A Flutter

A wavelet on still water.

A disturbance

on the surface

of the tranquil,

stagnant,

infested,

emerald coloured

immensity,

that twists its every part,

bends and misaligns

all its micro particles,

and shifts the darkness

around,

imperceptibly and

gradually,

while the whole world

carrying on

around it,

like a flock of birds,

not caring for their prey,

hurrying

to get back

to their respective nests.

And you standing

absolutely still,

taking in the rhythm,

the pain and the grief,

your desire and your ecstasy,

and scared of a sign,

an aftershock,

a recoil,

that may breakout

from within

and knock down

the sand castle,

that you painstakingly constructs.

While the rock,

once it starts that flutter

on your cursed surface,

sinks down unmindful,

to your deep center,

and you become grimly aware

of the impossibility

of a revival.

Book Review- Bukowski: On Film by Marc Shapiro

 Charles Bukowski never liked movies. And Hollywood never knew what to do with his books. Yet, the life and work of Bukowski were always an inspiration for generations of filmmakers, and many dozens of movies were made during and after his lifetime, with only a very few of them being established Hollywood productions. Most of these movies were short films, a majority of them student films directed on shoestring budgets solely out of a passion for the author and his works.

Who was Bukowski? A rebellious poet and story writer, he wrote six novels and countless poems and short stories in many literary magazines, including some obscure ones, which are collected in over sixty books. Called by Time as 'the laureate of American lowlife', Bukowski wrote about the poor by living among them. He wrote about impoverished Americans, alcoholism, sex, and the drudgery of ordinary living. He lived in L.A. and based all his writing around the city. He wasn't noticed much in America at the time, but Europeans celebrated him. Today, he is very popular the world over, with a dedicated fanbase and numerous academic studies being made about his life and work.

Bukowski: On Film is a volume written by Marc Shapiro that tries to list out the movies that were about Bukowski, by Bukowski, or based on the work of Bukowski. This is a tough work because, like his scattered collection of numerous poems and stories, a lot of the movies based on his works are condemned to obscurity. Many of the first-time directors who created them changed their fields, and many others consider them too benign to revisit them. To his credit, the writer has painstakingly tried his best to find out the majority of them and include the details in this book. I received an advance review copy of this book from its publisher, Riverdale Avenue Books, through Netgalley in exchange for my feedback.

The book consists of seventy-six chapters, of which the first few give the readers an overview of the famed writer, his life, and his rebellious ways. Then each chapter describes a movie that has the Bukowski name associated with it. It can be deduced that Marc Shapiro is a true fan of Bukowski, and his thoroughness is evident in that he has included some really obscure movies that have only a very distant connection with Bukowski. For example, we find a chapter on a surfing film in which a Bukowski poem is read in the first few minutes, and then the remaining footage is surfing footage with other tunes playing in the background.

There is another chapter about his movie debut in a B-grade movie in which he plays a dirty old man for a few seconds with no dialogue. Then there are footages of his infamous poetry reading sessions, in which he appears fully drunk and creates tension by exchanging abuses with the audience. His forays into the Hollywood system through movies like Barfly are described in more detail in multiple chapters. His abhorrence towards the system comes through very vividly, though he is portrayed as a man of his words who respects the contracts and is always cooperating with his director and actors.

With many short chapters focusing on obscure movies, the book is never a deep study of Bukowski or the movies that have his stamp on them. The whole endeavour, while reading, appeared to me like an effort to just list the movies out before they fall into the darkness of perpetual oblivion. But once I put down the book, I am feeling that through all these short reviews and the descriptions of the production of the movies, a larger picture of the nonconformist dissident genius gradually forms. It becomes clear why many young people, who are eager to make their mark on the world, take up the poems and stories of Bukowski and decide to associate with them and make them their own by creating movies out of them.

 

Japanese Mythology in Film by Yoshiko Okuyama: An Overview

 Japan's emergence as a global pop cultural behemoth is all thanks to the sudden popularity of Japanese cinema after the Second World War, led by phenomena like Kurosawa and Godzilla. In a few decades, terms like kaiju, ninja, harakiri, and samurai became familiar all around the world. The next big things coming out of Japan were manga and anime. The interest in Japanese popular arts laid the way for an interest in Japanese history and mythology.

Japan was, for most of its history, a closed country, and even today, it shies away from opening its doors, both literally and figuratively, to outsiders. The main imports to Japan from an outside country were Taoism and Buddhism, which permeated the indigenous religious beliefs, rituals, and mythology centuries ago. So we find a collection of mythological elements that are very varied and different from other parts of the world, though with direct and pronounced Taoist and Buddhist influence.

