Monday, September 30, 2019
Sunday, September 29, 2019
Watch of the Week: Smiths W10
The Smiths W10 was issued to the British Army in the late 60’s and made for general service. Sized at 35mm and housed in a stainless steel case, the W10 features long lugs and a six-notch screw down caseback. It has a classic military matte black dial with Arabic numerals and a broadarrow, signifying that it was property of the crown. With military engravings on the back, the serial number is located at the bottom followed by the year it was produced. In this case, it was made in 1968.
One of the distinctive features of the Smiths W10, is that while nearly all of the watches commissioned by the British came from Switzerland, this was made in England, as denoted by the text at the bottom of the dial. Not only that, the W10 is powered by the Cal. 60466E, a high quality, in-house British movement that features a hacking mechanism and an overcoil hairspring.
While these were made in large quantities, prices of the Smiths W10 have slowly been rising, largely due to its attractive looks and accessible price point.
Saturday, September 28, 2019
The Brook
By: Lord Alfred Tennyson
I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorpes, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
I wind about, and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grayling,
And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak
Above the golden gravel,
And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows.
I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars;
I loiter round my cresses;
And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
Friday, September 27, 2019
Thursday, September 26, 2019
Wednesday, September 25, 2019
Kākāpō Recovery
https://www.doc.govt.nz/kakapo-recovery
Date: 17 September 2019
The youngest chick of the bumper 2018/19 breeding season, Stella-3-B-2019, has today turned 150 days old – the age at which all chicks are deemed to be “juvenile” and officially added to the adult population.
DOC Kākāpō Recovery Science Advisor Dr Andrew Digby says this is an important milestone in the long journey towards kākāpō recovery.
“There are probably more kākāpō alive today than at any time in the last 70 years. Decades of work from many people has gone into achieving this.”
The 2018/19 breeding season was the biggest ever on record after a mast year lead to unprecedented amounts of rimu fruit which is necessary for kākāpō to successfully breed and hatch chicks on the main breeding islands.
A record 71 chicks survived through to juvenile age – far surpassing the previous record of 32
Ngāi Tahu representative to the Kākāpō Recovery Group Tane Davis says the success of this season has come from a huge joint commitment by all those involved.
“Utilising technology, local and international experts along with having the ability to predict high mast for rimu seed and fruit has led to this outstanding achievement.
“More kākāpō means finding more pest free habitat – this will be the next challenge, but one day being in a position to return kākāpō to their wahi kainga, places like Rakiura, is the ultimate goal.”
The breeding season has not been without challenges however, particularly after a wave of aspergillosis – a fungal infection that can be extremely deadly to birds – swept through the population living on predator free Whenua Hou/Codfish Island. Thankfully, thanks to the swift action by a dedicated team from DOC, Auckland Zoo, Massey Wildbase, Dunedin Wildlife Hospital and Wellington Zoo many of the 21 birds affected have so far survived. However, a recent death highlights that the disease remains an ongoing threat.
DOC kākāpō operations manager Deidre Vercoe says the new population milestone is a wonderful reward for everyone involved in this taonga species’ recovery.
“A huge amount of effort from many people around both New Zealand and the world has gone into achieving this remarkable result. This includes National Partner Meridian Energy who funded Smart Eggs and Assisted Breeding, international artificial insemination experts, vets and experts around the country who supported us through incubation, hand rearing and the aspergillosis crisis and hundreds of volunteers who’ve helped to keep both rangers and birds fed on the islands this breeding season.
“The fact that the milestone happened to fall in the middle of Conservation Week gives us another reason to celebrate.”
The next challenge will be looking for new homes for the growing kākāpō population to expand into, Deidre says.
“The kākāpō population has grown 70% in the last 5 years and we’re starting to reach carrying capacity on the two main breeding islands: Anchor and Whenua Hou. We need to find new suitable habitats for the growing population, which is a great problem to have.”
Tuesday, September 24, 2019
The Mossflow
水滸傳
https://www.scottishcorpus.ac.uk/document/?documentid=1628
THE MOSSFLOW
bi Shi Nai’an
i the recension o Jin Shengtan
owreset frae the Chinese bi
Brian Holton
PROLOGUE
WHAUR
Paip Zhang gies mass an mait agin the pest
AN
Marischal Hong gangs agley wi bogles
I the mixter-maxter o the Five Dynasties’ sturt an stour
Ae day the sindert clouds ance mair let keek the lift;
Nou hunder year auld gress lies daggit wi new rain
An mensefu leir retours ti the valleys ance again.
Gaucie silk is skailt owre ornar loans an wynds,
Pipe an thairm in ilka haa an chaumer ring;
The haill lythe warld nou taks the play in peace,
An palace orchids, wi nae devaul, dover i the sun.
Aweill, this echt-line stave wis screivit bi Shao Yaofu, whase halie-name wis Maister Puritas. A weill-kent scholar at the court o King Shenzong o the umqhile Hous o Song, he wis vext at the Five Dynasties, yon hinner-en o the Tang times whan there wis naethin but weir an brulyie: in thae days whit wis Jin’s i the mornin wad be Liang’s bi nicht, an richtlie wis it said:
Zhu, Li, Shi, Liu, Guo;
Liang, Tang, Jin, Han, Zhou:
Fifteen kings thegither
Skailt fiftie year o stushie!
Syne whan the birlin o Heiven’s courses wis by, King Taizu wis born i the Destrier Barracks. Whan yon sanct cam intil the warld a reid scaum spreid owre the lift an ferlie oams hung aa nicht ondwynan, for he wis the michtie Fireflaucht Immortal cam doun frae the warld abune. Spunkie an bauld, guid-willie an wyce, there wisna the like o yon Son o Heiven amang aa the langsyne princes an kings afore him. He wis a human stauf for dingin doun the fower hunder wardenries, an his forename wis Zhao! Yon Son o Heiven soupit the warld clean an muckit out the Middlin Plains, his line wis cryit michtie Song, he biggit his capital at Meicklebrig, an heidmaist o aa the kings an princes, he steidit the kinrik for fower hunder year. Yon’s hou Maister Puritas spak o him wi sic respeck, sayin “Ae day the sindert clouds let keek the lift”, acause for ornar fairmin chiels it wis juist like gettin a glisk o the sun again.
In thae days there wis a hermit hecht Chen Tuan bydin on the Wastlin Tap o Mount Glore: he wis a kennin an gracie sowl at bi glamourie cud guide the wind an wather. Ae day whan he wis striddlin his cuddie doun the brae ti the Gloresheddae Road he heard an outlan bodie sayin “Richt nou in the Eastren Capital Chai Shizong hes reteirit an Gaird-Marischal Zhao hes taen the throne”.
Whan he heard this, Maister Chen fand sic blytheness in his hairt at he clappit his haun ti his brou an laucht out loud ti he tummelt aff o his cuddie. The bodie speirit him whit for an the Maister tellt him “The warld’ll be weill fettelt nou! It’s juist the mellin o Heiven’s Will abune, Yirth’s Array ablow, an the Greement o Men in atween!”
Frae the Abdication o the gengshen (1) year whan King Taizu first tuik the throne, the warld kept peacefu for seiventeen year. Efterhaun succeedit the Royal Brither Taizong, wha reignit twentie an twa year or Zhenzong cam on, an efter him cam Renzong.
Nou this King Renzong wis the michtie Barefuit Immortal o the warld abune. Whan he wis born here ablow he roared an he grat bi nicht an bi day wi nae rest at aa, ti the Court pit out a placket cryin on fowk ti come an gie the Royal Bairn remeid. This gart the Heivenlie Court tak peitie, sae they sent doun the speirit o the Gloamin Staur i the mak o an auld carl. He steppit forrit, yerkit the placket doun, an said he cud stop the Royal Bairn frae greitin. The sarjants wi the placket led him inti the haa ti hae a hearin i the presence o King Zhenzong. The Son o Heiven decernit at he suid gang intil the benmaist court ti inspeck the Royal Bairn, sae the auld carl gaed richt in, fauldit the Royal Bairn in his airms, souchit a wheen words in his lug - an the Royal Bairn grat nae mair.
Whit wir the words he souchit?
They wir “For policy ye’se hae the Policy Staur, and for weir ye’se hae the Weir Staur.”
Richtsae it wis tae, for the Jade King abune hed sent doun the speirits o thae twa stern frae the Crammasie Haa, aa ti succour an forder an gie heizin ti this Son o Heiven. The Policy Staur wis Chief Justiciar o the Southron Office in Firstenfeus, Lord Collegiar o the Registry Bao Zheng, an the Weir Staur wis him at herried the kinrik o Wester Somir, Earl Marischal Di Qing. Thir twa wyce meinisters cam forth ti ser a king at held his throne forty an twa year an chynged his entitule nine times.
Frae the time o his ascendin the throne i the first year o the entitule Heivenlie Sages on ti the nint year o the same wis a time o peace i the warld whan hairsts wir guid an fowk blythe at their darg, whan whit wis tint wis left lyin on the road an yetts wir niver steikit at nicht - thir nine years is hecht The First Stent. Frae the first year o the entitule Bricht Wey ti the third year o Kinglie Blessins wis nine growthie years tae, an is hecht The Saicont Stent. Frae the fourth year o Kinglie Blessins ti the saicont year o Happie Blessins there wis a by the ornar rowth o corn i the pairks, an thir nine years is hecht The Third Stent. Thrie nines, twentie-seiven year thegither, maks The Thrie-Stentit Age. For smaa fowk thae years wis blythe an cheerie.
Whae thocht owremuckle pleisur wad bring on sorra? I the spring o the third year o Happie Blessins the pest cam spreidin owre the kinrik - frae Besouth the Watter ti the twa capitals, there wisna the ae place whaur fowk wisna smittlt wi this ill: frae ilka stewartrie an sheriffdom cam notandums in, thick as flauchts o snaa.
Aweill, baith in an ayont the Eastren Capital the feck o the lieges wir deein. Chief Justiciar Councillour Bao wi his ain haun gat Letters o General Merciment, an he spent his ain stipend on feesick ti bring the commontie remeid - but hou cud he cure them aa? The pest gaed spreidin on.
The Officiars o Policy an o Weir tuik avisement an forgaithert i the Clepsydra Haa ti wait on the Early Hearin whan they’d come afore the Son o Heiven. On this day, the third o the third month o the third year o Happie Blessins, at thrie meinits efter the fift hour the Son o Heiven muntit the throne i the Purpour Palace, an whan the officiars hed gien in the mornin bethankfu, the Palace Betheral raired out “Whasae hes cause, step forrit nou an propone! Whasae hes nane, rowe up the hingins an reteir!”
