Saturday, April 24, 2010

Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank: A vivid portrayal of a nuclear apocalypse

It is easy to think global when one speaks of nuclear war. There is the image of a globe with missile trajectories criss-crossing one hemisphere with another. Then follows great speeches, and international conferences, and then peace, and finally, nuclear winter and humanity's eventual decision on which path to take. Indeed, when we think of nuclear war we think of Stalin, of Kennedy...as time passes it is becoming less and less of a real possibility and more and more of a phantasm of the past.

In Alas, Bablyon, Pat Frank does not relegate nuclear war to ranks of an Ice Age or a Great Flood. He tells it through ordinary beings from a small town: they way they think, they way they react, and ultimately, the way they respond to the extraordinary calamity that befalls them. This portrayal repatriates a nuclear war into the land of possibility; and it makes for excellent telling for the future generations (like ours) who ought to be reminded of the spectre of a nuclear apocalypse. Here, in one book, is the justified paranoia of an entire generation, distilled, and commemorated.

Randy Bragg, the heir of a small political family who ends up in a state of is the protagonist and he guides. Characters such as the local doctor, Dan Gunn, is shown trying to make do with what they have (i.e. medicines geting more and more scarce) in order to surive. This 'heroism' is contrasted with the other possibility: hooliganism and opportunism. Indeed, Pat Frank illustrates how profound events such as calamities and wars can bring out the best and worst in man. Interspersed in the plot are both factual and hypothetical consequences of a nuclear war, such as radioactive jewelry, a small-town militia government, and dealing with increasingly limited resources.

The geopolitical background of the story is resurrected in the final lines of the story. The question of who won the nuclear war was raised, but it was deemed irrelevant. Why? Because the whole of humanity loses and suffers greatly in any such conflict. Pat Frank ends with a powerful and convincing argument against nuclear war but at the same time leaves us with the hope of humanity's indomitable spirit. Indeed, we may yet face a global calamity, but we too may yet brave the catastrophies that lie ahead of us in both the distant and not-so-distant future.

Friday, November 27, 2009

The Piano Tuner by Daniel Mason: Brilliant story, evocative rendering of British Burma

Daniel Mason creates a stunningly brilliant debut, combining his passion and knowledge for writing, history, music, and medicine in his debut novel, The Piano Tuner. First he conjures Dr. Anthony Caroll, that genius of a field physician in Burma whose successes in forging alliances with the locals makes him indispensible to the British Army. This interesting character demands for a rare Erard grand piano to be shipped to Burma, and when this piano, after the arduous journey, needs a tuning, the story begins, with Edgar Drake, a piano tuner whose specialty is with Erards, is commissioned to be sent to Burma.

We then see Burma through his eyes: the politicking within the army; the tiger hunt that has captures the attitude of the British towards their subjects, and the ultimate journey to an obscure village that has become Dr. Caroll's fortress. One cannot avoid the comparisons with Conrad's work, and although Mason is very promising in this, there is something quite lacking insofar as the depth of the main character is concerned. His concern for the piano, fascination with the doctor's work and chaste admiration for Khin Myo are valid, but somehow these things are not given basis.

The counterpoint of the story is the Erard itself, and Mason does excellent research in bringing back to life the piano technology of the 1800s. Of course as a medical student who studied malaria in the area, his elaborations on the medical aspects of the story are excellent.

I said that Daniel Mason has conjured a brilliant story, and at that, a story with an unexpected ending. Whether or not this ending is as successful as the rest of the tale is debatable, but there is no doubt that this story is beautifully done and Daniel Mason is a promising new author to watch out for.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Reunion by Fred Uhlman: Friendship destroyed by war

The casualties of war go beyond the physical. Those who die, die; but those who survive lose a part of themselves. And oftentimes losing a friend through death or separation is just as painful as losing a limb. People can endure suffering, but like battle scars or stumps, the pain will remain. As the narrator begins the novel: "He came into my life in February 1932 and never left it again."

