Book Review: Memoirs of a Geisha (1997)

Chicken Man goes on a "books about Asian women" binge. First is Memoirs of a Geisha. Prepare yourself for more.
Note: In recent years it has been fairly rare that I take the time to read fiction. This is because reading tends to be a time-intensive process and I demand to come away with something (most often new knowledge about some subject of interest). Perhaps unjustly, I have taken modern fiction to largely be for purposes of entertainment and without the benefit of learning much of anything. Film seems to be a superior substitute if only for the benefit of taking less time to enjoy. Hence it is rare that I would recommend a novel to someone. Please take that for what it's worth.

What truly struck me about Arthur Golden's novel is the sheer amount of detail the reader experiences through the eyes of the heroine, Sayuri (who is called Chiyo as a child). She is able to weave a tapestry of similies and metaphors as if her words can create nature as well as Bob Ross' brush. It's almost as if her ability to do so alone makes Memoirs of a Geisha worth reading; Mr. Golden is like a poet in his creation of the thoughts of Sayuri. It is more than that, though the way it is written may be its most attractive feature. Another part of the appeal is stepping into the kimono of a rural Japanese girl of the 1930s who is essentially forced into human trafficking, albeit the most glamorous portrayal of human trafficking that I know of. That is not to say "glamorized" though, for the plight of little Chiyo is one in which it is hard not to sympathize. A recurring them throughout my "books about Asian women" binge is that of the lower status of women in many Asian cultures, and hopefully by the end the reader will realize why the phenomenon of seeing little old Asian ladies at the gym is so prevalent: they are tough! And so it is with Sayuri, who loses her only friend early in the story and has to grow up without another. This is one feature of the story that seems difficult to believe: nearly everyone Chiyo encounters goes out of her way to make her life hell. Such lack of sympathy raises questions about human nature. As such, one cannot help but cheer Sayuri on and take her cause as one's own. Memoirs of a Geisha is a joy to read and, for the most part, reasonably well-paced. It does get a bit long in passing the 500 page mark but it doesn't feel as though much filler was used (which seems to plague too much fiction). Without a doubt, it is one of the most refreshing novels of recent memory and I cannot say that I regret having read it.