Sae it wis at furth o the thrang steppit the Councillour-in Chief Zhao Zhe an the Saicont Secretar Wen Yanbo, wha proponit:
“Afore our een the pest owrerins the capital, an monie’s the lieges at’s fordune thereby. It’s our hummil askin at the King’s Hieness furthshaw his luvin mercie bi the lowsin o felons, the lichtenin o unlaws an the dilutin o the cess, wi mass an mait ti be gien agin this ill dispensation, an remeid sae brocht ti the commontie.”
The Son o Heiven lissent an straucht decretit at the Hanlin Collegiars sud draucht a Dictamen:
item fylit felons o the kinrik ti be assoilyeit, an aa fowk to be exonert o ilka levy an cess;
item ordainit at i the temples o the Forbidden City, Halie Exercises ti be institute ti forfend unchance.
Yet yont aa thocht, that year the pest aye ran on. Whan King Renzong gat ti ken, his regal brou wis troubled, an ance mair he tuik avisement o his officiars. Frae the raw steppit forrit a hie meinister ti gie his proponance in, an the Son o Heiven spied Commissioner o State Fan Zhongyan. He lowtit doun, then he up an spak:
“Afore our een an ill dispensation rins its course, an the lieges are that trampit i the glaur wi’t at, be it nicht or be it day, they canna weill fend for theirsels. Yir Meinister hes this bit notion: gin this unchance is ti be forfendit, the Paip Hereditar micht be summonsed ti the Court incontinent, ti gie the Thrie Hunder an Saxtie Michtie Synoptic Masses - as a petitour ti the Lord Abune he’ll can aiblins sain the fowk o the pest at’s amang them.”
King Renzong, Son o Heiven, ratifeed this proponance, an straucht gied word to the Hanlin Collegiars at a Dictamen be drauchtit. Wi his ain haun he subscryvit it, an giftit forby a spirlie o the Royal Incense. He appointit Hong Xin, the Marischal o the Inbye an Outbye Haas o Supervision, ti be Royal Messager, ti mak ti Dragon-Tiger Brae in Faithlands o Wast the Watter an bid His Halieness Paip Hereditar Zhang come ti the Court incontinent an gie mass an mait agin the pest. Then he gaed ti the Gowden Haa ti kennle the Royal Incense, an wi his ain haun he gied the reid-sealed Dictamen ti Marischal Hong.
Takin the Royal Orders, Marischal Hong gied his fareweills ti the Son o Heiven, an wi the Dictamen on his back an the Royal Incense in his haun he backit his post-horse, led his menyie o sindrie score out o the Eastren Capital, an gaed smairtlie ti Worthieburn County o Faithlands. They wan or lang gaed by ti Faithlands Toun, whaur officiars o hie an laich degree cam out ayont the burgh dykes ti walcome them in. Men wir affhaun sent ti let ken the Abbeymaister an the priests o Sublimitie Abbey on Dragon-Tiger Brae, ti gar them busk theirsels ti get the Dictamen.
Neist day, the officiars aa convoyed the Marischal ti the fuit o Dragon-Tiger Brae, an doun there cam a wheen o priests o Sublimitie Abbey ti see in the reid-sealed Dictamen, wi their bells an drums bangin, their censers sweetlie reikin, their braw canopies aa silk-spraingelt, an their rare musicianers in a raw. They lichtit doun ilkane afore Sublimitie Abbey itsel, an aabodie frae the sanctlie Abbeymaister doun ti the servitors an the novice-callants, wi walcomin afore an convoyin ahint, wan ti the Thriefauld Sublimitie Haa, whaur they bade tak the Dictamen ti the Worshippers’ Tenement.
“Whaur about’s the Paip the nou?” Marischal Hong speirs the Abbeymaister, an the Abbeymaister hummlie tells him: “An it please ye ti ken, Marischal, our Fundator hes for his byname Vacuitranquillitas. Hie-mindit an clean bi naitur, he’s weariet o society an he’s awa ti his sprotten-theikit sheilin on the heid o Dragon-Tiger Brae ti care for his saul-heill an the nourishin o his divinitie - yon’s hou he disna bide here in our Abbey”. “The Son o Heiven hes eenou furthset a Dictamen: whit wey micht A get ti see him?” quo the Marischal, an the Abbeymaister reponit, “Sae please ye, pit the Dictamen by intil the Haa for the meinit. Us puir priests’ll no daur read it. Nou if it’s yir will, Marischal, come awa an tak tea in ma chaumers, an we’ll can think on it mair.”
Sae wi aa reverence the Dictamen wis pit by in the Thriefauld Sublimitie Haa, an they gaed alang wi the officiars ti the chaumers. The Marischal sat hissel doun i the midmaist place an the kitchiefowk set in the tea. Lentren-mait cam on neist, an there wis aa the vivers at land or watter micht supply.
Whan that wis by, ance mair the Marischal speirit the Abbeymaister: “An the Paip’s in his sheilin on the braeheid, whit for can we no sen ti bid him come doun here an read the Dictamen?”
“Sae be the Paip’s on the braeheid” repones the Abbeymaister hummlie, “he’s byornar wyce an skillie. He can munt the mists an sclim the clouds an there’ll be fient the haet o him ti be fund. He’s ill eneuch ti fin even for us puir priests, sae whit wey will we can bid him come dounby?”
Quo the Marischal, “An yon’s the wey o’t, whit wey dae A fin him? This verra meinit the pest’s owrerinnin the capital. A bit officiar like masel’s been sent parteiclar bi the Son o Heiven ti cairry the Royal Dictamen, an wi His Ain Haun he’s traistit me wi the Royal Incense ti come an bid the Paip gie the Thrie Hunder an Saxtie Michtie Synoptic Masses for the fendin o unchance, an sae bring the commontie remeid. Whit wey will A dae it gin it’s aa ti be like this?”
“The Son o Heiven nae dout ettles ti bring the commontie remeid” says the Abbey-maister, “but athout ye’re something upricht an hairt-eident.......Ye’ll need ti bath yirsel, haud yirsel frae flesh an strang drink, an busk yirsel in hodden claes; tak nane o yir menyie, but shouther the Dictamen yir nainsel, kennle the Royal Incense, shank awa up the brae an gie a richt gentie an mensefu-like biddin - an ye dinna, it’ll be a tuim step ye tak, an he’ll be gey an ill ti fin.”
The Marischal lissent an said “Aa the road here frae the capital A’ve etten nocht forby lentren-mait, sae hou wad A no be hairt-eident? But gin sae it’s ti be, A maun e’en dae as ye bid, an up the brae the morn’s morn fell early.”
An wi that ilkane gaed ti their nicht’s rest.
Neist day at the fift hour the priests raise up, poured a perfumit bath, an bade the Marischal get up an wash hissel. Clean buskit in fresh hodden claes an wi strae shuin on his feet he ett his lentren-mait, rowed the Dictamen in yalla silk, shouthert it, an wi a siller censer in his haun he stertit ti kennle the Royal Incense. A wheen priests convoyed him ti the back brae ti airt him on his road, an ance mair the Abbeymaister said “Gin ye’re ti bring the commontie remeid, Marischal, dinna you be takin a back-gangin turn, but haud ye aye forrit wi an eident hairt.”
The Marischal quat the gaitherin, an aa his owrecome as he linkit up the brae wis the blissit name o god. He gaed awa his leelane a while owre twistit tracks, up fankled bankins, clauchterin as he gaed at bushes an brambles aa taiglt an snorled, til whan he’d wan a guid twa-thrie mile owre the braes, bit bi bit his legs begude ti fail, his feet begude ti stound, an he cud gang nae mair.
Niver the word did he speak, tho i his breist he wis switherin. “A’m a Court Officiar o hie degree” he thocht ti hissel, “thick-fauldit wis ma beddin i the capital, an dentie the board A ett aff. Ay, an there’ll be sweirtie intil’t tae - whan did A ever weir sic strae shuin an gae shankin owre sic hill-gaits?.....Fine they ken whaurabout their Paip is, but och, the wearie weys A’ve still ti thole!” An he’d gane nae mair as fifty steps afore he wis hotchin an pechin.
Then a flaff o wind raise up out o a corrie on the braeside, an whan it wis by, on a sudden frae in ahint the pine trees wi a gurl like thunner a muckle white-broued gowden-haired baistie wi bogglin een cam breingin out at him! Marischal Hong fair gat a fleg: he gied the ae skreich an cowpit owre backart. The muckle baist cam on at him, roun an roun wi gurlin an wi gowpin, til it turnt an skelpit aff doun the back bankin an awa. Marischal Hong wis left streikit out at a tree-fuit, that fleyed his thirty-sax teeth wis dirlin thegither an his hairt wis playin dunt-duntie like fifteen buckets in a wal, seiven o them gaun up an echt o them gaun doun. His haill body wis numb like he hed the paralytics, i the houghs he wis like a waurit fechtin-cock, an in his mou wis aye doulanee.
Wi the baistie awa, it tuik the time a cup o tea taks afore he cud staucher ti’s feet, lift the censer, an stert kennlin the Royal Incense: then he wis awa up the brae again, fair set on gettin ti see the Paip.
Ance mair he’d taen nae mair as fifty steps afore he wis sicherin, an he wis peingin: “Bi command o His Majestie A’m pitten here ti get frichts the like o yon!”. An he wis juist new dune sayin it whan anither flaff o wind he felt, an the fowsum reek o’t bladdit aa about him. The Marischal glowert roun an roun, then frae the bamboo-shaw on the braeface there cam a reishlin soun, an a muckle white-spreckled worm the size o a chein o wal-buckets burst ram-stam out at him!
The sicht o this gied the Marischal anither fleg; he flang awa his censer, an wi a roar o “Am killt this time!”, back he cowpit ti the side o a muckle clinty stane. But the worm cam richt up ti the stane an kinkit itsel up in a hott fornent the Marischal, its twae een leamin gowd, the tongue fliskin out o the unco mou o’t, an a fowsum pyzen spirtin i the face o Marischal Hong. It gied him a fleg at wandert his wits an clean dumfounert him. The baist hed a lang look at the Marischal, then snoovit awa doun the brae an wis seen nae mair.
Ance an he cud staucher ti’s feet he says “Guidsakes! A wis near killt wi the fricht o’t!”, an whan he spied he’d hen’s flesh on him the size o dumplins, he stertit in ti miscaa the priests: “It’s owre demmed menseless, makin sic a mock o me! An giein me sic flegs an frichts forby!....An A canna find the Paip on the brae, A’ll awa dounby an there’ll be mair said about it!” Sae he liftit his siller censer, gied a bit redd up ti the Dictamen, his claes an his bunnet, an wis set for up the brae ance mair.
