Yesterday was the only day I go to school this week and next, and guess what? On the one day I happen to go to school, I get a package. There are only a few stragglers on campus, and certainly no one in the department, just me.

"It's either work or an important Christmas card," I tell Mr. Fedex as he attempts to hand me the package.

"It's from a CB," the he said and looked at me in anticipation.

Aaah, CB. A former student who graduated a year ago. She's was as cute as a button, and as sharp as a tack. One of the best and most insightful student I had in my Lit in Translation course. She often came to office hours to say "hi" and chat a bit, and we got to know each other pretty well considering that she never studied anything else related to Japan. She told me that she wanted to invite me to a "distinguished student dinner" last year, but refrained as it conflicted with my late class. I ended up going anyway when another student asked me. I never pass up a free dinner.

Anyway, the last time I saw CB was at the end of Finals period last academic year. She came by the office to say "good-bye" and tell me that she enjoyed the classes from her "favorite teacher." We hugged and she left for bigger and better things on the West Coast.

"Ah, my girlfriend in California," I smiled at the delivery dude.

He grinned as I signed for the package, and he descended down the hall seemingly pleased at the thought that he was delivering joy instead of work over the holiday season.

I knew better, of course. I sighed, opened the package and pulled out what any experienced professor would have easily deduced before opening it: a request for a letter of recommendation with all the relevant documents. *sigh*

Merry Christmas Eve everyone!

"Takes a licking but keeps on ticking."

That's how an old Timex commercial went after abusing the watch by placing it in  a stram of water, or run over by a car. I think they had an elephant step on it once, although it actually broke. Hahahah. Well, after this semester, with all the extra work as coordinator, but the same heavy teaching load, I'm beat. Like that Timex watch, I too took a licking, but I keep on ticking even with this, as of today, 53 year old body...

Next Fall semester, I have an extra slot to teach.... ha! Like I need another course to teach! So I've submitted the following proposal for the Dean's seminar to teach a course on The Tale of Genji.

Genji, the Shining Prince, was not just about a dilettante and playboy, although I can understand such comments by students in a survey course of Japanese literature. But when a student compares this icon of Japanese literature to a suspect on MSNBC’s “To Catch a Predator”—even in jest—I am compelled to consider a course dedicated to a deeper appreciation of one of the masterpieces of Japanese literary history, The Tale of Genji. A Dean’s Seminar would provide an appropriate venue for such a course.

Misconceptions concerning the Genji are not limited to my students. The Japanese novelist and nun, Setouchi Jakuchō, regards Genji’s actions as more than seduction: “It was all rape, not seduction.” If Setouchi—a recognized “expert” on classical literature in Japan—can make such a comment in a New York Times interview (1999.05.28), then comments such as those uttered by my students should not surprise anyone. Using an abridged version to accommodate a survey course, that covers more than a thousand years of poetry, chronicles, diaries and essays, simply compounds the problem. All available abridged versions primarily cover the early chapters when Genji is young and sexually active. As a result, even an astute reader such as Virginia Woolf fails to capture all that the Genji has to offer. In a review of the first volume of Arthur Waley’s Genji translation, Woolf writes: “Some element of horror, of terror, of sordidity, some root of experience has been removed from the Eastern world so that crudeness is impossible and coarseness out of the question, but with it too has gone some vigour, some richness, some maturity of the human spirit.” (Vogue, Late July, 1925) Such conclusions, based only on the first few chapters, are unfortunate but inevitable. Time, effort and, of course, reading the entire text are necessary to appreciate fully the Tale of Genji.

The Genji, written by Murasaki Shikibu (b. ca. 973-d. ca. 1014), provides a view into the culture of the Heian court, a place both foreign yet somehow familiar. For example, political power was controlled by a branch of the Fujiwara family, a control based on political maneuvering: Through the mid-Heian period, Fujiwara leaders arranged for their daughters to become the primary wives of succeeding emperors, ensuring their position as imperial advisor/regent by virtue of being the grandfather of the crown prince. In the Genji, this legitimacy is challenged when the Genji—charismatic and beautiful since birth—is born of a lesser imperial consort. His mother is literally bullied to death and the emperor’s primary wife reveals herself to be an evil step-mother, coddling her own son the crown prince while tormenting Genji. The emperor, all too aware of the situation, ensures his son’s safety by assigning Genji to a distant branch of the imperial line, thereby disassociating him from any issue of succession.

