The Search for the Pink-Headed Duck by Rory Nugent (Open Road)

Rory Nugent’s amusing account of his search for a rare bird started with a talk among five friends about lost treasures. They were talking about what is left to find in the world. One of his friends said, “India is the place”. He continued by saying, “One of us should go after the pink-headed duck. It hasn’t been sighted in years. Extremely rare…the most elusive bird in the world.” 

The next day, Nugent did some research and discovered that the last sighting of the bird was some fifty years ago in India. The more research he did on the duck, the more interested he became in finding it. Most scientists believe the duck to be extinct but from time to time, sightings of the bird have been reported. Nugent comes to believe that the bird may just be hiding. Then, two months later, he sold his apartment and put the rest of his stuff in storage, took a taxi to JFK airport and flew to India. 

The Search for the Pink-Headed Duck chronicles Nugent’s search for the rarest of birds as he begins his journey by looking for the Fowl Market in Calcutta. When people learn what it is he’s looking for, he is accosted by a number of people claiming to have the pink-headed duck although it is obvious even to the most casual of observers that the ducks presented to him have had their heads dyed pink. Not finding any luck in Calcutta, Nugent decides to go to New Delhi, the capital of India. 

Nugent spends the first few days riding the buses to give himself an introduction to the city. He buys a city map and a relief map of India where he discovers two areas that are unmarked and unnamed. “One is a narrow section near the giant rhododendron forest of Northeastern Sikkim; the other, triangular in shape, lies in the upper Brahmaputra River Valley, near the conjunction of Burma, China, and India. Rory decided then and there where next to start his search. 

As Sikkim is near the border of Tibet and Bhutan, permission has never been given to a foreigner to explore those areas. Nugent is also informed that it is only the federal government that can grant permits to those restricted areas. And so begins Nugent’s ordeal dealing with government red tape. One of the natives who befriends him suggests offering the officials some baksheesh, commonly known in English as a bribe. to the official but Nugent sticks to doing things the proper and legal way. 

His persistence pays off as he does get approval to visit Sikkim and can continue his search for the pink-headed duck. In Sikkim he meets smugglers who help him step inside Tibet even though his permit doesn’t allow him to visit that particular area. He checks into a hotel of questionable repute. He hangs out with the Gurkhas who want to claim land for themselves and establish Gurkhaland, but the pink-headed duck is nowhere to be found in the area. 

As the search was fruitless in Sikkim, Nugent decided to check out the other unexplored area on the map he bought in New Delhi. Once again, he subjects himself to government red tape in order to get permission to sail down the Brahmaputra River. As with getting permission to visit Sikkim, Nugent refrains from bribing any officials and his persistence and perseverance pays off. 

Nugent meets a man at a bookstore on his return to New Delhi and cannot believe his good fortune as the man had once attempted to paddle down the Bramhaputra himself. The two join forces and travel down the river from Saikhoa Ghat located in the east of the State of Assam, and paddle all the way down to Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh.  

At the time of Nugent’s journey, there was unrest in Bangladesh. Rioting had occurred in the capital city of Dhaka. Martial law was declared and the borders were closed. The two rivergoers decided to end their journey in Dhubri, the last town in India on the Brahmaputra. 

Did Nugent ever find the pink-head duck? Is it really extinct? Or is it just good at not being found? Whatever the results, Nugent’s narrative in the Himalayas and down the Brahmaputra River will keep readers glued to his exploits and may find themselves rooting for his success. His story is not only exciting, it’s also inspiring as we follow one man’s dream to rediscover a lost avian. In the process, you may find yourself wanting to pursue your own impossible dreams! ~Ernie Hoyt

O Beautiful by Jung Yun (St. Martin’s Press)

“So you’re Elinor Hanson, huh? You must have married a Viking or something, “ a North Dakota farm woman greets the reporter who’s come to interview her. Elinor’s used to this. She grew up in rhis area and has been asked the follow-up question since she was able to talk. “Your father was American and your mother was…?”

North Dakota is white people country, which is why Elinor’s Korean mother left it, deserting her half-white daughters and her white husband. Once she graduated from high school, Elinor did the same thing. She boarded a bus to New York City where her beauty allowed her to be  a model, a woman who’s “looked at for a living.” Now in her forties, still pretty, she’s back in her home state as a freelance journalist, assigned to a story on the changes brought by the Bakken oil fields.

Groggy after her journey from New York, uncertain if she was sexually attacked on the plane while she was knocked out by a sleeping pill, Elinor is unsettled by the unfamiliarity of a town she used to know. 

Her looks have made her accustomed to male attention and she grew up knowing she was an outsider, neither white nor Korean. But now, in Avery, North Dakota, she’s unique because she’s a stunning woman in a town that’s overtly and crudely dominated by men. “I’ve never been in a place where there are so many men. Where I feel completely outnumbered,” she tells her editor during a Facetime meeting. 

When she was a model, the gaze of a male photographer meant a paycheck. Now as she struggles to find work in a different competitive field, male gazes have become an annoyance. In  Avery, they strike her like a bludgeon. Catcalls and lewd gestures greet her when she gets out of her car, a raucous and obscene version of the attention she routinely receives from men in New York. Equally upsetting are the conversations in which racial slurs are casually directed toward anyone who’s not like the typical resident of North Dakota.   

A white town hit by a “diversity bomb” of oil workers, Avery has decided they’re the scapegoats for every problem that’s come with the petroleum industry. When a young white woman disappears, local vigilantes turn to the oil fields and grab two likely suspects, one Black and one Mexican. Nobody seems to know what was done to those men. They’re no longer around and that’s all that matters.

As Elinor spirals into a long series of serious mistakes, she’s caught in a claustrophobic web that’s tinged with horror. The view she loved as a child, the empty land that stopped only when it reached the horizon, is now clogged with drilling rigs and the crews that work on them. The air smells like Vaseline’s petroleum jelly. The women have turned into gleeful sexual trophies, their scarcity giving them an intoxicating illusion of beauty, making them prey. Then there are the American flags hanging upside down in random farmhouse windows, puzzling and shocking signals, but what are they signaling? Who are they calling? “Some people say it’s a distress signal,” a man reluctantly tells Elinor. The flags are placed that way, he says, because of “people who look like you.”

This difficult novel with its mixture of brutality and hope gives a bleak view of what America is and what it has lost. O Beautiful strips privilege from its readers as starkly as it does from Elinor. A graphic examination of misogyny, racism, class divisions, environmental damage, and xenophobia, it offers a form of Rorschach test. How much are we prepared to overlook? How much does it take to make us flinch? As Jung Yun sees it, we’re all being groped in a dive bar--or on a plane--and our beauty isn’t going to save us.~Janet Brown

My Falling Down House by Jayne Joso (Seren Books)

My Falling Down House is Jayne Joso’s third novel and the first one set in Japan. The book won the Great Britain Sasakawa Foundation Award whose aim is to “promote understanding and cooperation between the U.K. and Japan” in a variety of fields, including literature. 

Takeo Tanaka is a young man in his twenties who narrates the entire story. A year ago, he had everything a man could want. He was young and ambitious, and had a good job with a great salary.  He had a beautiful girlfriend he lived with in one of Tokyo’s more upscale neighborhoods. He seemed set for life. 

A year ago when he was out drinking with co-workers, he got so drunk that when he woke up, he found himself in an abandoned and dilapidated house. It seems he had also bought a cello before finding his way to this dwelling. 

It was sometime after his twenty-fifth birthday when a financial crisis occurred. Takeo lost his job, his girlfriend, and his home. For a while Takeo managed to sleep at the office creating a small nest under his desk with just a box and a blanket. His co-worker Shizuko nicknamed him the Box Man. But once he lost his job, he could no longer sleep at the office. 

After becoming jobless and homeless, Takeo decided to seek out the old house where he once spent the night in a drunken stupor. He was drawn to the place. He felt there was “a feel for nature here, a sense of a slow and simple way of living. A forgotten way of living.” He told himself it was only temporary. Once he recovered, he would move on. 

So begins Takeo’s new life of disappearing from society. He isolated himself by taking residence in an old house located on the grounds of a temple. He encounters a cat, finds his cello, and slowly settles into the life of a hermit. His supposed temporary stay extended to one season and then another. 

