Thursday 16 June 2016

The Letter Opener, chapters 1-4

Hi everyone,

Apologies for the gap in postings - Nikkei Book Club is going through some format changes which are not yet finalized. While we work on that, I want to give you a space to discuss our scheduled next book, The Letter Opener by Kyo Maclear. Here are some thoughts from me on the first four chapters:

What I find most interesting so far I think is something I would describe as the book’s sense of the world – which I know sounds pretty broad. What I mean by that is this: the narrator Naiko is Nikkei, her boyfriend is from Argentina, her coworkers Andrei and Baba are from Romania and Lebanon, respectively. There’s a very casual sense of multiculturalism as we’re introduced to each of these characters, even as Naiko repeatedly describes her world as sheltered and protected by her routine as a solitary office worker. But at the same time, this section describing the ESL education of Andrei and his fellow refugees jumps out at me:

Urged on by an exuberant ESL teacher, they mouthed the language of parrots: Hi, how are you? Nice day, isn’t it? Would you care for a coffee? Their accents slowed them down, but no more than if they had been taught to say: Do you know what’s happening in my country? Do you know what brought me here? (page 29)

So far all the characters we know in Naiko’s world, other than presumably Naiko, appear to be immigrants from places much less safe and sheltered than Ontario in 1989. What does it say that Naiko is surrounded by these people within her sheltered existence? How much access do they have to her safe and routine-based world, and how much access does she have to the things they’ve lived through that brought them to Ontario? Do you think they can or will find true common ground and intimacy, or do they seem alienated from Naiko?

I’m also curious what you thought of the list of Andrei’s things at the beginning of the book: do any of the objects jump out at you? What impression do they give you of Andrei? Also, by the end of chapter four, I’ve noticed Naiko explain the leather shoes the colour of dark grapes the Mamas and Papas LP record, and maybe the brass belt buckle. Did I miss any others that appear in the first four chapters?

Also, here's a short, interesting review of the novel by acclaimed Canadian author Guy Beauregard which touches on its major themes without spoiling the plot: http://canlit.legacy.arts.ubc.ca/reviews/scrawled_with_histories

Please feel welcome to share your thoughts on the book so far - the first four chapters, or wherever you are in your reading. I'll post again when I've finished finalizing our format changes, but in the meantime, let the discussion go on!

-Carolyn

Thursday 19 May 2016

Chorus of Mushrooms: week seven

Thank you to those who attended the in-person discussion last Saturday! What a great chat, and I hope more of you will join us for our next book, The Letter Opener by Kyo Maclear!

We've come to the end of Chorus of Mushrooms - this week, I want to talk a little bit about the end of Part Four as well as Part Five. Finish the book before reading this post, because I'm not going to hold back from spoilers!

At the end of the book, we finally hear Keiko's perspective in her own words, and from Muriel's father Sam. Adult Murasaki decides to embark on a new chapter of her life, and Naoe continues a mysterious career as a bullrider in Calgary known as The Purple Mask. Are you satisfied with the ending? What questions does it leave you with? Would you change the story, as Goto tells us we can?

I'm also very interested in "Tengu's" story, and the revelation that he doesn't have a name. How does this relate to the earlier discussions we've had about naming and renaming in the book? What is the nameless man, alias Tengu's, role in the story, and does his namelessness reflect that role, or somehow challenge it?

I'll also pose the question I asked on Facebook, which is: Both Naoe and Murasaki are told that they have been speaking to their lovers in Japanese since meeting them, without having realized it. What does this tell you about these relationships, and each of their relationship to the language?
As someone who learned enough Japanese to hold a conversation with GREAT difficulty, I think that Japanese and English are too vastly different for such a thing to really be possible, no matter how fluent you are in both - the content of what you are saying changes with the language, not just the sounds. So I take this move on Goto's part to be a kind of magical realism - the same fantastical streak that lets Naoe spontaneously pull off an award-winning gymnastics routine. But why this fantastical detail, or indeed any of them (can you name other examples)? What does it reveal about Naoe's and Murasaki's respective, and collective, stories/story?

Thank you for reading with me, and I hope you'll join me for The Letter Opener next month! I'll start posting about that book in two weeks.