In her book Japanese Mythology in Film, Japanese professor Yoshiko Okuyama attempts to connect popular Japanese cinema with its mythology. She uses a semiotics approach, identifying the signs and symbols present in movies and interpreting them. Eight movies that are national and international hits are analysed in this book, and different aspects of these movies that mirror Japanese mythology are described.

The book is divided into two parts. In the first part, the writer provides a basic knowledge of semiotics. It describes how semiotics is an efficient, though not the only, tool for analysing art works like books, movies, or plays. Semiotics helps us identify the signs in movies and determine how symbolic meanings are coded into them and transmitted to the audience. We are made aware of the concept of intertextuality, which is an important part of the semiotic analysis of a text. Other important concepts with which the author familiarises us are tropes and motifs and how a shot, a piece of conversation, or a recurring background score can have coded associations with mythology.

Part two of the book is devoted to the analysis of eight popular Japanese movies. The author determines where, in Japanese history and mythology, each of them belongs. For example, the movie Onmyoji is set in the tenth-century Heian era and contains a wealth of cultural props belonging to that time. The movie, which deals with occultism, is loaded with imagery and motifs from Taoist mythology. The author explains the historic context of the movie and provides an intertextual reading of it based on Taoist mythology.

Likewise, the Shintoist aspect of Onmyoji 2, folklore motifs in Spirited Away and Princess Mononoke, Buddhist motifs in Dororo and Departures, and other mythical symbolism present in Mushi~shi are explained in detail. The eighth movie that is analysed in the book is Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence. Along with Japanese obsession with dolls and the mythical belief that even inanimate objects develop consciousness, the modern mythology of cyborgs overlaps in this movie to provide a deeply philosophic message that makes the audience ponder about the future of humanity.

The author writes about the loss of cultural and mythological subtexts when a movie is watched by international audiences. Only the themes with global relevance and significance are recognised by even the greatest movie critics who are unfamiliar with the original culture and mythology. So much is lost in translation while subtitling or re-dubbing that what we get is only the gist of the wealth of vocal subtexts. At the same time, some of the motifs, themes, and intertextuality get lost even for the natives due to over-familiarity. Thus, the semiotic reading of such popular and internationally accessible movies will open new windows to viewers who are interested in a deeper subtextual and intertextual exploration of cultural and mythological motifs.

Book Review: How to Draw a Novel by Martin Solares

Novels, more than any other narrative artform, take you on a long journey—a transformative one that passes through extensive imaginary and lawless landscapes. They demand your commitment and compel you to bear it till the end, fluttering and oscillating according to its rhythm, making your emotions dance to its tunes. According to Milan Kundera, Gargantua and Pantagruel by François Rabelais, written in the sixteenth century, started it all, followed by Cervantes with Don Quixote. Novels were historically considered a rebellious, mutinous art form. They always refused to conform to any directives, regulations, or jurisdictions imposed by hegemonic authority.

But till the end of the nineteenth century, novels were largely confined by the limitations of space and time and adhered to a descriptive style. Twentieth-century novels broke these chains, and novelists started to explore new frontiers. The plot lost its prominence to style and structure. Modern novelists tried to rein in their impulse to describe the scenes and spoon-feed the readers, always striving for innovative means to convey the purpose in as few words as possible. Novels followed the breakout of poetry from the confines of rhyme and rhythm.

In his collection of essays titled How to Draw a Novel, Mexican writer and publisher Martin Solares explores the narration, craft, and structure of novels. Along with essays that detail different aspects of the construction of a good novel, they also contain drawings that represent the flow of many famous and popular novels, which helps us understand the methods used by their authors in their creation and also helps us realise why we found them great after reading. The book was first published in 2014 in Mexico in Spanish, and its English translation, done by Heather Cleary, is scheduled for publication. I received an advanced copy of the book from the publisher, Grove Atlantic, through Netgalley in exchange for honest feedback.

The book is composed of twenty short essays and numerous line drawings. Each essay elaborates on an important aspect of the creation of a great novel. Most of them are accompanied by drawings that further clarify how different authors practically tackled them and created masterpieces. Along with many reputed European and American novels, Solares introduces numerous novels and writers from Latin America and Mexico through these essays. This is the most tempting aspect of the book—you get a taste of books from totally strange novelists, most of whom I don't think are even translated into English.

As mentioned, Solares discusses different pertinent aspects of novels that greatly impact their valuation. Using several examples, he illuminates the process of developing a protagonist(s), the importance of a title and a beginning that are essential to capturing the reader's attention, and ways to end a story that make the reader remember the novel for the rest of their lives. He uses pictures to deconstruct the building style of different novels. For example, he demonstrates the evolution of novels from rather simple stories that are adorned with detailed descriptions into complex machinations that rewrite the concept of reality by breaking out of space or time.

