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When a novel is adapted into a film, I almost invariably find the written version more appealing. It might just be one of those elitist things that comes with the territory of being a longtime book-lover; you somehow always come to believe that your imagination is more accurate and on-point than the other guy's.
However, through pretty much no fault of its own, Memoirs of a Geisha as a novel is, in my books (ha ha ha, puns!), surpassed by the silver screen's version. I think a lot of this has to do with the way the movie adeptly brings to life all the colors and sounds of the world that Golden strives to portray in his writing. John Williams' arrestingly lovely accompanying score doesn't hurt either. In any case, the novel is significantly improved upon in the film, which I find to be a good thing. After all, isn't that why screen adaptations of books are made in the first place? (And that noise you hear is Hollywood responding with a resounding "NO". Clearly.)
At its core, Memoirs is a novel about overcoming adversity. It tells the story of one geisha's dogged pursuit of love and happiness in the face of career challenges, political turmoil, and bitter rivalries. Narrated from the perspective of retired geisha Nitta Sayuri, Memoirs paints an elegant picture of the colorful, separate reality--the "flower and willow world"--in which geisha once lived and worked. It was the imagery that drew me in most of all; Golden's descriptions of the settings and costumes are vivid and arresting. I found myself reading late into the night, just to get a "glimpse" of another one of Sayuri's kimono. I've always been fascinated by Japanese culture, and Memoirs of a Geisha definitely fed that fascination.
The novel also impressed me because it read like an actual memoir. It is written in such a manner that it is easy to forget that it is, in fact, a work of fiction. The book even begins with a (fictional) note from the translator. For the five days it took me to read this book (which makes it a quick read, considering the fact that I'm a full-time student), I was absolutely ensnared by the world that Golden creates with his prose.
That being said, the book definitely has its flaws. While Memoirs is a good introduction into certain concepts within Japanese culture and the geisha subculture, it is clearly a novel written by an American. Rather than being introduced and incorporated subtly, many of the cultural elements are addressed with a heavy-handedness that is sometimes jarring. It is clear in these instances that Golden is trying to prove that he did his research. He works hard to capture a Japanese "voice", and it's sort of hit-or-miss throughout the novel. The characters were also kind of flat to me. Even Sayuri, in spite of being the protagonist, is generally lacking in depth and definition.
In any case, Memoirs of a Geisha is a fine book and a fine film. While both provide a relatively good primer on Eastern culture and philosophy, they are both works of historical fiction, and this is a fact that is important to take into account. As long as readers/viewers keep this in mind and don't try to take Memoirs at anything more than its face value, they will enjoy and benefit from their experience.
Grade: B+
Rating: 13 and up, for some (relatively vague) sexual content
I'm not going to write something all that eloquent, because I'm terribly jet-lagged and very tired, but I figure I should send this out into cyberspace while it still has as a chance of influencing your decisions.
I implore you not to go and see Paramount's new film, The Last Airbender, this weekend in theaters. In fact, I would encourage you not to go see it at all. The reason? Racebending.
If you want a really detailed explanation and analysis of what Racebending is and why it sucks, head over to http://www.racebending.com/v3/ and take a read or watch some of their informational videos. Here, I'll limit my explanation to to the following:
In the casting and production of The Last Airbender, Paramount has displayed a level of racism that I, for some unknown reason, had come to not expect from Hollywood (silly me!). For those of you who know about the original Nickelodeon cartoon, Avatar: The Last Airbender, the source material for Paramount's new film is an American-made anime-style cartoon which features an entirely Asian/Inuit cast of characters. However, in the translation of this TV series to the silver screen, Paramount has made the inspired decision to replace all of the Asian heros with Caucasian ones, going so far as to ask specifically for white actors in their casting calls for the lead roles.
In addition to this, both actors and members of the casting crew have produced various quotational gems that amount to nothing more or less than a suggestion and expectation of brownface (see Wikipedia for more information). Here's a delightful bit from Deedee Ricketts, the film's casting director:
"If you're Korean, come in a kimono. If you're from Belgium wear lederhosen. Even if you came with a scarf today, put it over your head so you'll look like a Ukrainian villager or whatever."
Cute, right?
The best part is that there's more. Not only did Paramount decide to just ignore the fact that the show's heroes are Asian, but they decided to color code things for us a little bit in case we didn't get the fact that they were being just a wee bit racist. Which, of course, is why just about all of the actors playing the antagonists are South Asian, aka "brown". Thanks, Paramount for solidifying for us once and for all that white = good and brown = bad.
So that's racebending for you. I can't imagine that the decision was made for any other reason than for a perceived monetary benefit, since I don't imagine Paramount having a KKK-type agenda (though I could be wrong). And maybe that's what makes it worse. See, "Avatar" as shown on Nickelodeon is one of the only existing American cartoons that actually has Asian heroes. For just about the first time, Asian kids have self-reliant, able protagonists who look like them.
To a lot of people this might not seem like a big deal, but allow me to remind you of the fervor that surrounded the creation of Disney's first black princess, Tiana. If having a Disney character to aspire to was so important to black youth, is it at all difficult to imagine that the same might be true for Asian kids? Don't they deserve to know that you can be Asian and still save the world--that being a hero doesn't necessitate Caucasian descent? This, I think, is what boils my blood the most about Paramount's adaptation--the fact that it strips "Avatar" of what makes it special to so many of its fans around the world. It tells Asian kids that they aren't worthy of telling their own story--that someone pretending to look like them can tell it better than they can. And that's a sad thing.
This is an annoyingly long note, so if you read it all the way through I offer you serious props and thanks. I suggest you look critically at this issue instead of brushing it aside as a trivial matter of pop-culture. I encourage you to maybe even do a little research of your own. Most of all, though, I really hope you and your friends will take this into consideration when making the decision of which movie to go see at the theater this weekend and in the future. Since protests and letter-writing campaigns have clearly failed, Paramount will have to face a monetary blow if it is to learn a lesson from this experience at all, and only a failure at the box office will do.
If nothing else, be comforted by this: according to Rotten Tomatoes, this movie seriously blows.