However, knowledge of the political and cultural realities of the time is not the only requirement to appreciating the Genji. Japanese literature is notorious for its open-endedness. Anyone who has read “In a Grove” by Akutagawa Ryūnoske—later made into the film Rashōmon—will have experienced the Japanese sense of non-closure. This is certainly the case in the Genji, in which the main character dies with one quarter of the story remaining. The narrative continues, focusing on Genji’s descendants and how they are influenced by his past actions, whether by karmic affect or a confluence of circumstances. The effect on the reader is an appreciation of the open-endedness of life as portrayed in a story that seems to continue on regardless of the absence of the protagonist. Life goes on no matter who dies.

A course on the Tale of Genji will deal with topics such as these, through readings of the main text and selected secondary sources. The main text is a recent translation by Royall Tyler (2001). The fact that it is in translation should not detract from any appreciation of the tale; Tyler has provided a translation that is remarkably faithful to the original, making it just as accessible as the Genji monogatari translated into modern Japanese for college students in Japan. Secondary sources will provide insights that will lead to deeper discussions and analyses of the story. Ultimately, the course will reveal the vigor, richness and maturity of the human spirit in the Genji that was lost on Woolf, while encouraging diversity in thought and flexibility in opinion for our incoming Freshmen through an understanding of a world centuries away.

The talking heads on TV keep talking about how this is going to be record voter turnout. So I woke up early and headed for the polls at 5:45 AM... and there was a line...

But it wasn't too bad of a line. The polls opened at 6 AM and I cast my vote at 6:50, fulfilling my civic duty.

While I was standing in line there was a stout lady in front of me. She said she was from New York and she certainly talked and talked and talked like one. But it helped pass the time as she offered her opinion on everything in the world. After voting, I looked her way, gave her a nod and told her to have a nice day. When I arrived home and got out of my car, I still heard her voice. "You're my neighbor?"

Huh?

The lady I had talked actually live on the opposite block of townhouses where I live. I've been living here for over 8 years now and have never met her. It took Decision '08 to meet a new/old neighbor.

Go figure.

Keep in mind that you should vote. There was a time when many people I knew said they thought their vote didn't count anyway. "I'm only one vote. What's the dif?" Well, it's a big "dif". If everyone said that, no one would vote. It is you right and your obligation. I don't care who you vote for, or who you support. But the person who goes to the White House will determine the way our future plays out. So please vote. 

But I'm getting worried. I'm busy enough as it is, but now I have to stand in line for hours, maybe? Why doesn't Virginia have early voting like other sane states? Is this like the old fashion Poll Tax that prevented poor Blacks from voting back in the day? Now the working poor are forced to take half a day from work in order to vote.

I swear, if I have to wait more than a couple of hours, I'm gonna write to my congressman. I thought Tim Kaine--VA governor--was Obama's buddy? I would have thought that he'd figure out ways to increase the number of polling places and invest in new voting machines, or keep the poll places opened longer--as it is, its 6 AM to 7 PM. I go to sleep aroun 4 or 5 AM anyway; maybe I'll just stay up and be the first one to vote.

I wake up today and find out that Wachovia has melted down. I don't want to get too graphic, but I swear, I thought I'd find bricks in my underpants. WTF is going on? I mean, I have a CD in Wachovia, not a big one, mind you. I am a man of modest means, but geez, do the freakin' fat cats exemplified by those on Wall Street and in the current administration have to take this away from me, too? By having allowed less regulation and oversight in order to scheme new ways to get even richer? Think sub-prime loans, derivatives, et al..

Thank God for Citicorp. They bought out Wachovia and absorbed billions of dollars in losses, but it kept little guys like me from jumping out windows. I mean, I live pay check to pay check, saving virtually nothing because prices continue to go up while my salary remains static. I'm trying to figure out which part of the economy is strong. I must be in the wrong place because I don't see it anywhere near me.

Who said the fundamentals of the economy are strong anyway? Who said that we are a nation of whiners? Who said that the person she supports--McCain--could never run a corporation like HP?

