From the implications of the title to the final full stop this elegant novella almost had me lost for words. I knew nothing of this author when I picked this slender volume up. I was simply not prepared for the beauty of the prose and the composition of the narrative. Muriel Barbery is a French novelist but this fragile tale is set in Japan and somehow seems to have conjured that Japanese style of narrative writing and the nuances and customs of the country.
‘ When the Japanese father she never knew dies, Rose heads to Kyoto to hear the reading of his will. But before Haru’s last wishes are revealed, Rose’s tour of the city of temples will uncover his true legacy - and at last open her heart to love.‘
The story is beautifully structured. Each chapter is preceded by a fable, legend or allegorical tale and the last line of each of these forms the heading for the next chapter. There was something delightful about that. It offered a cohesion and completeness to the whole book. The prose was poetic and graceful and conjured a gently tormented Rose experiencing the gradual realisation that she was searching for something and was on the brink of finding it.
Japan is palpably described; the temples and the cherry blossom and the restaurants and teahouses. I had a sense sometimes of being there, walking alongside Rose trying to understand her father’s wishes. I could almost taste the saki and smell the Japanese cuisine.
Rose is an intriguing character. At the start of the book she seems so spiky, so disillusioned with life. She seems to be programmed to initially mistrust. It was quite beautiful to see how, like a rosebud, she blossomed and bloomed as the book unfolded. She is a fortysomething botanist so you know that flora and nature are an important part of her life and so the title of the book takes on a subtle and deeper significance.
It’s a book with few characters but those characters have such an impact; from Sayoko who seems to be a housekeeper, Beth, the English woman who knew Rose’s father and seems to elicit an air of disapproval from some of those around her. Even the driver, Kanto, who does nothing in the book but drive has some kind of serene, reliable presence throughout. And then there is Paul, gentle, reliable Paul, who has loved and lost, who understands loyalty and respect and guides Rose, according to her father’s wishes but in the truest sense of the word too.
There’s something languorous about the progression of the narrative. It’s not a book to be rushed through. It’s a book to savour, the prose and the philosophies contained within, to shadow Rose and will her to see what’s right in front of her.
Like so many good books this is a book about love. The search for love that was always there , the dealing with love that has been snatched away and the search for love that was simply waiting.
I was about 100 pages into this book, I guess you could say halfway, when I stopped. I ordered two more books by this writer because the beauty of her writing was just so moving. However such literary beauty cannot be conveyed to an English audience without the skill and empathic translation of Alison Anderson who, to me, has understood so well the intentions of the author.
My thanks to Gallic books for a gifted proof of this wonderful novella plus the finished copy and a place upon the blog tour.
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