Pillow Thoughts

Product Information

Bundy, Roselee. “Japan’s First Woman Diarist and the Beginnings of Prose Writings by Women in Japan.” Women’s Studies, vol. 19, no. 1, July 1991, p.79. Academic Search Complete, doi:10.1080/00497878.1991.9978855. I hope you know you are loved. I hope things get simpler for you, peaceful. Spend your days with easy breaths and soft words. You deserve light through your windowsill. I hope it comes your way soon. I have never known what this sadness feels like when you cannot feel the sun or the air around you And time they say will heal you but even my own mother doesn’t know what to do. You said you wouldn’t hurt me You promised to keep me safe You knew what the others had done and I fell for the sincerity on your face. Maybe I deserved this for trusting someone who could manipulate so easily Maybe I deserved this for not listening when mother knows best. But all I was trying to do was show you that even a monster can be loved. Full disclosure: I was supposed to participate in a promotional blog tour for this book, which is why I received a copy of it. However, as evidenced by my star rating, I most certainly did not enjoy reading it, and as such, I decided to forfeit my spot in the tour. Still, many thanks to the blog tour organizer for providing a review copy.

I understand why people take flight from bridges, I understand why a girl holds a blade to her wrist, I understand why a grown man cries counting all his lists. What I wish for the world to understand, is that in these fragile moments, patience and love are needed most. I keep wondering how sad do I have to be for someone to stop insisting everything is going to be fine? And can I just say. . . the jellyfishes. are so cute. they stole me and sold me into reading this and finishing it. And don't you just love that metaphor? The jellyfish tends to hurt everyone, but inside, they are soft creatures. I saw an angel once But she had lost her wings I saw an angel once She seemed broken of all things I saw an angel once And asked her why she was sad The angel looked at me and said “Because the world has gone mad” Henitiuk, Valerie (2011). Worlding Sei Shônagon: The Pillow Book in Translation. Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press. ISBN 978-0-7766-0728-3. Archived from the original on 2016-03-04 . Retrieved 2016-01-03.

Table of Contents

Penney, Matthew. “The Pillow Book.” Salem Press Encyclopedia 2016: Research Starters. Accessed 21 February 2017.

Peter Greenaway released his film The Pillow Book in 1996. Starring Vivian Wu and Ewan McGregor, it tells a modern story that references Sei Shōnagon's work. Henitiuk, Valerie (2012-06-16). Worlding Sei Shônagon: The Pillow Book in Translation. University of Ottawa Press. ISBN 978-0-7766-1979-8. Bundy, Roselee (February 1991). "Japan's first woman diarist and the beginnings of prose writings by women in Japan". Women's Studies. 19 (1): 79–97. doi: 10.1080/00497878.1991.9978855. ISSN 0049-7878. Is that why you play the music so loud? A beat to drown out the thoughts, sound so high you cannot think, lyrics so close to home, you don’t even blink.The tragedy of what could have been is nearly as crippling as what once was but can never be again. I just love how this collection has been devided into 10 chapters specifically when to read each of these chapters. In general, The Pillow Book is written in brief statements, where the length of one paragraph is relatively short, and it is easy to read the contents, even for modern Japanese speakers. The miscellaneous collection has been arranged loosely into three specific types, while the collection of similar things has been compiled by distinct classification, and this so-called compiling was done afterwards by the hands of people other than Sei Shōnagon. Based on the beliefs of certain scholars, most of Shonagon's work was written during her time working in the court; however, some of the later entries were written in her later life, and were just based on her memories of the days and moments she experienced previously in the court. If you are dreaming of someone, if you are in love, if you are heartbroken, if you are lonely, if you are sad, if you are missing someone, if you need encouragement, if you are soul-searching, if you need a reason to stay (suicide prevention), and these are for you. Some of them are long streams of consciousness, and others are a thought. Some of the poems rhyme, while others are just a lovely paragraph that tells a story. Sei Shōnagon (1971). The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon. trans. Ivan Morris. London: Penguin Books. ISBN 0-14-044236-7. Originally published in 1967 by Columbia University Press.

Here is to tomorrow, bringing us one day closer to each other, until the day arrives that we meet again. Midnight weighs heavy on my soul as the earth folds into itself, every fold bringing us closer together. You promised you would never take a road that I could not follow, yet here we are; I’m crying on the bathroom floor and you’ve taken the road I couldn’t follow. We are standing at the edge of the world and yet we still do not meet. You are soaked in daylight and I am covered in the night. My heart yearns for our eclipse. Some of the poems were too straight forward for my taste and I was not a fan of all of them. This was actually my only main problem the whole time I was reading it. But there were ones that really touched me (like, seriously, they touched my heart. . . literally one tear drop down my eye type) and I liked how the poems are not just thrown together and there is actually some find of flow to it in each section if you pay attention to it enough. A lot are pretty much related in a way. If ever the reader gets to reading everything. Dalby, Liza (1 February 2009). East Wind Melts the Ice: A Memoir Through the Seasons. University of California Press. p.22. ISBN 978-0-520-25991-1.

Customer reviews

Gibney, Michele. "Defining the Feminine Impact on the Progression of Japanese Language: An inquiry into the development of Heian period court diaries" (2004) Library of the University of Pacific You won’t remember, they say, when someone drifts away. One minute you are talking about life’s greatest adventures and listening to mixtapes on Monday afternoons, and the next their presence is replaced with silence: a fragile nonexistence with nothing else to lose. But I will always remember our drift. It took up all this space, like a planet with many moons. It was the year you forgot my birthday. Truth be told, I can probably go on and on about how mediocre and embarrassing this literary monstrosity is because God knows I never thought I’d ever find a poetry book that I would end up loathing more than the collections written by Lang Leav. However, there are much more important things for me to accomplish than to waste so many words on a book that shouldn’t even warrant any positive attention.