#perhaps i've been acting too much like a silly clown who looks like he's about to die on campus

[synthescythe]

y'know i might completely revamp this fucking blog to something else. i need to be more silly and unhinged on this hellsite. something has changed within me.

[pesterloglog]

Nannasprite, Jane Crocker, Nannaspritex2

Act 6, page 7805-7807

NANNASPRITE: There you are!

NANNASPRITE: I have been looking forward to meeting you, dear. :B

JANE: You have?

JANE: Who are you?

NANNASPRITE: I'm you!

NANNASPRITE: But most know me as John's Nanna. Hoo hoo!

JANE: Oh, yes!

JANE: He told me about you.

JANE: Gosh!

JANE: Pleased to meet you... Nanna, I guess I should call you?

NANNASPRITE: Suits me!

JANE: Calling you Jane might feel a bit strange.

JANE: Also, perhaps disrepectful?

NANNASPRITE: And why is that?

NANNASPRITE: It is my name after all.

JANE: Yes, but,

JANE: You are my senior by many decades, I gather.

JANE: And you have so many more years of life experience, and wisdom, and you...

JANE: Seem to be dressed like a clown?

NANNASPRITE: :B

JANE: Not to disparage your fanciful attire. I quite like it.

JANE: I just mean that...

JANE: You've been through more than I can imagine.

JANE: I couldn't call you by my name. It would feel wrong and flippant to treat you like my equal.

NANNASPRITE: But really, Jane, the honor of meeting you is all mine!

NANNASPRITE: I have been looking forward to it so much since I learned of your existence.

NANNASPRITE: Ever since I spent that one day helping John through his session, there haven't been many reasons for me to feel particularly worthwhile.

NANNASPRITE: Yes, I tended to him and his sister for several years, baked for them, lent a sympathetic ear when needed...

NANNASPRITE: But in a way, it's been a lonely life for me since my ashes fell in this silly old sprite.

NANNASPRITE: I've been strictly an auxiliary actor, there only to serve others even during my greatest moments to shine!

NANNASPRITE: So when I heard of you, a version of myself who was a true hero, so young, empowered, and set to embark upon a life filled with consequential deeds...

NANNASPRITE: I was absolutely giddy. I knew that we had to meet!

JANE: Oh... my!

JANE: You,

JANE: You really feel that way about me?

NANNASPRITE: Yes, Jane!

NANNASPRITE: I do not mean to suggest I regret the way my life has gone, of course.

NANNASPRITE: I lived a very humble life, as free of intrigue and adventure as possible, by choice.

NANNASPRITE: You see, I grew up in dangerous circumstances. I knew how cruel the woman who raised me could be, and what she might do to me or the people I loved if I made waves, or demonstrated any sense of defiance.

NANNASPRITE: So I lived simply. I started a family, and operated a quiet joke shop. Though I always knew trouble was brewing, they were the best years of my life.

NANNASPRITE: Yet I always had a little more knowledge than I ever let on, and used my understanding in subtle ways to help those to whom the torch would be passed in this great fight.

NANNASPRITE: But then, I made the transition from knowing some things in life, to knowing a great deal more in death. Being resurrected as a sprite endowed me with a very deep knowledge of the game and its broader circumstances. I was in peak form, a true harlequin wisewoman, and there was nary a question I couldn't answer.

NANNASPRITE: And then, the dear kids scratched their session, and cast themselves into the unknown.

NANNASPRITE: I ventured with them, and so I too lost my bearing on the nature of what lay ahead.

NANNASPRITE: I went from my prime, a state of all-understanding, to a state of absolute uncertainty. For the first time in about as long as I could remember, I had no idea what to expect next.

NANNASPRITE: It was quite freeing in a way! I had a wonderful three years on that ship with those lovely children. I thought little of what challenges were ahead.

NANNASPRITE: But when I did, my thoughts would always drift toward you, Jane.

NANNASPRITE: Thinking about you, and this adventure you were about to begin, it made me feel like a child again.

NANNASPRITE: It gave me the feelings I used to have for the limitless potential of life, before my stepmother snuffed them out, confronting me with the reality that life would have to take a considerably more limited shape if I wished to survive.

NANNASPRITE: So when I look at you now, I see the potential I had as a child finally being realized.

NANNASPRITE: But in a much more special way than I ever would have imagined back then!

NANNASPRITE: It makes me so proud to see you as a heroic young woman, ready to make a difference, and forge your own destiny.

