Off for a few days

..to Kyoto and then to see a puppet theatre on Saturday. I’ve changed the comments thingy so if you commented before it shouldn’t need to go through moderation. Sara, I’m looking forward to reading your post on TSH! Will it be a thorough defense of the she-wolf Clarissa?

Donna Tartt’s The Secret History (in response to Sara Sizzle)

I’ve read this book twice now, and although the second time around the writing seemed flawed, the themes of the book only become more interesting with time.

How can I describe it? At once a thriller/ unconventionally structured murder mystery, it attempts to incorporate some of the themes of a greek tragedy – but it is also shot through with a sort of overlaid, puritanical morality play sensibility. I’m still not sure whether it just fails to pull off the mesh between the two, or whether the fact of being torn between them is the whole point of the book.

Sara Sizzle is very fond of this book, in fact she chose Camilla as her alternative life over any other in history. I found her answer very interesting, because when I read the book, I remember finding Camilla’s character rather a puzzle. At first, she seemed like one of the weakest and least realised characters in the book. I remember finding Henry far more interesting the first time around (not least because I wondered if his name was a nod to Henry James). Of course, the reader is constrained by the narrator’s interpretation throughout – and Camilla remains enigmatic to Richard, therefore we cannot know her. I felt a bit frustrated with the way Camilla was seen/idealised by Richard. Camilla’s motives remain obscure, even more so than the others (I remember thinking that the way her and Charles were portrayed later in the book as having some echoes of Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, though maybe it was just the alcoholism).

Sara says, about Camilla, “She gave me the sense that she’s quite dangerous. Seductive, manipulative, able to present exactly what each person wanted to see, needed her to be.” This really intrigued me, because it turned my ideas about Camilla on their head. She turns out to be much more interesting than I had suspected. Sara has in fact put her finger on why this is – everybody sees her differently, and we are never given the insight into Camilla’s perspective that we are given (in a very limited way) eventually about her brother. In a book which is so much about the unknown motives, unguessed thoughts, and –yes, secret histories – of others, of course the character who is most enigmatic is probably the key to the whole book.

It’s interesting that Donna Tartt chooses to make that character Camilla, the only woman in a cast of male characters (not counting Judy Poovey here since she’s not a main character but only serves as an outside contrast). Perhaps she had read Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own, in which Woolf analyses the part female characters have traditionally played in the history of English canonical literature, and finds them to be often fulfilling the role of mirrors: “Women have served all these centuries as looking–glasses possessing the magic and delicious power of reflecting the figure of man at twice its natural size.” Because yes, we learn about the others through how they react to Camilla, but she gives nothing away herself. The necessary mystery of a mirror means that a careful reader might find endless intriguing possibilities. “For one often catches a glimpse of them in the lives of the great, whisking away into the back ground, concealing, I sometimes think, a wink, a laugh, perhaps a tear.”

Another reason Sara gives for her fascination with Camilla is her youth and unapologetic selfishness: “She studied under one amazing man who taught her that beauty was free to make all kinds of demands…Camilla saw herself privy to rights not all members of society are. She had the guts to be unapologetic. She was strong too, and distant. Like an ice-maiden.” The portrayal of the characters, as seen by Richard, is something which I do think is pretty well pulled-off by Tartt. We can step outside the framing and see them differently, of course – but his detailed analysis of his own reactions to, and admiration for the others (Camilla in particular) is quite influential, considering that the people he describes are murderers. Not only that, but one can imagine quite how those very same characters might be seen very differently by an outside world quite hostile to their culture and values. In a lot of ways, this does get set up in the book, partly by the structure of the ‘ending’ revealed in the prologue, and partly by Richard’s assessment of the way the characters are divorced from the mainstream of the campus atmosphere.

A major question about the characters is indeed their self-centredness and snobbery. One of the main things I think the book does brilliantly is explain the attractions of snobbery. Snobbery/elitism have a bad name in our culture, and for good reason, but it’s intriguing to note that often, our conception of what snobbery is and why it is bad is inherited from Christian notions of morality (not always, obviously, but it’s a relevant point especially in American culture). “The meek shall inherit the earth” does sit rather uneasily with “beauty is harsh” . Christianity owes a lot to greek culture (platonic idealism springs to mind) but as far as I’m aware this attitude to snobbery is not one of them. In fact, you could argue that the biblical fulminating against wealth and elitism might be in large part an historical reaction against the dominant Greek and Roman cultures of the time of the early Christian faith…

