March Book Lunch, Garden of Evening Mists (Entry 6)

Just returned from Book Lunch at Jane's. Oh how I love love love book lunch days. You never know what is going to happen. You never know what will be said. Love the exchange of ideas, the differing viewpoints, the synergy of 14 minds revolving around a central axis of one book.

Jane (and Betty) whipped up quite a Malaysian spread. First warm nuts and wasabi peas. Then Oriental Chicken Salad (mainly chicken, but with some red bell pepper, asparagus, green onion, sesame seeds in a peanut dressing), duck tacos (these from Hawkers, a Malaysian restaurant on Mills Ave in Orlando. Who knew?), homemade Malaysia flat bread, and cut fruit. Dessert tropical sorbets and brownies.

And they dressed in authentic attire from Malaya. These gals know how to make us all feel warm and welcomed. Thank you ladies!

The discussion. Well, all agreed this was an excellently written book. Almost poetic, his prose. So many moments in these 332 pages to stop, visualize, go inward. Figure out.

What happened to Aritomo after he passed out through the garden gate?

 No concensus on this.

 He committed suicide.
He wandered into the Cameron wilderness intentionally for the remainder of his life.
He went to the high mountain church and lived with the nuns.
No one thought he returned to the Prison Camp Golden Lily to take the treasure.
No one thought he returned to Japan to garden for the Emperor. 

So was this intentional by the author, that we wouldn't know? Or were his hints there. Want to ask the author this. Maybe I will run into him someday in an elevator, and HOPEFULLY I will remember this question.

Did Yun Ling ever forgive Aritomo / the Japanese? Forgiveness is in stages, forgiveness of this depth. First an opening of the mind, an easing of the anger and the bitterness. An acceptance of her new reality. Finally forgiveness. We think it was complete. She was finally able, after 40-so years, to mail the blue envelope given to her by a dying Japanese war criminal.

What is forgiveness? See above. And when the past doesn't have that hold on you any more. You can move on, move forward.

The OED defines forgiveness as 'to grant free pardon and to give up all claim on account of an offense or debt'.  Move forward.

Did we think the tattoo was hokey? No, we liked the pulling together of Aritomo and Yun Ling, with Golden Lily and Aritomo's art.

Another theme besides forgiveness? Memory. Loosing your memories. Reconciling with your memories. How we are in charge of what we remember. Different filters. Loved the two goddesses at Magnus's Majuba garden - the goddess of Memory, named Mnenosyne, and the goddess of Forgetting, with no name. And with a face that is blurred. Which is older? Goddess of memory, as you need to have the memory before you forget it.

// Rhodesian Ridgebacks!// Several of us do have tattoos. Just saying.
// What makes you look more intently, a circular window opening or a rectangular one?
// Beautiful, intricate woodblocks shared by Rita and Marlene, as in the book.  Works of art.
// Enthusiastic history information passed around by Cathi.
// Shinto Priests.
// War is a business.
// Bird nest soup is gelatinous and gooey. A delicacy at formal dinners. Thank you Beth for sampling for us.
// Even ordinary nuts, when heated and served in a white ceramic dish, are first class.

I want to visit a Japanese garden. Soon. Now. Several have been the the Kyoto Gardens.
Not where the dragons are, that's Kimodo.
And not where you wear a silk robe, that's Kimono.
Seriously, we all growing batty?

Violence in book was appropriate. Very savage treatment of prisoners by the Japanese in Malaya and by the British in The Boer War. To live in such fear, such uncertainty every day must have intensified the joy of being alive for those choosing to stay engaged in society. Others fled to the jungles, disappeared from society.  I can't even imagine.

Contrast this book to The Buddha in the Attic (Julia Osaka), which we read a few months ago. There the Japanese women were diminished by American families. The diminished not the diminishers. A different side to the story. Same time period.

Such a worth while book to read. Highly recommended. But just don't rush through it.

Savor the author's sentences.
Savor the views he presents of human spirit, similar to Borrowed Scenery.

Jackie noted this book was elegantly and extremely carefully constructed. The author made us stop, pause, and look right where he wanted us to look. He told stories within the story to highlight points (Borrowed Scenery?). He was our guide, aiding us in contemplation.

Just like a Japanese Garden.

Bravo Tan Twan Eng!

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Jane's Nuts:

     1 lb of your favorite nuts

     2 Tbl. of melted butter

     1 Tbl. of brown sugar

     1 Tbl. of fresh rosemary (chopped)

     1 tsp. of kosher salt

     1 tsp. of cayenne  pepper

Preheat oven to 350 degrees,  spread nuts on baking sheet and bake for 10 minutes until toasted.  Combine the remaining ingredients in a bowl and mix well.  Add the nuts and toss to coat.  Serve warm.  You can freeze them and then warm them briefly in the oven or microwave before serving.  Yields 3 cups. 

