Chorus of Mushrooms: week four

This week we start looking at Part Two of Chorus of Mushrooms, which begins with Naoe's departure from the family home (I'm reading up to page 108 in my edition of the book for this week, ending with the part about the salamander). Murasaki doesn't know what happened to her, but makes up several different answers when asked. Why do you think she does this?

I'm also still thinking about what it means to be Asian Canadian in Chorus of Mushrooms. Sometimes, it can mean you know things: how to pick out a Japanese eggplant, how to speak Vietnamese. Other times, it means you don't know things: the difference between a cat and a skunk, for example. And there are other things that Murasaki doesn't know that she or someone else questions, like when the woman in the supermarket asks what a vegetable is called in "your language", assuming she is Chinese. In our latest episode of the Sounds Japanese Canadian to Me podcast, Raymond Nakamura and I talk about going to Japan as a Japanese Canadian and how it can be valuable to get to "know what you don't know", and I think that kind of double-awareness is relevant here: in the supermarket scene, Murasaki doesn't just know about the Japanese eggplant, she also knows what she doesn't know about Chinese vegetables, and she knows what the woman asking her questions expects her to know (Chinese, even though it's not "your language") . Can you think of other ways that Asian Canadian identity is about knowing or not knowing certain things, or certain ways of knowing/not knowing, either in the book or from your own or others' experiences? How are these different ways of knowing/not knowing related to Murasaki's impulse to make up different answers to people asking about her grandmother's fate?

Other things I'm thinking about:

Are the jokes funny? Are there some genuinely funny moments, and others that aren't? How do you tell the difference?

Food is really important in the story: from Naoe's secret stash of dried squid and osenbei to the pomegranate, seaweed, and other things she pilfers from the fridge; and also Murasaki's eggplant and "Jap oranges". Is food a necessary part of (cultural) identity? Why, or if not, why is it so important to Naoe and Murasaki? What food makes you feel connected to your culture/heritage?

Chorus of Mushrooms: week three

By the end of Part One, I'm thinking about the invisible ways that we experience race and racism in Canada. For people like Murasaki and anyone else who doesn't look Caucasian, this is something we deal with on a daily basis from the time we are children onwards. Our parents and grandparents endured name calling, hateful speech, and racist policies from governments and other institutions, and thankfully, these kinds of things are more history than current event. But that doesn't mean that racism has become a thing of the past. 

Murasaki tells her grandmother: "everyone wants to hear stories. And I can't finish them. They scatter like sheep. Like dust" (63). The ways she has been treated because of her race are not obvious, but she still senses they are there. How does the sprinkling of these short anecdotes, like the story of the "Oriental"-looking Valentine, affect the way you experience the other parts of the book - Naoe's internal monologue and stories of her childhood, and Murasaki's later goings-on with her lover? Why include them if they don't seem to lead to a point?

Other things I'm thinking about:

Murasaki seems very casual about the details of her narrative, whether it's how she met her lover - "We could have met anywhere. We could have met, say, in an airport", as if it doesn't matter where they actually met (58). So is Naoe, including things like home perms and Meiji chocolate in her story of Uba-Sute Yama. Does this affect how much you believe other things in the novel so far? Do you believe the fantastical elements? Or does it make you doubt some of the more mundane and otherwise "believeable" details?

Smell is mentioned in interesting ways in this section. Why do you think the author is giving this sense such importance? Is this a realistic detail, a fantastical or symbolic one, or somewhere in between?

Chorus of Mushrooms: week two

We're digging deeper into Chorus of Mushrooms this week - still working our way through Part One, but this time I'm focussing on the section that starts with the story of Izanagi and Izanami, up to the conversation on Highway 2 (pages 29-55 if you have the same edition of the novel that I'm using).

Murasaki describes helping her mother choose new names for Vietnamese refugees who have come to work on the family mushroom farm. Naoe talks about changing her name, and her feelings about the pointlessness of family names being carried forward. There's a lot of re-naming going on in this book - who else gets a new name, and how? How do the different characters feel about this process, and why? What does all of this show us about the characters and the world they live in?

And also, is this related to the uses of English and Japanese in the book and the "translations" or lack thereof? Is it related to the folktale-like stories we're told, like the one of Izanami and Izanagi? If yes, how?

Other things I'm thinking about:

Naoe's and Murasaki's childhoods seem extremely different, but is there anything they have in common? What does each of their stories tell us about the other?

What do we think of the men in this book so far? Shinji seems to have forgotten Japanese even more thoroughly than his wife Keiko; Naoe's former husband Makoto doesn't seem to be the most impressive character. And there's Murasaki's lover as well. What are their roles in the story so far, and what more do you want to know about them?

Chorus of Mushrooms: week one

Hello everyone and welcome to the beginning of our second Nikkei Book Club book discussion! I'm very excited to start reading and discussing Chorus of Mushrooms by Hiromi Goto with you.

*Just a note for everyone about Chorus of Mushrooms: the book is divided into five parts of varying length, so it's not as easy to break it up into sections as Mothertalk. I've broken it up into rough sections to focus my discussion questions on for each week, but I encourage you to read past my arbitrary dividing lines and comment on any part of the book you've come across that resonates with the topics at hand. Try to warn people about spoilers, of course. This week, I'm focussing mostly on the first 29 pages (in my edition) - up to the part about fingers getting frozen in the garage.

