Born to a Chinese mother and a Japanese father in San Francisco, Gail Tsukiyama now lives in El Cerrito, California. Her novels include Women of the Silk (1991), The Samurai's Garden (1995), Night of Many Dreams (1998), The Language of Threads (1999), Dreaming Water (2002), and The Street of a Thousand Blossoms (2007).
This novel very much focuses on Japanese culture in 1930鈥檚 rural Japan. At that time Japan was invading China and savaging China鈥檚 people and cities. Yet life goes on in the rural village pretty much as usual with the exception that all the young men are missing as they are off at war.
(Edited 5/11/19 to hide spoilers and add photos)
The main character is not Japanese, but a young Chinese man from Hong Kong. His father is a wheeler-dealer businessman who does much business in Japan as his father before him did. So the father inherited a house with a caretaker in this rural seafront Japanese village.
While in the village he hears of the war only from a distance -- from letters from friends and family and from occasional radio broadcast that the servant/caretaker immediately turns off when he hears the young man approaching.
It鈥檚 a very atmospheric novel. We learn of Japanese daily life as well as festivals and celebrations, religious ceremonies, food and cooking. Much of the limited plot revolves around the caretaker鈥檚 support for a nearby leper village and a love triangle that existed between the caretaker, a woman who was (and still is) beautiful before she became a leper, and her former fianc茅e who abandoned her when she came down with the disease. The boy frequently visits the leper village and becomes acquainted with its inhabitants. Both the caretaker and the woman find fulfillment in their painstaking care of their gardens.
The boy also has a puppy love romance with a young Japanese woman whose father is fiercely anti-Chinese.
Top photo from pandotrip.com; bottom from gstatic.com
15 stars This is my second reading of this most beautiful book. It was hypnotic the 1st time around, but the second reading made me think about why I loved it the 1st time This took away it's hypnotic effect. Never analyze a book just go with the flow
But I had to question why I felt this book was so peaceful. Why when people were dying, when leopards were suffering, when they were shunned. When the young man, Steve, had TB and came to the samurai's garden to heal It was because of the gardener, Matsu, was so compassionate like a Zen master. And Steve was compassionate as well. It was the peace they both Brought into this world of sorrow.
This book is beautiful. The primary theme is about beauty. (And then there is a love story too.) I think beauty is very important in the Japanese culture. What really is beauty? The tempo is lulling, quiet, and calming. This too creates a kind of beauty. The concept of beauty is drawn through the lives of the main characters. The novel takes place at the time of the Rape on Nanking, when the Japanese were invading and slaughtering the Chinese at the end of the 1930s. In contrast, the novel plays out in a small Japanese village outside of Kobe. You have the quiet village life following the seasons, the routine Japanese festivals and the pervading sense of tranguilty that gardens and gardening create. Honor and respect and traditions of non-confrontation/silence still cannot stamp out the rumbling fears and problems of the time. Not only are we confronted with hatred between Japanese and Chinese but also the fear and dishonor associated with leprosy, the lepers having been pushed out to the village Yamaguchi. Silence and honor cannot remove the threats of natural disasters, fires and storms of nature and of people. These contrasting forces play out against each other. On one side you have the lulling order of society, and yet underneath rumbles these threatening problems. All would seem less threatening if allowed to surface.
This novel teaches the reader about Japanese traditions. The prose style fits the message. Look at Indian art. Compare it to Chinese art and then to Japanese art. You clearly see that as we move eastward all the nonessentials are removed. What is left is pure and simple. Art is incorporated into all parts of daily life - house construction, bathing, gardening, the use of scrolls, food preparation, to name but a few. This pure, simple form of art is also reflected in how the Japanese interact with each other.
I think you will be surprised about who the main protagonists are in this novel. I do not see Stephen in this role. It is Matsu and Sachi. So be a bit patient when you begin the novel. You will delight in the life story of the main two protagonists. Remember, beauty is not always what is on the surface. I said this book was about beauty. Well it is. But What is beauty? Is it that we see only with our eyes? Is it the clicking of stones when you rake a stone garden? Is it the delight of soaking in a hot, clean bath?, Is it all of these things? Is it something more?
P.S. How the Japanese switch between Shinto beliefs and Buddhism for different ceremonies never ceses to amaze me!