The longer Takeo stays at the house, he believes he sees or is being haunted by a yokai, a spirit or shapeshifter. As the summer turns to autumn and autumn turns to winter, Takeo seems to drift further and further away from the reality of life. It is becoming harder and harder for Takeo to determine what is real and what is fantasy. He thinks he may be slowly going crazy. In order to keep his sanity, he works on a number of projects just to keep his mind busy but still, he does not know if he is on his way to recovery. 

As Takeo had no room in a home to hide himself away in, he installed himself in a fragile wood and paper house. This phenomenon of hiding oneself away from people and society has become a very big problem in Japan. A new term was given to this phenomenon. It is called hikikomori in Japanese. It translates to “social withdrawal” in English. It can be described as a mild form of depression. 

Takeo’s story can be the story of any salaryman in Japan. Joso makes Takeo out to be an anti-hero. A man you hope will come out of his loneliness and self-pity to become a productive member of society once again. Anybody who has had a setback in life can relate to Takeo, however I believe there is no shame in asking for help. ~Ernie Hoyt

Kuhaku & Other Accounts from Japan edited by Bruce Rutledge (Chin Music Press)

When Bruce Rutledge, after living in Japan for fifteen years, thought briefly of writing essays about his time there, he realized “it’s been done to death...Who needs the views of another lanky Westerner?” Instead he “brought together a group of writers--a mix of Westerners and Japanese--who probably wouldn’t even get along if they were stuck in the same room.” 

The result is a volume that’s outstandingly gorgeous as an object and delightfully eccentric in its multiple points of view. Not your ordinary essay collection,  Kuhaku also contains short stories, paintings, a map that’s a single line of stark black ink and lists the businesses, over a hundred of them, crammed into one street, a satirical advice column, a gallery of canned coffee, each can described in the language of usually used for wine tastings, and an anecdotal glossary that’s illustrated by peyote, an artist whose drawings  resemble a kinder, jollier Ralph Steadman. This book is dizzying.

Kuhaku is defined as “a blank, empty space, a vacuum, a void, a tabula rasa” which means every reader can decide for themselves what the theme of the book might be. The opening essay provides one possibility with an expat’s claim that the even-tempered nature of Japan goes against the soul’s need for upheaval and tempestuousness. That assertion is backed up later by keruru, a newly-coined word defined as a sudden violent act that erupts when a person reaches a breaking point.

An upheaval of sorts is found in every piece that follows. It’s expressed benignly when an American tells of the confusion he causes in public by addressing his dog in Japanese as well as in English. It teeters on a kind of domestic insanity when a woman confesses to turning a bathroom into a storage unit for unclassifiable garbage, rather than facing public humiliation by putting it in the wrong trash bin. A short story by a Japanese writer, portraying a husband who explores the sex trade first-hand while writing a magazine article, is counterpointed throughout the book by translations of interviews with unfaithful wives. Modern-day Dharma Bums come perilously close to burning down a three-hundred-year-old wooden temple and Haruki Murakami explains why young Japanese men engage in “father-hunting,” when they set upon middle-aged salary men and beat them up in the street.

Grim? Oddly enough, not at all. Somehow every upheaval seems as natural as an earthquake, coming unexpectedly and releasing pressure before resulting in a tsunami. The elegance of the book itself--its compact size, its embossed cloth cover, the tiny illustration that ornaments a title page for every piece--makes it  a sensory pleasure, while its glossary gives it a thoroughly unexpected conclusion, a splendid potpourri of stories, descriptions, facts, words of warning, and even a couple of recipes. 

Somehow without ever nailing down a linear description of what it is to live in Japan, Kuhaku gives a vivid, impressionistic sense of how that life would feel. The first book published by Rutledge’s Chin Music Press, it’s set a standard that his small press has continued to nurture: books that find and reveal unexplored territory with skill, care, and beauty.~Janet Brown

Behind the Fire by Steven D. Salinger (Warner)

Steven D. Saligner’s debut novel Behold the Fire is a thriller set in the streets of New York. The murder of a man comes to the attention of NYPD homicide detective and Vietnam vet Mel Fink. However, at the scene of the crime, there was no sign of a struggle, no signs of a break in, and nothing was stolen. 

The victim was Franklin Grelling. He was an employee of Parker Global, a big defense contractor for the Pentagon. The company maintains that Grelling was “a traveling salesman with a fancy title”. Grelling’s partner, Barton believes the murder was related to drugs or to a relationship gone bad. Grelling spots a map of Vietnam on the wall and has a hunch that Barton is dead wrong about why the victim was murdered. 

Clear across the globe, in the jungles of Cambodia is Army Corporal Isaac Johnson, known to everybody as Zach. He is listed as an M.I.A. from the Vietnam War. Johnson was held captive in the Cambodian jungle by the Khmer Rouge for over twenty years. After saving a fellow American and former POW Ev Ransom and illegal arms dealer who works as a broker for Parker Global. 

Ransom agrees to try to return Johnson to his home in the U.S. It is Ransom that sets in motion a roller coaster ride that affects Washington and its relation with Vietnam as Ransom sends the fingerprints of Johnson to an MIA/POW activist senator named Antel Grantham. This is the proof the Senator has been waiting for even though the Pentagon has denied the existence or knowledge of any MIAs. 

To complicate matters even further, Fink has taken a liking to the wife of the first victim and Marissa Grelling seems to have ties to Ev Ransom and Parker Global as well. And the was another murder. The victim is also an employee of Parker Global. The mode of operation was the same as that of Frank Grelling. 

Fink’s continuing investigation leads him to find that the killings were done by a professional. He has also determined that the assassin is Cambodian. The only piece still missing from the puzzle is why the assassin has singled out personnel from Parker Global. What is the connection between Cambodia, the Khmer Rouge, Vietnam and Washington? Does Corporal Isaac Johnson ever get to set foot in his home country again? These are the questions that will keep the reader involved in the story up until its ultimate end.

Salinger’s story is fast-paced and exciting. The character development is great and makes you want to help Fink solve the crimes. His descriptions of New York City and the jungles of Cambodia are detailed and make you feel as if you are in the middle of all the turmoil as well. The action may not be enough for fans of John Rambo but this story doesn’t get preachy about alleged MIAs still being held prisoner in Vietnam or Cambodia. The book will appeal to fans of W.E.B Griffin and other military and detective fiction. ~Ernie Hoyt

The Woman Who Fell from the Sky by Jennifer Steihl (Broadway Paperbacks)

When her old high school sweetheart persuades Jennifer Steihl to spend three weeks in Yemen’s capital city, Sana’a, as a volunteer journalism trainer at an English-language newspaper, she has no idea this will change her life. After all, she’s a fast-talking, flirtatious New York woman who is one of the founders of The Week and has been a senior editor there for the past five and a half years. Her life is successful and established, but when the owner of the Yemen Observer offers her the position of editor-in-chief, making $1500 a month at a newspaper where reporters’ salaries top out at $200, it takes her only a few months to give up her $60,000 a year position in Manhattan.

Steihl has succumbed to Sana’a’s 2500-year-old charm and she’s captivated by the Observer’s reporters, especially the young women who have taken a large step in becoming journalists. Her New York confidence keeps her from being quelled by the city streets that are filled almost exclusively with men, all of them wearing the traditional dagger, the jambiya. She’s done her research and knows that neither the abaya that obscures women’s bodies, nor the hijab that covers their heads, nor the niqab that veils their face is mandated by the government or the Qur’an. It’s a cultural practice, not a religious one, and the women who wear these shrouds usually are clad in jeans and t-shirts beneath the outer covering. The women she meets tell her the coverings are “a statement of identity, an important defense against men, and a source of freedom.”

Out of respect for the culture she’s immersed in, Steihl wears the hijab but forgoes the veil. Like Lawrence of Arabia, her blue eyes immediately brand her as an object of curiosity and the niqab would do nothing to forestall attention, even though it hides her pale skin. Without realizing it, she picks up a larger physical change within a matter of weeks. Her walk is transformed from a New York stride to a gait that prevents her hips from swinging and her face stares at the ground. Facing declarations of love each time she walks outdoors has taught her not to return a man’s gaze and she realizes she’s become “someone else” under unflagging public scrutiny.