As Sara illustrates, one attraction of the book’s portrayal is in the uncomfortable realisation that although it is easy to condemn the elitism, there is also a sense in which we admire it. It’s not amoral so much as differently moral; the characters themselves identify with the morality of the greco-roman divinities, where morality was pretty much a case of appetite and desire: the greek tragedy aspect of the story plays out this hubristic identification. But I think there is a subtle argument going on with the character of Richard, too: he is identified with the puritanical, affectless upper working/lower middle class America; he denies his modest history and remakes himself as ahistorical in order to avoid appearing poor, with the irony that he appears enigmatic himself to the others. He falls in love, as he says, a little with each of the other characters. But he is in love not so much with they themselves but the worlds they represent: he thinks it is their history he falls in love with, but in fact in forgetting his own past he has not escaped it. It turns out his longing is as much to do with money and priviledge as his ‘secret’ low birth (with all the striving for social advancement it hints at) destined in him. And in this, he is as Roman as they come; surely that’s the irony. Richard despises this in himself: he sees it as mean and petty, but of course, they are all at it, Julian the worst of all.

It’s an interesting moment to consider this attraction, in a character who is elevated (in her own mind, and in Richard’s) above the hoi polloi because of natural beauty or a self-belief– because again, the book makes you see that, and want it, and want to be it. Are people like Camilla and the others really different? Is there such a thing as inherent authority? If not then why can we understand or feel drawn to such characters? There is definitely something disturbing, even proto-fascist, for me in going down that road. It rather reminds me of the questions over the teachings of Leo Strauss and the possible connections to neoconservative politics in the Whitehouse. On the other hand, maybe it doesn’t necessarily conflate to power, but is more about the love of beauty. What do you think?

Questions You Must Answer – Interview Meme

This post is in response to an interview meme at Violet Ink – Aphra kindly decided to pose some questions for me to get me out of a non-blogging rut… if you want to (dare to?) take part, please read the instructions at the bottom of the post!

What was your first queer moment, by which I mean, the moment you first realised something was different?

Oh boy. It took me a long time to realise something was really different, as opposed to suspecting that what I felt was just something people didn’t really talk about. Yes, I confess to a rather arrogant assumption: secretly I suspected that everyone was really bisexual for ages. This crops up in my mind from time to time but I’ve come to understand that it’s not a helpful way to think about it really. I think it’s rude/self-centred of me to even put it like that, now….but it was how I thought about it rather when I was growing up. Having said that there were a few things that happened when I was a kid that gave me a bit of a clue, in retrospect. Like playing kisschase with boys, but also playing ‘truckdriver’ with girls. Or the time my mother came in and discovered my best friend hiding naked underneath the duvet after a game of said ‘truckdriver’ ( I guess I can date to that one the realisation that I was doing something…er, naughty?)

Actually, now I think about it, I kind of realised I was a bit kinky or something before realising I was queer in the sense of relating it to other people. But that’s a different question in my mind – so I don’t have so answer it, phew.

What’s the best thing about living in Japan?

There are lots of good things about living here. I am really enjoying the opportunity to live somewhere completely different to the cities I’ve previously lived in – a small, rural community. It’s a very good chance to practise speaking a new language with the native speakers of that language. Also, for me, it’s been an extremely good experience to distance myself from the culture I grew up in – you know, question a lot of assumptions about the world I didn’t even know I had. One of the most surprising aspects that I hadn’t really considered is the different perspectives I would encounter on global politics…I guess my expectations before coming here were centred around the UK/ Japan but I hadn’t factored in the many other nationalities and interests of people here – other western countries, the US, Canada, NZ as well as Brazil, China, Korea… This is probably more to do with being an expatriate than living in Japan specifically, but it has definitely been a big part of my life here.

What counts as comfort food?

Hmm, I have a terribly indulgent attitude to food. I’m a savoury girl, so no sweet things or cake, but apart from that most food that tastes good and is bad for you. I will say this, b/c I know my friend Knickers will be reading, but I have a terrible weakness for a ham shank. (Yes, Knickers, one of THESE and not the other sort, you filthy minded scoundrel). I also have a tendency to put mayonnaise on everything.

If you could be anywhere right now, where would it be?

I have to say, I’m pretty much happy with where I am right now. Other than here, though, where I’d most like to be is at my friend Sara’s – I want to meet her new daughter!

