While in school one is forced to read many lectures. Some of those are interesting, some not. It’s a problem that happens with everything – if someone forces you to like what he likes, or what he thinks is good for you – you’ll always rebel, if but a little. “Lalka” (“The Doll”) by Bolesław Prus is a school lecture, and because of that, many pupils hate it. It’s presented to those pupils, while they are at their peak interest of celebrity pop stars, engaging TV shows with special effects and action, and when their biggest concert is if they will have enough money to party all the time.

And there’s another kind of readers – those who treat this book as one of their all time favourites. I count among those. It’s not just that. I also thing this is the best Polish novel ever written.

Just some explanations regarding pronounciation – there will be a lot of Polish names in the text below. Ł (dashed L) in “Stanisław” whould be read like English W (and “W” is V) so “Stanisław” is “Staniswav” and “Wokulski” is “Vokulski”. RZ and Ż (dotted Z) are like French “J” (Jean-Baptiste e.g.), so “Rzecki” is “Jaecki”.  “Ą and Ę are nasal vowels, very hard for English speakers, but natural for French and Japanese. “Ą” is like on in the French pronounciation of  “mon”,  and “Ę” like the pronounciation of French department of Ain.  “C” is like “TS” so “Łęcka”  is “Waintskah” (“A” is alsways “AH”). “SZ” is like English “SH”: “Szuman” is “Shuman”. Masculine and feminine forms of names is something completely exotic for an English-speaker, but know that if Rzecki had a wife she would be named Rzecka, and  analogically Starski would be married to Starska and Mincel to Minclowa,and Łęcka’s father is Łęcki 🙂 If you want to dig deeper , be prepared for a hard time :). One last thing – ski and -cki suffixes are the same location based naming patterns as “von” in German, “van” in Dutch, “de” in French and of in English, but made distinct adjectives. Wokulski = “of Wokulsk”. 

There are some spoilers in the text below, but these should not affect the joy of reading, if you haven’t done so already.

The story takes place around year 1872 and follows the lives of two main protagonists – Stanisław Wokulski, a nobleman from an impoverished family, with interests in science,  and Ignacy Rzecki, an old-timer, remembering the People’s Spring in which he fought. Wokulski was also a freedom-fighter. You must know, that in 19th century Poland was partitioned between 3 occupants – Russia, Prussia and Austria, and effectively, it dissapeared from the maps. But Poles never accepted it, and from time to time, an uprising started to fight agains the occupants. Stanisław fought in 1863 January Uprising , then he was captured and sent to a labor camps of Siberia. Strong and intelligent, he returned, but with frostbitten, reddish hands, betraying his fate and frowned upon in salons of greater aristocracy. Wokulski is a product of two epochs, romanticism ending and slowly starting modernism, which in Poland was called positivism . This is the first (of many…) tragical conflic our main protagonist has.

We learn of Ignacy Rzecki, the subject shopkeeper, from his diaries mostly. The awkward old man, with an unfashionable green jacket and old trousers, the perfectionist shop manager is a true romantic, deeply in his heart. He has a dog and play the guitar while being alone, he imbibes from time to time with several friends, remembering old times. He uses to play with the toys in the shop he governs And he’s deeply sentimental about the Mincel (polonized, from German  “Minzel”) family, the original owners of the shop, who raised him, taught him all he knows about his trade, and changed his life forever. Ignacy believes strongly that all pains will be resolved by one of the Napoleon’s dynasty, a theory much ridiculed by cynical and realistic people.

After Wokulski returns from his imprisonment he is employed in the Mincel shop and its owner –  an old lady, Małgorzata Minclowa (a form of “Mincel” name, Polish is a hard language.. :)) fells deeply in love with Stanisław. He’s so powerless and has a chronical depression at the time, he agrees to marry her. Not from greed, but because he feels he owes her for taking care of him. This marriage, forced upon himself, is a hellish prison for him, especially while Małgorzata starts to be psychotically jelous of him. But he never does anything improper nor antyhing to hurt her. When Małgorzata dies, she leaves him all her wealth and the shop. Stanisław is indifferent to that fact, but soon something lifechanging for him happens.

