Fascinating story of a celebrated Geisha. It took me several pages to grasp the culture, the content and the tone of the book.

Opening her heart to the public eye when most of the English speaking reader base has no clue what life in the Gion Kobu is like, is a challenging task. Mineko tries to give as much context as possible to keep the reader engaged.

While you cannot judge what someone puts out about their lives, as a reader I felt that I would have liked this autobiography to capture more about the woman she grew up to be. I would have liked to read more about how the world around her shaped her choices, what her perception was of the structure of the society, whether she saw things changing in her thirty years in the karyukai and other such perspectives. I would have also liked to read about her idea of the world beyond Japan - how her travels inspired her and what she thought of the cultural differences. In these it is a hit and miss.

Memoirs of a Geisha is based on the life of Mineko Iwasaki, the author of this book. While the former is fiction, this one is the true account of her life.

Being an autobiography, I expected to be credible, but when I read such passages, my trust in what follows fades into inexistence:

"The lady looked at me for a second. Her body was very still but I saw her eyes widen.[...] "You know, Mr. Tanaka, I have been looking for an atotori [...] for a very long time and I have the oddest sensation that I may have just found her." I had no idea what she was talking about. I didn't know what an atotori was or why she needed one. But I felt the energy in her body change." This at the age of 3. Wow...

There are others like this and all the introspection, clear and vivid memories, the perspicacity to read one's emotions, not to mention taking her destiny into her own hands until/at the age of 5, made me roll my eyes way too often.

Add to this a very dull writing (or maybe it's the translation, I can't tell) and the result is an incredulous and bored me abandoning the book at 23%.

As much as I loved Golden's book years ago, this was utterly dissapointing.

Non oserò mai più usare il termine geisha in modo improprio, adesso che ho imparato la distinzione tra geiko e maiko, e soprattutto non oserò più pensare che nel prezzo esorbitante delle geishe siano compresi prestazioni di natura sessuale (per quello c'erano le oiran). Che, detto tra noi, probabilmente sarebbero state meno sfiancanti delle millemila robe a cui erano tenute: apri la porta con due dita, inchinati a terra, sposta la boccetta del sake, ah no, richiudi la porta, anzi, visto che hai sbagliato, esci, riapri la porta, prostrati, richiudi la porta, prendi il sake, saluta la onesan, azz. sbagliato! esci, apri la porta, prostrati, chiudi la porta, saluta la onesan, prendi il sake, versa il sake, agita il ventaglio, alza il sopracciglio destro .... oh no, era il sinistro, reinizia tutto da capo ....
E questo era solo una millesima parte del rituale di intrattenimento, e tutte le sere la nostra Mineko si faceva almeno una decina di ozashiki a sera.

A parte il vorticare di termini giapponesi che la mia memoria plasmata all'occidentale non potrà mai ricordare, è un'autobiografia agile e ben scritta, anche se funzionale a smentire anzi smontare il libro di Golden (Memorie di una geisha, liberamente ricavato da confidenze che la Iwasaki gli aveva fatto).
Si entra in un mondo semplicemente inimmaginabile, per la complessità di rituali stratificati, di modalità comportamentali e di sacrifici fisici e mentali, oltre che di angherie di varia natura. Infatti, Mineko ne esce a 29 anni, che sono comunque tanti, se si pensa che è entrata nell’okai a 5 anni ed è diventata geiko a 12 anni.
Leggerlo in parallelo all’autobiografia di Marina Abramovich è stata un’esperienza straniante: la forza di volontà di queste due artiste è micidiale!

PS.: Non ho mai visto una danza rituale mai (se non adesso su youtube), uno spettacolo dell’Opera di Pechino, a Pechino, mi è bastato per capire che la mia sensibilità non è sufficientemente sviluppata per godere delle millemila sfumature di una foglia che cade (cit. Calvino).

Although I am very interested in the Geisha culture I found this book to be a very dry telling of Mineko's life as a geiko. Not only did this memoir have no real flow Mineko herself came off as a very arrogant person who rather than trying to prove Arthur Golden's information from "Memoirs of a Geisha" wrong, just put together a story of how popular, beautiful and multi talented she was.
She wrote this book with the intention of informing the reader of "what it is really like to be a geisha" and how she found it too constricting to continue resulting in her retirement and attempting to help other Geisha form their own path but never really explained if she ever did end up challenging this system as well as telling the reader the exorbitant amounts of money she earned but not helping her family out with their debts.
Although the Geisha sub-culture is one of the most interesting sub-cultures there are Mineko's memoir was dry, self praising and lacked the substance that "Memoirs of a Geisha" had and for that I give this book 2 stars.

