Sunday, September 16, 2012

The Garden Of Evening Mists

I don't even know where to begin.  This second novel by Tan Twan Eng has made it to the Man Booker Prize short list - I believe deservedly - so I guess I can start there.  And yet, books that earn prizes often do not resonate with me.  But...oh, what splendid writing you'll find in this garden of mist.

The sky was streaked with the carnage of sunset when we came out to the yard at the back of the prison.  Hideyoshi stopped and turned his face upward, breathing in the light from the first stars of the evening.  The guards pushed him up a flight of steps to the hanging platform and positioned him beneath the noose.  They looped the rope around his neck and tightened it.  He stumbled but regained his balance.  One of the guards held up a blindfold.  Hideyhoshi shook his head.  A Buddhist monk, appointed to conduct the rites for these executions, began to pray, thumbing the string of beads twined around his fingers as line after line of prayers unreeled from his throat.  The droning washed over me.  Hideyoshi and I looked at one another until the trapdoor cracked open and he dropped into an abyss only he could see.    
 Page after page of controlled emotion, without ever being over-written:

Drawing back his right sleeve with his left hand, Aritomo picked up the teapot and filled his cup almost to the brim.  He put the teapot down in the exact spot from where he had lifted it and pivoted on his knees to face the mountains to the east.  He remained in that position for what seemed like a long time.  Then, like a flower drooping to touch the earth, he brought his head low to the floor.  Straightening his body a moment later, he held the cup in his hands and touched it to his forehead.  I left him there, giving one last farewell to the man he had once known, a man who had already traveled past the mountains and journeyed beyond the mists and the clouds.
A painting could not produce an image with any better clarity.  It isn't very often that I find myself speechless over a novel.   And so here I sit, fingers on the keyboard, not knowing what to say.

I was planning on jumping into a Margery Allingham mystery after finishing The Garden Of Evening Mists, but instead I went to the library and actually found a copy of A Gift Of Rain, Eng's first novel.  I could not believe my luck.  But I don't  think I'll begin it just yet.  I want to think about Aritomo, the gardener to the last emperor of Japan, and Teoh Yun Ling, the Chinese girl who survived a Japanese prison camp.  I think I'll linger awhile in Yugiri, the garden Aritomo created.  I can only hope there is such a place somewhere.  Listen to the last words in the book:

The lotus flowers are opening in the first rays of the sun.  Tomorrow's rain lies on the horizon, but high up in the sky something pale and small is descending, growing in size as it falls.  I watch the heron circle the pond, a leaf spiraling down to the water, setting off silent ripples across the garden.    
I can only hope there is.

9 comments:

  1. A place can always exist if we imagine it! Lovely words, both by you and the author.

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  2. Tinky, this novel has so much going for it. There is drama and heart ache, joy and a soaring spirit. I hope it wins the Man Booker.

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  3. I put myself on the library hold queue for this one after your goodreads recommendation. I'm number 25 so by the end of October or early November I'll be enjoying this! Thanks! I am looking forward to it.

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  4. Stefanie, I am now reading A Gift Of Rain. So far, love it. I made the mistake of reading a review in The Guardian...the only one that panned the book. Now, every time he uses an analogy that "such and such is like this and that..." I get steamed at that critic because what I would never have noticed I now do...and it affects my enjoyment - like the tiniest grease spot on a silk blouse that you wouldn't have noticed until someone points it out to you and then its like a beacon. But I am truly enjoying it nevertheless. And you're 25 on the list? Wow. I've moved up to #6 for Bring Up The Bodies.

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  5. Wow, breathtaking writing... and please, please, PUH-LEASE let me finally be writing on a computer that allows me to post a comment on your blog, as I have all but given up after countless attempts during the Grand Tour... Beyond frustrating, let me tell you.

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  6. Di! I've missed you. Blasted technology. The Grand Tour sounded splendid. As Scarlett O'Hara would say, "I'm pea green with envy."

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  7. Thanks for your review. I actually have this book on hold... long line-up at our public library. I like to read Booker novels, be they winners or short listed. This is most interesting because I think she's the first Chinese writer of English to be nominated for a Booker... am I correct? Well, maybe not. But the subject matter and the setting really piqued my curiosity.

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  8. Arti, not long now. The winner will be announced soon. Eng is Malaysian, but writes in English. I hope you will find this novel as lovely as I did!

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  9. Hiya! I am so excited to get to know if you have a lot of traffic on your blogging resource?

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