Within the newsroom, she’s faced with deeper challenges. Although the men she works with treat her with deference, that, she knows, is because for them she’s not really a woman--she’s the human equivalent of a giraffe. The women reporters long to be recognized as professional journalists yet social restrictions keep them from interviewing men, until Steihl persuades them to work in pairs. The men use their freedom to prolong their daily lunches with bouts of chewing qat, a mild stimulant that’s an ingrained feature of Yemeni culture and is indulged in for a minimum of two hours.Although the reporters have all studied English and speak it with ease, their writing is lengthy, stilted, and subjective. Deadlines are a foreign concept and stories are often intended to bolster the government or enhance the status of advertisers. 

With fleeting episodes of a personal life, Steihl works twelve hours a day, six days a week, not only as the paper’s editor but still working as a trainer, while negotiating unforseen hurdles. Within her first two weeks she’s faced with “kidnappings, stampedes, and suicide bombings.This,” she decides, “is a news junkie’s paradise.” But within this paradise, one reporter refuses to cover a story because it could get him killed. When the Observer reprints three Danish cartoons, each obscured with a black X and placed next to an editorial that condemns them, Steihl’s Yemeni co-editor is briefly imprisoned and is on trial for ten months. The owner of the paper insists that opinion pieces should be placed on the back page because that’s the most important part of the paper. “Arabic is read right to left. So Arabs will naturally turn first to what for you is the back page.” Only by pointing out that the Observer is an English paper does Steihl retain an Op-Ed page in its customary place.

When her contract is up at the end of a year. Steihl is reluctant to leave Yemen. The story of how she is able to remain gives her work-laden life a romantic twist and provides a happy ending to a book that skillfully handles serious matters with a light touch. Jennifer Steihl is far from being Bridget Jones but her book wouldn’t be out of place on a sunny day at the beach.~Janet Brown

The Householder by Ruth Pravwer Jhabvala (Penguin)

The Householder by Ruth Pravwer Jhabvala was first published in 1960. It is the story of Prem, a teacher at a local college. Until recently, Prem was a student at university. His marriage to Indu was arranged by his parents and now he is a “householder” with a wife who is pregnant with their first child. 

Indu’s pregnancy is an embarrassment to Prem as “now everybody would know what he did with her at night in the dark.” Prem’s current salary at the college is 175 rupees a month. His rent is 45 rupees. Aside from becoming a new father, his new worry is the increase in expenses that would occur. What he needs is a better paying job. 

It finally occurs to him to look through the classified ads in the newspaper. However, Prem could not find any jobs he was qualified for. It appeared that nobody wanted a Hindi teacher, “or if they did, they wanted him to be a first-class M.A. with three years’ teaching experience, not a second-class B.A. with only four months’ teaching experience, such as he was.” His only option was to ask his boss for a raise. 

Asking his boss for a raise is not something he would like to do but he took his father’s advice to heart. His father had told him, “Put all your strength into the things you don’t like to do.” Prem tries to find the courage to talk to his boss but instead of coming straight to the point, he talks about his colleague, Sohan Lal. The more he talks about his colleague, his boss comes to the conclusion that Sohan Lal had sent Prem to ask for a raise in salary.

Prem is also having trouble at home with his wife who says she is going to her parents, due to her condition. At the same time, Prem has received a letter from his mother who says she will be coming to help her only son to prepare for the child’s birth. Prem is having a hard time establishing his authority as the head of the household and seems to have crossed an invisible line when he tells his wife that he forbids her to go home. 

As much as you like to support Prem, he sometimes comes off as being a Charlie Brown-like character. He has a very wishy-washy personality and doesn’t assert himself. He’s taken advantage of by his only friend in New Delhi who he grew up with. There are times when you may want to smack him and say, “Grow up!”, which is what he is trying his best to do. Still, the humor in Jhabvala’s writing makes you forgive Prem his wishy-washyness.

Jhabvala’s story has the universal theme of what it is to become an adult and all the responsibilities that come with adulthood. It is filled with humor and drama  and readers of all ages may identify with Prem as he goes from being a student to getting married and then becoming a father. Family ties can also be a very delicate matter as one tries to find a fine balance in pleasing your partner and keeping other relatives happy. 

Prem is no different from any of us who have dreams of making more money and living a comfortable life. However, being rich and famous doesn’t doesn’t guarantee comfort or happiness. One must do their best with what life has to offer them. ~Ernie Hoyt

A Border Passage by Leila Ahmed (Penguin)

“You’re an Arab! An Arab! And you don’t know your own language,” a teacher screamed at Leila Ahmed when she was twelve. “I am not an Arab,” she replied with equal fury, “I am Egyptian! And anyway we don’t speak like this!” 

In 1952, the Egyptian Revolution that stripped the country of British colonialism brought with it shouts of “Arab nationalism! We the Arabs!” But Ahmed, born in 1940,  is already shaped by the final days of the British Empire that had vouchsafed only partial independence to Egypt. She and her siblings have grown up speaking French and Egyptian Arabic but English is their preferred language. That’s what they speak at school and when they’re with their friends. Their father is a man with a “colonized consciousness” who had gone to university in Birmingham, “cherishing things European and undervaluing the very heritage that had shaped him.” He teaches his children to love Western classical music and to place it above the Arabic music that their mother, who is staunchly and thoroughly Egyptian, sings. Ahmed and her siblings begin to see Arabic as inferior, although it’s the language they use when they talk with their mother. This, Ahmed admits, “in some way marked her too, in some way silently, silently in my child’s mind, as inferior.” She realizes much later that this is one of “the hidden, uncounted costs of colonialism” that her mother pays, as her children speak a language she doesn’t understand and go away from her to be educated, and to make their lives, in distant countries. 

Ahmed’s mother lives in a world of women, talking, drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes with her sisters and her friends. She teaches her children that the core of Islam is to hurt no one, to harm oneself before injuring someone else. “He who kills one being kills all of humanity, and he who revives, or gives life to, one being revives all of humanity.” She, and the women around her, have distilled their own “essence of Islam,” separate from the stern, fierce “orthodox interpretation” that’s the male version. They live in houses surrounded by gardens that are rich with trees and flowers, wrapped in desert silence, light, and shadow, a world of beauty. It’s one that Ahmed learns to disregard as “women’s culture,” gentle, generous, and powerless, in which “women bowed their heads and acquiesced” to the men “who did things.” “The only escape from this,” she tells herself, “ would be for me to become either a man or a Westerner.”

Ahmed grows up immersed in politics, living through a bloodless revolution that turned into a dictatorship and then through a war that prompted Ahmed’s British and Jewish friends to leave Cairo. Her father falls out favor with the government and Ahmed is long denied permission to leave Cairo for England, where she has been accepted at Cambridge. When she goes there at last, she has the label of “Arab” thrust upon her by English society and begins “puzzling out what it means to be Arab.” 

“In Egypt,” she says, “I’d be just another Egyptian, whereas in the West it’s impossible for me to escape, forget this false constructed Arabness.” In a country whose colonization of her own has made her English in language and thought, Ahmed takes on an imposed identity that is foreign to her. Yet while she learns about being Arab, she sees more clearly what it is to be an Egyptian from Cairo, a city where, throughout its history “Islam, Christianity, Judaism, Morocco, Istanbul, Alexandria” were all blended into “its own unique Cairo brew.”

Discovering the beauty of Arab literature, written in a literary language that no one speaks, Ahmed recognizes the richness of oral culture, expressed in the “mother tongue” spoken by the women whom she once dismissed. Her journey is farther than from Cairo to an academic American life. Her struggle to achieve a wider knowledge of who she is and where she came from is long and painful, told through a memoir steeped in rigorous intellect that opens new worlds of thought to its readers. ~Janet Brown

Breasts and Eggs by Mieko Kawakami (Picador)

Mieko Kawakami’s novel Breasts and Eggs was originally published in the Japanese language as 夏物語 (Natsu Monogatari) in 2019 as a novella. The Japanese title translates to Summer Story. She then expanded the story into a full length novel and is her first book to be published in English. It was translated by Sam Bet and David Boyd. The book is divided into two parts. The first part is the original novella. The latter half of the book takes place ten years later and follows the lives of three women.

