5 comments about Long Ago In France: The Years In Dijon (Destinations).

1. With her usual wit and style, MFK Fisher brings the food and atmosphere of Dijon alive. It is a fun book, perfect as an introduction to a way of life that is both foreign and dated. The delights of the table set by an eccentric landlady and shared with a variety of characters from the building, are extravegant. Fisher also draws a picture of the town's restaurants, markets, and life.
   
   A good read.



2. This is an enjoyable, tantalizing book, with some dull spots in the earlier chapters. It is an account of Fisher's 3 years in Dijon, where she moved in 1929 so that her new husband could pursue a doctorate. She was 20 years old, bright, pretty, charming, in love, and most of all, enthusiastic. The reader gets caught up in all this, so as to overlook the book's serious drawback. Fisher can write very nicely, but you learn much more about her landladies than her husband. Fisher says of her sister Norah, "she TOO speaks always with reserve" (caps mine). The book is written as if you are already acquainted with Fisher, as no doubt many readers are, but for the rest I would recommend, before starting the book, that they look up M.F.K. Fisher in Google and thereby get to the site about Fisher sponsored by Les Dames d'Escoffier International.



3. `Long Ago in France' by premier American food writer M.F.K. Fisher was one of her last autobiographical memoirs of life in France. She may not have invented the `American in Europe' memoir exemplified by Peter Mayle's `My Year in Provence' and Frances Mayes `Under the Tuscan Sun', but she certainly helped define the genre with this work as well as `Map of Another Town', `A Considerable Town', and parts of many of her other autobiographical works such as `The Gastronomical Me'.
   
   The events in this book, covering much of the first three years of Ms. Fisher's life with her first husband, Al Fisher, spent in a private boarding house in Dijon while hubby Fisher was completing his doctoral dissertation at the University in Dijon. The period of this book occupies a scant seven pages in `Poet of the Appetites', the biography of Ms. Fisher by Joan Reardon, yet the original book reveals practically nothing about the life of husband and wife Fisher. It certainly does not give any clue to why they ended up in Dijon, since their original intention was to study at the more prestigious university in Strasbourg.
   
   This is the first complete work of M.F.K. Fisher's I have read and I feel just a little disappointment. The word pictures of living and eating in Dijon are certainly illuminating, but there is practically none of the humor you find in the books from Mayles and Mayes. There is also less of the scintillating writing I have sampled in some of her more famous pieces. By the author's own admission, much of this material is also a reworking of material from earlier published works as much as it is new stuff mined from her journals of this period.
   
   The most obvious omission is a sense of the troubling times in which these events take place. The three years covered in the narrative are from 1929 through 1931, yet there is virtually no mention of the great depression as it affects Dijon, let alone how it affects the writer and her husband. Oddly, the same is true of Fisher's life as described by her biographer. Fisher's father was the editor, publisher, and owner of a small newspaper in California who did much to subsidize the student life of the young Fishers and of Mary Frances through several difficult years between marriages. Yet, there is practically no mention of this in the writings by and about Fisher.
   
   This book is essential reading for anyone interested in Ms. Fisher's life and the influences on her writing, as she is easily, in the twentieth century American culinary world, the Wittgenstein to Julia Child's Einstein. That is the much lesser known theorist of culinary desire matched with the incomparable practitioner of culinary technique, both of whom got their inspiration from the food and cooking of France.
   
   Yet, compared to similar works by probably less talented writers, this book is just a bit flat and dusty, befitting its recollections of events over sixty years before in the author's life. The stories of life are illuminating. The stories of people are a little empty, as all characters other than Mary Frances herself are long gone from the stage.



4. MFK Fisher holds a special place in the hearts of all `foodie' Americans. She was perhaps the 1st person to see the sense of writing food-based literary books and articles, and of course it's now a genre unto itself. But few have rivaled her beautiful prose, and I recall reading that she once said she considered it a day well-lived if she'd managed to compose one perfect sentence. To consider her just a food writer is to do her an injustice; she is a writer, first and foremost, who happens, sometimes, to write about food.
   Long Ago in France is a memoir of her years in Dijon in the 30s, a book full of rich wine, rich ideas, character portraits filled with rich detail. It's about Life, a life filled with joy, experience, food, travel, and memorable people. This book is a paean to a lost era.
   Highest recommendation.



5. Between 1929 and 1932, young M.F.K. Fisher (later a famed chef and memoirist) and her husband Al Fisher lived and studied in Dijon, France. Here she discovered the people and the food of Burgundy, and she describes both with warmth, sensuality, and humor (without becoming overly sentimental: "It was there, I now understand, that I started to grow up, to study, to make love, to eat and drink, to be me and not what I was expected to be."

   Her writing is crisp and evocative. "He took the apple slices from the bowl one by one, almost faster than we could see, and shook off the wine and laid them in a great, beautiful whorl, from the outside to the center, as perfect as a snail shell. We said not a word. The music trembled in the room." Fisher helps the reader discover the beauty of our appetites. She writes of an old soldier who offers her chocolate: "The chocolate broke at first like gravel into many separate, disagreeable bits...Then they grew soft, and melted voluptuously." Then a doctor offers her bread, admonishing, "Never eat chocolate without bread, young lady!" There is a delicious denouement: "...in two minutes my mouth was full of fresh bread, and melting chocolate, and as we sat gingerly, the three of us, on the frozen hill...we peered shyly and silently at each other and chewed at one of the most satisfying things I have ever eaten..."

   This was a time of great importance for Fisher, and she generously shares her experiences in a richly satisfying book. It's a small treasure.

5 comments about Covering: The Hidden Assault on Our Civil Rights.

1. There have been several struggles in civil rights in the USA. Women suffrage, African American civil rights, and finally the Gay, Lesbian, Transgender, and Bisexual cause.
   
   Yoshino, a law professor at Yale and a gay, Asian-American man, masterfully melds autobiography and legal scholarship in this book, marking a move from more traditional pleas for civil equality to a case for individual autonomy in identity politics. Seldom has a work of such careful intellectual rigor and fairness been so deeply touching.
   
   In questioning the phenomenon of "covering," a term used for the coerced hiding of crucial aspects of one's self--in his case his homosexuality--Yoshino thrusts the reader into a battlefield of shifting gray areas. Yet, at every step, he anticipates the reader's questions and rebuttals, answering them not only with acute reasoning, but also with disarming humility.
   
