The Bamboo Sword

The Problem with Tipping

2009-03-12T10:29:00.005+11:00

Let's get something straight: I'm not a cheapskate. I don't mind paying for stuff and paying for it appropriately. But having been in the US for several days now, I have developed a real distaste for the whole culture of tipping.

Why, you may ask? Because it doesn't produce better service. The quality of service isn't any better or any worse in the US than it is in countries where tipping isn't the norm. I've eaten in restaurants from Seattle to Seoul, and there is no correlation between the extent to which tipping is used as a supplement to the wages of waiting staff and the quality of service from those staff. Why doesn't it produce better service? Because it is expected: a gratuity that must be given.

What's worse, not only doesn't it work, but it undermines the whole point of being helpful and friendly. In a US restaurant, I'm not sure whether the waitress smiles because she is genuinely happy to provide her service, whether she's after a bigger tip or whether she's making a pass at me (okay, she's probably not making a pass at me, but you know what I mean). Being nice is cheapened, because a doubt about the motive is created. And that doubt lingers even after you've stepped from the restaurant. Tipping prostitutes something that should be given of freely. We should be helpful and courteous because it makes us feel good, and it makes others feel good. We should take pride in what we do regardless of how lofty our employment is, and respect the genuine effort of others without cheapening it by making it all contingent on money being exchanged.

I'm not a tree-hugging hippy advocating free love, but we're all human beings, and we deserve to treat ourselves and those around us with respect and dignity. If someone should be getting paid twenty dollars an hour, then pay them that. Don't cheapen the whole experience by forcing them to smile their way to a decent income. It doesn't improve the quality of service, it doesn't make anyone feel good. It doesn't work.

(Like) I'm in California

2009-03-09T16:03:00.008+11:00

Wow. Nine months since my last post. I guess life gets in the road. Or maybe I was just waiting for something to write about, and now I've found it. I'm in California on business, and California is the place of impressions (both banal and profound), so I'm going to write about them.

That's right. California. The place where the word 'like' is so frustratingly common that it probably needs to be made an article in the English language, where being blonde is de rigeur and where the sun really does seem to shine more than it does in Queensland. I landed in LA, like, and immediately proceeded through the bus-terminal-like (that was a real 'like', as in a proper use of the word to indicate a simile) airport and to a waiting hire car. And then it was straight out of LA--via the traffic on highway 10340772-I (whatever that means)--and on to Santa Barbara. Along the way I had a strange sense of disconnection. The signs I passed by made me feel very much embedded in a Hollywood cop show, sitcom or song; Sunset Strip, Venice Beach, Santa Monica Boulevard, Beverly Hills, Malibu, Orange County flowed past me until I wasn't sure whether the experience was real or whether I'd been transported by Wonkavision into some TV programmer's idea of Heaven.

But then I reached Santa Barbara, and all was made good. What a beautiful town, even if it was populated by said blondes with brightly coloured shopping bags bearing all the right labels. The Spanish architectural influence shines through in a way that isn't tacky at all, not like when you see it on the Gold Coast. And the food that I did get to try--vegetarian mexican with fried black beans, tofu and (admittedly tasteless) cheese--was actually enjoyable, if not necessarily as richly flavoured as I might expect in Melbourne. I spent a day realising that underneath the cliche that first confronts you when you arrive in America were warm people who were proud of who they were and just wanted to help. It was easy to spend a day in Santa Barbara. The Santa Barbara Museum of Art was exceptional, with a brilliant collection of Asian artifacts (pictured will be posted up as soon as I can), the courthouse was beautiful inside and out and free, with a view from the tower that would cost money most places, and the town itself was about as picturesque as one could imagine, recalling the adobe walls and laced ironwork of an era long past. An archeological site (that's right, in the most hip of hip places), El Presidio de Santa Barbara, matched any historical site in Europe as far as transporting one back in time goes. Yes, not as grand as the abbey ruins in Canterbury or as culturally alien as tombs from pre-historic Japan, but transporting nonetheless, and somehow more immediate. You could feel Lt. Jose Francisco de Ortega pacing the Presidio after even 225 years, wondering how to protect the Spanish territories from the English and the French.

