A Zen Romance is a high-spirited memoir by an American woman who went to Japan in the late 1960s and--much to her own surprise--lost her heart to Zen. When the author first went to Japan to study the language, she was relatively unaffected by the Zen fervor then gripping young people across the United States. She was even known to announce, only half-jokingly, that she was going to Japan to "get away from Zen." But as it happened, the small room she rented in Kyoto was actually on the grounds of an ancient monastery. Over the course of months of conversation and meals with the monks, her wry sense of humor and unfailing generosity endeared her to them. Meanwhile, their practical, down-to-earth values made the religion a lot more appealing and accessible than she'd expected. Soon she was completely captivated by the wit and paradoxes of Zen, and even became the first foreigner allowed to take part in that temple's O-Zesshin, a week of intensive manual labor and meditation. However, just to complicate things a bit, one of the men there happened to look quite striking with his shaved head and subdued kimono. And before long she had caught his eye as well! Nothing is safe from the loving touch of Boehm's razor-sharp wit, least of all her own pretensions to greater wisdom. The book's rich, inventive language is a delight in itself. And a large, finely developed cast of supporting characters pushes the book closer to humorous novel than memoir.
Ugh. While I enjoyed the day-to-day, sensual details of life in Japan, particularly the foods Boehm tries and the places she explores, I spent most of my time reading this book wishing I could punch her in the face. This book exhibited the same kind of precious, self-obsessed stupidity also seen in Eat, Pray, Love, though I excused Boehm somewhat since she was in her early 20's. Everyone needs a chance to obsess over themselves when they're young, and Boehm does just that in so many cringingly awkward ways.