Yukio Mishima

The discussion we had in class today about Yukio Mishima sounded extremely familiar to me, but I couldn't quite figure out why. Then it occurred to me that one of my brilliant friends actually wrote a blog post about Mishima.

For a little background information, my friend Caroline is an Art major at the University of Maine, and decided to create a blog chronicling her journey of reading a book from every Library of Congress subsection. (When I found out she was composing this blog, I accused her of having too much free time on her hands, then silently scorned myself for not reaching my full English major potential and thinking this up myself). In any case, her first book choice was From Africa to Zen: An Invitation to World Philosophy, and her subsequent blog post was taken from the chapter of the book on Japan, detailing none other than the story of Mishima.

Rereading the post now, I distinctly remember having to look up the definition of seppuku, then reeling in horror. But I think Caroline does a great job of interpreting the story and analyzing the aesthetics of death (as the blog is so aptly titled). I also cannot get over the coincidence of this topic coming up in two completely separate circumstances. Total mind blow.

Here's the link to the post: http://nowoverdue.wordpress.com/2010/12/12/aesthetic-death/

And if you are interested, I highly encourage you to read a few of her other posts on the blog, there is some pretty fascinating material.

Weights and Levers

While reading The School of Night, I also was struck by the amount of scientific and theoretical material that was presented. I did my best to try and follow some of these concepts, but mostly ended up getting lost in that never-ending stream of links that makes Wikipedia so enchanting. One thing I did find was Nicholas Hilliard's portrait miniature of Henry Percy, 9th Earl of Northumberland, which Turner describes in the context of the theme of levers and weights, wherein a great weight on one side can be sustained by a featherweight on the other.

It is difficult to see, but written under the feather is the motto 'tanti' meaning "so much" and "so little", according to Turner.

 This seemingly obscure reference is elucidated a few paragraphs down from the description, where the actual principle of the lever, "whereby a lesser weight balances a greater across a fulcrum by means of a proportionate difference in the length of the beam ends, can be extended and abstracted in a very suggestive way". This abstraction is...well I might as well just copy the rest of the paragraph instead of butchering the explanation:

"In theory, for instance, an infinite weight could be properly balanced by an infinitesimal one if the scales are properly biassed: the world against a feather. The weightless thoughts of man can effectively control the massive universe itself, if correct principles of rational transformation–proper levers, pulleys, lenses, clocks, quadrants–can be found. The microcosm can not only reflect, but control, the macrocosm."(Turner)

I found this paragraph particularly important because it finally leads into the concept behind the mnemonic technology that can allow man's memory to encompass the entire universe. Is The School of Night is asserting that man can rule the universe with his thoughts?  If you think not, perhaps consider this idea:

"if we can inhabit that nothingness, colonize it with plantations, so to speak, we shall gain magical control over the world. Even the difference between man and God becomes trivial if the lever which weighs them is properly adjusted"(Turner)

These guys mean business.

Let the transformation begin

What do I know about Shakespeare? My initial inclination towards that question is to list all of the works I’ve read, plays I’ve seen, rumors I’ve heard, and movies I’ve watched with spin off plots. And I guess it really couldn’t hurt to share that.

As an ambitious fourth grader, I decided to do a book report on Romeo and Juliet. Of course I didn’t actually know anything about Shakespeare, and simply chose the play because I liked the picture on the book cover. After attempting to read the first page I was horrified, and the only reason I finished it was because my dad selflessly took it upon himself to read it with me (at a painstakingly slow pace) and relay Shakespearian language to the best of his ability. I don’t remember how the book report turned out, but I’m sure it was awesome.

Shortly after, I too played the part of Hermia in the 6^th grade class’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. At that point I still knew nothing about Shakespeare, except that he could accommodate fairies and donkeys and lovers in the same plot. Unfortunately this was overshadowed by my 12-year-old vanity at how cool I looked dressed up in a toga.

 To delve into more significant experiences, I’ve been an avid attendant of the Idaho Shakespeare Festival’s productions, seeing everything from Taming of the Shrew to creative compilations of his complete works. I’ve also encountered his plays and poetry in several other literature classes, but feel as though I’ve merely glimpsed at the genius and history and irony that is this man’s work.

Of course, aside from delineating what I ‘know’ about Shakespeare, I’ve had enough Sexson lectures to understand that I am probably much more familiar with Shakespeare than I realize, and that the sphere of Shakespeare exists to far greater depths than I am able to imagine at this stage.  So with that I guess I’ll just say that I’m hooked! That glorifying yet burdensome feeling of knowing everything that you get from the conclusion of one of Dr. Sexson’s courses has already dissipated at the onset of another.