Hock G. Tjoa's Blog, page 3
July 26, 2016
Review of The Ninja and the Diplomat
The following is a recent review in Goodreads and Amazon of The Ninja and the Diplomat, vol. 2 of my series, The Chinese Spymaster. Volumes 1 and 2 have already been published - see the tab "Books" above; volume three is planned for end 2017, early 2018. This review by Michael Brandt is reproduced with the author's kind permission. As the writer, I am glad of any attention to my books and especially appreciative of positive reviews.
======
I knew I would enjoy this book as soon as I read "The tyranny of Aristotelian unities." This a politically rich thriller involving the intersection of weapons dealing, intelligence services, and geopolitical unrest set in multiple East Asian countries. Despite how those first two sentences must sound, this is a fast-paced story with plenty of physical action.
The writing is solid throughout, and downright masterful in parts. It is mostly purely functional, which keeps the pacing progressing rapidly. I personally would have preferred if it had slowed down and the author eased away from the functional to show some more of his flair and extend individual scenes. In this way, some smaller dramas and conflicts could be added to bring individual chapters more to life and augment the overarching one, and certain emotional scenes could be intensified. But that's a purely personal preference that not all readers would agree with.
The POV bounces between quite a few characters, some more identifiable than others. In some places I got the sense that the characters were less important than the content, which is educational and insightful. It effectively shows real and complex political issues from differing perspectives. If you prefer your politics in black-and-white and your fiction in good-versus-evil, you might not like this, but if you recognize reality then the style should appeal to you.
I was prepared to be annoyed by the inclusion of a ninja, which most media presents in a farcical caricature of reality. But to my relief, the author handles it well, providing a reasonable explanation of his presence and presentation of his abilities.
Might be a little hard for readers unfamiliar with the history and geopolitics of the region. As a former student of international relations, I found it quite interesting. The author provides a helpful map, but I still found myself wondering whether readers unfamiliar with things such as the circumstances and consequences of the American occupation of The Philippines could be thrown off.
Overall, I'd recommend this to readers who enjoy spy thrillers and anyone with even the slightest interest in Asian geopolitics.
Here is a link to the review on Goodreads
and another to the same review on Amazon
======
I knew I would enjoy this book as soon as I read "The tyranny of Aristotelian unities." This a politically rich thriller involving the intersection of weapons dealing, intelligence services, and geopolitical unrest set in multiple East Asian countries. Despite how those first two sentences must sound, this is a fast-paced story with plenty of physical action.
The writing is solid throughout, and downright masterful in parts. It is mostly purely functional, which keeps the pacing progressing rapidly. I personally would have preferred if it had slowed down and the author eased away from the functional to show some more of his flair and extend individual scenes. In this way, some smaller dramas and conflicts could be added to bring individual chapters more to life and augment the overarching one, and certain emotional scenes could be intensified. But that's a purely personal preference that not all readers would agree with.The POV bounces between quite a few characters, some more identifiable than others. In some places I got the sense that the characters were less important than the content, which is educational and insightful. It effectively shows real and complex political issues from differing perspectives. If you prefer your politics in black-and-white and your fiction in good-versus-evil, you might not like this, but if you recognize reality then the style should appeal to you.
I was prepared to be annoyed by the inclusion of a ninja, which most media presents in a farcical caricature of reality. But to my relief, the author handles it well, providing a reasonable explanation of his presence and presentation of his abilities.
Might be a little hard for readers unfamiliar with the history and geopolitics of the region. As a former student of international relations, I found it quite interesting. The author provides a helpful map, but I still found myself wondering whether readers unfamiliar with things such as the circumstances and consequences of the American occupation of The Philippines could be thrown off.
Overall, I'd recommend this to readers who enjoy spy thrillers and anyone with even the slightest interest in Asian geopolitics.
Here is a link to the review on Goodreads
and another to the same review on Amazon
June 11, 2016
Defending God
In the ancient Near East, when the gods detected gross impropriety in their ranks, they subjected their own to trial. When mortals suspect their gods of wrongdoing, do they have the right to put them on trial? What lies behind the human endeavor to impose moral standards of behavior on the gods? Is this effort an act of arrogance, as Kant suggested, or a means of keeping theological discourse honest?--from the book blurb.
The book with this arresting title was written (2005) by James L. Crenshaw, Robert L. Flowers Professor of Old Testament at Duke University. He is the author of many books, most recently The Psalms: An Introduction (2001) and Education in Ancient Israel: Across the Deadening Silence (1998).
In a continuing search for guidance on how to treat the issues raised by the book of Job, I had come across a reference to this tome and have tried to read it. Much of it examines ancient near eastern texts (the title of a collection by James B. Pritchard edited and published in 1950) - from Egypt, Mesopotamia, but including at least a question from Epicurus, "whence evil if there be a god?"
That I believe is the question Job and similar middle eastern texts (Akkadian, Ugaritic, Sumerian, Egyptian, among others) address. Further I believe that it is really only a "hard" question if one believes there is one god as opposed to many. Herakles /Hercules had to live with many afflictions, but I think he might have taken comfort in the knowledge that these were the doings of a jealous goddess (Hera) who intended to defy and discomfort Zeus. That was no doubt small comfort to one sent to clean out the Augean stables, but at least it meant that Father Zeus was not guilty.
What I mean is that if there are two high/ultimate powers in the universe and one was responsible for the good things that happen and the other for the bad things in human experience, then the question - how can a good God allow evil in this world - would not arise. Literally, it was the devil that did it.
The story of Job begins with a scene in heaven in which Satan or "the Satan" gets God's consent to wreak havoc in Job's life. Why then is there no further reference to Satan in the rest of the book? Neither Job, nor any of his friends, nor Yahweh when He finally speaks, refers to Satan as the origin of the evil that befalls Job. The problem of the justice or righteousness of God, theodicy, would not arise if the arguments in that book accepted the premise that there is a evil "principle" as well as a good god in the universe.
This question, therefore, is meaningless in a dualistic theology and perhaps even more so in a polytheistic context. Gods, more or less equal to each other, do good or evil as is in keeping with each character. One might even accept the conclusion of the Barong dance in which good and evil battle to a DRAW. (The image to the right was downloaded from Wikimedia Commons on June 11, 2016; this work has been released into the public domain by its author, Zsolt67 at Hungarian Wikipedia.)