But such a day had to end, and that night took me to Lompoc, a town atmospheric for a very different reason. At Lompoc, and in the surrounding Santa Ynez valley towns, I saw less class and more kitsch. I also finally articulated my problem with tipping. And, somewhat unexpectedly, I once more touched on the wonders of America. But that's for the next episode, where I 'll tell you how I experienced Obama, Denmark, Hiroshige, olives and coffee all without leaving the States.

Menuki (what?)

2008-07-24T13:52:00.004+10:00

A fellow student and I recently discussed the placement of menuki as part of a sword's koshirae. The question at hand was whether menuki were actually placed to align with the palm of the hands on the tsuka. None of the iaito in our dojo had the menuki placed thus, but that constituted only anecdotal evidence. Ross' book 'In Search of Mishima's Sword' claims that real swordsman placed the menuki to support grip, but he doesn't cite a source, making it hard to establish the veracity of his claim. So I went looking elsewhere, and came across this reference, which states that:

"From a pure functionalist point of view, menuki was basically born out of rather pragmatic demand to serve primarily as “mekugi osae” or the cover (or lid) over mekugi pin. Examinations of old Kara-tachi and Kazari-ken koshirae made in Nara through early Heian periods, such as the ones in Shosoin Museum and Tokyo National Museum, tend to confirm this functional origin of menuki among the earliest styles koshirae. (See Ogasawara, 1994 for photos.)

However, soon its secondary function to serve as a pair of ornaments began to be emphasized equally (Suzuki, 1995). Additionally, many other “latent functions (i.e., not originally intended or obvious but still important eu-functions)” were discovered (e.g., tactile indicators to tell the correct orientation of the edge or correct “tenouchi,” palm swells, status/rank symbols, religious charm, etc.). Then over the course of the evolution of Nihon-to koshirae, those secondary and latent functions of menuki seem to have taken over its “manifest function (i.e., originally intended and well recognized purpose)" completely."

This offers an explanation of sorts.

My Daemon 'Hermonystra'

2008-04-10T21:33:00.003+10:00

I've just finished reading Northern Lights, filmed as The Golden Compass. Visiting the movie site, principally to see if they were making the sequels, I realised I could answer some questions and get my own daemon, so I did. You'll have to read the book to know what that means, but here she is nonetheless...cute, huh? And the description of me is spot on. Right? Right!?

Places of note

2008-03-23T16:52:00.010+11:00

I've come across a great blog for those of you interested in reading about ancient Japan written by 'Nagaeyari, an amateur historian with an interest in early Japanese history'. Ancient Japan is full of snippets of information, as well as a serial introduction to Japanes history from the (almost) mythological past through to more recent events. The Samurai Wiki is another great resource. This wiki has a number of interesting links, including to the Samurai Archives History Journal, a soon-to-be-published journal on that topic we all know and love. Guidelines for authors are included for all those professional and amateur history buffs out there. Frog in a Well/Japan is another informative blog, and it includes plenty of links to sites that delve into all things oriental. Plenty of good reading. Subscribe using RSS and you'll always have something fascinating in your e-mail tray. I've included links to these sites in the Links section, for convenience.

The Problem With Synthesis

2008-02-24T14:00:00.005+11:00

OK, here is my rant against journalistic fairness. The other day, I was listening to a journalist report both sides of the Climate Change debate. On the one hand, the journalist referred to statements from, amongst others, the IPCC panel, Ross Garnaut and Graham Pearman. On the other hand, the journalist listened to a range of other commentators, including representatives of the automative transport industry, leading businessmen and so on. The idea was to present a balanced view of the climate change debate; you know, 'is it due to human activity or not', 'will it have a significant impact on us', 'what can we realistically do about it?' I suppose journalistic integrity calls for both sides of an argument to be heard, but I think we're taking synthesis a little too far. Sometimes, one side really is just wrong. The irritating thing about this particular coverage was that one side (the side disputing the evidence for climate change) was appealing to ideology to justify its arguments. You know, something like, 'but when I was young we had terribly hot summers' or 'what about all the rainfall in Queensland at the moment'. When science was quoted, it was misquoted. 'The weather is cyclical and has been for forever', meaning of course that this time is no different.