Stephen and his family seemed a way for the author to incorporate the confict between the Japanese and the Chinese into the plot. I do not think this was adequately explored. I found it hard to believe the ease with which they were accepted by the Japanese. Maybe that is why I chose three rather than four stars.
And was Yamaguchi truly a Japanese leper colony, or is this fictitious?!
Many thanks to my GR friend Murray for the recommendation!
Something beautiful. Something tender. For a year we follow Stephen, a 20 year old Chinese boy sick with TB and who to recuperate, moves from busy Hong Kong to his grandfather's beach house in Tarumi, Japan. It is also around this time that Japan invades China(the story is set in 1937-1938).
Matsu is an older gentleman who lives in Tarumi and takes care of the beach house and its accompanying garden. He receives sick Stephen, takes care of him, cooks him meals but Stephen remains lonely and worried for his family back in Hong Kong because each day the Japanese army progresses more and more into China.
Throughout this formative year we follow Stephen as he copes with the realities of war, and the growing pains of young adulthood. He befriends a woman called Sachi. Her impression on young Stephen changes him. (Sachi has leprosy and lives in adjacent Yamaguchi, a secluded village for people with leprosy. Matsu and Sachi are lovers, and it's a tender thing to witness.... the whole thing was.) Stephen grows so much, many things happen during his stay: deaths, suicide, falling in love, looming divorces, and of course the invasion by Japan.
The story, it's beautiful, melancholic. Gentle and kind. I didn't want it to end. I wish I could get to know them all more and more!
"The Samurai's Garden" is a touching, gentle novel filled with Japanese culture. A Chinese young man, Stephen, was sent to his family's vacation home in a coastal town in Japan to recuperate from tuberculosis. The artistic student spends time with the caretaker, Matsu, who has created serene gardens. Matsu is quiet, but has hidden depths of wisdom. Matsu has been taking care of an older woman, Sachi, in a leper colony since they were both teenagers. Although Stephen is the narrator of the story, the lives of Matsu and Sachi were the most important focus of the book. Their devotion to each other under challenging circumstances taught Stephen the true meaning of love.
The novel is set in 1937-38 when Japan invaded China. Occasional radio reports and letters tell of the Japanese advance. Stephen meets his first love, a Japanese girl, but her father has a strong anti-Chinese attitude.
The story has elements of isolation and loneliness because Stephen was dealing with tuberculosis, and Sachi and the other lepers had to live away from society. It also had themes of loyalty, honor, and the quiet comfort of gardens. I enjoyed this lovely story, and wished I was reading it in Matsu's peaceful Japanese garden.
The jury's still out on this one, but frankly, I know myself too well to believe that they'll ever return with a definitive answer in hand.
Relying simply on gut instinct, I enjoyed the book. I have never traveled outside the US, and the cosmopolitan feeling of having aspects of China, Japan, and vague traces of Western culture all wrapped into one story was appealing, to say the least. The appeal for me was strengthened by the majority of the story taking place in Japanese landscapes filled with calm and natural beauty, an aesthetic that the prose made an especial effort to convey. However, there were many things that increasingly bothered me as the pages progressed, and were never satisfactorily resolved enough for my taste.
My biggest issue was with the main character, who as the sole first person narrator was entrusted with setting and maintaining the tone through the entirety of the novel. This tone is a very comforting, but ultimately placid one, and it is hard to believe someone would be so overwhelmingly lighthearted and good-naturedly accepting considering all the events swirling around him. Tuberculosis, being in a foreign country that is currently attacking your homeland, leprosy, suicide, parental issues, and so many other major events that seemed to only register for brief moments within the narrator's mind as a side note to an entry. However, I fully admit to being introspective in reaction to external conflicts to the point of neurotic anxiety, so I may be judging the character too harshly in terms of how he chooses to deal with all the chaos around him.
It still seems odd, though, his ability to block out major concerns and focus on the smaller events of the much less chaotic everyday life. One event in particular makes me believe that the author used the epistolary form as a means to achieve exactly that, namely when the narrator . Ultimately, all conflict both physical and mental is received secondhand by the narrator, and he maintains his well meaning nature all the way through without any repercussions or consequent soul-searching. Forgive me my cynicism, but golden boy characters such as these don't seem the most realistic of beings.