   What emerges is an eloquent, poetic protest against the hidden prejudices embedded in American civil rights legislation--legislation that tacitly apologizes for "immutable" human difference from the white, male, straight norm, rather than defending one's "right to say what one is." Though Yoshino recognizes the law's potential to further (and hinder) liberty's cause, he admits that his "education in law has been an education in its limitations." Hence, by way of his unsparing accounts of self-realization, he reveals that the struggle against oppression lies not solely in fighting an imagined, monolithic state but as much in intimate discourse with the mother, the father, and the colleague who constitute that state. It deals with the ability to "blend" with the society who is yet to give the GLBT community the rights and respect it deserves.
   
   As healing as it is polemical, this book has tremendous potential as a touchstone in the struggle for universal human dignity.



2. No offense to Yoshino, but in truth, he doesn't make many actual points. This is a great book if you want to hear about his personal journey, but it's not very enlightening overall.



3. A mix of professional experience, glimpses of personal experience, poetic imagination and some interesting ideas for America's future. I am glad I've read it. The only regret is that the book doesn't lead to a powerful, clear vision for the country. The very interesting ideas from the introduction are just briefly repeated at the end. Maybe someone else will build upon this material? The book certainly encourages a discussion. Maybe that was the whole point?



4. The Publisher's Weekly review says it all, but I cannot let the opportunity pass to add my voice to those honoring this book. Yes, it's a simple concept, elaborated over 200 pages, but there is nothing monotonous about it. The academic monotony characteristic of similar monographs is thwarted through the simplest of means: the scholar-author is also a poet. He writes on the minutiae of civil rights law with the compression and unexpected image that make strong poetry memorable. I heard the author speak on the concept of Covering on the Maine Public Radio broadcast of the Chataqua Program. The discussion was interesting enough, but when he read the Epilogue, I immediately thought, "I have to have that in my Commonplace Book." As a politically active gay man and 15-year conductor of a gay men's chorus, I've often meditated on the meaning of cultural appropriation, assimilation, and accommodation and the resulting effect on actualization and abnegation of the individual. So, Kenji Yoshino's orderly discussion of coversion, passing, and covering is immediately attractive to me. But it is not my habit to read 'brainiac' books. I'm put off by the customary tone, talking down to me, especially when the subject of the discussion is, by inference, me and the people I know and love. This one is the exception. I feel like Yoshino and I have just spent a long evening, with a wide variety of friends, talking about something of immediate concern to all of us. And then there's that Epilogue. Talk is one thing, but how we live it out is usually quite another. And it's never simple. That's why it's best left to the hands of a poet, and this poet has done it well.



5. I recently heard Professor Yoshino speak here in Seattle on a day in celebration of Human Rights Day, and I can attest to his being a gifted speaker and possessing an extraordinary intellect.
   
   However, with respect to the notion of "covering," a term I believe that he has coined in this book to illuminate a polemical topic that he wishes to place squarely into the fore of the larger map/discourse of civil rights in the U.S., I am perplexed that his notion of the "mainstream" apparently does not take into account more dimensions, e.g., the cultural anthropological/sociological.
   
   From my own experience as a gay man AND as an Asian-American, I have found, largely to my dismay, that in either social group, there is, in fact, a "mainstream" that does, in fact, exert pressure to conform to its "majority" norms, behaviors...
   
   And I would suppose that in any "society," whether it be in a nation-state such as Japan, or a social group such as African-Americans, that there do exist "mainstream" cultures that individuals within those groups do have to "contend with."
   
   "Covering" as Yoshino has placed it has, by dint of his conceptual definition of it has overwhelmingly negative connotations, one which allows a "mainstream" body within a social group to exert pressures on individual members who do not conform, whether out of choice or due to individual disposition.
   
   But sometimes what could be considered "covering" (by some people) is also a means of what one could consider "healthy assimilation" or a reasonable concession to the majority--without being in any way a "sell-out."
   
   When and where such "concessions" become a sell-out, of course, is an open question. But even where "adaptation" in some behaviors to the "norm" of the mainstream does occur, it may simply entail "building bridges" and acknowledging the opinion of the majority rather than remaining in isolation from them.
   
   (If, for example, I am a nudist, I can still choose to walk outside of my house WITH clothing on, if only in simple deference to the fact that the law and the majority of my fellow citizens deem it an offense or offensive or both).
   
   This is not to deny the legitimacy of the claims of gay people to equal rights (to marriage, protection from discrimination in the job market, etc.) but to point out that "covering" might be understood in a more nuanced context. Covering, in all its different aspects, is not tantamount in all situations to being an "assault on civil rights."
   
   Covering may simply describe the "interface" where the majority and a smaller grouping, at least in a particular situation, and where the minority accedes to the norms of the former--despite the negative overtones that the author is ascribing to it. In other cases, the reverse (majority accedes to the behaviors of the minority despite a clear divergence of opinion) could and, in fact, DOES happen in America.
   
   In some instances, too, dysfunctional or inappropriate (vis-a-vis the majority) behavior by a minority is tolerated, condoned, or even lauded.
   
   Discussions of loaded discussions of "diversity" or "covering" need to be evaluated within a context rather than be seen in a predetermined, black-or-white intellectual "matrix."
   
   In other words, the major concern that I have with this book is that it too "obviously" has an agenda stamped on it.
   
   The personal details disclosed nicely balance the analytical (legal) side of the discussion.
   
   But in terms of overall appeal to both mind AND heart, a little less Paul Haggis (director/screenwriter of "Crash"). Taking a strong position on an issue, with corroborative evidence, is fine. Re-iterating that position--as a constant thread--throughout a long discussion may seem to some people evidence of "not dodging an issue." But considering all the different dimensions of that issue would provide, I believe, a more balanced, more cogent argument in favor of one's position.

3 comments about Japanese Comickers 2.

1. I was maybe expecting more in-depth or explicit explanation of the process the artists used. It's not really as bad as I might be portraying it but I was hoping for more.
   
   Certainly a good selection of artists and methods. It's still neat to see the process from start to finish.



2. Having seen the first Comikers book released for the US, I have to say this book has a much better layout. You're not going to get extremely specific tips in these books but you will see their method of madness in some steps. I also found the selection of chosen artists in this second volume much better than the first one. Shigeki Maeshima has become one of my favorite artists since I've seen his work on Dragonfly in the Robot Comic Anthology.
   
   It's a great coffee table book in some aspects since the variety of artwork isn't typical anime illustrations and many of these artists actually idolize American Artists and incorporate it into their style.
   
