• Tag Archives Asia
  • The Self & The Other

    Beltane                                Waxing Strawberry Moon

    Finally, some sun.  That’s good for the bees, good for the veggies and good for the spirit.

    I collect articles on certain subjects:  art, aesthetics, philosophy, political theory, modernism, individualism for instance.  Over the last few months there has been an interesting increase in the number of articles I’ve found with new takes on individualism.

    Let me give you an example.  You might think of the existentialist as one end of the continuum, radical individualists, almost, sometimes actually, solipsistic.  That’s me philosophically and in terms of deep belief about matters often called religious.  On the other end you might consider the Asian cultures in which the individual has no unique identity except as they function within the family or the state.  You might be the second son, the first wife, a citizen of a particular city or region.  Feudalism, too, had a class based view of the person.  Peasants were a large, amorphous group who worked the land, did jobs like tanning, blacksmithing, weaving, but whose individual qualities were of little obvious merit.

    It’s not surprising that the enlightenment with its focus on reason, blended with the Renaissance emergence of the individual as a psychological reality had such a powerful and corrosive affect on feudal culture.  It moved away from class based political and social structures toward more democratic and meritocratic ones.

    Anyhow, here’s the interesting piece I read the other day.  Those of us, like me, who believe in the inviolable isolation of our Self, forever walled off from the rest by the flesh and our peculiar, ineluctably unique internal world have it wrong.  The Self, in this view, is socially constructed.  We are who others see us to be, or, said another way, we see ourselves in the way that others see us.  In this perspective the political libertarian, the leave me alone and let me do it my way Rand Paul crowd, denies the very nature of the system within which they live.  That is, at one level, it is a system made of up of intimately connected parts, parts that could not be without the other.   There is, from this perspective, no alone; we are always apart of, perhaps not in the more rigidly defined feudal or Asian family way, but in a manner much closer to them than to the live alone, die alone types like me.

    In fact, this article goes on to compare the socially constructed self and the democratic state with love, a bond in which we are only who we are in relation to each other.  This makes us, if we deny this bond as libertarians do, jilted lovers when our dependence on the state and each other is revealed.

    Politically, I find this argument compelling, explaining as it does the Tea Party anger as the anger of lovers in denial.

    Personally, the socially constructed aspect of the self cannot be denied.  Even the stance of the existentialist comes from reading, say, Camus or Sartre or Kierkegaard, a fellowship of lonesome strangers.  Yes, the fingers of the other does reach into the interior, switching on certain perceptions, switching off others.  Yet, this much is still true:  no one knows my inner world.  No one except me.  No one has lived my life.  No one but me.  No one else will die when I wink out.  No one.  These radically separate realities keep me on the existentialist end of the bell curve.  At least for now.


  • Curiosity

    Fall                                   New Blood Moon

    “Curiosity is one of the most permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous intellect.” – Samuel Johnson

    That may be, but I can tell you from experience that it can also lead one astray.  Since I was old enough to trek off to the library on my own, I’ve followed so many different paths, walked so many ancientrails.  The problem is this.  Each one leads to another one, or, somewhere in the midst of searching for material on liberalism I might find a remark about Greek ideas about justice.  That leads me in thought back to the Greeks, but instead of pursuing Plato I may wander off to the Iliad or perhaps to the  idea of the classics in general which might push me over to Ovid or, aware of the vast chasm between our Western knowledge of the Greek classics and any knowledge of the Asian equivalents I might get shunted off to, say, Confucius or Lao-Tse.  By that time I may recall a tour of Asian art I have on October 16th, feel a slight twinge and decide to  prepare for that.  And, where did all this start again?

    This sort of meandering (I have seen the Meander River which gave rise to the Greek symbol so often seen in decorative arts.) does accrete knowledge.  It’s a slow process and the linkages may not become apparent for years, but I find now that associations, not obvious ones, come more easily.  Perhaps all those ancientrails had secret or frequent intersections that were not apparent the first or even the second or third times I used them.  I’m not sure, but there is a richness to thinking now that I don’t believe I had access to when I was younger.

    Any of you have a similar experience?


  • Where to Buy Japanese Gardening Tools? Home Depot!

