Breeze from the East
There are elements of the two trips to Japan my family made in the early 1980s that I remember particularly well. I developed a fervent affinity for the ever-present noodles, the perfectly manicured gardens with picturesque water features, the state-of-the-art gadgetry, and all the nifty, if unrecognizable, toys. Unlike any other travels, these trips to Japan sparked what became a lifelong interest in the island’s culture. By the time I was in fifth grade my favorite food was sushi; in college my bookshelves were lined with volumes of Tanizaki, Kawabata, and Murakami; and even today—much to the chagrin of my wife, I’m sure—our Netflix queue is loaded with obscure yakuza noir and samurai titles.
I’ve never given too much thought to exactly why Japan, and not…