Stanisław meets Izabela Łęcka, of an aristocrat Łęcki family, a beauty of the high circles, and he insanely, madly falls in love with her. Suddenly, he finds an unbelievable power reserves in himself and, to win her over, he starts amassing wealth. He builds a network of trade contacts, even participates in weapon trade, and soon he’s the owner of the most known shopping mall in Warsaw,  with a lot of money for other investments. He is also considered as a main president of the joint venture aristocracy wants to invest in. Friends warn him that aristocracy is capricious and will never treat him as one of his own, but he’s blind the warnings. For him its one step closer towards Izabela.

But, on his mad chase for Izabela, the femme fatale (who secretly despises him but, knowing her father has business with Wokulski, never does anything to stop Stanisław’s worship) he never forgets who he is – a deeply moral and commpassionate romantic. Wokulski embodies the Polish idea of “praca u podstaw” (“the work at the basis”) which is philantropy, educating the uneducated, creating the jobs to revitalize the society and spend energy for the needing, so they could take care after themselves. He helps a lot of people in the book, he helps Ignacy Ochocki, the aristocrat- inventor, to pursue his dream of the flying machines, he helps an ex-prostitute to become a profiting seamstress, he helps the driver Wysocki when his horse dies, and then his brother the train conductor, when he loses his job, he helps the sculptor and a jack-of-all-trades Węgiełek to build his own workshop. Overwhelmed by his feelings towards toxic Izabela Łęcka, he’s ignorant to the fact of how many people genuinely love him and worship him as their benefactor. He builts up an army of devoted common people around him.

Then another woman appears in his life, Helena Stawska, a struggling woman, a mother of a child taking care of her own mother as well. I think Prus unknowingly and accidentaly was one of the first writers to actually invent moe and its effects. Because Stawska is like a perfect moe girl, in all those chauvinistic aspects. She perceives Wokulski as a demigod, a man above all men, especially after Wokulski helps her to resolve the matter of her missing husband and after helping her while she was wrongly accused of stealing by baroness Krzeszowska. She’s beautiful, willing and insanely in love with Wokulski, which is empowered by the fact Wokulski genuinely likes her daughter and likes to spend time with Stawska’s family – he, the rich genleman, in her eyes far above her in social standing.

But Wokulski is drawn towards Łęcka, like a moth towards the candle flame. He doesn’t want to listen to Rzecki’s words, he doesn’t want to listen to Dr Szuman, a Jewish physician and his friend, btw, a brilliant guy and my favourite character, the cynical man who learned all there is to learn about humanity, or even Ochocki – real friends who want to warn him and save him from the devious lady. Nothing helps him elevate his social standing really, even the help of the high aristocrat, an ex lover of his late uncle, countess Zasławska.

The aristocracy mocks him when he’s not listening. He’s even challenged to a duel which he wins, much to amazement of aristocracy that a “mere shopkeeper can shoot like that”.

Then another woman appears – a young widow Kazimiera Wąsowska, an aristocrat. Oh how I love that character. In fact, Kazimiera shaped a view of the perfect woman in my eyes. She’s rebellious, strong, a beautiful  feminist using and mocking men. Intelligent, cultural, declassing all aristocrats, shining very brightly. The ultimate moe for me. She’s flirtatious, knows her feminine strengths, but finding Wokulski  intelligent and resistant, deeply moral and hopelessly in love, she falls in love with him. In true love, she tries to help him to win over Izabela, while hurting at the same time. One of the last dialogues between Wokulski and Wąskowska is my favourite part of the book 🙂

While wrting this text I did a quick sanity check on myself and I can see that majority of women of my life were femme fatales (because they either were real femme fatales or I was immature or egoistic at times – depends) – my failures while trying to find another Wąsowska 🙂

Then the fateful moment comes, when Łęcka, wrongly assuming Wokulski knows French and Russian but doesn’t know English, flirts with Starski and denigrates Wokulski on the train while all three are sitting in the same compartment. Wokulski learned English as yet another skill required to concquer the heart of the sarcastic and arrogant Łęcka, he leaves the train, telling Izabela “Farewell, Miss Iza” in English and then he attempts to commit suicide by laying down on the railway. Just in time to be saved by the conductor Wysocki, the brother of the driver Wysocki, and one of those people Wokulski helped before.