(And I’m keeping this one from roro) If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

For one so intensely nosy about other peoples’ lives as I, this question is an easy one. It would either be the ability to read minds or invisibility. Since reading minds, I think, would cause a lot of confusion, hubris, even possibly despair, I’m going to have to go with invisibility (that way I could be the fly-on-the-wall in 10 Downing St!). I also have to reluctantly conclude that the ability to Time Travel, IMO possibly the most potent of all superpowers (a la Hiro from Heroes), would not be for me – I don’t trust myself enough not to disrupt the space-time continuum in order to not be late for work.

So if you want to do this meme…

Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me, please.” I will respond by emailing you five questions of my choosing. You must update your blog with the answers to the questions. Whether you like them or not. You have to include this explanation, and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions. So, there you go. Cheers.

I am bisexual for your amusement

Because, after all, that’s what bisexual means – just someone who’ll do anything.

It’s difficult to own to a label sometimes. I’ve been watching Big Brother 8 (UK) clips on Utube, cringing at the obviousness of it all whilst surreptitiously enjoying the permission to be a voyeur to a group of social exhibitionists. (Part of watching BB – and other reality TV shows – is this feeling of superiority. Everyone – the media, the viewers – tends to sneer at BB in Britain. The uglier side of this is sneering at the contestants: the banality and stupidity of their actions and conversations, the banality and stupidity of their identities. It’s rather worrying how easy it is to slip from the first type of sneering to the second. The metaphor of the stocks is hard to avoid.)

One of the most recent housemates is Seany, a man presented to us as so ‘wacky and weird’ that, on hearing his introduction by Davina, I wondered if he was made up. Although he probably isn’t, he has met both Hillary Clinton AND Wolf from Gladiators (not at the same time though, now that WOULD be weird.) Seany’s self-identification, in his VT, is that he has been gay “since last year.” After a day or so in the house, another male contestant was questioning him about whether he was gay or straight.* Seany didn’t answer this clearly enough for another housemate, so he was then asked whether he was bisexual. “I’m just Seany,” said Seany, which as anyfoolkno, is as good a way of ending that conversation as any.

Reader, I groaned. For I recognise the truth AND the inadequacy of that answer. Sometimes I have said it myself. Anyone who has desired more than one gender and been open about it will have experienced the question “WHAT are you?” on a sliding scale which goes from gently curious probing right down to vicious angry demanding.** Yet to answer “I’m just…me” is to avoid answering (and, I think, to imply that one is somehow above sexual identity; are all those gay- and straight-identified people not just ‘themselves’? Can Brian not just be Brian, does he have to be Gay Brian? Pah.)

I understand a little of Seany’s dilemma. He has already answered the question as to his sexual identity. That is, he used to be in heterosexual relationships, and now he is exclusively or mostly in homosexual ones. This is the most factual way to describe it: but just as the housemates’ reactions show, this is not considered an adequate answer. “Yes, but what ARE you?” – Modern western conceptions of sexuality demand that sexuality is an identity, not a behaviour. The identifying noun for Seany’s sexual behaviour is thus either gay (announcing an intention to solely desire men) or bisexual.

So what’s the problem with calling yourself bisexual? If it’s just a description of desires or sexual history….nothing. In fact, if it comes up in conversation, if someone asks, this is the term I use. I don’t want to have a conversation about queer theory and/or the problematically shifting nature of identity demarcation every time, especially if the person asking is just making (polite?) conversation… but I have to admit, I cannot get rid of some sort of shame about using that word. It feels like a defeat, a compromise, something inadequate. I know it doesn’t have to be. In fact, in a strange way, I would LOVE to be able to feel pride. But I can’t…too often I am painfully aware of the negative connotations of bisexuality. Female bisexuality as a spectacle. Male bisexuality as a dirty secret.

Programmes like BB reinscribe this stuff. Anyone remember Adele? She was bisexual, she was a black woman, she was painted in the media as devious, manipulative, questionable. I think this was largely due to the fact that we were all ‘told’ she was bisexual but she herself didn’t announce it, so much, in the house…nobody could ‘trust’ her, she got voted off. In Adele’s edited, public image, part of her “deviousness” was due to her bisexuality, part to her femaleness, part to her blackness (BB, by the way, has always been racist in the sense of the spectacle of the non-white housemates implicitly edited, reported on, talked about in terms of negative racial stereotypes. This has been going on way before the ‘racist row’ over Shilpa Shetty – remember Makosi? Remember Victor?)