But Job believed in One God, holy and almighty. Any evil in the world created and sustained by that God, raises the question, "why does a good God allow evil"? There were answers of sorts in Crenshaw's work, but I take no comfort in Mesopotamian parallels or Ugaritic myths.
I found it particularly offensive that a passage that seemed to promise further light on this question led to a foot-note that referred to a previous publication by the author. I wished the author had treated the question substantively and not as an opportunity to display his academic achievements. I hope to address Job's question in a current writing project that I plan to complete by the end of this year.
The book with this arresting title was written (2005) by James L. Crenshaw, Robert L. Flowers Professor of Old Testament at Duke University. He is the author of many books, most recently The Psalms: An Introduction (2001) and Education in Ancient Israel: Across the Deadening Silence (1998).In a continuing search for guidance on how to treat the issues raised by the book of Job, I had come across a reference to this tome and have tried to read it. Much of it examines ancient near eastern texts (the title of a collection by James B. Pritchard edited and published in 1950) - from Egypt, Mesopotamia, but including at least a question from Epicurus, "whence evil if there be a god?"
That I believe is the question Job and similar middle eastern texts (Akkadian, Ugaritic, Sumerian, Egyptian, among others) address. Further I believe that it is really only a "hard" question if one believes there is one god as opposed to many. Herakles /Hercules had to live with many afflictions, but I think he might have taken comfort in the knowledge that these were the doings of a jealous goddess (Hera) who intended to defy and discomfort Zeus. That was no doubt small comfort to one sent to clean out the Augean stables, but at least it meant that Father Zeus was not guilty.
What I mean is that if there are two high/ultimate powers in the universe and one was responsible for the good things that happen and the other for the bad things in human experience, then the question - how can a good God allow evil in this world - would not arise. Literally, it was the devil that did it.
The story of Job begins with a scene in heaven in which Satan or "the Satan" gets God's consent to wreak havoc in Job's life. Why then is there no further reference to Satan in the rest of the book? Neither Job, nor any of his friends, nor Yahweh when He finally speaks, refers to Satan as the origin of the evil that befalls Job. The problem of the justice or righteousness of God, theodicy, would not arise if the arguments in that book accepted the premise that there is a evil "principle" as well as a good god in the universe.
This question, therefore, is meaningless in a dualistic theology and perhaps even more so in a polytheistic context. Gods, more or less equal to each other, do good or evil as is in keeping with each character. One might even accept the conclusion of the Barong dance in which good and evil battle to a DRAW. (The image to the right was downloaded from Wikimedia Commons on June 11, 2016; this work has been released into the public domain by its author, Zsolt67 at Hungarian Wikipedia.)
But Job believed in One God, holy and almighty. Any evil in the world created and sustained by that God, raises the question, "why does a good God allow evil"? There were answers of sorts in Crenshaw's work, but I take no comfort in Mesopotamian parallels or Ugaritic myths.
I found it particularly offensive that a passage that seemed to promise further light on this question led to a foot-note that referred to a previous publication by the author. I wished the author had treated the question substantively and not as an opportunity to display his academic achievements. I hope to address Job's question in a current writing project that I plan to complete by the end of this year.
April 24, 2016
A spy thriller for smart readers
The Wishing Shelf Book Awards
(which provided the title above as a catchy phrase I can use as well as the full report below)
This book was recently entered in The Wishing Shelf Book Awards. This is what our readers thought:
Title: The Chinese Spymaster
Author: Hock G. Tjoa
Star Rating: 4 Stars
Number of Readers: 19
Stats
Editing: 8/10
Style: 7/10
Content: 9/10
Cover: 5/10
Of the 19 readers:
12 would read another book by this author.
3 thought the cover was excellent.
7 thought the Chinese setting was the best part of the book.
7 felt the text was often a little too complex and difficult to follow.
5 felt the pacing was too slow.
Readers’ Comments
‘Behind this very simple cover is a pretty interesting spy story. The author is an academic and this shows in the style of the writing. If you enjoy the simplicity of Clive Cussler, this is not for you. There is a strong political element to the story and there is a lot of ‘telling’ and not ‘showing’, speech being sparse and a little wooden. As a result, it feels cold and reminds me of a newspaper article.’ Male reader, aged 45
‘This is a rather thoughtful book. It is NOT an action-packed thriller but I don’t think the author wants it to be. What it is, is a thoughtful, well-researched looked at political intrigue and terrorism dynamics. Where there is fighting, the author seems a little lost. Definitely for the high-brow thriller reader.’ Female reader, aged 61
‘There’s a lot of info in this story; so much so, it kills the pace. If you fancy a book which will help you to understand the complexity of Chinese government, then this is for you. If you want fast-paced adventure, try Jack Higgins.’ Male reader, aged 33
‘Very enjoyable story. I loved all the Chinese history and how cleverly the Spymaster plays the spying game.’ Female reader, aged 41
[The above is the report, "warts and all" as they say, from http://www.thewsa.co.uk/]
(which provided the title above as a catchy phrase I can use as well as the full report below)This book was recently entered in The Wishing Shelf Book Awards. This is what our readers thought:
Title: The Chinese Spymaster
Author: Hock G. Tjoa
Star Rating: 4 Stars
Number of Readers: 19
Stats
Editing: 8/10
Style: 7/10
Content: 9/10
Cover: 5/10
Of the 19 readers:
12 would read another book by this author.
3 thought the cover was excellent.
7 thought the Chinese setting was the best part of the book.
7 felt the text was often a little too complex and difficult to follow.
5 felt the pacing was too slow.
Readers’ Comments
‘Behind this very simple cover is a pretty interesting spy story. The author is an academic and this shows in the style of the writing. If you enjoy the simplicity of Clive Cussler, this is not for you. There is a strong political element to the story and there is a lot of ‘telling’ and not ‘showing’, speech being sparse and a little wooden. As a result, it feels cold and reminds me of a newspaper article.’ Male reader, aged 45
‘This is a rather thoughtful book. It is NOT an action-packed thriller but I don’t think the author wants it to be. What it is, is a thoughtful, well-researched looked at political intrigue and terrorism dynamics. Where there is fighting, the author seems a little lost. Definitely for the high-brow thriller reader.’ Female reader, aged 61
‘There’s a lot of info in this story; so much so, it kills the pace. If you fancy a book which will help you to understand the complexity of Chinese government, then this is for you. If you want fast-paced adventure, try Jack Higgins.’ Male reader, aged 33
‘Very enjoyable story. I loved all the Chinese history and how cleverly the Spymaster plays the spying game.’ Female reader, aged 41
[The above is the report, "warts and all" as they say, from http://www.thewsa.co.uk/]
March 12, 2016
Interview by Coreena
Author Interview: Hock G. TjoaMarch 3, 2016Coreena, the interviewer (I am the interviewee).