   A nice little tip to other illustrators or artists that want to do this for a living, please take special note of what tools these artists use in this book. They're not worried about the most up to date version of Painter, Photoshop or other trade name program. Many of them are versions behind and it just goes to show that it's more about the artist and not their tools.



3. First a run-down of the artist's who are featured in this book-
   
   Shigeki Maeshima, Tatsuyuki Tanaka, Waka Miyama, Lily Hoshino, Jeong Juno, Hyung-Tae Kim, Kuroboshi Kouhaku, Haccan, Kaouru Yukifuna, Shukei, Chen Shu-Fen & Pin-Fan, and Noa.
   
   Ok that's it. Buy the book. The features and printing are EXCELLENT and to purchase a book of this quality directly from Japan (not including shipping) would cost at least $55.00.
   
   The price point on this can't be beat.
   
   Pick up Volume one also, if you don't already have it.

5 comments about Flyboys: A True Story of Courage.

1. This book should be used to teach an American reader the Japanese perspective before and during WWII. Bradley delves deep into historical Japanese views of America (many critics often confuse these views with the views of the author). Bradley cites specific American events the Japanese used and taught to justify their American hate, their militiary dedication, and their own manifest destiny. If you like to read history rarely taught in your everyday classroom, don't miss this one.



2. A book that goes into great detail about the Japanese-Korean_Chinese relationship before and during the war as well as the American_Japanese Relationship is the book 'Flyboys: A True Story of Courage ' . Yes the description says its about American Pilots, and yes it is. BUT the first 1/3 to half of the book intimately describes the Japanese-Korean_Chinese relationship and how the Japanese went from *stone age to massive war machine in only a few decades, It also explains the Japanese mentality back then and how they became like that and WHY. This is not just a book about some American Pilots. It is a (sometimes gruesome)detailed look into the origins of the pacific war and more important the Why's ...
   Edit your post:
   A book that goes into great detail about the Japanese-Korean_Chinese relationship before and during the war as well as the American_Japanese Relationship is the book 'Flyboys: A True Story of Courage ' . Yes the description says its about American Pilots, and yes it is. BUT the first 1/3 to half of the book intimately describes the Japanese-Korean_Chinese relationship and how the Japanese went from *stone age to massive war machine in only a few decades, It also explains the Japanese mentality back then and how they became like that and WHY. This is not just a book about some American Pilots. It is a (sometimes gruesome)detailed look into the origins of the pacific war and more important the Why's ...
   [Cancel] [Delete post]
   Guidelines



3. The author begins the book trashing America for its Indian policies in the 19th Century, but ignores how Indians brutalized each other when their Asian ancestors migrated to the Americas, and later. The issue is tangential to Japanese atrocities to American prisoners of war. Its an excuse to kick America.
   
   Leave this bilge at the college where you teach.



4. This book really surprised me. It was the first one I read by this author (and I will now certainly read Flags of Our Fathers), and I thought it would be a super-patriotic book about how brave the American airmen were and how awful the Japanese were to them. What really surprised me is that Bradley gives such a balanced view of the two sides in the war, and, while not favoring the Japanese in any way, helped me as a reader to understand the war from their perspective. It also pointed out how horrific and dehumanizing war is to soldiers on both sides who are fighting each other, and how they come to cease to view the enemy as human beings. I certainly came away from the book heartbroken over what happened to the American flyboys and how much their families suffered their loss. I also came away from the book convinced that one should be very wary when a government demonizes people on the other side of a conflict, and how important it is never to forget that all people are human beings with the same needs for love, family, security.



5. This book had promise of telling a story that needed to be told of Japanese atrocities during WW2. However, the author was not focused in his efforts electing instead to tell the story of airpower in the military and trying to justif the actions of the Japanese by telling of what the Japanese held as US atrocities. In fact he himself indicates thet he might have crossed the line when he stopped just short of calling one naval aviator he interviewed a babykiller as a result of a mission he had flown. Interspersed within these pages was an effort to tell in very graphic detail the story of the death of several US Naval Aviators. Overall a poor experience and would cause me to stop and think before I read another one of his books

5 comments about Desert Exile: The Uprooting of a Japanese-American Family.

1. I was very interested in finding a book that wasn't just dry history. I wasn't born in this time period of World War II, so I was really eager to find a book relating to this topic. Possibly learning about someone who lived through this time period, something a little like Ann Frank's Diary.
   
   My initial thoughts were, this book would be interesting learning about history without any government interference with the conditions of the camps. In fifth grade I made friends with my best friend who had just moved from Japan and her family was getting aquainted with the United States. I interviewed her mom on how she was liking America and the one resp9onse that really stuck out was, I have so much Freedom.
   
   In the Book I realized that many Japanese Families experienced Racism from many nationalities. Children were taken out of school and from colleges. For a few years the students that were attending Universities were no longer able to graduate with their friends.
   
   Having a friend from Japan gave me an extra push to read the book. To my surprise, I couldn't believe that families were living in horse stalls and that people did not have proper barials if they did die while in the camp.
   
   The beginning of the book started off with how this Japanses-American Family pushed their way through life in America and tells us about their family success. At the end of the book I found that some of these Japanese American Families were actually more patriotic than many American families.



2. I had to read a memoir for my 8th grade English class. This book was about Yoshiko Uchida's Japanese American family, who were put in camps during World War II. I chose this book because I was very interested in the war, which put over 8,000 Japanese American people into old race tracks and deserts. Yoshiko was placed in two different camps, one in Northern California and the other Utah, both the same: over stuffed with people and nowhere to cry.
   
   Even though she suffered a lot while in the camps, Yoshiko learned that all the things in life, are worth living. She was a student, about to graduate from UC Berkeley, when they were taken off and disconnected from the "American's". They were stuck in the camps for a whole year, with no where to cry without someone seeing you.
   
   This book gave too much background before the war, but when the war hit, the book got much more interesting and exciting.
   
   Lori Sue
   Northern California



3. "Desert Exile" is a wonderful book that is easy to read, yet totally enjoyable. A perfect book for a family to share together and talk about.



4. I had to read this book for my History 2710 class. I was very reluctant to do so at first. Uchida's book is a sad story about the Japanese Internment issue during the 1940's. Uchida talks about her own family and those she knew while at each stage of internment. She talks about how her dad lost his business, how she was pulled from college, and the general poor treatment of her fellow Japanese Americans. The book is full of facts, the author's own opinion, and her family's struggles at the time. This book is good, and is honestly one of the few novels that I have enjoyed while in college. Uchida does a good job of painting a picture of what the Japanese Interment issue was like for one family.