-Carolyn

Thursday 12 May 2016

Chorus of Mushrooms: week six

This week, I'd like to talk about Part Three of Chorus of Mushrooms, as well as some of Part Four - up to Keiko's article in The Herald. This is a very revealing section of the book - we are challenged with a "missing part", where Goto announces "An Immigrant Story With a Happy Ending" and then removes it from the novel. What did you feel when you came across the missing Part Three? Why do you think Goto includes it where she does in relation to the rest of the narrative?

We also get some explanations for Muriel/Murasaki's name given to her by Naoe: those of you familiar with Japanese language and culture may already have recognized that Murasaki not only means "purple", but is also the name of Murasaki Shikibu, the author of The Tale of Genji. What do you know about The Tale of Genji? Why do you think Goto introduces a link between that story and this one? Do you think it is part of what Naoe meant when giving the name to her granddaughter, or is this just Keiko's added interpretation?

Another element of the novel that becomes even more prominent in this section is the identification between Naoe and Murasaki. Naoe tells Tengu that of her own alias, Purple, and the one she gives her granddaughter, Murasaki, "The words are different, but in translation, they come together" (174). Murasaki describes a scene where she becomes her departed grandmother in their house, sitting in her grandmother's chair and retorting to Keiko in Japanese, which she didn't at the time speak. Is this coming together a transformation for Naoe, Murasaki, or both? Or is it merely an intensification of what was already in place? Why is it happening at this point? And where does Keiko, mother to one and daughter to the other of them, belong in this coming-together?


We'll be wrapping up the book online next week, but you can also join us in person this Saturday at 11am to discuss the book. Please share any other thoughts you had while reading this section in the comments, as well as any favourite parts! And remember that if you're finishing up Chorus of Mushrooms, you can get started on our next book for June-July, The Letter Opener by Kyo Maclear.

-Carolyn

Thursday 5 May 2016

Chorus of Mushrooms: week five

Welcome to another instalment of Nikkei Book Club! This week, we're finishing up Part Two of Chorus of Mushrooms.

There's so much happening in Part Two that I hardly know where to start our discussion. The trip to the Oriental grocery store in Calgary? Naoe's fantastic adventures with Tengu? Her telling of the yamanba legend? Muriel's discovery of her family name? But I think what really pulls everything happening in the book right now together is the healing power of food: Muriel/Murasaki heals her mother by cooking tonkatsu for the whole family, while Naoe feasts on Chinese food, saying, "I eat for Murasaki. I eat for Keiko" (148). It's not just any food, either - both Murasaki and Naoe are reconnecting to long-lost food that brings them closer to their heritage. And Murasaki is learning about this food for the first time, through her mysterious psychic link to her grandmother. Meanwhile, "weiners and Cheese Whiz and left-over potato salad" (150) are getting dumped into the garbage. Where do the mushrooms of the Tonkatsu family's farm fit into this spectrum of food, eating, re-connection, and discarding?

Other things I'm thinking about:

Naoe says: "My Japanese eyes are at the back of my head, and they can only see backwards" (110). What does this mean? Would it be possible for this to change for her? How does this statement relate to Keiko and Murasaki?

More funny names in this section: if you didn't know the meaning of Tonkatsu, you do now, and there's also Tengu the truck driver, Naoe's new alias Purple, and Sushi the shop person. Any guesses as to what's going on here?

And some more interesting things about knowing and not knowing: Muriel doesn't know how to make tonkatsu, resorting to trial and error, and she doesn't know how to use chopsticks. But she tells Sushi that she "know[s] what the words mean" on her grandmother's shopping list, without having any idea what they are. And she knows what the mimikaki is on sight. Where is this knowledge coming from, and why is it only for some things and not others?

Can we talk about Shane Wu? Why is he included in Muriel's story?

I'll finish off with an announcement: the June-July book club read will be The Letter Opener by Kyo Maclear. This is a novel with a mystery at its heart: the main character Naiko is a young Japanese Canadian woman whose coworker Andrei suddenly vanishes. Make sure to get a hold of a copy for June!

-Carolyn

Thursday 28 April 2016

Chorus of Mushrooms: week four

This week we start looking at Part Two of Chorus of Mushrooms, which begins with Naoe's departure from the family home (I'm reading up to page 108 in my edition of the book for this week, ending with the part about the salamander). Murasaki doesn't know what happened to her, but makes up several different answers when asked. Why do you think she does this?