When I look at the beginning of Chorus of Mushrooms, I'm immediately struck with all kinds of similarities and parallels with Mothertalk. Both books skirt the line of fiction and non-fiction so you're not sure which is which, but while Mothertalk is (I would argue) usually considered non-fiction, Goto makes sure to tell us that Chorus of Mushrooms ultimately falls on the fiction side of the boundary: "In the process of re-telling personal myth, I have taken tremendous liberties with my grandmother's history. This novel is a departure from historical "fact" into the realms of contemporary folk legend". What sense do you get so far of the book's attitude towards truth? This can include Naoe's, Muriel/Murasaki's, or what you think Hiromi Goto's attitude is. How is the truth useful or important, and how is it overrated? Are there common assumptions that these characters disagree with? Do you agree with what the book and the characters are saying about truth so far?

In particular, I think about this quote about "true" stories: "It's like people want to hear a story, and then, after they're done with it, they can stick the story back to where it came from." (1) Do you agree with this assessment? Are there other reasons why "true" stories like Mary Kiyooka's appeal to you, or don't appeal to you?

And, like in Mothertalk, there's some really interesting back-and-forth between Japanese and English: Murasaki telling her lover a story in Japanese that we read in English, Naoe knowing English but pretending not to and her daughter pretending not to understand Japanese. And yet Muriel/Murasaki and Naoe understand each other even while speaking two different languages. Are actual language barriers of any importance in Chorus of Mushrooms, or are they just stand-ins for other barriers and creators of intimacy? Why do you think language works this way in this particular story, what does that tell you about the world we're entering?

For those of you who read Mothertalk, are there any other things you notice about Chorus of Mushrooms so far that make for an interesting compare/contrast? And whether you're new to the Nikkei Book Club or not, what other books does Chorus of Mushrooms remind you of, and why?

-Carolyn

Mothertalk: wrapup discussion

Our in-person discussion on Saturday was an intimate, but engaging experience. I'd like to share some of what we discussed for those of you who weren't able to join us here at the museum. And there's no reason the discussion has to end with last Saturday - if you weren't able to join us then, or if you've had more ideas since, please add your thoughts in the comments! And remember that I'll be making posts about our next book, Chorus of Mushrooms by Hiromi Goto, starting this week, so check back on Thursday for that!

We talked about Mothertalk as, as Hiromi Goto puts it on the back cover of the book, "Roy Kiyooka's biography of his mother". It seems more like a memoir, because it's written in first person, but - and without seeing the different working drafts for the book, we're mostly just speculating on this - Roy seems to have arranged his mother's stories as his raw material, like a composer might create a score from existing melodies woven together in new ways. And Daphne Marlatt describes, in her introduction, what sound like rather significant alterations that she made to Roy's manuscript upon his death. I think his death while working on Mothertalk changed the book significantly - completed by his loved ones afterwards, it becomes not just Mary's biography, but also a tribute to Roy and his own work as an artist. This is especially apparent with the inclusion of pieces of his poetry at the beginning of each section of the book. What do you think of this decision? Did you enjoy the poetry, or find it distracting? And do you agree with those of us on Saturday who felt that Roy was indeed the author of the book? What about the role of Daphne Marlatt, or Mary herself - are they also authors of Mothertalk?

Here's a topic for debate: is Mary a typical Issei woman?

On the yes side, we came up with: she bluntly tells us about the harsh conditions for immigrants in Canada, about the circumstances and difficulties of her marriage, and also her acceptance of those difficulties and her choice to stay with her husband, no matter what, for the sake of the children. While other Issei are not always so forthcoming in telling about these difficulties, they do seem to be there in most cases. Mary also seems characteristically Issei due to her enduring love and longing for, and connection to her homeland in Japan, and also from her unbelievable toughness in the face of a life completely different from anything she could have expected, and her willingness to make the best of it.

On the no side: while many families from the samurai class emigrated around the time that Mary did, it was less usual for her to marry outside of the class, and to marry someone already living abroad. And more than that, it was exceptional that she was trained in Iai by her father. Some felt it was a shame that she didn't take over for him!

Do you have anything to add for either side? Is there enough here to make a final judgement of overall "yes", she is a typical Issei woman, or "no", she isn't?

We noticed that most of the women that Mary mentions in Mothertalk, outside of her family, were at some point involved with some kind of prostitution. What does this say about the world she lived in? What kind of attitude does Mary have towards these women, and is that attitude typical for someone of her generation, or progressive?

Do you agree with Mary's decision throughout her life to marry and stay with her husband? Would you have done the same, or when do you think you would have left?

What do you make of the ghost stories? Those of us at the museum on Saturday liked them very much and felt they were part of the Japanese sensibility of the book. But while most of the ghosts Mary describes were in Japan, there is one ghost she mentions that was in Roy's house in Canada (near the end of part 6). What does this tell us about Mary's world, in Japan and in Canada?

Another question, maybe related to the last: are there any parts of the book where you don't believe Mary's version of her story? In addition to the ghost stories, I'm also thinking of the times when Marlatt has added endnotes where Mary's children disagree with what Mary says. Does it matter whose version of the story is how things actually happened?

And there's certainly even more to discuss than what I've already mentioned here. Please share any thoughts you have on Mothertalk in the comments, whether related to these questions or not. And thank you for reading this lovely book along with me. I hope you'll also join me in reading the Asian Canadian favourite Chorus of Mushrooms!

-Carolyn