In the final parts of Kohn's look at America as nascent nation, he concentrates on major matters for nationhood. Things like education, language and literature. Neatly summed up, it comes down to the fact that there were many people like Noah Webster.
Webster believed that America's best bet was to strike out anew - to create its own language (to Webster, curiously, American English was enough), education system, and literature. When a proponent of something accurately predicts the state of a whole language for the next century, it's fair to say that he can be agreed with.
But, people like Webster faced plenty of opposition from conservative corners in the early years of the union and gradually those who were still concerned about Europe entered the fray. The first decades of the nineteenth century were host to Napoleon and his conquests after all. Kohn mentions nothing about an American fear that they would be next, rather that Americans bristled at the idea of Europe coming under one power, but I imagine there was a mix of the two sentiments at work.
Kohn closes the chapter with further mention of Jefferson and his singular belief in non-denominational agrarian societies. On the former of these two aspects, Kohn gives some attention to where religion stood in early US policy.
This attention is enough to turn up a 1796 treaty between the US and Tripoli that included the statement: "As the United States is not in any sense founded on the Christian religion" (312). Kohn is quick to note that this treaty was ratified by the senate without controversy.
Ultimately, though, as Kohn reminds us all, it was the idea of America - this new found land where a person's name or status had no meaning, and where there was no precedent for European governance - that drew people together. And throughout its early years, this is what people believed in, fought for, and kept ever at the fore of their minds.
Thus ends Kohn's study of newborn nationhood. Up next appears to be a look at how folklore helped old countries to find a new sense of national identity. It's a bit of a strange set up, the sequence of chapters being vaguely chronological, but I appreciate the variety that it offers. The geographical jumps that Kohn makes keep things relatively fresh.
Off-the-cuff writings about, and sometimes reviews of, books and video games from a nerd's boxes of backlog. Warning: this is not a spoiler-free blog!
Friday, January 31, 2014
The climb ahead looks more perilous yet
I'm all for platforming. And time limits are okay, too. But if it wasn't for the shortcut that you can open up in the Ironclad Turret, I do not think that I'd be able to get up to the boss in time to beat it and get back to the Observatory - even if the game automatically teleports you back there once you exit the boss chamber.
Having to time jumps and watch for chances to hookshot onto moving targets is too much like the last area or two of a 3D Legend of Zelda game. But the Ironclad Turret is just tower number seven of thirteen. And I haven't spoiled anything major for myself, but I know that the game has something of second half beyond the towers, too.
Though, more than likely this platforming is just a matter of the tower's theme. Based on what's inside, the Ironclad Turret is very likely a weapons factory of one sort or another. I'm not sure what all of the press mechanisms jabbing into the walls have to do with weapons manufacture, but still.
At any rate, Pandora's Tower's challenge continues to escalate. Which is kind of fitting, what with all the towers involved.
Having to time jumps and watch for chances to hookshot onto moving targets is too much like the last area or two of a 3D Legend of Zelda game. But the Ironclad Turret is just tower number seven of thirteen. And I haven't spoiled anything major for myself, but I know that the game has something of second half beyond the towers, too.
Though, more than likely this platforming is just a matter of the tower's theme. Based on what's inside, the Ironclad Turret is very likely a weapons factory of one sort or another. I'm not sure what all of the press mechanisms jabbing into the walls have to do with weapons manufacture, but still.
At any rate, Pandora's Tower's challenge continues to escalate. Which is kind of fitting, what with all the towers involved.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
A truly omniscient narrator
The end of part four of River of Stars opens a gash in the tale's chronology. All of the chapter is about the climax of Ren's plan to help bring Kitai from the brink of destruction, but parts of it are told with the knowledge that Ren's accomplice, Kang Junwen, retells of that night in his old age.
When it comes to narrators, there's limited, omniscient, and Kay's choice here.
Taking the perspective of a character to reflect on events long past rather than just to report them is something I've never come across before. It's a technique that, in a genre where the narrator is usually just taken for granted as some all-knowing storyteller, calls a lot of attention to the figure who wrote these words, who's telling this story.
Being confronted with this storytelling style is enough to make me consider the narrator more of a "speaker" in the poetic sense. "Speaker" being the term in poetic theory for the entity between a poet and the words that he or she writes.
As per the break with linear chronology that Kang's reminisces make, I take it as a hint that there will be a considerable timeskip at the start of part five.