5. Desert Exile: The Uprooting of a Japanese-American Family"by Yoshiko Uchida deals with a Japanese-American family who were sent to concentration camp during World War II as Japanese-Americans at that time were considered to be potential "spies" for the Japanese government. Uchida started off with introduction to her family, of how her parents met, and how California became their home. Even though she was raised with Japanese values and ideals, she was at the same time an American who can barely speaks Japanese. Her world was turned upside down when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941.

   Japanese-Americans were sent to concentration camp for fear that they could endanger the national security. This violates their Constitutional rights but there were no public support for their fellow citizens. It was indeed racist of the government as German-Americans were not sent to any concentration camps even though the United States was fighting Germany. The Japanese-Americans had to swallow their pride and dignity and were moved to barracks that were bare and ill-equipped. They were placed behind the fence, guarded by MPs and basically were treated as prisoners. Uchida's vivid descriptions of their living conditions were both horrifying and shocking.

   "Desert Exile" was used by my professor for a History of American West class. This is truly an eye-opener as most Americans are unaware of their fellow citizens' ordeal and treatment. The Japanese-American loss was immeasurable. Not only did they lose financially (from selling their homes hastily), they lost touch with friends and relatives, lost their pride and lost confidence in their government. I highly recommend this book for anyone who wants to learn more about the ordeal of the Japanese-Americans during World War II. It is extremely well-written, eloquent and easy to understand.

5 comments about Dear Miss Breed.

1. I absolutely loved this book. It is a child's view of the Japanese internment camps.



2. Can we stand firm for JUSTICE in wartime? HOW CAN WE NOT??
   
   Clara Breed had a passion for children. She could not be silent when witnessing unjust actions taken by our government following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor (December 7, 1941). In the Foreword for this 2006 book, Elizabeth Kikuchi Yamada wrote "I am appalled I did not realize that I was a prisoner of my own government." (Read her moving poem on page 265).
   
   The first children's librarian in San Diego, Miss Breed had become well-acquainted and friends with many children of first generation immigrants from Japan. As a child I learned from a sermon the Japanese numbers *ichi* - *ni* - *san* - *shi* - *go* ~~ On page 17 the author explains that "sei" is translated "generation" and is the key to the words *issei* - *nisei* - *sansei* - *yonsei*. ALL persons of Japanese ancestry in America are called "Nikkei" - - *kei* meaning thread or lineage.
   
   When families were forced to leave for internment camps (the U.S. govt. says "internment" is not the correct title), the librarian's compassion was not 'switched off'. The children must have hung on desperately to their parents' stoic optimism to get them through the shock of being so ill-treated by the nation in which they were born, and other cruel ironies. Joanne Oppenheim's research and story-telling turned up pictures and letters of those young people & gathered them into a book well worth its "heft"!
   
   It is easy to believe that Joanne Oppenheim was *destined* to tell this story. While 'tracking down' members of her own graduating class in upstate New York, she used her detecting skills to locate Ellen Yukawa who had been a classmate in 1945-1946 after release from internment. This is a poignant story in itself. Involvement in the extensive research in finding Miss Breed's other young friends seemed inevitable for Oppenheim.
   
   It is disheartening to read that persons who later gained significant prominence (i.e., Chief Justice Earl Warren & cartoonist-author "Dr. Seuss") allowed their prejudices to surface publicly. (See the cartoon on page 40). Racism dictated laws which fed the greed of many who bought up confiscated land. Politicians who foisted their prejudices on the public deliberately fed the wildfires of Fear. This happened despite the efforts of *First Lady* Eleanor Roosevelt, and many respected clergy & Quakers.
   
   Reviewer mcHAIKU deeply respects Clara Breed for being a positive influence in the lives of children who suffered greatly from the traumas of that war. Readers must ensure that Joanne Oppenheim's work stays visible in libraries and classrooms to remind teachers & students that all of us must be careful to respect the victims of any conflict.
   
   *Believing that JUSTICE must be our standard, we shall act with compassion.*



3. I was assigned the topic of Japanese Americans and the internment camps for my final paper. First of all, I think this book accounts for my great grade. The book is full of information and photographs. Ms. Oppenheim also makes the story of what happened so clear. I am ashamed that my country did such a thing to their own citizens. It's scary really. It's also weird that not that many people my age even know about it. This should be taught more.



4. In many ways, "Dear Miss Breed" may be the best way to share the JA WW II experience with middle and high school students as the letters leave a personal touch to the story; yet there are plenty of accurate historical references about WW II events that affected the JA community. Even if you have read every book about life in Camps for JAs, Miss Breed's story just may move up the list and become your favorite book on this topic...everyone should read "Dear Miss Breed."



5. _Dear Miss Breed: True Stories of the Japanese American Incarceration During World War II and a Librarian Who Made a Difference_ by Joanne Oppenheim is the remarkable story of one woman who "fought injustice through the power of words and small, but constant, acts of kindness."
   
   In 1942 Clara Breed was the first children's librarian at the San Diego Public Library. She loved children, and she loved books. Most of all, she loved connecting the two.
   
   On April 1, 1942, Americans of Japanese ancestry, considered a threat to the security of the United States, were given one week to prepare for evacuation to an unknown site. They could take with them only what they could carry. They had to store, sell, or abandon the rest of their possessions.
   
   As Miss Breed said good-bye to her young patrons at the railroad station, she gave them stamped postcards addressed to herself so that they could write her when they reached their new home. Thus began correspondences that would see families through their short-term "home" (horse stalls at the Santa Anita racetrack) and their home for several years (the relocation camp in Poston, Arizona). Over the years Miss Breed sent the children books, Christmas and birthday gifts, treats, and requested items. Even more important, she showed the children and their families that she cared for them. She wrote articles about their treatment for _Library Journal_ and _Horn Book Magazine_, awakening teachers and other librarians to their plight.
   
   _Dear Miss Breed_ contains excerpts from the 200+ letters that Miss Breed received from the children between 1942 and 1945. Sadly, only one of the letters she had written could be found. However, the content of her letters can often be inferred from the children's letters.
   
   Oppenheim introduces the children with photographs and brief biographies. Then she begins an account that is basically chronological. Through primary sources such as drawings, cartoons, official notices, articles, and letters to the editor, she reveals the attitudes of that time. Through their letters the children present first-hand accounts of their experiences in the detention camps. The families inspire us with the optimism they demonstrate in the face of oppression. Excerpts from Oppenheim's interviews with the correspondents decades later and excerpts from testimony during CWRIC (Commission on Wartime Relocation and Internment of Civilians) hearings held in cities across the United States in 1981 provide the perspective that is possible only after time has elapsed.
   
