Review of Sujata Massey's _The Flower Master_ (HarperCollins, 1999)
For me, The Flower Master, the third in Sujata Massey’s Rei Shimura series, is the best thus far in the series. Although some cultural broker elements are still there (unavoidable given the audience), this novel feels richer and less simplistic - in terms of culture - than the previous ones, perhaps partly due to having laid that previous groundwork. It’s also more subtle in its treatment of interpersonal issues; I liked getting more information about the history and inner life of Rei’s aunt, Norie Shimura. Plus, no gross love scenes! :D
The novel centers on the murder of Sakura Sato, one of the senior teachers at the Kayama School for ikebana (flower arranging) and a grade-A bitch. Sato works for the Kayama family, including Masanobu Kayama (the venerated headmaster of the school); his well-heeled and snooty daughter Natsumi; and his environmentalist, back-to-nature son Takeo, who is slated to take over the Kayama School. Various other teachers, employees, and students of the Kayama School are involved, as is Che Fujisawa, a Colombian-Japanese activist. Che and his group, Stop Killing Flowers, protest the sale of flowers imported from Colombia, which are grown with pesticides that harm and kill the mostly young Colombian women who cut the flowers. This aspect of the novel draws attention to the modern international market and environmental factors of what may - and often is - perceived as purely an ancient Japanese art form. Several other mixed-race people (primarily Latin-American-Japanese) figure in the novel, as do Korean Japanese, who have lived in Japan for generations but are still required to carry special passports and face discrimination. I really loved how the novel presented these complex issues, mediated by Rei, who is herself just learning about these issues and unsure what to think.
The novel also makes interesting use of haiku by the 17th-century poet Basho, serving as missives to torment Rei and her aunt (take that, Lacan!). It also features at least one pretty dramatic and violent scene that would probably translate well to film.
I love this scene that juxtaposes the polyglot protesters with the bright, brittle sheen of the upscale Mitsutan department store:
A yellow rose means death to all people of all colors, one sign read, referring to Mitsutan’s official yellow rose emblem. The flowers you admire poison our young, said another. When is death a bargain? was the final cryptic message. The signs, lettered in Japanese, Spanish, and English, moved up and down as the mix of Japanese and Latin American-Japanese young people slowly circled the store entrance. A number of uniformed guards stared down the protestors but appeared unable to do more. Customers headed for the store merely bypassed the main entrance and entered through side doors. The protest was visible, but it wasn’t stopping shopping.
Che didn’t hold a sign; he was too busy handing out leaflets. When I came up, he didn’t recognize me, perhaps because I had sunglasses on and was wearing jeans instead of a dress. Maybe I looked like a likely convert, because he murmured, “Sister, please join our fight against the death fields of flowers. Boycott the Kayama killers’ exhibition!”
I took the leaflet and ducked into the store, which didn’t seem to be suffering any from the protest outside. Mitsutan was packed with housewives hefting large shopping bags decorated with the yellow rose that Stop Killing Flowers was railing against, as well as affluent teenagers clutching Prada totes and toddlers with Sanrio backpacks on their backs. Everyone had a status bag of some sort….
Riding up the escalator to the gallery floor, I stopped off on the young designers’ floor to look at how Natsumi Kayama had decorated the mannequins in the Nicole Miller boutique. The mannequins were dressed in orange and green silk dresses, and Natsumi had given them bouquets of fat yellow roses mixed with orange striped tiger lilies and trailing ivy. The flowers were undoubtedly imported. (94-5)
This scene is a perfect example of how the novel, while drawing the reader along in Rei’s sometimes confused quest for Sato’s killer, also starts to engage - not just introduce - the society in which it is set.
P.S. i'm not sure which cover bothers me more -- #1:
or #2:
Probably #2. But they're both pretty bad. :\
The novel centers on the murder of Sakura Sato, one of the senior teachers at the Kayama School for ikebana (flower arranging) and a grade-A bitch. Sato works for the Kayama family, including Masanobu Kayama (the venerated headmaster of the school); his well-heeled and snooty daughter Natsumi; and his environmentalist, back-to-nature son Takeo, who is slated to take over the Kayama School. Various other teachers, employees, and students of the Kayama School are involved, as is Che Fujisawa, a Colombian-Japanese activist. Che and his group, Stop Killing Flowers, protest the sale of flowers imported from Colombia, which are grown with pesticides that harm and kill the mostly young Colombian women who cut the flowers. This aspect of the novel draws attention to the modern international market and environmental factors of what may - and often is - perceived as purely an ancient Japanese art form. Several other mixed-race people (primarily Latin-American-Japanese) figure in the novel, as do Korean Japanese, who have lived in Japan for generations but are still required to carry special passports and face discrimination. I really loved how the novel presented these complex issues, mediated by Rei, who is herself just learning about these issues and unsure what to think.
The novel also makes interesting use of haiku by the 17th-century poet Basho, serving as missives to torment Rei and her aunt (take that, Lacan!). It also features at least one pretty dramatic and violent scene that would probably translate well to film.
I love this scene that juxtaposes the polyglot protesters with the bright, brittle sheen of the upscale Mitsutan department store:
A yellow rose means death to all people of all colors, one sign read, referring to Mitsutan’s official yellow rose emblem. The flowers you admire poison our young, said another. When is death a bargain? was the final cryptic message. The signs, lettered in Japanese, Spanish, and English, moved up and down as the mix of Japanese and Latin American-Japanese young people slowly circled the store entrance. A number of uniformed guards stared down the protestors but appeared unable to do more. Customers headed for the store merely bypassed the main entrance and entered through side doors. The protest was visible, but it wasn’t stopping shopping.
Che didn’t hold a sign; he was too busy handing out leaflets. When I came up, he didn’t recognize me, perhaps because I had sunglasses on and was wearing jeans instead of a dress. Maybe I looked like a likely convert, because he murmured, “Sister, please join our fight against the death fields of flowers. Boycott the Kayama killers’ exhibition!”
I took the leaflet and ducked into the store, which didn’t seem to be suffering any from the protest outside. Mitsutan was packed with housewives hefting large shopping bags decorated with the yellow rose that Stop Killing Flowers was railing against, as well as affluent teenagers clutching Prada totes and toddlers with Sanrio backpacks on their backs. Everyone had a status bag of some sort….
Riding up the escalator to the gallery floor, I stopped off on the young designers’ floor to look at how Natsumi Kayama had decorated the mannequins in the Nicole Miller boutique. The mannequins were dressed in orange and green silk dresses, and Natsumi had given them bouquets of fat yellow roses mixed with orange striped tiger lilies and trailing ivy. The flowers were undoubtedly imported. (94-5)
This scene is a perfect example of how the novel, while drawing the reader along in Rei’s sometimes confused quest for Sato’s killer, also starts to engage - not just introduce - the society in which it is set.
P.S. i'm not sure which cover bothers me more -- #1:
or #2:
Probably #2. But they're both pretty bad. :\