And, more generally, I get the feeling that the novel will end somewhere in between Kitai's full revival and the complete extinguishing of them from the memory of history. As I head into the book's last part, I expect it will end with things looking up but not yet getting there.
When it comes to narrators, there's limited, omniscient, and Kay's choice here.
Taking the perspective of a character to reflect on events long past rather than just to report them is something I've never come across before. It's a technique that, in a genre where the narrator is usually just taken for granted as some all-knowing storyteller, calls a lot of attention to the figure who wrote these words, who's telling this story.
Being confronted with this storytelling style is enough to make me consider the narrator more of a "speaker" in the poetic sense. "Speaker" being the term in poetic theory for the entity between a poet and the words that he or she writes.
As per the break with linear chronology that Kang's reminisces make, I take it as a hint that there will be a considerable timeskip at the start of part five.
And, more generally, I get the feeling that the novel will end somewhere in between Kitai's full revival and the complete extinguishing of them from the memory of history. As I head into the book's last part, I expect it will end with things looking up but not yet getting there.
A fyggy twist (or two) (spoilers below)
Like a character in an anime, at the moment of truth, when the meaning of friendship is revealed, I would be the one wiping my nose and eyes on my sleeve, weeping a waterfall of tears. Though, as I was sitting on the bus while playing Dragon Quest IX, I held all that back. Because weeping in public over a video game might draw more than weirded out stares.
At first, it seemed clear cut, this latest leg of the fygg quest. But, as it turns out things just aren't what they seem.
Marion of Bloomingdale is dead. The fygg wasn't eaten, but somehow absorbed by her doll and the only friend she had in her short, illness-ridden life. Of course, being a divine fruit, the absorption brought the doll to life. So, as her only true friend, Marion's dying wish was to have her doll (Marionette) live on as her so that she could make all of the friends that the real Marion never had a chance to.
Once again, the game has taken a surprising turn. A turn that's got me thinking.
If there are sidequests that are locked off until level 40, and these quests feel like they'll be second of a sequence of three, then just how long is this game going to be? Will it be the rare RPG where the level limit is 100 and you end up closer to that than you might like just through getting to the final boss?
At first, it seemed clear cut, this latest leg of the fygg quest. But, as it turns out things just aren't what they seem.
Marion of Bloomingdale is dead. The fygg wasn't eaten, but somehow absorbed by her doll and the only friend she had in her short, illness-ridden life. Of course, being a divine fruit, the absorption brought the doll to life. So, as her only true friend, Marion's dying wish was to have her doll (Marionette) live on as her so that she could make all of the friends that the real Marion never had a chance to.
Once again, the game has taken a surprising turn. A turn that's got me thinking.
If there are sidequests that are locked off until level 40, and these quests feel like they'll be second of a sequence of three, then just how long is this game going to be? Will it be the rare RPG where the level limit is 100 and you end up closer to that than you might like just through getting to the final boss?
Kohn's concentration on America
Although he doesn't state it outright, the focus of Kohn's Chapter VI in The Idea of Nationalism is to study a nation as it is made into such. The focus of this study? None other than those United States.
One of the things that Kohn notes is the fundamental nature of the U.S.'s Constitution. Interestingly, he writes that because it is so essential to U.S. nationalism, the Constitution could never be changed (289). He doesn't say anything about amending it, but changing it, at least in Kohn's mind, would be on par with altering a law of nature. Were time travel available, it would be interesting, though potentially catastrophic, to see what changes in the original would cause to happen in the present.
What Kohn's point comes down to, though, is that the U.S. didn't benefit as a nation from its Revolution. After the dust had settled each state was still parochial and different enough from the rest to be distrustful of them. The sense that I'm left with in the middle of this chapter is that two things nonetheless brought those colonists together.
One was their mutual hatred of Europe and the styles of government for which it stood: aristocracy, hierarchy, monarchical tyranny. The other was that they could all agree that they distrusted Europe more than each other and were able to band together to one-up the old country.
The road to this inference was littered with notable quotes. Like this one from English economist Josiah Tucker (on the impossibility of a union): "...[the Americans] will have no centre of union and no common interests. They never can be united into one compact empire under any species of government whatever; a disunited people till the end of time" (283).