This was borrowed from Jane's friend in the kitchen, Ina. 

Quartet

Responding to an email invitation sent yesterday, a bevy of us went to the movies this afternoon, a glass of wine afterwards.


Quartet.

I went not knowing anything about it, only that it was about music and an old age home.

It was fantastic. I had tears in my eyes at the end when, well, I'm not going to tell you why...

Go see this movie if you have EVER sung a song.
Go see this movie if you have EVER had your heart broken. 
Go see this movie if you are willing to acknowledge we all are aging daily.

My dear, life-is-a-gas father said, "Getting older isn't fun, but it sure beats the alternative." Thankful for every day, for every experience.

I admit, the first fifteen minutes I thought to myself, This is sure a lot of old people. And they have lots of wrinkles and they move slowly. Then you see beyond the surface. You see the personalities and the energy and the life and their fascinating stories. You see their frustrations. You see some give up. You see some accept and thrive. You see compassion and community.

Very light-hearted. Funny beyond funny with that dry, wry British humor. And the humor is even more delightful if you are a person comfortable about aging.

When my time comes to move into a place where others take care of me, I want to be at Beecham House. What a hoot.

Quartet is SO WORTH IT. 

Pot Luck Supper

I thought I was sitting in the middle of a Tinkers's page-long passage describing (brilliantly) the words and laughter from a conversation past remaining in the air, floating around and up and down on air currents.

Sitting on one of our four Plantation-style chairs, upholstered in grayish aqua and white paisley fabric, in my living room. The round wicker coffee table in front of me had just hours ago held trays of parmesean cheese cubes, proscuitto and salami circles, spinach-artichoke dip with crackers. Next to me sat dear Beth and Mike, all of us sipping full glasses of Pinot Grigio. Catching up on the day, waiting for the first guests to arrive.

Now I sit there, just Mike in the house with me. He's getting a dog biscuit for Sporty, I can hear the clink of the biscuit jar. It is quiet. The lights are still dim. I'm pooped.

I can see the words floating around up there, spiraling up into the air of the 22 foot peaked ceiling, over the white trusses crossing from lake side wall to front courtyard wall. I can see the sentences. Then the laughter. The emotions are thick like a tiny cloud caught up there.

I love gatherings.

"I sang with Barry Manilov!"
 "You mean you were pregnant when you got married?"
 "Abbey the English Bulldog."
"He's buying a used car in Chicago."
"First tap dancing, now this."
"What, she's a prostitute?"
"There are more females than males in college today, why?"
"Sweet tooth."

We missed those who couldn't make it. Pot Luck Suppers are so cool. A construct all their own. As a child, I went to so many at our church. Mom made macaroni and cheese. And we would learn of so many cutting edge recipes at those Pot Luck Suppers. These were the years before Food TV and internet searching for recipes. Then our recipes were either handed down verbally mother to child, or gleaned from those handful of trusty cookbooks such as Joy of Cooking or Bennet Farm Cookbook. Seven Layered Salad! Cool Whip Jello Mold! Chicken with Broccoli and Creamed Mushroom Soup!

Pot Luck Suppers have evolved. Starting with a spread worthy of an apartment off the Plaza Popoli, we savored cubes of aged Parmesean, surrounded by the spread of cured Italian meats. Retro Artichoke-Spinach Dip with Wheat Thins. Rounded off with Camembert and a Boursin. Self service drinks in the living room Pinot Grigio, Chardonnay, Cabernet, and sparking waters was an experiment by the hostess, and I think it worked. Got us meandering out of the kitchen.

For the mains, we had garlic and rosemary Turkey Tenderloins, marinated Flank Steaks, Chicken Greens Salad, Orzo/Feta/Asparagus/Peppers Salad, Roasted Cauliflower and Broccoli, Butter Lettuce with Fruits and Nuts. And the grande finale was a Made-from-Scratch Chocolate Cake w whipped cream frosting, strawberries and vanilla ice cream. Oh man. Savor that coffee or peppermint tea, this was quite a feast.

We all fit at one table, and some enjoyed a spell outside on the porch. It was mentioned that it would be fun to do this every quarter, not only every year (or two or three.) Great idea.  Who will put it into action? Mike and I agreed, everyone is so nice, and such fun to be with. Thank you all for these moments of gathering. I just love them!