He wis juist liftin his feet whan he heard ahint the pines a wee soun o whisslin comin near. The Marischal lookit an spied a novice callant comin on, striddlin a yalla stot backside foremaist, whisslin on an airn flute an keck-kecklin as he gaed owre the brae. Marischal Hong cried on him “Whaur hae ye come frae? Dae ye ken whae A am?”. The callant niver let dicht, tho, but gaed on wi his wheiplin. Twae-thrie times mair the Marischal speirit at him or the callant gied a rairin lauch, pyntin at him wi the airn flute an sayin “Ye cam here ti fin the Paip, didn’t ye no?” Unco fleyed, the Commander says “Ye’re but a herd-callant, hou gat ye ti ken?” an the callant leuch “A wis waitin on the Paip this mornin an A heard him say ‘The Son o Heiven’s eenou sendin some Marischal Hong bodie wi a reid-sealit Dictamen an Royal Incense ti bring up the brae, an he’ll summonse me ti the Eastren Capital ti gie the Thrie Hunder an Saxtie Michtie Synoptic Masses, an gie mass an mait agin the pest at’s i the kinrik. A’m awa nou ti munt the mists an sclim the clouds an gae.’ A dout he maun be awa bi this, for he isna at the sheilin. Dinna you gang upbye: the’r a byornar amount o worms an wild baists on the braes, an A’m feart they’ll aiblins dae ye ill.”
Ance mair the Marischal speirit him: “Ye wadna be tellin lees nou?” But the callant gied the ae lauch an niver answert back, juist wheiplin on his airn flute as he wan awa owre the braeface.
The Marischal thocht on’t: “Hou wad yon bairn ken aa about it? A dout it’ll be the Paip at commandit him.....Ay, sae it maun be.” An he’d a mind ti haud up the brae ance mair, but he thocht: “A’ve new been sair fleyed, an gey near losst ma life.....leifer doun the brae, A’m thinkin.”
Sae the Marischal tuik his censer, airtit out his auld gait, an skelpit doun the brae. The priest-bodies at cam out ti him bade him in ti sit doun i the Abbeymaister’s chaumers, an the Abbeymaister speirit him: “Did ye see the Paip?”
Quo the Marischal, “A’m a Court Officiar o hie degree: hou cud ye pit me owre sic hillgaits ti dree sic a wearie weird an gey near loss ma life? Firstlins, haufroads up the brae a muckle white-broued baist wi bogglin een cam breingin out an gied uis sic a fleg A tint ma wits; neist, whan A hedna gaen mair as haufroads owre the brae, out o a bamboo-shaw a muckle white-spreckled worm burst ramstam out at uis, kinkit itsel up in a hott, an wadna let uis gang forrit! This is aa you priesties makin a mock o me!”
“Whit wey wad us puir priests daur lichtlie Yir Honour?” quo the Abbeymaister. “It maun hae been Our Fundator preein yir hairt, Marischal, for tho there’s worms an baists eneuch on our braes, they’re no skaithfu at aa!”
“A cud juist gang nae mair” quo the Marischal, “but A wis set for up the brae again for aa that, whan this callant cam out frae in aside the pine wuids, an gaed owre the brae striddlin a yalla stot an whisslin on an airn flute. Sae A speirit him ‘Whaur are ye frae? Ken me?’. Quo he ‘A ken aa about it’, an he tellt me the Paip hed muntit his crane, sclimmed the clouds an awa ti the Eastren Capital this mornin. Sae back A cam.”
“Och, but it’s a shame, Marischal” quo the Abbeymaister, “for ye’ve mischancit! Thon herd-callant wis the Paip hissel!”
“Hou’s he sae ill-faured, then, gin he’s the Paip?” says the Marischal, an the Abbeymaister answert him.
“Our present Paip’s no ti be lichtliet: for aa he’s a bairn, he’s byornar wyce an skillie. He’s a loun at’s aathegither by the common, a sheinin luminance in ilka airt, an his prayers is effeckfu abune aa ither thing. Warldlie fowk cries him Fundator Viapervador”.
“A didna ken the verra Paip” rairs the Marischal, “an me wi een in ma heid! E’en forenenst him A’ve mischancit!”
“Dinna fash, Marischal. Sin the Fundator’s shawin us he’s gane, then bi time ye’ve wan ti the capital he’ll hae feinisht wi aa thae Halie Exercises.” An the Marischal wis fasht nae mair.
The Abbeymaister gart set out a braw denner ti the Marischal, biddin him pit the Reid-sealed Dictamen awa intil a kist o Royal Write an lea it at Sublimitie Abbey, an the Royal Incense wis brunt i the Thriefauld Sublimitie Haa. Meikle wis the lentren-mait set out thon day i the chaumers, wi feastin an wi drink; the soiree gaed on late, then ilkane tuik their nicht’s rest or the day it hed dawed.
The neist day efter brakfaist the Abbeymaister an the priests, alang wi sindrie o the wardens an siclike ither fowk, speirit the Marischal wad he tak a bit turn outowre the braes, an the Marischal wis fair delightit. Wi a wheen o the ither fowk followin ahint them, they quat the chaumers, an led bi a novice they divertit theirsels wi aa the sichts as they daunert about the Abbey. The riches an the braws o the Thriefauld Sublimitie Abbey wad be mair nor tongue micht tell: on the left-haun aisle wis the Nint Heiven Haa, Peerie Purpie Haa, an the Polestaur Haa. On the richt-haun aisle wis Michtie Monad Haa, Thrie Clerks Haa, an the Sainin o Ill Haa.
Ance an they’d seen aa about the biggins they landit at a bit in ahint the richt-haun aisle, an Marischal Hong spied anither biggin ti the Abbey. Cley waas it hed, as reid aa roun as champit chillie peppers, wi twa lang scarlet windaes i the face o’t. The yett wis steikit wi a pintle as lang’s yir airm, crossweys owre it wis clappit a dizzen or mair o the priests’ lang paper bands, an the bands wir owrestampit time an time again wi reid seals. Afore the easins wis hingin a reid-lacquered signbrod, the gowden letters o’t sayin
Dounhadden Demons Haa.
Pyntin at the door, Marischal Hong says, “Whit kin o a haa’s this?”, an the Abbeymaister answert him: “It wis i the time o the Michtie Hous o Tang at the bygane Paip Mysteriopervador lockit an sealed the King o Demons in. For generations it’s been haunit doun frae Paip ti Paip at ilkane wi his ain haun maun eik his band, sae nae son nor oe o theirs micht apen thon door. Byornar fearsome’s the Demon Princes at micht get out. Throu echt-nine generations nou they’ve swure an aith at apen it they winna daur. Yon sneck wis made o the rinnin bress cuisten in a mold - whae kens whit lies inben? Sin the time A cam for Abbeymaister here, mair nor thirty year sinsyne, A’ve kent nocht o’t forby the hearin”.
Marischal Hong gat a shog wi this, but he thocht ti hissel, “A’ll juist try a bit keek at thae demons.” sae ti the Abbeymaister quo he “Juist apen you the door an A’ll see whitlike’s the King o Demons.”
The Abbeymaister tellt him: “ Marischal Hong, we mauna dae it. It’s aye been the threipin an the tellin o bygane Paips: nae man in onie time maun get ti apen it unbidden.”
“Havers!” leuch the Marischal.” Ye’re juist cleckin ferlies ti begowk daicent fowk wi! Ye dae thae places out deliberate, lettin on ye’ve the King o Demons lockit up, an it’s aa ti glaik fowk wi yir warlockrie. Weill, A’ve read aa the Buiks o Leir, an ye’se niver finnd a wey ti lock demons up there, for demons an bogles o their kind an naitur is set ti byde i the Mirk Pit. A’ll juist no hae’t at the’r a King o Demons in yonder! Get it strecht apen for me, an A’ll see whitlike’s the King o Demons!”
https://www.scottishcorpus.ac.uk/document/?documentid=1628
THE MOSSFLOW
bi Shi Nai’an
i the recension o Jin Shengtan
owreset frae the Chinese bi
Brian Holton
PROLOGUE
WHAUR
Paip Zhang gies mass an mait agin the pest
AN
Marischal Hong gangs agley wi bogles
I the mixter-maxter o the Five Dynasties’ sturt an stour
Ae day the sindert clouds ance mair let keek the lift;
Nou hunder year auld gress lies daggit wi new rain
An mensefu leir retours ti the valleys ance again.
Gaucie silk is skailt owre ornar loans an wynds,
Pipe an thairm in ilka haa an chaumer ring;
The haill lythe warld nou taks the play in peace,
An palace orchids, wi nae devaul, dover i the sun.
Aweill, this echt-line stave wis screivit bi Shao Yaofu, whase halie-name wis Maister Puritas. A weill-kent scholar at the court o King Shenzong o the umqhile Hous o Song, he wis vext at the Five Dynasties, yon hinner-en o the Tang times whan there wis naethin but weir an brulyie: in thae days whit wis Jin’s i the mornin wad be Liang’s bi nicht, an richtlie wis it said:
Zhu, Li, Shi, Liu, Guo;
Liang, Tang, Jin, Han, Zhou:
Fifteen kings thegither
Skailt fiftie year o stushie!
Syne whan the birlin o Heiven’s courses wis by, King Taizu wis born i the Destrier Barracks. Whan yon sanct cam intil the warld a reid scaum spreid owre the lift an ferlie oams hung aa nicht ondwynan, for he wis the michtie Fireflaucht Immortal cam doun frae the warld abune. Spunkie an bauld, guid-willie an wyce, there wisna the like o yon Son o Heiven amang aa the langsyne princes an kings afore him. He wis a human stauf for dingin doun the fower hunder wardenries, an his forename wis Zhao! Yon Son o Heiven soupit the warld clean an muckit out the Middlin Plains, his line wis cryit michtie Song, he biggit his capital at Meicklebrig, an heidmaist o aa the kings an princes, he steidit the kinrik for fower hunder year. Yon’s hou Maister Puritas spak o him wi sic respeck, sayin “Ae day the sindert clouds let keek the lift”, acause for ornar fairmin chiels it wis juist like gettin a glisk o the sun again.
In thae days there wis a hermit hecht Chen Tuan bydin on the Wastlin Tap o Mount Glore: he wis a kennin an gracie sowl at bi glamourie cud guide the wind an wather. Ae day whan he wis striddlin his cuddie doun the brae ti the Gloresheddae Road he heard an outlan bodie sayin “Richt nou in the Eastren Capital Chai Shizong hes reteirit an Gaird-Marischal Zhao hes taen the throne”.