   _Dear Miss Breed_ is masterfully told. The story is especially important as we find ourselves in the midst of another war when questions of detention and freedom are again an issue.
   
   Recommended for sixth grade and older, including adults.

5 comments about Some Survived: An Eyewitness Account of the Bataan Death March and the Men Who Lived Through It.

1. This book is a must-read. These guys literally went through hell. You must get this book, it is outsading. If you feel terrible about how your life is, read this book. You'll realize how good you have it.
   
   Well written book. Hard to put down.



2. I am reviewing the 1984 hardback edition of this book which was entitled "Some Survived. An Epic Account of Japanese Captivity During WWII."
   Although this is not the first book on The Death March I have read, it is probably the best. It is well written and easy to read. The thing I liked best was the fact that not only did it give, in great detail, an eye witness account of the atrocities committed by the Japanese on American POW's in the Phillipines, it went on to describe life in the camps after the march, then on to a very detailed description of their treatment on the 'Hell Ships' that took the prisoners to prison camps in Japan.
   This is not a book of despair only. It is also of faith, guts, determination, and final victory by Manny Lawton and a few others that survived this horrible period of time. It also prompts us to remember those that didn't. God Bless them.



3. This is one of those books that just makes you churn inside. The abuses and suffering are never ending during the length of the book. The detail provided could only have come from someone that was there. Mr. Lawton explains in vivid detail the degree of torment these guys endured. YOU NEED TO READ THIS!



4. On April 8, 1942, Manny Lawton was a 23 year old army captain stationed on Bataan when orders came down to surrender to the Japanese who had invaded and captured the Philippine Islands in the opening months of World War II in the Pacific Theatre. Lawton and his fellow U.S. troops and their Filipino allies were compelled to endure a six-day, sixty-mile trek forever after known as the Bataan Death March, during which approximately eleven thousand men died of exhaustion or were murdered by the Japanese by bayoneting, clubbing, or simply shooting their prisoners outright. By the time the war ended in August 1945, about 57 percent of the American troops who surrendered to the Japanese on Bataan had died in confinement at the hands of the enemy. Some Survived: An Eyewitness Account Of The Bataan Death March And The Men Who Lived Through It is an important historical documentation and seminal contribution to World War II Pacific Theatre reference collections.



5. This is an amazing report of an American soldier held captive by the Japaese in the Phippines and the island of Japan itself for three and one-half years after his capture in World War II.
   How he could remember the details of brutal beatings, starvation and resulting illnesses is almost beyond belief. His experiences with fellow prisoners runs the gamut from the highest heroism to utter selfishness. Every day he looked forward to freedom, only to be repeatedly disappointed until that memorable day when he met the invading U.S. forces and he knew that he was free ,atlast! The dscription of his home coming is heart wrenching as it was for all of us on our return. This book's contents are enough to make almost anyone swear to never buy another Japanese produced article.

   met h

5 comments about Bento Box in the Heartland: My Japanese Girlhood in Whitebread America.

1. This was an incredible journey for me as I lived two blocks from the Furiyas until 1977 when my family moved from Versailles, Indiana. I remember the family fondly and this book put the rest of the story to many of my childhood memories.
   
   I remember the summer Linda went to Japan and had always wondered what the trip was like. Now I know!
   
   I bought the book this morning and finished it this evening. It's a great read and I'm now looking forward to trying some of the recipes.



2. I grew up half-Japanese in a whitebread small town in Illinois during the same period author Linda Furiya lived in her small Indiana town, and I can relate to much of her story. Was that the old Star Market in Chicago that her family made special trips to just like my family did? The author paints quite a revealing portrait of her life, wanting desperately to be like the other kids and confused about where she belongs and how to merge her two cultures. The racism she encounters and must deal with on her own will pull the heartstrings of readers. Her dream trip to Japan as a ten-year-old where she discovers her roots and her family is a deeply felt learning experience and creates a bond with her somewhat distant mother. Perhaps it is a typical immigrant story where children raised in America have a difficult time understanding the ways of parents of a foreign culture. Furiya offers a no-holds-barred commentary on this difficulty as well as the frustrations and confusion she felt as an alien in the country she was born and raised in.
   
   Despite the disjointedness that often occurs in the flow between chapters, the subject of food and its meaning in her life provides a connectivity that culminates in a beautiful final chapter where Furija is able to look back on her childhood and come to a sense of understanding and peace. I quite enjoyed this book and plan on trying out some of the recipes.



3. I was so anxious to read this book- I loved the title and expected some kind of knowledge or insight to come from having read it. Unfortunately I found it to be a very humdrum account of childhood angst in the midwest. I was surprised to learn that the author was a professional journalist; the grammar and punctuation were just awful in places and the flow was practically nonexistent, with the author going back and forth in time as if to teach the reader a lesson about something, but no lesson ever came, except possibly that people of Japanese heritage are annoyingly nonconfrontational and midwestern American men are dirty old predatory geezers. I can live without that type of pigeonholing, thank you.



4. As a Japanese-American raised first in California and then in Texas, I can relate to many of the experiences that author Linda Furiya, a food columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle, shares in her childhood memoir of growing up as a Nisei in a small Indiana community, in particular, the complex interdependency evident in her relationship with her Japanese-born mother. In fact, Furiya spends little time writing about her father or her brothers because of the especially symbiotic connection with her mother. Her particular back story as an atypically liberated woman in a male-dominated society lends an intriguing twist on the stereotype one usually associates with the traditional Japanese woman.
   
   Similar to Laura Esquivel's Like Water for Chocolate, the book is a series of vignettes organized around selective memories of preparing and eating food reflective of the author's heritage. Whereas Esquivel opened each of her chapters with a recipe, Furiya chooses to close each chapter with one for family favorites such as Chinese Home-Style Tofu and Japanese Pot Stickers. Although the recipes make nice transitional points within her episodic structure, they actually aren't that necessary since she otherwise captures the pervasive dichotomy of having a racial identity utterly different from her surroundings in ways that are both poignant and painful. Some of the episodes felt so familiar to me that it made me wonder just how well Asian-Americans in general have assimilated into the mainstream.
   