I swear, who doesn't think we need a change?

This semester has been hectic. My colleague has been reassigned and most of the work the we had divided between the two of us has been placed in my lap. It's the end of the 4th week, and I can't wait 'til Christmas. But then, I always say that around the 4th week.

Anyway, this weekend was Alumni Weekend at our school. I started this Friday participating in a workshop on the issues of teaching Chinese characters. It was interesting enough as the faculty members from Chinese, Japanese and Korean all had different approaches and methods of teaching. The basic philosophies are so different. In Chinese, there are a kazillion characters to learn, but they are usually read in one way, whereas in Japanese, each character maintains its original Chinese pronunciation--although it has been altered significantly by the Japanese--as well as a Japanese pronunciation that they applied to it semantically. To make matters worse, depending on when the character and concept arrived in Japan, there can be two different Chinese pronunciations and two different Japanese ones.

女： female. Chinese: nyu. Japanese: (Chin) nyou, jo; (Japn) onna, me.

Anyway, the workshop was nice enough. From 3 PM, I signed up to stayin our department to welcome any alumni who decided to drop by for Alumni Weekend. But as we were setting up our conference room, we noticed a large suitcase tucked under the desk we keep in the hallway. A colleague and I asked the others if they knew anything about it. No one knew. The suitcase was rather dirty, pushed beck beneatht the desk in an obvious attempt to conceal it, and had a sticker on its side that read: "Screened: Dubai International Airport." We decided that maybe security should take a look at it.

When the campus police came, they immediately determined that it was suspicious, they blocked access to the area--which actually blocked us into our corner of the building--and contacted their supervisors who then came to confirm the threat. The building was evacuated and we descended down the back emergency stairwell. Soon, the campus police presence was everywhere, sirens whirred as police vehicles cordoned off the streets around the building, and explosive's sniffing German Sherpherds went in and out the building.

After two hours it was safe to return. As we waited, my colleagues and I talked with a member of the Homeland Security response team--yes, they took this very seriously--and he said they identified the owner of the suitcase, apparently a student who carelessly left it there for reasons we'll read about soon in the school newspaper--I don't expect it was even a blip on the media radar on a day when the Obama and McCain debate dominated their attention.

I was hoping to get some grading done while waiting for anyh possible alumni to show up, but the events of the afternoon squashed that plan. But there was no bomb and everyone was safe. I guess that was as good a way to start the weekend as any.

Wow, I can't believe I got over 400 views on my last post. I guess there are a lot of people concerned about the issue.

For that past few weeks, I've been catching up on stuff I have to do to prepare for the new academic year. Now, school has started and I find myself swamped as usual. Actually, more so. The program director was reassigned to duty at our language lab as acting director, leaving me with the duty of running our program. And, man, is there a lot on my plate now. I think I might need to change jobs.

Anyway, I hope to find the time to write as Xanga is very cathartic for all of us, right?

The furor caused by the Spanish basketball team is not nearly big enough, as far as I'm concerned. That a National team can pose for an advertisement and joke about their appearance in the Beijing Olympic by making slanty eyes is incredulous.

I first heard that they said it was a joke. One of their players said it was a playful "wink" at their hosts. Indeed, he thought it was "appropriate" and an "affectionate gesture." I have read that Li Ning, the Chinese sports wear company--the Nike of China--sponsors the Spanish national team, so the odds of the team intentionally insulting the Chinese is low. Whatever. If nothing else they were simply stupid. Maybe not racist, but definitely stupid. Their insensitivity may be blamed on ignorance--and did I mention stupidity?--but that excuse is not longer valid for their tennis team which decided to take a similar photo "in support" of their basketball team.

Are all Spanish people of the same opinion? That it is alright to mock a physical characteristic of another race? Do they not know the effect of their actions? I have had this done to me a number of times when I was a kid, mostly by those of Mexican descent amongst whom I grew up in East LA, when they called me "ching chong chinaman", or "jap". I'm pretty sure these actions and words were not expressed with affection and it did not feel appropriate to me. That the Spanish Olympic team is incapapble of comprehending their actions is mind boggling. And what are we to make ot the general silence by the Spanish people? Is this a reflection of their social values?

Personally, I am insulted.