NANNASPRITE: I just wanted to tell you this before you go off to battle!

JANE: Oh jeez.

JANE: Nanna, I don't know what to say.

JANE: Thank you so much for those inspirational words!

NANNASPRITE: Hoo hoo!

JANE: I think John was really lucky to have you as a sprite. Not to mention, a grandmother, of course.

JANE: It's no wonder he appears to have his act together.

JANE: Maybe I would have been better off if I had someone like you to advise me from the start of all this.

JANE: Maybe I wouldn't have felt so lost.

NANNASPRITE: It's normal to feel lost, though.

NANNASPRITE: And believe me, needing to find your own way in time will make you a lot wiser than having an old lady around to spoon feed you all the answers.

NANNASPRITE: In any case, you have me now!

NANNASPRITE: I think it's been quite a long time since John has needed my guidance.

NANNASPRITE: The boy has grown so much since he clobbered me with a joke book on that fateful day.

NANNASPRITE: From now on, I'd be pleased if you would consider me your sprite. :B

JANE: Wow! :O

JANE: Oh my goodness, yes, please!

NANNASPRITE: In fact, I heard from the cat girl that you and she are on healing duty in this spectacular fray coming up.

NANNASPRITE: It so happens that healing is my specialty. Next to baking of course. (And pranks.)

NANNASPRITE: Why don't I assist?

JANE: That would be great too!

NANNASPRITE: Oh! And Jane, one more thing.

NANNASPRITE: Just so you know...

NANNASPRITEx2: There are actually two of me!

NANNASPRITEx2: HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO!

[chandlerwilde]

My Perception On No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai🥀

🥀

This year has brought me many joys, that have left me with melancholy victories. I have been venturing out of my usual book genres and I've found a selection of well to do books that I simply cannot live without. How I've existed this far without them, I will never know.

There are many different types of literature out there and of course I only focus on English and European Literature. Not because I'm bias  in some way. But I've always found American and European culture very interesting. Despite ignoring my very own culture. It had never occurred to me, that until now, I have never heard of Asian Literature. It's like an unknown phenomenon that no one speaks of. When I think back of my studies in school, I've never even heard of my teachers mentioning Asian writers at all. It was like they didn't exist or people found Asian culture not important enough to read about. Which is odd because in Asian countries they have libraries filled with European novels and American novels. Is it safe to say that Asian people find European and American culture interesting, though we do not share the same feelings toward them.

Nevertheless, I stumbled upon Osamu Dazai after reading a mutual friends post about Vincent Van Gogh. It was a silly meme that consisted of Van Gogh and Osamu talking over their depression. Which is not something to joke about but I must confess I found it humorous. Through that humor, I decided to research Osamu and the rest is history.

So, here is my thoughts on the exceptional book, No Longer Human.

I want to give an in-depth review without giving the book away too much (if at all). But I must warn you that spoilers may become a possibility.

No Longer Human is broken into three parts, including an introduction in the beginning by Donald Keene, as well as a Prologue & Epilogue by Osamu Dazai himself. So, to make things easier to understand, I'm going to review each part individually.

The Introduction

Normally, I would skip this part of the book because at times it can be very boring and bland. But after reading The Sorrows of Young Werther by Johaan Wolfgang Von Goethe, I found it important to read book introductions because they can have valuable information about the writer.

In this section, Donald Keene noted how under appreciated Asian writer are in literature. For some odd reason, American & Europeans cultures specifically seem to feel like we cannot learn anything from Asian culture. Perhaps it has something to do with our history with going to battle with certain Asian countries. Yet, that did not stop countries like Japan and China from filling their liberties with American & European literature. Which upsets me. Had it not been for Van Gogh, I would have missed out on an extremely talented writer. I'm not sure who is to blame for this but I find the idea of not representing Asian writers outside of manga is shameful and sad. There is more to their culture than just that. However, as a whole our world only views Asian people in a small and certain light, that barely gives them any kind of positive recognition outside of the obvious stereotypes.

In short, I really urge everyone to take time and read the introduction and share your thoughts on Keene's and my views. What do you think and why is Asian literature so lost and underrepresented? Why do Asian writers rather be on the bottom of American top writing lists, than the top of Asian writer lists? It is very interesting.