   The book's title refers to the Japanese box lunches that her mother would meticulously prepare for her to take to elementary school where her classmates had their regulation sandwiches. Rather than face embarrassing stares and questions, she would hide in the bathroom eating her mother's homemade onigiri. That palpable sense of isolation informs many of the anecdotes Furiya shares here, as they highlight the subtle forms of racism and sexism she experienced firsthand while attempting to make sense of her place between two distinct cultures. Moreover, she makes precisely calibrated observations on the generational conflict that seemed inevitable in serving to alienate her from her heritage only to embrace it later through her love of Japanese food. Despite some heavy-handed passages, the book is a relatively light read that taps into darker themes in a most affecting manner.



5. Furiya has a voice that is warm, approachable, and intimate. Reading her work, you feel in the company of a friend who also happens to be a masterful storyteller. She weaves a tale that's both exotic and profoundly American, one that combines family and food in a way that's lyrical but never sentimental. Wherever you grew up, and whatever you mother put in your lunchbox, this is a treat to savor.

5 comments about Flyboys: A True Story of Courage.

1. My dad loves true military stories, and I got this for him for Christmas. The previous Christmas I had gotten him "Flags of our fathers." He loved it. My dad is a good reader, but he never reads for hours on end putting other stuff aside just to do so. But, this book had him reading for the better part of his Christmas break. He also said it was somewhat sad, but not overly.



2. I had seen the book but never made the connection to the author of The Flags of our Fathers. I decided to pick it up and give it a read after chatting with an older gentleman about the war. He said it was good.
   
   I had never hear of Chichi Jima. A bypassed island which was overshadowed by the Battle of Iwo Jima. Chichi Jima was a communications center for the Japaneses. American pilots "flyboys" were assigned to try and take out the radio stations so they could not inform Japan that bombers were on the way. Bradley tells the story of what happened to the flyboys that were shot down. Their names were Dick Woellhof, Floyd Hall, Marve Mershon, Jimmy Dye, Grady York, Warren Earl Vaughn, the future President George HW Bush, Glenn Frazier, Bill Connell and an unnamed B-24 crewman. Only George Bush and Bill Connell would survive.
   
   
   What I found interesting is the way Bradley tries to explain the two cultures and the history leading up to the war. The history mentioned ranges from the Samurai, the restoration of the Mejii, Perry and the rise of the Militaristic powers. Bradley made an attempt to explain the pseudo-Samurai culture that arose and the actions of the so called "Spirit Warriors" committed. Actions which the real Samurai would have never done.
   
   Bradley makes no attempt to "white wash" the history and the wars that were fought. Bradeley tells of barbarous acts committed by Japan, the US, and even China throughout the years. Actions which at the time people thought they were the right thing to do and with future generations can question.
   
   The clash of the two cultures does come into play. To the Japanese soldier the act of surrender was a shameful horrendous act. It basically made you the lowest of the low. Treatment of such men was horrible especially with the brutal thugs that ran the army.
   
   War is about dehumanizing the enemy. It makes it easier to kill them. The US even practiced it with songs such as "I am going to slap that dirty little Jap" and the use of a parade float which showed scurrying yellow rats being bombed.
   
   Hollywood likes to paint a noble John Wayneish view of the war and yet our boys could be a brutal as the enemy. As mentioned by flyboys who strafed Japanese soldiers and sailors. Bradley doesn't try to paint an evil image of the US soldier. Simply that war can make decent people do bad things in war.
   
   I knew prisoners were executed as I have seen the famous photo of the Australian soldier about to be beheaded. What I did not know was the acts cannibalism that went on.
   
   Such acts happened to the flyboys that crashed and were captured on Chichi Jima. Such acts suggested the War Department thought it was not a good idea to tell the families of the flyboys as they were told they were MIA. It's kind of sad hearing the mothers went to their graves not knowing what happened to their sons. Yet, would you want to tell a mother that her son was beheaded and partially eaten?
   
   This story only made it to light because of Bill Doran felt the flyboys stories needed to be told and he contacted the author and told him about them. Bill Doran was present at the war crimes trials for the leaders and soldiers involved with the killings on Chichi Jima.
   
   Bradley talked to endless people and even Japanese soldiers who were on the island an interacted with the flyboys. The cannibalistic commands were executed in 1947. The stories told about the flyboys facing their deaths is indeed courageous and noble. Depending on your viewpoints you can take it as true or simply soldiers making them honorable rather then what happened.
   
   Bradley also visited the islands of Iwo Jima and Chichi Jima with President Bush. He asked the author if he knew anything about what happened to the two men he lost when he was shot down that day. President Bush stayed with his plane longer then he should have and even tried to turn it so they could get out safer. They didn't make it even though it was thought two parachutes were seen.
   
   President Bush said to this day he still thinks of them.
   
   Overall this is a great book to read and I highly recommend it.



3. "Fly Boys" an incredible botch. The book promises to tell of American fliers shot down over Japanese-held Chichi Jima. Not far from Iwo Jima, scores of Japanese on Chichi could only watch impotent as a huge American force utterly devastated their nearby comrades, opening the door for fiery assaults against the Japanese home islands. The Japanese proved far better at amassing forces than maintaining them, effectively stranding troops across the Pacific. (Imperial doctrine called for troops to "provision" themselves - by stealing from local inhabitants or by subsisting on insects and flora.) As a result, islands like Chichi and Guadalcanal became home to thousands of starving Japanese troops barely able to bring the fight to the enemy. Desperation exacerbates the sort of hysteria already endemic to every level of the Japanese military when the war began, and the "Fly Boys" suffer their captors' wrath.
   
   Some reviews complain about Bradely's use of "moral equivalence" (Bradley compares Imperial brutalities with those of an expansionist America from the post-Civil War era through the war in the Philippines) to anti-American effect. But those problems mask the book's larger flaw: that it really isn't about anything at all. What starts out a story of American prisoners, goes back to the dawn of Japanese-American relations, the birth of modern Japan and the road to war. Then there is the rise of American airpower, the battles of Coral Sea and Midway, and finally the landings at Iwo Jima and the firebombing of Japan. These historic events don't simply form a backdrop to the story, but become the story, grabbing as much of Bradley's focus as the plight of his downed airmen. Bradley never integrates these threads into a common historic theme, and never explains what they're all doing in the same book. In a book about nothing in particular, everything is irrelevant.
   
   For his research, or maybe because of it, Bradley loses his way almost immediately. Instead of learning about the downed Chichi fliers, Bradley begins with the historical roots of the Pacific war...and then works backward. We see how Commodore Perry "opened" the closed yet sophisticated and highly regimented Japanese society to the outside world. Japan's honor system - epitomized by Bushido - was blameless for the barbarities of WWII. Instead, the modern combat experience of the Japanese demonstrates both compliance with that code and extraordinarily humane (Russians captured in the 1907 war received treatment little worse than that for guests). Bradley contrasts this with the aforementioned brutality of Americans in war.
   
