Deru Kugi: A Novel about an Alternate Japan

The novel Deru Kugi, by Stan Rice, has recently been published on Amazon Kindle.

This is the author’s summary from Amazon:

 “Hanao Takemoto was a deru kugi—a nail that sticks out. He was strange in Japanese society because he stayed away from the work-hard-play-harder Japanese business culture. Morey Rice was an American friend who lived with the Takemoto family as an exchange student. Morey fell in love with Hanao’s sister Sumiko and never quite recovered from it. Sumiko later married a Japanese man and terminated her friendship with Morey.

“Japan had long reposed under American military protection. But when America begins to alienate its allies, Japan looks to a strong, brilliant business leader, who designs sophisticated ninja drones, to build up its military forces: Minoru Heike, Hanao’s brother in law, Sumiko’s husband. War almost breaks out, with Heike’s hard-liners facing Donald Trump’s loyalists. War is narrowly averted as Heike and the American Secretary of War both commit ritual suicide. Sumiko, as Heike’s widow, feels obligated to kill herself by jumping from a cliff. Morey and Hanao see her and rush to stop her. Will they reach her in time?”

The subtitle says this is a novel about an alternate Japan. That is, history the way it did not and cannot happen. There are many such novels. There are even a few of them about Japan, such as Daikon, by Samuel Hawley. In Hawley’s novel there were not just two but three atomic bombs pointed at Japan. The first two, of course, were for Hiroshima and Nagasaki as in history. The third, fictional one was on a plane that crashed and the bomb was recovered by Japanese forces, who prepared to use it against America. Now that is a clever plot! I will not tell you more about it.

The title Deru Kugi comes from the Japanese saying, Deru kugi wa utareru: the nail that sticks out will be hammered down. This refers to the overwhelming sense of conformity in Japanese society, as opposed to American individualism, in which the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

Rice’s novel is not quite as clever as Hawley’s, but it still gets us to think about how likely it could be that America and Japan, which have so long been close allies, would go to war against one another a second time. It would seem unlikely, except that America, under Trump, is alienating long-time allies. Recently, Japan eliminated the famous Article Nine from its constitution, the article that prohibited building an army that could launch aggression against another country. In real life, Japan is now building its military capacity. They no longer trust America to protect them (despite heavy American investments) from China and North Korea.

This novel, as with Rice’s other novels, face up to serious issues. One that most readers have not heard about is the continued prejudice against the descendants of burakumin, the outcasts of traditional Japanese society. They now officially have full rights as citizens, but this doesn’t mean everyone likes them. Hanao’s wife is burakumin.

It is quite clear to the reader that Rice has had very long and intimate contact with Japan. There are many Japanese sentences in the novel, which the author must have written from his own personal knowledge of Japanese conversation, rather than the use of Google artificial intelligence. For example, if a Japanese person says (the sentence used in every introductory Japanese class) Kore wa hon desu, it is pronounced Kore wa hon des’. An author just picking things up from Google Translate would not know this. Also, the main plot (the narrator and a Japanese woman) is conveyed with a tenderness that must have come from actual experience.

This novel, even though it takes us to the brink of war, is riddled with humor, starting with the first sentence: “Hanao’s business associate, Chiramisu Yamaguchi, had gold coming out of his ass. Literally.” And he invented a lot of artificial-intelligence drones that are like ninja weapons. Rice also includes four embedded short stories, including “The multi-colored shakuhachi player of Hamarin Village,” based obviously on the Pied Piper of Hamelin.

Readers of this blog will enjoy Deru Kugi, a novel from which you will learn a lot.

The Princess of Kashgar: A Historical Romance about Science and Common Sense

How often do you find the scientific method used in a historical romance? Not very often. But you will find it in The Princess of Kashgar by Stan Rice which I introduced in an earlier essay. Only it is not a presentation of the scientific method as developed by a succession of white Renaissance men. It is a method that the Asian protagonists discover and adopt for themselves. Science, to them, is just organized common sense, which is what Thomas Henry Huxley called it. It is based on being thoughtfully observant of the world, like the protagonists Arzu and Tao.

You cannot tell from the Amazon summary that there is any scientific content in this novel at all. But that is why I am writing about it in this science blog. The science is hidden within the sentence, “They unintentionally corrupt this paradise.”

