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fantaseemanatee's review against another edition
5.0
Amazing! I have never been able to finish a nonfiction book with such fervor. Grief is a new topic that I am exploring, and Mutsuki Mockett was a great companion to begin my navigation with. 5/5!
coldprintcoffee's review against another edition
3.0
Really wish I could give this a 3.5 because that would capture it perfectly. There was definitely an unraveling of the main thread throughout here, and the time period in which the author was discussing was opaque, unclear. The parts describing Japanese character and tradition were interesting, but there was an odd swing in a lack of understanding to bonding over the Japanese-ness she did possess. Maybe the entire point was that she felt in limbo, lost. The prose is lush, rich, descriptive, and, as someone who has spent time in Japan, familiar. The complicated relationships with grief, death, life, traditional, and multiple layers of spirituality are fascinating to explore. It explained that grief and suffering are a part of life, and a bit of a journey. The only aspects that gave me pause were the ways that the Japanese explained away mental illness, or rather, chose to cope with it in ways that needed more explanation other than "tradition."
jcschildbach's review against another edition
5.0
Mockett does a wonderful job of pulling together multiple threads of rather serious and complicated stuff here--her own personal grief, the 2011 tsunami and Fukushima reactor disaster, the complex system of Japanese Buddhist temples, Japanese grief rituals, and numerous other aspects of Japanese culture and religion--into an enjoyable and moving read. Highly recommended.
liralen's review against another edition
4.0
The subtitle of the book is A Journey, and Mockett's journey is a complicated one. Half Japanese by birth, she never forgets—or lets the reader forget—that she was also born and raised American. With family in Japan, though, and her grandfather's bones to bury, she sets out in the wake of the 2011 earthquake to better understand Buddhism and grief and Japan's peacefully co-existing contradictions.
I read this for class, and it's easily my favourite book of the semester. There aren't easy answers, not least because there aren't easy questions, but Mockett takes to her exploration with a great deal of self-awareness and humour. She talks grief and depression but doesn't let the book get mired in it; rather, she asks more questions and pieces together more parts of a culture that does not quite let her claim it. An older man who was also visiting Aizu watched me as I carried on to my mother. He gave me a tolerant and compassionate smile. "I'm so sorry you are upset," he said. "But you don't understand. You aren't Japanese" (8).
This sense of being an outsider, though, is complicated by Mockett speaking Japanese and having Japanese family and otherwise understanding far more about Japan than your average Westerner. She is reminded that she is not Japanese, but also invited to see and do things that non-Japanese-speaking Westerners are not; there are conversations from which she must tease meaning, but she has the context with which to do so.
If it sounds like I'm skimming over huge parts of the book—grief! the tsunami! Buddhism!—well, I am, but it's not because they're not important. We haven't discussed this in class yet, but I'm very much looking forward to what others pick up on as standout themes.
I read this for class, and it's easily my favourite book of the semester. There aren't easy answers, not least because there aren't easy questions, but Mockett takes to her exploration with a great deal of self-awareness and humour. She talks grief and depression but doesn't let the book get mired in it; rather, she asks more questions and pieces together more parts of a culture that does not quite let her claim it. An older man who was also visiting Aizu watched me as I carried on to my mother. He gave me a tolerant and compassionate smile. "I'm so sorry you are upset," he said. "But you don't understand. You aren't Japanese" (8).
This sense of being an outsider, though, is complicated by Mockett speaking Japanese and having Japanese family and otherwise understanding far more about Japan than your average Westerner. She is reminded that she is not Japanese, but also invited to see and do things that non-Japanese-speaking Westerners are not; there are conversations from which she must tease meaning, but she has the context with which to do so.