Her link --http://coreenamcburnie.com/2016/03/03...
Today I am excited to introduce Hock G. Tjoa, an eclectic author. I am partial ancient historical retellings, so can’t wait to hear more about his approach to these.What genre(s) do you write in?
I started with historical fiction, specifically, the retelling of an old Chinese classic that I selected from and translated. It is the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, with 120 chapters from which I chose twenty-three. I added short paragraphs to provide transitions for the sections and chapters that I omitted. Next I tried my hand at a spy novel and thought of a trilogy set in China but involving parts of the world that would be of concern from a point of view within that country. Action/thriller types provide what seems like cheap thrills and do not strike me as realistic so I accordingly wrote The Chinese Spymaster and The Ninja and the Diplomat with more awareness of interaction with political, bureaucratic, and personal issues.The Ingenious Judge Dee, A Play resulted from a question I asked friends about detective stories not set in the western world. I decided on writing that as a play because of an interest in community theater. I wrote Agamemnon Must Die because I had to read the Oresteia of Aeschylus in college and had been told that this was a foundation work for western civilization – but I never “got it.”Do you have a favorite passage you have written?I don’t know if one could call it a favorite passage when two people die, but I think of myself as not very emotional and in one scene I tried to convey the feelings at the death of two main characters in Agamemnon Must Die –“Aigisthos, no,” cried the queen as Orestes finally found the resolve to string his bow and brought it up with an arrow expertly, instinctively, nocked. In a fluid motion, the king swung Clytemnestra behind him so that he faced Orestes. It was forty paces between the two men. The arrow, aimed at the king’s heart, was a little low and pierced his abdomen. Dark red, almost black stains spread from the wound through his chiton almost immediately.
“Kill me too,” shrieked the queen.
Moving slowly and deliberately, like one whose will was no longer his own, Orestes raised his bow a second time and shot. This time the arrow found its mark and the queen fell as bright red blood spurted from her chest and stained her tunic.
The felled couple scratched slowly and painfully along the floor and crawled into each other’s arms.
“I love you, Aigisthos,” choked the queen gamely as she struggled to find breath. “You make my toes smile.”
“More; I wanted to love you more,” wept Aigisthos, fighting vainly to hold off the dark mist that flowed inexorably to cover his eyes and cloud his mind. He pulled the queen closer and laid his head on her shoulder as he slipped out of consciousness, out of life.
What are your favourite books and who are your favourite authors?I read a lot of new authors but my favorites are mostly older works like the science fiction of Arthur C. Clarke, the spy novels of John LeCarre, anything by Larry McMurtry or Salman Rushdie. Recently, I came across Louis B. Jones’ Particles and Luck and Radiance which impressed me as writing of a fantastic quality. I have also read all of the Narnia Chronicles, the adventures of Harry Potter and the works of Tolkien.What’s the best advice you’ve received as a writer?Revise, and get an editor, several in fact. Get others to read and critique your work. Ask for more help than you think you need (or can afford) with proofreading.What challenges have you faced in your writing and how did you overcome them?Finding the time and place to write regularly and the discipline to do so for two, three, or more hours a day, every day. I’m still working on this.What new projects are you working on or are excited about right now?A couple of years ago, I reread the Book of Job and was intrigued by how little I understood it since I remember having read it once or twice before with the sense that I understood it. So I am now trying to re-tell the story (most of which consist of arguments) as a novella. I also learned that John Calvin preached 158 sermons on this Book and have the urge to read those sermons one of these days.Thank you so much for being here today, Hock, and for sharing your books with us. I am fascinated by how you seem to write to understand something better. It’s coincidental, but I’m in the middle of writing a book about Clytemnestra, which relies on the Oresteia, as does yourAgamemnon Must Die.
About the Author:Hock G. Tjoa teaches Accounting at Sierra College. He was born in Singapore to Chinese parents, studied history at Brandeis and Harvard, and taught European history and Asian political thought at the University of Malaya in Kuala Lumpur. Subsequently, he attended the Business School at UCLA and worked in banking and finance. He is married and lives in the Sierra Nevada foothills of California.In 2010, he published The Battle of Chibi, selections translated from “The Romance of the Three Kingdoms” (one of four traditional Chinese classics). In 2011, he adapted Lao She’s “Tea House,” Mandarin original dated 1953, publishing it as Heaven is High and the Emperor Far Away, a Play. Both are part of his goal to contribute to a wider and greater understanding of China and Asia.Since then he has published The Ingenious Judge Dee, a Play and The Chinese Spymaster, volume 1: Operation Kashgar and Agamemnon Must Die, a retelling of Aeschylus’ Oresteia. Most recently, he published The Ninja and the Diplomat, volume 2 of The Chinese Spymaster series. He is working on a revision of The Battle of Chibi.
February 10, 2016
New Giveaway, Old Book
To revive interest in The Battle of Chibi, the first book I published, I decided to do another giveaway through Goodreads. I don't remember having done so for this particular title but thought I should do it (perhaps again) now. Anyone interested should click on the following "widget" from Goodreads. The Giveaway begins in a few days on February 15.
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Goodreads Book Giveaway
The Battle of Chibi
by Hock G. Tjoa
Giveaway ends February 25, 2016.
See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.
Enter Giveaway
The Romance of the Three Kingdoms (三國演義) is one of the four great Chinese novels. The other three are The Water Margin (shui hu zhuan/水滸傳 ), sometimes translated as All Men Are Brothers or Outlaws of the Marsh, Journey to the West (xi you ji/
西
遊
記
), and Jin Ping Mei (金瓶梅) often translated as The Plum in the Golden Vase. This last title is a translation of the given names of the three main female characters in it but in any case, this novel is often deemed too pornographic and hence substituted for by The Dream of the Red Chamber (紅樓夢). The most recent translation into English uses the title The Story of the Stone as the "frame story" to this classic is that of a sentient stone left over when the heavens and the earth were renovated.