I'm also still thinking about what it means to be Asian Canadian in Chorus of Mushrooms. Sometimes, it can mean you know things: how to pick out a Japanese eggplant, how to speak Vietnamese. Other times, it means you don't know things: the difference between a cat and a skunk, for example. And there are other things that Murasaki doesn't know that she or someone else questions, like when the woman in the supermarket asks what a vegetable is called in "your language", assuming she is Chinese. In our latest episode of the Sounds Japanese Canadian to Me podcast, Raymond Nakamura and I talk about going to Japan as a Japanese Canadian and how it can be valuable to get to "know what you don't know", and I think that kind of double-awareness is relevant here: in the supermarket scene, Murasaki doesn't just know about the Japanese eggplant, she also knows what she doesn't know about Chinese vegetables, and she knows what the woman asking her questions expects her to know (Chinese, even though it's not "your language") . Can you think of other ways that Asian Canadian identity is about knowing or not knowing certain things, or certain ways of knowing/not knowing, either in the book or from your own or others' experiences? How are these different ways of knowing/not knowing related to Murasaki's impulse to make up different answers to people asking about her grandmother's fate?

Other things I'm thinking about:

Are the jokes funny? Are there some genuinely funny moments, and others that aren't? How do you tell the difference?


Food is really important in the story: from Naoe's secret stash of dried squid and osenbei to the pomegranate, seaweed, and other things she pilfers from the fridge; and also Murasaki's eggplant and "Jap oranges". Is food a necessary part of (cultural) identity? Why, or if not, why is it so important to Naoe and Murasaki? What food makes you feel connected to your culture/heritage?

Thursday 21 April 2016

Chorus of Mushrooms: week three

By the end of Part One, I'm thinking about the invisible ways that we experience race and racism in Canada. For people like Murasaki and anyone else who doesn't look Caucasian, this is something we deal with on a daily basis from the time we are children onwards. Our parents and grandparents endured name calling, hateful speech, and racist policies from governments and other institutions, and thankfully, these kinds of things are more history than current event. But that doesn't mean that racism has become a thing of the past. 

Murasaki tells her grandmother: "everyone wants to hear stories. And I can't finish them. They scatter like sheep. Like dust" (63). The ways she has been treated because of her race are not obvious, but she still senses they are there. How does the sprinkling of these short anecdotes, like the story of the "Oriental"-looking Valentine, affect the way you experience the other parts of the book - Naoe's internal monologue and stories of her childhood, and Murasaki's later goings-on with her lover? Why include them if they don't seem to lead to a point?

Other things I'm thinking about:

Murasaki seems very casual about the details of her narrative, whether it's how she met her lover - "We could have met anywhere. We could have met, say, in an airport", as if it doesn't matter where they actually met (58). So is Naoe, including things like home perms and Meiji chocolate in her story of Uba-Sute Yama. Does this affect how much you believe other things in the novel so far? Do you believe the fantastical elements? Or does it make you doubt some of the more mundane and otherwise "believeable" details?


Smell is mentioned in interesting ways in this section. Why do you think the author is giving this sense such importance? Is this a realistic detail, a fantastical or symbolic one, or somewhere in between?

Thursday 14 April 2016

Chorus of Mushrooms: week two

We're digging deeper into Chorus of Mushrooms this week - still working our way through Part One, but this time I'm focussing on the section that starts with the story of Izanagi and Izanami, up to the conversation on Highway 2 (pages 29-55 if you have the same edition of the novel that I'm using).
Murasaki describes helping her mother choose new names for Vietnamese refugees who have come to work on the family mushroom farm. Naoe talks about changing her name, and her feelings about the pointlessness of family names being carried forward. There's a lot of re-naming going on in this book - who else gets a new name, and how? How do the different characters feel about this process, and why? What does all of this show us about the characters and the world they live in?

And also, is this related to the uses of English and Japanese in the book and the "translations" or lack thereof? Is it related to the folktale-like stories we're told, like the one of Izanami and Izanagi? If yes, how?

Other things I'm thinking about:

Naoe's and Murasaki's childhoods seem extremely different, but is there anything they have in common? What does each of their stories tell us about the other?


What do we think of the men in this book so far? Shinji seems to have forgotten Japanese even more thoroughly than his wife Keiko; Naoe's former husband Makoto doesn't seem to be the most impressive character. And there's Murasaki's lover as well. What are their roles in the story so far, and what more do you want to know about them?