   Getting to WWII, Bradley barely touches on his subjects - instead rehashing more milestones already familiar to anybody with the least basic grasp of military history (or with basic cable). From the court martial of Billy Mitchell to Doolittle's raid on Tokyo; from the Battle of Midway to the fire-bombing of the home islands of the Empire - Bradley gives some marginal insight, but again little bearing on the downed American fliers who become extras in their own story. Bradley not only forgets whom he's writing about, but never clarifies whose perspective. (Bradley compares the cruelties perpetrated by Americans in giving some shape to those committed by the Imperial Japanese, but did the Japanese know of "Wounded Knee" during the Bataan March? Is Bradley is arguing for moral relativism, or merely demonstrating that the Japanese had done so?)
   
   When it's clear that Bradley is writing from his own perspective, the result is a soft concoction of history and euphemism, with little hard fact. This is especially true of the title - nothing in Bradley's book gets to the meat of what it means to be one of the "Fly Boys", though he uses the term throughout. In that vein, "fly boys" may be an image, like the one used in "The Right Stuff" in which pilots were the lone shining knights of the nuclear powered space age. But Wolfe fleshed out his metaphors without being conquered by them (by the end of "Stuff", Wolfe's America has matured beyond its need for such archaic heroes like the Mercury 7 - the era of the lone, shining and supersonic knight had come to an end). Bradley instead uses "Flyboys" to refer to fliers in general - ignoring much distinction between the fliers of different services. Instead, Bradley has "flyboys" as FDR's one-word answer in the desperate early days of the war (was FDR such a fan of naval aviation?), without saying much about how FDR turned that answer into the force that won the war. Other glossed over points - the relative industrial might of America and Japan, and the exhaustion faced by Japan in China even before hostilities began with America. Bradley "shows" much, yet teaches little.
   
   As to the problem of moral-equivalence touched upon by unfavorable reviewers, "Flyboys" engages in a sort of thematic shell-game. In turns, he eschews then embraces the sentimentality of American pluck over Imperial aggression. In a work that reveals the contrasting imagery that each side used for the other (uniformly hostile, of course), Bradley freely engages in imagery and sentimentality of his own - of spirit warriors and Samurai, of those betrayed the warrior's honor code, and those who've inherited it. Bradley charts Japan's ironic metamorphosis from honorable warrior to barbaric marauder, fleshing out the contrasting extremes for each. Yet having plumbed American atrocities, reverses direction for Americans without explanation, and makes them the heirs of the Bushido - a characterization (much like "Fly Boy") qualified or even defined. "Flyboys" is supposed to be an unflinching look at WWII as we haven't seen before, yet its subtitle, offering a story of "courage" suggests he's as much reliant on heroic and unreal imagery as those who written before him.



4. What could have been an excellent piece of historical research is fatally flawed by an unflinching and blatant diatribe against American culture and action going back to the first settlers in the East.
   
   Under the pretext of explaining why the Japanese resented American "meddling" in the Pacific, Bradley clumsily brings up a litany of (in his mind) evil American policies and acts that gradually become the dominant theme of at least his first few chapters. His graphic depiction of the Rape of Nanking is followed by a diatribe against the Americans' treatment of their aboriginals ( Indians, Native Americans, or whatever term floats your boat this week), and Bradley's intent of establishing moral equivalence is quite clear. As this pattern goes on, and on, and on, one begins to harbor a secret suspicion that this anti-American propaganda -- for there is no other appropriate word for his slick and dishonest portrayal -- was indeed the real raison d'etre behind this book.
   
   No historian worthy of the name would seriously argue that Japan's megalomaniacal conquer-and-slaughter policies were merely a natural response to America's westward expansion, but that is exactly what Bradley tries to do. He is certainly entitled to his opinion, no matter how bizarre, but he is not entitled to play fast and loose with historical fact, and claiming that the US conquered the Philippines and Hawaii at bayonet point in the same way as the Japanese conquered Nanking is not just a stretch -- it's a lie.
   
   Bradley's carefully-calculated weaving of every available piece of anti-American propaganda into the fabric of this book is especially distressing because his research and portrayal of the actual facts surrounding the Chichi Jima incident is otherwise excellent. His analysis of Japanese history and cultural change is succinct and, occasionally, perceptive. Clearly, there are either huge gaps in his knowledge of these areas or, more likely, he has picked and chosen the parts he likes and ignored others. He could have done us all a service by mentioning the Japanese plans for conqest and empire, including specifically everything up to and including Hawaii -- plans that went back almost to the turn of the century and were certainly no secret among the Japanese military or any Japanese citizen that read books and newspapers. He may not be comfortable with direct research into Japanese-language material, but there is at least one recent book in English on the subject of Japan's plans for Hawaii (Hawaii Under the Rising Sun, by John J. Stephan). Japan's militaristic culture and birth rate drove her imperial dreams since the population of tiny Japan, believe it or not, was almost two-thirds that of the whole United States.
   
   For those with a firm grounding in history that can stomach Bradley's distortions, this book can be useful and definitely add to one's knowledge. Personally, I got a lot out of this book, but I deeply resent the deliberate distortions and untruths, and this is one book I would only recommend to other readers with a giant, bold warning label: "Inside these covers lies much good data, but with a large helping of politically correct B.S."
   
   Unfortunately, I suspect this book will get wide readership among students and academics since the leftist history professors will simply love the message in this screed.



5. I picked this book up on a whim and was unable to put it down. James Bradley's book is graphic at times, but enlightening. I found myself extremely curious as to what happened to members of my own family who fought in the Pacific.

5 comments about As I Crossed a Bridge of Dreams: Recollections of a Woman in 11th-Century Japan (Penguin Classics).

1. This lovely poetic lament transcends time and space.
   How often does a glimpse of the forbidden (that
   which lies beyond our cloistered grasp) create a melancholia
   that pervades our life?
   As we cross this bridge of dreams - fleeting and ethereal, we
   identify with Lady "Sarashina" and a life of desires destined to remain unfulfilled.
   
   And yet, it is precisely this unfulfillment that allows the memoirs' moody
   passion to blossom. As a result of her discontent, we readers have an opportunity
   to savour the gentle nectar of her often luminous writing.



