Memoirs of a Geisha

by Arthur Golden

  "When was the last time you spoke with your old friend Nobu?"

  "Not in quite some time, Chairman," I said. "To tell the truth, I have the impression Nobu-san may be angry with me."

  The Chairman was looking down into his handkerchief as he refolded it. "Friendship is a precious thing, Sayuri," he said. "One mustn't throw it away."

  *

  I thought about this conversation often over the weeks that followed. Then one day late in April, I was putting on my makeup for a performance of Dances of the Old Capital, when a young apprentice I hardly knew came to speak with me. I put down my makeup brush, expecting her to ask a favor-because our okiya was still well supplied with things others in Gion had learned to do without. But instead she said:

  "I'm terribly sorry to trouble you, Sayuri-san, but my name is Takazuru. I wondered if you would mind helping me. I know you were once very good friends with Nobu-san..."

  After months and months of wondering about him, and feeling terribly ashamed for what I'd done, just to hear Nobu's name when I didn't expect it was like opening storm shutters and feeling the first draft of air.

  "We must all help each other whenever we can, Takazuru," I said. "And if it's a problem with Nobu-san, I'm especially interested. I hope he's well."

  "Yes, he is well, ma'am, or at least I think so. He comes to the Awazumi Teahouse, in East Gion. Do you know it?"

  "Oh, yes, I know it," I said. "But I had no idea Nobu-san visited there."

  "Yes, ma'am, quite often," Takazuru told me. "But... may I ask, Sayuri-san? You've known him a long while, and... well, Nobu-san is a kind man, isn't he?"

  "Takazuru-san, why do you ask me? If you've been spending time with him, surely you know whether or not he is kind!"

  "I'm sure I must sound foolish. But I'm so confused! He asks for me every time he comes to Gion, and my older sister tells me he's as good a patron as any girl could hope for. But now she's angry with me because I've cried in front of him several times. I know I shouldn't do it, but I can't even promise I won't do it again!"

  "He is being cruel to you, is he?"

  By way of answering, poor Takazuru clenched her trembling lips together, and in a moment tears began to pool at the edges of her lids, so much that her little round eyes seemed to gaze up at me from two puddles.

  "Sometimes Nobu-san doesn't know how harsh he sounds," I told her. "But he must like you, Takazuru-san. Otherwise, why would he ask for you?"

  "I think he asks for me only because I'm someone to be mean to," she said. "One time he did say my hair smelled clean, but then he told me what a nice change that was."

  "It's strange that you see him so often," I said. "I've been hoping for months to run into him."

  "Oh, please don't, Sayuri-san! He already says how nothing about me is as good as you. If he sees you again, he'll only think the worse of me. I know I shouldn't bother you with my problems, ma'am, but... I thought you might know something I could do to please him. He likes stimulating conversation, but I never know what to say. Everyone tells me I'm not a very bright girl."

  People in Kyoto are trained to say things like this; but it struck me that this poor girl might be telling the truth. It wouldn't have surprised me if Nobu regarded her as nothing more than the tree where the tiger might sharpen its claws. I couldn't think of anything helpful, so in the end I suggested she read a book about some historical event Nobu might find interesting, and tell the story to him bit by bit when they met. I myself had done this sort of thing from time to time-for there were men who liked nothing more than to sit back with their eyes watery and half-closed, and listen to the sound of a woman's voice. I wasn't sure it would work with Nobu, but Takazuru seemed very grateful for the idea.

  *

  Now that I knew where to find Nobu, I was determined to go and see him. I felt terribly sorry I'd made him angry with me; and of course, I might never see the Chairman again without him. I certainly didn't want to cause Nobu pain, but I thought perhaps by meeting with him I could find some way of resuming our friendship. The trouble was, I couldn't drop in uninvited at the Awazumi, for I had no formal relationship with the teahouse. So in the end I made up my mind to stroll past during the evening whenever I could, in the hopes of bumping into Nobu on his way there. I knew his habits well enough to make a fair guess about the time he might arrive.

  For eight or nine weeks I kept up this plan. Then at last one evening I spotted him emerging from the back of a limousine in the dark alleyway ahead of me. I knew it was him, because the empty sleeve of his jacket, pinned at the shoulder, gave him an unmistakable silhouette. The driver was handing him his briefcase as I neared. I stopped in the light of a lantern there in the alley, and let out a little gasp that would sound like delight. Nobu looked in my direction just as I'd hoped.