Thursday 7 April 2016

Chorus of Mushrooms: week one

Hello everyone and welcome to the beginning of our second Nikkei Book Club book discussion! I'm very excited to start reading and discussing Chorus of Mushrooms by Hiromi Goto with you.

*Just a note for everyone about Chorus of Mushrooms: the book is divided into five parts of varying length, so it's not as easy to break it up into sections as Mothertalk. I've broken it up into rough sections to focus my discussion questions on for each week, but I encourage you to read past my arbitrary dividing lines and comment on any part of the book you've come across that resonates with the topics at hand. Try to warn people about spoilers, of course. This week, I'm focussing mostly on the first 29 pages (in my edition) - up to the part about fingers getting frozen in the garage.

When I look at the beginning of Chorus of Mushrooms, I'm immediately struck with all kinds of similarities and parallels with Mothertalk. Both books skirt the line of fiction and non-fiction so you're not sure which is which, but while Mothertalk is (I would argue) usually considered non-fiction, Goto makes sure to tell us that Chorus of Mushrooms ultimately falls on the fiction side of the boundary: "In the process of re-telling personal myth, I have taken tremendous liberties with my grandmother's history. This novel is a departure from historical "fact" into the realms of contemporary folk legend". What sense do you get so far of the book's attitude towards truth? This can include Naoe's, Muriel/Murasaki's, or what you think Hiromi Goto's attitude is. How is the truth useful or important, and how is it overrated? Are there common assumptions that these characters disagree with? Do you agree with what the book and the characters are saying about truth so far?

In particular, I think about this quote about "true" stories: "It's like people want to hear a story, and then, after they're done with it, they can stick the story back to where it came from." (1) Do you agree with this assessment? Are there other reasons why "true" stories like Mary Kiyooka's appeal to you, or don't appeal to you?

And, like in Mothertalk, there's some really interesting back-and-forth between Japanese and English: Murasaki telling her lover a story in Japanese that we read in English, Naoe knowing English but pretending not to and her daughter pretending not to understand Japanese. And yet Muriel/Murasaki and Naoe understand each other even while speaking two different languages. Are actual language barriers of any importance in Chorus of Mushrooms, or are they just stand-ins for other barriers and creators of intimacy? Why do you think language works this way in this particular story, what does that tell you about the world we're entering?


For those of you who read Mothertalk, are there any other things you notice about Chorus of Mushrooms so far that make for an interesting compare/contrast? And whether you're new to the Nikkei Book Club or not, what other books does Chorus of Mushrooms remind you of, and why?

-Carolyn

Tuesday 5 April 2016

Mothertalk: wrapup discussion

Our in-person discussion on Saturday was an intimate, but engaging experience. I'd like to share some of what we discussed for those of you who weren't able to join us here at the museum. And there's no reason the discussion has to end with last Saturday - if you weren't able to join us then, or if you've had more ideas since, please add your thoughts in the comments! And remember that I'll be making posts about our next book, Chorus of Mushrooms by Hiromi Goto, starting this week, so check back on Thursday for that!

We talked about Mothertalk as, as Hiromi Goto puts it on the back cover of the book, "Roy Kiyooka's biography of his mother". It seems more like a memoir, because it's written in first person, but - and without seeing the different working drafts for the book, we're mostly just speculating on this - Roy seems to have arranged his mother's stories as his raw material, like a composer might create a score from existing melodies woven together in new ways. And Daphne Marlatt describes, in her introduction, what sound like rather significant alterations that she made to Roy's manuscript upon his death. I think his death while working on Mothertalk changed the book significantly - completed by his loved ones afterwards, it becomes not just Mary's biography, but also a tribute to Roy and his own work as an artist. This is especially apparent with the inclusion of pieces of his poetry at the beginning of each section of the book. What do you think of this decision? Did you enjoy the poetry, or find it distracting? And do you agree with those of us on Saturday who felt that Roy was indeed the author of the book? What about the role of Daphne Marlatt, or Mary herself - are they also authors of Mothertalk?