In the first half of the book we are introduced to the main characters - a thirty-year old woman named Natsuko, her older sister Makiko, and Makiko’s 12-year-old daughter Midoriko. Natsuko moved from Shobashi in the Kansai area to Tokyo ten years ago to pursue a career as a writer. She works at a minimum-wage job, her blog gets only one or two hits a day, and she still hasn’t had anything published in print. 

Makiko works as a hostess and is really concerned with her appearance and sex-appeal to her male customers. Makiko has become obsessed with the size and shape of her breast and has come to Tokyo to find a clinic that will perform breast augmentation surgery. In simple terms, she wants bigger boobs. As Natsuko describes them when they went to the public bathhouse together, “Her breasts themselves were little more than a couple of mosquito bites, but her nipples were like two control knobs stuck onto her chest. 

Makiko is accompanied by her 12-year-old daughter although the two are currently not on speaking terms. Midoriko has taken to communicating by writing everything down. She keeps two notebooks. One to “talk” to people with and the other to write down her most private thoughts. Midoriko cannot understand her mother’s obsession with getting breast implants and writes about it in her private notebooki. She also writes about the changes in her body as well and wonders “Why does it have to be like this”.

We then fast forward ten years into the future. Natsuko is now a published writer and her editor is encouraging her to complete her first novel. Her older sister Makiko is still working as a hostess in a less than elegant bar and Midoriko is now a college student with a boyfriend of her own. 

Now that Natsuko has turned forty, she has been giving considerable thought to having a child of her own. However, she doesn’t have a steady boyfriend and there are no other prospects to be a potential father figure. She once had a boyfriend when she was in her twenties but they broke up because she could not have sex. It was too painful and the thought of someone or something penetrating her made her incapable of enjoying the act. 

Adoption is out of the question as Japanese law doesn’t allow for single mothers to become parents. She investigates artificial insemination but finds that this is also not allowed in Japan for single women. Her only other option is to go to a sperm bank in a foreign country or to make an illegal arrangement with a willing donor. 

Natsuko meets two people who were the product of sperm donors. The first person she meets is Aizawa who is suffering from an identity crisis and longs to know who his biological father is. Through Aizawa, she meets Yuriko who was abused by her stepfather and she believes bringing a new child into the world is irresponsible and is “an act of violence”. Natsuko finds herself in a conundrum. Is it right for her to become a mother, raising a child who may never know their father. Is it a selfish act to want motherhood? How will the child feel when they grow older and learn the truth of their origin? 

The story is thought provoking and disturbing at times but it is well written and if you’re a woman, I imagine that you cannot help but ponder the same questions that goes through Natsuko’s mind about having a child or Makiko’s obsession with beauty and self-image or Midoriko’s confusion about the changes in her body. These three women share their feelings of what it is to be a woman. These women defy the conservatism of a male-dominated world and it may be time for men to wake up and see the light. ~Ernie Hoyt

Married to Bhutan by Linda Leaming (Hay House)

When Linda Leaming told people that she was leaving the states to live in another country. a common response was “Butane? Where’s that?” Oh,” she began to tell people,” It’s near Africa. It’s where all the disposable lighters come from.”

A tiny, mountainous country that shares its borders with Nepal, Bangladesh, China, and India, Bhutan has an agrarian, cohesive population that would fill a medium-sized U.S city. Historically isolated by its geography that holds only five habitable valleys and its weather, that often makes any sort of invasion problematic, including aircraft landings, it’s a country that has developed on its own terms. Currency replaced the barter system in the 1960s, both the Georgian and the lunar calendars are observed, and time is cyclical, not linear, based upon the seasons and the belief in reincarnation. Its king voluntarily abdicated in 2006 to make room for a democratic form of government and espouses a system that prioritizes Gross National Happiness, rather than Gross National Product. It has never been colonized, with astute monarchs that made Bhutan one of the few winners in Britain’s South Asian Great Game.

Leaming fell in love with the place in 1994, when she was one of the scant number of tourists to visit it. After two weeks in Bhutan, this 39-year-old American, whose daily life was removed from it by twelve time zones, was captivated. After two more journeys that cemented her feelings, she found a job teaching English and moved there in 1997. It’s been her home ever since.

Candid about her initial difficulties with culture, language, and manners, which she describes as a time of facing “minefields, so many opportunities to make an ass of yourself,” Leaming is too busy learning what she needs to know to indulge herself in the usual expat self-pity. Dzongha, the national language of Bhutan, is her primary preoccupation in which she’s frustrated by her teacher’s insistence that reading and writing come before speaking. Her oral language learning is a clandestine activity, aided by a phrasebook that gives her crucial tools to use at work, in the market, and at a doctor’s office. Unfortunately she’s enchanted by phrases that she’ll never have reason to use, which stick with her and emerge at inappropriate moments. The day she thinks she’s asking a physician a routine pleasantry and discovers his shock when it comes from her mouth as “Take off your clothes and lie down,” ought to be quelling but probably was not. Leaming is too eager to assimilate for chagrin to stand in her way.

Her language acquisition becomes total immersion when she falls in love with another teacher, a painter of thanka, works of religious art that are highly prized in Bhutan. He’s a man from a highly traditional family who lives in a large apartment within his sister’s home and when he and Leaming decide to marry, he’s reluctant to take his bride away from the hot water heater of her Bhutanese home to a small town.

But Leaming is aware that when she marries this man, she’s also marrying his country and insists the two of them live in her husband’s home. Here she discovers that her domestic skills are decidedly below par and relearns how to sweep, wash clothes, cook, and sew. In a town where almost everything is made locally, with a husband who wore deerskin moccasins made by his father and clothes woven by his mother, Leaming feels that she’s married to “the Last of the Mohicans.”

Her personal anecdotes are quite funny and rather sparse. Leaming’s focus is on the country that has let her become a resident as much as on how it has changed her. Buddhism is integral to every part of Bhutanese life, a daily practice rather than beliefs espoused on Sunday. From the obscene, scatalogical 15th-Century monk whose used underparts are still enshrined near her house to the elaborate, medieval process of her husband’s thanka art, Leaming’s life is pervaded with a system that gradually becomes part of her. So does the beauty of her surroundings which she loves best during the severe cold of winter and the barriers against rapid progress that geography and weather still forestall. She learns to savor the slow pace of her life, in which buying stationery involves going to a spot where handmade envelopes are constructed as she waits, finding sealing wax in an over-stuffed shop with a patient shopkeeper, and falling prey to the seduction of Bhutan’s gorgeous postage stamps.  

Bhutan is under threats, Leaming describes in her final essay. Surrounded by a “geopolitical equivalent to a trailer park,” with its squabbling tribes, avaricious leaders, and drug problems, it works hard to avoid the fate of the former kingdom of Sikkim which is now an Indian state. Climate change is melting its glaciers and flooding is a constant danger. Conversely there’s a shortage of water that may destroy the country’s agriculture. And. as is true all over the world, globalization is closing in through the inexorable incursions of the internet. 

“The world needs Bhutan,” Leaming concludes. Certainly she herself needed it. As a Bhutanese friend told her early on, “You are the arrow that hit its mark.” Her lovely little book poses an irresistible question: how many of us are still arrows in search of our own marks?~Janet Brown

American Shaolin by Matthew Polly (Gotham Books)

Matthew Polly’s biographical novel American Shaolin has the long and amusing subtitle of Flying Kicks, Buddhist Monks, and the Legend of the Iron Crotch : An Odyssey in the New China. It is the story of an American man who drops out of a prestigious college and goes on a journey to learn the art of kung-fu from the Shaolin Temple in China.

Matthew Polly grew up in Topeka, Kansas. He was the epitome of the 98-lbs weakling who was tormented by bullies at his school and while many people have an inner voice telling what they ought to do, Polly was fifteen and had an inner “to-do list”. When he was fifteen, there were five main points on his list of “THINGS THAT ARE WRONG WITH MATT”. 

Topping the list was “ignorant”, followed by “cowardly”, “stil a boy / not a man”, “unattractive to the opposite sex”, and “spiritually confused”. In dealing with his ignorance, he once picked up the New York Review of Books but even with a dictionary in hand, he couldn’t understand it. This inspired him to study and read more and his efforts led him to being accepted at Princeton University and was doing quite well, so he felt he could cross off being ignorant from his list of THINGS THAT ARE WRONG WITH MATT.