I was eager to read this, so eager that I read it in French--the only copy I could find. The translation from English (and previously of course from Japanese) was easy to read, in spite of a couple of hiccups--as a former professional translator myself, I know those are impossible to avoid. The French translation must be gentler than the English version, as there is quite a lot of self-deprecating humour included in the tales of her beginnings as maiko, and her bid for independence when she gets her first apartment at twenty-one and tries to learn to shop and cook for herself.

An odd book, by an odd person. We learn that from toddlerhood until well into adolescence, the author voluntarily spent hours if not days on end shut up in any cupboard within reach. Wouldn't a normal parent, realising they are bigger than the child, just lift her out of there? We also learn that well after the age of 5 she "needs" to suckle someone to be able to fall asleep--and is allowed to do so by her onesan or the maid, for quite some time, though neither of them have any of your actual breastmilk (the onesan being by this time past middle-age). Hmmmm.

The beginning of the book is confusing; first we are told Mineko accepted adoption into the world of Gion because she just had to be a dancer; then we find out she was only about five or six when she left her parents to be adopted legally by the teahouse. She seemed to do this out of a sense of economic responsibility to her parents--who, by the way, basically sold three of their daughters into Gion, though they hung onto all their male children. I'm sure Mineko tells it the way she chooses to remember it, but how can such a young child make such a life-changing decision and really know what she is doing?

I can only imagine that either "everyone" in Japan knows so much about what it means to become a geiko that she didn't feel the need to go into much detail, or that Gion is a closed world, where those who don't "belong" aren't meant to know. She does talk about kimonos, hairstyles, ceremonial passages from one stage to another, but it's all pretty superficial. In fact, the most important changes in her life (taking on an "older sister/mother", "turning her collar") are mentioned only in passing; you can get more detail from reading Geisha. Even in Dalby's book mizua-age is referred to as a sexual initiation; beyond saying this is not true, and saying she herself had the rite, no more is said. And no, I'm not terribly interested in that aspect.
What is clear is that from a very young age the author knew how confined and rigid the world of a Kyoto geisha was in the 1950s, when she joined it; so why did she continue there? We're told that she repeatedly tried to change conditions for the geiko, and "no one listened"--well, what did she expect? In the end, it all comes down to economics; she tells the reader just how extremely lucrative it was to be a geiko at the time she was practically Kyoto's poster-child.I did recognise the photographs of Mineko, and thought "I've seen those pictures somewhere before." It's kind of a "poor little rich girl" or teen rock-star story; yes, those kimonos (which weighed nearly half what she did!) and accesories are wildly expensive, but anyone who can buy not one but two "immense" apartments in exclusive areas of Kyoto before the age of 30 is not doing very badly. The author does explain that this is why geiko are not prostitutes--they are so hugely well paid, they don't need to sell their bodies, though some accept kept-woman status--or did in the days the big businessmen could afford it. She would have the reader believe that she worked and rehearsed nonstop for nearly ten years without a single day's break--but again, no one was forcing her to work every night, she repeats several times that she was so competitive that she chose to do so. (I myself at the ages of 16-19 tried to burn the candle at both ends, and had at least one breakdown in the process. I know from experience, she had to be getting more than "one hour of sleep a night". Even with four or five, I collapsed eventually.) Other geisha certainly took time off, took vacations etc., and later in the narrative, surprise! we hear about her taking trips around Japan and the world. All memoirs are selective, this one perhaps more than some.

Bored or tired of the life she chose, she decides to retire at age 30; she says that the ochaya she was adopted to "inherit" has become worn and her geiko sisters (not her, you notice!) are "aging"--and whose fault is that? The reason she gives for rejecting the young girls who come asking to join the teahouse is, "This is such a rigid profession, no one will respect you." Why not find her own heir apparent and let them take over once they're trained? Looks like her onesan made an unfortunate choice, as Mineko is quite content to continue to delegate all administration decisions on her "mama"; at no time does she evince any understanding of what the position of heir was meant to involve, except of course her own privileges. Once her decision to leave is made, she is quick enough to bail out and start her own business(es), using the contacts she made as a geiko to ensure her own material sucess. There again, a new incoherence arises; first we are told she "left to get married"; then that she didn't meet Mr Wonderful until after she had already retired.

Three and a half stars. I had hoped to make it four, but by the end of the book I was rolling my eyes here and there at her constant "poor me" line. As a side note, if Mineko was the real "inspiration" behind Memoirs of a Geisha no wonder she was annoyed by that...text. I was too.

Non posso credere di aver già finito questa lettura.
Eppure, mi ha presa moltissimo.
Lo stile semplice e colloquiale della storia ha di certo aiutato a leggerla con una costante voglia di saperne di più. È come se avessi avuto una conversazione con Mineko, come se l'avessi conosciuta. In effetti, da un certo punto di vista, è proprio così.
Sento di aver imparato molto sul mondo complesso delle Geisha, ho abbattuto "pregiudizi" infondati e confermato il mio amore per la cultura giapponese, così affascinante e particolare.
Insomma, è una lettura che consiglio.
Non do 5 stelle perché purtroppo l'edizione italiana in mio possesso ha alcune sviste (come parole mancanti, punteggiatura dimenticata, parole ridondanti).

