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3.69 AVERAGE
3.69 AVERAGE
slow-paced
White guy goes to Japan and collects art he sees valuable rather than what Japanese see valuable.
I can get behind Kerr's yearning for the pre-industrial natural landscape, and I do appreciate how he widened my vocabulary with regards to traditional Japanese arts. This was the perfect book to find in a hostel in Kyoto and read while traveling around the Kansai area. But some features of this book I found really grating: the uncritical nostalgia for the good old days (what even is that, the 1970s? the Heian period?), the unnecessary name dropping (the Andy Warhol episode was particularly excruciating, but there were at least twenty more), the glaringly immense amounts of unexamined privilege (there is always someone offering a job, always a friend to financially support a business idea or step in with expertise, academic scholarships are acquired out of nowhere, collecting art costs "mere" thousands of dollars... Call me bitter, but who lives in a world that works like this?). The last chapter most definitely exists only so the reader can think to herself, oh, Kerr says he can't find another literati circle after leaving Oxford, but clearly, by his own definition, he is one of them--he's probably just too humble to realize this! It's funny to criticize Japan for glorifying itself, and then go right ahead and glorify your own vision of Japan instead.
...I'll still bookmark all the places mentioned in this book on Google Maps, though. Thanks, Mr Kerr!
...I'll still bookmark all the places mentioned in this book on Google Maps, though. Thanks, Mr Kerr!
2005 read while in Japan
Lost or non-existent, I'm really not sure which. So long has passed since Alex Kerr wrote this book that I'm not sure even his Japan exists anymore, but the book is still a great read. Loved the Osaka chapters and the acknowledgemnent that you can be a Japan-o-phile without worshipping the place.
The Japanese have always tended to treat foreigners like creatures from another universe.
100% agreed, a lot of Alex Kerr's 'existing Japan' thoughts are less relevant now but that, still entirely true. It's part of what I love about the country though, it really is. As is the Law of Palaver. I think if someone were ever to just stand up and make a decision, the others around would faint from surprise, it's just not how things are done.
And as I said earlier, I agree entirely with his thoughts on Osaka. The trip to Kyushu taught me that really, Japan isn't all that ugly. But you know what, I wouldn't live anywhere else. I love it here. Bumps and all. "It is the last bastion against the sea of ordinariness sweeping over Japan, and when it goes there will be many who miss it. In the words of Tamasaburo, 'The decline of Kyoto I can live with. But please, please, Osaka never change!'" One of the things I missed when I was gone was the unique culture, the dancers outside work, the goths at Osaka Castle Park on Sundays, the fun that is Osaka.
Love this country I really do.
Lost or non-existent, I'm really not sure which. So long has passed since Alex Kerr wrote this book that I'm not sure even his Japan exists anymore, but the book is still a great read. Loved the Osaka chapters and the acknowledgemnent that you can be a Japan-o-phile without worshipping the place.
The Japanese have always tended to treat foreigners like creatures from another universe.
100% agreed, a lot of Alex Kerr's 'existing Japan' thoughts are less relevant now but that, still entirely true. It's part of what I love about the country though, it really is. As is the Law of Palaver. I think if someone were ever to just stand up and make a decision, the others around would faint from surprise, it's just not how things are done.
And as I said earlier, I agree entirely with his thoughts on Osaka. The trip to Kyushu taught me that really, Japan isn't all that ugly. But you know what, I wouldn't live anywhere else. I love it here. Bumps and all. "It is the last bastion against the sea of ordinariness sweeping over Japan, and when it goes there will be many who miss it. In the words of Tamasaburo, 'The decline of Kyoto I can live with. But please, please, Osaka never change!'" One of the things I missed when I was gone was the unique culture, the dancers outside work, the goths at Osaka Castle Park on Sundays, the fun that is Osaka.
Love this country I really do.
White dude went to japan with a mission to save its old art and tradition.
Many conflicting information and name dropping.
Couldn’t care less
Many conflicting information and name dropping.
Couldn’t care less
adventurous
informative
reflective
medium-paced
This was a highly informative and enjoyable read; Kerr writes beautifully about different elements of traditional Japanese culture (e.g. kabuki, calligraphy, art collecting) while weaving in his own experiences and encounters from living in Japan and studying its unique culture.
I particularly enjoyed the chapters which focused on cities and areas such as Kyoto or Osaka - Kerr seems to write about them as if they were familiar friends with peculiar quirks, as opposed to resorting to the sweeping generalisations and cliches travel-writing often tends to fall back on.
I particularly enjoyed the chapters which focused on cities and areas such as Kyoto or Osaka - Kerr seems to write about them as if they were familiar friends with peculiar quirks, as opposed to resorting to the sweeping generalisations and cliches travel-writing often tends to fall back on.
Kyoto hates Kyoto. It is probably the world's only cultural center of which this is true. The Romans love Rome. [...] But the people of Kyoto cannot bear the fact that Kyoto is not Tokyo. [...] I first noticed the malaise shortly after moving to Kyoto. I asked a friend, 'When did the unhappiness set in?' and he answered, 'Around 1600.' In other words, the people of Kyoto never forgave Edo for usurping its place as capital. When the Emperor moved to Tokyo in 1868, that was the final blow to Kyoto's self-esteem.