My book, The Battle of Chibi, consists of twenty three chapters or portions of chapters (out of 120 chapters in the Romance) that I translated from the Mandarin in the long fit of boredom that afflicted me when I retired. Unwittingly, I thus embarked on the third act of my working life. The choice was not difficult to make. Although Pearl Buck thought much of The Water Margin and her translation of that work (as All Men are Brothers) is highly regarded, it is to me a tedious tale of banditry. There were 108 of those brothers or outlaws and not much that distinguished one tale from another of a good man driven into such a life by political or personal circumstances.
Nor was I attracted to the story of the Monkey King and the rivalry between Daoism and Buddhism that makes up the fantasy world of The Journey to the West. An occasional encounter with the paranormal would enliven my reading, and I enjoyed the shenanigans of the Monkey King as much as the readers of the Journey did though I much preferred the very short version published by Arthur Waley as Monkey. My preference is to take paranormal shenanigans in small doses.
The Dream of the Red Chamber mentioned above is another thing, telling of the fall of a family from high society and of young love among many sisters, cousins and aunts. It is also an academic specialization of its own. Scholars spend almost their entire careers in the study of its linguistic or literary nuances, as some might choose to study Shakespeare or Sophocles. It might be worth the trouble extricating the story from such a tangled fate, probably not as a selection and translation so as to avoid the parsing of phrases but as a selective retelling of the story.
Ah, another project.
.goodreadsGiveawayWidget { color: #555; font-family: georgia, serif; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; background: white; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidget p { margin: 0 0 .5em !important; padding: 0; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidgetEnterLink { display: inline-block; color: #181818; background-color: #F6F6EE; border: 1px solid #9D8A78; border-radius: 3px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; outline: none; font-size: 13px; padding: 8px 12px; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidgetEnterLink:hover { color: #181818; background-color: #F7F2ED; border: 1px solid #AFAFAF; text-decoration: none; }
Goodreads Book Giveaway
The Battle of Chibi
by Hock G. Tjoa
Giveaway ends February 25, 2016.
See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.
Enter Giveaway
The Romance of the Three Kingdoms (三國演義) is one of the four great Chinese novels. The other three are The Water Margin (shui hu zhuan/水滸傳 ), sometimes translated as All Men Are Brothers or Outlaws of the Marsh, Journey to the West (xi you ji/
西
遊
記
), and Jin Ping Mei (金瓶梅) often translated as The Plum in the Golden Vase. This last title is a translation of the given names of the three main female characters in it but in any case, this novel is often deemed too pornographic and hence substituted for by The Dream of the Red Chamber (紅樓夢). The most recent translation into English uses the title The Story of the Stone as the "frame story" to this classic is that of a sentient stone left over when the heavens and the earth were renovated.My book, The Battle of Chibi, consists of twenty three chapters or portions of chapters (out of 120 chapters in the Romance) that I translated from the Mandarin in the long fit of boredom that afflicted me when I retired. Unwittingly, I thus embarked on the third act of my working life. The choice was not difficult to make. Although Pearl Buck thought much of The Water Margin and her translation of that work (as All Men are Brothers) is highly regarded, it is to me a tedious tale of banditry. There were 108 of those brothers or outlaws and not much that distinguished one tale from another of a good man driven into such a life by political or personal circumstances.
Nor was I attracted to the story of the Monkey King and the rivalry between Daoism and Buddhism that makes up the fantasy world of The Journey to the West. An occasional encounter with the paranormal would enliven my reading, and I enjoyed the shenanigans of the Monkey King as much as the readers of the Journey did though I much preferred the very short version published by Arthur Waley as Monkey. My preference is to take paranormal shenanigans in small doses.The Dream of the Red Chamber mentioned above is another thing, telling of the fall of a family from high society and of young love among many sisters, cousins and aunts. It is also an academic specialization of its own. Scholars spend almost their entire careers in the study of its linguistic or literary nuances, as some might choose to study Shakespeare or Sophocles. It might be worth the trouble extricating the story from such a tangled fate, probably not as a selection and translation so as to avoid the parsing of phrases but as a selective retelling of the story.
Ah, another project.
January 16, 2016
Born Standing Up
Dying is easy, said a famous actor. Comedy is hard.
Actors and writers know all too well the truth of these lines. This is therefore a tribute to Steve Martin who wrote Born Standing Up, about a person he used to be.
"At age eighteen, I had no gifts," he disclosed in this engaging book. "Thankfully, perseverance is a great substitute for talent."
His high school jobs at Knott's Berry Farm and Disneyland had introduced him to the world of magic and comedy. Under the influence of a girl friend he gravitated towards studying - taking courses in - philosophy which gave him material for his early comedy routines. He is also a member of mensa but so far does not appear to have worked that into any comic work that I am aware of.
"I've decided my act is going ... avant-garde," he announced early in his career and elaborates in the book, "I am not sure what I meant, but I wanted to use the lingo, and it was seductive to make these pronouncements. Through the years, I have learned there is no harm charging oneself up with delusions between moments of valid inspiration."
He found in San Francisco "the cultural melange and the growing culture of drugs," that made the crowded streets of North Beach "simmer with toxic vitality." His years as stand-up comic made him aware of the loneliness of that calling. Unlike the teams that worked on shows like the Smothers Brothers, for which SM wrote until the show was cancelled due to political pressure, there was no team or band that congregated around a funny man. No "others" with whom to commiserate on a disastrous outing or to review a problematic performance or to plan a road trip.
SM likened the first time he did the Tonight Show to an "alien abduction: I remember very little of it, though I am convinced it occurred."
As this and all the above shows, the man is witty. But even he does not succeed in writing any scene of gut-heaving hilarity. Two scenes of what happened at the end of his stand-up routines when his audience declined to leave despite his best efforts and when he left by "swimming" over their heads, passed from out-stretched arms to others, come close in concept. I have to confess that visualizing them did not stimulate more than a chuckle, no more than the one-liners that fill this book.
He explored the psychology of comedy early on and concluded that the build-up of tension by a comic was often followed by an "artificial" release (punch-line). What, he wondered, if there is not any release /punchline? "What if I headed for a climax but all I delivered was anti-climax?" In many ways that was the essence of the SM brand. But it is not any easier to visualize or (I imagine) to perform. Certainly, to describe it would invite disaster.