The paradise in Princess of Kashgar, the Valley of the Peach Blossoms, is strictly communistic. Everyone is equal, and their culture enforces this equality. The only way they can maintain this paradise is through ignorance: They know nothing, and refuse to know anything, about the world outside of their valley. When Arzu and Tao escape from the Mongol empire, they corrupt this paradise by bringing, and engendering, a thirst for knowledge.

Tao, a Mandarin, starts a school in which the younger generation of the valley ask and investigate questions about their world. One example is about the Moon. Is the Moon far away and large, or is it near and small? Chinese legend says the latter, and the people of the Valley neither know or care. But Tao’s top student uses a homemade ruler (something the people did not have) to measure the full moon’s diameter at arm’s length, then climbed a mountain to measure it again. Since the two measurements were the same, that must mean that the Moon is far away. It wasn’t just the knowledge that was disruptive but the way of getting it. It was strictly forbidden to climb the mountains around the valley.

This new knowledge, and other scientific and engineering innovations that Tao’s students generate, is disruptive enough that the people ask Tao and Arzu to leave. Science can make a person, or a society, uncomfortable.

The author set this novel in a valley right at the base of the Altai Mountains. Of course, this valley does not actually exist. But every scientist who has studied human evolution will recognize these mountains as one of the last strongholds of the Denisovan people, close relatives of the Neanderthals. In fact, the cave they are named after, Denisova, is in these mountains. Like the Neanderthals, the Denisovans became extinct thousands of years before this novel takes place, a fact the author sweeps aside. Arzu actually meets the last Denisovans. This is also disruptive to the Valley people, although it turns out that the Denisovans save them from Mongol invaders.

I recommend The Princess of Kashgar to you as a historical romance that celebrates the joy of scientific discovery.

The Princess of Kashgar: A Historical Romance about a Neglected People

Historical romances are often set in exotic locations, but not too exotic. One group of people that gets overlooked in fiction, and non-fiction, in the English-speaking world is the Uyghurs of central Asia. Central Asia itself, a land of dusty hills and sheep, gets overlooked except in fiction about Marco Polo. And right now the Uyghurs desperately need our attention and respect. They live primarily in the extreme northwest of China, where the Chinese government is trying to force them to abandon their culture and assimilate into the dominant Han culture. About a decade ago, they were in the news because China had begun re-education camps to this end.

But Stan Rice’s novel The Princess of Kashgar takes place within this neglected Asian culture.

This is the author’s summary of the novel from the Amazon website:

“Arzu is a beautiful young artist from a Uyghur village near Kashgar, on the Silk Road. She is accustomed to being admired, especially by Muhemmet, who leads a revolt against the ruling Mongol Empire. The Mongol warriors kidnap Arzu, planning to take her to Xanadu for Kublai Khan. But she and her mandarin lover Tao escape to a secret paradise in the Altai Mountains, the Valley of the Peach Blossoms. They unintentionally corrupt this paradise. Expelled, they go to Xanadu, where Arzu becomes not only Kublai’s favorite woman but also his close confidante. Only Arzu can keep the Mongols from destroying Kashgar. The Khan then wants Arzu to go back to Kashgar and assassinate Muhemmet. Still unsure if she wishes to join Muhemmet’s rebellion or obey the Khan, she finds Muhemmet and takes a dagger with her into his bedroom. Her assassination attempt fails, and the Mongols slaughter her people. When the Khan dies, Arzu and Tao flee back to the mountain paradise that may or may not accept them.”

 

 

The author has taken on a very difficult literary trope: a paradise hidden in the mountains of Asia. It is almost a cliché, which sounds like the Shangri-La of James Hilton’s Lost Horizon. The Shangri-La trope is itself enough reason for some people to put down the novel without even looking at it. But wait. It all depends on how the author handles it. Hilton’s novel was not actually about the people living in Shangri-La; it was about the Europeans who fly into it in an airplane and meet a wise old man, who turns out to himself be European. The native Asian people themselves play no part in Hilton’s novel except they raise the food and provide sex. Hilton’s Lost Horizon therefore falls into the same racist category as H. Rider Haggard’s She and William Henry Hudson’s Green Mansions: a true lost paradise, whether in Hudson’s South America or Haggard’s Africa or Hilton’s Himalayas, must have begun as an outpost of white civilization. It is time for this racist trope to end. The author of Princess of Kashgar has given us an indigenous Asian paradise, based upon Chinese legend.

