Showing posts with label perennial philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label perennial philosophy. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Non-fiction: Review of Wisdom of the Mythtellers by Sean Kane



Journey to the West, one of the ‘four great novels of the Chinese canon’, is most often attributed to Wu Chengen.  Author and title requisite for fiction these days, most take for granted that indeed, he is the one who penned the story.  Wu is, in fact, the person who collected, collated, fit, polished, and presented in finished form the myriad pieces of the magnificent tale of Sun Wukong, Sanzang, and their quest for the holy sutras.  The original story having undergone thousands of iterations by street corner storytellers, the result is a narrative that holds its history in episodic rather than escalating form.

But this simple transition in the evolution of storytelling in China, from oral to written tradition, is but one minor—and late—step in the history of storytelling as a whole.  Before street corner storytellers were bards, and before bards, shamans, and before shamans simple gossip over the campfire—thousands and thousands of years of human culture and existence covered in this simple statement.  Tracing story and myth all the way back to its roots, another observation can be made in the manner in the evolution of stories: humanity’s subservience, or lack thereof, to nature.  From the Paleolithic to the Mesolithic, Neolithic to the Bronze, Iron to the Information Age, humanity, an idea in this context identified by the West, has shifted its stance on the power of the Earth and its inherent forces.  Where once gods inhabited every rock and shadow, it was whittled down to a pantheon, and from the pantheon, distilled into one ruling god, and from one god to the belief mankind holds its fate in its own hands.  Science fiction the mode of discourse which most obviously represents the latter, we are left with scraps and tatters of what remains of the former.  Enter Sean Kane’s Wisdom of the Mythtellers (1998).

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Review of "Thief of Time" by Terry Pratchett



Thief of Time is, according to Wikipedia, Terry Pratchett’s 26th official entry into the Discworld series.  Published roughly six months after The Truth and six months before The Last Hero, Thief of Time finds Pratchett in good form, extemporizing on the scientific quest to put time in a bottle versus more transcendental ideologies revolving around passive regard to the great clock of life (pun intended for those who’ve read the book!).

Thief of Time opens at a monastery where the History Monks keep the spindles of time greased and spinning eternally.  Lobsang Lud, a common monk, averts a major disaster one day and earns himself an apprenticeship with the master, Lu-tze.  Meanwhile in Ankh-Morpork, a down-on-his-luck clockmaker, Jeremy Clockson, is commissioned by an Auditor-in-disguise to build the world’s first glass clock, and is not told that the giant mechanism will in fact stop time rather than measure it.  Seeking the stoppage of time to have the time to account for all the matter and molecules in the world, the Auditors send one of their own, Myria Lejean, to ensure Jeremy performs his commission, little knowing the effects and influence of mortal life will have on her.  When Lobsang and Lu-tze learn of the secret plot, they rush to Ankh-Morpork to stop the end of time.  All hell breaking loose—literally and figuratively—when they arrive in town, it seems everyone on the Disc is a stakeholder in the moment.  

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Review of "The Farthest Shore" by Ursula Le Guin



Ursula Le Guin’s Earthsea Cycle is often downplayed as YA given the style of writing and relatively simple structure of the plots.  Entirely unfair, the novels’ thematic material is complex—far from juvenile.  Self-actualization and discovering personal freedom the subjects of the first two books in the Cycle, A Wizard ofEarthsea and The Tombs of Atuan, respectively, Le Guin returns for a third bildungsroman.  Coming to terms with death the theme this time around, with The Farthest Shore Le Guin continues to challenge readers, young and adult, with heavy yet poignant subject matter in a highly imaginative setting and story.

The Farthest Shore is the story of the prince Arren and his conquering fear of death.  Ged having risen to Archmage since A Wizard ofEarthsea and Tenar having helped bring peace with the ring of Erreth-Akbe in The Tombs of Atuan, things would seem settled in Earthsea.  But subtly a new threat sweeps the archipelago, and the king sends his son, Arren, to inquire of the Masters of Roke what is to be done regarding this elusive threat.  The Masters collectively indecisive, Ged sets out with the young man in his old sailboat Lookfar to discover the source of the malaise engulfing the land and stealing the spirit of the people.  Ged and Arren face many hardships tracking down this intangible evil, but the fate they ultimately confront challenges them like no other, altering their lives forever in the process.  

