Mraaow!

Mom sez Back Off.

One of Budapest Zoo’s rare Persian leopard cubs (Panthera pardus saxicolor) rests beside her mother during the first public appearance of the triplet cubs, Bella, Bara and Bahar in Budapest, Hungary, Tuesday, Aug. 14, 2007. The triplets were born on June 19. (AP Photo/Bela Szandelszky)

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On this day last year

The Maori queen died.

What I didn’t know last year, when I posted about it, was that she would lie buried in an unmarked grave, as a sign of equality with her people.  I find that very affecting…. economical, too.
Also, I didn’t know that a large chunk of Maoridom thought she was not their queen, and that she was a bit of a glory hound.  Whenever we borrow from another culture, the questions start.  What is it to be Pakeha?  What is it to be Maori?   If she was really a hereditary chief, why was she called a queen?

Kafka on the Shore

This is another Murakami novel, and although I liked Hardboiled Wonderland, I’m appreciating this one even more.  It is full of descriptions which continually edge up against the banal, and then slide past your expectations and go to a place entirely new.

There’s a picture of Murakami on the back cover.  He’s in his late fifties, and he has a face that makes you think, “A sense of humour, a sense of wonder, a sense for the rhythm of things.”

Seven deadly sentiments

I plead guilty to some of these.

No 1…. check.  I occasionally react with revulsion and startlement to disfigured people.  I usually control my reaction reasonably fast.  But I am not cheerful with my attitude.

No 2…. nope.  I like going to funerals because they are usually fun.  Especially when she’s over 90 and kicked ass.

No 3.  Schadenfreude? I recollect a conversation in which I was the only person at the table who pleaded guilty.  My goodness, I lower the tone sometimes.

No 4.  Playing favourites with the kids.  Because my kids have different interests and abilities, I have always, from day 1, treated them differently.  I don’t think I play favourites, but they might.

No 5.  Weighing the wallet.  People who are broke and self-actualized have higher status with me than wealthy emotional deadbeats.  But I am middle class, and sometimes I have to tease apart the notion of worth from the notion of flushness.  Specially if I’m ‘specting you to buy lunch.

No 6.  Thank God it’s finally over.  I figured, on the basis of what my GF Tammy said, that I’d be prostrate with grief from my split with Paul.  I moved out the beginning of May and I have had three twinges and one crying jag… and the crying jag was about the house, not him.  I’m not sorry I had children with him, but I had NO CLUE how relieved I’d be when I didn’t have to live with him any more.  He’s not malicious, stupid, dishonest, addicted or lazy – quite the contrary.  I’m just not his flavour any more, and vice versa.  So yeah, I’m guilty of the not crying when maybe I ought to, but as a kindly relative remarked, I did a lot of grieving before I ever closed that door.

No 7.  Whee hee, fantasy.  I prefer staying focussed in the moment, with my partner, but that probably has more to do with me being Ye olde school hippye chicke than anything else.

Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World

…. is a novel by Japanese writer Haruki Murakami.  LTGW loaned it to me last week and I’ve finally worked my way through it.

I suspect I will have to read it again, but any book which is ‘about’ consciousness and contains the sentence “I was myself, waiting on the shore for me to return”  is probably worth it.

The relentless quotidian detail, mixed with monsters, mad scientists, music, netherworlds and endless fashion details, had me thinking about Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Next up:  “Kafka on the Shore,” also loaned by LGTW (he’s moving and he’ll have fewer things to move this way…)  I had a copy of “Wild Sheep Chase” but I haven’t seen it since the move.

世界の終りとハードボイルド・ワンダーランド
Sekai no owari to hādoboirudo wandārando