“All I’d seen day after day was Gion, so much so that I’d come to think Gion was everything, and that the only thing that mattered in the world was Gion. But now that I was outside Kyoto, I could see that for most people life has nothing to do with Gion at all; and of course, I couldn’t stop from thinking of the other life I’d once led.
Grief is a most peculiar thing; we’re so hopeless in the face of it. It’s like a window that will simply open of its own accord. The room grows cold, and we do nothing but shiver. But it opens a little less each time, and a little less; and one day we wonder what has become of it.”
Memoirs of a Geisha
By Arthur Golden
Finally, I’m done with this one.
You’ve probably seen the movie 48 years ago and learned more than any that it’s not your mom’s throw pillow you tie at the back of one’s kimono. And for those who dismissed the book on the (de)merits of the motion picture: understand Sayuri’s life and share her mortal thoughts on friendship, family, sex and I suspect even love by letting Arthur Golden himself tell you the story.
Arigato arigato gozaimasu domo arigato gozaimashita.
‘Til the next entry.
24 September 2006