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In 1980 Cathy Davidson traveled to Japan to teach English at a leading all-women's university. It was to be the beginning of a deep and abiding fascination. Cathy Davidson had imagined a Japan of rock gardens with raked sand, of delicately arched wooden bridges and glowing paper lanterns. She was not prepared for the grim modernity of Osaka with its garish billboards and dingy concrete apartment blocks. Yet gradually another Japan revealed itself to herone of rituals and communal baths, of temples with rice-paper walls, of pleasures that are subtle and lasting and deep emotions expressed without words. Even more unexpected, this Japan suggested to her secrets about herself. Spirited and original, "36 Views of Mount Fuji" is at once a look at the seductiveness and disappointments of being a stranger in a strange land, the memoir of a deeply personal interior journey, and a poignant meditation on whether we can see things clearly only at a distance.
Davidson moved to Japan in 1980 to teach English at the nation's leading all-women's university, and began a deep and abiding fascination with the country and its people. This spirited and evocative work is at once a highly original travel memoir and the compelling account of a deeply personal interior journey.
Empathy infuses Davidson's reactions to the Japanese and lifts this graceful, balanced account of her experiences in their country above the ordinary. Her book's title, taken from the series of woodblock prints by the famed late-18th century artist, Hokusai, reflects her will to see many different and sometimes contradictory aspects of the culture, to avoid stereotypes and to admit a range of emotions. Between 1980 and 1990, she visited Japan four times, twice for year-long assignments as an English professor at Kanzai Women's University. She struggled with the language, made do with standard cramped living quarters, reached out within the acceptable social forms to fellow teachers, students and neighbors. She ate native foods, accepted the invitation of a male colleague to tour the pornographic boites of Osaka's ``Floating World,'' stayed overnight with the priestess of a matriarchal communal religion, and generally learned to feel so much at home that she occasionally thought of herself as Japanese. Through women friends, Davidson ( The Book of Love: Writers and Their Love Letters ) came to understand their power in this society as well as their needs. Her charmingly drawn word-pictures resonate. (Oct.)
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