The novel The Princess of Kashgar has filled an overlooked spot in the map of historical romance.

Meet Me in Strasbourg, Romance Novel from which You Must Confront Important Issues

In case you think that serious issues are the very thing that you are trying to get away from when you read fiction, particularly a romance, Meet Me in Strasbourg by Stan Rice might convince you otherwise. But if you like to avoid serious issues, you probably would not be reading this blog.

Two of the issues are hunger and medical debt, both of which are major crises in American life.

Other important issues involve race and ethnicity. Even romance writers feel obligated to throw in some racial diversity, but it is seldom related to the plot. Tony is Native American, and Aimée is Jewish. Tony and Aimée do indeed find one another in Strasbourg, leading to a happy ending.

But a couple of things, related to ethnicity, remain unresolved, in this novel as in life.

First, although Native Americans such as myself are a nearly invisible minority in America, we are completely unknown in France. I have to explain over and over to my new acquaintances that I am partie du tribu amerindien Cherokee, qui habite en Amerique. The French have stereotypes of Native Americans that resemble those of white Americans in the 1950s. Americans don’t like to think about Natives, because they feel guilty; but in France, Native Americans are still a humorous stereotype.

And while Hitler and La Seconde Guerre Mondiale are long past, there still are some secret Nazis in Strasbourg, maybe even more than in America. They kick over tombstones and spray-paint synagogues. At least they don’t shoot anyone.

I think the readers of this blog would enjoy Meet Me in Strasbourg by Stan Rice. Just don’t expect it to be escapism.

 

The Ecology of Fiction Publication, part two: Publicity

As I described in the previous essay in the series Ecology of Fiction Publication, launching my fiction will be like a tree or a bush blooming or producing seeds. Customers will buy the books only if they notice them. The tree or bush has to attract animal pollinators or dispersers. Those that rely on wind pollination and dispersal do not have this problem; nothing can attract the wind.

I have a good problem. I have about two dozen fiction books to publish. If I publish one at a time on Kindle, I would have to allow more years than I have remaining in my life to finish them. But if I publish them in cohorts, that is, a group of books at more or less the same time (say, in the same month), then I can finish before I die. I think. But I should not have each cohort of books be randomly chosen from my works.

In nature, a tree can produce a bunch of flowers early, then another bunch of flowers later. One common pattern is that the trees start releasing their pollen first from male parts, then start receiving pollen later on female surfaces. That is, the temporal pattern is not random, but is functionally defined. It might be male vs. female trees, as in cottonwood; or male vs. female parts of a flower, as in maples. There is not enough room in this essay to explain this pattern.

Here are the categories by which I will release and publicize my fiction:

The first group would be the fiction that would be hard for me to publish commercially. I have a good novel called Meet Me In Strasbourg. I think anyone would like to read it, but it would have to be categorized, by a publisher or a librarian, as young adult intellectual romance. This is something I do not have the professional credentials for. If any agent or publisher would read even a little of it, they would like it. But they do not have time, or else their AI bots will not forward it to them. Another good book I wrote is The Princess of Kashgar which would be classified as intellectual historical romance. Once again, I have no credentials here.

But when readers search on Amazon, they do not look just for authors who have credentials in YA or historical fiction. I think I might sell some of these books, of which I have about six.

The second group would be fiction collections. I have six of these. Agents generally do not accept, nor do publishers release, story collections. Which is strange because readers like them. Well, they can find them on Kindle.

The third group would be novels, and sets of novels, that have good commercial promise. I have a bunch of these. I will hold off on these for a little while. If my first one or two groups have reasonably good sales, I can use this to get the attention of agents and publishers for this third group of books. Publishers generally do not like to publish something that has already been on Kindle. But this third group might be successful with commercial publishers if groups one and two have earned me enough money that publishers and agents might want some of it.

The fourth group is my poetry. Poetry hardly ever sells very well. And I do not have poetry credentials. I have good poetry, but Kindle is my only option for it.

A fifth group is my bad stuff. Yes, I admit I have written some. And it will just stay on my computer.

As you can see, I have a plan, and I got it from thinking about what the trees do to get their seeds dispersed out into the world. They have evolutionary fitness. Maybe I can too.

There is more, which follows in later essays.