2. This charming, brief book really does move at a dream-like pace. There are great leaps in time, with no apparent explanation. Things that should have seemed vitally important, like raising three children, are dismissed in a few scattered lines. Sarashina simply walks out on a once-in-a-lifetime imperial ceremony, but returns again and again to the sight of the moonlight.
   
   Sarashina, the pseudonym we have for her, lived and wrote in the first half of the 11th century, in Heian Japan. It is a wonderful quirk of history that this era hosted so many educated, literate women, with cloistered lives that allowed time for introspection. The authors of The Gossamer Years and Shonagon's Pillow Book lived during that same era, and even had family connections to Sarashina.
   
   She wrote this memoir near the end of her life, and seemed to use it as a package for presenting her life. Like an elegantly wrapped package, this tantalizes us by hiding the real substance inside. We read a little of her role in the imperial court, but never see into the closed society of the women's quarters. We see a courtier's career interrupted by family duties, but quite make out what those duties were. We learn that her husband was influential enough to be named regional governor, but we never see her part in his court or how that related to her imperial service. Instead, we read a few conversations, travelogues, and poems, the kind that hide more than they reveal.
   
   As a child, she had a passion for romantic stories. She used those tales to enter worlds of elegant people and beautiful places. It was only in her thirties that she came back to earth, and realized that she had let too much time go by. She did marry, but was widowed early. She did have a comfortable life as lady in waiting, but never found her way into the court's inner circle. It was almost as if her life were one of those romances, but she had been given only a minor role in it.
   
   She wrote this memoir when she was old and alone. It is beautifully literate. Still, I almost wonder whether her mind had started to wander, and wander only where the little girl's romance stories led.
   
   //wiredweird



3. Lady Sharashina lived a life of dreamy lament. It is a wonder if someone of her nature could ever be happy with what the real world could offer. Her brief moments of happiness are gained in dreams and fantasy, or tempting/dreaming the impossible, the forbidden fruit. The real world, despite living a life of relative privilege, was a never ending experience of pain to her. She took seeing the ephemeral (wabi sabi/mono no aware) aspects of life to heiights of seeing the eternal in the ephemeral the great in the small, which can be beautiful (as with Basho), but Lady Sharshina seems too idealistic and self obsessed which makes it something pitiful in the end. The real world is one of duty and lament: "veni, vedi, vici" would not be her epitaph; more like perpetual nostaligic anguish and shyness. Her regrets seem misguided.
   
   Lady Sharashina avoided popular attractions, as opposed to her near contemporary Sei Shonagon, in "The Pillow Book", who endeavored to be the attraction. Some of the scenes are unforgetable and the book is a classic for what it is: the memoirs of a dreamer. The book has one of the most poignent poetic conundrum sort of endings I can recall.
   
   The translation failed to capture all of the poems, which is to be expected; but those that were captured are brilliant.
   
   The contrast between Sei Shonagon and Lady Sharshina is one of the beauties of these books and poses an interesting psychological comparison.



4. Short, poignant and redolent of a very individual experience of life in Heian Japan, the memoirs of 'Lady Sarashina' provide a fascinating glimpse of a woman's life slightly outside of the most exalted circles of eleventh-century life. This is a highly idiosyncratic portrait of its time, concentrating on episodes important to Sarashina herself (dreams, pilgrimages, poetic exchanges) rather than to the politically-active class as a whole. The sense of chronology is vague, the structure dictated more by mood pieces and observations than straightforward diary-keeping.

   As such, this probably isn't the place to start with medieval Japanese writing, but something to try after Sei Shonagon (an altogether more ebullient and resilient character, who _is_ at the centre of things) and Lady Murasaki. Sarashina is too withdrawn to involve herself in the customary court intrigues and liaisons, and too low-status to have much impact. Instead, she occupies herself with the fantastical world of Genji and other "Tales". Her memoirs are also notable for their account of a journey through the provinces to the capital, and for highly-praised poetry that unfortunately doesn't translate particularly well.

   Ivan Morris' concise introduction sets the work in its context and discusses its significance and textual history; line drawings and unobtrusive notes further build our picture of Sarashina's world. A worthwhile purchase.




5. As I Crossed a Bridge of Dreams is a truly nonwestern work. In its tone, its narrative devices, and in the world it presents, this is a work that is clearly "other" from traditional Western fare. While sharing the same structural shell as the Western novel, its story is largely outside the limits of Western expectation.
   
   At its heart, As I Crossed a Bridge of Dreams is a song sung in retrospect by Lady Sarashina. This is a song of denied dreams that always just barely seem to fail.
   

   The one constant of the narrative is sadness. Whether Sarashina's life was really so melancholy or whether she wrote this looking back through the lens of bitterness is speculation. Yet the sadness is palpable. Sadness hovers over each scene. When happiness breaks in, it is an unexpected and short-lived guest.
   
   The narrative covers most of Sarashina's life. It starts in her childhood and leads up to her later years. She lives a very sheltered life in her father's house. So much so that it, in some ways, could be described in non-religious terms as a cloister. All the young Sarashina has to occupy her time is her love of tales and the hope of a more fulfilling future.
   
   The genesis of Sarashina's great unhappiness is the glimpse she gets of the greater life around her--a life that she is never capable of partaking in. In all her travels she is never able to break free from her own internal solitude. She will not allow herself to live in anything more than a "dream."
   
   For me, the extremely episodic nature of the book made it hard to get deeply involved as a reader. There were long spaces in this book where the author dwelt on seemingly unimportant matters. There are also quite a few brief sections where the author skips ahead a number of years. This made things difficult for me to follow on a number of occasions.
   
   The one part of the book that I enjoyed was the poetry. I greatly enjoyed the poem that the author's father had his daughter compose to send to his ex-wife. The moment was both touching and insightful into their relationship.
   
   The native Japanese worldview was wholly foreign to me. All the pilgrimages, priests, nuns, and what I would term "superstitions" struck me as convoluted and semi-capricious. The mother's taking of vows while still living within the house, yet being separated from the household, was a truly odd moment.
   
   Though sometimes hopeful, Sarashina has no true hope. In its place Sarashina resigns herself to the idea that all the bad things happening to her are the result of Karma.
   
   I have a hard time swallowing this much hopelessness. There is an endless sense of wallowing about As I Crossed a Bridge of Dreams. I wanted to talk to Sarashina--to tell her that no matter how deep the darkness, it only takes one point of light to dispel it.

   While this book may have value in being representative of the Japanese Literature of its day, it is not something I would choose to read again. The problem with As I Crossed a Bridge of Dreams is that no one ever crosses the stinking bridge.