Tuesday, December 1, 2015

When we have spoken at libraries or schools, we often hear many of the same questions. So to satisfy your curiosity (if you have any), here are some of our answers: 1) How do you pronounce the names of the characters? A. Remember that Japanese does not have diphthongs. Each vowel is pronounced separately (except when there are double vowels of the same kind.) So Seikei is Say-ee-KAY-ee. Judge Ooka does have one of those double vowels (you often see them spelled with a line over the vowel). That means you just draw out the vowel, like this: Oh-OH-ka. 2) Have you ever been to Japan? A. We have not been to present-day Japan. But we are writing about 18th-century Japan, and we have traveled there the only way you can--in books. 3) Where do you get your ideas? First, we decide what the setting of the book will be. The first one was obviously the Tokaido Road. The second was the Yoshiwara section of Tokyo, where geishas entertain far into the night. And then we start to figure out what would bring Seikei there. Once we have a general idea, we start to write. If we are doing well, the characters start to act. Often what happens is a surprise to us. Our daughter likes to recall that one day when she was teaching at Columbia University, she ran into her father (Tom) in the hallway of the library. He likes to go there to write. And he told her that he was going to find out today what was hidden in the storeroom. If you've read all the books, you know that this was the ending to A Samurai Never Fears Death.And yes, Seikei climbed the stairs to the storeroom and found...well, if you haven't read the book, we won't spoil it for you. Have you got any questions? Let us know, and we'll try to answer them.

Saturday, October 24, 2015

Fan Video

Haven't posted here in too long. Here's a video from You Tube made by fans of the series. We like it!


Tuesday, July 28, 2015

In the first book in the Samurai Detective series, Seikei tells the Judge he wasn't afraid when he saw the jikininki because a samurai is willing to face death without fear. The Judge recognizes this as advice from a book by Daidoji Yuzan. That was a very popular book among young samurai at the time. We thought it would be interesting to quote that very passage:

     The samurai, whether great or small, high or low, has to set before all other things the consideration of how to meet his inevitable end. However clever or capable he might have been, if he is upset or wanting in composure and so makes a poor showing when he comes to face it all, his previous good deeds will be like water and all decent people will despise him so that he will be covered with shame.
      For when a samurai goes out to battle and does valiant and splendid exploits and makes a great name, it is only because he made up his mind to die. And if unfortunately he gets the worst of it and he and his head have to part company, when his opponent asks for his name, he must declare it at once loudly and clearly and yield up his head with a smile on his lips and without the slightest sign of fear.

--from The Code of the Samurai, by Daidoji Yuzan, translated by A.L. Sadler (Rutland, VT: Charles E. Tuttle Co, 1988)

Monday, April 13, 2015

It's been way too long since I've posted anything on this blog. Dorothy and I have been writing a new book--not, alas, another Samurai Detective book, but a book that will be part of a series for younger readers. It's called the "What Was..." series, and is a companion to the "Who Was..." series of biographies. We also wrote a "Where Was..." book, about the Great Pyramids. That is scheduled for publication this fall. If you know any 3rd graders who like to read (or who you'd like to encourage), give it a look. Many bookstores and libraries carry the series.
We're also joining a publication project that is a "new paradigm" for publishing. That's Booktrope, in which writers, editors, proofreaders, cover designers and book managers all share the task of publishing a book. Unlike the old-fashioned type of publishing, those who create the book get the lion's share of the profits. You can read more about what we're doing on my other blog, scribblertw.blogspot.com.
To discuss Seikei and the books about him: We received some emails from students whose teacher assigned them to take roles in a discussion of "Who Is the Best Samurai in The Ghost in the Tokaido Inn."
This is actually the second time we've received emails on this topic. Either it's a recommended assignment in some teacher guide, or maybe the same teacher gives that assignment every year.
Well, the students who wrote us were assigned to defend the idea that Tomomi, the actor-thief, (spoiler alert) was the "best" samurai. They wanted us to give evidence in support of their side of the discussion.
Of course it all depends on what you mean by "best." A good samurai serves his master--indeed, he's willing to give up his life for his master. He also will give up his life to defend his honor. There are various virtues that a good samurai practices, not only the arts of warfare, but artistic appreciation as well. We don't often think of samurai this way, but a good samurai was supposed to be good at writing poetry and even flower arranging, gardening, and so forth.
We know by the end of the book that Tomomi is willing to give up his life for what he sees as his honor. Lord Hakuseki destroyed his family, and Tomomi has devoted his own life to getting revenge. We told the students who wrote us that they should take a look at the earlier part of the book, where a play called "The Forty-Seven Ronin" is presented. That has a similar theme, only it's the 47 samurai (they're called ronin now that they have no master) seek to avenge their former master, who was forced to commit suicide because another samurai taunted him into drawing his sword in the presence of the shogun. The 47 ronin were real people, and are greatly admired in Japan. By the standards of bushido (the samurai code), they are heroes.
Maybe you can think of reasons why some of the other people in the story should be considered the "best" samurai. Post them right here and we can have our own discussion.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