Meet Me in Strasbourg: A Romance Novel from Which You Can Learn a Lot about Music

I gave the background of this novel in an earlier blog post.

To many people, music is just a pleasant background noise. Occasionally a good tune will stick in a person’s mind. But in this novel, Meet Me in Strasbourg, Tony’s experiences will show you how the more you know about music, the more meaningful it becomes, until it encapsulates your life. Examples include:

• The novel is centered around Die Winterreise, a song cycle by Franz Schubert which, like other Schubert song cycles, is about a lovelorn wanderer mourning the rejection of his love. Die Winterreise begins with the wanderer going to his love’s house to bid farewell to it. Then he sings about one thing after another that reminds him of how miserable he is. At the end, he gives up and joins with a penniless organ-grinder (Der Leiermann) on the street. Only Schubert’s astonishing music can rescue this poetry from utter depression. As the principal characters Tony and Aimée develop their friendship and love, their direction is certainly not that of Schubert’s wanderer. They swear that there will be no Leiermann for them! Then circumstances beyond their control intervene and crash their comfortable love.
• Tony composes band music, just good enough to perform. Having composed wind ensemble music myself, rather indifferently, I can testify that it is a very difficult task.
• Tony plays the recorder, and this music plays an essential role in bringing him and Aimée together.
• In a concert, the band plays an arrangement of the medieval hymn Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence, which has (as many of you can attest) an almost magical effect upon the mind. Its climax verse is “And the powers of Hell shall vanish as the darkness fades away.” Is this really true? The stirring music forces the question upon the minds of Tony and Aimée. I will write about this in my other blog, the one devoted to religion.

One could almost believe that, in Meet Me in Strasbourg, by Stan Rice, music is not a background but a character.

Meet Me In Strasbourg: a Romance Novel from which You Can Learn a Lot of Science

You would not be reading this blog if you were not interested in science. So you probably don’t read very many romance novels. I do not; but Meet Me in Strasbourg, a novel by Stan Rice is an exception. I summarized it in an earlier essay.

 

There was a prominent scientist who loved romance novels with happy endings. That scientist was Charles Darwin. Maybe he intended the novels as escapism from the heavy issues involved with his theory of evolution, and the social unrest it caused.

But Meet Me in Strasbourg is a novel that presents many scientific concepts, not as escapism but as part of the plot and character development. These are not concepts from science class, but from the direct experiences of life. Examples include:

• All perception is illusion. The brain knows nothing except what the sensory organs tell it, and all of those sensations consist of nerve impulses. It is the brain that sorts them out into sight, hearing, taste, etc. and makes sense out of them. If the brain does this incorrectly, we call them delusions.
• There is a lot about evolution in this novel, which is why I am telling you about it in this blog. This is especially true of sexual selection, Darwin’s “other theory” of 1871. Why do we find symmetrical faces beautiful? Because they indicate a person’s health and potential fitness as a mate. Is “falling in love” just craziness? Tony’s no-nonsense friend Roald explains that if falling in love—a universal experience—were just crazy, natural selection would have gotten rid of it. But falling in love promotes sexual selection. One teacher even explained to Tony why he should want Aimée to be as beautiful as possible, even though she does not need to be, since she is already engaged to Tony. You can even find out about evolution—It’s what’s for dinner. As Tony explains to his kid sister, of course you don’t like broccoli; many vegetables taste bad because they don’t want you to eat them. But it turns out the truth is a little more complicated than this.
• You can also learn about the mathematics of probability. When Aimée vanishes and goes to France, Tony decides he is going to go there and find her. Roald, the no-nonsense friend I told you about earlier, explains that the odds of him finding Aimée would be one in a million. Of course, Tony tries it anyway.
• You can learn a surprising amount about DNA, chlorophyll, hummingbirds, stellar evolution, facial symmetry, the bacteria of the human body, and nutrition in this novel. You can even learn about how the soil holds water—explained to you by a janitor.
• One of Aimée’s creative writing class stories is about green flatworms. It turns out that flatworms on the beaches of the north coast of France are one of the best examples of symbiosis: photosynthetic algae live inside of the flatworms and make food for them, in exchange for eating the worm’s waste products.

Read Meet Me in Strasbourg, by Stan Rice. You might be surprised at how much fun the intellectual life, especially science, can be.