Edo Books

Nyland's book describes a vast project involving the 'theory' that almost all languages were concocted out of Basque roots - analysed in terms of (a) a highly speculative system of syllable patterns and (b) alleged close links between Basque and a primeval 'Saharan' language. Much of this exercise is seen as part of an enormous Catholic Church conspiracy during the Dark Ages, aimed at obscuring the true history of humanity and concealing the replacement of ancestral goddess-worship by artificial religions with male deities. Nyland started from some obscure etymologies in Homer, and went on from there to Ogam script and eventually to Basque and the development of a novel general account of early human language. There have been many other amateur proposals of this kind, but Nyland is unusual in (a) not himself being of the favoured language background and (b) claiming that most non-Basque languages were initially not real at all. He has read more widely in linguistics than most such authors and cites in his support not only other amateurs but also very controversial near-mainstream figures (such as Gimbutas and Landsberg). But he has clearly misunderstood the genuine mainstream positions of Ringe and other scholars (whom he despises) on the nature of historical linguistics; he wrongly represents his own work as more scientific in character than theirs. I have the following summary comments: 1) The analysis of words and syllables into Basque roots involves huge amounts of extrapolation, in respect of both forms and meanings; on this basis, similar cases could be made out for almost ANY language as the source, and none of these could be 'disproved'; 2) The 'theory' implies that vast numbers of etymologies, synchronic analyses (grammar etc), genetic links between languages etc which are very well-established are all either concocted or simply illusory; 3) There is no known case of even one entire language being concocted along with an extensive literature; the requirements of the Church would not be sufficient to warrant labour on this scale, even supposing that it was feasible. In the absence of clear evidence that these events actually occurred, the proposal can thus be eliminated by Ockham's Razor. In addition, Nyland's reliance on fringe sources - and occasionally on religious texts - generates various factual errors.

I have my reservations about some of Nylands methodology. However, he was on top of the the connection between various European peoples and the Basque long before mainstream academics were. He made the claim that Welsh and some other languages/peoples had connections to Basque. Mainstream scholars laughed at him. However, genetic studies proved that there was something that needed to be looked at very carefully here. For example, the Welsh people have a high frequency of Y-chromosomes very similar to those found among the Basque. This was not predicted by mainstream linquists-but it was predicted by Nyland.

Although Ms. Bitton's translations of Basho's prose are not far off from other versions of this title, many have complained of the rhyming scheme she employs when translating the haiku verses of the author's most famous work. I do agree, that these translations are somewhat jarring and just a little cumbersome (especially if one has knowledge of other translations of this haibun). But Bitton's effort was devoted to making the verses more accessible to Western readers accustomed to the perceived elegance of the rhyme in popular Western poetry. This, one may argue, is the job of a translator, and thus is not an all too terrible introduction to "The Narrow Road," especially for younger readers. However, if one truly wishes to enjoy this, one of Japan greatest literary volumes, please seek other versions as well. The difficult art of translation is in itself a fascinating study.

We can find Basho almost everywhere in Japan. My hometown is close to the Tokaido-highway and easy to find stone monuments with Basho's haiku inscribed in it.

Dorothy Britton did fine job in the mission-impossible task of
translating Basho haiku into palpable English. I am not well versed in poetry so I do not know how great her translation is with respect to literal viewpoint. She created the method by which peculiarly styled Japanese poem is converted into that of rhyme based western poem. Her English translation is easy to understand so it could be enjoyed by huge number of people not limited to those highly educated. As a Japanese who usually reads this essay in archaic Japanese of 17th century, her translation is instrumental in understanding what difficult Japanese words mean.

As far as Haiku translation goes English language has huge disadvantages.
1: Deletion of subject is difficult while in old Japanese it is really common.
2: Phonetically Japanese and English is so different. For example, in Japanese, common English words such as STRIKE is
pronounced SU-TO-RIE-KU. In Englsih one syllabled but in Japanese phonetics it requires four syllables.

So as syllable based translation. Basho's haiku will be translated rather explanatory than its original Japanese form.

In conclusion, I think she did a great job as a translator and her translation quite natural. No wonder Kodansha International adopted her translation for Japanese English learners.

Recommended for wide range of Japanese culture appreciators.

There are several different translations of Basho's Narrow Road extant and without doubt this is the worst generally available. Dorothy Britten's translations of both the text and verse cloy terribly, and betray her shallow understanding of the form. Her translations of some of Basho's best haiku rhyme, which should be enough to put anyone off.

If you want to buy a translation of this wonderful work, I recommend a different Kodansha publication -- the edition featuring Masayuki Miyata's breathtaking illustrations and Donald Keene's somewhat academic but still vastly superior translations. Don't buy this one!

This is the worst translation of Basho that I have ever seen. She makes all the haiku rhyme!!! Ugh! I suppose in Lady Bouchier's idle mind that's how poetry should appear.

Here's a quote: "Life itself is a journey; and as for those who spend their days upon the waters in ships and those who grow old leading horses, their very home is the open road."

Now compare that to Sam Hamill's translation: "A lifetime adrift in a boat, or in old age leading a tired horse into the years, every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home."

This book is embarrassing. Don't buy it.

I'll never get those four hours back. I miss them already.