A Japanese Artist Shows an American Ship

I couldn't resist using this print. It shows an American steamship, sometime after Commodore Matthew Perry arrived off the Japanese town of Uraga, near Edo Bay in 1853. Perry led a small fleet of four ships, and his mission was to persuade--or force--the Japanese to open their ports to American trade. Perry's flagship, the Susquehanna, was partly powered by steam, and the Japanese had never seen a steamship (indicated in the above print by the clouds of smoke coming from a smokestack). Nor had they seen any weapons like Perry's cannons, which he fired off as a demonstration of his ship's power. Word was carried back to the shogun, and he made the fateful decision to accept Perry's demands. It was the beginning of the end for Japan's long isolation from the rest of the world. The artist of this print probably never saw one of Perry's ships, so he painted it with faces fore and aft, the way Chinese did on their ships.

Monday, January 19, 2015

How the Judge Divided Thirteen Horses

There are a lot of folk tales about Seikei's foster-father Judge Ooka that illustrate how smart he was. One of them was very like the story of King Solomon found in the Bible. Two women both claimed to be the mother of a young child. The Judge had each of them take hold one of the child's arms and then pull to see who would get the child. When the child cried out, one woman let go so she wouldn't hurt it. The Judge knew she was the mother, and gave her the child.

Another, more complicated, story concerned two powerful daimyos who had raised war horses on a farm they both owned. They quarreled and wanted to divide their property. The problem was that there were thirteen horses, and neither daimyo would sell his share to the other.

There was a second judge, named Kujo, who resented the fact that everyone said how wise Ooka was. When the argument between the two daimyos was given to Kujo, he delayed it until it was Ooka's turn to decide cases. Then he told Ooka, "This is one case you cannot solve." Ooka calmly replied, "I will do my best." Annoyed, Kujo offered to bet his own war horse that Ooka could not possibly settle the case in a way that would satisfy both men. Ooka was not normally a gambler, but he agreed, and promised to give a war horse to Kujo if the two daimyos were not satisfied with his decision.

Judge Ooka ordered the thirteen horses to be brought into a courtyard. He told Kujo to bring his own horse, and the Judge brought his best horse as well. "There are still fifteen horses," Kujo muttered, although he suspected that Ooka was going to play some trick.

When the two daimyos and their horses were assembled, the Judge said, "I thought at first that the two of you might agree to donate one horse to the shogun." The daimyos frowned, because it would be impossible to turn down such a suggestion. Kujo, however, smiled, because such a solution would not satisfy either man, and Kujo would win Ooka's horse.

"However," Ooka continued, "To do that would cause you both to lose financially, so I found another solution. I will donate my own horse to you both, making fourteen horses. Then you can divide them equally."

Both daimyos agreed to this, but Kujo interrupted. "The law says that a judge may not profit from his decisions. But you should not be required to lose anything either. If all judges did such a thing, we would all be poor."

"But I won't be losing anything," Judge Ooka replied. He pointed to the daimyos, who were already choosing which horses they wanted. "As you can see, both men are satisfied with my decision. That means I win our bet." With that he took hold of the bridle of Kujo's horse and walked away.

Monday, January 5, 2015

Hato's Ginkgo Porridge

We returned from vacation to find a letter from a fan who suggested we do more with our blog. Pictures are fine, but this fan suggested recipes, games, and mysteries that can be solved by readers. Pretty ambitious! We decided to start with a recipe for a dish that played a role in the fourth book in the series, The Sword That Cut the Burning Grass. This was ginkgo porridge, made by Hato, the servant girl who believes Seikei is really the teen-age emperor of Japan.

First we have to tell you about ginkgo nuts. They come from the female ginkgo tree. (Did you know there were both male and female ginkgo trees?) The nuts appear in autumn, with a soft yellow-green outer covering. If the fruit falls off the tree and rots, it gives off a terrible smell. This may be why most ginkgo trees people grow in their yards are male, not female.

If you're starting with the whole fruit (it's really a fruit with a nut inside), you should peel off the outer covering and throw it away. It's supposed to be mildly toxic (poisonous), so wash your hands afterward. Inside, you'll see a hard, smooth white nut case. It looks like a pistachio nut. You have to crack open this case and remove the nut inside, which has a thin covering. Drop the nut into some boiling water and cook for a few minutes. Then scrape the skin off with a spoon. Drain the water and cool the nuts. If you're not going to use them right away, store in the refrigerator.

If all this sounds like a lot of work, you can buy packages of peeled ginkgo nuts in stores that sell Chinese or Japanese food products.

Now we start with a cup of rice. Usually rice is cooked one part rice and two parts water, but to make porridge, you have to use much more liquid. Hato uses mild green tea--about ten cups of it for a cup of dried rice. Bring the liquid to a boil, add the rice, five or six ginkgo nuts and a dash of salt. Cover and cook about 40-50 minutes, until the rice is very mushy. Stir it all together, let it cool a bit, and enjoy! Hato got a job in the emperor's castle making this porridge.