Here's a topic for debate: is Mary a typical Issei woman?
On the yes side, we came up with: she bluntly tells us about the harsh conditions for immigrants in Canada, about the circumstances and difficulties of her marriage, and also her acceptance of those difficulties and her choice to stay with her husband, no matter what, for the sake of the children. While other Issei are not always so forthcoming in telling about these difficulties, they do seem to be there in most cases. Mary also seems characteristically Issei due to her enduring love and longing for, and connection to her homeland in Japan, and also from her unbelievable toughness in the face of a life completely different from anything she could have expected, and her willingness to make the best of it.
On the no side: while many families from the samurai class emigrated around the time that Mary did, it was less usual for her to marry outside of the class, and to marry someone already living abroad. And more than that, it was exceptional that she was trained in Iai by her father. Some felt it was a shame that she didn't take over for him!
Do you have anything to add for either side? Is there enough here to make a final judgement of overall "yes", she is a typical Issei woman, or "no", she isn't?

We noticed that most of the women that Mary mentions in Mothertalk, outside of her family, were at some point involved with some kind of prostitution. What does this say about the world she lived in? What kind of attitude does Mary have towards these women, and is that attitude typical for someone of her generation, or progressive?

Do you agree with Mary's decision throughout her life to marry and stay with her husband? Would you have done the same, or when do you think you would have left?

What do you make of the ghost stories? Those of us at the museum on Saturday liked them very much and felt they were part of the Japanese sensibility of the book. But while most of the ghosts Mary describes were in Japan, there is one ghost she mentions that was in Roy's house in Canada (near the end of part 6). What does this tell us about Mary's world, in Japan and in Canada?

Another question, maybe related to the last: are there any parts of the book where you don't believe Mary's version of her story? In addition to the ghost stories, I'm also thinking of the times when Marlatt has added endnotes where Mary's children disagree with what Mary says. Does it matter whose version of the story is how things actually happened?


And there's certainly even more to discuss than what I've already mentioned here. Please share any thoughts you have on Mothertalk in the comments, whether related to these questions or not. And thank you for reading this lovely book along with me. I hope you'll also join me in reading the Asian Canadian favourite Chorus of Mushrooms!

-Carolyn

Thursday 17 March 2016

Mothertalk: appendices etc.

We've worked our way through the main part of Mothertalk, but I wanted to dedicate one post here to the other sections of the book we didn't actively discuss: the intro, the section of family photos and captions in the middle, and the appendices at the end. By now, we know the themes of Mary's story pretty well, and I want to know what you think about what these other parts do to enhance the story. So here's some free-form questions about the overall structure of the book - feel free to share your thoughts on any or all of them in the comments:

How does reading "Papa's version" change how you think of Mary's story, and her description of her husband, if at all? Does the different circumstances of their interviews affect this?

What did you think of the inclusion of Roy's poetry before each section of his mother's story? Did it add to your experience, or shape your understanding of Mary differently?

What about Roy's writing in the second and third appendices - how do they affect how you understand Mary's story, especially considering that this is Mary's story as written by Roy?

Why do you think Daphne Marlatt chose to include the photographs and their commentary all together in the middle of the book, instead of scattered throughout?

Who is most the author of this book, if you have to choose just one: Mary Kiyoshi Kiyooka, Roy Kiyooka, or Daphne Marlatt? Why? What roles do the others play in your mind? Who else had a hand in the shaping of the story?

What else do you want to talk about?

While this is the week for us to have our sum-up discussion online, remember that everyone is also invited to discuss the book in person at Nikkei Centre in Burnaby (6688 Southoaks Crescent, at the corner of Kingsway and Sperling) on April 2 at 2pm in the tatami room. I look forward to seeing some of you there! And don't forget to pick up a copy of Chorus of Mushrooms to start reading for April!

-Carolyn

Thursday 10 March 2016

Mothertalk, part 6: Landscape-of-the-Heart

Already we're at the end of the book! I hope you've been enjoying Mothertalk and are planning on picking up a copy of our next book club book, Chorus of Mushrooms by Hiromi Goto, in time to start discussing it in April. It's available at our museum shop, or you can look for it online or at your favourite bookstore or library.

This week, we're looking at the final section of Mothertalk, "Landscape-of-the-Heart". Since the previous section took us more or less to the "present day" of Mary's life at the time that she was interviewed, this final section feels a bit like an epilogue to me - some final reflections after the story has been wrapped up. Mainly what we see is that Japan is still front and centre in Mary's heart and mind, as was the case for many of her generation. She goes from telling us stories from her father's youth as a samurai, to what became of her nephew in Japan, and mentions many visits she and her children have made over the years. Each of the Kiyookas seems to have their own, in different ways conflicted, relationship to being Japanese and being Canadian. In particular, Mary has always described her husband "Papa" as rather Westernized, and wanting to leave Japan behind, but in his old age, he reverts to speaking his Kochi dialect of Japanese rather than English, and even before that urges Mary to make sure that a monument in honour of her father is erected in Japan, despite refusing to take up his legacy many years earlier. What do you make of this change of heart? In what ways is it similar to or different from Mary's relationship to Japan, or their children's? How have all these different attitudes towards Japan influenced each other - for example, Mary wanting her children to visit Japan?

