Generations in Japan

EVER since Arthur Golden's Memoirs Of A Geisha savaged global bestseller lists, Japan has featured pretty high on the list of priorities of publishers. Or rather more specifically, non- fiction accounts of life in Japan that masquerade as fiction, seem to have become more popular than ever before. Ruri Pilgrim's Fish Of The Seto Inland Sea (HarperCollins), a novel about three generations of a Japanese family, fits very nicely into this category, and seems set for a fair amount of success.

Rather like Jung Chang's Wild Swans, this book also took shape on the shores of a country other than the one in which it is set. The author married and moved to England, and after her mother was widowed she came to her daughter's home to spend her last days. It was during this time that Pilgrim writes, "My family wanted me to write about my mother and her life in Japan, which is also my background. For a while after my mother's death, I had not been able to face the task as I felt that I knew too little about her earlier life and I was reluctant to probe into the emotions of someone who had been close to me". However, at her family's urging she finally decided to write her family's story in the form of a novel. Her models were two masters of contemporary Japanese literature, Soseki and Tanizaki, who created novels around their families. Having completed her novel, the author visited the places she had heard about from her mother. Much had changed, and for a while she was confused about the world she had created. Which part of it was real, and which was imagined? And then came the realisation that it really did not matter. She writes: "It was while I stood on the shore of the Seto Inland Sea with warm water lapping around my ankles and heard the murmur of the waves that I realised I did not need to apologise for creating the places and people which fill the book. The story is true of the lives of Japanese men and women who lived during the period I wrote about".

Ms. Pilgrim has an artless style which is beguiling. Domestic life is treated with the same spare, unvarnished prose as great events, such as the tremendous battles that Japan fought during the Russo-Japanese war and the Second World War, and the effect is that the reader is subtly ensnared by the novel rather than pounded into submission. It is an agreeable feeling and I began to enjoy the twists and turns of the Miwa and Shirai families with whom the novel starts. Shintaro Miwa, the doctor son of the Miwas, marries Ayako Shirai, whose family has practised traditional Japanese medicine for generations. Personal tragedies and triumphs are played out against the backdrop of war, famine and earthquakes. Dr. Shintaro dies early and Ayako brings up the children, three girls and a boy.

The novel moves seamlessly to the next generation, and centres on Haruko, her husband Nozomi Sanjo and his siblings. Events have moved on and this generation lives out its time in a time of even more acute tragedy. But they survive and the torch is passed to Emi and Mari, Haruko's children and the modern age, where peace and prosperity push Japan to the forefront of the world.

Ms. Pilgrim's unhurried, unadorned prose gives the novel a very even, soothing quality. On occasion, this can prove somewhat annoying, especially when death and life, excitement and everyday routine all get the same treatment, but it is not a major drawback, because once you get into the narrative she spins you are drawn along effortlessly towards the very end. If you're the sort who is looking for an in-your face novel, then Fish Of The Seto Inland Sea is not for you.

But if you like to be beguiled into the clutches of a good story, you will like this book very much indeed. I'll leave you with an example of Ms. Pilgrim's storytelling skills. In the following paragraphs, we are shown the death of Dr. Shintaro: "'I am sorry .... Please look after Shuichi and the other children, and help Ayako', Shintaro said in a low but clear voice. In Confucius' terms, Shintaro was an undutiful son, as his death preceded those of his parents and gave them grief.

'Do not worry. Shuichi will be well taken care of as the heir of the Miwas. And the other children, too, of course,' Tei-ichi said from behind Shobei. Shobei had his arms folded and did not move.

'Thank you,' Shintaro said, and closed his eyes.

'The wind blew hard and bamboo bushes kept hitting the shutters. The electric bulb hanging from the ceiling swayed in a draught and moved their shadows. The next morning, Haruko found that all the white hagi flowers had gone from the garden, blown away by the wind.'"

DAVID DAVIDAR

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