Well, look at the hard science, the facts, the things we observe and measure. Put aside the ideology. This is different. No cycle has ever been this dramatic before. No evidence exists, indeed, of any change in temperature or greenhouse gas levels that mimics what we're seeing today. Putting even that consideration aside, we know that the uptake rate of greenhouse gases by the deep ocean (which is the primary method of removal of these gases) is considerably slower than our rate of production. It isn't an issue for debate. It's just reality. So all those journalists who give the ideologues a voice to maintain journalistic integrity may as well be giving a voice on climate change to two year olds (apologies to all well informed two year olds who might be offended by this). Synthesis, this notion that both sides might have a point, is valid when we're talking about entirely subjective matter -- you know the sort of thing I mean: which movie is better; whether classical is worth listening to more than pop; whether crocodile really does taste like chicken -- but not when we're talking about observable phenomena. Anyone who argues that the sky isn't blue, despite the evidence to the contrary, isn't presenting a valid alternative view. They're just delusional.

Ichigo, Ichie (一期一会)

2008-02-03T16:39:00.000+11:00

The term ichigo, ichie is inscribed on the side of my bokuto, just below the tsuba. I see it frequently, about half the time that I draw my bokuto from its saya, but I don't always notice it. Recently listening to an interview with Dave Lowry, the author of (amongst other things) 'Autumn Lightning: the Education of an American Samurai', I was reminded of the ichigo ichie concept and why I'd had it put in such an overt place.

Ichigo, ichie is literally 'one time, one meeting', but it might also be interpreted as 'one moment, one life' or 'one chance in lifetime'. [1] In the interview, Lowry was using the concept specifically to emphasise the distinction between western fencing and Japanese fencing: in particular, that western fencing tends towards a battle of attrition, with fencers succumbing to prolonged blood loss from many deep cuts and lacerations, while Japanese fencing tends towards short and brutal.

But Ichigo ichie is clearly of broader relevance to martial artists. For example, it shapes our attitude to the practice of koryu. When we practice kata, we must respond to the moment that is and not to the moment that was or that might be -- in other words, we need to avoid the tendency to intellectualise during the event, to pause and analyse, or to deconstruct as if deconstruction makes sense within a kata that is sensible only as a whole. Furthermore, each kata in Tatsumi ryu [2] ends with a moment of zanshin, a state of relaxed alertness. In zanshin, we are open to the moment and what it holds, not revelling in our victory or thinking of the battle's end. Again, this is a perfect embodiment of the idea of ichigo ichie.

Ichigo ichie extends to guiding our everyday attitude. We experience each moment only once, and so we should live within it, notice it, respond to it as if it is the only moment we will know. The message is simple and yet, in our hectic lives, we seem to regret and hope, when we might just be. I'm as prone to this as the rest, and so I had the characters engraved on my bokuto. Now all I have to do is notice them when I see them.

[1] See Dave Lowry's article here for further discussion.

[2] Keeley, L 1999. 'The Tojutsu of Tatsumi Ryu, Murphy's Law, and the K.I.S.S. Principle', Sword and Spirit: Classical Warrior Traditions of Japan v2, Berkeley Heights, NJ:Koryu Books

iPhone and iPod Touch -- less can be more

2008-01-15T12:59:00.001+11:00

OK. I finally went out and bought an iPod Touch. I'm an Apple fan (I guess) and I've always wanted a pda/iPod converged device (I would have bought an iPhone, but Australia still hasn't received it -- officially, at least). Since I've bought it, I've received a litany of 'this is why the iPhone/iPod touch is crap' from people who don't own either. In response to this, I'm about to voice my opinion on this ill-informed and unwanted rhetoric. So, here are the arguments and my rebuttals:

