Translation by Eugene Woodbury Available

Eugene completed a number of translations, most notably translations of Twelve Kingdoms novels. He understood that a translation is itself an art--not something that can be left to a machine. A translation needs to capture the tone and pacing of an original--as well as its allusions, even jokes!

In the past few years, he completed translations of Ranpo Edogawa's Boy Detectives Club books.

The first translation he made, The Space Alien, is now available on his blog.

The year is 1953. The Korean War is winding down. The Cold War is heating up. In 1952, the United States tested the first hydrogen bomb. In 1954, Godzilla will stomp onto the world stage. UFOs are appearing all over the world. And in Ranpo Edogawa’s latest young adult novel, five flying saucers zoom across the skies of Tokyo.

A day after that alarming incident, a woodsman stumbles out of the forest to report the landing of an alien spacecraft in the mountains southwest of Tokyo. A month later, Ichiro Hirano’s neighbor goes missing. He then reappears as abruptly as he vanished, claiming he was kidnapped by a mysterious winged lizard creature—

The same lizard creature that is now stalking the pretty and talented sister of Ichiro’s best friend. What in the world is going on? What do the aliens want? These are the kind of questions that only master sleuth Kogoro Akechi and the Boy Detectives Club can hope to answer.

Bromance, Sister Style: Brenda and Captain Raydor

Brenda and Captain Raydor (Sharon) meet in The Closer. They are frenemies since Captain Raydor works in Internal Affairs and takes issue with many of Brenda's actions. The two women acknowledge, quite frankly, that they don't like each other. 

However, Captain Raydor has the objectivity to put forward Brenda for the position of police chief or commissioner. She admires Brenda even if they are not best buddies. She later protects Brenda or, rather, gets Brenda to protect herself during a lawsuit. 

In a very cute moment in Season 6, Brenda's mother refers to Sharon, Captain Raydor, as Brenda's friend. Captain Raydor treats the moment as the "treat" or present that it is. To Will Pope, she repeats, "My friend Brenda."  

It's a great example of a relationship that avoids the "all women must cry at Beaches" label on female friendships--it has all the down-to-earth loyalty and intelligence and job-focus of male chivalrous relationships.  

Quite appropriately, Brenda and Sharon are sometimes "shipped"!  

Couples in Midsummer's Night Dream: Not That Romantic

Midsummer's Night Dream can be absolutely hilarious. 

But not because the lovers are terribly likable. I don't think this lack of likability is a mistake on Shakespeare's part. He was fully capable of creating likable lovers. Despite the far greater social stigma, Katherine and Petruchio are delightful. 

But the lovers in Midsummer's Night Dream are kind of jerks. And they bring up the uncomfortable possibility that romantic feelings are entirely arbitrary and significant others entirely replaceable. Although everyone ends up at the end with the significant other that everyone started out with, that pay-off is little more than a contrivance. 

I suggest again that Shakespeare was entirely aware of what he was doing. One appealing aspect of Shakespeare's plays is how many genres they fall into. Philosophy? Sure. Historical reenactment? Sure. Family drama? Sure. Horror? Sure. Romance? Sure. Raunch? High-jinks? Sure. Sure. 

Screwball comedy?  

Okay! 

Midsummer's Night Dream feels like Shakespeare took Romeo & Juliet, which he wrote about the same time, and  turned such emotional excess on its head. You want angst? Heh heh heh. The fairies will give you ANGST. 

“Lord, what fools these mortals be!”

The best version I've ever seen EVER was a televised version of a live "Shakespeare in the Park" starring (I'm not making this up) William Hurt as Oberon. You can find it below (the quality isn't so great). I've never laughed so hard in my life. 

Touchingly enough, the one couple who aren't totally mocked is Bottom and Tatiana. At the very end of the play within the play, he has a moment of greatness as an actor--and all due to spending a night in the otherworld, with the queen of the fairies.

1982 Midsummer Night's Dream, Part 1  

1982 Midsummer Night's Dream, Part II 

 

Disabilities in Romance

I recently wrote about Izzy from Voigt's Izzy-Willy-Nilly. A young woman who loses her leg, she worries that she will never have a boyfriend and marry. The fear is not the author's imposition. It is the natural fear of a young woman from a particular social background. 

The book got me thinking about physical disabilities in fiction. Generally speaking, I don't always find them terribly realistic. Far too often, they seem to involve the protagonist feeling as Izzy does followed by the secondary protagonist, the lover, reassuring the first protagonist, "No, no, it was never a concern!" 

Really? Never a concern? Seriously? Yeah, that makes absolutely no sense. It's rather like books where one protagonist purports to love the soul of another. The love is so abstract, it seems kind of valueless. After all, the difficulty and wonder of love is the reality of the physical, everyday experience.  

The manga Love in the Palm of His Hand is far more realistic (so far--Volume 3 comes out in April). Keito, who is deaf, worries that his disability will make life difficult for his boyfriend. Fujinaga worries that he can't learn sign and that his presence will keep Keito from being comfortable in a group of signing friends. They have various mishaps with communication. Keito's brother is less than supportive of their relationship. Both young men worry about Keito being able to enjoy Fujinaga's stage acting. 

