The Lady and the Monk

In a way, this is the prequel to the beautifully written Autumn Light. I’ve said it before that I quite like the floral writing style of Pico Iyer, with humor strewn throughout. But this book, I felt, was more emotional, more zen in that regard. Broadly categorized, this book carries three themes, Kyoto city through the seasons, zen meditation, and his personal relationship.

He talks about how he came to Kyoto(京都) for the first time and then decided to live here long term. Kyoto is arguably my favorite city in the world so far. It’s astonishing how carefully they have managed to preserve history in the city, in the alleys, behind the residential building, or along the Kamo River. It’s hard not to notice this beautiful city’s blend of the modern and ancient. And so understandably, Pico Iyer doesn’t hold back. With vivid descriptions of the various shrines, cafes, and streets of Kyoto, he writes an endearing love letter to the city. Based on his reading of Japanese literature, he tries to make sense of the city and explains topics such as why Kyoto seems inherently feminine. Its dialect and it being the center of famous cultural concepts such as the Geisha, Flower Arrangement, Kimono, etc, essentially define the city. The various shrines and temples throughout the city and nearby prefectures, their history and their importance. We are introduced to more characters, each one of them on their own path to self-discovery, trying out paths quite different from one another, all brought together by Kyoto. There’s so much to write about this city, perhaps I can write a love letter to Kyoto of my own someday.

In parallel, he describes his relationship with his (now) wife, how they met, and how they both navigated the cultural and language differences. I realized that you start to appreciate this section more when you realize the familial and societal dynamics of Japanese society. How hard it is for someone to deviate from the outlined path, even slightly so, how they are alienated and everything works against them. It was tough to read but still encouraging. Finally, both these themes are underlined by the teachings of Buddhism and Zen.

I’d like to close with this rather painful sentence from the last few pages of the book, where the author describes the very common practice of criticizing one’s own culture while traveling. I’ve done that on numerous occasions and while I feel there’s nothing wrong with it and stand by the sentiment, putting it into words was slightly unsettling:

We are optimists when faced with another culture, and pessimists when faced with our own.