His choice of the many comedians to which to pay tribute is interesting: Laurel and Hardy, the Smothers Brothers, the cast of Laugh-In, the team at Saturday Night Live, Don Rickles, etc. One wonders about the absence of Bob Hope, perhaps less so at the non-mention of Jerry Lewis. Pride of place was given to Johnny Carson who "enjoyed the delights of split-second timing, of watching a comedian squirm and rescue himself... He knew the difference between the pompous ass and the nervous actress and who should receive appropriate consideration... he served his audience with his curiosity and tolerance. He gave his guest--like the ideal America would--the benefit of the doubt: you're nuts, but you are welcome here."
Actors and writers know all too well the truth of these lines. This is therefore a tribute to Steve Martin who wrote Born Standing Up, about a person he used to be.
"At age eighteen, I had no gifts," he disclosed in this engaging book. "Thankfully, perseverance is a great substitute for talent."
His high school jobs at Knott's Berry Farm and Disneyland had introduced him to the world of magic and comedy. Under the influence of a girl friend he gravitated towards studying - taking courses in - philosophy which gave him material for his early comedy routines. He is also a member of mensa but so far does not appear to have worked that into any comic work that I am aware of.
"I've decided my act is going ... avant-garde," he announced early in his career and elaborates in the book, "I am not sure what I meant, but I wanted to use the lingo, and it was seductive to make these pronouncements. Through the years, I have learned there is no harm charging oneself up with delusions between moments of valid inspiration."
He found in San Francisco "the cultural melange and the growing culture of drugs," that made the crowded streets of North Beach "simmer with toxic vitality." His years as stand-up comic made him aware of the loneliness of that calling. Unlike the teams that worked on shows like the Smothers Brothers, for which SM wrote until the show was cancelled due to political pressure, there was no team or band that congregated around a funny man. No "others" with whom to commiserate on a disastrous outing or to review a problematic performance or to plan a road trip.
SM likened the first time he did the Tonight Show to an "alien abduction: I remember very little of it, though I am convinced it occurred."
As this and all the above shows, the man is witty. But even he does not succeed in writing any scene of gut-heaving hilarity. Two scenes of what happened at the end of his stand-up routines when his audience declined to leave despite his best efforts and when he left by "swimming" over their heads, passed from out-stretched arms to others, come close in concept. I have to confess that visualizing them did not stimulate more than a chuckle, no more than the one-liners that fill this book.
He explored the psychology of comedy early on and concluded that the build-up of tension by a comic was often followed by an "artificial" release (punch-line). What, he wondered, if there is not any release /punchline? "What if I headed for a climax but all I delivered was anti-climax?" In many ways that was the essence of the SM brand. But it is not any easier to visualize or (I imagine) to perform. Certainly, to describe it would invite disaster.
His choice of the many comedians to which to pay tribute is interesting: Laurel and Hardy, the Smothers Brothers, the cast of Laugh-In, the team at Saturday Night Live, Don Rickles, etc. One wonders about the absence of Bob Hope, perhaps less so at the non-mention of Jerry Lewis. Pride of place was given to Johnny Carson who "enjoyed the delights of split-second timing, of watching a comedian squirm and rescue himself... He knew the difference between the pompous ass and the nervous actress and who should receive appropriate consideration... he served his audience with his curiosity and tolerance. He gave his guest--like the ideal America would--the benefit of the doubt: you're nuts, but you are welcome here."
January 2, 2016
Voice and Point of View
The concepts of voice and point of view in writing challenges me continually. The first person narrative and the third person omniscient should be clear. But there were passages in Mo Yan's Red Sorghum that impressed me greatly because he wrote as if slipping in and out of the point of view of a pack of feral dogs. Further, an Indie writer, Lee Fullbright, wrote The Angry
Woman Suite, adopting the perspective of three characters in turn--Elysse, the step-daughter; Francis, the step-father, and Aidan, Francis' school teacher and mentor who is friend to both--but the novel impressed me with a single overwhelming, angry voice.
I understand that the third person omniscient is a dangerously alluring voice or POV for an author and one best left to the masters, but one of my favorite authors frequently employs--I am flabbergasted just to think about it--the FIRST person omniscient. How else would you account for a statement such as "To understand just one life, you have to swallow the world. I told you that"? (Salman Rushdie, Midnight's Children). I actually think that Shame was a greater work (though slighter in physical volume), but that too uses the same technique.
Christa Wolf's Medea consisted of eleven monologues, ranging from taut, focused lamentation to unbounded rage all part of a "riff" on the ancient Greek legend of Medea. I do believe that we are better off with that book than without, as far as understanding the Medea legend goes. If that has become a
category in psychotherapy, I am happy to say I am not aware of any such thing. Muriel Barberry's Elegance of the Hedgehog (some love this work, others don't) alternates between the first person voice of a concierge-savant and that of a child-savant. I suspect that the "savant thing" puts many readers off. Humility is not a common virtue among writers and it is probably more valued as a result.
Writers are cautioned about the use of the first person; it is by far the most intimate voice, but can you, the author, handle it? And can you handle it in a manner that connects with your readers? After one writes something like "Call me Ishmael," how does one sustain the story, the narrative? Notice that there are more first person narratives that are not in the voice of a Captain Ahab or a Sherlock Holmes. Somehow, one suspects that a reader is more likely not to feel connected to a monomaniacal whaler or a highly functioning sociopath of a detective, hence the function of the faithful "side-kick." Speaking of which, the TV series that cast an Asian woman as Doctor Watson has managed to inject a brilliant case of cognitive dissonance--what remains is to see how well the script-writing sustains this.
For a writer, especially one relatively new to the craft, the safest voice and point of view is that of the third person objective. One does not try to get into any of one's characters' heads. One observes and practices the craft of describing/showing as opposed to narrating/ telling. Just the facts ma'am. But.
Fiction should engage the reader just a little (or a lot) more. Hence, the POV often employed is the third person limited, which means the reader is allowed into the head of one character, usually the main character or the side-kick. That person is allowed to conduct "internal dialogue." Some style sheets have evolved to codify this by requiring italics without quotation marks. This gets us into some advanced areas that I would just as soon avoid for now. One can only read so many "how to" books on the art of writing.
