing references to a lot of popular sci-fi from Verne to Asimov, with careful consideration on basic science. A good illustration would be the explanation for something as a space ship reaching escape velocity from our solar system, or possibility of detecting a star system or deploying a space fleet. A casual reader would hardly question any of those, but Liu‘s narrative attaches decipherable details and delightful interconnections, rather than leaving them as convenient plot devices. His practice of carpe diem, in story and writing, has my utmost respect. I badly want to discuss the axioms of cosmic civilizations and other mind blowing concepts in this book, but like a Wallfacer, I am compelled to keep them to myself, or else I would be spoiling the reading experience.

I’ve been keeping myself off from reading for a few days, after finishing the book, just to extend the unaltered excitement little more, and to perhaps, formulate an unbiased opinion. One might nitpick on pace, narratives and characters; but, to me, they were perception checks to appreciate the genius of Liu. For, over the grand scale of story, The Dark Forest felt like the work of a higher being like Trisolran than a normal human in creativity.

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Three Body Problem review

A tribute film to Dark Forest – Waterdrops

 

Nightfall by Issac Asimov

​”If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore, and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God!”

Lagash is a fictional Earth like planet, with a double Trisolaris situation – system of six suns, that keeps the planet perpetually lit. Lagash-ians have never experienced any darkness during their recorded history of civilization and the system of six suns is pretty much their accepted universe in its entirety. So imagine, how darkness and appearance of millions of stars in sky would affect the people, during the occurrence of an event like night. 
Asimov’s novelette explores the social behaviour and existential crisis during such an event. I found the parallels he kept with Earth fascinating, the cult and legend, the religious extremists and the general panic during a change that people can’t comprehend. I am inclined to believe that Asimov subtley paid a little tribute to Galelio and Bruno, in his narrative as well. The structural similarities between the planets deserves some mention, but I can’t find a way to do that without spoiling anything.
One can be an unkill and ask all sort of scientific enquiries like How multiple gravitational force affect Lagash, Would they have seasons, Won’t eclipses pose heat and quake threats, How does blind people cope with darkness, Or normal people during power failure in an internal office? 
Or just enjoy the story. 

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Robert Silverberg later developed the story into a full fledged novel and Asimov himself has committed it to be very much what he intended. I would still advice the novelette first, as none of my fellow readers found the novel largely appealing.

Beartown by Fredrik Backman

“You know when you find a book which is really really special and as you continue read it, it makes it even more obvious about its breathtaking, heartbreaking, profound magnificence and in that moment your mind divides and start feeling so many emotions- one part of your brain is advising you to slow it down because it’s a one in lifetime masterpiece so relish it slowly, let every word rings to every fabric of your soul, while the another part of your brain is so hyperventilating in an excitement to know what’s coming next, it forces you to skim read it and then there’s a whole separate part of your brain that had already started grieving and despairing for when it’ll end. In whirlpool of all these contrasting emotions as you’re going page after page, you realize you’re feeling a twinge of an unknown emotion; an emotion you have not felt in a long time while reading a book, you realize you are happy”.

Though I might not entirely resonate the same sentiments as of the person who recommended me this novel, which is given in her own words above, I wouldn’t​ hesitate to tag it as an exceptional read. In fact, this was a really beautiful book where, every word somehow mattered, like a slice of life anime, with beautiful post rock soundtrack, and no filler episodes.

Beartown is a secluded beautiful small town, where everyone lives and breaths Ice Hockey; it even carries a cold mystery around, the kind one might draw parallels with Twin Peaks, Wayward Pines, Riverdale or even Gravity Falls. The novel tells the story of the town, its people, their passion towards hockey and how an incident involving kids rocks brings the best and worst out of all. Author introduces the characters, develop them well enough, yet keep unfolding them as we proceed further in the read, like peeling onions. It feels very much like knowing people in real life, and the way characters were carved out, even to the most insignificant ones, made them lovable and unforgettable. He does this clever little trick with some sentences, repeating it further in the story, reminding the reader of previous instances, while intricately connecting them with the present.

Loved the subtlety by which this book addressed issues of love, dreams, loss, guilt, grief, violence and abuse, without directly referring to them. There were multiple scenes, simple usual everyday scenes, that made me go excited with adrenaline. And then there were scenes, simple usual everyday scenes, where I had to shut my copy down to take some fresh air, not just by the farrago of emotions, but the beauty in which they were depicted. Yeah, I had to punch a wall to feel manly again.