Other things I'm thinking about:

What do you think of Mary's friend who died in Tosa with the word "Boston" on his lips? Do you think he was happy in the end?

Why do you think there is one last ghost story included in this section, this one set in Canada? How is it related to the other stories in the section, and to the other ghost stories in earlier parts of the book?

What other parts of this section did you find interesting and why?

I'll make one more post about Mothertalk next week, to give us a chance to discuss the appendices and assorted "other" sections of the book. And remember that April 2 is our in-person discussion at Nikkei Centre, 6688 Southoaks Crescent, Burnaby, BC, at 2pm in the tatami room. I hope some of you are able to join us for some real-time discussion, as there's a lot of things to talk about in this book that I wasn't able to touch on in my prompts! I look forward to seeing some of you then.

-Carolyn

Thursday 3 March 2016

Mothertalk, part 5: A Bitter Pill to Swallow

This section covers the years starting from Mary and her family's experiences of the Second World War and the backlash against Japanese Canadians, and covers most of the years after that as well. It's very interesting to me to read about the Kiyooka family's experience during the war, because unlike most Japanese Canadian families, they had been living outside of BC for years prior to the forced relocation away from the coast. So while they weren't legally ordered to leave where they were, they still experienced severe discrimination which led them to leave Calgary for a farm in Opal, Alberta. In the end, though, much of what Mary describes sounds very familiar to those who know about Japanese Canadian history - having to leave their home behind, learning to farm from scratch, and even seeing her children grow up and marry non-Japanese women and men. How does the Kiyooka family's story fit into the overarching narratives of Japanese Canadian experience? What sounds familiar, and what is unusal or unique? How does your prior knowledge of Japanese Canadian history, whether it's a lot or a little, change the way you look at Mary's story?

For anyone who is newer to Japanese Canadian history, or wants a bit of a brush-up for this comparison, find a useful, quick overview here: http://www.japanesecanadianhistory.net/the_war_years.htm

Other things I'm thinking about:

What do you make of Mary's summary of each of her children's marital lives?

This section is the one that has the most endnotes with interjections from Mary's children, explaining their side of the story and insisting on the inaccuracy of Mary's version. The strongest instance of this is the story Mary tells about Frank slipping his dying father some fake brandy, which Frank flatly denies. How do you look at the conflicting versions of the stories? Do you have an opinion on whose version is closer to the truth? 

What other parts of this section did you find interesting and why?

A reminder that our in-person discussion is coming up next month, on Saturday, April 2 at 2pm, in the Nikkei Centre tatami room. And our next book, for April and May, will be Chorus of Mushrooms by Hiromi Goto. Chorus of Mushrooms is a novel about storytelling, identity, and intergenerational connection, through the story of a Japanese Canadian girl and her grandmother living on a mushroom farm in Alberta. I'm very excited to be (re)reading this beautiful book with you!

I hope you'll join in the discussion on Mothertalk again next week, when we'll be discussing the last section of the book. Until then, I look forward to reading your thoughts about this one!


-Carolyn

Thursday 25 February 2016

Mothertalk, part 4: Keeping the Dream of Uniting the Family Alive

Another week, another section of Mothertalk! I've loved reading your comments on the book so far. We've had some interesting observations about how Mary, as a woman, still carried on the samurai spirit in her own way even while following a mostly typical life path for women at the time (marriage and children). People also seem to be enjoying Mary's different perspective on Japanese Canadian history, which doesn't gloss over the hardships or heartbreaks of her difficult life and marriage. This only gets more true as we read the next section, "Keeping the Dream of Uniting the Family Alive".