The last pages of the book are a material to ponder on a lot. No more spoilers, but know there’s a discussion around it for tens of years now, generally divided on interpretation of Wokulski’s fate (it’s curious…). But it’s not the only thing that makes one ponder. The author outrun his own epoch, for sure. Well, Bolesław Prus was known as a weird man that tested the first velocipeds (an early form of bicycle) in Łazienki Royal Palace Garden in Warsaw,  when these were just an oddity. Just imagine lords and ladies having a walk and a gentleman pedalling between them and shouting at them to move aside 🙂 Completely outrageous. There’s a science-fiction element to the book as well – two subjects intertwine in “Lalka” – the search for metal lighter than the air, and the flying machines. Wokulski, as a chemist himself, funds the research on the subject and is a big fan of baloon rides. He often meets wich Ochocki to discuss science and inventions.

So, apart from a perfect painting of the social strata of 19th century Europe, in which an average, but famous celebrity musician (like Molinari in the book) can access the aristocracy’s higher salons, but an impoverished nobleman has their door shut and barred for him, Prus painted also another views: middle class and the poorest: their daily lives, their problems and lifestyle in the epoch of mercantilism and imperialism.  The insecurity of the working class, the struggle for employment and the power of money – it’s all in the book.

And then there’s a socio-political element  in the book also.  The book features characters of many nationalities (Poles, Germans, Russians, French, English, Italian..), focusing several beautifully created Jewish charactes as well. Prus, through dr Szuman, a mentor-thinker type, analyses the rising anti-semitism with a horrendous accuracy. In fact, the author wanted to warn people of the possible holocaust, 70 years before it actually happened, and step by step – shows a pattern how humanity can reach that lowest of the stages.  Then there’s a family of Szlangbaum, a merchant. The young Szlangbaum is Wokulski’s friend, while the old one is a seasoned trader and businessman. These examples show the unity and intelligence of Jews, who are able to survive among not so friendly environment, but, as Szuman warns: the artificial antisemitism, fueled by Russian occupants by giving Jews better business and living condition than the Poles, will have a backlash (pogroms will follow…) will take its toll on Jews as well, promoting those who are ruthless, surviving businessmen.

The patriotic element is there, of course, as well. In fact, majority of the Polish literature has this element. This nation was in so many wars and struggled through so many occupations, way of Polish thinking is… Spartan. Combat, patriotism, sacrifice, defiance – these are Polish words, one might say. But Prus shows futility and destructivness of some patriotic actions, shows how stupid sometimes it is to fight, which leads only to destruction at times. Yet, as in the fairy tale about the tortoise and the scorpion, one cannot change one’s own nature. So, the echoes and the toll of Napoleon campaigns, Uprisings (1831 and 1863) and the Spring of Nations (1846-48) are visible in the book.

There were two TV series/movie adaptations (here and here) of “Lalka”. Both are critically acclaimed, but my favourite is the TV series with Jerzy Kamas as Wokulski and Małgorzata Braunek as Izabela Łecka. A brilliant show.

Like I said, this is the best Polish novel ever written. And that’s said by a guy who thinks Marcel Proust’s work as one of the best novels ever written on the globe. That tells a lot. If you are in the market for the slice of life, 19th century style, food-for-thoughts – search no longer.

The world knows J.R.R Tolkien’s “Hobbit” very well at this point. The story depicting how Bilbo Baggins travels with the dwarves and the wizard to defeat the malicious dragon and finds the One Ring in the process is deeply rooted in popculture. There were movies showing it to the wider audience, and a lot of people has read the book. In many schools reading “The Hobbit” was mandatory. From the tolkienist’s (myself being one) point of view the book is no longer a children fantasy book, but of course fits to the greater picture of the whole Arda saga (with “The Silmarillion”, “The Lord of the Rings” “The unfinished tales” and “The lost tales”). I have often heard an opinion it being the “ultimate fantasy book for children” wich always puts a grin on my face. As much as I love Tolkien’s works, I know better literature than “The Hobbit” .  For example Tove Jannson’s “The Moomintrolls”, but I wanted to show you something different today.

“The kidnapping of Baltazar Gąbka” by Stanisław Pagaczewski is the first book of the trilogy. And it is a masterpiece, far exceeding “The Hobbit” and the other similar works. Althought a different setting, there are similarities allowing the comparison of those books. While “The Hobbit” uses the germanic legends as the basis of its storytelling (with all the  post-Burgundian clumsiness of the Nibelungenlied and epic-like approach of the Norse sagas), “The Kidnapping of Balthazar Gąbka” (I will shorten both to “H” and “BG” in this text) focuses on the Lesser Poland’s legends surrounding the royal city of Kraków. Both books feature dragons  =- there’s Smaug in the “H” and Smok Wawelski (The Wawel Hill Dragon) in the “BG” but their role is completely different. There’s a journey “back and there again” in both books – it’s Bilbo Baggins who travels to Erebor in the “H” while Smok Wawelski goes to adventure of releasing professor Gąbka from the custody of the Raindwellers. Both Bilbo and Smok are acompanied by skilled companions, some recruited along the way. Both feature different “literary biomes” as I tend to call them – multiple areas or “zones” (a gaming term) with distinct literary characteristics (“H”‘s Mirkwood and Misty Mountains, “BG”‘s lands of the Sundwellers and Raindwellers)- a typical mythological approach. There’s far more similarities. But there are some distinctive differences too.

