owlectomy | (no subject)

The Gratuitously Depressing Awards.

I can't nominate the entire corpus of Japanese literature, so I'd have to go with Kokoro, by Soseki, and Mori Ogai's "Maihime."

Once upon a time, I was in a modern Japanese literature class (see above--I wouldn't have forced my way through them otherwise). When I took the final exam, one of the questions was, "Answer the question from class." I did not know the question from class. I had been to class, but it's entirely plausible that I didn't recognize the question when it was posed, because, you know, foreign language and all.

The prof went easy on me and said that I would pass the class if I wrote an essay on a Japanese novel.

I was incredibly depressed (I get anxious about my grades), so I went to Kinokuniya, bought the English translation of Norwegian Wood (of which I'd read about 2/3 in Japanese, in high school; I gave up on it because it was depressing. The main character reminded me way too much of life circumstances), raced through the ending, and began one of the worse essays I have ever written.

It started out, "Man, this was a really depressing book," and then segued to "And that is why it is a good book. Life really is this depressing. On the other hand, we don't need to be reminded of it like that!"

Zetsuai/Bronze was also nominated. I haven't seen the anime, but I just found the manga funny. And that reminds me that I have just pulled out of the parental attic a few volumes of Zankokuna Kami Ga Shihai Suru, which certainly qualifies as gratuitously depressing. I can't remember if I ever did finish it...

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Let's have a little history here. Just when did you start learning Japanese? because you seem to have been reading it all your life.

I am about to start Zankoku na, and not looking forward to it. Maybe that's why 12 Kingdoms is taking me so oddly long to get through.

Hmm, well, at 15 I started watching Sailor Moon, and right away I started learning Japanese; it seemed like a good idea at the time, and so I threw myself into it with passionate intensity. That's the only explanation I can come up with for how I was able to start slogging through a novel two years later (beyond that Murakami is quite easy to read).

Zankoku na is compelling in its own way, like a soap opera; I guess that's why I read as much of it as I did. But I got sidetracked by Kaze to Ki no Uta, and put together, that's too much pointless angst to take.