Further, what happens when there are many characters and one does not wish to have the main character in every scene. Is the third person limited supple enough to to slip into the mind of the main character for the scene in one chapter and into that of another character in a different chapter? This is where writing dissolves into empiricism--what works? A writer should listen to reviewers. They are not all right nor always right; but they provide feedback to a writer as echo location functions for a bat.
Woman Suite, adopting the perspective of three characters in turn--Elysse, the step-daughter; Francis, the step-father, and Aidan, Francis' school teacher and mentor who is friend to both--but the novel impressed me with a single overwhelming, angry voice. I understand that the third person omniscient is a dangerously alluring voice or POV for an author and one best left to the masters, but one of my favorite authors frequently employs--I am flabbergasted just to think about it--the FIRST person omniscient. How else would you account for a statement such as "To understand just one life, you have to swallow the world. I told you that"? (Salman Rushdie, Midnight's Children). I actually think that Shame was a greater work (though slighter in physical volume), but that too uses the same technique.
Christa Wolf's Medea consisted of eleven monologues, ranging from taut, focused lamentation to unbounded rage all part of a "riff" on the ancient Greek legend of Medea. I do believe that we are better off with that book than without, as far as understanding the Medea legend goes. If that has become a
category in psychotherapy, I am happy to say I am not aware of any such thing. Muriel Barberry's Elegance of the Hedgehog (some love this work, others don't) alternates between the first person voice of a concierge-savant and that of a child-savant. I suspect that the "savant thing" puts many readers off. Humility is not a common virtue among writers and it is probably more valued as a result. Writers are cautioned about the use of the first person; it is by far the most intimate voice, but can you, the author, handle it? And can you handle it in a manner that connects with your readers? After one writes something like "Call me Ishmael," how does one sustain the story, the narrative? Notice that there are more first person narratives that are not in the voice of a Captain Ahab or a Sherlock Holmes. Somehow, one suspects that a reader is more likely not to feel connected to a monomaniacal whaler or a highly functioning sociopath of a detective, hence the function of the faithful "side-kick." Speaking of which, the TV series that cast an Asian woman as Doctor Watson has managed to inject a brilliant case of cognitive dissonance--what remains is to see how well the script-writing sustains this.
For a writer, especially one relatively new to the craft, the safest voice and point of view is that of the third person objective. One does not try to get into any of one's characters' heads. One observes and practices the craft of describing/showing as opposed to narrating/ telling. Just the facts ma'am. But.
Fiction should engage the reader just a little (or a lot) more. Hence, the POV often employed is the third person limited, which means the reader is allowed into the head of one character, usually the main character or the side-kick. That person is allowed to conduct "internal dialogue." Some style sheets have evolved to codify this by requiring italics without quotation marks. This gets us into some advanced areas that I would just as soon avoid for now. One can only read so many "how to" books on the art of writing.
Further, what happens when there are many characters and one does not wish to have the main character in every scene. Is the third person limited supple enough to to slip into the mind of the main character for the scene in one chapter and into that of another character in a different chapter? This is where writing dissolves into empiricism--what works? A writer should listen to reviewers. They are not all right nor always right; but they provide feedback to a writer as echo location functions for a bat.
December 10, 2015
The Diplomat
What follows is an extract from The Ninja and the Diplomat, volume 2 in The Chinese Spymaster series. Some time ago, I published an extract that presented some inner monologue for the Ninja. This extract features the Diplomat; inner monologue is represented by passages in italics. But these are not the thoughts of the Diplomat. Instead, I have tried to present the thoughts of his students. How does one know what a group of people are thinking? Well, one hopes for some artistic license.
Former Minister Yu began the class. It was a course studying theories of the ideal state or society. This in itself made the students uncomfortable. No one wished to say that whatever state China was currently in was not ideal as any such discussion implied. Yet Yu blithely continued to describe the syllabus that in the forthcoming weeks would take them through discussion of theorists like Hobbes, Locke and Rousseau, before turning to Marx, Lenin and Mao Zedong. He had chosen, however, to begin with Confucianism, a departure from orthodoxy that would have had the Red Guards screaming obscenities in a different era; it still seemed so old-fashioned. Worse, the assignment for the day had been the Dao De Jing, surely a book of riddles. If the students at the “other school,” the China Executive Leadership Academy of Pudong in Shanghai, found out, they would surely laugh. Actually, there were five schools in all dedicated to the further training of middle and high ranking officials, but as commonly happens, rivalry was strongest between number one and number two.“Who will begin our discussion? Does anyone have a comment on the reading assigned for today?” asked Yu. This was another disconcerting aspect of the course, the professor always asks for opinions and comments. Doesn’t he know we are Chinese? Who among us makes comments? Nonetheless, a brave soul ventured,“I have heard that this classic proposes a way of life and thought that is obsolete. They say no person or state could live in such isolation as is recommended.”“Very good. I myself thought that. Does everyone agree?”
The students murmured restively, realizing that the professor had set a trap for them. They could not agree because he would then criticize them for not thinking for themselves. But what should they say if they disagreed? This man is devious, everyone in the class agreed. Some rumors said that he was a princeling and had been a rising star in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. If so, what was he doing here? Could it be possible that this school meant something in their party career.“Weren’t the followers of the Dao often hermits who retired from towns and cities to work on wonder-making powers, including the drug to give man immortality?” persisted the lone voice. Everyone else was sure he was a marked man, his name remembered. But what if he should be earmarked for special promotion?Another voice was raised. “I have been told that the Monkey King was such a Daoist, perhaps even an Immortal himself.” The students laughed with relief, as many of them had heard similar stories from doddering old men and women, their grandparents or family friends of that generation. Some of the stories, it had to be admitted, had reappeared in many computer games. Yu remarked seriously, as if scolding the students for levity, “The Monkey King is a character from old literature. He did not seek a better state or society. He sought to gain more powers himself, and in the end, it was proved to him and his readers, that the Buddha’s power was stronger than any he exhibited. But I want to draw your attention to a passage that you might remember reading in preparation for today:Though the next state can be seen And its barking and cock crows heard, The people of one state will age and dieWithout having to deal with the other.“In what way, if any, can this be interpreted as a statement about a social or political ideal?” asked Yu.“I don’t have an answer but a question,” remarked a third student. “I don’t understand the verses just before these that you quoted. They suggest this society or state abstains from goods or weapons that it actually has. Is that because these material things were unnecessary or because they were not good enough?”“Indeed, a thoughtful observation,” replied Yu. “Perhaps those verses about not using weapons, chariots or ships that they have are not unrelated to the notion of the ideal society or state.”No, we will not say anything. The professor has the answer in his mind already. If we say anything, it might be right but most likely would be wrong. It is best to say nothing and do what we do best: We look inscrutable.“Well, let me suggest a possibility to you. You tell me if you agree or not, and try to base your arguments on the text we have read,” Yu announced. “Let us say, the ideal state or society is one in which the inhabitants are not concerned with wealth or power. They remain poor or appear so to the states around them so no one from these other states wishes to conquer or even visit them.“On the other hand, they are so well-governed, a fact that is not visible from outside the state, no one inside the state or society wishes to leave. Is that an ideal state?”“Who would want to live in a poor state?”“Who could govern the state so well that no one would want to leave?”“You need power to govern well, and if you have power, why wouldn’t you use it to enrich yourself?”