There was an also worrying amount of focus on physical beauty being a synonym for moral goodness, an example being the numerous occasions when the narrator evaluated and reacted to characters seemingly for how their faces look and/or might have looked in the past. I don't see his interest in being a painter, a good looking one at that as mentioned by many of the other characters, as a good enough excuse for this constant preoccupation and lack of further insight into those around him, especially when concerning the females.
There's also the Second Sino-Japanese War to consider, which began before the events of the book and ended long after, fully subsuming this tale of a young Chinese man and his father traveling back and forth between the two participating countries. I have very little hard knowledge of the events, so it is near impossible for me to gauge how feasible it would have been for this kind of story to have actually happened. While it is obvious that the author made an effort to include pertinent cultural details of both countries, as well as the influences the West had on both, there is very little commentary on the difficulties there must have been in traveling between the two during a time of war. I find it hard to believe that the narrator and his father had such an easy time of coping with being in a country currently responsible for the slaughter of so many of their people, or that the Japanese themselves accepted them with minimal signs of anger and distrust. Again, I don't know the facts, so this is all personal perception of the matter.
Lastly, I had an issue with the prose. Admittedly, I am biased against short sentences, but there were too many times when I was thrown off by the basic mechanics of word order and usage, and had to backtrack in order to figure out what the author was trying to say. Many of the better ones were beautiful, to be sure, but I feel that the novel could have used to a better editor. Also, the ending explanation of the epistolary form used throughout the novel was a weak one, and rather than tying up the conclusion left me with a deep feeling of disbelief.
Ultimately, it was a very relaxing and casual novel that fed my craving for lands I have never been to, but didn't do much when it came to my craving for good literature.
This was an excellent and peaceful book...it is about a young chinese man who is sent to his parent's summer home at the beach in Japan to recover from an illness. The caretaker of the home becomes his life-teacher and as the book unfolds he learns about relationships, how to find peace within himself, and about love and loss. It is written as excerpts from his journal and so it is from his perspective...as though we, the reader, are sharing his inner-most thoughts and feelings. It gave me an insight into the beauty of Japan and the way of life in the remote parts of that country in the 1930s. I also particularly enjoyed it because the caretaker's garden is his reverent and therapeutic domain..something i can relate to. I had a sense of peace while reading this book and could not wait to find time to sit and read it in my free time. I would strongly recommend this book..it is an easy book to read and a quick read..one that I hated to see come to an end.
The serenity and beauty of a Japanese garden and assistance of a samurai come through this story. Both aspects unveil a poignant story.
1937: Stephen Chan, 20 years old, is sent by his family from busy Hong Kong to his family鈥檚 summer house by the sea in Tarumi, Japan, to recover from tuberculosis.
He is met there by the only occupant of the house Matsu, who鈥檚 been taking care of the house and garden since early age. The garden reflects the extension of his life. In the village he is known for his art as a master of gardens. He uses flowers as colors to paint his picture in the garden.
While Stephen recuperates, he occupies his time with painting and drawing.
At the beach, he meets two sisters Keiko and Mika. As he gets to know Keiko, he learns of her brother being with the Japanese army in China. That makes him wander if the brother is in Shanghai, where Japanese recently celebrated their victory over controlling the city.
Matsu takes Stephen to Yamaguchi to visit his leper friend Sachi. This village in the mountains was designated just for lepers. With each visit Stephen gets to know Sachi more and he is fascinated by her calmness. He persists in convincing her to tell him her story. And it is a profound story.
As the story develops, it reveals in bits the sad history of Japanese invasions, including unnecessary brutality. But the story is concentrated on human nature and what it takes to achieve calmness as human nature tends to struggle.
The story has a bit slow beginning, but once the leper village is introduced (pg 23) the story picks up its pace and is touchingly presented.
The book mentions women divers, if you鈥檇 like to read more about this: The Island of Sea Women by Lisa See 鈥� about Korean island of Jeju known for women divers.
Highly recommend another book about the issue of lepers: The Island by Victoria Hislop
Bad, sentimental, insipid book about a young Chinese man from a wealthy Hong Kong family who is sent to a small village in Japan (why?) to convalesce from TB (?), only to discover a leper colony (named Yamaguchi lol) up in the mountains. The Japanese are conquering China, but the young man Stephen who loves to call himself Stephen-san (which he shouldn't do when speaking about himself) doesn't really care either for his country, his friends, or his family. Neither does he care about his illness, swimming in the sea, visiting people whose health has already been weakened by their disease, or kissing Japanese girls, all the time more or less happily spraying his surroundings with bacteria.
