Friday, June 28, 2019

Inheritance


All my life I had known there was a secret.
What I hadn’t known: the secret was me.

Inheritance, a particularly interesting and thoughtful memoir, was written by Dani Shapiro, a successful novelist, memoirist and professor of creative writing.  Both her parents were Jewish and her ancestors, on her father’s side, were exceptionally distinguished rabbis and leaders of national Orthodox Jewish associations.  Dani spoke Hebrew fluently, having attended a Joseph Schechter Jewish Day School, a prestigious prep school and then Sarah Lawrence, where she was strongly influenced by Grace Paley.  It’s not a terrible spoiler (it's recounted within the first few pages of Inheritance) to say that Dani was literally stunned and disoriented to discover, through incidental DNA testing, that her father, Paul Shapiro, was not her biological father.  With the help of her husband, Michael Meran, a journalist and screenwriter, Dani quickly was able to identify a person who was almost certain to be her biological father. 

The shocking DNA evidence triggers intense self-searching and quests for understanding. How could her parentage have been so estranged from Jewish law and tradition?  Which members of her family (almost all now deceased) knew the secret of her parentage?  How could she herself, blond and blue-eyed, not have known? 

And, finally, what relationships might develop with her new family and how would she be affected by discovering this whole new side of herself?  I highly recommend this most emotional and thoughtful memoir.
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Tuesday, June 18, 2019

Daughter of the Samurai

My thanks to Lauren, who, several years ago,  recommended this unusual, interesting, and charming book!  Etsu Inagaki Sugimoto was born in a small Japanese village in 1874, just twenty years after Mathew Perry and "the black ships" forced Japan to open to the world.  Etsu's father had once been a high samurai official and she was brought up in the stringent and severe samurai tradition.   She was disciplined and courageous, yet she also proved to be flexible, open-minded and surprisingly thoughtful and sweet.  In Daughter of the Samurai, Etsu relates and reflects on her early experiences in traditional Japan and her later life in America.

When still very young, Etsu was betrothed to Matsuo, a friend of her brother.  Before she ever met Matsuo, however, he moved to America to set up a business. Her family then allowed Etsu to move to Tokyo so that she could receive a "western education" that would prepare her for her new life - in Cincinnati!   Etsu and Matsuo had two daughters, but after Matsuo died, she returned to Japan for several years.  Later, they moved back to America, where Etsu eventually taught Japanese language and culture at Columbia University and authored several books. I discovered that her youngest daughter, Chiyo, also became an author; one of her books had a title,  "But the ships are sailing -- sailing," which puzzled me until I read the concluding paragraphs of Daughter of the Samurai:
"I wonder why they were called "black ships." Do you know, Honourable Grandmother?" 
"Because far out on the waters they looked like clouds of black smoke rolling nearer and nearer, and they had long, black guns that roared. The red barbarians cared nothing for beauty. They laughed at the Japanese boats, whose sails were made of rich brocade and their oars of carved wood, inlaid with coral and mother-of-pearl. They talked like tradesmen and did not want to learn the hearts of the children of the gods." 
The grandmother stopped and slowly shook her head. 
"And after that?" asked the eager little voice. "And after that, Honourable Grandmother?" 
"The black ships and the rude barbarians sailed away," she concluded, with a deep sigh. "But they sailed back many times. They are always sailing. And now the people of our sacred land talk like tradesmen and no longer are peaceful and content." 
"Will they never be peaceful and content again?" asked the little girl, with anxious eyes. "The honourable teacher said that sailing ships bring lands nearer to each other." 
"Listen!" said the grandmother, holding herself very straight. "Little Granddaughter, unless the red barbarians and the children of the gods learn each other's hearts, the ships may sail and sail, but the two lands will never be nearer." 
Years passed, and Etsu-bo, the little girl who had listened to the story of the black ships and the red barbarians, herself went sailing on a black ship that moved without sails, to a new home in the distant land of the red barbarians. There she learned that hearts are the same on both sides of the world; but this is a secret hidden from the people of the West. That makes another chapter to my grandmother's tale - another chapter, but not the last.  The red barbarians and the children of the gods have not yet learned each other's hearts; to them the secret is still unknown, but the ships are sailing---sailing----