1. The iPod Touch (iPhone) is rubbish because it doesn't do x, where x is anything from GPS to record video to cut-and-paste to have a SD card slot. Clearly the iPhone doesn't do everything. Now, I'm not an everything type of guy. I don't cary a Swiss Army Knife in my pocket. I drive a car that doesn't have climate control or seat warmers or an mp3 player or an electrochromic rear vision mirror. But even if I were, this argument is specious. Just because something does three times as much doesn't mean it's three times as good. In fact, functionality count is almost completely unrelated to utility. Ever tried using a Swiss Army Pocket Knife to build a fence? Ever bought an all in one drill/saw/angle grinder? Why not? Because sometimes, more is less. The iPhone is a great device not because it does lots of things, but because it does what it does well. It is designed with the human in mind, with use in mind, not with an exhuastive feature list in mind. Its usability is supported by the significant rise in the iPhone as a mobile browser: it has achieved something like 0.13% of all browsing market share within 6 months of its release. Compare that to the approximately 0.06% achieved by Microsoft mobile over the last 10 years. See the figures as of January 2008 if you don't believe me. Why? Try browsing on the iPhone or the iPod touch and you'll find out.

2. The iPod/iPhone touch is rubbish because it's a generation 1.0 device. In other words, it has a whole host of problems and omissions that will never be fixed, and the next version of the device will therefore be better. If the iPod Touch were like most other mp3 players (and if the iPhone were like most other phones), this would be true, because then its feature set would be etched in stone from the day it was sent into production. But it is more like an Apple computer: with each update to the OS, new features and functionality are added. When it first came out, the two devices lacked the ability to support GPS-like location in Google maps. As of update 1.1.3, they now have that capability. When the iPhone first came out, it couldn't send multiple SMS messages. Now it can. At the moment, they don't have a cut-and-paste function. They soon will. Unlike most equivalent products, these two devices are evolving with each update, becoming easier to use, adding new features, but never aiming for Swiss-Army-Knife-levels of functionality.

3. There are no applications to add to the iPod touch or iPhone. Suggesting, of course, that this indicates that the iPod Touch/iPhone is not feature rich enough already. First off, refer to point 1 above, and consider that most of the apps (which, of course, are available, despite peoples' claims) are games and things that are, ultimately, more for amusement value than anything else (of course, my opinion only). Secondly, a vibrant third-party apps community with hundreds of apps exists for the iPhone and iPod Touch, post jail breaking. Thirdly, an SDK is due out this month which will see the rise of officially supported apps. Fourthly, webApps already provides additional functionality through a web interface.

4. The IPhone isn't 3G. Of course, this doesn't apply to the iPod Touch, but nevertheless, the argument is: it isn't 3G, so it's slow. Perhaps it is slower than a broadband connection at home, but try browsing on the 3G N95, and you'll find that it isn't so much about the connection speed as it is about the speed of browser rendering. The lack of 3G is one aspect of the iPhone that won't be changed until version 2 is released, but unless it is vitally important for you to send streaming video or very large images any second of the day, this really isn't an issue. Browsing is fine, and e-mail is more than fast enough. And of course both devices support wifi, and when you're attached to wifi, 3G really is the poor alternative.

5. The virtual keypad doesn't work properly -- it's too slow. The spelling correction on the iPhone/iPod Touch, plus the predictive key enlargement, make typing a breeze. I have had several phones, including a Palm Treo with full keyboards, and they are no faster. Try it first. Like anything, you need to get used to it to really appreciate its effectiveness.

So, given all this, is there anything wrong with the iPhone or iPod touch? Of course. They're comparatively expensive. It might be argued that they (the iPhone in particular) has too little storage (although if you want your entire music collection on the go, get an iPod Classic). And finally, they aren't completely compatible with older accessories. But having used the iPod Touch for some time, I can say that it is probably the most effective converged mp3 player/pda I've ever seen. Try one for more than few days and you'll discover that less really can be more.

The View from the Bottom

2007-06-28T06:19:00.001+10:00

Last night, at training, my form wasn't particularly good. I've been a student of Tatsumi Ryu for several years now, and it was frustrating to be making so many basic mistakes. I came home all pent up, and sat down at the computer, trying to think of things to do to relieve the negative energy I felt. I jumped onto Flickr, and immediately saw the photo above. In that moment, this photo, taken last year in the Otway Ranges National Park, wasn't a group of trees. It was a metaphor for where I stood in Tatsumi Ryu and for the many who had climbed to lofty heights before me. It might have simply added to my woes, this symbol of my inexperience, but there is a bright glimpse of sky through those trees. Those trees are all looking up too, at the clouds, which have climbed higher still.

