Fairytale of a Geisha

In my current anxiety ridden state of life I have been trying a bunch of different things to calm myself down. My anxiety first reared its disgusting head when I went away to college, and now I'm a senior who has frequent anxiety attacks and has succeeded into worrying herself into full blown sickness at least three times now, if not more. One of the ways I have tried to combat my caffeine coerced, probably going to develop a heart condition, life is by slowing down and trying to read more. Getting away from screens is difficult for a film major and social media addict like me, so I figured that going back to the printed page would help to de-stress my life a little, even if only for a moment.

Since November I have read one extremely shitty obscure fantasy novel I won't even both naming because I have nothing good to say about it, Slaughterhouse Five, Fight Club, and I just finished Memoirs of a Geisha. After Slaughterhouse and Fight Club I felt like I really gained a better understanding of the minds of men, and completely unintentionally took a dramatic swing back into the realm of estrogen and femininity.

I was initially attracted to Memoirs of a Geisha because I not only love historical fiction, but I also have a fondness for Japan. I remember seeing the commercials for the movie back when I was in fifth grade, before my introduction to Japanese culture, and I was enthralled by the beautiful women in the kimonos and the strange world they inhabited. So when I found a copy of it in a thrift shop in December, it brought to mind the sad dancing girl from the commercial I had seen all those years ago, and I was curious to know her story.

What I expected form the book was the story of a young girl who becomes a Geisha and some sort of strange love story that resulted in her growth as a character, interspersed with actual history and practices of Geisha during the time surrounding WWII. While the latter was correct, the story of a girls growth into a woman on the other hand was replaced with a watered down fairytale. Poor little Chiyo/Sayuri spends the entire novel pining after a single man, who she has almost little to no contact with other than ogling at him at dinner parties. Then after fantasizing about him the entire time he magically comes to her rescue and confesses he has been madly in love with her the entire time as well. They live happily ever after, nullifying nearly every conflict in the entire book.

Up until the last chapter this book had such potential. It could have been a beautiful tragedy where the Chairman, upon seeing her with the Minister, is so disgusted he tells Nobu, and together they destroy her reputation. Getting her kicked out of the Nitta okiya and forced to become a prostitute, she could die alone realizing she threw away her life pining for a man who never knew her. Or she could re-unite with her sister miraculously and end up back in her hometown, realizing that rural life is more fulfilling because everything carries a weight and she is more than a pretty sexual object to be enjoyed by men. However, the way I really hoped this book would end was that Nobu would become Sayuri's danna and that she would truly love him.

I'm sure that not a lot of you share my sentiment, after all, Nobu is pretty much an ass the entire book. But he is also one of the only men who really talks to Sayuri like she is a person. Everyone else talks to her like she is a child or a sexual object, but he treats her as he treats every one, and not only that but he gives her the opportunity to challenge him. I wished so many times that Sayuri would talk back to Nobu when he was attacking her for no reason, because he is the kind of person who needs that. Or at least I think he is. From what I read, Nobu was a man who desperately wanted to be loved, and he thought that Sayuri loved him so he did everything in he power to love her in return. But unfortunately she was too dumb and selfish to realize that and continued to pine for a man she barely knew. She never learned anything, she never grew. But if she had I think she would have recognized how much Nobu loved her and learned about to love him back.

I suppose that the Chairman-ex-machina was the "happiest" way the books could have ended, but it made Sayuri's character become completely unrealistic. Her downfall was set up eloquently with this bit of monologue from chapter twenty-nine:

"What if I came to the end of my life and realized that I'd spent everyday watching for a man who would never come to me? What an unbareable sorrow it would be, to realize I'd never really tasted the things I'd eaten, or seen the place's I'd been, because I'd thought of nothing but the Chairman even while my life was drifting away from me. And yet if I drew my thoughts back from him, what life would I have? I would be like a dancer who had practiced since childhood for a performance she would never give."

After that point I knew I was reading a woman written by a man. Our lives aren't completed by the presence or commitment of a man. They may add to our happiness in a way, but they do not fulfill our purpose for living or sustain our hope. By choosing the Chairman at the end of the book Sayuri confirmed that without him her life would have no purpose and she could be nothing without him. She could have made herself into so much more, but she choose to stay in objectified limbo, refusing to grow or develop into a real woman. The ending unraveled the reality the author was trying to weave into his fiction, and in the end the loose ends were tied up too well.

On a side note, I think that the reason I am so biased about Nobu is because I have someone very similar to Nobu in my own life. Reading his dialogue in the book reminded me of conversations I have had with this man in the past, which was something I was not expecting when I was first introduced to the character. I was swayed by Nobu's blunt crassness and felt like I could see the tender heart behind the scar tissue, because I am very fond of the man Nobu reminds me of. He has two arms, and no facial scars, but he has had a rough life and might as well have been partially blow up by a bomb. He has also had many a pretty girl walk in and out of his life, vying for his attention, playing with his heart, and then doing their own version of sleeping with the Minister. Like Sayuri, these girls never once thought of how their actions might affect him because he was a hard man, and a man like that couldn't possibly have his heart broken. Would he react angrily? Yes. But to be wounded on an emotional level? Never. Just because a man can take a hit does not justify you taking a swing at him.

I do admit that my own feelings definitely affected the way I read and enjoyed this book, but so does everyone. Regardless of what you think, I do not like the fairytale ending and the completely unrealistic portrayal of a woman that is Sayuri. I know that a lot of Japanese people were offended by this book, but honestly I would have to do a lot more research before I could even begin to discuss that topic.

