It's been a while since I've posted here, but I have an announcement to make:
This blog is over. Another is on its way.
As someone with a long history of starting blogs, abandoning them, and then starting new ones, and in particular given that I decided with this one not to do that again, I feel like some justification is in order, so here it is:
1. Wordpress. It seems better.
2. The name. "Blue Curious" was always a compromise. I originally wanted "Curious Yellow," the name of a Swedish film and also a crazy virtual-reality drug in the Jeff Noon novel Vurt that was kindly lent to me by Mr. T. D. some years ago. "Curious Blue" is a related film, but that name was taken too, so I settled on "Blue Curious," which has the twin disadvantages of sounding like "bi-curious" and connoting depression. I always imagined that the name "Blue Curious" would evoke confusion and discomfort in people seeing it for the first time, and even if this isn't the case, I'll be happy to be rid of it.
3. Balance. The new blog will keep biographical updates to a minimum. I will endeavor not to post anything unless it is of general interest. In general, posts will discuss academic, political, or technological topics, with observations about Japan and other such things that I deem to be important. There will be a separate section for essay-length works.
Thank you for reading.
To be continued, here.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Culture Lesson
In Japan, it is customary for co-workers to go out drinking together. It's a lot of fun. Here are some phrases used on me, last night, to encourage the drinking of sake:
1. ~8:30 : "You must learn the power of Japanese sake."
2. ~9:00 : "Memories banish!"
3. ~10:00 : "Let's make a legend."
1. ~8:30 : "You must learn the power of Japanese sake."
2. ~9:00 : "Memories banish!"
3. ~10:00 : "Let's make a legend."
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Maybe I'm making this up
But the songs of Belle & Sebastian seem to speak to the concerns of rural Japanese teenagers, as I imagine them.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
4 Things
1. How do I remove the lines around the title of my blog at the top of the page?
2. I have posted a few pictures of Japan on Facebook.
3. I got my first paycheck today. Mostly it will go to food and debt, but as a small indulgence I have bought myself a nice new pair of headphones (they go all the way over my ears) and am listening to the Fleet Foxes Sun Giant EP. I cannot express how nice it is not to have to live off of convenience store food anymore (because they are the only ones who will accept a credit card).
4. A question has been rattling around in my head: for a Japanese person, what are the emotional connotations of American accented Japanese? I think, for most Americans, there are certain associations that the sound of a foreign accent seems to activate -- which of these associations we can reliably ascribe to cultural stereotypes, and which to phonological properties I will not pretend to be able to say -- (though I would bet everything I own that both are important factors, and the chains of causation leading from them to any eventual effect are heavily intertwined -- but this is common sense) -- but, to me at least, English speech with a French or Russian accent conjures up a certain intellectual and emotional response that is difficult to describe (in language) in the same way that flavors and smells are difficult to describe (in language). My hope, however, is that to a Japanese person who (god bless them) suffers the hearing of my mangling their language (that was kind of a Japanese grammar joke, but its doubly sad because: 1. probably no one reading this will get it, and 2. I'm not even sure if I fully understand the grammar about which I am joking) has the same sort of quasi-emotional-intellectual reaction as I do when I hear someone with a Russian accent. Though perhaps the fact that they won a war against Russia, and have been chuffed up about it ever since, means that that's not such a good idea after all.
2. I have posted a few pictures of Japan on Facebook.
3. I got my first paycheck today. Mostly it will go to food and debt, but as a small indulgence I have bought myself a nice new pair of headphones (they go all the way over my ears) and am listening to the Fleet Foxes Sun Giant EP. I cannot express how nice it is not to have to live off of convenience store food anymore (because they are the only ones who will accept a credit card).