The reality of the “BG” is less fixed on the sagas and the legendary stuff and is not a literary experiment for adult professors of literature . It’s a children’s fantasy novel, so it uses the full spectrum of tools to give the engaging, intellectual, but fun, material for the younger reader. So there’s a mythical Duke Krak who’s sending Smok on a journey, but Smok is a gentleman here, not a monster, a crossover between the Sherlock Holmes, James Bond and Arsene Lupin but far more positive, encompassing the gentleman virtues of the man of 1950’s. Smok is given an car and a personal cook, Bartłomiej Bartollini, an Italian maestro of cooking, who uses his barbecue spit as a weapon. The book sets boundaries for its setting but does not set any boundaries for the imagination. The younger reader, after a dozen of pages, starts to have a feeling that anything can happen and anything is possible in this book, and craves for more. The book survives also adult’s eye surprisingly well, in fact, far better than the “H” does.

Pagaczewski masterfully manipulated emotions of his readers. I rember how outraged I was as a kid, when I first learned of the attempted poisoning of the Smok that Raindweller spy, Don Pedro, attempted with the toadstool mushroom jam. Treacherous, shady character who in turn gets recruited into the company  (Gollum in “The Lord of the Rings” (not in the “H”) has the same impact, although Don Pedro is far more likeable). Polish experiences of the author with various dictatorships (Nazi and communist) also added to the picture. I remember I was genuinely unsettled and I had the feeling I was being watched for a week after the section in which prof. Baltazar buys the rainmuffins in Raindweller bakery from Mżawka (eng. “Drizzle”) and then learned that Mżawka is actually Agent Mżawka reporting every action of the professor to the secret police HQ. I was genuinely scared of the Great Raindweller (remember the Great Goblin from the “H”?).

One of my favourite sections, remembered after 3 decades after reading of the book is the moment when Smok and company are in the jungle, inhabited by monkeys and okropiki (eng:”Hideousies”). You see, there was a traveler to that jungle before, who died unfortunately and both okropiki and monkeys rummaged through his rucksack. They found two books. Monkeys found the physics book while okropiki a tome of poetry.  That’s why it’s not weird when you learn the friendly monkey’s name is Interference. But’s okropiki who are greater here: I will never forget that one okropik, who, after piercing the gas tank of the Smok’s car, turns around and declares “I am as an arrow submerging in the gardens of peace!” and then “Time of the craddling comes!”. 🙂

The “BG” is in fact a trilogy. Professor Gąbka is released from custody of the Raindwellers and the Raindweller regime falls to be replaced by democratic Raindweller government of Salamandrus, Gąbka’s political co-prisoner. Mżawka and the Great Raindweller are prisoners in Kraków but they manage to escape. The hunt for them is the subject of the second book, as well as the scientific journey of Professor and Smok.

The third book is different. Our heroes, through hibernation, wake up in 1960’s Poland. The book is a very sad, deeply sentimental work, the longing for the old times. Our heroes try to fit into the new, grim and dull, reality but they somewhat fail, unable to find the charm of the lost epochs.Where Rowling ultimately failed with what she wanted to achieve with the feeling about “muggles”, Pagaczewski succeded. The book is a good-bye from the author,

There was a brilliant and very faithful animation series produced by Polish animation studios, that can still be found on YouTube (in Polish).

There’s one more book that imediately follows the “BG” as better than the “H. “Karolcia” (“The Little Caroline”) by Maria Kruger. The child fantasy following the crazy ride of a girl who finds a mysterious round, shiny bead, hunted by an evil sorceress. The bead, not unlike to the One Ring, has many powers, and Karolcia uses those powers to escape the Sorceress. The Frodo’s escape from the Ringwraiths had the same emotional power reserves as Karolcia.

