The Housekeeper and the Professor, by Y. Ogawa

What a great book... I will start by writing the end in this post, because I was so impressed with this work of literature.  I first heard of Ogawa through other bloggers participating in the Japanese Literature Challenge, as she's regarded as one of modern Japan's more renowned authors.  From her various works, I somehow saw something more in The Housekeeper and the Professor, so decided to read this for the challenge.

The Classics Club: In praise of shadows, by J. Tanizaki

I bought this particular book a while back, but never bothered to open it.  I left it sheltered among many other books that share this fate:  bought because of real interest, even after research, only to remain undiscovered for some time. 

What provoked the sudden re-discovery?  A film called "Le Hérisson" (The Hedgehog).  Great film, based on a great book, but the important point is that it describes a woman with a hidden room full of classic books, with one in plain sight:  In praise of shadows, by J. Tanizaki.  Was my book then considered a classic? 

I had bought it because I liked the subject and the fact that it describes the Japanese approach to it.  Excited to have such a find among my books without intention, I read it during the Classics Club's first readathon on the 5th January 2013.

1Q84 - Book I

Even though I read mostly European literature, I am always on the lookout for works by authors outside it.  So when I saw that Dolce Belezza was organising the Japanese Literature challenge 6, I immediately registered and was excited about the works of literature I was to read:  I was really looking forward to uncovering new and old talents of that culture.

My choices for this challenge were primarily books recommended by friends and family, who knew my likes and dislikes.  Except for one:    Murakami's 1Q84, a trilogy that serves as an ode to Orwell's 1984.  I have to admit I had not heard of Murakami, but given the wide acceptance this book received, I was willing to try.  I bought the enormous tome of the first two books and started to read...

Mailbox Monday

Mailbox Monday is a weekly meme created by Marcia at Mailbox Monday and is being hosted all this month by Marie of Burton Book Review.

I'm participating in the Japanese Literature challenge 6, hosted by Dolce Bellezza - and I'm very excited for this nice pile of books (of course I will be reading in English, even though I would have preferred to read the original...):

The thousand autumns of Jacob de Zoet

When The thousand autumns of Jacob de Zoet by David Mitchell was proposed in my book club, I was excited. I had first heard about it during another writer's visit and presentation here in Brussels, A.S. Byatt. She spoke so highly of this book, that I knew I would love it too (since I love her books, it follows that I'll love the books she loves too...).  Added to this that the book is about the Orient at the time of the Dutch sea trade, and I was already imagining epic movies of the golden-era...

The size of the book did not hinder me from starting with gusto! This novel starts off so beautifully and before long, pages started flying away, chapters went by ... and I was left perplexed. Did I like the book or not? I just couldn't tell. This is the first time something like that has ever happened to me, so I was quite at a loss. In discussing this with other people, I soon discovered that I was not the only one. But why? Something as simple as liking a book (or not) surely should be evident. It was only when I started reading another book in parallel (that was the exact opposite of this one) that I discovered what the matter was.

The book has excellent content and the research carried out is extensive - and this alone makes me love it.  The information on the Japanese Empire of 1799,  the lives and mischiefs of merchants, courtesans and interpreters, the corruption among the Dutch East Indies officials were all there to ignite my imagination.

What is lacking however, at least for me, is the eloquence. So much is lost in the transcription of all the stories happening to de Zoet during his stay in the Orient. I cannot feel the passion, the tension that I would imagine was happening to someone "invading" a culture so foreign, so closed to outsiders. The writing style and tone is constant throughout the book and this makes the characters in the book colourless, odourless, tasteless. (The most colourful characters are the minor ones...). As I was reading of the adventures, I was constantly surprised that they were described as a "matter of fact". I wanted the highs and lows, the vibrant colours, the excitement, the lure of anything oriental... Alas, it was not meant to be. It seems like several (perhaps too many?) stories start throughout the book, but are never finished. Characters or relationships are not developed enough so that I could make almost no sense of the actions.

Was I wrong in expecting more emotion? Was the purpose of the book perhaps the unveiling of this truth  - that whatever we Westerners believe happened in those days in the Far Orient is just a figment of our imagination? Who knows...

Introduction à la culture japonaise

Walking around the rue du Bailli in Brussels, I came across a little bookshop near the church, called "Peinture fraîche" - in it, a whole different world of primarily photography, architecture and art books.  It was there that I discovered Introduction à la culture japonaise by Hisayasu Nakagawa and I just had to buy it.  I have more often than not bought a book because of the bookstore, and I've yet to be dissapointed.  The originality of the book is that it is actually written in French, not Japanese.  The author, a Japanese having studied and lived in France (specialising in Diderot and Rousseau), has the ability to understand both worlds so well, that he can provide examples and definitions to us Westerners to all "different" ideas of Japan.  The purpose, according to the author, is to prove exactly that Japan is just a different culture and not something exotic.  The book itself is small - 100 pages - and is furthermore split in chapters covering the various main ideas, making reading it very easy.  The author's personal experience and evidence in the situations described further enhances the readability - I particularly liked the difference between "I" and "we" as well as the religion split.  In the end, I may not be in a position to view the world like a Japanese, but I can say that I know why there are these essential differences between the two cultures.

I found the book to be intelligent, not only in terms of me understanding a different culture, but also in learning about my own, as it is seen by others.

Peinture fraîche: 10, Rue du Tabellion, 1050 Ixelles