Or from Thomas Jefferson (on the corruption of Europe): "I think we shall be virtuous as long as agriculture is our principal object, which will be the case, while there remain vacant lands in any part of America. When we get piled upon one another in large cities, as in Europe, we shall become corrupt as in Europe and go to eating one another as they do there" (300).
One of the things that Kohn notes is the fundamental nature of the U.S.'s Constitution. Interestingly, he writes that because it is so essential to U.S. nationalism, the Constitution could never be changed (289). He doesn't say anything about amending it, but changing it, at least in Kohn's mind, would be on par with altering a law of nature. Were time travel available, it would be interesting, though potentially catastrophic, to see what changes in the original would cause to happen in the present.
What Kohn's point comes down to, though, is that the U.S. didn't benefit as a nation from its Revolution. After the dust had settled each state was still parochial and different enough from the rest to be distrustful of them. The sense that I'm left with in the middle of this chapter is that two things nonetheless brought those colonists together.
One was their mutual hatred of Europe and the styles of government for which it stood: aristocracy, hierarchy, monarchical tyranny. The other was that they could all agree that they distrusted Europe more than each other and were able to band together to one-up the old country.
The road to this inference was littered with notable quotes. Like this one from English economist Josiah Tucker (on the impossibility of a union): "...[the Americans] will have no centre of union and no common interests. They never can be united into one compact empire under any species of government whatever; a disunited people till the end of time" (283).
Or from Thomas Jefferson (on the corruption of Europe): "I think we shall be virtuous as long as agriculture is our principal object, which will be the case, while there remain vacant lands in any part of America. When we get piled upon one another in large cities, as in Europe, we shall become corrupt as in Europe and go to eating one another as they do there" (300).
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Servant beasts stay downstairs
Well, if it wasn't already plain to see, an old coaxial input tube TV just isn't good enough for the Wii. Pandora's Tower works on it - you can see Aeron and Elena and the monsters - but without the sharpness of even a VGA-input tube TV, the graphics are just too muddy.
Nonetheless, waiting for me back in this game was a strange situation. It's probably something you could attribute to the apparently random nature of enemy layouts in the game's dungeons. Certain rooms are bound to have enemies, but just which ones are in there varies.
Anyway, the situation.
I was part way through Ironclad Turret when I last left off. I climbed higher into it during this session, and found Elena's curse defense gauge quickly draining. But not a single servant beast was anywhere to be found.
There were nothing but these two-legged mound beasts and these lizards that stick to walls and fire energy projectiles at you. Both of which give either items or cash. But not an ounce of beast flesh. This went on for a good twenty minutes of tower exploration.
Eventually, by the time the gauge was down to a quarter, I happened to activate an elevator from the third floor to the first and went down. What should be waiting for me at the bottom but two armoured servant beasts, each with a weight on a chain for a hand.
Needless to say, by the time I managed to off them both within the foyer-sized room into which I was dropped, the curse gauge was nearly empty. It was, in fact, to the point where Elena had slithered down to the Observatory's basement.
Now, maybe it's just part of her animation when she reaches this point of her transformation, but she licked her lips after the first bite of flesh this time. She licked her lips.
Whether this change in her attitude towards these chunks of raw flesh I keep bringing is because of how far the curse had gotten or because I broke a chain and inched forward in the game is hard to tell.
Whatever the case, my point is this. Why were those servant beasts so hard to find? I was exploring during what looked like an in-game afternoon. So were they away at tea, or what?
Nonetheless, waiting for me back in this game was a strange situation. It's probably something you could attribute to the apparently random nature of enemy layouts in the game's dungeons. Certain rooms are bound to have enemies, but just which ones are in there varies.
Anyway, the situation.
I was part way through Ironclad Turret when I last left off. I climbed higher into it during this session, and found Elena's curse defense gauge quickly draining. But not a single servant beast was anywhere to be found.
There were nothing but these two-legged mound beasts and these lizards that stick to walls and fire energy projectiles at you. Both of which give either items or cash. But not an ounce of beast flesh. This went on for a good twenty minutes of tower exploration.
Eventually, by the time the gauge was down to a quarter, I happened to activate an elevator from the third floor to the first and went down. What should be waiting for me at the bottom but two armoured servant beasts, each with a weight on a chain for a hand.
Needless to say, by the time I managed to off them both within the foyer-sized room into which I was dropped, the curse gauge was nearly empty. It was, in fact, to the point where Elena had slithered down to the Observatory's basement.
