Instead of making him feel better, the grin deepened Toyo's sense of panic. He gave a quick smile then for Toyo, the same grin he always flashed right before getting them into trouble. Uncle Koji closed his eyes, touched the flat part of the blade to his forehead, and set the wakizashi in front of him on the mat. His uncle held the wakizashi cradled in his hands as though it were a newborn child. When he felt the weight of the sword lift from the stand, Toyo looked up at Koji. Kneeling a little clumsily, he bowed low to the ground once more to present the short wakizashi to his uncle. Toyo strained to keep his legs from shaking as he entered the shrine. The point and the edge of the blade were razor sharp. His father nodded, and Toyo stood and picked up a small wooden stand supporting a short sword about as long as his forearm. Returning the bow from his knees, Toyo touched his head to the ground to show his great respect for his uncle. Koji bowed to Toyo, the ceremony's only witness. Carrying them outside like this was illegal, though Toyo's father would soon be using the swords to carry out an order signed by the Emperor himself. For as long as he could remember, the katana and wakizashi had been retired to a place of honor in their home. Toyo's father wore a simple gray kimono with the family swords tucked neatly into his sash. In fact, Toyo couldn't remember either of them laughing for a long time. They used to joke that Koji's nose had been as straight as his older brother's, until it had been flattened one too many times in judo practice. Though older than his brother, Toyo's father was slightly smaller than Koji, with a long, thin face and a sharp nose like a katana blade. Koji knelt on the tatami mats and crossed his legs, keeping his hands on his hips and his arms akimbo. Toyo's uncle was clean shaven and recently bathed, and he wore his hair in a tight top-knot like the samurai of old. He wore a ceremonial white kimono with brilliant red wings - the wings he usually wore only into battle. Now Toyo sat in the damp grass outside the shrine as his uncle moved to the center of the mats. Everything had to be perfect for Uncle Koji's seppuku. When that was done, he carefully arranged new tatami mats on the dirt floor. Since it IS still an integral part of the Japanese culture, the ignoring of such practice shows a certain mentality from the author and the publisher.Toyo watched carefully as his uncle prepared to kill himself.īefore dawn, he had swept and cleaned his uncle's favorite shrine, down to polishing the small mirror that hung on a post at its center. ![]() ![]() These can be easily researched - even a simple google search or any entry level Japanese language text book can reveal the correct usage of these honorifics. When calling an upper classman, one will always use honorifics: -san and -sempai attached to either the first or last names and when the younger students are addressed, the older ones might use -kun. A son will never call his own father by the first name – no matter HOW much he detest his own father. It simply is not done - not then, and not even now in the 21st century. The most glaring problem for me is the use of first names of anyone elder. Note on Cultural Inaccuracies: My suspicion was confirmed by a Japanese friend that since Gratz is not Japanese, nor is he an expert in the Japanese language, some cultural inaccuracies occur in the book. To link the spirit of Bushido (Way of the Warriors) and baseball presents such a fresh look on the American’s National Pasttime that will inspire many young readers to think about the sport they love more deeply and meaningfully. All the necessary components of a successful baseball team. Yet this is not a book about violence, but about honor, loyalty, teamwork, inner strength, and physical strength, as well. The opening scene of detailed Seppuku (suicide by cutting open one’s own stomach) ritual and some of the High School hazing methods are definitely not for the faint of heart. The events unfold as the momentum gains and as Toyo’s self-understanding grows – subtly but with such forces that I could not put the book down. Every scene is necessary in this tightly written and thoroughly researched historical novel.
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