Despite my complaints, over all I really did enjoy the book. Arthur Golden's style really does capture what I feel like is a very good look into what Japan might have been like in the 1940s, just from what little I do know about Japanese culture. Even if it wasn't, the world he created and the characters that inhabited it were interesting and well written (besides maybe Sayuri). I would recommend it if you are looking for a well written, culturally different book with a happy ending.

Quotes:
"This is why dreams can be such dangerous things: they smolder on like a fire does, and sometimes consume us completely."

"Young girls hope all sorts of foolish things, Sayuri. Hopes are like hair ornaments. Girls want to wear too many of them. When they become old women they look silly wearing even one."

"Adversity is like a strong wind. I don't mean just that it holds us back from the places we might otherwise go. It also tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that afterward we see ourselves as we really are, and not merely as we might be."

Jessica Jones and the Haunting Blue Flashes of Reality

            When the superhero craze started in the early 2000s I was all about it, but now almost fifteen years later let me just say that I have had my fill of super suits, bad guys, and sequel after sequel of essentially the same story. Guy discovers he has powers. Villain tricks guy. Guy wins with the power of virtues. Guy gets girl who randomly pops up throughout the film for almost no reason. It has become all about making an awesome action film, where superhero stories were designed to create heroes to fight the villains that we felt threatened by in our world. Thieves. Gangs. Nazis. Evil corporations. Communists. They were the early villains and superheroes were our way of dreaming how we might stop them given the chance. They were dreams, and now they are nightmares. Everywhere you turn there is a new supermovie coming out, and its getting exhausting. We are being haunted by nicely designed (or not) characters that are fun to watch for an hour or so (or not), but in reality are forgettable amongst the sea of similar supers.

            For all of the reasons in the rant above, I decided that I did not want to watch Jessica Jones, Marvel’s newest Netflix supershow. I was tired and unimpressed. However, let me just say that I was completely surprised by what I saw in that first episode. Jones was visceral and real. It evoked a fear in me that I have never felt for a villain. I was tense and uncomfortable almost the entire show, and I know that a lot if not all of it had to do with the fact that I have had a taste of her fear in my life. The fear of utter helplessness. The fear of knowing that something un-locatable is out there to destroy you. The fear of turning the corner and it finding you. The fear of womanhood.

            Jessica Jones is by all standards a nightmare, but it is the nightmare we need to have.

            In the show, nowhere better is this nightmare brought to life than when Jessica, alone and unguarded, has flashes of the man who abused her. The color of the shot changes dramatically to bright neon blues and purples, and for a second his past words or touch enter her present. He haunts her in these blue flashes, perfectly capturing the feeling of when the raw nerve of a past trauma is plucked by seemingly small moments in your life.

            I have my own blue flashes. Granted, they are not from nearly as traumatic of experiences, but I have them all the same. The first happens anytime I hold and object between my teeth in the front of my mouth, like a pen or a chopstick. In a flash of blue I gasp, involuntarily sucking in air as a quickly relive the moment a toothbrush stabbed a quarter sized hole in the back of my soft pallet at the age of ten. At the time I got the brilliant idea to finish brushing my teeth underneath a crib, which ended with my having a hole in the back of my mouth and less than an inch of toothbrush sticking out from between my lips. Today you will never see me hold anything between my teeth. I will still hold things with my lips or hold it to the side so it can’t slide down into my mouth, but never between my teeth. My blue flash always reminds me, and an echo of soreness holds in my throat just to make sure I’ve listened.

            The other blue flash in my life I have decided not to go into more detail about on the world wide web. (Originally when I wrote this article the first time I had a long section located here about the second and much more intense blue flash in my life. But as I have decided to post this on a public site with my name attached to it I have decided to omit it. If you are curious feel free to e-mail me, I'm open to share. I just don't want to throw up the intimate details about my life that my family or friends might stumble upon.)

            These moments leave raw nerves dancing out on the edges of your soul and just like when you stub your pinky toe, when they are touched it is intense, unexpected, and violently painful physically, emotionally, and mentally. Never in a TV show have a seen them capture what it is to have these moments. For those of us who have them Jessica Jones can be jarring, but for those of you who don’t I pray that you hear what this nightmare is trying to teach you. This is what it feels like to be haunted by your past.

            That being said I am not some delicate snowflake you need to dance around, and if you pluck one of my nerves I’m not going to hate you for it. The blue flashes are a part of my life now, they are a piece of what makes me “me.” I write this not to say, “this is how you all can conform better to my life and make me more comfortable.” But instead to simply have you know what that kind of pain in my life feels like and how well it has been captured by the folks behind Jessica Jones. It is like a blue flash that carries you back to the worst moment of your life. It is a nightmare.

            I hope that through the rest of the show, like I said I’ve only watched the first episode, Jessica Jones becomes the dream of those who have blue flashes. I hope that she is able to overcome the monster that frayed the nerves of her soul. And I hope that when she defeats him the blue flashes don’t stop, because I know mine probably never will. May Miss Jones grow from a nightmare to a dream without losing the reality of the lesson on pain and the blue flashes.

            

After Five Years I Have Returned

Well, its been a while blogger. I don't think I've been on you since 2010, which at the time I was 16, in 10th grade, and deep into my anime phase. Well I've been needing a discreet place to start posting some more personal stuff so why not this hole of teen detritus that has been sitting empty for years?

Just to make sure that I don't actually lose this I took a screen cap of what my old profile looked like before I changed it. God, I am so glad that I have changed.

Now I'm 21, in film school at the University of Texas, and I haven't watched and anime or touched a manga in years. I have learned a lot. Dated a few boys. Made several big "life path" sort of decisions. And I cringe at pretty much everything I have ever posted on here. This should be fun.


So lets see how long I keep this thing up, maybe I'll break my record of three posts.