Trivia Quiz for “I Am a Cat” by Sōseki Natsume (1906)

For West Seattle “Classic Novels (and Movies)” book club, 8/28/22, with answers below

A. Connections to European Literature

1. On Names. Like many English novelists, Sōseki Natsume chose funny and sometimes allegorical names for his fiction. Which one of the following is not a character in I Am a Cat?

a. Mr. Sneaze             

b. Baby-dear              

c. Daft Bamboo         

d. Utter Aimlessness

e. Opula Goldfield                 

f. Lancelot Yore

2. Social Commentary. Similar to Jonathan Swift and other satirists, Sōseki’s feline narrator casts a sardonic eye on his world. Which one of the following is not a target?

a. poets           

b. businessmen          

c. women       

d. academics (grad students and professors)

e. the queen                            

f. Zen Buddhists                    

g. baseball players

3. Genre and structure. Sōseki’s knowledge of the early English novel allowed him a wealth of options for form, even if his work does not correspond to what is now the dominant paradigm (i.e. nineteenth-century works by Dickens, Tolstoy or Balzac). Which one of the following literary devices is not adopted in I Am a Cat?

a. a tight, chronological sequence of events from birth to adulthood

b. a loose, meandering sequence of observations on topical issues

c. an ironic first-person narrator who recounts dialogues overheard, apparently verbatim

d. a voyeuristic narrator who sees (and tells) things that others overlook or ignore

e. All of the above are used in I Am a Cat.

4. Maxims. As in many other works we’ve read, I Am a Cat is peppered with pithy quotes on life. Which one of the following is not from Sōseki’s novel?

a. “By the infinite flexibility of interpretation one can get away with anything.”

b. “The sad fact is that long-continued, pleasant normality becomes a bore.”

c. “A child needs an English nurse more than a mother.”

d. “One tends only to discover at the very last moment hidden defects in unexpected places.”

B. Japanese Particulars in I Am a Cat

5. Architecture and space. One of the most interesting insights for Western readers is how the traditional Japanese home would have been like to live in. Which one of the following does not characterize the master’s home in I Am a Cat?

a. thin, even translucent rice-paper walls                  

b. close proximity to neighboring homes

c. elaborate carving in the stone masonry     

d. sliding doors          

e. includes a little garden

6. Lost in Translation? Some of the humor of I Am a Cat is due to the feline narrator’s mastery of language, but some bits may strike us as odd! Which one of the following is not in I Am a Cat?

a. hecklers insult a person by calling him a “terra cotta badger”

b. a teacher is ridiculed for calling a beverage “Savage Tea”

c. a man is criticized for being “as light and flossy as goldfish food floating around on a pond”

d. an author is praised because he “also wrote importantly upon the seasoning of turnips”

e. All of the above are in I Am a Cat.

7. Food. Which one of the following products or dishes is not mentioned as a delicious treat?

a. snake rice               

b. dried bonito                       

c. goulash                   

d. vermicelli noodles

C. The Feline Perspective

8. What does purring really mean, according to I Am a Cat?

a. the cat is laughing              

b. the cat is anxious               

c. the cat is seeking warmth

9. Wisdom to ponder. That cat espouses a Zen attitude which feels refreshing, all the while dishing out acerbic criticisms of men. Which one of these two quotes is spoken by the cat?

a. “Just as cowards grow aggressive under the spur of grog, so may students emboldened by mere numbers into stirring up a riot be regarded as having lost their senses by becoming intoxicated with people.”

b. “Nobody knows how many rebellions besides political rebellions ferment in the masses of life which people earth. Women are supposed to be very calm generally, but women feel just as men feel.”

10. What is the cat’s name?

a. Fluffy                     

b. Fishy                      

c. Freddy                    

d. He has no name.

ANSWERS

1. d. (In the Buddhist tale of the big stone Jizō, pp. 505—510 in the Tuttle edition, the fool named Daft Bamboo walks with “utter aimlessness”—a manner, not a person!)

2. e.

3. a. or e.

4. c.  (That quote is from Karolina Pavlova, A Double Life.)

5. c.

6. e.

7. c. (Goulash is described as a culinary favorite in Bram Stoker’s Dracula.)

8. a. When he’s purring, the cat is laughing (possibly at us).

9. a. (That quote, dear reader, is from Jane Eyre.)

10. d.

Come back next month for our quiz on The Remains of the Day, by Kazuo Ishiguro (1989).