A Tatsumi Ryu Snapshot

2007-06-22T18:55:00.001+10:00

I study Tatsumi ryu (立身流 Tatsumi-ryū Hyōhō): a Koryu, or classical tradition. It originates in the Sengoku Jidai period in Japan, and was founded by Tatsumi Sankyo, who was born in what is now Ehime Pefecture, on Shikoku Island. I won't delve into the history or essential principles of the system; after all, it isn't my place as a student to be telling the world about Tatsumi ryu. For that, I suggest visiting the Wikipedia entry here or Liam Keeley Sensei's home page here. But I thought people might be interested in seeing photographs of the art. Some are available at the links above, but I have a couple of interest that aren't available (or, at least, not in the resolution I've provided them). The photographs were taken by Neill Smith in 2006.

Without giving too much away, it is worth noting that this particular ryu obviously uses more than the sword. In fact, it classifies as a sogo bujutsu: an integrated, composite martial arts system. It is a privilege to have the opportunity to study it.

Along with the links above, anyone interested in the koryu should at a minimum read Hunter B. Armstrong's "The Koryu Bujutsu Experience" in Koryu Bujutsu: Classical Warrior Traditions of Japan (by Koryu Books). It is a very good essay on not only the historical qualities of the koryu, but also the philosophical and technical distinctions between the classical arts and modern budo.

Katori Shinto Ryu -- you must read this!

2007-06-20T12:23:00.001+10:00

Koryu.com, one of my listed links, has just produced a new book that any serious student of Japanese martial arts should get their hands on. It is dual language, with many black and white photos throughout. While is concentrates on omote techniques, it is nevertheless a valuable resource if you're interested in gaining an insight into the thoughts and techniques of one of the greatest living swordsmen.

clipped from www.koryu.com

New from Koryu Books:
Otake Risuke's Katori Shinto-ryu: Warrior Tradition

My New Katana

2007-01-02T10:09:00.002+11:00

In keeping with my koryu bent (for an indepth discussion of koryu, visit Koryu Books), I have bought a new car. 'A new car?' you ask. Yes, a new car. It is the type of car that anyone fascinated with Japanese Sword Arts should buy, because it is the automotive equivalent of the katana. 'What is it?' I here you say. Drum roll...wala.

Yes, it is a Mazda MX-5. Like the katana as a sword, the MX-5 isn't the most powerful or weighty of cars, but it is sublimely agile and designed for a single purpose: to fuse driver and car as one. It does what it was engineered to do to perfection. Here in Australia, it won Wheels Car of the Year in 2005, which is our most prestigious car award. Read the article, and it gives you a taste of the absolutely joy the MX-5 is to drive. It has also won a host of other awards, and has been otherwise buried beneath voluminous pages of praise.

I had half a mind to get a private number plate that reflected the MX-5's purity of concept, but private number plates are, basically, a bit silly (apologies to any who own one).

Merry Christmas From Sunny Oz

2006-12-25T12:40:00.000+11:00

Just a quick post to wish everyone out there a Merry Christmas. Have a safe and enjoyable holiday season...

Sword Furnishings

2006-12-16T20:05:00.003+11:00

It's been a long time in preparation, but finally I have another installment of images, this time of koshirae, from the Japanese Arms and Armour exhibition I attended some months ago. This chapter is longer, with more images, which are (of course) again available if anyone wants a copy--not that anyone asked last time.

Koshirae (the sword mountings with fittings that form a principal artistic part of the Japanese sword) are an art in and of themselves. They form an important part of the making of the sword, and often reflect particular virtues and interests or other symbolic meaning. To keep this entry short, I'll not delve into the thematic content of each piece or the history of koshirae in general. If you want more information on Japanese sword furniture, see Koshirae: Nihon Token Gaiso - The Mountings of Japanese Swords by C. U. Guido Schiller.

The following notes have been borrowed directly from the display text that accompanied the exhibition (except where text is in yellow). All credit for the technical notes goes to the Benalla Art Gallery and the Australian Society for the Preservation of Japanese Art Swords.