    69  bar falls 29.56  5mph WNW dew-point 53   Summer, pleasant with fluffy cumulus gathering

    Last Quarter Flower Moon

    When in Hawai’i I noticed the Filipino gardeners at the Hyatt had small, sickle like tools.  One of them had a serrated edge down and a cutting edge up.  The other had a slightly curved blade and a very sharp edge facing down.  They used them to easily uproot weeds, edge grass and other plants.  I asked the guy where I could buy them, “Home Depot.”  Of course, where else?

    In fact, Home Depot did not have them, but Ace Hardware did.  It was your next guess was it not?  The ones I found were $8 and had a bamboo shaft.  When I packed them in my checked luggage, I felt like I might get stopped at security.  First, box cutters.  Now, Japanese gardening tools.

    Yesterday I discovered the the second of these tools was a whiz at cutting back perennials whose leaves had died back.  By putting the blade just into the soil and cutting back toward myself, the leaves came off with ease, leaving the bulbs in mother earth where they belong.  Today I finished the daffodils.  I have a lot of daffodils so their leaft behinds are voluminous.   Into the red plastic tub and then out to the discard pile.  The plastic tubs are also great gardening tools.  Cheap and capacious, they are also light and indestructible.

    Read an interesting article about Singapore in the Smithsonian magazine.  It says Singapore has become fun city.  Well, not quite.  But, compared to the authors first visit 37 years ago during r&r from Vietnam War coverage it was “Laissez bon temps roulez.” Bars in entertainment zones can stay open until dawn.  Theatre has begun to pop up and traveling musicians now include Singapore on their itinerary.

    When I visited in 2004, one of the things that amazed me was seeing women, unescorted, walking the streets well after midnight.  My hunch is that relaxation of the puritan, or rather, Confucian value system may endanger that.

    This “Asian values” idea, promoted by Singaporean political leaders, and rooted in Confucianism veers away from Master K’ung-fu-tzi in one very salient area.  In the Confucian world there was a distinct hierarchy of professions.  The emperor and courtiers, mandarins and nobles were at the top.  Then came landowners, farmers, woodcutters and fisherfolk.  After these, artisans.  At the very bottom, consigned to almost a pariah role, were merchants.  Merchants, Confucius believed, created nothing, adding nothing to the culture, rather they made money moving around the goods and food-stuffs created by the labor of others.

    Singapore, much of Southeast Asia and certainly Taiwan, Japan and China are, in that wise, far removed from the core values of Confucius.

    Off for a nap.  More gardening tomorrow morning.


  • The Quiet American

    53  bar falls 29.88 4mph NE dewpoint 33 Beltane   sunny

                   First Quarter of the Hare Moon

             odebangkok400.jpg

                                      The Quiet American

    Here’s my buddy, Mark Odegard in Thailand.  I can’t tell if this is the palace grounds or not, but I do remember just this sign.  It made me stop and think, too.  He’s just finishing up a safe sex exhibit for UNESCO and says he has come to love Thailand. 

    Southeast Asia has a fascinating pull.  Mark and Mary succumbed to it years ago and have spent much of their adult lives there.  I’ve visited only once, but the memories are fresh and pull me back.  Part of the allure, of course, is the unfamiliar.  Southeast Asia as a place has figured little in American thought and history with the notable exception of Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos.  In those instances subjugation, not understanding was our goal, so the cultures and the people there remained opaque.

    Another part of the attraction is the sense of confidence in their culture that these small countries have.  Thailand has not been conquered since the Angkor days of Khmer invasions.  Cambodia, though pummeled and ruined by first the U.S., then the Khmer Rouge, has a sweet, ancient flavor that overcomes even those dismal moments.  Singapore is a confident, bustling country, Asia lite as my sister says.  Malaysia has an old culture, too, layered over now with Islam, but still retaining a rotating monarchy and other traditional customs.  Burma remains largely the old days when the flying fishes went to play in far off Mandalay.  It retains a more traditional cast because the ruling junta has placed an umbrella over the country, blocking out the light and keeping the people subservient.  Indonesia has a huge population and much diversity with its many islands, but its Indonesian reality seems strong to me.

    It is also cheap, easy for Americans to navigate financially and in that regard much more appealing than the Euro dominated Europe.