Actually, the one to watch may not turn out to be Seany at all, but Gerry – the other male housemate who went in on the same night. A self-identified gay man, Gerry hinted in his intro vid that he fancies ‘a break from men’ whilst he is in the house. He might have just been flirting with the viewer. But it might also be his queer theory game plan! Oh – it’s too much to hope for, probably. But the idea of a camp-acting man like Gerry actually getting down with one of the women in the house – that would confuse the tabloids no end. I can see the headlines now…. “Gerry, what ARE you???” ***

* I’m not saying that only bisexuals get asked this. It’s often an occupational hazard for anyone even suspected of fancying the ‘wrong’ gender.

** This clip is also fascinating for Seany’s discussion of converting to Islam – the awkward tension and fading smiles (see: Chanelle) in response to THAT announcement was priceless.

*** Today’s summary of The Sun reveals a predictable ‘story‘ about Shabnam having “lesbian tendencies! That she isn’t totally honest about! Maybe even to herself!!!” A very odd blend of gay panic and prurient lechery, as usual. Plus, the tack they seem to be taking on Seany and Gerry at the moment is to describe the fact that they are both in the same house, plus platonically sharing a bed (hardly much of a choice BTW since this year, there IS only one single bed) as a “burgeoning romance”. This is actually hilarious.

In the meantime, some puzzling assertions

…were made by some of my students the other day during a lesson. I haven’t really posted that much about my job, since I guess there’s rather a lot of “students say the funniest things!” going around the internets regarding Japanese students: I would love to be able to read Japanese well enough to know if there’s a similar “eigo no sensei say the funniest things!” meme surfacing on the Jpnz student blogs (I suspect so).

Still, I intend to post someday about what I do, which is teach business English to salarymen, and how it is actually a pretty surprising and rewarding job at times. Not least because my students are often times not quite what one might expect from the outside, given the stereotypical view of salarymen working for a traditional large Japanese IT company. Usually, I’m pretty surprised in a positive way by just how motivated they are to learn English, and not just in an economic, business sense either. I’ve also been challenged quite regularly on the way I see things from a western perspective: a discussion with two students on capitalism, trade unions and the Japanese models of business hierarchies (what I would call paternalism) was quite enlightening.

Anyway, despite all this, I’m still confronted sometimes with the surreal cultural gaps between my culture and some of my students’. I recently started teaching an executive class, which basically means that the students in this case are the heads of departments within the company, and as such are a bit older than my other students – from mid-forties up to late fifties. From the first lesson, they seemed a bit more outspoken and relaxed, and as such, the lessons are quite back-and-forth. We were talking about some differences between the UK and Japan, and the diet thing came up. “Japan and the UK are both islands,” said one of my students, “but the Japanese eat way more fish.” He asked me why I thought this was so. I don’t really know the answer, but I suggested it had something to do with various historical and geographical factors – the fact that there are different types of fish in the sea around Japan, the fact that Japan’s landscape terrain includes lots of not-very-hospitable-to-grazing-cattle mountains, and plenty of easy access to sea-fishing, the settling patterns of the population in more coastal regions, the lack of indiginous cattle and so on. At this point I asked the other students what they thought the reasons were.

“Well, it’s a lot more simple than that…” said one guy. “Japanese people have longer intestines. In fact, their intestines are twice as long as the intestines of foreigners.” It appeared this was a bit of a consensus in the class. I told them that I didn’t think that was true. I think the guy who said it was a little surprised that I didn’t believe him. “How do you know this is true?” I asked. “Who says so?” One of the other students was laughing. “Japanese medical knowledge says it is true.” Hmm. Well, we had a brief discussion about this (another student then introduced a theory which was basically, from what I could tell, an evolutionary theory that all people are descended from either “hunting tribes” or “farming tribes” and that ALL Japanese people are descended from “farming tribes”) but it was getting a bit off topic so we continued with the lesson.

I was pretty curious about the origin of this belief in different intestines; I’d heard about it as a rumour, as being something said to foreigners, but never actually had it outlined to me clearly by a Japanese person before. Of course, the questions that always get asked about whether foreigners can use chopsticks or eat raw squid or whatever: well, maybe the motivation behind these questions is a belief that foreigners are innately (physiologically) different or maybe the questions are just about different cultures and expectations. But as to the possibility that genetically, we have different intestines: just, well, hmmm that sounds implausible to me. I mean, is that even possible? That genetics could influence intestinal length to such an extent? Or is this just an example of nihonjinron – which is quite the cultural phenomenon itself? I tried googling about it, but all I got were other westerners as puzzled as I am as to where this belief comes from…