1. Tsuba (sword hand guard)

PERIOD: late Edo period (19th century)
MEI: Suruga Takaoki Inshû jû (d1856)
SUBJECT: Goose in long grass
MATERIAL: Iron

Takaoki (his personal name is Hayata Chujirô) was the son of Suruga Takashige and was ninth hereditary master of the Suruga of Inaba.

PERIOD: late Edo period (19th century)
MEI: unsigned - attributed to Ichijôsai Hirotoshi
SUBJECT: Battle of Mount Ishibashi
MATERIAL: shakudo, subject in raised iroe takazogan in shibuichi

This tsuba is unsigned but a similar signed work bearing the name of this artist is in the collection of the Museum of Decorative Arts, Copenhagen. The identification has been endorsed by the Japan Art Sword Preservation Museum.

PERIOD: Mid Edo period (ca 1700)
MEI: Signed on reverse Naoyuki (of the Hamano school)
SUBJECT: Kanzan and Jittoku with Tiger
MATERIAL: Iron

‘Kanzan and Jittoku’, a temple cleaner and poet-monk, are a popular Zen subject of Chinese origin.

2. Kozuka (a small knife with a decorative metal handle inserted in a slot in the scabbard of a sword)

PERIOD: mid Edo period (ca 1700)
MEI: Hamano Naoyuki
SUBJECT: tiger
MATERIAL: shibuichi

I am particularly taken by this kozuka. The intensity of the tiger's face is striking; in particular, the tiger's eyes are filled with a human intelligence that I find intriguing.

PERIOD: mid Edo period (ca 1740)
MEI: Tsu Jimpo
SUBJECT: A samurai mounted on a tiger chasing an ogre
MATERIAL: shakudo nanako with coloured metal overlay

Tsu Jimpo (1720-1761) belonged to the Awa branch of the Gotô school. He was a student of Naomura Masamichi and of Gotô Tsujô, the 9th master of the main Gotô line. This piece shows the official courtly Gotô style.

3. Set of Tsuba, Fuchi and Kashira

PERIOD: late Edo period (19th century)
MEI: Ishiguro Ichiju with kao
SUBJECT: crests
MATERIAL: shakudo nanako with iroe takazogan

The Ishiguro School was founded by Ishiguro Masatsune I (1760-1828). Ichiju was either a son or a pupil of Masatsune’s son Koretsune. While the Ishiguro School is characterised by its use of vibrant colours, the understated design of this set expresses the formal and subtle taste of the higher-ranking samurai.

4. Kogai (a small skewer-like utility implement inserted in the scabbard)

PERIOD: Late Momoyama/early Edo period (ca 1600)
MEI: unsigned – attributed to Ko Gotô
SUBJECT: Dragon entwined around Buddhist sword
MATERIAL: shakudo

5. Menuki (pair of carved metal ornaments under hilt binding)

PERIOD: Edo period (ca 1780)
MEI: unsigned – attributed to Mito Kuni
SUBJECT: Temple guardians (Nio)
MATERIAL: shibuichi

---------------------------------
That's all for now. I'm very pleased with the photos. I hope you're enjoying them as well, and the small amount of technical information I have on them. Keep an eye out for the final part of this exhibition, focussed on the blades and their mountings.

My Son's First Grading

2006-12-13T20:51:00.000+11:00

Anna and I went to watch our son's first grading in Tae Kwon Do today. He's preempting the rest of the class, because he can't make the grading day this Saturday. We were so proud, watching him perform his kicks and punches, all with a kiai full of enthusiasm and energy. Daniel is naturally energetic, and Tae Kwon Do seems the perfect form of catharsis--I wish I'd been able to catch it on film.

It struck me while I was watching that children receive instruction and correction with a wonderful sincerity. Perhaps it's the degree of trust they place in their teachers, perhaps just their inherent nature or perhaps their innocence--whatever it is, children seem to leave the ego at home when they learn. Daniel and his training friends were completely open, like sponges soaking up plankton. My pride gets bruised on occasion when I'm training. Certainly I strive to do everything perfectly, but the more I think on it the more I wonder whether (sometimes, at least) my effort is purely egotistical. Daniel wants to learn because learning is a wonder to him. I'm sure that, sometimes, I want to learn to satisfy some inherent competitiveness in me; I want to be better than the man I'm standing next to. So, today Daniel taught me something, although completely unwittingly. Note to self: learn for the sake of learning. I suppose this is what Lao Tzu meant when he admonished us to retain the child.