So, if you are a fantasy fan, have kids, and say that “The Hobbit” is the best for you kids, think again. Read Tove Jannson, Stanisław Pagaczewski and Maria Kruger first.

Well, I mentioned Mr Poe before, but there’s definitely much more to be said of the author. It is difficult to write about known authors, especially those who are taught at school in many countries (not Poland, Poe is briefly mentioned only, but it’s understandable with the plethora of Polish masters of literature starting from early medieval times to this days, and then European masters…), because it’s really hard to tell anything new about works and the author. But if I learned anything at all from Tadeusz Boy-Żeleński, the famous Polish writer and critic, is that analysis of any masterpiece is an unending processes. One uncovers layer after layer of meaning and content, without end.

We all probably know Poe for the master and the progenitor of modern horror stories. Some, perhaps, know him for his grim depictions of passionate, ill, abusive and obsessive love. Popculture absolutely and completely aligns him with his parody of romanticism “The Raven” poem is.  I think what is worth showing is how Poe excelled at every subject he touched.

First of all. The language. I am not a native English speaker (which you can probably already tell by my silly, overlooked writing mistakes or funny constructions I’ve been using in this blog) yet I am able to fully enjoy and evaluate the style and the quality of English Poe used in his works. Shortly: he used the writen language medium perfectly. Enveloping human emotions, psychological states and unspoken fears was always the function of poetry, yet Poe was able to encapsulate those in prose, convincingly. This alone is a tremendous achievement. Psychological study of Poe’s characters is flawless and the climate of the spoken phrases and depictions of the surroundings paints the picture in the way brains of readers are able to immediately grasp the concept and paint every scene acurately with reader’s own imagination.

Then there are psychology and empathy. Yes, these two factors determined the authors ability to tell those stories in such convincing and interesting manner. A reader, who heard about Poe but did not read his works yet, almost always starts reading it convinced what he is about to consume is a supernatural horror. A story after story one discovers that it is not the case, or not fully, perhaps. Majority of the thrills produced by Mr Edgar comes from psychological anguish alone.  Just think about “The Pit and the Pendulum”, one of the best known stories Poe created.  It tells about the torture inflicted on a prisoner enslaved by the Spanish Inquisition, locked in the pitch black cell, with a seemingly botomless pit in the middle. There’s nothing supernatural in this one, yet readers own empathy frightens and shocks from the very start to the very end. It’s easy to reconstruct the feelings  of a prisoner, when he uses an animal fat on his hand bonds to allow rats in the cell to bite through them. Rats of course bite his hands as well… The effect is similar to the effect of the Room 101 from Orwell’s “1984”… In Poe’s works a natural phobias sometimes s e e m supernatural, to the point both the reader and the narrator are unable to tell what is truth and what is not, what is real. It’s like a self generated schizophrenia, that comes from a natural brain function – the function allowing us to convince ourselves we see things (think Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” and the ghost case).

Another example of psychological artistry is “The Barrel of Amontillado”, which allows us to study the development of a mortal grudge, of the cunning vendetta, carefully preserved hate which ends up with a cruel, unbelievable murder. What matters is that when the murder happens a reader both is shocked and sympathizes with an executioner rather than the victim. Poe allows us to feel the murderers reasons, and that’s the main source of the horror for the reader here. Oh how I often hear things like “I wouldn’t do such horrible things” or “only deviants could do it” when speaking about war atrocities, for example. Poe understood perfectly that everyone could and can do it, it’s just a matter of cioincidence mixed with a specific context. Again, humans are machines and will act like machines very often. It’s in our genes and that really makes us afraid of ourselves.

Want to argue on this? Deal with the consequences of the Zimbardo experiment first.

One could say Poe’s characters are overpassionate, in the romanticism style of character building. They have far too many internal monologues, are being torn by too many contradicting emotions. It’s a valid point, however consider this: in the last 10000 years people don’t change, what changes is their surroundings – technology and context. I am saying this after studying historical eras and people throughout the history for 30+ years now. It’s so important let me put it again:

People don’t change. Only context and technology does.

That means you and me are not different from people living 1000 years ago. Our problems are different because a Norse warrior didn’t have to worry about a fuel pump, obviously, but he was equally concerned about the board pegs of his longboat.

We often think such monologues are archaic and very awkward, but we do exactly the same thing when we face any difficult problem. And when one compares what e.g. one feels in difficult situations to the feelings of Poe’s characters it’s immediately visible how brilliant the author was.