In Reunion by Fred Uhlman, the narrator is 'reunited' with past when he receives a letter from his school in Germany asking him to subscribe to a war memorial for his schoolmates who died during World War II. This triggers him to nostalgia and reminiscence; thirty years ago was a child of Jewish descent living in Germany. Like any child he longs for companionship and finds one in Konradin von Hohenfels, a noble child who becomes his best friend. But their friendship, although sweet, was short -- the rise of the Nazis forces the narrator to flee to the US and loses most of his loved ones in Germany and cuts off his ties to his former homeland.

Then, after thirty years, he gets reminded of his past. For the most part, the recollection is on a nostalgic tone and he recalls the beauty of the land where he spent his childhood. He relishes at the experience of his friendship with Konradin. It bears no details of the suffering the narrator endured, it doesn't delve into the atrocities or the concentration camps, but we feel the pain. We feel the stormclouds moving in, darkening the innocent world of a child, who gets his first taste of racial discrimination when he had to be sneaked into his best friend's house lest the latter's parents be abhorred at the sight of him.

This novella, however short, adds to the vast body of writings devoted to that dark moment in history by offering a different, "minor", equally important, persective of the impacts of war.

Reunion is truly a hautingly moving story. Such is the pain that humans inflict upon themselves that past and present become worlds apart, and reunions of once-greatest friends can only take place in memory.

Miramar by Naguib Mahfouz: The truth lies somewhere within and between

In Miramar by Naguib Mahfouz, four contrasting versions of the same story are presented: four men take up residency at a lodging house; one young woman flees there from bondage and arranged marriage. The men are drawn to her; the younger ones desire her, burning the flames of jealousy and ultimately the death of one of them in which all become suspects.

Since the plot isn't that central, the element of multiple narratives doesn't achieve the status of "In a Grove" by Ryunosuke Akutagawa (adapted by Akira Kurosawa as 'Rashomon') in which the multiple narrative sytle was perfected. Even so, each point of view adds depth to the novel and helps portray the various faces of post-Revolution Egypt.

The central character, Zohra, is a woman who wishes to emancipate herself from a future of predestination and bondage. She seeks to pursue her own path in life through education, but the men who describe her through their unique narratives are sympathetic to her, but they still view her in a somewhat condescending attitude that was typical of their culture and times. Even so, their backgrounds differ in their view of her. The two elderly men look at her as if she were the past, and together with it their lost youth, their days of glory. On the other hand the younger men view her as they would the future -- they are desirous for it and are adventurous, optimistic.

Miramar serves as the venue for these interactions. Literally meaning "view of the sea", it is a glimpse of Egypt at the time of its writing. Men are fighting one another, though all seemed confused as to what they are exactly fighting for. Zohra, however, survives. John Fowles noted in his introduction, "She is Egypt herself". There then is hope in the writer's mind for the country he so colorfully portrayed and loved.

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Murakami: Inspiration and perspiration

Of course it was Thomas Edison who famously said that genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration - or something like that. Murakami, one of my favorite novelists, writes a book that shares his dual passions of writing and running (with focus on the latter). What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami is a candid memoir that shows how perspiration can be inspiration; running and writing goes side by side to drive the narrator to the success.

But the memoir is no Zen manual or inspirational memoir -- indeed there are no profound lines about reaching the finish line or stuff like that. The slim volume, like Murakami's novels, uses down-to-earth language, the same witty lines, and a very honest take on running, writing, and life in general. Here Murakami is not that masterful writer behind the scenes, putting dialogue on such unforgetable characters like Toru Watanabe of Norweigian Wood and Toru Okada. Instead, he is himself -- a shy person who gets apprehensive before a marathon, a writer who shares his , and someone truly

The determination of Murakami is impressive -- yet once again, instead of overthinking it, he doesn't search for meaning too much. He run because he simply wanted it; he just didn't seem to fit baseball and tennis. It is good that he applied the same passion and determination to writing. Thanks to that, we have the benefit of his books. This recent volume is one of them, and because of it I am inspired to run those miles as well!