Which leads me to a big thank you to Hall's Tae Kwon Do here in Melbourne. Great job.

Kafka on the Shore

2006-12-12T21:32:00.000+11:00

I've just added a new book to my list. Kafka on the Shore is a contemporary novel with strong elements of myth and Campbell's heroic voyage. A marvellously subtle piece that has Western structure, but Japanese sensibilities. This is the first Haruki Murakami novel I've read, but I'll certainly be getting my hands on more of his work. His writing has a quirkiness that blew through me like a breeze.

Murakami is Japan's Franz Kafka, but with an ease and optimism all his own: Kafka on the Shore is an existential 'whodunnit', a tale which questions our perceptions of what is real and what isn't, our relationships with the present and the past and what it means to be alive. It's full of tangents and asides, wonderful digressions onto topics as diverse as music, film and philosophy--Murakami is apparently fond of music, and musical motifs feature pretty heavily in all his works; in fact, his website list all the music referred to in his writings, which probably says more about him than any blurb I could write--but everything remains connected and relevant. Reading it felt like solving a riddle or traversing a maze; every corner seems richly complex and yet undeniably part of a whole.

Get it and read it, and fall into the world of the boy named 'Crow'.

Japanese Armour

2006-11-11T18:42:00.000+11:00

Recently, I attended a 'Japanese Arms and Armour' exhibition at Benalla, in country Victoria; it was a long drive and the exhibition was limited, but the visit was fascinating and well worth the effort. This is the first of several posts showing the exhibition's contents. All photos were taken using a Nikon Coolpix 5400 mounted on a tripod. The gallery staff were obliging enough to let me take the photos, provided I didn't use a flash. Luckily, the lighting was great. I was also fortunate enough to attend on a week day, obviating the need to contend with crowds.

The photo above shows an iron eboshi kabuto (helmet) coated in red lacquer and rising from a four-plate iron hachi (bowl). It dates from the mid-Edo period (1750-1800), but is fashioned in the shape of the Heian period (782-1167) eboshi, worn by courtiers and high-ranking samurai, reminding us that fashion truly is cyclical.

The menpo (face mask) dates from the same period as the kabuto. It is shaped with an open mouth and a horsehair moustache. While it looks like a russet iron surface, the maedate is actually iron covered in lacquer, just like the helmet. The maedate is in the form of a katsumushi (dragonfly). The body of the dragonfly is constructed of brass, while the wings are hinged and detailed with black lacquer. All in all, the piece was well preserved and striking to behold: the katsumushi is particularly engrossing, with exquisite detail.

The katsumushi or tonbo (the name more familiar to modern readers) is a common motif on Japanese arms, armour and clothing. The term means 'invincible insect', and for the bushi it represented courage and perseverance in battle. It is also referred to as the kachimushi, or 'victory insect'. The power of the motif is uniquely reflected in Tonbogiri, the Dragonfly Cutter. Tonbogiri was one of three legendary spears made by the swordsmith Masazane (active during the Muromachi period), and was so named because a dragonfly (perhaps apocryphally) landed on its blade and was instantly cut in two.

Unfortunately, this was the only piece of armour at the exhibition, but a number of swords and associated fittings were also on display. Plenty of photos and information will follow, so I hope you like this sort of thing. Larger versions of the photos are available upon request, provided they are not used for commercial purposes; they make good wallpapers.

I would like to acknowledge the generosity of the members of the Australian Society for the Preservation of Japanese Art Swords, who made their collection available for public viewing. I'd also like to thank the Benalla Gallery, which did a wonderful job of putting these beautiful objects on display.

I'm now on Technorati

2006-11-09T20:38:00.000+11:00

This blog business is completely new to me, but I've discovered that exposure is necessary. So now I'm listed on Technorati, which I hope is a good thing...

