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[161] The Teahouse Fire – Ellis Avery

“As I purified each utensil under the kiri [paulownia] dome, I felt her beside me, prodding me here and there with her fan: like so, like so. I felt her as I had when I was small, folding her fingers around mine, her hands now as blasted with age as my own…I gently tapped tea into the bowl, hearing Yukako more with my hands than my ears…My body had known hers this intimately, I thought.” [389]

The Teahouse Fire sets in late 19th century Kyoto when pressure of intense Westernization impinges on traditional Japanese culture and customs. Aurelia Bernard, an American orphan, has followed her missionary uncle to Miyako (now Kyoto) where the team aspires to evangelize Japan, in secret, because the imperial city is closed to foreigners. One night in 1866, fleeing both her uncle and a fire that sweeps the city, the little girl takes shelter in the beautiful Baishian Teahouse where Shin Yukako, daughter of Kyoto’s most revered tea master, has adopted her as a maid, and later a surrogate younger sister.

The next thirty years have seen drastic changes in both Japan and the Shin family’s fortune, as the emperor professes allegiance to Western ideas and implements cultural reformation. He has decreed an end to feudal aristocracy. The new cultural program dismisses chado (the Way of Tea) as an archaic pastime that it is better to be abandoned than subsidized by the government. We see the vicissitude of the Shin through the eyes of Aurelia, who is renamed Urako, who navigates through a culture that is not always accepting of outsiders.

As Yukako lavishes wisdom and generosity upon Urako, Avery brings the conflicts of modernization into the teahouse, where the art of temae, tea-preparing ceremony, begins to fall out of favor. Yukako, struggling to bring money in for the family, crosses class lines and gives temae lessons to a geisha in exchange for the lessons of the shamisen, a string instrument. Eventually stuck in a painful marriage, she adapts the ancient tea ceremony to cater the changing need, resulting in a breath-taking confrontation.

Outwardly the novel depicts changes from a Shogun society to imperialism, but the bottom line is about finding one’s place in a country undergoing changes and striving to retain its inveterate traditions. While Urako struggles to fit in, pedaling against disrespect and insinuations, Yukako also finds herself in an awkward position of gender politics. Urako’s memoir illustrates how the Japanese have fortified themselves against foreigners. As the elderly Aurelia narrates the story, which is somewhat disjointed and sporadic (sometimes I feel the details that should not be taken for granted are missing, leaving a lot of gap), we are let into what begins as grateful puppy love for Yukako matures over the years into a deeply painful unrequited obsession. It would be a more powerful story if Avery has just focused on these two and the ceremony, because the proliferation of characters and branching off of the main plot, which she has a difficult time bringing back to the fold, have put the book on slow wheels.

Red Thread, Endless Story

An ancient Chinese proverb speaks of a silken red thread of destiny which connects one person to another. It is said that this magical cord may tangle or stretch out but never break. At the wedding I was reminded of this traditional practice at the sight of a red thread tied up around the wrists of the bride and groom. The same red thread also ties up two pair of coconuts, which pronounced as “ye zi”, symbolize “grandfather and son” with the implication of bearing lots of children.

“An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet,
regardless of time, place, or circumstance.
The thread may stretch or tangle,
but it will never break.”

The red thread comes up in the reading of The Teahouse Fire by Ellis Avery today. The legend has since also become a popular myth in Japanese culture and other East Asian cultures.

“There’s a red thread that ties you to the person you’re going to marry. I thought Akio was at the other end of mine, but he wasn’t. It’s not up to me. Do you understand? So it doesn’t matter.” [138]

My mother used to tell me that love and marriage at her times were very simple. There weren’t that many places where one can meet people. Parents usually kept curfew that girls had to come home earlier than Cinderella did. Their future husbands might be a neighbor, a co-worker, or a family relation that paid visit at the house. I can’t help wondering why, with so much possibility for connection, aren’t people feel more connected to one another on a personal, intimate level? Did the scarcity of connections then actually make it easier for people to commit to a relationship? I see a world of people who are fearful of committing, who are haunted by their failure, and whose red threads are all entangled.

Endless Story – Yuna Ito

If you haven’t changed your mind
Then I want you by my side Tonight

I’m so tired of always having to bluff
Everytime I think about you baby, I feel so young
If I could just tell you I miss you
It’s so hard to say I’m sorry

You see, I want to sing this song, not for just anyone
but just for you
An ENDLESS STORY that keeps on shining
Always, I wanna show you, forever and ever

Memories of our time together
this way, they don’t go away

Once I knew that the warmth between us had disappeared,
gentle tears started to spread over my chest
This is not where it ends, I’m missing you
please don’t let go of my hand

You see, I wish I could sing this song, just for you
just one more time
An ENDLESS STORY of undying love
tell me why, please tell me, forever and ever

You see, I want to sing this song, not for just anyone
but just for you
An ENDLESS STORY that keeps on shining
Always, I wanna show you, forever and ever

You see, I wish I could sing this song, just for you
just one more time
An ENDLESS STORY of undying love
tell me why, please tell me, forever and ever

Japanese Literature

Note: This is a pre-programmed post. I’m in Hong Kong for a wedding until Monday, October 6. I will attend to all your comments when I return. Don’t forget to stop by on Monday as I’ll be hosting a stop in the TLC Book Tour for Capote in Kansas by Kim Powers.

I’m aware of the Japanese Reading Challenge, which requires three books in any genres: novel, poetry, graphical novel, and children’s books. The two I’ll share with you might not qualify because the authors aren’t Japanese, but they have been well-received by readers in local bookstores. I picked up these books (both published this year) a while ago waiting to snap into the mood for them.

The Teahouse Fire by Ellis Avery is set in late nineteenth century Japan. It’s the story of Aurelia, a young French-American girl who, after the death of her mother and her missionary uncle, finds herself lost and alone and in need of a new family. Knowing only a few words of Japanese she hides in a Japanese tea house and is adopted by the family who own it: gradually falling in love with both the Japanese tea ceremony and with her young mistress, Yukako.

The novel is drawn from a history shrouded in secrets about two women, it also portrays resplendent tea parties that women, other than those who are entertaining, are not welcome. Japan’s warriors and well-off men would gather in tatami-floored structures—teahouses—to participate in an event that was equal parts ritual dance and sacramental meal.

The Commoner by John Burnham Schwartz is a fictionalized reconstruction of the private history of Haruko, a young woman of good family, who marries the Crown Prince of Japan, the heir to the Chrysanthemum Throne, in 1959. She is the first non-aristocratic woman to enter the longest-running, almost hermetically sealed, and mysterious monarchy in the world. Met with cruelty and suspicion by the Empress and her minions, Haruko is controlled at every turn. The only interest the court has in her is her ability to produce an heir. After finally giving birth to a son, Haruko suffers a nervous breakdown and loses her voice. However, determined not to be crushed by the imperial bureaucrats, she perseveres.