Going back to Edison, inspiration and perspiration are those things that go hand in hand. Whether as athletes or artists, we need both. Whether 1% or 99%, the proportion doesn't matter. Ask Murakami and he probably will say the same thing. What matters is you do what you want and you follow through till the finish line.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

The Master of Go by Yasunari Kawabata: Breaking (and lamenting) the stalemate between tradition and modernity

Confronted with a changing world, there is the great temptation for a writer to use symbols to portray the ongoing change - to reminisce about the old times and somehow contrast the worlds old and new. In the case of Kawabata, a journalist who actually covered the events tht form the basis of The Master of Go, it would have been quite natural to use the battle between Old, invincible master and the young challenger to symbolize the changing world. But instead, Kawabata masterfully crafts intimate portraits of the people involved: the obsessed Master, the driven challenger, and the people around them. They then create the sense of change without telling about it, succeeding in what writers ought to succeed: showing, not telling, the message they wish to convey.

The story begins at the ending: the old Master is defeated, and eventually succumbs to death. Perhaps there is no plot at all to speak of, since the climax has already come. Yet the delight in reading the story does not lie in its plot, but they way each event is told: there is the narrator's sympathetic view of the Master, the sequence of scheduled games written in sparse prose, yet set in the most poignant of Japanese scenes: a hot spring inn and its old designs, the cherry blossoms, the trees... Minute details are very important in this short masterpiece.
The mental burden of defending his title proves too much for the Master, and his sicknesses force delays on the matches -- delays which the young challenger is not too keen to accept. This conflict causes headaches for the organizers, but the match pushes through. Mention is given of the old times when the master sets the rules; there is no need for strict regulations to govern the game. There are subtleties that a Go player may be able to appreciate more and of course there will be a lot of things that are lost in translation, but a reader who has no background of the game will still understand and appreciate the novel.

Even though it is a 'sad story', there is another theme, more subdued but equally overwhelming: that of beauty. No Western author will be able to beautify a game of chess, say, between . But for the author and his characters - the game is an act of beauty and regardless of how much Japanese culture has changed since their times, it remains so. Thankfully, Kawabata has given us a window to glimpse at it.

Monday, July 6, 2009

The Crazed by Ha Jin: Personifying a crazy bureaucracy

The ending of The Crazed by Ha Jin was tragic but it was a logical conclusion to all the events. Ha Jin started the story on a slow pacing- a daily, monotonous life featuring Jian and his professor, Jian and his fiancĂ©e’s letters, Jian and his colleagues, and the academic environment in post-Mao China.

Still evident in the novel are the shadows of the Cultural Revolution. The government, although it has softened a bit, is still portrayed as repressive, often unreasonable. But the corrupt officials- petty and big- are seen as unreasonable all the more. They – Ying Peng, Vice Principal Huang, and the others – are the ‘enemies’ of Professor Yang. And they are the more real and present enemies of the people, for all they care for is personal gain. In doing this, they are compromising more important things like literary scholarship; or in some cases they shatter the people’s faith in the system. Like Jian. The Tiananmen Square massacre was a turning point in his life, but it took the cunning of Ying Peng and her likes to drive him out of China – out of the seemingly ‘crazy’ existence.

Professor Yang’s enemies are also the same enemies that hamper the advancement of my country. They come in the form of government officials who care for nothing but their own good. Even in the academe, I know they exist. They disillusion the remaining idealists and turn them into cynics. These cynics leave the country like Jian; in some instances they turn corrupt as well, using the ‘if you can’t beat them, join ‘em’ mentality. Ha Jin did very well in Waiting. Highly commendable. But more commendable is the fact that he has sustained, even improved, his quality of writing in The Crazed.