Technorati Profile

Hizakurige

2006-11-08T20:30:00.000+11:00

My son and I went for a bike ride today, and I took the opportunity to dash into the local second-hand book store. I purchased several books, pleased with my finds, but I glimpsed something special on the way out: a Tuttle first edition of Hizakurige (膝栗毛), Ikku Jippensha's (十返舎一九, 1765-1831) classic comedy. It is, ostensibly, a novel about the adventures of two misfits, Yajirobei (彌次郎兵衛) and Kitahachi (喜多八), as they travel on the road from Edo to Kyoto. But it is really a travelogue, composed by Jippensha between 1802 and 1809 as a serial. Thomas Satchell first translated Hizakurige in 1929 as Shank's Mare, and that genuine first edition is apparently quite valuable. As far as I can tell, the 1960 Tuttle edition I now hold, essentially a reprint of Satchell's original translation, is itself quite a find; Amazon reports only three used copies for sale.

I was initially drawn to the book purely by its cover: a wood block print by one M. Kuwata (a Japanese woodblock artist from the 1950s). I was already tempted by the promise of something simultaneously new and antiquarian, but I was sold (or, rather, the book was) when I flipped open the cover to find that this edition was accompanied by the little-known fifth version of Hiroshige's The Fifty-three Stages of the Tokaido. The fifty-five full-colour prints (fifty-three stages plus the prologue and epilogue prints) are sprinkled throughout the book. I stood in the bookshop momentarily stunned. In my hand I held two wonders in one volume: a tale of old Japan I'd not read, and a set of nostalgic woodblock prints, admittedly small, by Hiroshige.

As to Jippensha, he was the son of a minor official and worked in administrative posts himself, at least until he turned to literature to earn his livelihood. Apparently, he had little patience for hypocrisy or pomposity, hating priests and contemptuous of swaggering samurai. One wonders how much of the humour in Hizakurige disguises a more sober social commentary. Perhaps ironically, he is buried in the grounds of the Zenryuji, at Asakusa, Tokyo; how it must grate on his spirit. Three years after his death relatives and friends raised a monument to him, with an inscription and a poem. The poem reads:

My allotted span of life has passed;
Oh, give me peace and rest at last!

The companion inscription is particularly apt, and I quote one part:

[T]hings of which people never tire are a bright moonlight night and dinner, to which may be added a book and sake.

Well, Mr Jippensha, I don't have any sake, but I have your book, and methinks it will suffice. Kampai!

What's in a name?

2006-11-08T20:13:00.000+11:00

The Bamboo Sword: Hints of kendo, perhaps? Or a derisory reference to all those who pretend at swordsmanship? Neither, actually. It's the title of a short story by Shuhei Fujisawa, printed recently in the collection "The bamboo sword and other samurai tales" by Kodansha International. Fujisawa's story inspired, at least in part, Yoshi Yamada's The Twilight Samurai, which is well worth seeing if you haven't yet seen it. In both the story and the film, the protagonist is so impoverished that he has sold the blade of his katana, replacing it with a bamboo substitute.

'Yes, alright!' you say. 'But why have you chosen it for the title of this site?'

Well, because the idea of a bamboo sword appeals to me. In Yamada's The Twilight Samurai, Seibei is a modest character, contented not by his status as a warrior but by the joy he finds in his two daughters. The bamboo sword symbolises his dedication--a sacrifice made for the love of children--and also his humility, a virtue I respect and aspire to, even if Nietzsche did label it the refuge of the weak. In both Fujisawa's short story and Yamada's film, the bamboo sword is not the handicap one might expect: Seibei is a warrior, and a warrior is not defined by the weapon he wields, but by the mind with which he wields it. In fact, the faux sword is actually a strength, rendering Seibei's opponent Yogo reckless and falsely confident.

One night not too long past, while sharing a meal, my sensei asked me to consider a koan: what is a swordsman without a sword? I hesitated, not wanting to embarass myself. But, while the image of Seibei didn't immediately arise, I like to think he had some hand in prodding the answer from my subconscious. The Bamboo Sword is a nod, then, to Seibei; I hope it does him justice.