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day 80, just help

June 5 page from Shi Wuling, Path to Peace

fyi, the Honey Girl quilt offer expires today! see details on day 73.

day 73: dear country, let me help

Today dawns on a weary, frightened populace as we look around at a nation torn apart by so many calamities. It is overwhelming. I seek to respond but don’t know how, apart from shedding some tears for the civil rights movement we felt was so wonderful while I was growing up, and all the hopes now dashed again, proven wrong yet again. I’m especially worried for my black women friends who are raising sons in this toxic environment. But I am really sorry for all of us, because today you and I are suffering.  Even if we think we’re exempt / immune /numb and incapable of taking in any more horrors, we are suffering. I turn to the Buddhist writings of Thich Nhat Hanh for guidance. I’ve been thinking and singing in my head the Billy Swan song, “I Can Help,” for hours.  Clearly, it would do me good to do you good. But how?

Here is what I learned from the Buddhist:

“When we are suffering, we have a strong need for the presence of the person we love. If we are suffering and the man or woman we love ignores us, then we suffer more. So what we can do—and right away—is to manifest our true presence to the beloved person and say the mantra with force: ‘Dear one, I know that you are suffering; that is why I am here for you.’”*

Today, we need love all around. Maybe you’re missing THE person you love. OK, can’t help with that. But I can be one person speaking up to you today with a friendly gesture that is real.

Dear reader,

I know that you are suffering. That is why I’m writing. I want to remind you that your life matters, your mind matters, your potential matters. Your words and actions matter. All the people who have died matter, and we will remember them, and keep demanding an end to the violence. And if you would like a face mask to wear during this ongoing COVID-19 crisis, or quilt to celebrate life, let me know. I can help with that. (Quilts $100 today only; lead time 3-6 months.)

Thank you.

With hope and solidarity,

Julia   (use the Contact form to communicate requests for masks or quilt information, or just to chat. I’ll check in frequently.)

p.s. sorry for such a minute response to what is really a shattering moment in American history, but apart from nothing—symbolic silence—I could not think of anything worth writing. It’s all out there in the news, I can only offer face masks or quilts, and a few words of comfort.  But remembering Billy Swan, I just had to say, “let me help”.

***

Here are a few examples of memory quilts from the past, fyi

and fyi, Yesterday’s face mask production

*Thich Nhat Hanh, “Love is Being Present,” Right Here with You: Bringing Mindful Awareness into Our Relationships, ed. Andrea Miller and the editors of the Shambhala Sun (Boston, Shambhala, 2011), 7.

day 66: “Undone” and “Devs”: love the way they stay in the mind

Two good things to note about this spring: we’ve watched some series that generated really interesting conversations about existence and its possibilities. Last night we watched the finale of Devs (spoiler alert: it’s actually DEUS), and we’re still wondering what exactly it meant. Does the kinda creepy tech wizard messiah dude (played by Nick Offerman) get to live forever, as long as his blank-faced automaton girlfriend (Alison Pill) keeps the switch turned on? But what about the gamine, feisty, super-smart heroine Lily (played to perfection by Sonoya Mizuno)? Is she doomed to live in the messiah dude’s version of paradise? That could be nice, as is suggested by the sweet embrace with her hunky boyfriend (Jin Ha) at the end. But what if somebody turns off the switch?!!!!!

Undone, which we saw earlier this spring, was/is even better. In Undone, the heroine Alma (Rosa Salazar) struggles with “mental health” in ways that put a bite into the words–what’s so healthy about reality as we know it? (It is worth noting that her very name is inspiring: “Alma” has several meanings in a variety of languages but the gist is this child “feeds one’s soul” or “lifts the spirit”.) Even though the images are animated, Alma feels very real; her presence is what the French call tonique.

Alma’s situation is so interesting that I can’t wait to see Season 2 of Undone. I guess it’s what we all wish we could do. Sort of. Sometimes… She is able to see and talk to her dead dad. She sees him pretty regularly although with startling irregularity to her: he comes and goes at whim, played with spot-on timing by Bob Odenkirk, who has the most familiar voice from all those seasons of Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul, that you totally believe he’s the dad, or an uncle, or somebody you know.

