Saturday, September 24, 2011

Notice to readers

Weblog Yahantei has been in retirement for a while now and will not be updated.

I've started a new blog here: http://cacrowley.blogspot.com. Please stop by.

Sunday, March 18, 2007

My Book on Yosa Buson

My book on Yosa Buson has recently been published by Brill. Take a look at its fabulous website!

http://www.lanticmedia.com/yosabuson/


It's a wonderful, exciting read! Lots of interesting historical information about haikai in the 18th century, and translations of Buson's verse and prose as well. Here's a brief description:

This book uses the haikai verse and paintings of the brilliant, innovative artist Yosa Buson (1716-1783) as a focal point from which to explore how Japanese writers competed for artistic authority in a time when popular responses to economic, technological, and social changes were creating the beginnings of a modern literature.
A good thing about it is that it addresses not only Buson's writing, but his haiga, or haikai painting, as well.

The web page above lists the table of contents. I'm working on getting some more "look inside this book" stuff into Amazon. That should be ready in the near future. And after that, podcasting? Maybe!

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Remembering Valentine's Day 1990

This is the anniversary of the day that Voyager 1 took a photograph of the earth from space that was the subject of Carl Sagan's most famous statements, in which he called the Earth a "pale blue dot." Here it is, for those of you who remember it, but especially for those who don't.

We succeeded in taking that picture [from deep space], and if you look at it, you see a dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there — on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors, so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light.

Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand. It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.

That's about as romantic a Valentine's Day wish as anyone could hope for. We miss you, Carl.

Saturday, February 03, 2007

February Already

Two things, not related.

The first is the inauguration of a new blog, which is the public website of my class this semester called Introduction to Japanese Culture. The blog is intended as a place for us to share information about Japan we find on the web, primarily from the websites of various English-language publications, like Kyodo, Asahi, Yomiuri, and Japan Times, among others. As of this writing, I'm the only one who's posted anything. I look forward to the future. The link is on the right, or here.

The second is a bit of verse having to do with February. After a disquietingly mild December, winter has settled into a dreary routine of very cold nights and chilly days. These lines have little to do with Atlanta, which has only the most rudimentary rail system. Still, in its mood, it has much in common with the weather now:

Beads of glass, pearls and diamonds
glint on rails strung out tensely into a dim beyond
below the stare of an indifferent moon
the shriek of steel flashing sparks and then
nothing as the city remembers it was still.
Wind stirs the only movement, bringing clouds
to further postpone the dawn.
Voices muffled into the grayness
grow indistinct and disappear.
Cold drizzle leaks without a sparkle
dripping into puddles that simply stand and don't reflect.
A dream struggles feebly against intruding cold
and loses its grip in all the slickness
slipping back into never into nothing
as pale light rises, reaching toward morning.


Old Phil in Pennsylvania is an optimist this year. It's something to be grateful for, and gives us something else to look forward to--along with the students' contributions to the aforementioned blog.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Ramen inventor

This article in the New York Times announces the passing of the inventor of instant ramen. It's hard to imagine that something so essential really had an inventor, but it did, and happily, he lived a long life.

Ramen noodles have earned Mr. Ando an eternal place in the pantheon of human progress. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime. Give him ramen noodles, and you don’t have to teach him anything.

Using the New York Times website requires registration, but it's well worth it.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Flying North

This week I'll be traveling over the cold windy sea into the night of a northern winter. I've been thinking about Yeats a bit recently, and was looking to see if he had written anything to take with me--something about geese perhaps, or cold lonely places. This isn't quite what I wanted to find, but it has its own charm:

The Realists

Hope that you may understand!
What can books of men that wive
In a dragon-guarded land,
paintings of the dolphin-drawn
Sea-nymphs in their pearly wagons
Do, but awake a hope to live
That had gone
With the dragons?

To anyone who finds him- or herself in a strange place this winter: I wish you warmth and happiness as the year draws to its close, and the earth (in the north, at least) pauses for a rest before turning back towards the light.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Emerging from Absence

This, gentle reader, is a fabulous site. It is beautiful to look at and extremely friendly to the user:

Emerging from Absence

Run by David Ewick of the Chûô University of Policy Studes, it collects poetry and prose in English about Japan, starting in the 19th century.

I found it by looking for discussions of Pound's Vorticism on the web; a quotation from it that refers to haiku is here.