However, number one on his list was being cowardly. Polly started learning kung-fu when he was in the ninth grade after seeing a rerun of David Carradine’s television series Kung-fu. He was inspired by Carradine’s character - “the half-Asian Shaolin martial monk who wandered the Old West righting wrongs” and “seemed to be as strange and helpless and yet was a total badass.”

Polly’s obsession with kung-fu led to his interest in China and Chinese culture. He took courses in learning the language as well. As Polly was busy with his studies, he didn’t have time to practice his kung-fu which he had been studying for three years. He felt even after three years, he would not be able to defend himself adequately. That’s when he came across Mark Salzman’s memoir Iron and Silk, a story about a Yale graduate who studies with a martial arts master in China. This sets his plan in motion.

In 1992, Polly left Princeton and using the money from his college which his father had set up for him, went to China in pursuit of dreams to learn martial arts from the birthplace of kung-fu - at the Shaolin Temple. It did not matter to him that he did not even know where the temple was located. 

So begins Polly’s real adventure as he first goes to Beijing, then travels north to the Shaolin Temple and learns that there are numerous forms of kung-fu and that foreigners are only allowed to study at one of the state-sponsored schools. He manages to find a school that accepts him and for the next two years training and studying and learning that there are different types of “iron kung-fu” in which “a part of the body (such as the head, neck, stomach, or, most frightening of all, the crotch) is made impervious to pain.”

This book is a must read for any fans of old Jackie Chan movies where the harsh training seems to be exaggerated, only it’s not as Polly can well attest to. The story is an inspiration to anyone who has a dream and to see that dream fulfilled. ~Ernie Hoyt

Ayo Gorkhali by Tim I. Gurung (Blacksmith Books)

There is no such word as Gurkha in Nepal. A corruption of Ghorka, coined by the British, it would never have come into existence were it not for England’s Great Game and the British East India Company’s desire to control trade routes into Tibet. The barrier to this goal was the Gorkhali Army of the powerful kingdom of Gorkha, a state that had conquered Sikkim, ruled over much of what is now Nepal, and controlled almost all of India’s northern regions.  

In the first battle between these two forces, 2,400 British soldiers were defeated by 1,400 Gorkhas. Over half of the British troops were killed by soldiers crying “Ayo Gorkhali” (“The Gorkhas are upon you!”), and brandishing their fearsome knives, the khukuri, (corrupted into kukri), with the aid of villagers who came armed with bows and arrows, nettles, and active hornet nests.  It took almost fifty years and an army of 50,000 for the British to finally defeat 14,000 Ghorka soldiers. 

Being no fools, the British Army was eager to bring fighters of this caliber into its ranks, “which took the sting out of the Gorkhali Army and made Nepal “a toothless tiger.” From that time on, “the youth and able men” of that country were served up to Great Britain, depleting the power of Nepal on many levels. 

From the Sepoy Mutiny up through both World Wars and beyond, the Gorkhali became the legendary Gurkhas, brave, fierce, and, to the British, expendable. They led the other soldiers into battle, after being given lashings of rum by their commanders to boost their courage, and, with their kukris, were the ones sent to “clear the ground at the end” in hand-to-hand combat. Many among what was popularly known as the “Gurkha Legion” received Victoria Crosses for bravery, but when they were forced to retire at the age of 35, they were sent back to Nepal without military pensions, regardless of the injuries and honors they carried with them. 

“Each little Gurk might be worth his weight in gold,” General Ian Hamilton said during World War One, but his assessment wasn’t reflected in the way the Gurkhas were paid. Even in the 1960s, when the Gurkhas were stationed in Hong Kong, they received $42 dollars a month compared to the $450 paid to their British counterparts. They were cheap, dispensable, and handicapped by the virtues instilled in them by their culture. The Gurkhas were taught from birth that honor, respect, and loyalty were essential; their motto was “Better to die than be a coward.” And die they did. Over 60,000 Gurkhas were killed, wounded, or listed among the missing in action during the two World Wars.

The ones who were wounded placed a terrible burden upon the country of Nepal, both on social and economic grounds. Men who had been given two choices in life, to farm or to fight, came back to the farms broken by war. Gone by the age of 18, back at 35, generations of Gorkhali men became burdens, uncompensated in any way by the country that had exploited them.

It wasn’t until 1969 that private funds established the Gurkha Welfare Trust “to alleviate poverty and distress among Gurkha veterans and their families,” 154 years after the Gurkhas had been made part of the British Army. And only in 2009 did Great Britain allow the Gurkhas “right of abode.” Slowly and grudgingly the “debt of honor” owed to the Gurkhas is being repaid to a people who were “betrayed by their destiny.”

A former Gurkha himself, Gorkhali Tim Gurung presents an almost dauntingly detailed military history, a full and truthful picture that rewards persistent readers, leaving them to echo  his last words on the subject, “Jai Gurkhas!”~Janet Brown

Shanghai Baby by Wei Hui (Pocket Books)

Wei Hui’s novel Shanghai Baby was first published in China in 1999 and was subsequently banned by the Chinese government for being too decadent. The English language edition, translated by Bruce Humes, was published in 2001 and received a lot of positive reviews. 

It is the semi-autobiographical story of the author. The main character is a twenty-five year Shanhainese woman named Nikki. Her friends call her Coco, after Coco Chanel, who she considers to be her idol, after Henry Miller. Nikki had found a bit of success after publishing a book of short stories titled The Shriek of the Butterflies. She has recently quit her job as a magazine journalist and now thinks of herself as a “bare-legged, miniskirted waitress at a joint  called the Green Stalk Cafe.”  She is also trying to write her first novel.

She meets Tian Tian at the cafe and the two start a serious relationship. Nikki soon leaves her parents home to live with Tian Tian, who is an extremely shy but very talented artist. He was raised by his grandmother after his father died, while his mother married a foreigner and moved to Spain. Tian Tian no longer speaks to his mother as he still believes she and her Spanish husband were responsible for the death of his father. His hatred of his mother and other problems makes him impotent so he cannot have normal sexual relations with his girlfriend. 

Nikki is a young woman who loves Tian Tian but desires to be fulfilled sexually as well. When she meets a tall and handsome foreigner from Germany, she has an affair with him, knowing that he has a wife and children. While Mark, the foreigner, who knows Nikki lives with her boyfriend, only seems to want her to satisfy his carnal pleasures.

Although Nikki keeps her affair secret from Tian Tian, he realizes something is wrong and decides to leave for the south of China for an extended time. This leads to his drug use as he becomes further and further removed from life’s reality. Nikki goes to see Tian Tian to bring him back to Shanghai to go to a detox center but she continues to see Mark as well. She feels guilty but feels no remorse when having sex with Mark.

The supporting characters who are Nikki’s friends and acquaintances are as shallow and selfish as Nikki. The reader may find it hard to empathize with any of the characters as they all seem to be two-dimensional beings, thinking only of themselves and their happiness. 

Although the story is well-written and fast-paced and keeps you interested to see how things turn out, I found the main character to be selfish, self-absorbed and a bit narcissistic as well. It was difficult to relate to the problems NIkki and her friends mostly bring on themselves. They don’t seem to know who they are or what they want out of life. Fortunately, this is just a fictitious account of contemporary Shanghai but If this is the new generation of hipsters in China, I fear for their country. ~Ernie Hoyt

The Ginger Tree by Oswald Wynd (Perennial Classics, HarperCollins, Publishers)

“I have heard that people change east of Suez and that could be what is happening to me,” Mary MacKenzie writes in a notebook days after turning twenty-one. The sheltered daughter of a severe Presbyterian mother, she is on a voyage to China, in 1903, en route to marry a young diplomat whom she barely knows. As she travels further from Scotland, she’s startled to find she’s developed a taste for curry and has stopped wearing her corset. “It’s almost frightening,” she tells herself, “that you can travel on a ship and feel yourself changing,” an observation she knows she can never write to her mother.

