February 9, 2011

• Reading a Hard Book...

  For Christmas, my father gave me a slim used paperback book entitled "The No Plays of Japan" by Arthur Waley. Overjoyed to see a book with translated versions of the No plays, I jumped right in-- to the 60 page introduction--- which is where I am today. I'm a good reader, with good reading strategies and a fairly extensive vocabulary. Before this book arrived in my life, I'd done some historical research on the development of storytelling in the No play format. I had read a couple of novels written about the men who carve the masks used in the theater productions. A friend's sister's father-in-law was considered one of Japan's national treasures for his life work in No theater and his son has spent his entire life walking in his father's footsteps so I'm familiar with the personal investment and cost.

  But I've not seen a production- not live, not on TV, not on youtube. My knowledge was about how the plays were developed, a few of the greatest actors, and how the role of the mask tells the story. None of that prepared me for this book. The new terminology is extensive and in Japanese (a language in which I can barely say "hello" and "sorry" and "wait" in). The stage design impacts the story telling and I find myself constantly flipping to the diagram to figure out where what happens when and why when I encounter a description. 

  As I work my way through the introduction, reading and re-reading a passage, I sneak a peek at the plays to come and wonder about going straight to them, but then I encounter a piece of valuable information that is required for comprehension of the play in a deeper, more subtle way. So I keep working at it. 

  At the same time, I'm reading another difficult book, a translated copy of "The Travels Of Marco Polo" (The Venetian) - Is there more than one Marco Polo writing about his travels? I think to myself, seeing the subtitle. It's difficult for different reasons. Mostly because its flowery, overly descriptive writing echoes in my brain so I read..."When they draw nigh to his person, they paid their respects by prostrating themselves on the floor." My brain echoes loudly... draw nigh, draw nigh, prostrating, prostrating, etc. It gets very annoying and makes reading slower than necessary. Why does my brain do that? Does it think I need to slow down and cherish each phrase before moving on or am I a bit crazy? Not sure.

  I'm reading a couple of easy reads as well, some Jim Butcher adventure series and The Thursday Next series as well thanks to my book club influence. I can read a book a day when I'm reading something simple, but these difficult books can take months. 

  It reminds me of the way we introduce books to our kids. Some kids take to books easily, not hesitating when they encounter difficult material while others still choke on new content even when you do a ton of pre-reading to prepare them for the book. Kids without a lot of world experiences have a more difficult time with new content. It's hard to draw conclusions or analogies when you have nothing to compare it to. If you've never ridden a pony on the beach at night, it's hard to imagine what riding an elephant in the jungle is like. You can't paint pictures in your head from the words on the page if you can't imagine what those words mean. I can show you a picture of an elephant, or a 3D model of one, and we can watch clips of jungles and elephant rides, but there's no personal connection to the print. When we go to the zoo, I'll pay extra for the elephant and camel rides and we'll re-read that story. Finally, as if by magic, the story connects and the reader wants to keep struggling with the content because it's personal. 

  In this age of funding cuts, field trips are easy casualties. Why pay to take a bunch of kids on a trip to the zoo or the apple farm when you can't make the budget meet? Because if we want a nation of readers, of thinkers, of kids who will fight for their education, we need to make sure we provide them with the resources they need to connect to all kinds of content. And that means every kid- the rich, the poor, the smart, the not-so smart ones. AND we need to convince educators to move the few trips they're allowed to take to the beginning of a unit of study and not at the end as if it's a reward for surviving it. 

  Meanwhile, since I nearly totaled my car this week, and am a bit unsure about going out into the big cold world, I'm taking on page 49 of the introduction of the No plays. Because someday, when I go to Japan, we're going to the No theater to see my friend's brother-in-law perform in plays his father and his father before him and his father before him performed in, wearing some of the very same clothing, and I'm going to at least understand the art, if not the words!

  • 1:03 pm
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