  "Well, well," he said. "One forgets how lovely a geisha can look." He spoke in such a casual tone, I had to wonder whether he knew it was me.

  "Why, sir, you sound like my old friend Nobu-san," I said. "But you can't be him, for I have the impression he has disappeared completely from Gion!"

  The driver closed the door, and we stood in silence until the car pulled away.

  "I'm so relieved," I said, "to see Nobu-san again at last! And what luck for me that he should be standing in the shadows rather than in the light."

  "Sometimes I don't have the least idea what you're talking about, Sayuri. You must have learned this from Mameha. Or maybe they teach it to all geisha."

  "With Nobu-san standing in the shadows, I'm unable to see the angry expression on his face."

  "I see," he said. "So you think I'm angry with you?"

  "What else am I to think, when an old friend disappears for so many months? I suppose you're going to tell me that you've been too busy to come to the Ichiriki."

  "Why do you say it as if it couldn't possibly be true?"

  "Because I happen to know that you've been coming to Gion often. But don't bother to ask me how I know. I won't tell you unless you agree to come on a stroll with me."

  "All right," said Nobu. "Since it's a pleasant evening-"

  "Oh, Nobu-san, don't say that. I'd much rather you said, 'Since I've bumped into an old friend I haven't seen in so long, I can't think of anything I'd rather do than go on a stroll with her.' "

  "I'll take a walk with you," he said. "You may think whatever you like about my reasons for doing it."

  I gave a little bow of assent to this, and we set off together down the alley in the direction of Maruyama Park. "If Nobu-san wants me to believe he isn't angry," I said, "he should act friendlier, instead of like a panther who hasn't been fed for months. No wonder poor Takazuru is so terrified of you..."

  "So she's spoken to you, has she?" said Nobu. "Well, if she weren't such an infuriating girl-"

  "If you don't like her, why do you ask for her every time you come to Gion?"

  "I've never asked for her, not even once! It's her older sister who keeps pushing her at me. It's bad enough you've reminded me of her. Now you're going to take advantage of bumping into me tonight to try to shame me into liking her!"

  "Actually, Nobu-san, I didn't 'bump' into you at all. I've been strolling down that alley for weeks just for the purpose of finding you."

  This seemed to give Nobu something to think about, for we walked along in silence a few moments. Finally he said, "I shouldn't be surprised. You're as conniving a person as I know."

  "Nobu-san! What else was I to do?" I said. "I thought you had disappeared completely. I might never have known where to find you, if Takazuru hadn't come to me in tears to say how badly you've been treating her."

  "Well, I have been hard on her, I suppose. But she isn't as clever as you-or as pretty, for that matter. If you've been thinking I'm angry with you, you're quite right."

  "May I ask what I have done to make an old friend so angry?"

  Here Nobu stopped and turned to me with a terribly sad look in his eyes. I felt a fondness welling up in me that I've known for ve
ry few men in my life. I was thinking how much I had missed him, and how deeply I had wronged him. But though I'm ashamed to admit it, my feelings of fondness were tinged with pity.

  "After a considerable amount of effort," he said, "I have discovered the identity of your danna."

  "If Nobu-san had asked me, I would have been glad to tell him."

  "I don't believe you. You geisha are the most close-mouthed group of people. I asked around Gion about your danna, and one after another they all pretended not to know. I never would have found out, if I hadn't asked Michizono to come entertain me one night, just the two of us."

  Michizono, who was about fifty at the time, was a sort of legend in Gion. She wasn't a beautiful woman, but she could sometimes put even Nobu in a good mood just from the way she crinkled her nose at him when she bowed hello.

  "I made her play drinking games with me," he went on, "and I won and won until poor Michizono was quite drunk. I could have asked her anything at all and she would have told me."

  "What a lot of work!" I said.

  "Nonsense. She was very enjoyable company. There was nothing like work about it. But shall I tell you something? I have lost respect for you, now that I know your danna is a little man in uniform whom no one admires."

