Realia - Hardcover

Aitken, Will

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0679310401 ISBN 13: 9780679310402

Publisher: Random House Canada, 2000

Synopsis

Louise Painchaud is a lanky, lusty Albertan woman who sticks out wherever she goes. But never has she been more painfully obvious than in Japan, where her height, her bulk, and her Western directness make her the object of giggles and stares. This is the Japan of the eighties, flush with money, wild with possibility, afflicted with a severe case of self-worship -- expressed most vividly in the country's adoration of a slim golden pop star named Oro.

Louise is hired as an English language and dialogue coach by the School of Heartful Purity, an institution dedicated to staging kitschy Western musicals with Japanese all-girl casts. And there the gaijin giantess ends up playing Eurydice to the tiny Oro's Orpheus in a love affair that scandalizes the nation. Realia mixes Japanese pop culture and Greek myth, crossdressing Japanese girls and muscular Japanese stuntmen, wild monkeys and earthquakes, speeding Maseratis and a woman who'll try anything twice. A sexy, funny, irreverent, no-holds-barred work of fiction, Realia also explores how pop culture becomes contemporary myth, and how ancient myth still feeds the heart of pop culture.

About this title

About the Author

Will Aitken was born in Indiana and came to McGill in 1972. From then on, he made Montreal his home, co-founding the city's first gay and lesbian bookstore, Librairie L'Androgyne, in 1974. He has worked as a writer and broadcaster for the CBC, the BBC and National Public Radio in the U.S., and as a journalist for The Globe and Mail and The National Post, among many other publications. He also teaches cinema and has published two novels, Terre Haute (1989) and A Visit Home (1993).

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Everyone at Akasaka Pearl Hotel speak English. No problem. Right away. I rush along gently curving corridors. Where do they keep the fucking ice machine? Maids step behind their carts and bow as I pass. Something like "Ohio" springs joyously to their lips. "Ohio," I call back, feeling like an extra in a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical. Part of each floor-to the left of the elevators-seems set aside for people like me. Not Westerners necessarily, but people who dress like Westerners. As far as I can determine I am the only Westerner at Akasaka Pearl, which everyone affects not to notice. I return the favor. I would like, however, some ice. I know it's seven a.m., but not on my time goddammit. A big plastic barrel of ice for the bottle of cognac I picked up at duty-free.

I like it iced.The bronze elevator doors open. A bellhop strides out, straightening his pillbox cap. "Ice," I call out to him. "Ice!" he smiles, bows, heads off down the corridor. I trot along at his heels, the ice machine surely but yards away. Halfway down the hall he knocks at a door. Ice. It swings open. A man in a blue-and-white robe hands out a pair of black wingtips. Door closes, bellhop bows to dark wood, turns around to discover me staring down at him. "Ice," he assures me. Bowing low he hurries off.

Back in my room I ring room service. "Ohio," a woman answers.

"Ohio. You speak English?"

"Judamoma please."

On hold. Synthesizer version of "Home on the Range."

"How may I help you?" A man this time, we're moving up the pecking order.

Explain my simple needs.

"Only ice?"

"Only ice."

"Ah." Strange watery intake of air.

Would you mind holding?"

"Home, home on the range."

"How may I help you?" Different man. I think. Or part of an elaborate game played with foreigners.

"I would like some ice please."

"And what else?"

"Nothing else. Just a big bucket of ice. You do have ice?"

"I will send it right up."

"Thank you so much."

I study the small green pamphlet on the dressing table: WHAT TO DO IN CASE OF POTENTIAL DISASTER. Earthquake instructions. Forgot they have those here. This explains the heavy chrome flashlight in the dressing-table drawer and possibly the two identical bound volumes, one with the English title The Teachings of Buddha.

        Knock at door. Same bellboy. Probably. He holds a silver salver set with a finger bowl full of ice and two bottles of club soda.

Formal presentation of bill.

I stare dumbly at four digits preceded by a yen sign. As far as I can calculate they're asking me to pay $24 for two bottles of fizzy water and a midget's handful of ice.

"I didn't order club soda."

The bellboy slides closer to me, keeping the salver be-tween us. "Ice," he smiles.

Point to each frosty bottle and shake my head vehemently. "No club soda."

"You must."

The silver bottle caps catch the morning light. "I must?"

"For ice"-narrow index finger indicates the bowl-"you must order drink."

"Ah." With proffered pen I scribble at the bottom of the bill.

He places the tray on the dressing table and heads for the door.

"Just a moment." I press a 500-yen coin into his hand.

He studies his upturned palm, hands the coin back. "No tip."

Sit down on the bed, cool bottles sparkling on the tray before me. I pop one open and glug it down. Such pleasure courses through me. Away at last.

Edition details

• Publisher: Random House Canada
• Publication date: 2000
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 0679310401
• ISBN 13: 9780679310402
• Binding: Hardcover
• Number of pages: 272