🥀

The Prologue

In this section, you learn of how Ōba Yōzō (aka Dazai himself) feels alienated and very much of a misfit. He tells you how all of his life he has worn a mask to hid his true sensitive and self destructive self. He harshly criticizes himself and informs you of how he feels about the nature of "humans" and how he never felt like one, thus making him believe that he is not.

I like this part of the novel because I can relate to it in so many ways. Many things he explained and said is how I felt (and still very much feel) about myself. Not only of my appearance and state of being but also without people. We both share the same reflection on our confidence or lack there of as a child. I shared his thoughts on normality being ugly and being bland and not standing out is worse than being ugly or beautiful. He even goes on to explain that death has more of a soul or an expression than him.

The ugly/void he felt as a child (as well as his whole life) has manifested into a visible void, that crept from his inner darkness and it carries a bland look.

Which to me speaks volumes.

🥀

The First Notebook

Unable to cope with the world around him, Ōba begins to become a jokester and class clown, in order to mask away the alienation that he feels. He engages in planned fails and acts as if he has no clue as to what he does. He tells us of his environment at home. His father always being gone on business and his mother he did not mention much. He speaks of his maids/servants mistreating him, but he never reported them because he sees it as pointless.

We also learn he views a "human" as someone who is happy and hopeful. Perhaps, attractive in some way and could possibly have a great deal or comfortable amount of money. Which is strange because his family were quite wealthy and well known. He speaks of how he feels his life is a shame and the life of a "human" was not cut out for him.

There is much more to be said here but I do not wish to spoil everything. I still want readers to get a wow factor from this book, without knowing every details and topic.

🥀

The Second Notebook

A very key factor in this part is that Ōba is caught by another student named Takeichi who suspects and confronts him on faking his fall during "gym" class. This sends Ōba into a manic behavior and he somewhat becomes obsessed with Takeichi and fears that he will expose him for being a fraud. I found this interesting given Takeichi had no intention on exposing Ōba or telling anyone about his opinions on his stunts. Certain things happens and the two become somewhat of friends and Takeichi began to mention things to Ōba that were predicting and in a way life changing for Ōba.

Ōba also finds an strong interest in art, which leads him to start painting.

Ōba also becomes apart of a communist group and becomes a respectable member. Though, he does not share their same views and is only there because he views them as misfits.

In this section, a young man now, Ōba meets someone by the name of Horiki. Horiki is also a college student but exposes Ōba into an unfortunate and dreadful life cycles, that pleasures and destroys him further.

He also tries to commit suicide with a woman named Tsuneko, who dies but he does not. This even tears him apart and causes his family to the verge of disowning him.

🥀

The Third Notebook: Part One

Ōba begans to have multiple affairs with different women, from different walks of life. He becomes a heavy drinker and is expelled from college. He becomes too focus on self destruction, he was not able to create or focus on his artwork. He tries to quite smoking and drinking. But struggles terribly.

He marries a young girl, who tries to encourage him to stop drinking and for awhile it works. And for a moment Ōba is happy. The two both marry and move in together.

🥀

The Third Notebook: Part Two

Working as a cartoon and sober, Ōba feels somber toward marriage life. He thinks of his wife as native and innocent. But he falls into bad habits once he is visited by an old friend named Horiki, who (with Ōba) witnesses Ōba's wife being sexually assaulted by an associate friend.

Ōba begins to blame himself, as well as his wife and becomes manic and fills himself with alcohol and is committed into a mental hospital. After leaving his wife for another woman.

This parts ends with him being brought to a home that his brother purchased for him and given the money he needed for living and personal interest. Ōba is left feeling empty and recounts his choices and views of hisself.

🥀

Epilogue

We are then given the prospective of an outsider, who wanted to meet Ōba but fails. He then meets a friend of Ōba and she gives him the three notebooks. The man is intrigued by the notebooks and decides to publish them. We are left with a reflects of Ōba's friend telling us that he was a kind and gentle soul, who made everyone laugh and smile.

🥀

My Final Thoughts

I believe this is one of the greatest books that I have read. I love the rawness of this book and I adore how the events were true. I feel that Osamu Dazai was a great writer and his death is very unfortunate. I find the way he told his life very interesting and beautiful and poetic. I wish I was able to meet him and praise him for being an amazing artist and writer. But the result would probably remain the same. There is so much that we can learn from Osamu and his life. His perception on life and people is very interesting and a very rare viewpoint on life.

I highly suggest that everyone checkout this novel and spread the works of Asian Literature.

Thanks For Listening.

-𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓻 𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓮

Chandler Wilde