Whan he heard this, Maister Chen fand sic blytheness in his hairt at he clappit his haun ti his brou an laucht out loud ti he tummelt aff o his cuddie. The bodie speirit him whit for an the Maister tellt him “The warld’ll be weill fettelt nou! It’s juist the mellin o Heiven’s Will abune, Yirth’s Array ablow, an the Greement o Men in atween!”
Frae the Abdication o the gengshen (1) year whan King Taizu first tuik the throne, the warld kept peacefu for seiventeen year. Efterhaun succeedit the Royal Brither Taizong, wha reignit twentie an twa year or Zhenzong cam on, an efter him cam Renzong.
Nou this King Renzong wis the michtie Barefuit Immortal o the warld abune. Whan he wis born here ablow he roared an he grat bi nicht an bi day wi nae rest at aa, ti the Court pit out a placket cryin on fowk ti come an gie the Royal Bairn remeid. This gart the Heivenlie Court tak peitie, sae they sent doun the speirit o the Gloamin Staur i the mak o an auld carl. He steppit forrit, yerkit the placket doun, an said he cud stop the Royal Bairn frae greitin. The sarjants wi the placket led him inti the haa ti hae a hearin i the presence o King Zhenzong. The Son o Heiven decernit at he suid gang intil the benmaist court ti inspeck the Royal Bairn, sae the auld carl gaed richt in, fauldit the Royal Bairn in his airms, souchit a wheen words in his lug - an the Royal Bairn grat nae mair.
Whit wir the words he souchit?
They wir “For policy ye’se hae the Policy Staur, and for weir ye’se hae the Weir Staur.”
Richtsae it wis tae, for the Jade King abune hed sent doun the speirits o thae twa stern frae the Crammasie Haa, aa ti succour an forder an gie heizin ti this Son o Heiven. The Policy Staur wis Chief Justiciar o the Southron Office in Firstenfeus, Lord Collegiar o the Registry Bao Zheng, an the Weir Staur wis him at herried the kinrik o Wester Somir, Earl Marischal Di Qing. Thir twa wyce meinisters cam forth ti ser a king at held his throne forty an twa year an chynged his entitule nine times.
Frae the time o his ascendin the throne i the first year o the entitule Heivenlie Sages on ti the nint year o the same wis a time o peace i the warld whan hairsts wir guid an fowk blythe at their darg, whan whit wis tint wis left lyin on the road an yetts wir niver steikit at nicht - thir nine years is hecht The First Stent. Frae the first year o the entitule Bricht Wey ti the third year o Kinglie Blessins wis nine growthie years tae, an is hecht The Saicont Stent. Frae the fourth year o Kinglie Blessins ti the saicont year o Happie Blessins there wis a by the ornar rowth o corn i the pairks, an thir nine years is hecht The Third Stent. Thrie nines, twentie-seiven year thegither, maks The Thrie-Stentit Age. For smaa fowk thae years wis blythe an cheerie.
Whae thocht owremuckle pleisur wad bring on sorra? I the spring o the third year o Happie Blessins the pest cam spreidin owre the kinrik - frae Besouth the Watter ti the twa capitals, there wisna the ae place whaur fowk wisna smittlt wi this ill: frae ilka stewartrie an sheriffdom cam notandums in, thick as flauchts o snaa.
Aweill, baith in an ayont the Eastren Capital the feck o the lieges wir deein. Chief Justiciar Councillour Bao wi his ain haun gat Letters o General Merciment, an he spent his ain stipend on feesick ti bring the commontie remeid - but hou cud he cure them aa? The pest gaed spreidin on.
The Officiars o Policy an o Weir tuik avisement an forgaithert i the Clepsydra Haa ti wait on the Early Hearin whan they’d come afore the Son o Heiven. On this day, the third o the third month o the third year o Happie Blessins, at thrie meinits efter the fift hour the Son o Heiven muntit the throne i the Purpour Palace, an whan the officiars hed gien in the mornin bethankfu, the Palace Betheral raired out “Whasae hes cause, step forrit nou an propone! Whasae hes nane, rowe up the hingins an reteir!”
Sae it wis at furth o the thrang steppit the Councillour-in Chief Zhao Zhe an the Saicont Secretar Wen Yanbo, wha proponit:
“Afore our een the pest owrerins the capital, an monie’s the lieges at’s fordune thereby. It’s our hummil askin at the King’s Hieness furthshaw his luvin mercie bi the lowsin o felons, the lichtenin o unlaws an the dilutin o the cess, wi mass an mait ti be gien agin this ill dispensation, an remeid sae brocht ti the commontie.”
The Son o Heiven lissent an straucht decretit at the Hanlin Collegiars sud draucht a Dictamen:
item fylit felons o the kinrik ti be assoilyeit, an aa fowk to be exonert o ilka levy an cess;
item ordainit at i the temples o the Forbidden City, Halie Exercises ti be institute ti forfend unchance.
Yet yont aa thocht, that year the pest aye ran on. Whan King Renzong gat ti ken, his regal brou wis troubled, an ance mair he tuik avisement o his officiars. Frae the raw steppit forrit a hie meinister ti gie his proponance in, an the Son o Heiven spied Commissioner o State Fan Zhongyan. He lowtit doun, then he up an spak:
“Afore our een an ill dispensation rins its course, an the lieges are that trampit i the glaur wi’t at, be it nicht or be it day, they canna weill fend for theirsels. Yir Meinister hes this bit notion: gin this unchance is ti be forfendit, the Paip Hereditar micht be summonsed ti the Court incontinent, ti gie the Thrie Hunder an Saxtie Michtie Synoptic Masses - as a petitour ti the Lord Abune he’ll can aiblins sain the fowk o the pest at’s amang them.”
King Renzong, Son o Heiven, ratifeed this proponance, an straucht gied word to the Hanlin Collegiars at a Dictamen be drauchtit. Wi his ain haun he subscryvit it, an giftit forby a spirlie o the Royal Incense. He appointit Hong Xin, the Marischal o the Inbye an Outbye Haas o Supervision, ti be Royal Messager, ti mak ti Dragon-Tiger Brae in Faithlands o Wast the Watter an bid His Halieness Paip Hereditar Zhang come ti the Court incontinent an gie mass an mait agin the pest. Then he gaed ti the Gowden Haa ti kennle the Royal Incense, an wi his ain haun he gied the reid-sealed Dictamen ti Marischal Hong.
Takin the Royal Orders, Marischal Hong gied his fareweills ti the Son o Heiven, an wi the Dictamen on his back an the Royal Incense in his haun he backit his post-horse, led his menyie o sindrie score out o the Eastren Capital, an gaed smairtlie ti Worthieburn County o Faithlands. They wan or lang gaed by ti Faithlands Toun, whaur officiars o hie an laich degree cam out ayont the burgh dykes ti walcome them in. Men wir affhaun sent ti let ken the Abbeymaister an the priests o Sublimitie Abbey on Dragon-Tiger Brae, ti gar them busk theirsels ti get the Dictamen.
Neist day, the officiars aa convoyed the Marischal ti the fuit o Dragon-Tiger Brae, an doun there cam a wheen o priests o Sublimitie Abbey ti see in the reid-sealed Dictamen, wi their bells an drums bangin, their censers sweetlie reikin, their braw canopies aa silk-spraingelt, an their rare musicianers in a raw. They lichtit doun ilkane afore Sublimitie Abbey itsel, an aabodie frae the sanctlie Abbeymaister doun ti the servitors an the novice-callants, wi walcomin afore an convoyin ahint, wan ti the Thriefauld Sublimitie Haa, whaur they bade tak the Dictamen ti the Worshippers’ Tenement.
“Whaur about’s the Paip the nou?” Marischal Hong speirs the Abbeymaister, an the Abbeymaister hummlie tells him: “An it please ye ti ken, Marischal, our Fundator hes for his byname Vacuitranquillitas. Hie-mindit an clean bi naitur, he’s weariet o society an he’s awa ti his sprotten-theikit sheilin on the heid o Dragon-Tiger Brae ti care for his saul-heill an the nourishin o his divinitie - yon’s hou he disna bide here in our Abbey”. “The Son o Heiven hes eenou furthset a Dictamen: whit wey micht A get ti see him?” quo the Marischal, an the Abbeymaister reponit, “Sae please ye, pit the Dictamen by intil the Haa for the meinit. Us puir priests’ll no daur read it. Nou if it’s yir will, Marischal, come awa an tak tea in ma chaumers, an we’ll can think on it mair.”
Sae wi aa reverence the Dictamen wis pit by in the Thriefauld Sublimitie Haa, an they gaed alang wi the officiars ti the chaumers. The Marischal sat hissel doun i the midmaist place an the kitchiefowk set in the tea. Lentren-mait cam on neist, an there wis aa the vivers at land or watter micht supply.
Whan that wis by, ance mair the Marischal speirit the Abbeymaister: “An the Paip’s in his sheilin on the braeheid, whit for can we no sen ti bid him come doun here an read the Dictamen?”
“Sae be the Paip’s on the braeheid” repones the Abbeymaister hummlie, “he’s byornar wyce an skillie. He can munt the mists an sclim the clouds an there’ll be fient the haet o him ti be fund. He’s ill eneuch ti fin even for us puir priests, sae whit wey will we can bid him come dounby?”
Quo the Marischal, “An yon’s the wey o’t, whit wey dae A fin him? This verra meinit the pest’s owrerinnin the capital. A bit officiar like masel’s been sent parteiclar bi the Son o Heiven ti cairry the Royal Dictamen, an wi His Ain Haun he’s traistit me wi the Royal Incense ti come an bid the Paip gie the Thrie Hunder an Saxtie Michtie Synoptic Masses for the fendin o unchance, an sae bring the commontie remeid. Whit wey will A dae it gin it’s aa ti be like this?”
“The Son o Heiven nae dout ettles ti bring the commontie remeid” says the Abbey-maister, “but athout ye’re something upricht an hairt-eident.......Ye’ll need ti bath yirsel, haud yirsel frae flesh an strang drink, an busk yirsel in hodden claes; tak nane o yir menyie, but shouther the Dictamen yir nainsel, kennle the Royal Incense, shank awa up the brae an gie a richt gentie an mensefu-like biddin - an ye dinna, it’ll be a tuim step ye tak, an he’ll be gey an ill ti fin.”