Yu interjected an occasional question or remark that served only to keep the discussion rolling along. He grinned and waved at his visitors who prepared to leave.
Former Minister Yu began the class. It was a course studying theories of the ideal state or society. This in itself made the students uncomfortable. No one wished to say that whatever state China was currently in was not ideal as any such discussion implied. Yet Yu blithely continued to describe the syllabus that in the forthcoming weeks would take them through discussion of theorists like Hobbes, Locke and Rousseau, before turning to Marx, Lenin and Mao Zedong. He had chosen, however, to begin with Confucianism, a departure from orthodoxy that would have had the Red Guards screaming obscenities in a different era; it still seemed so old-fashioned. Worse, the assignment for the day had been the Dao De Jing, surely a book of riddles. If the students at the “other school,” the China Executive Leadership Academy of Pudong in Shanghai, found out, they would surely laugh. Actually, there were five schools in all dedicated to the further training of middle and high ranking officials, but as commonly happens, rivalry was strongest between number one and number two.“Who will begin our discussion? Does anyone have a comment on the reading assigned for today?” asked Yu. This was another disconcerting aspect of the course, the professor always asks for opinions and comments. Doesn’t he know we are Chinese? Who among us makes comments? Nonetheless, a brave soul ventured,“I have heard that this classic proposes a way of life and thought that is obsolete. They say no person or state could live in such isolation as is recommended.”“Very good. I myself thought that. Does everyone agree?”
The students murmured restively, realizing that the professor had set a trap for them. They could not agree because he would then criticize them for not thinking for themselves. But what should they say if they disagreed? This man is devious, everyone in the class agreed. Some rumors said that he was a princeling and had been a rising star in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. If so, what was he doing here? Could it be possible that this school meant something in their party career.“Weren’t the followers of the Dao often hermits who retired from towns and cities to work on wonder-making powers, including the drug to give man immortality?” persisted the lone voice. Everyone else was sure he was a marked man, his name remembered. But what if he should be earmarked for special promotion?Another voice was raised. “I have been told that the Monkey King was such a Daoist, perhaps even an Immortal himself.” The students laughed with relief, as many of them had heard similar stories from doddering old men and women, their grandparents or family friends of that generation. Some of the stories, it had to be admitted, had reappeared in many computer games. Yu remarked seriously, as if scolding the students for levity, “The Monkey King is a character from old literature. He did not seek a better state or society. He sought to gain more powers himself, and in the end, it was proved to him and his readers, that the Buddha’s power was stronger than any he exhibited. But I want to draw your attention to a passage that you might remember reading in preparation for today:Though the next state can be seen And its barking and cock crows heard, The people of one state will age and dieWithout having to deal with the other.“In what way, if any, can this be interpreted as a statement about a social or political ideal?” asked Yu.“I don’t have an answer but a question,” remarked a third student. “I don’t understand the verses just before these that you quoted. They suggest this society or state abstains from goods or weapons that it actually has. Is that because these material things were unnecessary or because they were not good enough?”“Indeed, a thoughtful observation,” replied Yu. “Perhaps those verses about not using weapons, chariots or ships that they have are not unrelated to the notion of the ideal society or state.”No, we will not say anything. The professor has the answer in his mind already. If we say anything, it might be right but most likely would be wrong. It is best to say nothing and do what we do best: We look inscrutable.“Well, let me suggest a possibility to you. You tell me if you agree or not, and try to base your arguments on the text we have read,” Yu announced. “Let us say, the ideal state or society is one in which the inhabitants are not concerned with wealth or power. They remain poor or appear so to the states around them so no one from these other states wishes to conquer or even visit them.“On the other hand, they are so well-governed, a fact that is not visible from outside the state, no one inside the state or society wishes to leave. Is that an ideal state?”“Who would want to live in a poor state?”“Who could govern the state so well that no one would want to leave?”“You need power to govern well, and if you have power, why wouldn’t you use it to enrich yourself?”Yu interjected an occasional question or remark that served only to keep the discussion rolling along. He grinned and waved at his visitors who prepared to leave.
November 18, 2015
Radiance, a review
Because Louis B. Jones is soon to be the key-note speaker at the first ever Sierra Writers Conference, to be jointly sponsored by Sierra College and Sierra Writers on January 3, 2016, I have discovered what pleasure can come from "slow reads." (Perhaps some day I shall blog on the value of writing that is deemed "fast-paced.")
Radiance (published in 2011) begins disarmingly with a familiar scene. A San Francisco parent (Mark) accompanies a teenager to an (expensive) Fantasy Celebrity Vacation in Los Angeles, enabled by a recent inheritance and prompted by the discovery that his daughter (Lotta) had started shopping among senior high schools in Connecticut. She plots to leave us. But barely has the "Fasten Your Seat-belts" sign been turned off than we find ourselves in deep, heavy territory.
Mortality, late-term abortion, and the quality of life are the weighty considerations homing in like predator drones at the reader almost from the beginning of Radiance. "Death abides always there in constant contact ... in the Periodic Tables of Elements' basic, cool powders and metals and crystals and colorless odors, while the sensation of 'life' is merely the rarest, briefest tingle through all the galaxies' endless tonnage."