Then there’s climate of the stories. I said Poe’s depictions are a food for thought and allow brains to immediately depict the scene. Grimdark mansions, brick walls, dunk, wet cellars,  an uneven cobblestone, sweaty clothes, musky earth and a decomposing corpse… He was able to put it all there to his works, and the reader, often disgusted, can feel it.

Poe wrote a great deal about love, but he treats this state also clinically. Love in Edgar’s works is obsessive, dark, bordering with unhealthy desires and insanity. Love clinically is very similar to illness and it can be seen in e.g. “Berenice” and the narrator’s fixation about Berenice’s teeth…

Other love related works like “Ligeia” and “Morella” that deal with a drama of a loss of a loved one. And yet again, the psychological trauma borders with supernatural, with Ligeia’s transformations, Morella’s dying twice.  Emotional exhaustion of the narrator and stages of grief he faces make the border between reality and delusion to dissapear.

I named Poe the “minstrel of the darkest love” once and I still continue to do so.

Then there’s the “Poe, the science fiction” writer. Before Julius Verne it was Poe who fantasized about the balloon travels to unreachable places (“The Baloon Hoax”)  or exploring the poles of the Earth (“A Descent into the Maelström”). Some concepts he was writing about in those sci-fi works are awkward today (the same way robots from 50’s sci fi films are awkward to us, metallic cans walking strangely..) but the way his logic worked is flawless and should be applauded.

Poe, the cryptographer and a mathematician, is also worth mentioning. In “The Gold Bug” I adore very much, he actually describes how the Viegenere’s method works, in an “Indiana Jones-like” adventure.

Are you a programmer, like yours truly? Take a look at some code if you’re curious 🙂

I will briefly remind you again that detective stories would not be the same today if not for Poe.

Poe, the romanticist… Well that’s a hillarious one because “The Raven” is a response to the fellow writers who accused Edgar of being unable to write according to epoch’s decorum. He proved them wrong, used the trochaic octameter in 18 stanzas each 6 lines long, with a subject mocking the era a little.  Funny thing is trochaic octameter is characteristic to Polish literature mainly and to Polish romanticism. That’s makes “The Raven” sound very nice for a Polish reader 🙂 Duh!

The doomsday feeling in “The Fall of House of Usher”  and “The Masque of Red Death” affects many other works, including my beloved World of Darkness franchise I wrote about before. When we’re at it, think about how colourful are Poe’s work. In “The Masque of the Red Death” he uses colours to depict the various chambers of the mansions, but also the stages of the illness, the epidemy that is about to kill everyone. The same goes for “Morella” and the narrator observation of the colours on the face of a dying woman. The realism of colours in Poe alone is worth consuming his works in full.

And there’s my game – the game I am currently implementing and I will write about some more in the future, heavily inspired by Poe’s works. Is there a bigger homage than a pupil wanting to be like the tutor?

From the earliest days of my life, even before I learned how to read properly, I was conditioned by my parents towards the specific view of Japanese culture. You see, it was still before the event of the Round Table discussions, and the life in Poland was circulating around the Central European style, with scarce amount of western culture influences. As rich as the culture is (1000+ years of literary and art history of Poland makes it one of the culturally richest countries in Europe) the exposure to western or far eastern lifestyles was limited.

Being in the Warsaw Pact had one drawback – everything that was from the “imperialist” zone of influence was considered inferior. Literally: “why are you using this west-german junk, buy Soviet Junost TV set instead” was a common discussion between tech-savvy people for some time. Everything was political. The point of view also included Japan (although I’ve seen one or two Hitachi radios at the time..), with its culture alien to Poles for a long time. That was about to change…

About the Polish-Japanese relations. After II World War Poles knew Japanese were an Axis power, and therefore, an enemy. Before that, there were some diplomatic relations that did not fruit any cultural exchange. There was one Japanese person and a one Pole that made some difference.  Major Fukushima Yasumasa was probably the very first Japanese to ever visit Poland, and he composed the “Porando kaiko” (“The memory of Poland”) popular poem and later a song,  known to this day. The second, was a brother of marshall Józef Piłsudski – Bronisław Piłsudski, the man that saved the Ainu people of Hokkaido culture from extinction. Nothing more than that.

Akira Kurosawa was well known, shown in the old movie block of Polish TV (“The Pearls of Old”) which had only 1 channel at the time (2nd channel was added some time after the 1st), but the ideas presented by Kurosawa were sometimes too alien to understand for a viewer, even though Kurosawa used also Shakespearean storylines in his works (“Ran”, “The throne of blood”).