If it sounds like I'm skimming over huge parts of the book—grief! the tsunami! Buddhism!—well, I am, but it's not because they're not important. We haven't discussed this in class yet, but I'm very much looking forward to what others pick up on as standout themes.
silodear's review against another edition
4.0
I really enjoyed this glimpse into ways of grieving, especially in the context of the 3/11 tsunami and earthquake in Japan. I like this authors style and appreciated her approach. I would have liked more focus on the tsunami/earthquake and the traumatic grief that it caused, but I still liked the gentler inquiry interwoven with the authors own experiences with death. Recommended.
darlingmud's review against another edition
5.0
One of the most interesting and wonderful books I've ever read. Honestly can't recommend it enough.
alysonimagines's review against another edition
5.0
As a biracial American with Japanese heritage, I really appreciate the rare in-depth insight into Japanese culture that Marie Mutsuki Mockett's memoir offers, since I have grown up mostly in the United States and am painfully aware of my own knowledge gap. It's an account not only of Mockett's geographic journey across Japan after the Fukushima nuclear disaster but also of a spiritual journey in which she explores the many rituals of death and grieving to be found in various Buddhist sects, Shintoism, and other Japanese cultural traditions as a way of coming to terms with her own grief over her American father's death. Says Mockett, "If you are a Westerner and you spend enough time in Japan—and you speak Japanese—you will eventually be told that you cannot truly understand the Japanese. Only the Japanese can understand themselves." Yet having a Japanese mother who took her to Japan many times as a child to visit the family's Buddhist temple, and having sufficient fluency in the language to converse with the Japanese on many aspects of their culture and history, Mockett is more qualified than the average Westerner to observe what makes the Japanese a truly unique people. Her observations are beautifully articulate and enable me to appreciate Japan in greater depth than I could have reached from my own limited experience.
skyturtles's review against another edition
5.0
My interests have intersected; how can I not love this book? Buddhism meets biography meets Japan meets tradition meets linguistics meets spirituality meets supernatural. I also recommend to you "Ghost of the Tsunami" by Richard Lloyd Parry, who brings a more in-depth journalistic take to the ante-mortem phenomena that the author presents here, which is not to say that her personal experiences and family connections are not of importance. I highly recommend reading both; together, I have so much more awareness of the impact of the March 11, 2011 earthquake and tsunami.
ernibidin's review against another edition
5.0
Halfway through the book, I found that it is a fascinating read about the nature of zen and buddhism in the Japanese culture, especially when dealing with grief and loss, as seen with the aftermath of the tsunami. I've never read anything on Buddhism before and this book gives a comprehensive understanding in the matter. I admire the Japanese on having a remarkable attitude and respond towards the tragedy.
Some parts of the book are quite touching, especially the stories about the lost souls after the tsunami. The author's grief for her father and her grandfather's death mirrors my own, maybe that's why I think this book is very relatable to me. And in my books, it rates high up there with my favourites. This book deserves five stars, and is one of the best books I've read in 2015.
Lastly, this is my favourite quote from the book:
I am, after all, just one person on a planet of millions, all of whom, if they have not already, will also suffer the same intense feelings of shock and loss that I have, and many of whom will do so in far more traumatic settings. MY LITTLE LANTERN OF GRIEF WAS BUT ONE IN A SEA OF OTHER LANTERNS.
Everybody will experience the feeling of losing someone they love, and we will try in our different ways to cope with it. For the Japanese, their gods and their fascinating culture in a way, will help them. And for the rest of us, we have our own beliefs, traditions, or religions to help us cope. All in all, I am truly happy that I found this book by accident and have the pleasure to read it.
Some parts of the book are quite touching, especially the stories about the lost souls after the tsunami. The author's grief for her father and her grandfather's death mirrors my own, maybe that's why I think this book is very relatable to me. And in my books, it rates high up there with my favourites. This book deserves five stars, and is one of the best books I've read in 2015.
Lastly, this is my favourite quote from the book:
I am, after all, just one person on a planet of millions, all of whom, if they have not already, will also suffer the same intense feelings of shock and loss that I have, and many of whom will do so in far more traumatic settings. MY LITTLE LANTERN OF GRIEF WAS BUT ONE IN A SEA OF OTHER LANTERNS.
Everybody will experience the feeling of losing someone they love, and we will try in our different ways to cope with it. For the Japanese, their gods and their fascinating culture in a way, will help them. And for the rest of us, we have our own beliefs, traditions, or religions to help us cope. All in all, I am truly happy that I found this book by accident and have the pleasure to read it.