- In the meantime, she had decided that he was her project and followed him around at every opportunity
- They invariably got in trouble when drunk
- She was relentless when it came to what she wanted. She already thought he was too square.
- They milled around the reception
- She touched his upper arm as if to calm him. He looked flustered
- She brightened for a moment, then looked disappointed again
- he had to smile, having missed even her petulance
- She laughed and swallowed a thimbleful of wine
- “I am not a prostitute. I pour drinks and make conversation with incredibly boring men and make them feel fascinating.”
- She replied tartly
- He closed his eyes. She was right; this felt like hunger. It had been nothing short of physical pain when she had left him, and he’d had no words to describe her departure. He loved Phoebe, but it wasn’t what he’d felt for Hana.
- You will never tire of me
- “Okay,” she said weakly. She had finished the second bottle already. She felt awake but heavy, like her limbs were soaked through
- “Compassionate of you. Quite liberal and tolerant of me not to be upset that your ex is calling you drunk when she’s a professional sex worker. Either I’m confident in my value, or I’m confident in our relationship, or I’m just ignorant of the fact that you’re going to hurt my feelings when you return to a troubled yong damsel whom I know you’re interested in rescuing.”
- Incensed her
- After some cajoling
- Less parochial
- He was both a local and a foreigner, with the useful knowledge of the native and the financial privileges of an expatriate
- Enjoy his status and privileges
- She’d shout, relating one of the bigotry anecdotes of her day
- Curious historical anomaly and the pervasive ethnic bias
- They were incredulous at the thought that the friendly, well-mannered Japanese they knew could ever think she was somehow criminal, lazy, filthy or aggressive - the negative stereotypical traits of Koreans in Japan
- Their differences seemed that much more pronounced
- Despite his bespoke suits and elegant Tokyo dialect, his English speech pattern was pure American frat boy
- Eyed him with suspicion as a wealthy man’s son
- There was no need to keep rehashing the past; he hoped she would get over it eventually
- Whenever he played cards, he felt strong and smooth, like he couldn’t lose
- Sweeping the money toward him in an easy, practiced manner
- He retorted
- He bowed theatrically
- Capable of holding a grudge and taking vengeance at the most opportune moment
- He smiled tentatively
- Less bigotry at the offices of a western bank
- Scanning the dark streets for a taxi
- He wrinkled his brow in resignation, like he was somewhat concerned about life’s inequities but not very
- He looked at him soberly
- His stare remained unbroken
- Perhaps it was unspoken, even to himself, but he did want to be good at something
- Merits another discussion entirely
- He faced him squarely
- Hold up progress
- No one came outside or stirred within
- Around his family, he felt younger than usual, almost giddy
- Beaming
- She loved being with his family. It was much smaller than her own, but everyone seemed closer, as if each member were organically attached to one seamless body, whereas her enormous extended family felt like cheerfully mismatched Lego bricks in a large bucket.
- His family was warm but far more muted and intensely watchful. None of them seemed to miss anything.
- The mixing bowl was filled with creamy pancake batter flecked with thin slices of scallion and chunks of scallops
- It seemed inconceivable to them that a Korean mother didn’t cook for her family
- The fact that none of them cooked Korean food was a point of pride
- She found it amusing to see their continuing shock and disbelief at such a mundane detail of her childhood
- More curious than reproachful
- They wouldn’t have to labor the way they did
- He didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by what he did for a living
- Suppressing his shock at her altered appearance
- The skeleton of her body made a distinct impression through the thin blue hospital sheet
- Just hearing her voice and sitting in her room where she couldn’t float away from him reminded him of everything magical and shining about her. He had been in her thrall, and oddly, even now, he felt so many things. He wanted to pick her up and spirit her away to New York. In America, everything seemed fixable, and in Japan, difficult problems were to be endured.
- She had apparently hated that expression, and suddenly he understood her rage against this cultural resignation that violated her beliefs and wishes.