I find a lot of the stories in this section heartbreaking in small ways, ways that add up to show the bigger painful experiences of Mary's life. Mary talks more about how it felt to be separated from her two eldest children, George and Mariko, when she left them to be raised by their grandparents in Japan, and perhaps more painfully, how it felt when they finally were reunited as almost-strangers. We also hear some things about her younger children whom she raised in Canada, such as Harry and Roy's antics and injuries. Mary notes that the younger children have a bond from growing up together sharing beds in their small East Calgary house, and also from growing up "in a white man's world" (115). But I think it would be too simple to say that Mary was close to her younger children and alienated from George and Mariko: after all, at the time she told these stories, Mary was living with Mariko, and she talks about how George and Mariko are the only ones who understand her culture and also the only ones who speak her language in a meaningful way, since they were also raised in Japan. Moreover, George did join the family at age thirteen, and Mary brought her infant daughter Irene to Japan with her to visit Mariko for two years, from 1938 to 1940. In what ways do you think the Kiyookas like a tight-knit family? How are they not?

Other things I'm thinking about:

Mary tells more stories about women who became prostitutes in this section, including situations on both sides of the Pacific. Why do you think she tells so many different anecdotes related to prostitution? How does the story about the Japanese brothel compare to other stories Mary has told?

Another thread running through this section is Mary's memories of the political and economic conditions at the time: in particular, the Great Depression and the fallout with the Chinese Canadian community after Japanese aggression in Manchuria. How do Mary's allusions to these events as parts of her life relate to your previous knowledge and ways of thinking about them as history? Do they seem interconnected with the other stories in this section, or merely incidental?

What other parts of this section did you find interesting and why?

Next week is part 5, when we learn about the Kiyookas' life during the period of Japanese Canadian internment. It'll be a fascinating discussion, and I hope you'll join us again! I'll also be announcing the next Nikkei book club pick for April/May...stay tuned!


-Carolyn

Thursday 18 February 2016

Mothertalk, part 3: All Caught Up in Our Canadian Lives

In the third section, "All Caught Up in Our Canadian Lives", we learn about the early years of Mary's marriage, including the birth of her first two children, George and Mariko, and her two-year visit back to her family in Japan. Mary also shares stories about women she knew who had affairs or dabbled in prostitution to help make ends meet, a practice she says was ordinary in the circumstances. What leaps out at me from these disparate stories is the restrictions that women of Mary's generation lived their lives under, and the kinds of lives they had to lead. What would have happened if Mary had chosen to leave her marriage, either by following Japanese divorce customs by returning to her father's family, running away with the Osaka man, or with the help of a samurai nuptial sword? Would either of the first two options have yielded her a happier life? And what does her choice to stay with her husband say about her? Is it a sign of her character as an individual in some way, or of the strength of her culture's influence on her - because a Meiji man and woman, even in Canada, marry for keeps?

Other things I'm thinking about:

There have been a few rather violent stories scattered throughout the book so far. What does this say about the world Mary lived in? Do you think these stories are extraordinary? Does Mary imply some kind of moral from them?

Mary says she never learned much English, but enough to be able to speak her mind. In fact, this book is a translation from her own original words, but one written by her son in a way that tried to mimick her voice. How would this story be different if we were reading it in Japanese? Is it easy to forget that the text is a translation?

What other parts of this section did you find interesting and why?

Be sure to check back next week for some discussion on part 4!

-Carolyn

Thursday 11 February 2016

Mothertalk, part 2: No Notion of What Was in Store for Me

I hope you're enjoying Mothertalk so far as much as I am! This week we're discussing the second part, "No Notion of What Was in Store for Me", where Mary talks about the circumstances around her marriage to "Papa", Shigekiyo Kiyooka, and her subsequent emigration from Japan to Canada. Other than telling us a bit about Papa, Mary also includes anecdotes about other marriages she witnessed, namely those of her own parents and Papa's, as well as the picture brides who were with her on the boat to Canada.

It's interesting to me that Mary's husband had emigrated to Canada several years before they married, and had already learned English and acquired a taste for Western food. He seems to be Westernized in several ways, yet he still returns to Japan to find a bride. Mary also mentions that he was an eldest son, which means he would have been expected to stay in Japan to carry on as head of the family after his father, and yet he chose to live in Canada permanently. Mary, on the other hand, seems to place a lot of emphasis on the samurai traditions of her upbringing, and by her own admission showed little interest in leaving her hometown. They may both have been Japanese, and from the same region, but how much did they really have in common?

Other things I'm thinking about:

What do you think of Mary's description of her brother? How would you compare him to Mary's father and husband, and how might that have affected her relationships with each of them?