Fascinating! Mineko Iwasaki's memoir provides intimate details into the life of a maiko and her transition to geiko. Iwasaki lived an interesting life. Although there are some doubts about her version of events, here stories are entertaining nonetheless. For example, she wrote about how she was offended that Queen Elizabeth refused to eat any of the dishes prepared for her at an event they attended together, so she spent the night flirting with Prince Charles. Is it true? Who knows, but it made me laugh.

Geisha are women who devote themselves to Japan's classical arts. They earn income and are able to make their own decisions about their careers. Iwasaki retired because of the conservative ruling authorities over geisha practices and certifications that limited their independence and art. I would be interested to read about how the community has changed since her retirement.

Kokia nuostabi moteris. Tiesa, knyga pilna įdomių faktų apie geišos gyvenimą, tradicijas, istoriją, tad nesuklys nei vienas, besidomintis japonų kultūra, paėmęs šią knygą į rankas, bet labiau už viską mane sužavėjo pati Mineko Iwasaki. Kuo daugiau puslapių buvau perskaičiusi, tuo labiau ja žavėjausi. Ji sunkiai dirbanti, nuo mažens paisė kas jai yra sakoma, vertino jai suteiktas žinias, o suklydusi tuoj pat atsitiesdavo ir dirbdavo dar sunkiau, užpuolikus pamokydavo, kad moteris nėra daiktas, o Karalienės akivaizdoje ieškojo žmogiškumo, o ne aukštos padėties. Per gyvenimą išliko žmogiška, rūpestinga ir teisinga. Džiugu žinoti, kad esama tokių žmonių pasaulyje.

This was fascinating! Iwasaki tries to address the many misconceptions about geishas’ lives that we hear in the West. Her memoirs feel like a subtle but powerful critique of Golden’s novel and of the (misplaced) fascination for geishas Westerners show. Iwasaki offers a clear and (what feels like) an authentic description of Kyoto and geisha culture, but she is not afraid to show some hard and sometimes shocking truths. Rather than to read Golden’s Memoirs of a geisha, I would definitely advice to read this book instead.

Mi è piaciuto conoscere un po' di più il mondo di queste artiste e la cultura del popolo Giapponese.
Ho trovato interessante le notizie storiche, e mi ha emozionato molto la vicenda umana.

Like many others, I loved ‘Memoirs of a Geisha’ and apparently that book was based on interviews that Arthur Golden had with Mineko Iwasaki but once released, Iwasaki was so horrified with what Golden had written that she decided to write her own account. ‘Geisha of Gion’ is her telling of her life.

Iwasaki was a geisha (she refers to herself as a geiko, a more specific term used in the area of Kyoto where she lived and trained) starting in the 1960's, and was the most successful of her time (her words). We learn that to be the most successful geiko you need to take every single appointment available, not take a single day off for five years, and sleep only three hours every night. She retired at the age of twenty-nine because she found that the lifestyle grew too restrictive and her efforts to implement change were ignored. We start with Iwasaki’s childhood, where she was first recruited to be a geiko at only three years old. Her training was hard and relentless and she made the decision at the age of seven to be adopted by the okiya she worked for and she made her debut at the age of fifteen.

The detail in this book is extensive. We learn about the history, styles of dance, her clothing, her hair styles, etiquette, how to behave and all of the practical information she was required to take on board. Some of this detail became clinical to me and I found myself wanting to skim-read some parts. The writing style is dry and often jumps from scene to scene with little warning and I found myself really disliking Iwasaki even when she was a child. She has a high level of arrogance and the bulk of the novel is spent discussing how beautiful, talented, and loved she is. She's everyone's favourite except for the people who are jealous of her. She also appears to be brilliant at everything she tries, from dance to basketball and I found this frustrating and unrealistic. Although Iwasaki mentions trying to implement change, she doesn’t ever explain what change she was requesting or why and this felt lacking to me.

I think this book does a good job of correcting a lot of misconceptions that people have about geishas and the role of a geisha but it’s a dry read with little emotion.

I found this story fascinating, in that it described a culture very far removed from the casual way we live in Britain today. Formalities were so important, even for the children, and this girl chose for herself to leave her own family and join the house of Geisha to be trained as one, and endure all the hardships involved. She was obviously very very motivated and determined, and seemed happy most of the time. It is written in the voice of a child, though maybe this is due to translating from Japanese. In the end however, she left the ochaya, if that is the right word, and married happily.