The Marischal lissent an said “Aa the road here frae the capital A’ve etten nocht forby lentren-mait, sae hou wad A no be hairt-eident? But gin sae it’s ti be, A maun e’en dae as ye bid, an up the brae the morn’s morn fell early.”
An wi that ilkane gaed ti their nicht’s rest.
Neist day at the fift hour the priests raise up, poured a perfumit bath, an bade the Marischal get up an wash hissel. Clean buskit in fresh hodden claes an wi strae shuin on his feet he ett his lentren-mait, rowed the Dictamen in yalla silk, shouthert it, an wi a siller censer in his haun he stertit ti kennle the Royal Incense. A wheen priests convoyed him ti the back brae ti airt him on his road, an ance mair the Abbeymaister said “Gin ye’re ti bring the commontie remeid, Marischal, dinna you be takin a back-gangin turn, but haud ye aye forrit wi an eident hairt.”
The Marischal quat the gaitherin, an aa his owrecome as he linkit up the brae wis the blissit name o god. He gaed awa his leelane a while owre twistit tracks, up fankled bankins, clauchterin as he gaed at bushes an brambles aa taiglt an snorled, til whan he’d wan a guid twa-thrie mile owre the braes, bit bi bit his legs begude ti fail, his feet begude ti stound, an he cud gang nae mair.
Niver the word did he speak, tho i his breist he wis switherin. “A’m a Court Officiar o hie degree” he thocht ti hissel, “thick-fauldit wis ma beddin i the capital, an dentie the board A ett aff. Ay, an there’ll be sweirtie intil’t tae - whan did A ever weir sic strae shuin an gae shankin owre sic hill-gaits?.....Fine they ken whaurabout their Paip is, but och, the wearie weys A’ve still ti thole!” An he’d gane nae mair as fifty steps afore he wis hotchin an pechin.
Then a flaff o wind raise up out o a corrie on the braeside, an whan it wis by, on a sudden frae in ahint the pine trees wi a gurl like thunner a muckle white-broued gowden-haired baistie wi bogglin een cam breingin out at him! Marischal Hong fair gat a fleg: he gied the ae skreich an cowpit owre backart. The muckle baist cam on at him, roun an roun wi gurlin an wi gowpin, til it turnt an skelpit aff doun the back bankin an awa. Marischal Hong wis left streikit out at a tree-fuit, that fleyed his thirty-sax teeth wis dirlin thegither an his hairt wis playin dunt-duntie like fifteen buckets in a wal, seiven o them gaun up an echt o them gaun doun. His haill body wis numb like he hed the paralytics, i the houghs he wis like a waurit fechtin-cock, an in his mou wis aye doulanee.
Wi the baistie awa, it tuik the time a cup o tea taks afore he cud staucher ti’s feet, lift the censer, an stert kennlin the Royal Incense: then he wis awa up the brae again, fair set on gettin ti see the Paip.
Ance mair he’d taen nae mair as fifty steps afore he wis sicherin, an he wis peingin: “Bi command o His Majestie A’m pitten here ti get frichts the like o yon!”. An he wis juist new dune sayin it whan anither flaff o wind he felt, an the fowsum reek o’t bladdit aa about him. The Marischal glowert roun an roun, then frae the bamboo-shaw on the braeface there cam a reishlin soun, an a muckle white-spreckled worm the size o a chein o wal-buckets burst ram-stam out at him!
The sicht o this gied the Marischal anither fleg; he flang awa his censer, an wi a roar o “Am killt this time!”, back he cowpit ti the side o a muckle clinty stane. But the worm cam richt up ti the stane an kinkit itsel up in a hott fornent the Marischal, its twae een leamin gowd, the tongue fliskin out o the unco mou o’t, an a fowsum pyzen spirtin i the face o Marischal Hong. It gied him a fleg at wandert his wits an clean dumfounert him. The baist hed a lang look at the Marischal, then snoovit awa doun the brae an wis seen nae mair.
Ance an he cud staucher ti’s feet he says “Guidsakes! A wis near killt wi the fricht o’t!”, an whan he spied he’d hen’s flesh on him the size o dumplins, he stertit in ti miscaa the priests: “It’s owre demmed menseless, makin sic a mock o me! An giein me sic flegs an frichts forby!....An A canna find the Paip on the brae, A’ll awa dounby an there’ll be mair said about it!” Sae he liftit his siller censer, gied a bit redd up ti the Dictamen, his claes an his bunnet, an wis set for up the brae ance mair.
He wis juist liftin his feet whan he heard ahint the pines a wee soun o whisslin comin near. The Marischal lookit an spied a novice callant comin on, striddlin a yalla stot backside foremaist, whisslin on an airn flute an keck-kecklin as he gaed owre the brae. Marischal Hong cried on him “Whaur hae ye come frae? Dae ye ken whae A am?”. The callant niver let dicht, tho, but gaed on wi his wheiplin. Twae-thrie times mair the Marischal speirit at him or the callant gied a rairin lauch, pyntin at him wi the airn flute an sayin “Ye cam here ti fin the Paip, didn’t ye no?” Unco fleyed, the Commander says “Ye’re but a herd-callant, hou gat ye ti ken?” an the callant leuch “A wis waitin on the Paip this mornin an A heard him say ‘The Son o Heiven’s eenou sendin some Marischal Hong bodie wi a reid-sealit Dictamen an Royal Incense ti bring up the brae, an he’ll summonse me ti the Eastren Capital ti gie the Thrie Hunder an Saxtie Michtie Synoptic Masses, an gie mass an mait agin the pest at’s i the kinrik. A’m awa nou ti munt the mists an sclim the clouds an gae.’ A dout he maun be awa bi this, for he isna at the sheilin. Dinna you gang upbye: the’r a byornar amount o worms an wild baists on the braes, an A’m feart they’ll aiblins dae ye ill.”
Ance mair the Marischal speirit him: “Ye wadna be tellin lees nou?” But the callant gied the ae lauch an niver answert back, juist wheiplin on his airn flute as he wan awa owre the braeface.
The Marischal thocht on’t: “Hou wad yon bairn ken aa about it? A dout it’ll be the Paip at commandit him.....Ay, sae it maun be.” An he’d a mind ti haud up the brae ance mair, but he thocht: “A’ve new been sair fleyed, an gey near losst ma life.....leifer doun the brae, A’m thinkin.”
Sae the Marischal tuik his censer, airtit out his auld gait, an skelpit doun the brae. The priest-bodies at cam out ti him bade him in ti sit doun i the Abbeymaister’s chaumers, an the Abbeymaister speirit him: “Did ye see the Paip?”
Quo the Marischal, “A’m a Court Officiar o hie degree: hou cud ye pit me owre sic hillgaits ti dree sic a wearie weird an gey near loss ma life? Firstlins, haufroads up the brae a muckle white-broued baist wi bogglin een cam breingin out an gied uis sic a fleg A tint ma wits; neist, whan A hedna gaen mair as haufroads owre the brae, out o a bamboo-shaw a muckle white-spreckled worm burst ramstam out at uis, kinkit itsel up in a hott, an wadna let uis gang forrit! This is aa you priesties makin a mock o me!”
“Whit wey wad us puir priests daur lichtlie Yir Honour?” quo the Abbeymaister. “It maun hae been Our Fundator preein yir hairt, Marischal, for tho there’s worms an baists eneuch on our braes, they’re no skaithfu at aa!”
“A cud juist gang nae mair” quo the Marischal, “but A wis set for up the brae again for aa that, whan this callant cam out frae in aside the pine wuids, an gaed owre the brae striddlin a yalla stot an whisslin on an airn flute. Sae A speirit him ‘Whaur are ye frae? Ken me?’. Quo he ‘A ken aa about it’, an he tellt me the Paip hed muntit his crane, sclimmed the clouds an awa ti the Eastren Capital this mornin. Sae back A cam.”
“Och, but it’s a shame, Marischal” quo the Abbeymaister, “for ye’ve mischancit! Thon herd-callant wis the Paip hissel!”
“Hou’s he sae ill-faured, then, gin he’s the Paip?” says the Marischal, an the Abbeymaister answert him.
“Our present Paip’s no ti be lichtliet: for aa he’s a bairn, he’s byornar wyce an skillie. He’s a loun at’s aathegither by the common, a sheinin luminance in ilka airt, an his prayers is effeckfu abune aa ither thing. Warldlie fowk cries him Fundator Viapervador”.
“A didna ken the verra Paip” rairs the Marischal, “an me wi een in ma heid! E’en forenenst him A’ve mischancit!”
“Dinna fash, Marischal. Sin the Fundator’s shawin us he’s gane, then bi time ye’ve wan ti the capital he’ll hae feinisht wi aa thae Halie Exercises.” An the Marischal wis fasht nae mair.
The Abbeymaister gart set out a braw denner ti the Marischal, biddin him pit the Reid-sealed Dictamen awa intil a kist o Royal Write an lea it at Sublimitie Abbey, an the Royal Incense wis brunt i the Thriefauld Sublimitie Haa. Meikle wis the lentren-mait set out thon day i the chaumers, wi feastin an wi drink; the soiree gaed on late, then ilkane tuik their nicht’s rest or the day it hed dawed.
The neist day efter brakfaist the Abbeymaister an the priests, alang wi sindrie o the wardens an siclike ither fowk, speirit the Marischal wad he tak a bit turn outowre the braes, an the Marischal wis fair delightit. Wi a wheen o the ither fowk followin ahint them, they quat the chaumers, an led bi a novice they divertit theirsels wi aa the sichts as they daunert about the Abbey. The riches an the braws o the Thriefauld Sublimitie Abbey wad be mair nor tongue micht tell: on the left-haun aisle wis the Nint Heiven Haa, Peerie Purpie Haa, an the Polestaur Haa. On the richt-haun aisle wis Michtie Monad Haa, Thrie Clerks Haa, an the Sainin o Ill Haa.
Ance an they’d seen aa about the biggins they landit at a bit in ahint the richt-haun aisle, an Marischal Hong spied anither biggin ti the Abbey. Cley waas it hed, as reid aa roun as champit chillie peppers, wi twa lang scarlet windaes i the face o’t. The yett wis steikit wi a pintle as lang’s yir airm, crossweys owre it wis clappit a dizzen or mair o the priests’ lang paper bands, an the bands wir owrestampit time an time again wi reid seals. Afore the easins wis hingin a reid-lacquered signbrod, the gowden letters o’t sayin
Dounhadden Demons Haa.
