– Soft, subtle, familiar like a favorite song or movie, haunting as a lullaby or the memory of your grandmother’s fragrant roses, this is the best of Ryan Moore’s writing to date, at least for me. I re-read many of the lines and paragraphs several times as I let myself luxuriate in the story, trying to absorb the nuance, wondering what should be quoted in this review, what I could commit to memory for you and for myself. So much said, lovely words and meanings, visual, aural and olfactory cues, the closest I can come is to compare it to music, evocative and emotional, primal and subconscious, something that raises to crescendo, or is it epiphany. Pardon me while I wipe my eyes. OK, enough wallowing in poetic fantasy, I’ll try to be competent, forget this stream of consciousness gush.
– Connor Byrne, green-eyed New Yorker, arrives in Tokyo to write a travel feature of the hidden gems of the city, to be met and shepherded around by Hiroshi Sato, a local architect familiar with the city’s history. Conveyed by modern train from the airport to bustling station, quick city transfers and then to hotel, their interaction is ordinary, but there is a flavor of opposites attract; polished and controlled Hiroshi contrasted to energetic but casual, always amused Connor. This quality of quiet amusement continues throughout, and Connor is intrigued; he softly teases the stoic Hiroshi, rewarded with sighs that are almost laughter, a twitch of the lip that isn’t quite a smile. Connor is a charmer, a flirt. Hiroshi’s self-contained walls, built over the years to keep the world out, are doomed from the start.
– Lovely detail of Tokyo’s older buildings (the wood is always aged and darkened) contrasts with the neon and glass towers of modernity that the streamlined bullet trains shoot past; the city crowds forgotten as our guide shows Connor what was an Edo-period kimono shop, a story of a fire and a crane-embroidered kimono that vanished, or did it fly away; a shrine and the cat with raised paw that offers good fortune or warns away from danger, a possible origin of the maneki-neko cat (that clock). Tea shops, whiskey bars and a late evening walk that ends a breath away from tension-releasing almost-kiss; the pull remains between our men, the quiet interrupted by a slight noise. The next day, Hiroshi remains circumspect, won’t talk about it when amused Connor asks over coffee. Hiroshi finds him ‘unexpected’. At a venerable teahouse chosen for it’s silence, Hiroshi’s focus is on the ceremony, but Connor sits a bit too close, and they are aware of the heat. Later a friend warns Hiroshi that he is ‘a man who thrives on control’ and losing his balance means either ‘you want it, or you’re afraid of it’. Not that simple, but ‘Kuzuo wasn’t wrong.’
– The last night of Connor’s assignment finds them in Hiroshi’s understated apartment, sipping whiskey and feeling the heat of the moment slipping past. ‘I wanted to see you’…’if you want me to leave, tell me now’.
‘Every caress was an invitation to let go, every sigh a silent confession of the want that had lain dormant beneath years of self-discipline.’
Bed as refuge… ‘shedding of barriers’… Connor notices smooth skin, Hiroshi notices freckles. Discovery. ‘Tonight, we have something real. Let’s hold on to that.’
– Attraction builds through this story; I felt heat in my chest as I read, the pull between characters is compelling and sublime. Romantic I might be, but this brought back memories of my own, the quiet things that make us smile in the night, that make our little lives worthwhile. The final question, the final decision, Hiroshi’s quiet tentativeness: breakfast, garden, all ‘impressive’ distractions and excuses.
‘Some things were too important to let slip away.’
– Moore’s bonus, ‘Hiroshi’s Story – Private Exposure’: 3 days into the tour we see Hiroshi in his architecture office, his former professor/mentor/sometimes design-partner offers private access for Hiroshi and Connor to the currently closed-for-renovation Tanizaki, a ‘revolutionary structure that changed Tokyo’s architectural landscape’ – a true ‘hidden gem’ – a chance for Connor to view undocumented structural elements. Connor is thrilled ‘just the two of us’ and we see Hiroshi’s carefully constructed and maintained professional demeanor slip, his inner dilemma, the balance between professional boundaries and personal needs. Connor intuitively grasps the building’s ‘exhale’ (during the day, filled with people the building seems to hold it’s breath; empty at night, it exhales) and Hiroshi is breathless in admiration. They have similar concepts of space and structure, and are finding their compatibility. Floor to ceiling windows frame Tokyo at dusk, lights winking on, neon alive; the carefully constructed view loosens inhibitions and this time a kiss is achieved, Hiroshi’s barriers seem less important. Very cinematic. Intimate.
– Just when you think you have a grasp of Moore’s characters, he reveals something else, a glimpse into greater depth of feeling, motivations for actions, thought processes. We learn details, see into the character and hearts of our protagonists; it’s like there is a romantic gloss over a more solid foundation; hesitancy, fears but also hopes and dreams, it is all here to discover, to intuit, to revel in. Intimacy is built in layers, levels of seriousness and levity. Breathe in the detail, exhale the angst, the worry that inhibits us from being our true selves. Thank you, again, Mr. Moore.