Kerr's appreciation and deep knowledge, as well as his commitment (see his admirable efforts to restore abandoned houses), to Japanese culture is evident throughout the novel, making him the expert guide to take his reader through this endlessly fascinating country and its shifting cultural landscape. Kerr's observations about the increasing ugliness and standardisation of Japanese architecture and city planning are both striking and alarming.
Kerr's writing also feels very warm and genuine, and has touches of wit and humour which render Lost Japan a particularly delightful read. Would thoroughly recommend for all Japanophiles, and indeed all those restless for their next adventure.
(Also interesting that Kerr originally wrote this book in Japanese; it was then later translated and reworked into English!)
Blimey this is boring, just forcing myself to read it but it's shite
Why can't I give half star ratings? This one sits solidly at 3.5 stars, as I can't decide whether I actually like it or not. It was interesting, but so unbelievably dense it took me almost 4 months to plow through the whole thing. As someone who can read 400 page books in a day, finishing this was a labour.
This book is a series of essays with a few high-school-English linking phrases thrown in at the end of "chapters" (which are of wildly varying length). Some chapters are infinitely more interesting than others. Which parts are appealing obviously depend on individual taste, but that and the density are what I'm attributing to my lengthy slog to the final finish line.
Kerr toes the line of "hurr-burr technology is evil and Thomas Edison was a witch", but had it ever crossed it I would not have been able to continue. This is not an attitude that was intentionally portrayed; the author doesn't come across as bitter, more just sad. This book is a love letter to the Japan of old, a Japan I've never known during the time I've lived here. The author writes on various topics with love, and it isn't hard to see the joy they bring him. Thus, when reading the book, you don't feel that the author is bashing modern Japan (mostly - this guy has a serious issue with wires), he is making a plea not to forget old Japan, not to let it die.
Surprisingly for foreigners, Japanese people in general really just don't care about conserving their traditional arts. This is something I learned before reading this book from my shamisen teacher, who told me that she was very happy to teach foreigners (despite the language barrier), because Japanese people weren't that interested. We can see why some things have fizzled out due to being exorbitantly expensive, inconvenient and so impractical. As someone who lives with a tatami floor, trust me. Who wants a floor you can't ever get wet or spill ANYTHING on because it'll get mouldy and attract wildlife, a floor that stinks to the high heavens in summer heat, a floor that you're not supposed to hoover but have to buy two specific types of wipe before getting down on your hands and knees to clean like a peasant, a floor that needs replacing every few years or it starts stabbing and shedding all over you? pls make it stop. However, for some things, it just seems sad. It's tragic to me that after a few weeks of interest I know more about kimono than most Japanese people.
The book is split into chapters covering a range of topics from traditional housing (my own personal nightmare) to calligraphy to business to the spread of modernisation in Japan. Clearly the author and I have very different opinions of what constitutes as ugly. As I mentioned earlier, Kerr has a serious issue with wires and telephone poles etc., his hatred of them is referenced many times throughout the book. Personally, I love the ridiculous amount of wires it seems to take to keep this country running - to me it's quintessentially Japanese, something from movies that I've always associated with Japan, a part of what makes Japan Japan. It's an aesthetic, innit? They're everywhere, unavoidable. I suppose he has known Japan without them, whereas I haven't.
The book features many interesting takes on why some things are the way that they are in Japan, e.g. the obsession with fluorescent lighting. I mean, to be fair, if I'd grown up in eternal gloom and darkness I'd be obsessed too. Easy to judge something you've never known. Kerr does a good job of explaining things that are extremely difficult to explain, for example, the love/hate relationship with kanji in a very elegant way. Actually, the kanji section is LEGIT. There's definitely more worthwhile information to have. Outside of Japan/Hong Kong/China, kanji are completely useless and seem overly complicated. But they do have a logic, an elegance, that hooks your interest and attention. Then again, I live here, I'm already familiar with the source material. Maybe if I wasn't it would seem a little lacking.
Clearly, the author has a particular gift for picking friends. All of them seem to be rich and convenient, well-connected and well-to-do, who can lend money and buy artwork without a care. Despite the author's money woes detailed in the book, it seems to me that he's actually very privileged, having been to Yale and Oxbridge and having such well-connected friends. This isn't an issue I had with the book. Just something that pissed me off. I'd love to have the disposable income to just buy a fucking house and fly all over the shop without a care. Whatever. Also, how can you live in Japan for THAT long, learning so much about traditional arts and ways of life, and NOT KNOW that geisha aren't prostitutes?? I mean ffs, if I, with a comparatively microscopic pool of experience, can tell you that, maybe you should check yourself before throwing out stupid comments about stuff you clearly know nothing about. Get a grip. "geisha madams", I swear to God... This sort of blinding lack of understanding really makes me question the author's knowledge.
You can tell straight away that the author loves Japan, but he is able to write critically. He commendably does not fall into the oh-so-common "Japan is the most bestest superior super country!" attitude, which is actually addressed in the book. He is able to aptly describe Japan's issues in a way that this attitude would consider "bashing", but is actually just honest. In Japan, there is no middle ground here, like Marmite, you can love it or you can hate it.