Pyntin at the door, Marischal Hong says, “Whit kin o a haa’s this?”, an the Abbeymaister answert him: “It wis i the time o the Michtie Hous o Tang at the bygane Paip Mysteriopervador lockit an sealed the King o Demons in. For generations it’s been haunit doun frae Paip ti Paip at ilkane wi his ain haun maun eik his band, sae nae son nor oe o theirs micht apen thon door. Byornar fearsome’s the Demon Princes at micht get out. Throu echt-nine generations nou they’ve swure an aith at apen it they winna daur. Yon sneck wis made o the rinnin bress cuisten in a mold - whae kens whit lies inben? Sin the time A cam for Abbeymaister here, mair nor thirty year sinsyne, A’ve kent nocht o’t forby the hearin”.
Marischal Hong gat a shog wi this, but he thocht ti hissel, “A’ll juist try a bit keek at thae demons.” sae ti the Abbeymaister quo he “Juist apen you the door an A’ll see whitlike’s the King o Demons.”
The Abbeymaister tellt him: “ Marischal Hong, we mauna dae it. It’s aye been the threipin an the tellin o bygane Paips: nae man in onie time maun get ti apen it unbidden.”
“Havers!” leuch the Marischal.” Ye’re juist cleckin ferlies ti begowk daicent fowk wi! Ye dae thae places out deliberate, lettin on ye’ve the King o Demons lockit up, an it’s aa ti glaik fowk wi yir warlockrie. Weill, A’ve read aa the Buiks o Leir, an ye’se niver finnd a wey ti lock demons up there, for demons an bogles o their kind an naitur is set ti byde i the Mirk Pit. A’ll juist no hae’t at the’r a King o Demons in yonder! Get it strecht apen for me, an A’ll see whitlike’s the King o Demons!”
Monday, September 23, 2019
Sunday, September 22, 2019
Saturday, September 21, 2019
Friday, September 20, 2019
Thursday, September 19, 2019
Wednesday, September 18, 2019
Tuesday, September 17, 2019
When Winter Never Ends
DAY 1: FEB. 4, 2018
"There is timing in the whole life of the warrior, in his thriving and declining, in his harmony and discord."
--Musashi Miyamoto (circa 1584-1645), samurai and artist
Ichiro Suzuki steps out of the cold into the small restaurant that serves him dinner most nights. It's winter in Kobe, Japan, where he once played professional baseball and where he comes during the offseason to train. His wife, Yumiko, is back home in Seattle. He is here alone, free from the untidy bits of domestic life that might break his focus. Every day, he works out in a professional stadium he rents, and then he usually comes to this restaurant, which feels like a country inn transported to the city. It's tucked away on the fifth floor of a downtown building and accessible by a tiny elevator. Someone on the staff meets Ichiro at the back door so he can slip in unseen. Someone else rushes to take his coat, and Ichiro sits at a small bar with his back to the rest of the diners. Two friends join him. Inside the warm and glowing room, the chef slips on his traditional coat as he greets Ichiro in mock surprise.
"Thanks for coming again," says the chef, wearing Miami Marlins shorts.
"You guys made me wait outside," Ichiro jokes.
Ichiro is a meticulous man, held in orbit by patterns and attention to detail. This place specializes in beef tongue, slicing it thin by hand and serving it raw alongside hot cast-iron skillets. They do one thing perfectly, which appeals to Ichiro. Tonight he's got dark jeans rolled up to the calf, each leg even, and a gray T-shirt under a white button-down with a skinny tie. His hair looks darker than in some recent photos, maybe the lighting, maybe a dye job. Either way, not even a 44-year-old future Hall of Famer is immune from the insecurities and diminishments that come with time. This winter is the most insecure and diminished he's been.
He doesn't have a professional baseball contract in America or Japan. His agent, John Boggs, has called, texted and emailed teams so often that one MLB general manager now calls Boggs "the elephant hunter," because he's stalking his prey. Boggs recently sent an email to all 30 teams. Only one wrote back to decline. Ichiro hasn't spoken to Boggs once this offseason, locked in on what he and his aging body can control.
The restaurant fills up. Customers take off their shoes. At every table, signs warn that no pictures can be taken. Ichiro waves at an older couple. A producer type brings two young women over to meet him, and Ichiro makes small talk before they bow and recede. He makes some jokes about aging and turns a wine bottle in his hand to read the label. The waiters, wearing sandals and blue bandannas, sling plates of raw tongue and mugs of cold beer with ice flecks in them. The chef installs a fresh gas can and sets down a cast-iron grill in front of Ichiro.
"This is really delicious," Ichiro says.
He and his companions discuss the future, debating philosophies of business, a new world opening up. Later they turn nostalgic and talk about the past. He started training every day in the third grade and has never stopped. Once during his career he took a vacation, a trip to Milan that he hated. This past October, Marlins infielder Dee Gordon came to get something at the clubhouse after the season. He heard the crack of a bat in the cages and found Ichiro there, getting in his daily swings. "I really just hope he keeps playing," Gordon says with a chuckle, "because I don't want him to die. I believe he might die if he doesn't keep playing. What is Ichiro gonna do if he doesn't play baseball?"
Former teammates all have favorite Ichiro stories, about how he carries his bats in a custom humidor case to keep out moisture, how in the minors he'd swing the bat for 10 minutes every night before going to sleep, or wake up some mornings to swing alone in the dark from 1 to 4 a.m. All the stories make the same point: He has methodically stripped away everything from his life except baseball. Former first baseman Mike Sweeney, who got close to Ichiro in Seattle, tells one about getting a call from an old teammate who'd had an off-day in New York. You're not gonna believe this, the guy began. He'd brought along his wife and they walked through Central Park, thrilled to be together in such a serene place. Far off in the distance, at a sandlot field with an old backstop that looked leftover from the 1940s, they saw a guy playing long toss. The big leaguer did the quick math and figured the distant stranger was throwing 300 feet on the fly. Curious, he walked closer. The guy hit balls into the backstop, the powerful shotgun blast of real contact familiar to any serious player. He became impressed, so he got even closer, close enough to see.
The man working out alone in Central Park was Ichiro.
His agent and those close to him think he'll sign with a Japanese team if no offer comes from the major leagues. Television crews floated around the Ginza district in Tokyo the night before asking people what they think about Ichiro's future. Ichiro, as usual, is saying nothing. He's a cipher, keeping himself hidden, yet his yearning has never been more visible. His old team, the Orix Buffaloes, wants him back desperately -- but Japanese spring training started three days ago and Ichiro remains in Kobe. For a private man, these three days speak loudly about his need for another season in America. Over the years, he's talked about playing until he's 50 but also of his desire to "vanish" once his career ends. Those two desires exist in opposition, and if America never calls, he holds the power to make either of them real. He can sign with Orix, or he can fade away. The choice is his.
These are the things working in his life at dinner, a cold Sunday night between the Rokko mountains and Osaka Bay. Ichiro finally stands to leave. Two customers step into the aisle and bow, not the perfunctory half-bow of business associates and hotel bellmen, but a full to-the-waist bow of deep respect. Is this what the end of a great career looks like up close? Ichiro hates not playing baseball, but he might hate playing poorly even more. When he's slumping, his wife has said, she will wake up and find him crying in his sleep. The first time he went on the disabled list as a major leaguer was because of a bleeding stomach ulcer. That year, he'd led Japan to a victory in the 2009 World Baseball Classic, winning the final game with a base hit in extra innings. The stress ate a hole in his stomach. Weeks later, a Mariners team doctor told him he couldn't play on Opening Day. Ichiro refused to listen, his teammate Sweeney says. Before the team ultimately forced him to sit, the doctor tried to explain that a bleeding ulcer was a serious condition that could actually kill him.
Ichiro listened, unmoved.
"I'll take my chances," he said.
Monday, September 16, 2019
UNITED STATES v. ONE BOOK CALLED "ULYSSES."
5 F. Supp. 182 (1933)
UNITED STATES
v.
ONE BOOK CALLED "ULYSSES."
District Court, S. D. New York.
December 6, 1933.
The United States Attorney (Samuel C. Coleman and Nicholas Atlas, both of New York City, of counsel), for the United States.
Greenbaum, Wolff & Ernst, of New York City (Morris L. Ernst and Alexander Lindey, both of New York City, of counsel), for Random House, Inc.
WOOLSEY, District Judge.
The motion for a decree dismissing the libel herein is granted, and, consequently, of course, the government's motion for a decree of forfeiture and destruction is denied.
Accordingly a decree dismissing the libel without costs may be entered herein.
I. The practice followed in this case is in accordance with the suggestion made by me in the case of United States v. One Book, Entitled "Contraception" (D. C.) 51 F.(2d) 525, and is as follows:
After issue was joined by the filing of the claimant's answer to the libel for forfeiture against "Ulysses," a stipulation was *183 made between the United States Attorney's office and the attorneys for the claimant providing:
1. That the book "Ulysses" should be deemed to have been annexed to and to have become part of the libel just as if it had been incorporated in its entirety therein.
2. That the parties waived their right to a trial by jury.
3. That each party agreed to move for decree in its favor.
4. That on such cross-motions the court might decide all the questions of law and fact involved and render a general finding thereon.
5. That on the decision of such motions the decree of the court might be entered as if it were a decree after trial.
It seems to me that a procedure of this kind is highly appropriate in libels such as this for the confiscation of books. It is an especially advantageous procedure in the instant case because, on account of the length of "Ulysses" and the difficulty of reading it, a jury trial would have been an extremely unsatisfactory, if not an almost impossible method of dealing with it.
II. I have read "Ulysses" once in its entirety and I have read those passages of which the government particularly complains several times. In fact, for many weeks, my spare time has been devoted to the consideration of the decision which my duty would require me to make in this matter.
"Ulysses" is not an easy book to read or to understand. But there has been much written about it, and in order properly to approach the consideration of it it is advisable to read a number of other books which have now become its satellites. The study of "Ulysses" is, therefore, a heavy task.
III. The reputation of "Ulysses" in the literary world, however, warranted my taking such time as was necessary to enable me to satisfy myself as to the intent with which the book was written, for, of course, in any case where a book is claimed to be obscene it must first be determined, whether the intent with which it was written was what is called, according to the usual phrase, pornographic, that is, written for the purpose of exploiting obscenity.
If the conclusion is that the book is pornographic, that is the end of the inquiry and forfeiture must follow.
But in "Ulysses," in spite of its unusual frankness, I do not detect anywhere the leer of the sensualist. I hold, therefore, that it is not pornographic.
IV. In writing "Ulysses," Joyce sought to make a serious experiment in a new, if not wholly novel, literary genre. He takes persons of the lower middle class living in Dublin in 1904 and seeks, not only to describe what they did on a certain day early in June of that year as they went about the city bent on their usual occupations, but also to tell what many of them thought about the while.