    Since I travel often to become a stranger, an outsider, a foreigner, Southeast Asia fulfilled my need at each stop, but each time in a different way:  food, ruins, people, cities, colors, art. 

    Someday I will return


  • Orientalists All Three

    Back from a workout.  Slower today.  As I went out on the lanai before I headed for my aerobics, I noticed a disturbance in the calm.  A rustle of waves preceded a fluke, it fanned in the air glistening with water, then followed the great body down.  A birthday wish from an ocean mammal to a land mammal.  Mahalo.

    As I walked along the ocean, I reflected a bit on the peculiar fate of my nuclear family.  Mom died early.  Dad lived several unhappy years in a marriage ill-fitted to both him and Rosemary.  Mary ended up first in Malyasia, then in Singapore, following her interest in linguistics.  Mark traveled the world from Vladivostok to Moscow, Moscow to Turkey, Turkey to Israel, then, by some route to Bangkok which he found just right.  They’ve both in Asia almost longer than I lived in Alexandria.  Though I’ve remained stateside, I have developed, quite independently of them, an interest in Asian art, cinema, literature and, of late, philosophy. 

    Then, too, there is love affair with the Islands.  What is it about our lives, childhoods in the most common of Midwestern smalltowns, parents with no interest as far as I know in anything Asian, that lead us, all three, by quite different routes to turn our faces east?  It would be easy to cite the ascendance of Asia in the last two decades as a magnetic influence, but in fact all three of us have had our interests prior to those decades.

    There is one thing common to all three of us, the wanderlust.  Mom was overseas during WW II and Dad found traveling significant for its own sake.  I suppose this gave us all a sense of rootlessness, or, at least, made it easy to detach ourselves from the familiar, and so opened us to the wide world.  What strange motion in the quantum sphere torqued our attention toward China, Singapore, Thailand, Japan I do not know.  But, it is a fact.


  • A Chingis Khan Red Water Buffalo Wallet

    30  77%  24%  3mph NNW bar30.04 falls windchill28 Imbolc

                    Waning Crescent of the Winter Moon

    Got a package today from Mary in Singapore.  It came with many, many stamps bearing the picture of the large golden tree squirrel.  Looks like a lemur to me.  She sent a wonderful anthology of contemporary Asian art and, as has become her habit, knowing my interest in cinema, the largest grossing Asia movie for 2007.  And a red water buffalo wallet with Chinghis Khan on the front.  The only one in my neighborhood.

    Having kin in Southeast Asia makes it feel less foreign, less faraway.  It also means I get a ground level view of events there like the tsunami and the political unrest in Thailand for example.  It is a privilege to have this window on these Asian cultures and one I cherish.

    Today I will finish Hero, the Jet Li wu shu feature about the assassin and Qin Shi Huang Di.  It is one of two recent Chinese movies dealing with the king of Qin, Shi Huang Di, who unified the six warring states at the end of the eastern Zhou dynasty.  He has a peculiar position in Chinese history, since he is seen as the father of a unified China, but also as a tyrant and a destroyer of cultural treasures.  In the interest of a common language and culture for a unified China he is said to have burned all the books he could get his hands on at the time. 

    He then decreed a common script and common laws, using the political philosophy of Han Fei-Zi.  Han Fei-Zi was a political thinker whose general type of thought became known as Legalism since it elevated a strict system of laws and punishment even above the ruler.  His political philosophy reminded me most of Machiavelli’s Prince, but I may not understand them either of them very well.  In my view they both see themselves as realists, preferring the pragmatic to the ideal, the functional to the just.  In this sense neither of them are as villianous as history has cast them; they might be seen as situational relativists, creating a system of governance that works for the times, not for all time.

    Hero and The Emperor and the Assassin both portray Qin Shi Huang Di as a clever, courageous and intelligent ruler. Both also portray him as relentless, paranoid and unyielding.  In Hero the focus is on the Jet Li character, Nameless, the prefect of a Qin ten mile square area.  In the Emperor and the Assassin the focus is on the king himself and his lover from the stater of Zhao, where they both grew up.  They are very different movies with, I think, very different intentions, but both present an interesting take on this controversial man, the first Emperor of China.