Now, maybe it's just part of her animation when she reaches this point of her transformation, but she licked her lips after the first bite of flesh this time. She licked her lips.
Whether this change in her attitude towards these chunks of raw flesh I keep bringing is because of how far the curse had gotten or because I broke a chain and inched forward in the game is hard to tell.
Whatever the case, my point is this. Why were those servant beasts so hard to find? I was exploring during what looked like an in-game afternoon. So were they away at tea, or what?
Reconsidering Lin Shan
Throughout my reading of River of Stars I've been quietly bothered by the character of Lin Shan. At this late point in the book (I've just finished chapter XXIII) I think I know why.
Ren Daiyan is your typical fantasy protagonist with a little bit more. He's imagined being a warrior since youth, he carries with him a strong sense of purpose, and we see him learn how to achieve this purpose as he gets older. Nonetheless, the difference between him and the kind of hero you get in the cheesiest of fantasy stories is that we see him develop very clearly. We see him and his purpose run headlong into the political and social structures of the world. What's more, we also see him flex his intelligence as he manoeuvres around these structures. Where he can.
Shan, on the other hand, is not really your typical female protagonist. She's much more empowered than women tend to be in fantasy. Yet, just like Ren, she's also hemmed in by the world around her. However, what marks the biggest difference between these two characters' arcs is that Shan appears to grow relatively little over the course of the story.
Shan changes along with Ren, sure. But, her changes seem to be less from learning about what to do next than they are from simply realizing or intuiting what to do next. Kay very clearly uses this quality of hers to show her intelligence, but it makes for a flat arc.
Aside from growing up and changing from a girl to a woman, from a virgin to a wife, at her core Shan changes very little. It's as if the character she will be at the end of the book is something that she pulls from within herself rather than something that she constructs from herself as Ren does.
Now, maybe I find this difference in character arc jarring because I'm a man. As such, I'm not privy to the way women's minds work. Or maybe, again, for the same reason, stories of construction rather than of intuition resonate more strongly with me.
Whatever the underlying reason for my own personal opinion, that opinion remains. Shan is a fine character, but because she seems to come pre-packaged as a strong female character that strength is less satisfying than the development we see in Ren's arc. After all, as the story progresses we realize that Ren has carefully planned his rise to military prominence and watch as he adapts to being in love with Shan and (I imagine, though it's not been made completely clear yet) managing a counter-attack on the Altai.
Shan, however, just appears to be along for the ride that her world provides - in spite of her intelligence and wit.
Ren Daiyan is your typical fantasy protagonist with a little bit more. He's imagined being a warrior since youth, he carries with him a strong sense of purpose, and we see him learn how to achieve this purpose as he gets older. Nonetheless, the difference between him and the kind of hero you get in the cheesiest of fantasy stories is that we see him develop very clearly. We see him and his purpose run headlong into the political and social structures of the world. What's more, we also see him flex his intelligence as he manoeuvres around these structures. Where he can.
Shan, on the other hand, is not really your typical female protagonist. She's much more empowered than women tend to be in fantasy. Yet, just like Ren, she's also hemmed in by the world around her. However, what marks the biggest difference between these two characters' arcs is that Shan appears to grow relatively little over the course of the story.
Shan changes along with Ren, sure. But, her changes seem to be less from learning about what to do next than they are from simply realizing or intuiting what to do next. Kay very clearly uses this quality of hers to show her intelligence, but it makes for a flat arc.
Aside from growing up and changing from a girl to a woman, from a virgin to a wife, at her core Shan changes very little. It's as if the character she will be at the end of the book is something that she pulls from within herself rather than something that she constructs from herself as Ren does.
Now, maybe I find this difference in character arc jarring because I'm a man. As such, I'm not privy to the way women's minds work. Or maybe, again, for the same reason, stories of construction rather than of intuition resonate more strongly with me.
Whatever the underlying reason for my own personal opinion, that opinion remains. Shan is a fine character, but because she seems to come pre-packaged as a strong female character that strength is less satisfying than the development we see in Ren's arc. After all, as the story progresses we realize that Ren has carefully planned his rise to military prominence and watch as he adapts to being in love with Shan and (I imagine, though it's not been made completely clear yet) managing a counter-attack on the Altai.
Shan, however, just appears to be along for the ride that her world provides - in spite of her intelligence and wit.
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