The turmoil faced by the parents who eventually decided on the late term abortion is hinted at by the abandonment of her vocation as a corporate lawyer by the perfect wife who then dons the hair-shirt of a middle-aged mom apprenticed as a carpenter, driving herself into exhaustion working with Habitat for Humanity. Atonement by heavy labor without lunch breaks. The sonograms had revealed a "hydro-cephalic condition," the fetus appeared "cretinous-looking." Teenage daughter, whose "ethical equipment was somewhat simplistic," initially declared for termination, asserting a woman's right to choose and the prospect of a short and unhappy life for what would become her brother. Within a month she had changed her mind.
Then she met Brodie.
He was a senior, a "paraplegic boy drummer" at the Fantasy weekend who had learned "to extract his rewards from the world by asserting intellectual dominance." His own condition was a "defect from birth" and "now he's got the grateful-to-be-alive gospel." Teenage daughter reports that he asserts the lost life would have been "the same as ours in terms of absolute value." Father dreads the inevitable conversation, the impending battle "with those innocent certainties."
Somewhere between the Hollywood sign (Los Angeles continued to look, to this northern Californian, "like local news crime scene footage") and the Santa Monica Police Precinct (it has wheel-chair access), and while enduring in the holding cell "the 120-volt clang of its inner electromagnets" and the old metal bars "painted the old Wrigley's Doublemint green," Mark concludes, "the truth is, a physicist and a lawyer are worth more than a paralyzed, retarded, blind baby. [Otherwise] the evening sound of dishes is as great as the Milky Way or the sensation of cotton fabric is as profound as the Seven Wonders of the World."
Brodie persists in asking "What is everything made of these days, ... below atoms and quarks and super strings?" Mark wonders whether "it would be odd if inquiring into his ideas as a physicist should seem more insolent than kissing his daughter." But he affirms that "two plus two would eternally equal four ... even in the emptiness before the beginning of time.... The principle alone furnished the radiance to have made matter originally bead up out of nothing."
Radiance (published in 2011) begins disarmingly with a familiar scene. A San Francisco parent (Mark) accompanies a teenager to an (expensive) Fantasy Celebrity Vacation in Los Angeles, enabled by a recent inheritance and prompted by the discovery that his daughter (Lotta) had started shopping among senior high schools in Connecticut. She plots to leave us. But barely has the "Fasten Your Seat-belts" sign been turned off than we find ourselves in deep, heavy territory. Mortality, late-term abortion, and the quality of life are the weighty considerations homing in like predator drones at the reader almost from the beginning of Radiance. "Death abides always there in constant contact ... in the Periodic Tables of Elements' basic, cool powders and metals and crystals and colorless odors, while the sensation of 'life' is merely the rarest, briefest tingle through all the galaxies' endless tonnage."
The turmoil faced by the parents who eventually decided on the late term abortion is hinted at by the abandonment of her vocation as a corporate lawyer by the perfect wife who then dons the hair-shirt of a middle-aged mom apprenticed as a carpenter, driving herself into exhaustion working with Habitat for Humanity. Atonement by heavy labor without lunch breaks. The sonograms had revealed a "hydro-cephalic condition," the fetus appeared "cretinous-looking." Teenage daughter, whose "ethical equipment was somewhat simplistic," initially declared for termination, asserting a woman's right to choose and the prospect of a short and unhappy life for what would become her brother. Within a month she had changed her mind.
Then she met Brodie.
He was a senior, a "paraplegic boy drummer" at the Fantasy weekend who had learned "to extract his rewards from the world by asserting intellectual dominance." His own condition was a "defect from birth" and "now he's got the grateful-to-be-alive gospel." Teenage daughter reports that he asserts the lost life would have been "the same as ours in terms of absolute value." Father dreads the inevitable conversation, the impending battle "with those innocent certainties."
Somewhere between the Hollywood sign (Los Angeles continued to look, to this northern Californian, "like local news crime scene footage") and the Santa Monica Police Precinct (it has wheel-chair access), and while enduring in the holding cell "the 120-volt clang of its inner electromagnets" and the old metal bars "painted the old Wrigley's Doublemint green," Mark concludes, "the truth is, a physicist and a lawyer are worth more than a paralyzed, retarded, blind baby. [Otherwise] the evening sound of dishes is as great as the Milky Way or the sensation of cotton fabric is as profound as the Seven Wonders of the World."
Brodie persists in asking "What is everything made of these days, ... below atoms and quarks and super strings?" Mark wonders whether "it would be odd if inquiring into his ideas as a physicist should seem more insolent than kissing his daughter." But he affirms that "two plus two would eternally equal four ... even in the emptiness before the beginning of time.... The principle alone furnished the radiance to have made matter originally bead up out of nothing."
November 11, 2015
Awesome Indies Approved
The email said:
You may now tell your readers that your book is ‘Awesome Indies Approved’ or ‘has been awarded a place on the Awesome Indies list of quality independent fiction.’
Not only that, it came with a badge of some sort, several in fact. A couple I could put on the cover of my book (The Chinese Spymaster) and one I could use on this blog/website. I have not figured out how one adds to one's cover and in any case am loath to tamper with the pixels; whatever they are, the word evokes pixies and I don't feel inclined to mess with them.
Asking around about all this, I was pulled up short by the challenge - "have you noticed any increase in your sales?" That I suppose is the point of the exercise, at least to this one of my fellow authors. But I rather like the idea that at this stage of my life, in its Third Act, I might actually get something like a gold star. That now seems so long ago and far away.
So here it is. From Awesome Indies.
You may now tell your readers that your book is ‘Awesome Indies Approved’ or ‘has been awarded a place on the Awesome Indies list of quality independent fiction.’
Not only that, it came with a badge of some sort, several in fact. A couple I could put on the cover of my book (The Chinese Spymaster) and one I could use on this blog/website. I have not figured out how one adds to one's cover and in any case am loath to tamper with the pixels; whatever they are, the word evokes pixies and I don't feel inclined to mess with them.
Asking around about all this, I was pulled up short by the challenge - "have you noticed any increase in your sales?" That I suppose is the point of the exercise, at least to this one of my fellow authors. But I rather like the idea that at this stage of my life, in its Third Act, I might actually get something like a gold star. That now seems so long ago and far away.
So here it is. From Awesome Indies.