The comedy/tension of Undone comes from watching this dazzling Latina heroine toggle between the two worlds: on the one hand, there are the moments of Zen awareness brought on by her dad and his teachings, but they are marred by the anxiety of wondering if he is messing with her for his own designs. On the other hand, there is Alma’s sweet (maybe too sweet?) boyfriend, played adorably by Siddharth Dhananjay. But wait a minute: what’s with his not telling her about their break-up before her near-death experience, amnesia and unwitting reconciliation? Is he intolerably weak, to be dropped immediately, or heart-breakingly lovable and to be married at all costs? Is she really going insane (again)? The possibility of wisdom hovers on the horizon, now and then you hear words you wish you could write down when the dad is talking or they’re walking in outerspace… But Alma’s sharp tongue keeps you on edge; she’s just irrational enough to make you wonder about her.  (Or identify with her!)

In short, it’s a slice of Zen 101 alongside funny scenes from a super-smart girl’s life, coping with the messy real-time stuff we call today. It is complicated, surprising, and philosophically complex.

Both Devs and Undone pounce on the power of humans to persuade each other of stuff, as does Sneaky Pete, another good series we watched recently.  (Hmmm… seems like the zeitgeist is on to something) All these shows stay with you long after the lights are out and bring on lively conversation—c’est un tonique!

 

Time to walk, now, and another day of sewing!

 

And yesterday’s face mask production, fyi

 

Undone image By Source, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=61764886

day 59: a good kind of weird: Fu shên (depicting soul)

A chance note in a newspaper article about ghosts in people’s houses led me back to Mai-Mai Sze’s book, The Tao of Painting, this morning, in search of insight about the art of capturing specters and ghosts. In early Chinese painting, Mai-Mai Sze explains, the literal aim was to represent the spirit of beings—deceased ancestors and figures of history, religion, and legend—who could influence and aid the living. The word for portraiture, fu shên, means to depict a soul.*

Today’s newspaper continues that tradition, in a way. The author, Molly Fitzpatrick, passes along portraits of nameless dead folks, and explains how they are making contact with the living. At its best, the article depicts their souls. Note the history of the young couple in Queens: the 31-year-old man shares the small space with his 27-year-old girlfriend (fwiw: both have professions that imply education; these are not typical “nut cases”). One night, he saw a small, older Asian woman in green scrubs standing at arm’s length from him in the bathroom. She appeared to be glowing, he said. On another occasion he awoke at night with the feeling that someone was tucking in his feet. He assumed it was his girlfriend, as they often tug the comforter back and forth, but it wasn’t. He explains, “It was so weird, dude. It was so weird.” But it is a good kind of weird!  As the reporter concludes: “But the incident left […] a lingering positive impression, as if whoever—or whatever—it was had been trying to make the couple feel more comfortable, or to mediate a potential conflict between them before it happened.”**

I would love to come back and haunt the living after I die too… with good karma, love and fellow-feeling. Laugh if you want, laugh if you can, but why not invest magical meaning into our daily lives? Who else will do it for us?!

😊

Peace to you, in the pandemic.

Yesterday’s face mask production (and some cheerful driftwood art).

 

* Mai-Mai Sze, The Tao of Painting, p. 42-43

**Molly Fitzpatrick, “Violating Spectral Distancing Rules” New York Times (May 17, 2020): ST 7.

day 53: “Long in dream, a butterfly comes” (thanks to Bada Shanren)

Since nothing killed my spirit in the news today (or perhaps I’ve just become inured to the awfulness), my mind floated along peacefully during the short, sunny, steep walk and back up to our perch on the mountaintop. I felt like the luckiest person in the world!  My  gaze turned to another favorite book of Asian art, a book dedicated to Bada Shanren, to capture the peaceful thoughtfulness.

Chinese painter Bada Shanren (1626-1705) is the artist; born into the Ming imperial family, he fled and became a Buddhist monk before re-emerging into public life later, after 30 years. During the period when he created Lotus and Ducks, he was already a worldly man in his 70s.

Lotus and Ducks (pictured) is a hanging scroll of ink on paper, ca. 1696. It is absolutely hypnotic once you start gazing at it. “Yes, awfulness exists,” the ducks darkly gaze. But a quiet feeling of Zen awareness is also here for the taking–it flows through the lotus waving gently in the breeze (or is it rippling water?).

The last lines of the inscription capture the feelings perfectly, in their vague and hazy way of conjuring an image of natural beauty and hope amidst the wreckage caused by humans.