Joyce has attempted it seems to me, with astonishing success to show how the screen of consciousness with its ever-shifting kaleidoscopic impressions carries, as it were on a plastic palimpsest, not only what is in the focus of each man's observation of the actual things about him, but also in a penumbral zone residua of past impressions, some recent and some drawn up by association from the domain of the subconscious. He shows how each of these impressions affects the life and behavior of the character which he is describing.
What he seeks to get is not unlike the result of a double or, if that is possible, a multiple exposure on a cinema film, which would give a clear foreground with a background visible but somewhat blurred and out of focus in varying degrees.
To convey by words an effect which obviously lends itself more appropriately to a graphic technique, accounts, it seems to me, for much of the obscurity which meets a reader of "Ulysses." And it also explains another aspect of the book, which I have further to consider, namely, Joyce's sincerity and his honest effort to show exactly how the minds of his characters operate.
If Joyce did not attempt to be honest in developing the technique which he has adopted in "Ulysses," the result would be psychologically misleading and thus unfaithful to his chosen technique. Such an attitude would be artistically inexcusable.
It is because Joyce has been loyal to his technique and has not funked its necessary implications, but has honestly attempted to tell fully what his characters think about, that he has been the subject of so many attacks and that his purpose has been so often misunderstood and misrepresented. For his attempt sincerely and honestly to realize his objective has required him incidentally to use certain words which are generally considered dirty words and has led at times to what many think is a too poignant preoccupation with sex in the thoughts of his characters.
The words which are criticized as dirty *184 are old Saxon words known to almost all men and, I venture, to many women, and are such words as would be naturally and habitually used, I believe, by the types of folk whose life, physical and mental, Joyce is seeking to describe. In respect of the recurrent emergence of the theme of sex in the minds of his characters, it must always be remembered that his locale was Celtic and his season spring.
Whether or not one enjoys such a technique as Joyce uses is a matter of taste on which disagreement or argument is futile, but to subject that technique to the standards of some other technique seems to me to be little short of absurd.
Accordingly, I hold that "Ulysses" is a sincere and honest book, and I think that the criticisms of it are entirely disposed of by its rationale.
V. Furthermore, "Ulysses" is an amazing tour de force when one considers the success which has been in the main achieved with such a difficult objective as Joyce set for himself. As I have stated, "Ulysses" is not an easy book to read. It is brilliant and dull, intelligible and obscure, by turns. In many places it seems to me to be disgusting, but although it contains, as I have mentioned above, many words usually considered dirty, I have not found anything that I consider to be dirt for dirt's sake. Each word of the book contributes like a bit of mosaic to the detail of the picture which Joyce is seeking to construct for his readers.
If one does not wish to associate with such folk as Joyce describes, that is one's own choice. In order to avoid indirect contact with them one may not wish to read "Ulysses"; that is quite understandable. But when such a great artist in words, as Joyce undoubtedly is, seeks to draw a true picture of the lower middle class in a European city, ought it to be impossible for the American public legally to see that picture?
To answer this question it is not sufficient merely to find, as I have found above, that Joyce did not write "Ulysses" with what is commonly called pornographic intent, I must endeavor to apply a more objective standard to his book in order to determine its effect in the result, irrespective of the intent with which it was written.
VI. The statute under which the libel is filed only denounces, in so far as we are here concerned, the importation into the United States from any foreign country of "any obscene book." Section 305 of the Tariff Act of 1930, title 19 United States Code, § 1305 (19 USCA § 1305). It does not marshal against books the spectrum of condemnatory adjectives found, commonly, in laws dealing with matters of this kind. I am, therefore, only required to determine whether "Ulysses" is obscene within the legal definition of that word.
The meaning of the word "obscene" as legally defined by the courts is: Tending to stir the sex impulses or to lead to sexually impure and lustful thoughts. Dunlop v. United States, 165 U.S. 486, 501, 17 S. Ct. 375, 41 L. Ed. 799; United States v. One Obscene Book Entitled "Married Love" (D. C.) 48 F.(2d) 821, 824; United States v. One Book, Entitled "Contraception" (D. C.) 51 F.(2d) 525, 528; and compare Dysart v. United States, 272 U.S. 655, 657, 47 S. Ct. 234, 71 L. Ed. 461; Swearingen v. United States, 161 U.S. 446, 450, 16 S. Ct. 562, 40 L. Ed. 765; United States v. Dennett, 39 F. (2d) 564, 568, 76 A. L. R. 1092 (C. C. A. 2); People v. Wendling, 258 N.Y. 451, 453, 180 N.E. 169, 81 A. L. R. 799.
Whether a particular book would tend to excite such impulses and thoughts must be tested by the court's opinion as to its effect on a person with average sex instincts what the French would call l'homme moyen sensuel who plays, in this branch of legal inquiry, the same role of hypothetical reagent as does the "reasonable man" in the law of torts and "the man learned in the art" on questions of invention in patent law.
The risk involved in the use of such a reagent arises from the inherent tendency of the trier of facts, however fair he may intend to be, to make his reagent too much subservient to his own idiosyncrasies. Here, I have attempted to avoid this, if possible, and to make my reagent herein more objective than he might otherwise be, by adopting the following course:
After I had made my decision in regard to the aspect of "Ulysses," now under consideration, I checked my impressions with two friends of mine who in my opinion answered to the above-stated requirement for my reagent.
These literary assessors as I might properly describe them were called on separately, and neither knew that I was consulting the other. They are men whose opinion on literature and on life I value most highly. They had both read "Ulysses," and, of course, were wholly unconnected with this cause.
Without letting either of my assessors know what my decision was, I gave to each of them the legal definition of obscene and asked *185 each whether in his opinion "Ulysses" was obscene within that definition.
I was interested to find that they both agreed with my opinion: That reading "Ulysses" in its entirety, as a book must be read on such a test as this, did not tend to excite sexual impulses or lustful thoughts, but that its net effect on them was only that of a somewhat tragic and very powerful commentary on the inner lives of men and women.
It is only with the normal person that the law is concerned. Such a test as I have described, therefore, is the only proper test of obscenity in the case of a book like "Ulysses" which is a sincere and serious attempt to devise a new literary method for the observation and description of mankind.
I am quite aware that owing to some of its scenes "Ulysses" is a rather strong draught to ask some sensitive, though normal, persons to take. But my considered opinion, after long reflection, is that, whilst in many places the effect of "Ulysses" on the reader undoubtedly is somewhat emetic, nowhere does it tend to be an aphrodisiac.
"Ulysses" may, therefore, be admitted into the United States.
UNITED STATES
v.
ONE BOOK CALLED "ULYSSES."
District Court, S. D. New York.
December 6, 1933.
The United States Attorney (Samuel C. Coleman and Nicholas Atlas, both of New York City, of counsel), for the United States.
Greenbaum, Wolff & Ernst, of New York City (Morris L. Ernst and Alexander Lindey, both of New York City, of counsel), for Random House, Inc.
WOOLSEY, District Judge.
The motion for a decree dismissing the libel herein is granted, and, consequently, of course, the government's motion for a decree of forfeiture and destruction is denied.
Accordingly a decree dismissing the libel without costs may be entered herein.
I. The practice followed in this case is in accordance with the suggestion made by me in the case of United States v. One Book, Entitled "Contraception" (D. C.) 51 F.(2d) 525, and is as follows:
After issue was joined by the filing of the claimant's answer to the libel for forfeiture against "Ulysses," a stipulation was *183 made between the United States Attorney's office and the attorneys for the claimant providing:
1. That the book "Ulysses" should be deemed to have been annexed to and to have become part of the libel just as if it had been incorporated in its entirety therein.
2. That the parties waived their right to a trial by jury.
3. That each party agreed to move for decree in its favor.
4. That on such cross-motions the court might decide all the questions of law and fact involved and render a general finding thereon.
5. That on the decision of such motions the decree of the court might be entered as if it were a decree after trial.
It seems to me that a procedure of this kind is highly appropriate in libels such as this for the confiscation of books. It is an especially advantageous procedure in the instant case because, on account of the length of "Ulysses" and the difficulty of reading it, a jury trial would have been an extremely unsatisfactory, if not an almost impossible method of dealing with it.
II. I have read "Ulysses" once in its entirety and I have read those passages of which the government particularly complains several times. In fact, for many weeks, my spare time has been devoted to the consideration of the decision which my duty would require me to make in this matter.
"Ulysses" is not an easy book to read or to understand. But there has been much written about it, and in order properly to approach the consideration of it it is advisable to read a number of other books which have now become its satellites. The study of "Ulysses" is, therefore, a heavy task.
III. The reputation of "Ulysses" in the literary world, however, warranted my taking such time as was necessary to enable me to satisfy myself as to the intent with which the book was written, for, of course, in any case where a book is claimed to be obscene it must first be determined, whether the intent with which it was written was what is called, according to the usual phrase, pornographic, that is, written for the purpose of exploiting obscenity.
If the conclusion is that the book is pornographic, that is the end of the inquiry and forfeiture must follow.
But in "Ulysses," in spite of its unusual frankness, I do not detect anywhere the leer of the sensualist. I hold, therefore, that it is not pornographic.
IV. In writing "Ulysses," Joyce sought to make a serious experiment in a new, if not wholly novel, literary genre. He takes persons of the lower middle class living in Dublin in 1904 and seeks, not only to describe what they did on a certain day early in June of that year as they went about the city bent on their usual occupations, but also to tell what many of them thought about the while.
Joyce has attempted it seems to me, with astonishing success to show how the screen of consciousness with its ever-shifting kaleidoscopic impressions carries, as it were on a plastic palimpsest, not only what is in the focus of each man's observation of the actual things about him, but also in a penumbral zone residua of past impressions, some recent and some drawn up by association from the domain of the subconscious. He shows how each of these impressions affects the life and behavior of the character which he is describing.
What he seeks to get is not unlike the result of a double or, if that is possible, a multiple exposure on a cinema film, which would give a clear foreground with a background visible but somewhat blurred and out of focus in varying degrees.
To convey by words an effect which obviously lends itself more appropriately to a graphic technique, accounts, it seems to me, for much of the obscurity which meets a reader of "Ulysses." And it also explains another aspect of the book, which I have further to consider, namely, Joyce's sincerity and his honest effort to show exactly how the minds of his characters operate.
If Joyce did not attempt to be honest in developing the technique which he has adopted in "Ulysses," the result would be psychologically misleading and thus unfaithful to his chosen technique. Such an attitude would be artistically inexcusable.
