Yes, I know I Talk to Myself, But I'm Trying to Cut Down

. . .OK, I thought that Danielle made 2 really great points. But they're in the comments section, rather than "wide-release".

To give them their day in the sun, here they are:

On Clod's post from 6/27, danielle rose said:

I believe I was supposed to have commented on this by 8 p.m. yesterday . . . but as is typical, I'm late for everything.

Anyway, here goes:

I am conflicted over my determination regarding the movie. I felt it left a lot out that was essential to understanding the plot - but then, I had already read the book, and so my opinion is therefore skewed.

My nieces-to-be and I all watched the movie for the first time together. The one who hadn't read the book thoroughly enjoyed the movie. Katie and I, who had both read the book, were more judgmental. We didn't walk away with the warm gushy feeling we had after reading the book. I think that's what we were expecting.

I watched it again with my boyfriend.
He felt it dragged on and on.
Second time around for me, and I had to agree.
Maybe it was something we ate that night. ..

I do agree that the emotion and imagery is missing in the movie, and perhaps it was because I was looking forward to that the most that I was jaded by the movie. The other thing I wanted to see more of was the kimonos. I expected Hollywood - a flashy, gratuitous display of expensive costume and jewelry, essentially exactly what you see from geisha in Kyoto. However, the kimonos definitely took the backburner to . .. I'm not sure what. Not the emotion that shines so clearly through in the book.

Don't get me wrong, I am NOT all for verbatim retellings of the book when it comes to the movie version. But it is obvious that I missed the aspect of the book that the movie tried to run with. Perhaps it was because I was so consumed by the emotion and visual in the book...

About my post from 6/28, she said:

Well, at least I'm on time with this comment : )

I agree about the "tinny" references to wood and water. I think that they were really so important to Sayuri's life, that the movie should either include them, and the references, or perhaps leave them out all together?

There was definitely no sense that film Chiyo ever thought she would be adopted, but I am not really sure that was an essential point for moving the movie's plot forward - as you say, there are other emotional factors that did that. What you don't get, however, is a sense of Chiyo's youthful intelligence, . . .

I agree that you do feel for Chiyo when she is separated from Satsu at the Nitta Okiya (this was one of my favorite, although sad, parts - and yes, I did want to scream with Chiyo too!). I also think that (for the movie) the scene strengthens the bond between Chiyo and Auntie - after all, Auntie caused her and her sister to be separated, but she did CHOOSE Chiyo. This is important, because I don't think the strength of her relationship with Auntie is as well defined in the later scenes of Chiyo's youth.

To Which Clo Replied:

I guess my issue was more along with the lines of what Danielle touched on. I missed the child-like thought process. The reason I mentioned that opening scene of the book vs the movie was because that scene in the book was the first significant part where I felt/read the childhood innocence and I felt the impact of Chiyo's feeling of betrayal.

OK, now I feel better. . .and less like I'm talking to myself.

I'm inclined to agree that, yes, I was a smidge disappointed by the omission of some of my favorite scenes, including those with the artist Uchida Kosabura. . . and all those kimono(!). But those omissions are also what I find fascinating.

I find the transpositions of events fascinating, the compacting of characters (i.e. - why have both Mr. Itchoda and Mr. Bekku? They're so minor in terms of character-development that we don't notice the omission of Itchoda in the film, regardless of his, or another dresser's, importance in the day-to-day life of a geisha, especially one as highly regarded as Mameha). . .probably because I've become intrigued by other peoples' interpretations of things I enjoyed as much as they did.

If this film were another genre, I might describe it as a form of "fanboy" love-letter to the source material, but we have another site to do that. Regardless of what was missed, I think the filmmakers genuinely love the source material, which is a mixed blessing.

Genuinely loving your source material makes creating your interpretation difficult. If I were to make a movie of this novel, I'd call Liza Dalby first for accuracy. . .and then it would probably become a miniseries, because of all the things that we learn, yet don't learn, in the text. . .and also in the spaces between, like the Jewish tradition of midrash (for a good example of this, see The Red Tent by Anita Diamant).

Do we fill in more of our own blanks by reading? Yes.
Does viewing a film based on a novel with which we connected so deeply sometimes detract from the enjoyment of the film, the novel or both? Maybe. It really does depend upon the source material, the filmmakers and, of course, our own interpretations and attitudes in viewing the works independently, interdependently and, of course, as reflections of each other.

Let's see if we can take this anywhere in the next couple of days before we have to wrap this up and move to another book.

Looking forward to reading more from all of you,
Lizzy