- He grew quiet, never having admitted this to anyone. Sometimes he’d forget about that time, but being with her made the memory sharp and mean
- Her eyes fluttered lightly, and she leaned back into the pillow
- Something inside him hurt, and the ache felt familiar
- He made a face like he was tasting something sour
- Innumerable times he had spent in his presence
- He had this remarkable clarity about the world
- the cook had a deft hand with the seasonings, and his curries were unrivalled in the city
- He was telling one of his funny stories while making clownish faces and dramatic hand gestures. All the while, they nodded and smiled at him, encouraging him to continue
- Scarcely bothering to turn from clearing the tables, the diminutive waitress bellowed
- The edge of his eyes crinkled deeply when he smiled
- He said nothing; he was staring at the lower half of his face, which seemed fixed; the boy’s lips made a thin, crumpled line above his chin.
- He grunted in disbelief
- He appeared unconsoled
- He studied her face and nodded almost imperceptibly, because he understood the boy’s silence
- He was visibly irritated
- Her teasing made him feel sad. He missed her already. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this lonesome before.
- “I’ve done terrible things,” she said drily
- The trace of flirtation remained in her still-lithe movements. He wanted to remember this little thing forever.
- slumped in the rented leather armchair, he could barely face her. He wasn’t sure what kind or reaction he’d expected from her, but he was surprised by how unruffled she was by the news. She seemed almost pleased.
- He glanced up at her placid profile, then dropped his head back again on the back of the armchair
- He was dumbstruck. She had managed to encapsulate his entire relationship with him from that brief, almost nonexistent encounter at the food court. How had she done this?
- His family had hinted on innumerable occasions that he wanted to marry her and that he should marry her; the only person who hadn’t said so explicitly was the man himself.
- His head lay immobile on the back of the chair.
- Her confidence and self-possession had mesmerised him in college. Her equanimity, which had seemed so important in the States, seemed like aloofness and arrogance in Tokyo.
- Leaning toward asking her to marry him
- Put forward the idea of marrying for citizenship
- He refused to make a blanket statement
- The space between Phoebe and him couldn’t close, and if he was decent, he had to let her go home
- The suitcases on the floor were brimming with clothes folded and rolled like canisters
- Highlight her vividness
- Back in New York, she had been spirited and wonderful. Here, she was almost too stark, awkward
- When she laughed at a joke, her laughter was whole.
- She was willfully ignoring him
- She rolled up another sweater and dropped it on the growing pile
- Make a clean exit
- Cordial
- He felt powerless against her decision
- His face brightened suddenly
- She had been in awe of him and his goodness. Dead, he seemed more approachable to her
- It had been eleven years since he’d died; the pain didn’t go away, but its shop edge had dulled and softened like sea glass.
- Recalling the dream was like watching another person’s life.
- He was living somewhere in Tokyo in a hospital bed under the watchful gaze of round-the-clock nurses and his daughters
- In her dreams, he was as vibrant as he had been when she was a girl
- Beyond the dailiness, there had been moments of shimmering beauty and some glory, too, even in this ahjumma’s life. Even if no one knew, it was true.
- There was consolation: the people you loved, they were always there with you, she had learned. Sometimes, she could be in front of a train kiosk or the window of a bookstore, and she could feel Noa’s small hand when he was a boy, and she would close her eyes and think of his sweet, grassy smell and remember that he had always tried his best. At those moments, it was good to be alone to hold on to him.
- He took after her more and had her plain face, but he had his father’s straight carriage and steady stride.
- Her skin was deeply grooved from the years of sun
- Her limited Japanese had deteriorated further
- I have an empty gourd for a head, and that it would have been pointless to send me to school
- He nodded with conviction at the photograph
- Looking forlorn
- Seemed hopeful about sending an old woman to school
- She tamped down the earth, then brushed the grass with her fingers.
- I was so humbled by the breadth and complexity of the people I met in Japan
- Gave me their invaluable time, keen insights, and the necessary courage to persevere
- Profound gratitude
- In what ways does a yearning for home color the tone of the novel
- Omniscient point of view
jan 19 2020 ∞
jan 19 2020 +
jan 19 2020 +