It is because Joyce has been loyal to his technique and has not funked its necessary implications, but has honestly attempted to tell fully what his characters think about, that he has been the subject of so many attacks and that his purpose has been so often misunderstood and misrepresented. For his attempt sincerely and honestly to realize his objective has required him incidentally to use certain words which are generally considered dirty words and has led at times to what many think is a too poignant preoccupation with sex in the thoughts of his characters.
The words which are criticized as dirty *184 are old Saxon words known to almost all men and, I venture, to many women, and are such words as would be naturally and habitually used, I believe, by the types of folk whose life, physical and mental, Joyce is seeking to describe. In respect of the recurrent emergence of the theme of sex in the minds of his characters, it must always be remembered that his locale was Celtic and his season spring.
Whether or not one enjoys such a technique as Joyce uses is a matter of taste on which disagreement or argument is futile, but to subject that technique to the standards of some other technique seems to me to be little short of absurd.
Accordingly, I hold that "Ulysses" is a sincere and honest book, and I think that the criticisms of it are entirely disposed of by its rationale.
V. Furthermore, "Ulysses" is an amazing tour de force when one considers the success which has been in the main achieved with such a difficult objective as Joyce set for himself. As I have stated, "Ulysses" is not an easy book to read. It is brilliant and dull, intelligible and obscure, by turns. In many places it seems to me to be disgusting, but although it contains, as I have mentioned above, many words usually considered dirty, I have not found anything that I consider to be dirt for dirt's sake. Each word of the book contributes like a bit of mosaic to the detail of the picture which Joyce is seeking to construct for his readers.
If one does not wish to associate with such folk as Joyce describes, that is one's own choice. In order to avoid indirect contact with them one may not wish to read "Ulysses"; that is quite understandable. But when such a great artist in words, as Joyce undoubtedly is, seeks to draw a true picture of the lower middle class in a European city, ought it to be impossible for the American public legally to see that picture?
To answer this question it is not sufficient merely to find, as I have found above, that Joyce did not write "Ulysses" with what is commonly called pornographic intent, I must endeavor to apply a more objective standard to his book in order to determine its effect in the result, irrespective of the intent with which it was written.
VI. The statute under which the libel is filed only denounces, in so far as we are here concerned, the importation into the United States from any foreign country of "any obscene book." Section 305 of the Tariff Act of 1930, title 19 United States Code, § 1305 (19 USCA § 1305). It does not marshal against books the spectrum of condemnatory adjectives found, commonly, in laws dealing with matters of this kind. I am, therefore, only required to determine whether "Ulysses" is obscene within the legal definition of that word.
The meaning of the word "obscene" as legally defined by the courts is: Tending to stir the sex impulses or to lead to sexually impure and lustful thoughts. Dunlop v. United States, 165 U.S. 486, 501, 17 S. Ct. 375, 41 L. Ed. 799; United States v. One Obscene Book Entitled "Married Love" (D. C.) 48 F.(2d) 821, 824; United States v. One Book, Entitled "Contraception" (D. C.) 51 F.(2d) 525, 528; and compare Dysart v. United States, 272 U.S. 655, 657, 47 S. Ct. 234, 71 L. Ed. 461; Swearingen v. United States, 161 U.S. 446, 450, 16 S. Ct. 562, 40 L. Ed. 765; United States v. Dennett, 39 F. (2d) 564, 568, 76 A. L. R. 1092 (C. C. A. 2); People v. Wendling, 258 N.Y. 451, 453, 180 N.E. 169, 81 A. L. R. 799.
Whether a particular book would tend to excite such impulses and thoughts must be tested by the court's opinion as to its effect on a person with average sex instincts what the French would call l'homme moyen sensuel who plays, in this branch of legal inquiry, the same role of hypothetical reagent as does the "reasonable man" in the law of torts and "the man learned in the art" on questions of invention in patent law.
The risk involved in the use of such a reagent arises from the inherent tendency of the trier of facts, however fair he may intend to be, to make his reagent too much subservient to his own idiosyncrasies. Here, I have attempted to avoid this, if possible, and to make my reagent herein more objective than he might otherwise be, by adopting the following course:
After I had made my decision in regard to the aspect of "Ulysses," now under consideration, I checked my impressions with two friends of mine who in my opinion answered to the above-stated requirement for my reagent.
These literary assessors as I might properly describe them were called on separately, and neither knew that I was consulting the other. They are men whose opinion on literature and on life I value most highly. They had both read "Ulysses," and, of course, were wholly unconnected with this cause.
Without letting either of my assessors know what my decision was, I gave to each of them the legal definition of obscene and asked *185 each whether in his opinion "Ulysses" was obscene within that definition.
I was interested to find that they both agreed with my opinion: That reading "Ulysses" in its entirety, as a book must be read on such a test as this, did not tend to excite sexual impulses or lustful thoughts, but that its net effect on them was only that of a somewhat tragic and very powerful commentary on the inner lives of men and women.
It is only with the normal person that the law is concerned. Such a test as I have described, therefore, is the only proper test of obscenity in the case of a book like "Ulysses" which is a sincere and serious attempt to devise a new literary method for the observation and description of mankind.
I am quite aware that owing to some of its scenes "Ulysses" is a rather strong draught to ask some sensitive, though normal, persons to take. But my considered opinion, after long reflection, is that, whilst in many places the effect of "Ulysses" on the reader undoubtedly is somewhat emetic, nowhere does it tend to be an aphrodisiac.
"Ulysses" may, therefore, be admitted into the United States.
Sunday, September 15, 2019
Saturday, September 14, 2019
Friday, September 13, 2019
Grand Master Norms
A GM norm must be achieved in a tournament with at least nine games. However, some tournaments are exempt from this: only 7 games are required for 7 round World Team or Club and Continental Team or Club Championships, and for for 8 or 9 round World Team or Club and Continental Team or Club Championships. In addition, a norm may be scored in 8 games in the World Cup or Women's World Championship, where these 8 games count as 9 games.
If a player has only 8 games due to a bye, but otherwise fulfills the requirements for a norm, he has achieved an 8-game norm.
If a player has met the requirements for a norm after 9 rounds of a tournament with more than 9 games, he or she may ignore the following results and score a 9-game norm.
Contrary to popular belief, you only need two or more norms to achieve the GM title, but these norms must be achieved over the course of at least 27 games (which normally corresponds to three 9-round tournaments), or 26 games if one norm was an 8-game norm as the result of a win by forfeit. So you could theoretically gain a GM title by scoring norms in one 13-round event and one 14-round event, or you could score one only by gaining four norms if by some freak occurrence every norm was a 7-game norm.
In order to score a GM norm, at least 1/3 of your opponents must be grandmasters. This, of course, means at least three GMs in a nine-round tournament.
You must face opponents from at least three federations (two federations other than your own). A maximum of 3/5 of the opponents may come from the applicant’s federation and a maximum of 2/3 of the opponents from any one federation. However, some tournaments are exempt from this rule, including:
The final stage of the national men’s (or open) championship and also national women’s championships. In the year when the Subzonal tournament of a single federation is held, then the national championship is not exempt for that federation. This exemption applies only to players from the federation which registers the event.
Swiss System tournaments in which participants include in every round at least 20 FIDE rated players participate, not from the host federation, from at least 3 different federations, at least 10 of whom hold GM, IM, WGM or WIM titles.
At least one norm must be achieved using "normal foreigner regulations".
At least 50% of your opponents must be title-holders, in addition to the requirement of meeting at least 1/3 GMs.
The minimum average rating of opponents for a grandmaster norm is 2380. For the purposes of this calculation, you are allowed to raise the rating of one opponent to 2200. (I'm unclear on whether this also applies to performance rating, but believe this is the case.)
In order to score a GM norm, your rating performance, rounded up, must be at least 2600.
And finally, as everyone knows, in order to gain the GM title, you must at some point have achieved a live rating of 2500. Note: this is a live rating, and need not ever be reflected in an official rating list.
Norm tournaments
Some tournaments are specifically designed to allow all participants a chance at a norm, purely based on their own performance. Such tournaments are typically designed such that 6.5/9 corresponds to a performance rating of 2600 or more (or 2450, in the case of IM norm tournaments). But most tournaments are not designed in this way. For example, GM-elect Nino Batsiashvili scored her third norm in the recent Isle of Man tournament with only a score of 4.5/9. She faced incredibly tough opposition, including a win and a draw against 2700s. This strong performance meant that even scoring just 50% gave a rating performance of 2643. The minimum required score for a norm is 35%.
Direct titles
GM/IM norms are not the only way to score FIDE titles. Some tournaments give automatic titles or norms depending on results. Here is the current exhaustive list of tournaments that may award direct titles or direct norms, outside of the normal requirements.
For example, Indian prodigy Praggnanandhaa has a few months left to steal the title of youngest grandmaster ever from Sergey Karjakin. If he had been the sole winner of the recent Junior (U20) World Championship, he would automatically be awarded the GM title. If he had shared first, he would have gained a norm. As it turned out, he finished fourth, half a point behind the winner, and this was sufficient to score his first GM norm based on the usual requirements.
The winner of the women's world championship is also automatically awarded a GM title, and the runner up, a norm. These regulations are rarely invoked for the World Junior Championship, as it's been a long time since anyone who didn't already hold a GM title, but several recent World Women's Championships gained their titles directly through their tournament win.
In the past
If you need to play 3 grandmasters to gain a norm, where did the first grandmasters come from? Of course, the requirements have changed over time. The first FIDE titles were awarded in 1950 to players who were universally recognized as being among the very best in the world, or active players who were acknowledged to have been so when they were at their peak. FIDE does not reward posthumous titles, and thus, world champions who died before 1950 were never officially recognized as FIDE GMs.
The requirements changed several times over the years. For example, by the 1957 rules, any player who qualified for the candidates tournament, or who would have qualified if not for the restriction on the number of players from a single federation, or who for any reason did play in the candidates tournament and scored at least 33.3%, was automatically awarded the title; as well as the world champion, if he for some reason was not already a recognized GM. Candidates for grandmastership could also be suggested on an ad hoc basis. Needless to say, under these rules, it was much harder to become a GM than it is today. No Elo requirements were present, as the Elo rating system had not been invented yet, and wasn't implemented by FIDE until around 1970.
In summary... for a tournament to qualify for a norm:
The tournament must have at least 9 rounds.
1/3 of your opponents must be a GM, and 1/2 must have a title.
Their average rating must be above 2380, and be from 2 other federations.
You must have been rated 2500 before, and perform at 2600+.