By the time she reaches her fiancé in Beijing, Mary has discovered her own mind and isn’t reluctant to speak it—or write it in a series of private notebooks. Bored by her handsome husband and her new baby, within a year of her arrival she embarks upon an affair with a Japanese military officer, becomes pregnant with his child, and is banished from her house, her husband, and her daughter. Under the intricate and omniscient protection of her aristocratic lover, Mary is taken to Tokyo and placed in a comfortable house of her own, where she gives birth to a son.

An event that is still shocking even in this century separates Mary from her baby and his father but she’s determined to remain in Japan with hopes that she may someday see her son again. For the next thirty-six years, she manages to make a life for herself in Tokyo, through years of sweeping social transformation and several wars. On the periphery of her life is the man who brought her to his country, with whom she has a bond that goes beyond the physical. He is the only person who may someday reunite her with her lost son.

This would be an ordinary historical romance, were it not for the history told through the lively voice of Mary’s candid letters and journals. Oswald Wynd gives intimate descriptions to life in Tokyo that indicate a deep knowledge and experience of that subject. The Ginger Tree takes on a surprising depth of detail as soon as Mary arrives in Japan. From her “pretty little house” which is “really not a house at all but a flimsy box around a game played to quite simple rules,” to the varying degrees of comfort ranging from no chairs to the recent invention of electric lights imported by German interests, Mary’s new life is made up of hundreds of curiosities. She’s  wakened at night by the sound of the night watchman’s wooden clappers and his cries that all is well and learns to appreciate eight-hour performances of Kabuki in which an actor prepares to disembowel himself while members of the audience hiccup from too much rice wine. She shops in the Ginza where rich women buy European imports in a four-storey department store and becomes friends with a Japanese Baroness who was imprisoned for staring at the Emperor Meiji. She describes the night sky brightened to blood-red by neighborhood fires that can destroy six thousand houses in one night and recreates the sounds that punctuate her domestic life, “the hootings of small steamers and tugboats,” “the great bronze bell at the Hongwanji temple,” the mournful music played on a neighbor’s samisen. She gives a startling first-person account of the beauty and terror of a tsunami and a detailed look at the Emperor Meiji’s funeral procession. 

At a certain point, the question of how did Wynd know so much about his character’s Japanese life demands an answer, one that is as compelling as the novel he has written. Born in Tokyo to Scottish missionary parents in 1913, Wynd was given Japanese citizenship at birth. Japan was his home until he was in his teens (when his parents moved him to Atlantic City where he went to high school—a kind of culture shock that’s unimaginable) and he spoke fluent and faultless Japanese. 

After moving back to Scotland just in time for the start of the Second World War, Wynd became part of the British Army’s Intelligence Corps, no doubt because of his command of Japanese. He was captured by Japanese troops and under interrogation by their secret police, admitted his dual nationality. For what was perceived as a betrayal of his birthplace, he was threatened with execution but instead served as an interpreter while imprisoned in Hokkaido. Here “he was baffled by the Japanese treatment of prisoners,” the Independent reports with true British understatement. When he was released at the end of the war, he swore never to return to Japan nor to “recognize his erstwhile ‘fellow countrymen’ in civilian life.”

Using the pen name of Gavin Black, Wynd wrote fifteen thrillers and seven novels under his own name. Two of them were about women in Japan—The Ginger Tree with its remarkably feminine point of view and his first novel, The Black Fountains, which tells the story of a young Japanese girl who returns to Japan after being educated in the U.S., just before the outbreak of World War II, an opposite mirror image of Wynd’s own experience.

He died in Scotland at the age of 85, with twenty-three years of his life spent in Asia and three and a half of those within a prison camp. It’s extraordinary that his bitterness and anger toward his birthplace only surface at the very end of The Ginger Tree, when Mary, facing repatriation at the beginning of World War II says she will only return to Japan “when Tokyo and Yokohama lie in ruins.” Even then Wynd’s attachment to Japan and the Japanese is made stunningly clear in his concluding paragraph, which is a masterpiece of subtlety and heartbreak.~Janet Brown

The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa (Vintage Books)

The Memory Police is a science fiction story written by Yoko Ogawa, author of The Housekeeper and the Professor and The Diving Pool. It was originally published as 密やかな結晶 (Hisoyaka na Kessho) in Japanese in 1994 and was first published in English in 2019 and was translated by Stephen Snyder.

Set on an unnamed island, everyday items are slowly disappearing. The story opens with the narrator who “wonders what was disappeared first”. Her mother had told her there were many things in the past, before her daughter was born. “Wonderful things you can’t possibly imagine.”

Her mother kept some of these things in a secret drawer and would encourage her daughter to open one and would tell her about the different objects she held in her hands. One day it may be a kind of fabric called a “ribbon” that people used to tie up their hair. This object “was disappeared” from the island when her mother was seven. Another was called a “bell” that if you shook would make a lovely sound. “Stamps” had also “been disappeared” from the island. Her mother explained it was something you used to send a letter to someone. 

No one knows why these things disappeared and everyone accepted it as a part of life on the island. People will wake up the next day and know that something has changed but with the disappearance of any items, the memory of the items disappears from the people’s thoughts as well. However, there were some people who didn’t forget. Some families tried to run away. 

The Inuis were the narrator’s neighbors. They came to the house late at night as they wanted to escape the Memory Police. They were also friends with the narrator’s mother. To repay the kindness of letting them stay one night at the house, the Inuis gave back three sculptures that the narrator’s mother had gifted to them many years ago. 

The narrator’s parents both died and she had been living alone in their house for the past two years. She works as a novelist and her only friends include her editor R and an old man who lives on an abandoned ferry who was a family friend. Life continued as normally as possible with the exceptions of more and more things disappearing. 

It is the job of The Memory Police to enforce the disappearances of objects and who also sought out people whose memories survived. Nobody knows what became of them but they were never to be seen in town again. The narrator began to worry about what would happen if words or books were to disappear. 

The narrator learned that her editor, “R” was one of those people who did not lose their memories. She decided she wanted to help hide him from the Memory Police. With the help of the old man, they built a secret room inside the house. The narrator told her editor that he would have to leave everything behind and leave without notice so the Memory Police wouldn’t suspect a thing. 

Things continued to disappear but most of the people were so used to the losses that they didn’t give a thought to the things that were gone. Then an earthquake struck. In the disaster the narrator’s mother’s sculptures were broken and she noticed there was something hidden inside. She showed them to her editor who told her that they were things “that were disappeared” long ago - a ferry ticket, a harmonica, and some candy called ramune. 

As the narrator predicted, books “were disappeared” but her editor encouraged her to continue writing and to hold on to the things her mother kept hidden, always telling her that he believes “they have the power to change you, to alter your hearts and minds. The slightest sensation can have an effect, can help you remember. These things will restore your memory.”

But will it affect the narrator? Will more things disappear. What will happen to the Memory Police when there is nothing left to remember? This is a most unusual story and is very reminiscent of George Orwell’s 1984 and Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 but Ogawa writes with a voice of her own. What would you do to preserve your memories? ~Ernie Hoyt

Drawing on the Inside: Kowloon Walled City 1985 by Fiona Hawthorne (Blacksmith Books)

Fiona Hawthorne came to Hong Kong in the 70s when she was six. For the next eight years of her life, she roamed through the city with a freedom that finally alarmed her parents. Exploring Kowloon’s street markets was one thing but drinking San Miguel in Wanchai’s bars and coming home late at night in a taxi wasn’t the sort of adventure they wanted their daughter to have at fourteen. They took their family back to Ireland but it was too late. Fiona had Hong Kong in her blood and at twenty-two, she came back as a young artist.

Now she had the ability to satisfy a longing that had gone denied when she was a free-ranging girl. On childhood visits to her favorite market, the one so close to the Kai Tak airport that jets screamed above the heads of shoppers, almost parting their hair, she had seen a spot nearby that was forbidden territory. Naturally that appealed to Fiona.

The Kowloon Walled City had been a separate entity since the days of the British takeover. Initially left out of the original treaty that claimed Hong Kong, when it was included in the following year, it continued to exist on its own terms, under its own rules. In the 70s, it was flooded with mainland Chinese who spawned an explosion of cheap housing blocks, built without inside plumbing or elevators. Rumors that the place was run by triads and was riddled with crime made it a “no-go” area for the rest of Hong Kong. To Fiona, this community of 60,000, supported by mom and pop industries, was irresistible, “a patchwork of chaos with a strange and compelling beauty.” She was determined to go inside but she needed an introduction that would serve as her passport.