The writer then explains how different inanimate things can be used to create meaning inside the reader's mind while reading a novel. In another essay, he explains the reason why in the novel Moby-Dick, there are long pauses in the narration, only to describe the nitty gritties of whaling and how The Catcher in the Rye stops the motion of time and defies the natural laws. We find a detailed analysis of the structure of crime fiction and the characterization of various detectives. Among other essays, we find an interesting and affectionate discussion on the form and structure of Pedro Paramo.

How to Draw a Novel by Martin Solares is a collection of poetic and evocative writings on one of the most modern narrative arts—the novel. He uses visual representations that can convey how a novel is structured and the crests and troughs in the narration. This book can enhance the reader's affection for novels, improve their understanding of them, and alter the novel reading experience to a better one.

Book Review: The Mantis by Kotaro Isaka

 Kabuto is a family man, living with his wife and a growing son and working in the sales department of an office supply firm. He tries very hard to please his wife, who always finds fault with him. His boy loves him very much but thinks of him as a bumbling husband who every time bends over backwards to appease his wife. But what they don't know is that he is also an assassin, one of the best in his trade, who specialises in taking out other professional killers. With his son growing up and his family's safety in mind, Kabuto wants to get out. But his manager, the Doctor, who assigns him jobs, is reluctant to relinquish him and tries every trick in the trade to retain him.

I have read the previous books of the Japanese writer Kotaro Isaka and like them very much for the craziness that they bring with them. Bullet Train, which is also made into a movie featuring Brad Pitt, is a crazy ride with the paths of many characters converging with each other, often ending up at each other's throats. Three Assassins is its prequel that focused a bit more on character development, though not compromising on the scale of thrills. That is the reason I was gleeful when the publisher, Random House UK, Vintage, offered me a review copy of the third installment of the series (christened Assassins) through Netgalley. The book is translated from Japanese by Sam Malissa. 

The Mantis thematically follows the path of the previous books on several fronts. It is located in a fictional (?) universe of professional assassins, featuring several of them with their own personal styles and morals. The novel tries to explore the moral code of characters who do essentially immoral activities like taking the lives of other humans. It uses black comedy very effectively to merge two universes—that of the common people who go on with their lives and the assassins who work in the underbelly of society. Narration of The Mantis also follows its predecessors by using a non-linear approach to story telling that uses multiple points of view, though at many points it made me wonder the need for such gimmicks in a novel that concentrates on a single character. We find the writer's entemophile compulsion of calling his hitmen with insect names continuing in this novel too.

As closely as the plot and structure follow the other books in the series, The Mantis also displays some major differences, which can severely affect the reading experience and the enjoyment that can be derived from it. For the majority of its length, the novel lacks a structured plot or cohesiveness. It revolves around the conversations between Kabuto, his wife, and his son. Most of the remaining time is spent between the Doctor and Kabuto, one trying to force a job on the other while the other trying to deflect it. The book is lacking in the shocking and breakneck action setpieces that were a predominant part of others. The plot focuses heavily on the familial story of Kabuto and his efforts to balance it with his secret identity. Although it is heavily implied that he is an efficient hitman, even when he displays his skills in certain scuffles, the narrative never tries to demonstrate it effectively.

It is the black comedy in the plot and the dilemma that the protagonist faces that become the saving grace of the book. Kabuto dodges his wife's questions and doubts better than he dodges the attempts on his life by other professionals. He is even in the process of documenting the wisdom that he has accumulated in years of working his way around his wife. His conversations with his son are insightful and warm. It is this relationship that pays off our wait in the final act, when events start unrolling. The part where he has to exterminate a hornet's nest at his wife's behest while he is targeted by a hitman who is also named Hornet is, for me, the most hilarious part of the book.

Of all the characters in all three novels by Isaka, I feel that the character of Kabuto is the best written. The author takes up more than half of the novel to establish him evocatively. He is funny, naive, loyal, dangerous, loving, philosophical, and tragic all at once. Even then, many of the nuances in his portrayal are cleverly hidden under his pattern of floundering behavior. His transforming moral stand from a ruthless killer to someone more compassionate, helpful, and regretful of his past misdeeds is depicted very effectively.

For me, The Mantis is equivalent to The Godfather 3, a decent and enjoyable enough attempt that fares far better than any average ones that populate the genre that it belongs to but is never able to attain the high benchmark that the previous installments already set.