What is impressive is that signing (referenced by the title) is not a solve-it-once-because-the-relationship-is-so-perfect event. It is part of the entire relationship. Fujinaga's over-the-top stage acting style has lost him film roles. Yet that same physical expression fits with what he wants to do in the long run. And it enables him to quickly comprehend and enjoy communicating with his boyfriend. 

Disability is used NOT as "see, the lovers overcame something--hurrah" but, rather, as a way to explore how a relationship functions between two distinct people.   

Frenemies as Lovers

Black Sun's protagonists start as as enemies. In fact, Leonard is the prisoner of Jamal, a trope that many publishers and readers shy from. I find it at least more honest than some frenemy arrangements, in which the "hostage"-taking is purely emotional (one member of the couple feels indebted to the other). 

However, this type of frenemy relationship works best in historical romances. The current trend of plots where modern-day protagonists form relationships with sociopaths, I admittedly find a tad nihilistic. 

I prefer my frenemies to be rooted not in emotional enthrallment but in personality differences. Leonard and Jamal are different but complementary. In a more modern setting, so are Minato and Shizuma from Therapy Game Restart. 

Minato in the "tacky" shirt

Shizuma bought.

Minato is smart, sharp-tongued, wary, self-aware, uncertain, quick-tempered, and dogged in his commitment. Shizuma is mellow, easy-going (despite being a hard-working and dedicated veterinarian), understanding, and easily romantic. 

Although their relationship is far more fraught with ups and downs than the brothers' relationship (Minato's brother is dating Shizuma's brother), it has grit--and believability. 

Frenemies in romance is best not as a state of continual uncertainty--but as a state of continual negotiations.

Uki Ogasawara's Black Sun

I am reviewing romance "paperbacks"--that is, romance books that do not fall into the "acceptably literary" tradition. 

I love Austen and Heyer and Bronte. 

But I also love romances that don't necessarily fall into the category of so-called Great Literature.

I've reached "U" authors, and I admit to being somewhat stymied. Not many "U" authors at all, let alone in romance! 

I gave myself permission to go with first names as well as last names and to go to manga (which generally speaking, I have been reviewing separately). 

Black Sun by Uki Ogasawara is one of my favorite yaoi manga. One reason is that the characters have distinct personalities and retain those personalities through the 2 volumes. (One problem I note with romance is when characters become instantly "cute"--and follow a script--the moment they fall in love.) 

Below is character analysis from one of my earliest posts on this blog:

Jamal and Leonard's seemingly unlikely compatibility in Black Sun is highlighted by their easy physical "banter."

Character development plays a role here. Despite his spiritual and idealistic nature, Leonard is more than capable of keeping up with Jamal physically. Leonard may have a sweet and ethereal disposition; his desire for touch, for affection, has been a fundamental aspect of his personality from childhood. 

Jamal's larger-than-life persona at first evokes hero-worship from Leonard. But Jamal doesn't want to be set on a pedestal (it's so boring). He provides Leonard with a down-to-earth reality that Leonard never anticipated and finds incredibly restful.

At the end of Black Sun, Leonard still retains his quiet, Gilly-like nature. But he has learned to gently and cleverly tease Jamal back.  

Love After the Passage of Years: Is it Possible?

I mention on Votaries that the Holmes's tale "The Adventure of the Crooked Man" is deeply romantic. Arthur Conan Doyle was a man with a deeply romantic nature--one possible reason his Holmes comes across as somewhat more layered and complex than the man pretends to be. 

The story is a good one, and the Granada production is excellent. 

Interestingly enough, both tale and episode do not try to explain what will happen to Henry Wood next. Will he stay away from Nancy? Will she try to seek him out? Their positions in Edwardian society would make a marriage unlikely. But the question here is more universal. 

With the passage of time, are romantic feelings from the past enough to restart a relationship? 

Stargate SG-1 has a great episode, "The Torment of Tantalus," where Catherine goes through the gate to track down her fiance Dr. Ernest Littlefield who went through the gate 52 years earlier. 

A later passing reference suggests that Catherine and Ernest got back together. 

And I kind of don't buy it. 

In the nurture/nature debate, I tend to come down (partly) on the side of nature, as in genetics. But in the nature/agency debate, I come down on the side of choice. 

A person's character can stay much the same. But that person isn't un-impacted by experience. People make decisions that lead to other decisions that lead to other decisions. C.S. Lewis comments in one of his books that the choices look haphazard at the time but entirely organic and "meant" or fated in retrospect.

As Joe in Joe versus the Volcano remarks, "It's a long crooked road that brought me here to you." 

Is Catherine the same person she was in 1945? In essence, sure. But in lifestyle? Living arrangements? Wants? Needs? 

For instance, the woman is a powerhouse and was when she was younger (excellently played in the episode by Nancy McClure). In 1945, marriage was more of a given. She's managed without marriage for years. And now she's going to change her mind? 

Maybe she just hauls Ernest around with her like an extra retainer. 

As for Nancy and Henry Wood, she might leave her life and go with him. But the time period and their backgrounds could likely preclude them overlooking the social stigmas. 

Maybe the memory of romance in that case is enough.