  "Nobu-san speaks as if I have any choice over who my danna is. The only choice I can ever make is what kimono I'll wear. And even then-"

  "Do you know why that man has a desk job? It's because no one trusts him with anything that matters. I understand the army very well, Sayuri. Even his own superiors have no use for him. You may as well have made an alliance with a beggar! Really, I was once very fond of you, but-"

  "Once? Is Nobu-san not fond of me any longer?"

  "I have no fondness for fools."

  "What a cold thing to say! Are you only trying to make me cry? Oh, Nobu-san! Am I a fool because my danna is a man you can't admire?"

  "You geisha! There was never a more irritating group of people. You go around consulting your almanacs, saying, 'Oh, I can't walk toward the east today, because my horoscope says it's unlucky!' But then when it's a matter of something affecting your entire lives, you simply look the other way."

  "It's less a matter of looking the other way than of closing our eyes to what we can't stop from happening."

  "Is that so? Well, I learned a few things from my talk with Michizono that night when I got her drunk. You are the daughter of the okiya, Sayuri. You can't pretend you have no influence at all. It's your duty to use what influence you have, unless you want to drift through life like a fish belly-up on the stream."

  "I wish I could believe life really is something more than a stream that carries us along, belly-up."

  "All right, if it's a stream, you're still free to be in this part of it or that part, aren't you? The water will divide again and again. If you bump, and tussle, and fight, and make use of whatever advantages you might have-"

  "Oh, that's fine, I'm sure, when we have advantages."

  "You'd find them everywhere, if you ever bothered to look! In my case, even when I have nothing more than-I don't know-a chewed-up peach pit, or something of the sort, I won't let it go to waste. When it's time to throw it out, I'll make good and certain to throw it at somebody I don't like!"

  "Nobu-san, are you counseling me to throw peach pits?"

  "Don't joke about it; you know perfectly well what I'm saying. We're very much alike, Sayuri. I know they call me 'Mr. Lizard' and all of that, and here you are, the loveliest creature in Gion. But that very first time I saw you at the sumo tournament years ago-what were you, fourteen?-I could see what a resourceful girl you were even then."

  "I've always believed that Nobu-san thinks me more worthy than I really am."

  "Perhaps you're right. I thought you had something more to you, Sayuri. But it turns out you don't even understand where your destiny lies. To tie your fortunes to a man like the General! I would have taken proper care of you, you know. It makes me so furious to think about it! When this General is gone from your life, he'll leave nothing for you to remember him by. Is this how you intend to waste your youth? A woman who acts like a fool is a fool, wouldn't you say?"

  If we rub a fabric too often, it will quickly grow threadbare; and Nobu's words had rasped against me so much, I could no longer maintain that finely lacquered surface Mameha had always counseled me to hide behind. I felt lucky to be standing in shadow, for I was certain Nobu would think still less of me if he saw the pain I was feeling. But I suppose my silence must have betrayed me; for with his one hand he took my shoulder and turned me just a fraction, until the light fell on my face. And when he looked me in the eyes, he let out a long sigh that sounded at first like disappointment.

  "Why do you seem so much older to me, Sayuri?" he said after a moment. "Sometimes I forget you're still a girl. Now you're going to tell me I've been too harsh with you."

  "I cannot expect that Nobu-san should act like anyone but Nobu-san," I said.

  "I react very badly to disappointment, Sayuri. You ought to know that. Whether you failed me because you're too young or because you aren't the woman I thought... either way you failed me, didn't you?"

  "Please, Nobu-san, it frightens me to hear you say these things. I don't know if I can ever live my life by the standards you use for judging me..."

  "What standards are those, really? I expect you to go through life with your eyes open! If you keep your destiny in mind, every moment in life becomes an opportunity for moving closer to it. I wouldn't expect this sort of awareness from a foolish girl like Takazuru, but-"

  "Hasn't Nobu-san been calling me foolish all evening?"

  "You know better than to listen to me when I'm angry."

  "So Nobu-san isn't angry any longer. Then will he come to see me at the Ichiriki Teahouse? Or invite me to come and see him? In fact, I'm in no particular hurry this evening. I could come in even now, if Nobu-san asked me to."

  By now we had walked around the block, and were standing at the entrance to the teahouse. "I won't ask you," he said, and rolled open the door.