And then, in the 80s, someone decided it’s a good idea to show a TV show “Shogun” to the Polish receiver. No one could foresee what impact it had on an unknowing viewer. After the emission almost all magazines started publishing ladies in kimonos, which were carefully cut out with scissors and used do decorate one’s kitchens (I remember my grandma doing this). Everyone was talking about samurai.

And this caused to yours truly, 4 years old Northon, to be dressed by his parents for a kindergarten ball (during which everybody else was either a princess, a cowboy or an American Indian archer) like this:

Yeah, I am saying I might be biased a little while talking about the “Shogun”. The TV series was (and stil is) a magnificent show, but it’s the book that matters for me. I started my first reading of the “Shogun” around 1995 and it was so immersive and so consuming, I remember just sitting there during school holidays and reading the thing, heavily supplied with delicious Kuyavian bread with butter and plum marmelade and a teapot with Indus tea, to eat something from time to time while reading.

I might be more than biased, because even now when I think of the book I can remember the taste of that delicious marmelade…

The book tells the story of an English sailor John Blackthorne (lossely based on the historical figure of Will Adams), one of the leaders of the expedition to find the western route to Japan. After landing he and the Dutch crew find out Japan is heavily influenced by Portugese Jesuit monks, which immediately leads to imprisonment of the protestant crew for piracy. John, being a brave and a very intelligent person, manages to convince the daymyos (lords) one by one that he can be a valuable asset,  a wildcard in the domestic war of Sengoku Jidai. Kasigi Yabu, the bloodthirsty daymyo, wants to gain superiority by naval power and he wants to use Blackthorne, an excellent pilot and shipbuilder, as an asset. But then, Toranaga Yoshi, based on Tokugawa Ieyasu, appears, claiming Blackthorne from Yabu. Toranaga is a patient sage, not only a lord an a warrior – he’s a person Sun Tzu would think of as of a perfect pupil of his works. The moment in which Blackthorne boldly expresses to Toranaga, that there’s one excuse for rebellion against a liege lord – a victory over him, is the moment Toranaga sees Blackthorne in a different light. Blackthorne becomes an Anjin-san, a Sir Pilot of Toranaga. More than that, the relation between Toranaga and Anjin-san becomes more and more…friendly. They dance together, swim together and speak together.

Then there are Ishido, the Toranaga’s nemesis, Portugese with their political and religious schemes, christian daymyos… The war is bloodthirsty and lasting for decades now, so expect many heads falling down from their necks.

Oh, there are ninjas there too. Did I mentioned the ninjas?

Initially Anjin-san doesn’t know Japanese, so everything is translated by a Portugese monk (and Blackthorne’s nemesis) Tsukku-san, until Anjin-san protests against biased translation. Then Toranaga introduces Mariko-san, a beautiful lady of the court, a catholic, as his translator.

Mariko-san forever changed my view on women. The thing is she’s a Japanese woman as Japanese society expects her to be (calm, and bowing always..), but only as her tatemae (the facade). Truth is, she’s a last member of a rebellious family, that never forgiven for her family’s demise and the loathing she received after the rebellion. She’s strong and magnificent. She’s uncontrollable and brilliant. Toranaga sees that, and he makes her his most important asset.

That’s also why Blackthorne finds her mesmerizing. That’s why she, the only Japanese person in the book, is able to understand the western idea of love.

Their romance is one of the most beautiful and emotionally engaging romances in literature, and they are probably the best written couple ever in my eyes. Oh the sweet drama! She has a bloodthirsty elite samurai husband who beats her and looks for an occasion to slaughter Blackthorne, Japanese society doesn’t look kind to barbarians, and yet they are together, against all odds. The Japanese concept of sex and how important it is in social terms only spices up things. Then there’s a number of dramatic events during which a reader would just like to drop the book and somehow go and hug them/pat their backs.

The thing is Clavell’s experiences with Japan are complicated. He was an Allied soldier, captured by Japanese during II WW and imprisoned in Singapore in P.O.W. camp, which caused him to write his bestseller “King Rat” (tbh whatever Clavell wrote was a bestseller, really..). Yet he was able to write about Japanese like no other western author. With amazement and the need to explain their culture and motives. And he succeded.