One of her old classmates had a friend who worked with drug addicts within the Walled City, a woman who approved of Fiona’s plan to explore and paint the life and surroundings of this private world. Accompanied by a former addict, Fiona spent three months there, carrying her watercolors, stacks of cheap cardboard that ordinarily formed a base for mahjong tiles, and two heavy cameras for photos and videos. The residents of the Walled City spoke Mandarin, which Fiona hadn’t mastered, but in a mixture of Cantonese and English, she managed to communicate with the people she met.  As she sketched and painted, she openly showed her work to her subjects and they encouraged her to continue. She was accepted.

Fiona was immediately frustrated by the “image of notoriety” that stigmatized the Walled City. What she found there was a place filled with hardworking people who spent their days making food, plastic flowers, shoes, clothing, in small dark spaces. She painted the dark, impenetrable wall of buildings that characterized the City, but she also showed the shafts of light that passed through the slivers of space between them and brightened a wealth of color within. Flowers bloomed on caged-in balconies and vegetable gardens flourished in vacant bits of ground. 

Her art reveal no traces of menace. Watercolor portraits show faces turned toward her in trust and her quick sketches capture moments of deep tenderness. A young couple gaze at each other, lost in love. A man and woman sit with their infant, pouring all of their attention upon the baby. Within the dark and narrow alleyways between buildings, children play and adults sit together, chatting. Fiona’s drawings, paintings, and photos show a community that’s strikingly similar to ones that still exist in Kowloon, its streets filled with traffic and pedestrians, a forest of signs looming above them; small crowded spaces where workers take a break to eat together, sharing dishes made by a shirtless man who cooks over open flames; false teeth arranged in a macabre shop window display.

When Fiona steps away from this bustling world to show its exterior, it’s a view that can easily bring on a feeling of seasickness. The buildings are jammed together, tilting against each other for support, teetering as if they’re drunk. At night, they take on a comforting look, with hundreds of windows beaming light into the darkness, each one a spot of domestic privacy.

Fiona herself appears only twice. On the book’s unjacketed cover, she shoots a video, youthful, slender, and intent upon what she’s recording. At the end of the book there she is again shrouded in darkness, her face hidden behind her massive camera and her mane of hair blazing in an errant beam of light. Less than ten years afterward, the Walled City was demolished, its space transformed into a city park. “I had no idea that I was recording a place that would someday be gone,” she says, but through her eyes and her art, that community is truthfully and skillfully memorialized.~Janet Brown

Secret Daughter by Shilpi Somaya Gowda (Harper)

Canadian author Shilpi Somaya Gowda’s debut novel Secret Daughter is the story of two women who live worlds apart but have an unseen bond that will affect both of their lives. 

Somer has everything she could want in life - a good marriage, a nice and caring husband who is also a doctor. His name is Krishnan and he is originally from India. She also has a great career as a physician in San Francisco. However, the only thing that eludes her is the ability to bear any children of her own. 

In the same year, across the globe, in a rural town in India, Kavita gave birth to her second daughter. Her first one was taken soon after it was born and was never seen or heard from again. Kavita refuses to give up her second child without a fight and in order to save her life, she makes the decision to give her up for adoption.

Asha is an Indian child adopted from an orphanage in Mumbai. It is this girl that connects the two women who do not have anything in common. We follow the lives of both families over a span of more than twenty years. It is Asha’s search for her own identity that leads her to India to find a part of herself that she feels has been missing. 

One of Somer’s wishes is to be a mother. She’s had one previous miscarriage so she knows the symptoms. Her husband has taken her to the hospital and she has woken up to see an IV stand next to her bed. The next thing she hears is a doctor telling her “she’s clean”. This upsets her more than the doctors, nurses, or her husband can imagine. She feels “they just see her as a patient to be doctored, a piece of human equipment to be repaired. Just another body to be cleaned up.”

In a small town called Dahanu in India, Kavita feels as strongly about saving her daughter. She knows her husband and his family are all disappointed in her giving birth to another girl. The first one was taken away quickly so Kavita vowed that the same fate would not await her second child. With the help of her sister and a vast amount of courage, she and her sister walk from Dahanu to an orphanage in Bombay. Kavita names her daughter Usha. “Usha is Kavita’s choice alone. A secret name for her secret daughter.”

As we follow the lives of both families, we see Asha growing up and the older she gets, the more curious she becomes about her biological parents. This issue puts a strain on the relationship between her and her mother. They drift even further apart when Asha wins a scholarship and tells her mother she will be staying in India for a year to work on a project about children living in poverty. Her daughter’s decision not only affects their relationship but it also affects Somer’s relationship with her husband. 

I imagine many adoptees go through a crisis of identity at one time or another. Especially if they have been adopted from a third world country and brought up in the U.S., Australia, or the U.K. They grow up to find that they look nothing like their parents and begin to question who they are and where they are really from. However, most people do not give thought to the adoptee’s parents and how the children’s actions will affect them as well. In this emotional roller-coaster of a story, one learns about the power of love and the true meaning of family. ~Ernie Hoyt

Clash of Honour by Robert Mendelsohn (Prion)

Clash of Honour is Robert Mendelsohn’s debut novel and was first published in 1989. The story will take you to Thailand, Singapore, Burma, Spain and Japan. It centers on the theme honor, deceit, betrayal, loyalty and obligation. It is mostly a story of revenge and how far a person will go to achieve their aims without giving thought to the consequences of their actions.

The story opens in Bangkok, Thailand in December of 1975. A young English woman, the daughter of a British soldier and a Spanish mother, has come to the country and is heading Bang Saray, the place where her father died. 

Anna Bellingham is the daughter of Lt. Derek Pritchard, a soldier who was captured by the Japanese Imperial Army after the fall of Singapore. She is determined to find a man named Yoshiro Katsumata in the hopes of leading her to his father, Lt. Keichi Katsumata,the man she believes was responsible for her father’s death.

Yoshiro Katsumata is a businessman climbing his way to the top of Sato Kaisha where he works. He may become the first outsider to head the family-owned company. He has no idea that a foreign woman would come looking for him to seek revenge for her father.

After the fall of Singapore in 1942, Lt. Derek Pritchard and an Englishman colonel, Dr. James Hedges became Prisoners of War. However, they were not sent to a P.O.W. camp. The two soldiers became a pawn in a secret mission for the Japanese government. 

As the story progresses, the reader begins to question what really happened between Pritchard, Hedges, and Katsumata. Of the three, it is only Pritchard who died in the war. Anna and Yoshiro are told the stories of their fathers by surviving members of the ordeal. 

Hedges was friends with the Pritchard family. As he was present in Bang Saray, Pritchard’s wife insisted on knowing the circumstances of her husband’s death. Listening to the evils committed upon the one she loves, she instills in her daughter the venom and hate against the Japanese and especially against Lt. Keichi Katsumata.

Yoshiro hears the story of his father from his father’s commanding officer. It is after Anna meets him and is seduced by her that he finds out the truth about her. He feels obligated to ask Pritchard’s family for forgiveness and believes it is his duty as a Japanese son to bear the responsibility of his father to retain the honor of the family name.

It isn’t until the very end where the reader learns the truth surrounding Lt. Derek Pritchard’s death and the motives of those involved. In this story the sins of the father do fall on the son but not all is as it seems. 

In this day and age, having the son bear responsibility for the sins of the father seems to be an outdated idea or at least one where the Bible is misinterpreted as it states, “The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father.” 

Japan also has a feudal tradition called katakiuchi which is also the taking of revenge against someone who has killed an ancestor of the avenging party. Fortunately, in today’s society, it is against the law to take the law into one’s own hand. If not, who knows how many unnecessary deaths would continue. ~Ernie Hoyt

The Amur River: Between Russia and China by Colin Thubron (HarperCollins Publishers)

What is an eighty-year-old man doing, riding horseback through Mongolia and staunchly ignoring his injured ankle as it turns amber and black? To complicate matters even more, this octagenarian is at the beginning of a journey to travel the length of a river that’s perhaps the eighth longest in the world--or maybe the tenth. 