My biggest issue with this book was that it's fucking DENSE. It's so serious, all the time. I was constantly reminded why I prefer light-hearted fiction. If you don't have any knowledge at all of traditional Japan, then this isn't the book for you, not to start with. If you have a basic grasp of these things, and/or Japan as a concept (something that is impossible without having visited here, honestly), then definitely give it a go.
This book is a series of essays with a few high-school-English linking phrases thrown in at the end of "chapters" (which are of wildly varying length). Some chapters are infinitely more interesting than others. Which parts are appealing obviously depend on individual taste, but that and the density are what I'm attributing to my lengthy slog to the final finish line.
Kerr toes the line of "hurr-burr technology is evil and Thomas Edison was a witch", but had it ever crossed it I would not have been able to continue. This is not an attitude that was intentionally portrayed; the author doesn't come across as bitter, more just sad. This book is a love letter to the Japan of old, a Japan I've never known during the time I've lived here. The author writes on various topics with love, and it isn't hard to see the joy they bring him. Thus, when reading the book, you don't feel that the author is bashing modern Japan (mostly - this guy has a serious issue with wires), he is making a plea not to forget old Japan, not to let it die.
Surprisingly for foreigners, Japanese people in general really just don't care about conserving their traditional arts. This is something I learned before reading this book from my shamisen teacher, who told me that she was very happy to teach foreigners (despite the language barrier), because Japanese people weren't that interested. We can see why some things have fizzled out due to being exorbitantly expensive, inconvenient and so impractical. As someone who lives with a tatami floor, trust me. Who wants a floor you can't ever get wet or spill ANYTHING on because it'll get mouldy and attract wildlife, a floor that stinks to the high heavens in summer heat, a floor that you're not supposed to hoover but have to buy two specific types of wipe before getting down on your hands and knees to clean like a peasant, a floor that needs replacing every few years or it starts stabbing and shedding all over you? pls make it stop. However, for some things, it just seems sad. It's tragic to me that after a few weeks of interest I know more about kimono than most Japanese people.
The book is split into chapters covering a range of topics from traditional housing (my own personal nightmare) to calligraphy to business to the spread of modernisation in Japan. Clearly the author and I have very different opinions of what constitutes as ugly. As I mentioned earlier, Kerr has a serious issue with wires and telephone poles etc., his hatred of them is referenced many times throughout the book. Personally, I love the ridiculous amount of wires it seems to take to keep this country running - to me it's quintessentially Japanese, something from movies that I've always associated with Japan, a part of what makes Japan Japan. It's an aesthetic, innit? They're everywhere, unavoidable. I suppose he has known Japan without them, whereas I haven't.
The book features many interesting takes on why some things are the way that they are in Japan, e.g. the obsession with fluorescent lighting. I mean, to be fair, if I'd grown up in eternal gloom and darkness I'd be obsessed too. Easy to judge something you've never known. Kerr does a good job of explaining things that are extremely difficult to explain, for example, the love/hate relationship with kanji in a very elegant way. Actually, the kanji section is LEGIT. There's definitely more worthwhile information to have. Outside of Japan/Hong Kong/China, kanji are completely useless and seem overly complicated. But they do have a logic, an elegance, that hooks your interest and attention. Then again, I live here, I'm already familiar with the source material. Maybe if I wasn't it would seem a little lacking.
Clearly, the author has a particular gift for picking friends. All of them seem to be rich and convenient, well-connected and well-to-do, who can lend money and buy artwork without a care. Despite the author's money woes detailed in the book, it seems to me that he's actually very privileged, having been to Yale and Oxbridge and having such well-connected friends. This isn't an issue I had with the book. Just something that pissed me off. I'd love to have the disposable income to just buy a fucking house and fly all over the shop without a care. Whatever. Also, how can you live in Japan for THAT long, learning so much about traditional arts and ways of life, and NOT KNOW that geisha aren't prostitutes?? I mean ffs, if I, with a comparatively microscopic pool of experience, can tell you that, maybe you should check yourself before throwing out stupid comments about stuff you clearly know nothing about. Get a grip. "geisha madams", I swear to God... This sort of blinding lack of understanding really makes me question the author's knowledge.
You can tell straight away that the author loves Japan, but he is able to write critically. He commendably does not fall into the oh-so-common "Japan is the most bestest superior super country!" attitude, which is actually addressed in the book. He is able to aptly describe Japan's issues in a way that this attitude would consider "bashing", but is actually just honest. In Japan, there is no middle ground here, like Marmite, you can love it or you can hate it.
My biggest issue with this book was that it's fucking DENSE. It's so serious, all the time. I was constantly reminded why I prefer light-hearted fiction. If you don't have any knowledge at all of traditional Japan, then this isn't the book for you, not to start with. If you have a basic grasp of these things, and/or Japan as a concept (something that is impossible without having visited here, honestly), then definitely give it a go.
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
informative
inspiring
reflective
relaxing
slow-paced