For those of you who have not yet read this turkey, unless you want to know where it went wrong, better stop reading now. Spoilers ahead.

There's no doubt that Edo Van Belkom can write. He's pretty good at describing places and situations, character interaction is well done, and the dialogue isn't half-bad. I'm somewhat curious about his other works. This is the sign of a decent writer. The book was not edited well, and I caught several mistakes in dialogue when a character's lines were given to another, causing some confusion. The reader is forced to make the correction so it makes sense.

The story is well written, and anyone unfamiliar with the world of Esfah and the game of Dragon Dice would probably enjoy it quite a bit as a small fantasy novel. The only real drawback to his writing style is that the story takes itself too seriously, with very little comic bantering between characters, and nothing that would give even a dim smile to a reader. In fact, the only thing funny in the book is a fart reference, which oddly enough, struck me as being out of place and almost forced, as if he thought the situation called for a poor joke. For me, it fell flat. I did, however, turn to my friend and say, "Well, it's about time he tried to write something funny!" Pretty sad.

Now the bad parts, and I do mean bad. I thought "Cast of Fate" was bad, but it's got nothing on this stinker.

This book was loaned to me. Because of that, I was unable to throw it across the room in disgust on several occasions when I really longed to, and I can't burn it in a sacrificial ritual of cleansing. I was only able to set the book down and take several deep breaths to calm myself before picking it up again.

It's obvious from early on in the book that ol' Edo didn't research the game he was writing about beyond the very basics. In the second chapter the Warlord Adelric uses earth magic (gold) to adjust the terrain in his backyard into a garden, basically sculpting it to his vision. A warlord? Using magic? What gives? True, in the game a warlord can draw magic if the ID is rolled, but here it just doesn't fit. In fact, Adelric takes an old friend; who just happens to be Dorian, a Selumari enchanter, on a tour of his town. They witness theurgists and thaumaturgists working magic to make funny sculptures as practice exercises in magic. Not what I'd consider the best way to hone your talents, and nothing in the Dragon Dice mythology suggests this skill. In fact, any old dwarf can work magic, not just those specifically trained for it.

However, very little fire magic is used unless the dwarves want fire. No instances of Ash Storms, Dancing Lights or even Spark of Life. None! The Undead however, use vast amounts of magic, mostly to resurrect dead bodies. But, (and this is a big but!), they also use magic to cause a swampland area to grow, turning a flatland into a swampland. When was this a part of the game? Unless I'm mistaken (and I'll admit it if I am), there has never been an Undead spell that transforms a terrain into a swamp. Give it the black element, yes. But not change it entirely. Another big no-no was having the Undead leader use a Path spell. Where did she get access to gold magic? No explanation is given, and the Undead are unable to use anything other than black magic.

In the course of the story a red dragon is summoned by the dwarves. This is about the only thing he did get right, describing its summoning quite well, and the effects it has on both armies. The only mistake here is that the dragon attacked and then disapated without either army getting a return attack. Again, it's part of the game. Accuracy counts! If it had flown away to wreak havoc elsewhere it would have made more sense. Better yet, it should have stuck around until it was killed. Some might say that it rolled the wing icon and flew away, but that's not the way he wrote it, and I was very disappointed. Two pages later the Undead consider summoning their own dragon, which is referred to as an Undead dragon. Huh? Undead dragons? Black dragons are the incarnation of the Death element, they're not Undead. ARGH!

Among the characters Warlord Adelric is well written. An old warrior ready for peace and agonizing over a coming battle. I liked him, but I didn't like how easily he could use magic. There are several references to actual dwarf ranks, and they are used correctly. So Edo at least got that right. But just as he earns praise from me for getting something right, he louses it all up again. The Undead are led by a heucava named Renata. Not a lich as would be expected. A heucava is not one of the stronger units in the game! In fact, other than than the Vaghan warlord and the Selumari enchanter, no other rare units are mentioned. Bad Edo, bad! Another thing that made me almost slam the book down is when a ghoul (named Peregrine, shades of Lord of the Rings!), unearths a lava elf wolf-rider.

Did that make anyone else blink and say, "What?" I'm not kidding. A Morehl wolf-rider . Last time I checked, the lava elves had wyvern-riders, scorpion-knights and spider-riders. This should be an indication of the many other numerous mistakes that are to be found within the pages of this disaster.

It's obvious that this story was written just prior to the Feral kickers getting released. While the Amazons and Firewalkers get a mention (and the 'walkers get one sentence in the entire book), the Feral are not spoke of until almost the very end, in a vague reference to them and the "younger races." Use them or leave them out entirely!

My last nitpick (and it's a doozy to dwarf lovers), is that the children of Eldurim & Firiel don't even live within the earth. Nope, they've given up the mountains they are part of and live in peaceful seaside villages complete with harbors, not far from a small plain and a largish swamp area. To me, this was the most unforgiveable part of the story.

In conclusion, I'm not happy I read "Army of the Dead," but as a lover of all things Dragon Dice I felt obligated. Now I wish I'd heeded the warnings. I wouldn't be so upset. Pass on this one, gang. It's a major stinker. Read anything else, and I mean that. Including "Cast of Fate."

My little tirade is now concluded. I'm going to go read Harry Potter 6 again just to get this bomb out of my mind.