  I couldn't help but let out a great sigh when I heard this; and I call it a great sigh because it contained many smaller sighs within it-one sigh of disappointment, one of frustration, one of sadness... and I don't know what else.

  "Oh, Nobu-san," I said, "sometimes you're so difficult for me to understand."

  "I'm a very easy man to understand, Sayuri," he said. "I don't like things held up before me that I cannot have."

  Before I had a chance to reply, he stepped into the teahouse and rolled the door shut behind him.

  chapter twenty-seven

  During the summer of that year, 1939, I was so busy with engagements, occasional meetings with the General, dance performances, and the like, that in the morning when I tried to get up from my futon, I often felt like a bucket filled with nails. Usually by midafternoon I managed to forget my fatigue, but I often wondered how much I was earning through all my efforts. I never really expected to find out, however, so I was quite taken aback when Mother called me into her room one afternoon and told me I'd earned more in the past six months than both Hatsumomo and Pumpkin combined.

  "Which means," she said, "that it's time for you to exchange rooms with them."

  I wasn't as pleased to hear this as you might imagine. Hatsumomo and I had managed to live side by side these past few years by keeping away from each other. But I regarded her as a sleeping tiger, not a defeated one. Hatsumomo certainly wasn't going to think of Mother's plan as "exchanging rooms"; she was going to feel that her room had been taken away from her.

  When I saw Mameha that evening, I told her what Mother had said to me, and mentioned my fears that the fire inside Hatsumomo might flare up again.

  "Oh, well, that's fine," said Mameha. "That woman won't be beaten once and for all until we see blood. And we haven't seen it yet. Let's give her a bit of a chance and see what sort of a mess she makes for herself this time."

  Early the next
morning, Auntie came upstairs in the okiya to lay down the rules for moving our belongings. She began by taking me into Hatsumomo's room and announcing that a certain corner now belonged to me; I could put anything I wanted there, and no one else could touch it. Then she brought Hatsumomo and Pumpkin into my smaller room and set up a similar space for the two of them. After we'd swapped all our belongings, the move would be complete.

  I set to work that very afternoon carrying my things through the hall. I wish I could say I'd accumulated a collection of beautiful objects as Mameha probably had by my age; but the mood of the nation had changed greatly. Cosmetics and permanents had recently been banned as luxuries by the military government-though of course those of us in Gion, as playthings of the men in power, still did more or less as we pleased. Lavish gifts, however, were almost unheard of, so I'd accumulated nothing more over the years than a few scrolls, inkstones, and bowls, as well as a collection of stereoscopic photos of famous views, with a lovely viewer made of sterling silver, which the Kabuki actor Onoe Yoegoro XVII had given to me. In any case, I carried these things across the hall-along with my makeup, undergarments, books, and magazines-and piled them in the corner of the room. But as late as the following evening, Hatsumomo and Pumpkin still hadn't begun moving their things out. On the way back from my lessons at noon on the third day, I made up my mind that if Hatsumomo's bottles and ointments were still crowded together on the makeup stand, I would go ask Auntie to help me.

  When I reached the top of the stairs, I was surprised to see both Hatsumomo's door and mine standing open. A jar of white ointment lay broken on the hallway floor. Something seemed to be amiss, and when I stepped into my room, I saw what it was. Hatsumomo was sitting at my little table, sipping at what looked like a small glass of water-and reading a notebook that belonged to me!

  Geisha are expected to be discreet about the men they know; so you may be puzzled to hear that several years earlier while still an apprentice, I'd gone into a paper store one afternoon and bought a beautiful book of blank pages to begin keeping a diary about my life. I wasn't foolish enough to write down the sorts of things a geisha is never expected to reveal. I wrote only about my thoughts and feelings. When I had something to say about a particular man, I gave him a code name. So for example, I referred to Nobu as "Mr. Tsu," because he sometimes made a little scornful noise with his mouth that sounded like "Tsu!" And I referred to the Chairman as "Mr. Haa," because on one occasion he'd taken in a deep breath and let it out slowly in a way that sounded like "Haa," and I'd imagined him waking up beside me as he said it-so of course, it made a strong impression on me. But I'd never thought for a moment that anyone would see the things I'd written.