I went Kite Runner(finishing the book in shortest possible time to escape the feels) on this one, in two days this time, since my bare mind could barely contain Beartown. Its been 3 weeks and two books since, and I admit being haunted by its memories now and then. But the strangely beautiful part is, the memories, they all make me smile.

Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse

Obligatory Buddha and Bodhi tree picture, book has got very little to do with the enlightened one though.

This is like going to theaters for Star Wars, and getting stuck with the origin story of Jar Jar. Or I might have completely missed the point of this widely favoured work.

To me, Siddhartha(highly misleading title) was the embodiment of platitudes I’ve been overexposed to – the occident fixation on nirvana, self discovery, obsession with Om, asceticism and enlightenment.

I found, Siddhartha(not Buddha) as one classic lethargic intelligent, privileged to have born in an upper class rich family. In his selfish narcissistic pursuit for enlightenment, he conveniently chooses to ignore every obligation he has with life and loved ones; from which he eventually graduates to exploiting the extra niceties of hard working folks around, by portraying himself as the wise brahmin whom every one shall respect and care for. Author then calls for sympathy towards protagonist’s so called material sufferings, by products of his own previous negligence or karma if you ask me, on grounds of monistic philosophy of Atman and Brahman, and cycle of Samsara; I simply couldn’t align myself with that. In fact he was the proverbial silver spoon kid all along, self venerated and diplomatically renouncing though.

Imagine picking up a book titled Gandhi, its natural of you to expect his story or philosophy in the book. But instead, the book goes on about the personal quests of another Gandhi, who happens to have shared the exact time period as real Gandhi, living in the same neighborhood, often crossing each other in their lives. And to add to the annoyance, this fictional Gandhi exploits his social status and caste for his own selfish reasons and back it with a twisted philosophy that resembles closely with that of real Gandhi. Siddhartha, to me, felt more or less like this.

Maybe, if I wasn’t raised among these pursuit of happiness, self realization, meaning of life stories or If the newfound wisdom of Sakyamunis and Buddha were exotic to the society I belong to, Hesse’s masterpiece might have managed to evoke amazement or at least amusement for that matter.
Extra star for keeping it short.

Rescue Party by Arthur C Clarke

This is the upside down version of almost all alien exploration stories out there; for one, we are the exotic mysterious civilization, the aliens of this story are interested in.

Wikipedia lists this not-so-short short, as the first published work by Arthur C Clarke, Astounding Science Fiction May 1947, a fitting trailer for the vision and imagination that was to follow. In Rescue Party’s fictional universe, there seems to be a confederation of star civilizations and god like beings who orchestrate and control the happenings of explored universe. On the onset of a Supernova explosion, Sun in this case, these Lantern Guardians like beings, Alverons as they are known, sends a convoy to rescue or preserve newly discovered Earth’s civilization. Anything more than this would be an overshare at this point. Absolutely loved the pace of the story, the universe and races built in the limitation of words, psychology and mystery of exploration, along with the open ending bonus tease. If there was an option to add review title in goodreads, I would definitely have gone with ‘Rendezvous with Earth’ as a homage for Clarke’s (well, mostly Clarke’s) Rama series.

According to internet legends, Clarke abstained himself from re reading his early published works, for the fear of realizing how little he had improved over years. I must say, something near perfect doesn’t leave you much room for improvement.

Binti by Nnedi Okorafor

Binti is a Nebula and Hugo Award winning novella and below review covers only the first installment of an ongoing series. An ambitious Wakandan-ish girl, also the very first person from her tribe to leave the planet, is left with the heavy responsibility of universal peace as some Romulans– ish race butcher her Starship,  which was on its way to Oomza University – this story’s StarFleet Academy.

One is often insecure about his stand when it comes to registering his like or dislike towards a culturally or ethnically diverse work; which often leads to a personally unjust review, under peer pressure or the fear of being branded by the adjectives for intolerance, non progressiveness and their kins. I am unable to get my head around this old school racism or sectarianism, that forms the basic framework of Binti (also some how limited to protagonist’s particular tribe), considering the extremely diverse and pluralistic Intergalactic society, story’s universe is based on.

Okorafor is a really good writer, and I heavily appreciate the prose which consorted well with tribal girl narrative, and the non pretentious word/world/culture building; but as far as science fiction is considered, story is solid meh.

From a whovian perspective, the philosophy of Binti would be something like this – Hey, I can’t accept Martha Jones, but Sontarans are cool.