“Today we heave a sigh:

Wolves are besting tigers, bear gives birth to fox,

Long in dream, a butterfly comes fluttering along.” *

—–

* Bada Shanren, trans. Stephen D. Allee, Lotus and Ducks, ca. 1696, in catalogue of In Pursuit of Heavenly Harmony: Paintings and Calligraphy by Bada Shanren from the Estate of Wang Fangyu and Sum Wai, ed. Joseph Chang and Qianshen Bai, Catalogue by Stephen D. Allee (Washington, DC: Freer Gallery of Art and Weatherhill, Inc., 2003), p. 66.

 

Thanks for giving us this beautiful book when it first came out, Steve! I’m so glad to have the opportunity to read it peacefully and enjoy discovering Bada Shanren in this quiet time (of quarantine).

 

Fyi: yesterday’s face mask production:

 

day 50, the good side of emptiness

In times of stress, I like to pull out a huge volume of art, Mai-Mai Sze’s classic The Tao of Painting, and dip into its Zen wisdom and gorgeous plates of ancient Chinese art. By chance, I fell upon p. 96 this morning. That inspired the following thought pattern on emptiness:

Gloomy photos of empty streets have become an emblem of this era, when fears of contagion have driven everyone indoors. Emptiness incites melancholy because of what is not there; what can never happen again, the dead. Yet its etymology stems from æmta, an Old English word meaning “leisure”, and the word used to mean “at leisure, unoccupied, also unmarried.” It is only more recently that empty took on the connotation of “lacking, devoid of (specified contents or a specified quality).”*

Reading page 96 of Mai-Mai Sze’s wonderful book, I was reminded why I love her writing–the crisp, economical explanations of difficult concepts–and how empty space may also be a balm to the spirit. As Chinese writers in the Zen tradition have told us, “the spirit is an emptiness ready to receive all things. By stilling the heart, that is, shedding the thoughts and emotions of personal life, an individual can ‘reflect in his heart-mind (hsin) as in a pool or a mirror.’” There is even a word for it in Zen Buddhism, k’ai wu (open-awareness), which means apprehending in the deepest and widest sense. You can see the Chinese appreciation for this way of seeing in paintings like the close-up of a misty sky, shown here.

–from a painting in the Freer Gallery of Art, “Clearing Autumn Skies over Mountains and Valleys”. It is made of ink and color on silk, dates from the Historical Period known as Northern Song dynasty, mid-11th to early 12th century.

 

–Mai-Mai Sze, The Tao of Painting: A Study of the Ritual Disposition of Chinese Painting, p. 96

 

May k’ai wu come to all of us, everyone.

Yesterday’s mask production, fyi:

*The Shorter Oxford English Dictionary, vol. 1, p. 818

 

day two: time for a talking goldfish, and more viral humor!

First, here’s the viral humor (we need it), brought to us from a friend in cyberspace.  (Thanks, Tom!)

Second, a good message from one of the books I love, as promised yesterday, to help us cope with this weird health crisis. The story below tells of an encounter between a typical bureaucrat and a magical, yet very anxious goldfish.

“One day, when I was walking along a road, I suddenly heard someone calling me. I looked around, but saw nobody. When I looked down, it turned out to be a carp calling me from a dried rut. I went over to it, and asked, ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’ The carp, gasping, replied, ‘I am a minister of the God of the East Sea. I was swept here by a rainstorm, and now I cannot get back. I will soon die, unless you bring me a pail of water and put me in it.’ I said, ‘Of course, I can do that. But you must wait until I persuade the sovereigns of the states of Wu and Yue to allow me to use water from the Xijang River.’ Hearing this, the carp said, ‘Distant water cannot quench present thirst. You’ll find me in the dried fish market tomorrow!'”*

This cryptic fable was written some 2,200 years ago, by a writer unknown by most of us  (Zhuang Zi, c. 369 B.C. — 286 B.C.) who is very famous in China as a chief representative of the Taoist School.

You gotta love a talking goldfish, of course! How even cooler is it that this goldfish is shrewd and critical. For our purposes, the fable provides moral urgency and a sober punchline. “Distant water cannot quench present thirst.” Take it to mean anything you need: if you’re angry about the government’s actions, it works for you. If you’re in despair over getting access to a mask or test, it works for you.

However, it could be a more uplifting lesson too. If you, like me, are staying home to “shelter in place” and allow the coronavirus time to sweep through your region without adding to the casualties, give yourself credit. You are, in effect, giving water to present thirst. You’re feeding the quotient of healthy people so that we can resist the invisible enemy.

Thank you for helping, in any way you can!  And hang in there; we’re in it for the long duration, I think.  I’ll be back tomorrow with another good thought (and more humor, I hope).

