Eccentric Flower:199907/Folktales magistrates and modern heroes

Oh, I got so much Kennedy mail today I can't even begin to summarize it, but it was all excellent, regardless of its point of view. The interesting thing is that this seems to be a polarizing issue - or maybe I polarized it by being so inflammatory to begin with. But (in general, and oversimplifying) everyone was either defensive of the Kennedys or abusive toward them. Either you believe they're national legends in a country hungry for some myths of its own (to paraphrase what Marc said), or you wish they'd either continue to "autodarwinate" (I got that word from Dan Lyke) or at least stay out of your media.

Needless to say, I think both ends of that spectrum are a bit extreme, but in general I tend more toward the I Don't Want Any end. But, you know what? I realized today that it's not just Kennedys - I feel that way about the rich and famous of all stripes. They are not my sort of heroes. They are not the people I venerate.

Since I said the other day that I don't venerate athletes either, perhaps it is more germane to say who some of my heroes are. Let me work on that and I'll get back to you. It's not that I don't have any, it's that I don't want to make the list right now.

And I don't want to talk about Kennedys anymore either. So I am officially Moving On.

Let's talk about cheery things and dispel Mr. Storm Cloud from where he's been hovering over this journal for the last few days.

Lest you think that my life is gloom and doom, let me point out that yesterday, after my Low Ebb, I:
- went out to Brookline to see Marc's latest works in clay - amazing stuff!
- went to Ginza with Nonelvis and Judy and had excellent sushi
- went to Barnes and Noble, which I dislike, but I had a $50 gift certificate from Christmas I still hadn't redeemed. I bought some other goodies but mostly I bought more folktales. A book of Russian ones and a book of Japanese ones. One can never have too many folktales.

I've been reading these Swedish ones. Some of them are the same as tales in East O'the Sun, West O'the Moon, which is meant to be a children's book, and, you know what? The children's versions have been cleaned up a wee tad. Not sex per se, but, um, a rather low streak of humor - fart jokes and ass jokes and so forth. Well, I suppose it wasn't really a surprise - the Swedes like a crude rib-slapper as much as the next folks. The Japanese tales are really crude in this way - some of these have bowel jokes which would curl your hair. That was a surprise, as in my modern experience the Japanese don't like to mention, much less tell stories about, bodily functions.

I can't find the Japanese book I really want, which is a collection of "magistrate tales" - these were parables, to help demonstrate to magistrates how to judge wisely. The only collection I've ever seen of them was a Scholastic book, for kids but still excellent. I've never forgotten it. I'm sure someone's collected them for adults and/or scholars somewhere.

One I remember, just to give you an example, and of course told in my own indiscreet fashion:

A poor young student lived in a rented room above the store of a pickle merchant. The student was so poor that his only food each day was a single bowl of rice. Every evening at dusk he would partake of his bowl of rice reverently and slowly.

Even though hunger is the best sauce, the hungriest of men would eventually tire of such a monotonous diet. The student, unable to afford variety, soon developed a habit of sitting where he could smell the merchant's pungent wares while he ate his rice. In this way the smell enlivened the taste of his rice, and made his dull meals that much better.

One day the student made the error of discussing this habit of his with a friend while within the merchant's hearing. Now it must be said that this merchant was a greedy sort of fellow. The idea of the student inhaling the odor of his pickles for free outraged him, and it developed that he had the terrified student dragged into court, claiming that he was owed recompensation for his odors.

The magistrate thought it over. He said to the student, "Have you any money at all on your person?"

"Y-yes, Your Honor," the student said, "I have several silver coins. But I need them for this month's rent! -"

"Take them from your pocket. Yes, very good," said the magistrate. "Now let them fall into your other hand. Once more, I believe." The coins made a very pleasant noise as they dropped against each other. "Thank you," the magistrate said. "I rule that your debt has been paid."

"Paid?" bellowed the merchant. "I have received nothing!"

"On the contrary," said the magistrate. "It is my considered judgment that henceforth in this prefect, the payment for the smell of food shall be the sound of money. Next case, please!" he said to the court attendant.

Nonelvis went on a book spree too. She has only comparatively recently discovered Dorothy Sayers and the amazing Lord Peter Wimsey. Now she is busily buying the ones I don't have - there were two I'd never read, and several I'd read but hadn't ever purchased. I read Nine Tailors again last night, start to finish. I'd forgotten just how excellent this book is. It makes up for the sour taste Mike Resnick left - Don't worry, Jette and Mary Anne, I'll get to that in jig time.

But not next entry. In that, I have some journals and such I want to link to.