The Amur is probably the greatest river you’ve never heard of. With more than 200 tributaries, it flows for 2,826 miles, through Siberia, past China, and into the Pacific Ocean. It forms a 1000-mile border between Russia and China, “a fault-line shrouded in old mistrust.”

Colin Thubron is determined to follow the Amur River, from the source of its first tributary in Mongolia’s sacred and forbidden territory until it enters the Pacific. If anybody can accomplish this, it’s Thubron, a man who has spent his life traveling and writing, with a staggering total of eleven works of travel literature and eight novels. He’s known as a “gifted linguist,” a knowledge that gives a deeper dimension to his writing than that of many other travelers.  While most travel writing is solipsistic because of the isolation that linguistic ignorance guarantees, Thubron enters fully into every region he visits.

In this journey he is instantly immersed in the “icy torrent of light” cast by the Milky Way upon the Mongolian grassland and “a tide of wildflowers” that surrounds him in daylight. In the company of three Mongolians and with the grudging permission of officials, Thubron sets off to find the Amur’s furthest tributary, the Onon, which springs from the sacred mountains that spawned Genghis Khan and may hold his burial ground. Even on horseback, this is an arduous journey, through the evergreen forests of the taiga and the bogs that border them, with mudholes that can easily engulf a horse--and does. Thubron’s mount sinks and rolls, its weight trapping him and injuring his ribs. With pain alternating between ankle and ribcage, Thubron continues.  After reaching “a trickle of water,” the beginning of the Onon, he and his companions follow it back to the grasslands, a three-hundred-mile start of a much longer adventure.

Traveling by jeep, Thubron travels through blood-soaked country, where the Baryat Mongols from Siberia were imprisoned and killed by the Soviet government in the 30’s, their history still living in the stories of survivors, “the direct memory people.” Thubron himself revives the memory of the Xiongnu people who once threatened China as he drives through the region where their burial grounds live. “Horses haunt these graves,” he says, the skeletons of those who were sacrificed within the tombs, their harnesses, the jars filled with theirr bones. 

Thubron follows the Onan into Russia, where it becomes the Shilka River on one bank and the Heilongjiang on its opposite side. It’s a border between Russia and China that at times is less than half a mile in width, where the glittering modernity of a Chinese city faces a haphazardly preserved past in a Russian town.  Russian markets are filled with Chinese goods, transported across the river by Russian laborers, “camels.” their Chinese employers call them. China is feared and hated, even by the Russians who profit from doing business with them. Rumors persist that the Chinese are everywhere, planning to make Siberia their next province. 

Following Chekhov on that writer’s journey down the Amur which claimed Anton’s “unsentimental heart” with its “million gorgeous landscapes,” Thubron is stopped by police in an encounter that threatens to derail his journey, a disaster that is avoided for reasons he never understands. He moves through the history of slaughtered tribal people and massacred Chinese, of Pu Yi, the last emperor, held briefly in Siberia where his servants still brushed his teeth and tied his shoes, and traces of Manchu heritage in a Chinese village where he hears one of the last surviving speakers of Manchu speak a language that is known by no more than twenty people nationwide. 

Because the region’s savage winters make river travel impossible, Thubron postpones the final leg of his journey until the following spring. Six months later he returns, his body healed of what British doctors diagnosed as two fractured ribs and a broken fibula in his ankle. He moves north, into the land of indigenous people who live among bears and birch forests. Rumors claim they worship bears and their myths are filled with stories of women who bore children fathered by a bear. With Russian guides, he embarks on a fishing trip into the wilderness where bears are commonplace and rumors consist of the return of tigers. 

Thubron’s companions ignore the truth that they’re fishing out of season and so do the local police, who give them tips on where the best fish can be caught. They catch and feast upon a six-foot Amur sturgeon, a species that’s been off-limits for thirty years. When the police see what they bagged, they laugh and move on. Later when Thubron and his companions find an eight-foot Kaluga sturgeon who has had her caviar gouged from her body, even the poachers are disgusted. 

When he reaches his final destination, it’s a town with streets “barely woken after winter,” a place with a “louring past” of battles and massacres, one that was destroyed by fire and “grew piecemeal from the ashes.” The mouth of the Amur “yawns three miles wide” before it spills into the ocean and Thubron ends his account abruptly, as if he hated to have reached the end. 

Even this man, who has turned his travels into an art form that brings the places he goes, the people he meets, the history he encounters, vividly and thoughtfully alive in his books, has occasional qualms that every traveler has known: “Then I feel how liitle I understand where I am, and travel seems an exercise in failure.” 

This is a temporary slump. Thubron emerges to relish the sight of “ a thick, unending parapet of trees,” conversations with a man who venerates Cossacks and their never-ending spree of blood, with a woman whose grandmother was one of the last shaman, with people who live off the barren land of Siberia, and stories of a bear festival that once persisted, drenched in brutality. This is the traveler we all wish to be, futilely. There is only one Colin Thubron, moving onward into his eighties, redefining what age can mean to those who have the courage to ignore it.~Janet Brown

In Beautiful Disguises by Rajeev Balasubramanyam (Bloomsbury)

Fashion and beauty magazine Marie Claire describes Rajeev Balasubramanyam’s novel In Beautiful Disguises as “Holly Golightly meets Arudnhati Roy in an elegantly written novel about a girl who is desperate to escape from her life.” This is Balasubramanyam’s debut novel. The book was the winner of the Betty Trask Prize in 1999 even before it was published. 

The story is narrated by an unnamed sixteen year old girl living in South India. She begins her story by saying, “I was born a girl and remained so until I became a woman”. She was the youngest of the three children, having an elder sister and her much older brother, Ravi. Their father was an office clerk and their mother was a housewife and most of the time was treated like a domestic servant. 

The narrator had a passion for movies. She didn’t have any friends and spent most of her time at the local cinema called Majick Movie House. She came home one day and was informed that her sister was to be married. She was still fifteen and did not know how to react. 

She was seventeen when her sister had her first child. This was also the year when she saw Breakfast at Tiffany’s four times at the Majick Movie House. Holly Golightly became her role model. It was also the year she learned she was to be married. 

She meets the man she is to marry and doesn’t like him one bit. She didn’t like the tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, the way he was looking at her as “his look went way beyond visual autopsy”. It was also his six-year old sister, Savitri, pointing at something and asking, “What’s that thing?” The man could not hide his obvious erection. 

The father said the meeting was a success but the protagonist definitely did not want to marry the man. No, she was not going to marry the man, but if she didn’t, her father would be angry and would take out his anger on Ravi or her mother. For some reason, he has never hit her and she doesn’t know why. 

The narrator makes a life-changing decision. She decides to run away. She receives help from her sister’s husband’s grandfather who has found her a job in the City, a place she’s never been before. She was to start working as a maid for Mr. Aziz and his wife, Mrs. Marceau, a mean-spirited French woman who looks down on all the workers and Indians in general. She works for the couple for about a year and has many new life experiences. 

She meets a host of interesting characters at the house. Raju, a friend of her sister’s husband’s grandfather and the person that helps her settle into her new life. Ishaq, the person who was helping Raju in the kitchen. Manu, the driver. Arun, the gardener who often gets drunk after work and tries to take advantage of the younger women servants. She meets the other maids - Ambika, an old lady with a bad back who cleans the first floor and the kitchen and Maneka, one of the younger women who seems to be a bit promiscuous. Her job is to clean the top two floors of the house. And there is Armand, the son of Mr. Azia and Mrs. Marceau, who she begins to develop feelings for. 

This is a story of a girl who goes against traditions, defies her father’s wishes and sets out a new life in The City, where she gains new life experiences. However, she also comes to realize that she cannot go on living life as a fantasy, pretending that “she is a movie star in disguise as a maid”. She finally finds the courage to return home and to confront her greatest fear - her father. 

Balasubramanyam writes the story in such a way that you can’t help wanting the narrator to achieve her dreams of becoming the next Holly Golightly. Her actions may give other women in similar circumstances to question outdated traditions and to make their own life decisions no matter how difficult it may be. ~Ernie Hoyt