Saturday, February 25, 2012

Death Mask

When Ms. Farago introduced us to RadioLab,  I was quite apprehensive. A long conversation did not appeal to me as much as a video. Of course, after I'd listened to it, I was hooked. Not only are the podcasts enlightening but they are seeded with the speakers' humorous reactions.

One such tale which I listened to on the website was interesting, albeit depressing.

The setting is Paris. A woman, suspected to be suffering from unrequited love, commits suicide by jumping off a bridge into the river Seine. Her body is found but never identified. When it is displayed in a morgue, the director of the establishment finds her face so alluring that he commissions a mask to be made. Listen up HSERT members because this is where it gets interesting. The CPR dummies that we all recognize? Their faces are modelled after this lady, "L'inconnue de la Seine" (The unknown woman of the Seine).

The connection I made with the story is strongly linked with the dominant theme in the book - the glorification of death. Irony serves to present this theme in the story. Firstly, after she died, the death mask became a big hit in Paris. These death masks were bought and revered on the same pedestal as Napolean and other famous historical figures. Ironically however, no one was able to identify her when she died. However after her suicide, fame and wealth became attributed to her. These virtues, representing glory, ultimately became worthless as she could not exploit them.

The commentary by Prajakta, showed as an example in class, immediately jumped to my mind. In the case of the Inconnue, death creates glory in material objects while cruelly distancing the one who deserves it. Contrastingly, Prajakta's take on the glorification of death encompassed the  release of the kittens's soul as an escape - essentially the ultimate reward.

After reading the story, the irony stunned me. A woman who drowned was immortalised in a dummy meant to save lives. She became extremely famous after her death. Even today, we may know all of the things that happened after her death but we know next to nothing about  anything before that. What about her family, her accomplishments or even the most basic form of human identity - her name?

Link: Podcast





Saturday, February 18, 2012

Fathers

We all love our fathers, (that's a generalisation I will bravely make) but for Noboru, they are the worst of mankind. In Sailor, Ryuji assumes the role of Noboru's father. While Ryuji tries to bond with his new step-son, Noboru absolutely hates having to deal with a former sailor, especially now that he (Ryuji) is now a "landlubber".

I admire my father and I don't think that'll change if he changes his job. But for Noboru, I realise it's much, much deeper than that. First of all, his mind is poisoned with the chief's thoughts on abusive fathers, manipulating Noboru's perspective. Disgusting thoughts like "Fathers are the flies of this world...Filthy lecherous flies" (Mishima, 138) turn Noboru's mind against Ryuji. Secondly, his universal order is disrupted (see my first post) and the circular chain is broken, creating a void. If you notice, the Sailor is the only physical, sentient connection Noboru has with the sea. When the link breaks, Noboru takes his frustration out on Ryuji.

However, I don't sympathise with Noboru. Quite the contrary, I think Ryuji deserves sympathy. When Noboru is caught peeping in, Ryuji decides not to beat him but instead come to terms with him. He is actually a kind, understanding character who doesn't sense Noboru's concealed hatred. By connecting Noboru's father to my own, antipathy is "created" in my eyes towards him. Certainly, a malleable, volatile character like Noboru doesn't understand or care for Ryuji's apparent, gratuitous affection. All Ryuji gets in the end is a cup of tea filled with sleeping pills and some twisted boys waiting to dissect him.


Everything goes back the the Sea. =)



Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Irony

In Sailor, irony is very common. The first irony I noticed pertains to the concept of nihilism in the book. Nihilism is synonymus to meaninglessness. Nihilists follow the principles of this paradigm; they essentially don't care about anything. But if Noboru were to call himself a nihilist, the title would not quite fit him as perfectly as he would want. For one, Noboru shows attachment to this world; he idealises Ryuji and proves that the world is not as meaningless as it would be to a nihilist.

Secondly, it's very ironic, in my opinion, that Mishima uses natural imagery to illustrate the sea as a traditional Japanese force. The sea is a part of nature, which is in turn, relates to the admiration which the Japanese exhibit. Patterned kimonos, miniature gardens and cherry blossom festivals stand as a testament to this. However, the ironic twist is that the sea is used as a vehicle to get to the West. While supporting Eastern values, the sea allows infiltraton by the West (Fusako's international trade shop) to contaminate Eastern values.

Although Sailor is filled with ironies and may make it an unreliable piece for some, it actually makes the book more fun to research, in my totally nerdy opinion. =D

Oh and here's a cool thing I found:
Traditional Japanese portrayal of the sea (visual art-wise)

The boat looks quite insignificant as compared to the sea, eh? Even the sun looks tiny!

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Circle of Life

Noboru's attachment to the circle of life is clear when he peeks in on Ryuji and Fusako. The line, "Noboru and mother- mother and man - man and sea - sea and Noboru." (Mishima, 13) demonstrates how Noboru connects all of the important roles in his life into a circle of protection. The circle protects Noboru from insecurity in that without it, "it'll mean the end of the world" (13). Another interpretation I made was that Noboru had an innate need to bring order to his surroundings (Noboru, mother and sea). When the sailor disrupts this order, Noboru uses the circle to merge him into his personal reality and retain his world.

Looking back at my life, I can see why Noboru has this personality trait. As a child, weak and defenseless against the real world, he turns to creating order around himself as a shelter from his supposedly corrupt environment. I feel the same, albeit not in such an extreme manner. When there is chaos, insecure feelings run rampant. With order, however, there becomes a secure, safe environment; a world which appeals to Noboru and I.