4. A question has been rattling around in my head: for a Japanese person, what are the emotional connotations of American accented Japanese? I think, for most Americans, there are certain associations that the sound of a foreign accent seems to activate -- which of these associations we can reliably ascribe to cultural stereotypes, and which to phonological properties I will not pretend to be able to say -- (though I would bet everything I own that both are important factors, and the chains of causation leading from them to any eventual effect are heavily intertwined -- but this is common sense) -- but, to me at least, English speech with a French or Russian accent conjures up a certain intellectual and emotional response that is difficult to describe (in language) in the same way that flavors and smells are difficult to describe (in language). My hope, however, is that to a Japanese person who (god bless them) suffers the hearing of my mangling their language (that was kind of a Japanese grammar joke, but its doubly sad because: 1. probably no one reading this will get it, and 2. I'm not even sure if I fully understand the grammar about which I am joking) has the same sort of quasi-emotional-intellectual reaction as I do when I hear someone with a Russian accent. Though perhaps the fact that they won a war against Russia, and have been chuffed up about it ever since, means that that's not such a good idea after all.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Moving
Hello again. I have been in Japan for about 20 days now, but in the back of my mind it still feels like a long vacation. I can tell that this is the case by performing a kind of thought experiment whenever I go outside. It works as follows: I stop walking and look around. Then I tell myself: "This is your new home now. You'll probably be here for the next couple years at least." Then I think about that statement. As of yet, this has not failed to produce a kind of mental vertigo mingled with disbelief. Moving to another country, however exciting, is a bit like being a plant yanked up by the roots and tossed onto an unfamiliar patch of soil whose texture and chemical composition you are not only not accustomed to, but who's precise location is several degrees of latitude removed from your original location (Gloria, that was for you -- though come to think of it, I really am several degrees of latitude removed).
In any case, I don't think I've passed a single day here without swinging from homesickness to delight/ fascination, or back, at least once. A constant source of pleasure: the architecture and geography of my hometown, Ikeda. I am at the bottom of a valley, steep hills covered in trees rising to the north and south. There are lots of old buildings here, new ones, and structures that look like they belong in a shantytown. Any of these may be covered in vines or have a bouquet of plants spilling out from the front porch. A constant source of displeasure: not being able to read, or understand, most restaurant menus, especially when I'm hungry. Even when the menus are written in katakana (a simple syllabic Japanese script), there's a world of difference between printed and handwritten characters, the latter of which often appear -- and even if one manages to sound out one's best guess, there's no guarantee that you'll be able to divine the English word it stands for, if it does stand for an English word! So far, there's one restaurant in town I feel safe eating at, and this is because all of the menu items are displayed in a case out front, and if I can't pronounce a dish I can always trot the waitress outside and point. It's not the classiest place, but it has served me well so far. Still, I'm on the verge of begging my co-workers to accompany me to some of the town's other places and showing me what's good.
Anyway, the point I wanted to make is that I'm trying to tackle this transition bit by bit. Learn a little more of the language every day, try to see something new in town and, if I'm lucky, introduce myself to a new person. Japanese is a beast of a language to learn, but I feel that if I keep studying, I'll be able to talk like a child in a few months. It's a rough wait, as I feel that if I had one thing going for me back in the States, it was my ability to put a thought into words after some consideration. That makes the prospect of learning Japanese all the more exciting in the long term, and all the more frustrating when progress doesn't occur as quickly as I'd like. I'll try to post notes on my progress, as well as my observations about this strange and humid world, in the coming months.
In any case, I don't think I've passed a single day here without swinging from homesickness to delight/ fascination, or back, at least once. A constant source of pleasure: the architecture and geography of my hometown, Ikeda. I am at the bottom of a valley, steep hills covered in trees rising to the north and south. There are lots of old buildings here, new ones, and structures that look like they belong in a shantytown. Any of these may be covered in vines or have a bouquet of plants spilling out from the front porch. A constant source of displeasure: not being able to read, or understand, most restaurant menus, especially when I'm hungry. Even when the menus are written in katakana (a simple syllabic Japanese script), there's a world of difference between printed and handwritten characters, the latter of which often appear -- and even if one manages to sound out one's best guess, there's no guarantee that you'll be able to divine the English word it stands for, if it does stand for an English word! So far, there's one restaurant in town I feel safe eating at, and this is because all of the menu items are displayed in a case out front, and if I can't pronounce a dish I can always trot the waitress outside and point. It's not the classiest place, but it has served me well so far. Still, I'm on the verge of begging my co-workers to accompany me to some of the town's other places and showing me what's good.
Anyway, the point I wanted to make is that I'm trying to tackle this transition bit by bit. Learn a little more of the language every day, try to see something new in town and, if I'm lucky, introduce myself to a new person. Japanese is a beast of a language to learn, but I feel that if I keep studying, I'll be able to talk like a child in a few months. It's a rough wait, as I feel that if I had one thing going for me back in the States, it was my ability to put a thought into words after some consideration. That makes the prospect of learning Japanese all the more exciting in the long term, and all the more frustrating when progress doesn't occur as quickly as I'd like. I'll try to post notes on my progress, as well as my observations about this strange and humid world, in the coming months.
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