The “Shogun” is a novel about Japan and the Japanese, and reading it made me enter the path of slowly understanding the people – the path I follow to this day. This was probably one of Clavell’s masterplans – force reader to follow Anjin-san on his mentality-changing experience and become less gaijin and more – samurai.

But most of all – it’s one of the most important books of my life.

The problem of being overwhelmed by the information chaos these days affects literature (and the whole storytelling world) deeply. Never before in any age of humankind were humans so exposed to the neverending flow of information. The stream of data no human being is able to fully grasp and process. Being overwhelmed with the news coming in from various sources (often contradictory), publishers flooding the market with new movies, games, books, we engage our defense mechanisms to remain sane. We start to filter everything with the coinstrain of the smallest amount of energy needed for that filtering as an expense. In other words – we became lazy and picky.

The problem is even bigger when one notices the quality of the works today is worse than several decades ago. From the publisher’s point of view though, times never been better because for them quantity trumps the quality – it’s easier to manipulate the prices in the world of information chaos, and if you have big data tools like certain companies, then you already have won the race.

Far to often I pick the book praised by the sellers and readers alike these days, to find out it’s shallow, made entirely of well known and worn off tropes, using combinatorics as a way of developing a story and completely unworthy of my time. For example, in the current world overflood with zombie content, there are only 2 zombie related titles in all industries (game, movie, book, comicbook etc) that are worth something in my oppinion. And I am not talking about the “Walking Dead” here – this one is as bad as the others.

You know what? I think I’ll start describing the whole problem as a “zombie effect of storytelling” from now on.

In such perilous times I tend to look back at the books I read before and those I missed. I turn to classics for a solution for my hunger.  And in the most perilous times, when I need the immediate storytelling injection I tend to re-read the stories that proven valuable and worthy.

Roger Zelazny’s “Amber” saga is one of safe bets here.

Zelazny was a very known author in my salad days. He was considered to be one of the masters of the fantasy/sci-fi genre. It’s kinda sad to see him today known by many only as “G.R.R. Martin’s friend from the Santa Fe writing circle”.  It’s probably also because Zelazny created many of those tropes freely used these days in “zombie effect” affected works, and it’s really hard to distinguish the originality of his works.

The “Amber” saga is epic. It’s a story of intertwining worlds, a multiverse of realities , but fake realities. There is only one true reality there, Amber. All others are but a reflection, combinatorics affected constructs, a “zombie effect” worlds if you will. Of course these are sometimes interesting, sometimes ridiculous, but the point is, they exist. And they seem to becreated and  governed by some cosmic order there.

Nothing further from the truth. It’s chaos that rules everything here. Or rather, Chaos I should say, because Chaos itself becomes entity in the saga. The mathematical idea of fractal functions affects also these story deeply, and one of the most important points in the story is the inability of the protagonist to understand the patterns the Chaos is generating. Or rather, a Pattern – an incomprehensible fractal knowing and understanding which promises godlike powers.

It’s not that our protagonists are without powers – in fact they are almost gods. They are immortal, and even unkillable at times. And they are filled with a hunger of power. In fact, the “Game of Thrones”, the overhyped (the book has a  great writing style, kudos to Martin, but the contents are just pointless, soap opera style pointless!) bestseller of the last decade, takes a lot from “Amber” (and remember Martin and Zelazny were buddies).  But when it comes to the story, “Amber” is much. much better in my eyes, to this very day.

The power struggle between the ruling family of “Amber” (including our main proagonist Corwin and later, Merlin) spreads across said realities, making the resolution of the conflict complicated. Defeated can retreat to some safe reality, regroup and plan a counterattack with usage of newly acquired resources. But that’s only the facade of the real conflict in the background and the real question arise the deeper one delves into the story. What at start is yet another fantastical conflict of demigods becomes a philosophical dispute.

Did you notice that every mythology constructed around gods, if consistent and complex enough, has to become a philosophical dispute?

I must say, that uncovering the layers of depth of the “Amber” saga is very rewarding, especially today, in the Age of Mediocrity.

Today, when we stumble upon magic in literary works, it just serves as a tool. We got used so much to fireballs, lightning bolts and adava kedavras there’s no more amazement, no more magic in magic. Harry Potter’s magic is just another way of shooting from AK-47 or using a pitchfork…

Heh, the “zombie effect era”, the Age of Mediocrity is also the “age of trivial fireballs”.

The “Amber” revives and keeps the magic alive.