What else? There is a supposedly taciturn and secretive gardener Matsu, who after a few days spills all his sweet red beans to Stephen-san. There is his lover Sachi who lives in the colony and is ashamed at not having committed seppuku long time ago (despite the fact that women didn't commit seppuku). There are a few other people, who very often say "I am honored to see you here" and not much more. There is a lot of Japanese, which is funny, because a lot of it is incorrect (genken instead of genkan, yakata instead of yukata, stuff like that). The Japanese people in general are completely dead, killed by their politeness, mysteriousness and I dunno? honor? and rice crackers.
As long as books like these are being published, there is hope for every and all Orientalist charlatans under the sun. Cheers!
Languish for a while in the Tsukiyama's Japanese garden and you may never want to leave. The serenity created in Matsu's little haven is contradicted by the military domination of the Japanese over the Chinese and the reclusive leper colony struggling for a peaceful existence in a realm beyond that of war. It is to this environment that a young Chinese boy enters into in search of healthier air and soothing salt of the sea . As his body begins healing, his emotions are delicately fractured by all that he learns of war, leprosy, first love, his family secrets, and the servant Matsu - who is truly a master of wisdom, honor, and faith. I wanted to walk through this garden again and again.
This was a good book, a well told, gentle story, with believable, likable characters, but, for whatever reason, I just never got emotionally involved. A solid 3, heading toward 3.5.
On the face of it, The Samurai鈥檚 Garden is a beautifully told story of one young man鈥檚 journey to figure out who he is, a sort of coming of age story. But there is really so much more below the surface. There is an enchanting and poignant love story. The reader is shown how beauty can exist in a cruel world. There is betrayal, adultery, young love, and two gardens that play a large role as a place of peace. Plus other topics I don鈥檛 want to mention so as not to spoil anything. All of this is framed by the Japanese invasion of China during 1937-1938. Writing this I wonder how it all came together to make a cohesive story, but it does, and with beautiful imagery.
Stephen Chan is a young man of 20, recovering from tuberculosis. He is sent from his family鈥檚 home in Hong Kong to their summer beach home in Tarumi, Japan. Stephen is met at the Tarumi train station by Matsu, the family鈥檚 long time gardener/caretaker of the summer home. From the beginning it is clear that Matsu will not baby Stephen and that is just what Stephen needs at this point in his life. At first it seemed to me that Matsu was more the teacher or guide to Stephen. But really Matsu and Stephen form a bond and learn about life and family from each other. Stephen is introduced to other inhabitants of Tarumi who play a large role in his year long stay. Kenzo, Keiko and the most important, Sachi (an older woman who actually lives in Yamaguchi) all develop a relationship with Stephen.
This story is told by way of entries in Stephen鈥檚 journal as he learns about loyalty to friends and family. Japanese culture is incorporated into the story. Read the book it really is wonderful!
I hesitate to call this a "quiet" novel because often that means dull and boring. I enjoyed every page of this gentle, meditative book. The Samurai's Garden starts as the straightforward story of Stephen, a young Chinese man who goes to his family's seaside vacation home in Japan to recover from tuberculosis during WWII. But underneath the calm surface there is much more going on. Stephen's taciturn caretaker emerges as a hero, a woman whose face is eaten away by leprosy is profoundly beautiful and his Japanese friends are his country's enemies.
Lovely book. I didn鈥檛 want it to end. I wanted to accompany Stephen back to Hong Kong to rejoin his mother and sister. Also, I wanted him to continue to have Matsu and his garden and his words of wisdom in his life. Sigh. The book ended too soon.
Have you ever turned off the sound on a video or TV program, and just watched the picture? You see things you don鈥檛 see when you are distracted by the 鈥渘oise.鈥� That鈥檚 how this book felt for me--quiet and calm enough to expose some details I might otherwise have missed. And they were delicately beautiful details.
One of my takeaways: creating order and carefully-tended beauty can help us deal with the ugly and uncontrollable things that exist in our lives.
I love this kind of quiet and sensitive writing. While there were times when I thought Tsukiyama had taken it a bit too far, that the quietness here was possibly too much of a good thing, I was very much affected by the story. The distinctive characters and atmosphere will stay with me for a long time.