*Zhang Fuxin, The Story of Zhuang Zi, trans. Zhang Tingquan (Beijing: Foreign Language Press, 2003), pp. 183-184.

Kimono silk quilt no. 2 projects yin, healing energy!

I just finished Kimono silk quilt no. 2 in the “Rainbow” series, and all I can say is: what a difference a border makes! Both this blanket and “Rainbow” no. 1 are made of scraps of vintage Kimono silk, but where quilt no. 1 projects a “yang” feeling, with its bright white background and dramatic splashes of purple color, quilt no. 2 represents the “yin” force, with its dark green ginkgo leaf border. The leaves look plump and curvy; they remind you of other living things such as butterflies and deer hooves. A stylish black floral binding ties it all together. A back in pale green tweed with pink hearts completes the look, making a holistic yin message of comfort and coziness.

Yin and yang, rest and activity, nesting and flying: we need all to feel healthy and alive.

Good health to you, wherever you are!

P.S. I hope you noticed the cranes, in the blue fabric above!  As promised in my 2/8/20 posting, each Kimono silk quilt will have a crane/ or some cranes in it, to bring long life and good luck to my clients. Together with the yin / yang design, these quilts are sure to provide comfort and balance, wherever they may go.

yin / yang symbol: a dualism, suggesting how seemingly opposite or contrary forces are actually complementary, interconnected, and interdependent. In the symbol, Yin–black–is the receptive force and Yang–white–is the active principle; since they are equally present, the circle remains constantly in balance. This complementary dualism exists in all forms of change and difference such as the annual cycle (winter and summer), the landscape (north-facing shade and south-facing brightness), sexual coupling (female and male), the formation of both women and men as characters, and theories of sociopolitical history (disorder and order).

Rainbow kimono silk quilt sparkles in sunshine! updated with news from Seattle Asian Art Museum

This quilt, made of tiny pieces of Japanese kimono silk, really sparkles in the sunlight!   May its beauty shine some cheer into your day.

The border fabric is cotton with a violet pattern from Terao, Japan, a region known for its wisteria.  (Thanks to Ashley M., who deciphered the characters for me.) The silks and cotton wisteria fabric came from Hosekibako–the elegant Japanese resale shop here in Seattle. Can’t wait to go back for more treasures!

P.S. I went to the Seattle Asian Art Museum today at the grand re-opening. It is a spring-like day here today; perfect for a trek to Capitol Hill. As we made our way back to West Seattle, the roads were (relatively) clear and trouble-free, the sky had fluffy white clouds, tiny sailboats flickered about on the blue waters off to the West, and all was cloaked in a subtle sense of well-being. That happiness is due in part at least to the art museum visit: seeing so many smiling, warm-looking Buddhas wishing you well does a world of good to the soul. And you must love the camels out front this art deco building–it brought back fond memories of climbing up and relaxing in their warm, smooth embrace, as a little kid. Reminded me of the Art Institute of Chicago also, and its lions.

The exhibits were all exquisitely balanced, well-contextualized by clear but un-intrusive signage, and thematically interesting. I liked the thematic organization; it makes it easier for non-specialists to see the differences between Chinese, Japanese, and Tibetan sculpture or painting , for example, when you see the objects side by side. Loved the Chinese landscapes with the tiny human figures and soaring mountains wrapped in mist, the adorable ducklings in the Chinese style, and the plum bough cloaked in snow.

But the best thing was to discover a link between my recent creation and Japanese tradition! Below you’ll see my big discovery: an eighteenth-century overcoat or kesa, where wisteria winds around other “auspicious motifs” including  chrysanthemums and peonies.  A phoenix flies by, adding to the baroque feel and hopeful message.

This visit reminded me of the profound eloquence of symbols. The crane–symbol of longevity–is featured in many delightful objects seen in the museum: for example this exquisite writing box.  My quilt also has a tiny crane–or more precisely, a white heron, also an emblem of good luck*–tucked inside; see it hiding in the reeds below?

It is so inspiring to see and to create objects that pass on an uplifting message with eloquent symbols. Since I already have two more underway, I hereby vow to create an entire line of Kimono silk quilts, and each one will have a crane and other “auspicious motifs” sewn directly into it, thereby providing hopes for good fortune and long life to all the people they touch.

*Thanks to my new acquaintances at Hosekibako, for explaining the difference between cranes and white herons!