Most remote islands of the imagination conjure up paradise. Japan is an archipelago of puzzlement. From the sands that forged their swords and serenity, they traveled a Samurai Road of temples and shrines, feudal fortresses, and flowing mountain streams of wasabi. On sashimi and soy sauce, and green tea over rice, they lived a thousand years of pathos, under cherry blossoms and ephemeral moonlight, in Zen gardens and futon dreams. It was all so perfect.
Lawrence Winkler is a physician, traveler, and natural philosopher. His molecules have morphed from medicine to manuscript. He lives with Robyn on Vancouver Island and in New Zealand, tending their gardens and vineyards, and dreams.
Pretty good but jumps around between eras and the current narrative and historical periods. Narrator is the author but he butchers the Japanese pronunciation so much that I cringe :(