He likes toast and jam . . .

Each semester during the first Japanese language class it is customary for each student to introduce themselves, and briefly tell why he or she is studying Japanese. Sometimes it is because a spouse or partner is Japanese. (As one man put it, "I want to know what my mother-in-law (義理のお母さん—giri no okaasan) is saying about me.") Sometimes it is because they are (二世—nisei) second or (三世—sansei) third generation Japanese-American, and they want to connect to that part of their heritage. And very often, especially with the younger students, it is because they are おたく (otaku—obsessive fans, usually of anime or manga). Whatever the primary reason is they very often finish the 自己紹介 (jikoshoukai—self-introduction) with, "and I love everything about Japan—especially sushi."


It always comes as a shock to them when I explain that my major goal is to be able to read some of the great works of Japanese literature. Works that often have very little, if any, swordplay; and pretty much never feature main characters with neon colored hair, or overly cute, unidentifiable creatures. Inevitably, someone will ask, 「日本料理が好きですか。」(Nihon ryouri ga suki desu ka—do you like Japanese cooking?) There is always a long, awkward silence after I answer.

How can you not love everything about Japan?

My wife and I have been together for twenty-eight years. She is an amazing person, and the perfect partner for me. I truly cannot imagine life without her. But, he said looking over his shoulder, she has one or two habits that are just short of endearing. By the same token, I have frequently been told quite explicitly that I have a few (dozen) traits that occasionally, in her opinion, are less than pleasing. This, however, does not mean that we are going to hire lawyers tomorrow to help decide which one of us takes their sorry butt elsewhere. What it does mean is that we have learned that what we love is the whole person, which just may include a tendency to keep the thermostat set ten degrees too high. We will also be there when the other person needs a hand overcoming a personal demon, or getting through one of the less than fun things Fate throws at you.

There are many things about Japan I like. The Japanese have a long, but still vibrant literary tradition. They still understand the power and beauty of the short story. Their aesthetic sense is, in my opinion, perhaps the most finely tuned of any culture. Their dedication to excellence and constant striving for perfection at all levels is amazing. I even like the formality and the differing layers of language that lets everyone know just where they fit into the scheme of things.

There is, however, also a rigidity of thought that won't allow for alternative methods of accomplishing something. Kanji, for example, must always be written in a certain stroke order, and the strokes must always be drawn in a specified direction. I have a friend who, when she saw me write a character, would claim not to be able to read it because, being left-handed, I would sometimes make horizontal strokes from right to left instead of the required left to right.

As for 和食 (washoku—Japanese cuisine), you can have mine. Please. I'll pay you.

くらきよりくらきに入るや猫の恋
Out of the dark/Into the dark/Cat's love