How do you think the many years that have passed since Mary first met her husband and thought about leaving Tosa for Japan might affect the way she speaks about that time now? Also, how does it change the story to know that Mary is telling it for her son to write?

What other parts of this section did you find interesting and why?

I look forward to hearing what you think in the comments! Next week, I will summarize our discussion, and post questions for part 3.

-Carolyn

Thursday 4 February 2016

Mothertalk, part 1: My Heart's True Country

Welcome to the very first instalment of the Nikkei National Museum and Cultural Centre's Nikkei book club! We'll be reading and discussing Mothertalk: Life Stories of Mary Kiyoshi Kiyooka, by Roy Kiyooka in February and March. You can join the conversation by commenting on these blog posts, and also on Facebook and Twitter, where I'll be posting condensed discussion topics. We'll also be hosting an in-person discussion on April 2 at 2pm. Mothertalk is available in the museum shop, or find it online or at your favourite bookstore.

This first section of the book contains Mary's memories of Japan, where she grew up in the remote Kochi prefecture in the Meiji era, a daughter of the samurai class. Although her father was a well-respected Iai master, under the new system of government in Japan he was no longer employed, and so the family was poor.

On Facebook and Twitter, I asked what people thought about how Mary's samurai family background affected her relationship to Japan and Japanese culture. Since Mary's brother wasn't very strong, her father in many ways raised and educated her as a son, training her in the bushido code of values. But Mary went on to live a very different life, emigrating with her non-samurai husband to Canada, where the class system was very different. Mary also talks about the connections she has maintained to Japan throughout her life in Canada, including stories from her many trips back to visit. She says that she, like many issei (immigrant generation), would like to return to Japan, and that her home will always be Tosa. Is this surprising to you, given that she has lived almost her entire adult life in Canada, or not? Why? Do you think she would feel the same way if her childhood or her family's position had been different in some ways?

A couple other things I am thinking about:

Mary says she is not too sure how class works in Canada, where the distinctions are not as rigidly defined as in Japan. What would you tell her?

What do you think of the story of the one-eyed woman who became a Christian? How does it shape your understanding of Mary's life and values?

What other parts of this section did you find interesting and why?

Please respond in the comments below! Next week, I will summarize our discussion, and post some questions for part 2. Stay tuned!

-Carolyn

Thursday 28 January 2016

Mothertalk: Life Stories of Mary Kiyoshi Kiyooka, by Roy Kiyooka

Welcome to the Nikkei Book Club blog! The Nikkei Book Club is run by the Nikkei National Museum in Burnaby, British Columbia, Canada. More about us here.

The Nikkei community is full of great stories and great writers. When looking at all the wonderful literature out there, sometimes it's hard to know where to start! I'm taking some inspiration from the book selection in our little museum shop. We have quite a few literary gems in stock which I'd love to share and discuss with you. Whether you pick up a copy here at the museum, or find it at your local bookstore or library, I hope you'll join in the conversation with me.

We're starting off our book club with Roy Kiyooka's Mothertalk: Life Stories of Mary Kiyoshi Kiyooka in February and March. Part memoir, part translation, part oral history, it's not just an enjoyable read, but also an engaging personal look at the life of one issei (first-generation Japanese immigrant) Canadian woman, and a touching tribute to a close, but culturally divided, mother-son relationship.

This book has an intriguing history - Nisei poet and artist Roy Kiyooka wanted to write his mother's life story, but his Japanese, like her English, was only rudimentary. So he had his friend, a Japanese translator, interview her and create a rough translation of what she said. Roy then rewrote her stories to recreate the rhythm and spirit of her Meiji-era Tosa dialect of Japanese in English.

While still in the midst of this project, Roy passed away suddenly in 1994. His family then asked the poet Daphne Marlatt, Roy's former partner, to finish editing the book so it could be published. Marlatt tells the story in more detail in the introduction to Mothertalk.

Check back next week for some discussion questions on the first section of Mothertalk, "My Heart's True Country", about Mary's childhood and ancestral home of Tosa in Japan. There will be a blog post, and you can also follow along on our Facebook page and Twitter feed. We'll also be holding an in-person meeting to discuss the book once we've reached the end, on Saturday, April 2 at 2pm at the Nikkei National Museum in Burnaby (6688 Southoaks Crescent).

Until next week, happy reading!
Carolyn Nakagawa
Arts Administration Intern | Nikkei National Museum