Book #45: The Buddha in the Attic

Book #45: The Buddha in the Attic by Julie Otsuka

August 29, 2013


This book was quite unexpected. I was drawn in to it by the synopsis on my local library's ebook site; one thing that I've been trying to do with this reading challenge is to read works that present multicultural perspectives. I've always had some interest in the Japanese internment camps during World War II, and the treatment of Japanese-American people during that time period, but I'll admit that I haven't really sought out much literature or information about it. Here's a fact: the Holocaust is much more widely taught in U.S. schools than those events, happening during that same time period in our own country, might briefly be touched on, if discussed at all.

Certainly, the Japanese-Americans weren't killed. But they were still treated quite shabbily, and the last couple of chapters of this short book show things from their perspective. The writing style of this book is almost poetic, and probably couldn't be described as a "novel." It begins in the early part of the 20th century, as many young Japanese women (and some young girls) are brought from their home country (where their families were sometimes starving and desperate, and sometimes well off) to marry Japanese men already living in America. Many of them are lured to their matches on false pretenses, and are put to work as farm hands, or helping their husbands run laundry businesses or restaurants in California towns.

I feel like the story would have been intriguing if it had been told from one woman's perspective. Instead, on this poetic narrative, the story is told in the "plural first person": "we," referring to all of these Japanese women as they arrive in America, meet (and are usually disappointed by) their husbands, and live their lives in their new country. They have diverse experiences, yet the story continues to follow them all, and while their differences are pointed out, they have many things in common throughout the years: dealing with racism and being treated as second class citizens, their children assimilating into American culture and growing ashamed of their immigrant parents, and of course, their eventual evacuation from their California rural communities and cities, to destinations unknown (or, at least, not explained in the text).

About the middle of the book, I started to get a little tired of the writing style. But as the story came into the 1940's, into World War II, I was drawn in again. Otsuka is telling so many stories in this book, and is also telling the story of the experience of a race of people in a hostile country. This book made me feel ashamed of American's racist history, all over again. Then again, as expressed in the text, the Japanese characters had stereotypes and prejudices of their own (especially among other Asian communities, like the Chinese of Filipinos). I appreciated the book all the more for not only making that shameful time in our country so vivid, and also for putting actual faces (such real faces; though the descriptions of the individuals are minute, they are such real and raw details that you feel like you know so much about them).

I couldn't help, as I read the final chapter (which switches to a collective "we" of white Americans, living in the communities in California where the Japanese people have disappeared), comparing this situation once again with the Holocaust. This time, I thought of the people in Germany, or in Poland, watching their Jewish neighbors disappearing. Some comparisons could be made; the book describes how people lined up and watched the Japanese people being herded out of their cities (not at gunpoint, though many very distressed about being forced away from their homes and the lives that they'd built with such care). The final chapter expresses that the people were, on the whole, concerned (though there were still many Americans who were suspicious of their Japanese neighbors, suspecting them of being spies or traitors)...at least at first. They weren't afraid to ask questions; certainly people under the Nazi regime would not be so bold in questioning their leaders, though the Americans still received no definitive answers about the whereabouts of their Japanese neighbors. They were advised to move on...and so they did.

Was it human nature that caused these people to write off their Japanese neighbors as gone for good? After all, human beings are highly adaptable, and with the war going on and so many concerns for their own welfare, isn't it only natural that they would forget and move on? Was it callousness? After all, besides the people who patronized the Japanese businesses, or had them as servants in their homes, most white Americans treated the Japanese-Americans just as poorly as they treated other minority races and peoples. The book ends with the people of California forgetting, moving on, with vague ideas about how their former neighbors, forced inland, are doing the same.

Some people may make the assertion that Asian people in the United States haven't had it "as bad" as other minorities, like Hispanics or black people. I think it's more a matter of culture. The text describes how the Japanese people, harassed by racists, would calmly turn the other cheek. It wouldn't have been acceptable for them to defend themselves, or to stop working as hard as possible. But just because they were not as outspoken about the atrocities that they faced as much as some of the brave black people during that same time, and later during the Civil Rights movement, doesn't mean that the racism didn't hurt them, or that their history in America shouldn't be honored, either.

Though I am an English teacher, part of my unique teaching assignment involves teaching a section of U.S. History. We will eventually get to World War II, a topic that the class has shown some interest in already (we just started school a couple of days ago). I will make a point to delve into this subject, perhaps allowing the students to make their own comparisons with the Holocaust. I firmly believe that my responsibility as a teacher, regardless of the subject, is to introduce students to these all-important topics, like the treatment of Japanese-Americans during World War II, or the prevalence of Jim Crow laws in Southern states prior to the Civil Rights movement. Those important topics were not enough a part of my own public school education. Yes, it's difficult to learn about such a shameful time in our history, but it's important, too. We need to boldly look those facts in the face, and reflect on them, and use our knowledge to shape our world into a better place.

I feel pretty certain that this picture was taken after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. But as the text clearly shows, racist attitudes towards Japanese-Americans was nothing new.

A statue of the laughing Buddha, which is probably the most well-known Buddhist symbol in the West. I have had a fascination with Buddhism since visiting countless Buddhist temples during my trip to Tibet a few years back. The "buddha in the attic" referred to in the title has a double-meaning. On the one hand, there is a literal Buddha, a small laughing Buddha, left in the corner of the attic in an abandoned house. On the other hand, it represents the fact that these Japanese-American women had to hide their true identities, their ethnicities, from their racist neighbors and even from their own children.