It’s no secret that The Darkest Shore is the heaviest of Le Guin’s Earthsea Cycle.  This, however, should not put off readers.  Dialogue bursting with perennial wisdom regarding life and death, a profound wisdom is expressed in its pages that not only pushes the book beyond YA status, but makes for positive, worthwhile reading on a subject rarely broached by fantasy.  Readers will encounter a viewpoint they perhaps have never heard before and be richly rewarded for lending an ear.

But for all the meaning of existence discussed, the book is also chock full of fantastical imagination.  Le Guin dresses the theme of death in clothes that never shy from reality, yet soften the discussion in an engaging and interest-building tone.  Dragons play their largest role in the Cycle to date, not to mention a variety of unique cultures and living standards are presented in a style coloring what would otherwise be a dreary story; Ged and Arren’s adventures take them through more than just the dark side.  The raft people, for example, are a singular creation of fantasy that prove Le Guin is in her element when writing, their culture reverberating with theme every water dance they perform.  

In the end, The Farthest Shore is another great Earthsea novel.  It combines unique storytelling, imaginative settings, profound theme, realistic characterization, and perennial philosophy in mythic tones no other writer on the fantasy scene can.  Accountable to all ages, those who dismiss the book as YA have obviously not looked deeply into the dialogue between Arren and Ged or the symbolism quietly tucked away in the story’s setting and character behavior.  Delivering a message and telling a story, readers could ask for little more in this third bildungsroman rounding out the original Earthsea trilogy.

(For those who have read the book and the Earthsea Cycle as a whole, you may be interested in reading a paper I wrote on its Daoist tenets and angles on contemporary theory called "Ursula Le Guin’s Earthsea Cycle: Paralleling Contemporary Theory with an Eye to the Past".  Part I is here and Part II, here.)

Monday, May 28, 2012

Review of "The Wisdom of India" ed. by Lin Yutang

Originally coming off the press as The Wisdom of China and India, publishers have since chosen to split the 1,100 pages of fine print into its natural two halves.  For the Indian half, Lin Yutang, editor of the anthology, chooses to focus on the philosophy of Hinduism and Buddhism.  Thus, readers looking for a practical outlay of the day to day ritual and ceremony of Hindu and Buddhist worship should be aware that the book’s focus is the wisdom, mythology, and mysticism of the two Eastern worldviews instead, save ancient words on yoga and meditation.  As a result, perhaps no better introduction to Indian perennial philosophy exists in one book.

The Wisdom of India contains a profound selection of texts from the Indian canon.  Representing Hinduism are the complete Upanishads, Bhagavad-Gita, and Ramayana, as well as selections from the Rigveda and yoga aphorisms of Patanjali.  Representing Buddhism are the Dhammapada, three sermons by Buddha, Edwin Arnold’s Life of Buddha, the Surangama Sutra, and a selection of Buddhist parables and legends.  Topping off the book is a selection of fables from the Panchatantra and the Enchanted Parrot that have a egalitarian feel similar to 1001 Arabian Nights.  Giving free rein to the texts to speak for themselves, Lin acts solely as editor.  His introductions brief (a handful of pages for each text) and his commentary almost non-existent, he forgoes the technical or academic approach and allows the reader to form their own thoughts.
A milestone at its publishing in 1942, The Wisdom of India has since become one of many books attempting to bring the mindset of the East to the West.  Born and raised in China, Lin offers something that most scholars of European descent cannot, however.  His own culture influenced and in turn influencing Indian’s,  the parallels of Chinese and Indian thought run much closer than any of the West’s big three: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.  Thus Lin’s introductions and commentary to the selections offer nuggets of insight typically not available to the Western mind.  Secondly, that Lin is very selective, using translations of the texts by Indian writers when available, a more in depth view of perennial Indian philosophy is presented.
In the end, the reader would be hard pressed to find a better compilation of the Indian canon in a single volume.  Analysis light, readers should not expect an academic text loaded with footnotes and commentary, nor a look into the daily practices of each religion.  Unfortunately, for reasons of length in the original edition, Lin was unable to include the Mahabharata, which remains the lone blemish on the book.  However, that what remains is considered the most important and sacred of Indian texts should speak for itself.  At turns wise, satirical, philosophical, sacred, spiritual, and funny, the greatest quantity of not only Indian but universal wisdom can be found in the book--bar locating the individual texts themselves.  Anyone looking for an introduction to Indian philosophy or a place where nearly all the most important texts are gathered under one roof should look no further.  (As a side note, the other half, The Wisdom of China, is equally good.)