As the semester and my studies of Japanese literature came to a close, I desired to visit Little Tokyo to immerse myself in Japanese culture a third time. Prior to my journey, I expected the district to emanate the Japanese garden at the Huntington in terms of size and brilliance. I sat in the passenger’s seat of my mom’s car boiling with excitement as I imagined what Little Tokyo would encompass. We steadily approached the Japanese district, and as I gazed out the window, I noticed the large stone buildings plastered with graffiti. I sat in confusion as I expected the district to reflect Japan, not the typical scenery of Downtown. I gasped as I heard my navigation exclaim, “you have reached your destination.” My mom and I attempted to discern our exact location and asked ourselves “where are the shops and markets?” We felt as though Little Tokyo hid its existence, and we embarked on a journey to uncover its whereabouts. To my surprise, the markets, stores, and cultural life lived within the nooks and crannies of the district. I later realized the organization of Little Tokyo supported the Japanese aesthetic of suggestion. Within the opening chapter of Donald Keene’s, The Pleasure of Japanese Literature, he exemplifies the concept of suggestion as he ponders, “How incomparably lovely is the moon…when it hides for a moment behind clustering clouds” (Keene 8). Keene's fascination of the covered moon exhibits beauty found within disguise and imagination. Similarly, Little Tokyo did not blatantly display liveliness; however, I could feel its presence.
We entered the Japanese Village Plaza, and I felt engulfed by the Japanese aesthetic of perishability. Wood and wood alone made up all of the surrounding buildings which accentuated the value and importance of decay within Japan. Keene writes, “The wooden buildings of frontier towns give greater aesthetic pleasure to the Japanese than age-repellent walls of brick or stone” (Keene 20). Keene identifies how materials that deteriorate overtime hold significance within the Japanese culture, exemplified by the wooden structures in the village. My mom and I slowly walked around the plaza and found wooden plaques inscribed with calligraphy placed throughout the village. I read the English translations beneath the calligraphy and immediately identified another aspect of suggestion. The calligraphy disclosed quotes which depicted certain stories without revealing the meaning or significance. One of the quotes read, “Dandelion flowers / How many good friends of mine / Sleep here, I wonder.” I referenced Keene’s text in which he states, “Beginnings that suggest what is to come, or ends that suggest what has been, allow the imagination to expand beyond the literal facts to the limits of the capacities of the reader” (Keene 9). When someone chooses not to reveal the whole, it enables the reader to draw their own conclusions and reflect upon the text. I attempted to discern the poem and wondered if the dandelions refer to the beauty of relationships that may either flourish or “sleep” and deteriorate. However, the plaque did not illustrate a clear beginning or end; thus, it stimulated my imagination and enabled me to determine what the calligraphy portrays.
Along with the presence of suggestion and perishability, the plaza also demonstrated the Japanese aesthetic of irregularity. We analyzed the display of the items of each store, and the organization of each item shocked us. For example, one clothing store arranged its items in a sporadic fashion instead of organizing by color or clothing type. The inconsistency and asymmetrical presentation of the store reflects irregularity. Keene further emphasizes this concept stating, “It is typical of the unintelligent man to insist on assembling complete sets of everything. Imperfect sets are better” (Keene 10). Within this quote, Keene illustrates how uniformity should be avoided, for the Japanese find it undesirable. As I have lived in Los Angeles my whole life and have been heavily influenced by Western culture, I found it difficult to comprehend the appeal of asymmetry. Irregularity opposes Western values and customs, yet it fit perfectly within Little Tokyo. I further developed my understanding of irregularity in my comparison of Western outlets and the stores within the Japanese village.
The lack of simplicity within the plaza's stores surprised me, as simplicity represents the fourth Japanese aesthetic value. My mom and I walked into the cosmetic/drug stores and felt overwhelmed by the variety of colors utilized within them; each wall displayed a different and opposing color. In contrast to the concept of simplicity in which Keene explains, “It is excellent for a man to be simple in his taste” (Keene 14), the walls exuded complexity as they failed to illustrate a clear and concise color scheme. I thought each outlet would use minimal colors to emphasize the idea of simplicity; thus, the use of sundry paints within the interior design dumbfounded me. I began to realize that the multitude of colors further revealed irregularity as it glorifies imperfection and disorder. Although I could not find simplicity, the presence of irregularity exceeded my expectations.
My experience in Little Tokyo expanded my knowledge of the Japanese aesthetics and helped me understand the strong influence of Western culture upon other cultures. I had a wonderful time exploring the plaza with my mom and walking through all the department stores. We fell in love with the diverse environment that surrounded the plaza as we watched people from all races and ethnicities interact with one another. I soon realized the welcoming environment the plaza fostered further reveals the core communal values within Japanese culture. This beautiful experience taught me the importance of indulging in different communities and connecting with different people to encourage a more accepting and embracing society.