Tag Archives: bibliography

why print?

I recently uploaded a new (and my first) resource to my site, a guide to print reference resources for Japanese humanities held by the University of Michigan. This guide was originally made for a reference class in 2008, so it’s about time that it saw the light of day. It certainly wasn’t doing much good sitting on my hard drive.

You might ask, though, on viewing this: Why would Molly make a resource guide for only print books? Aren’t they a little, well, archaic and outdated? Isn’t it more convenient to check out digital resources from the comfort of my own laptop, perhaps in bed? After all, there are fantastic reference resources – available through institutional subscription – such as the JapanKnowledge database that suit many needs, and bring together information from a wide variety of (originally) print sources and other databases. With something like JapanKnowledge, going to the Asia Library Reference Room and thumbing through dictionaries seems a little slow and pointless.

Let me tell you something. In the process of looking at the various humanities reference resources, for literature in particular, I found a large number of unique sources that aren’t available online. These range from the legendary Morohashi Dai kanwa jiten Chinese character dictionary to synopses and reception histories, guides to folk literature, a multi-lingual proverb dictionary (it has translations and annotations in Japanese, English, French, and German), and a guide to Buddhist terms found in Japanese literature that include the original Sanskrit and phrases from the classic literary works containing the terms.

Among the books that are entirely unique – an equivalent resource doesn’t exist in any other format (or, sometimes, language) – are a biographical dictionary of foreigners in Japan from the 1500s-1924, an annotated bibliography of translations into European languages dating from 1593-1912, an annotated bibliography of Japanese secondary sources on literary history published between 1955-1982, poetry indexes, and a dictionary of popular literature (taishū bungaku).

The process of making this bibliography was the pure joy of a scavenger hunt, and did I ever come up with a list of treasures. Leafing through a book of English-language synopses of untranslated Japanese work from the 19th-20th centuries may not sound exciting, but the fact that it exists as a quick reference resource for those looking to read some Meiji or Taishō literature is pretty amazing. I had a good time in the Reference Room finding these resources, and I’ve put some of them to very good use over the years.

Yes, I use digital resources; in fact, I couldn’t have come up with my dissertation topic without them. (As always, many thanks to the National Diet Library for the existence of the Kindai Digital Library.) But Japan is still a world of print – it’s nigh impossible to get a journal article in electronic form at this point – and, more importantly, print reference sources like these don’t go out of style. A guide to poetic allusions from the 1950s, or a popular literature dictionary from 1967, do not become outdated or irrelevant; we may wish for an update to the latter, but the information it provides is still valuable. Being able to use print reference works opens up a world of information to us by supplying that which has not been converted to database form.

Finally, why this guide? Is a guide coming for electronic resources? The short answer is, save for one-off blog posts, no. There are already so many excellent guides to electronic resources out there on the Web that my own meager contribution wouldn’t make much of a difference. The reason for this guide is that I haven’t found a good annotated bibliography of print reference books for Japanese literature specifically, and humanities more generally, that live at what used to be my own institution. I wanted to both know for myself, and share with others, what treasures were hiding on those rarely-used shelves (and, worse, in the off-site book storage) – what treasures were at my fingertips.

I hope you find it useful, and if you’re at the University of Michigan – or hey, anywhere else, for I can always check the catalog – and you have your own preferred humanities reference works, please send them along or leave the info in the comments. This is an evolving work and I’d like to include everything I possibly can!

pseudonymity and the bibliography

My research is on authorship, and specifically on varied practices of writing and ways that authorship is performed.

For my study – that is, late 19th-century Japan – the practice of using pseudonyms, multiple and various, is extremely common. It’s an issue that I consider quite a bit, and a practice that I personally find simultaneously playful and liberating. It’s the ultimate in creativity: creating not just a work but one’s authorship, and one’s authorial name, every time.

This does raise a practical issue, however, that leads me to think even more about the meaning and implications of using a pseudonym.

How does one create a bibliography of works written under pen names?

The easy version of the problem is this: I have a choice when making my master dissertation bibliography of citing works in a number of ways. I can cite them with that instance’s pen name, then the most commonly known pen or given name in brackets afterward. I can do the reverse. Or I can be troublesome and only cite the pen name. Then again, I could adopt the practice that is the current default – born of now attributing works solely to the most commonly known name rather than to the name originally on the work – that is to not bother with the original pen name, obscuring the original publication context entirely. I can pretend, for example, that Maihime was written by Mori Ogai, and not Mori Rintaro. This flies in the face of convention but is the only way that I can cite the work and remain consistent with the overarching argument that I make in my dissertation: that is, use of and attribution to specific, variable pen names matters, both for understanding context and also understanding the work itself. It goes without saying that this is crucial for understanding authorship itself.

But there is another issue, and it goes hand-in-hand with citing works by writers whose name does not follow Western convention of given name first, last name second. Of having two names at all. The issue comes in the form of citation managers.

I’ve been giving Zotero a go lately and quite enjoying it. But I find myself making constant workarounds because of most of my sources being by Japanese writers, and the writers of my primary sources not only being Japanese but also using pen names. My workaround is to treat the entire name as one single last name, so I can write it in the proper order and not have it wrangled back into “last name”, “first name” – both of those being not quite true here. For citing a Japanese writer, I’d want to retain the last name then given name order; for someone using a pen name, the issue is that no part of the name is a last or given name. It’s what I’d like to call an acquired name.

Mori Ogai is now the most commonly used name of the writer Mori Rintaro (Mori being the last name, Rintaro being his given name). Ogai is a shortened version of his early pen name Ogai Gyoshi. Ogai Gyoshi isn’t a false last plus given name. It’s always in the order Ogai Gyoshi, neither of them is a “real” name, and it is a phrase, not a name. It’s as though he’s using a word that happens to have a space in it.

So when I put some of Mori Rintaro’s writing into Zotero, I put in “Mori Rintaro” as the last name. Sometimes I just put in “Ogai” as the name, when he signs a piece that way. Occasionally it’s “Ogai Mori Rintaro” (this is, in fact, the author of Maihime – I made a shortcut above in my example). And then there are some pieces in which the last name in Zotero is “Ogai Gyoshi.”

I don’t know how to go about this any other way, but it’s less about me having be a little hacky to get it to do what I want, and much more of a constant reminder of our current (Western) assumptions about names, authorship, and naming conventions. It’s a reminder of how different the time and place that I study is, and how much more dynamic and, frankly, fun it was to write in the late 19th century in Japan than it is now, either here as an American or even in Japan. Names are taken a bit more seriously now, I’d argue, and more literally. It’s a little harder to play with one’s name, to make one up entirely for a one-off use, at this point – and I think it’s for the worse.

(Obviously, there are exceptions: musicians come immediately to mind. And it’s not as though writers do not adopt pen names now. But it’s not in the same way. And this, incidentally, is something I love about the early Internet – I’m referring to the nineties in particular. Fun with handles, fun with names, all pseudonymous, and all about fluid, multiple identity.)