Maybe I need to read more to understand Afrofuturism as a genre. Yet, it sounds kinda unappealing to me as an extension of the same can cause a lot of futurisms with prefixes like Indo, Arab, Sino etc etc. And I don’t want to pick a book on this reason, over the diversity and perspectives authors from different cultures can offer.

Way Station by Clifford D. Simak

Most of our contemporary science fiction rattles around a technologically advanced gone wrong future, that is obsessed over the imperfect past we never truly cared to live in.* It is a contradiction considering the classics we started off from, like Way Station which envisioned a future of Intergalactic peace and confraternity among Stars.

This novel essentially represented a Space Opera during cold war, spatially confined within the private bulwark of a Man from the Earth civil war veteran, by American Midwest. Our anachronistic Highlander, Enoch Wallace, and his House of Leaves soon falls under the surveillance of covert Men in Black, thanks to the static sloppy life he has been protracting for over a century. This classic mystery build up from an outsider pov eventually shifts, and takes the reader through protagonist’s eternal loneliness and indirect adventures in an Intergalactic Way Station, for which he is the custodian of. In my imagination Way Station looked like a controlled visitation zone, full of artifacts and sacrosanct knowledge. The novel subtly touches the terrains of human emotions and humanity as a whole through the eyes of alien visitors, hind-bound local yokels and a morally conflicted old man.

I found a pub by the name Way Station on internet, which I pretty much captures the strange image I had in mind, and it has got a Tardis!

Might be a bit far fetching, but, Enoch and Lucy had the facsimile of a censored docile Old Man Logan, more with the upcoming movie than the comic it claims to have been adapted off. And I kept wondering whether Douglas Adam‘s Babel fish came from Simak‘s pasimology for understanding intergalactic shibboleths, till getting hit by the obvious parental reference – the Bible. Prose has been simple yet classy and I actually copied down one correspondence between Enoch and an unknown science journal editor, for embellishing my ongoing job covering letters.

Way Station was a pleasant reading experience, a calm soft classic sci-fi with little dystopian elements. It hasn’t been entirely faultless especially with the rushed resolution and extra nicety around, but none of them mitigated the kernel of the story nor it’s debonairness.

 

*source – John Dally

The Forever War by Joe Haldeman

The Forever War feels a lot like Halo, with Captain Mandella playing a novice Master Chief against the Covenant looking Prophet less Taurians. For a novel written in 1976 on horrors of Vietnam war with an Interstellar undertone, this hard science fiction feels so surprisingly contemporary and expedient. Or accurately prognostic.

Humanity is at war with Taurians, an alien civilization we know very little about except the fact that they initiated the conflict on the very first contact, attacking Earth’s outpost in farther space. Planet’s elites, the ones with IQ above 150, are soon absorbed by UNEF and then send to Charon for revenge and recon. Many couldn’t survive the rigorous training itself, and a lot more were killed during the first post-hypnotically suggested initial combat, thanks to the alien environments and weaponry. Soldiers travel intergalactically through Collapsor jumps (worm holes), with enigmatic relativistic effects, by the order of centuries back on Earth, making them alien to the world whose very future they’ve been fighting for.

Sci fi is often metaphorical in nature, and in this novel Haldeman depicts the horrors he experienced in Vietnam war, without recreating it essentially. I don’t think any other linear work directly dealing with the subject of war could have accurately conveyed the essence and remained ageless at the same time. Another book I know which did a similar job, though not essentially similar is Slaughterhouse Five, which portrayed war through a nonchalant non linear life, where everything felt preordained with time travel.

Peter F. Hamilton calls this “damn near perfect” for a novel and I couldn’t agree more. Haldeman’s vision for future covered almost everything in Taurian war, where survival was only by mistake.

•  Unaccounted combat units either slaughtered or lost or crawling through normal space at near light speed to a Earth, which by their arrival would be centuries ahead.
• Heavily outsourced job scenario, where most of the countries are promoting homosexuality as a strategy for population control.
• Temporal lingua franca with which a soldier could communicate with someone contemporary of his/her double digit time grandfather or grand-kid for that matter.
• Wormholes and collapsor jumps making some one feel like Galileo meeting Einstein or Genghis Khan meeting Mass Effect’s Shepherd in terms of military tech (future shock).

Couldn’t help but notice the areas Interstellar borrowed from this one, including the final letter between Marygay and Mandella. Even though this was a dystopian military sci-fi novel, it had a pleasant aura around it, and subtle humour, with a very satisfactory ending. Like Hamilton says- “damn near perfect.”