鈥淗e showed me that life is not just from within, it extends all around you, whether you wish it to or not.鈥�
I am amazed i never read this book. a beautiful and sad tale set in China and Japan- The characters are so well portrayed -with all their worries and loves. very lovely and an escape to the sea in a village in Japan.
Mientras le铆 esta novela estuve en 茅xtasis, un sentimiento de belleza me embarg贸. Una historia preciosa, que me record贸 a Kabei: Nuestra Madre (Yoji Yamada, 2008) y a Una Pasteler铆a en Tokio (Naomi Kawase, 2015), no porque al igual que en esta novela de Gail Tsukiyama estas pel铆culas retraten la segunda guerra mundial y la enfermedad respectivamente, sino por su calidez, que me lleva, pese a las distancias culturales, a espacios donde la cotidianidad es sublime al ser inmanente a la vida, a una experiencia profunda del ser y el estar.
鈥溾€u belleza era algo que ninguna enfermedad o persona podr铆a arrebatarme jam谩s. Me qued茅 all铆 durante largo rato hasta que tuve la sensaci贸n de no ser yo misma, sino parte del jard铆n鈥�.
La historia es contada por el Stephen en su diario. 脡l es un joven chino que en 1937, en los inicios de la segunda guerra mundial, viaja a desde Hong Kong a la finca de su abuelo en Tarumi, un pueblo costero de Jap贸n, para recuperarse de tuberculosis. Y si bien la guerra ya es, y Stephen est谩 lejos, la vida siempre llega, te busca, te sacude, te invita. Y as铆, en este viaje de iniciaci贸n aparecen Matsu Y Hachi como gu铆as, pero no de una forma convencional. Aparecen para ser interpretes de la vida. Y es maravillosa la manera como G. Tsukiyama cambia el mirador de la historia, porque el lector pasa de Stephen a centrar su atenci贸n en Matsu y Hachi, y la historia es di谩fana, sigue su curso, no cambia, es la misma, seguro porque la vida tiene muchas formas de manifestarse.
Con una escritura casi transparente, Gail Tsukiyama hace una hermosa met谩fora de lo que es vivir, del aprendizaje vital, con las estaciones del a帽o. La novela est谩 compuesta por cinco cap铆tulos; el primero es oto帽o, pero tambi茅n es el 煤ltimo, se abre y cierra un ciclo, y no termina con el verano porque, como a prop贸sito de la p茅rdida dice uno de sus personajes, 鈥溾€l final, s贸lo se puede mirar atr谩s y confiar en que todo lo que sucede en la vida haya sido por un prop贸sito. Tanto s铆 la ves o si no la ves m谩s, eso ya no evitar谩 que la hayas conocido. Si ella es importante en tu vida, se quedar谩 en ella鈥�.
Y ah铆 est谩 uno de los asuntos, la autora crea a Matsu y a Hachi, dos personajes entra帽ables que no quieres dejar. Quer铆a quedarme en Tarumi con ellos dos, en ese lugar seguro, bello y tranquilo. A final, parece que lo que pasa es el tiempo鈥� Bell铆simo. De las mejores novelas que he le铆do 煤ltimamente. Un libro que habla de la soledad, el abandono, la perdida, la verg眉enza, la cobard铆a, el tiempo y la vida. Hasta aqu铆 Gail Tsukiyama fue una desconocida para m铆, ya tengo pendiente otro de sus t铆tulos. Ya es uno de mis favoritos. A manera de nota al pie, debo agregar que es generoso en referencias culturales, pero de una manera explicada, lo que tambi茅n contribuye a acercar al lector a ese lugar, esas personas y esas circunstancias.
鈥溾€l puente representaba el dif铆cil transito del samur谩i desde este mundo a la vida en el m谩s all谩. Al llegar a lo m谩s alto del puente, puedes ver el camino que conduce al para铆so. Tengo la sensaci贸n de que los 煤ltimos d铆as me han permitido echar un vistazo a eso. El llevar una vida sencilla, sin temor, ha sido un verdadero para铆so鈥�.
鈥溾€β縉o te parece interesante las muchas veces que uno tiene que podar algo precisamente para que crezca m谩s fuerte? Es posible que, al principio, la rama podada parezca solitaria y pelada, pero las cosas cambian cuando florece de nuevo en la primavera. Los seres humanos y esas plantas no somos tan diferentes. Todos formamos parte de una misma naturaleza y aprendemos a vivir los unos de los otros鈥︹€