The Garden of Evening Mists Read Online Free PDF Page A

of airing unpopular subjects in public,’ I explain to Frederik.
    ‘Every time there is a movement to change our history textbooks, to remove any reference to the crimes committed by our troops, every time a government minister visits the Yasukuni shrine,’ Tatsuji says, ‘I write letters to the newspapers objecting to it.’
    ‘Your own people…’ Frederik says, ‘how have they reacted to that?’
    For a few moments Tatsuji does not speak. ‘I have been assaulted four times in the last ten years,’ he replies at last. ‘I have received death threats. But still I go on radio shows and television programmes. I tell everyone that we cannot deny our past. We have to make amends.
    We have to.’
    I bring us back to the reason for our meeting. ‘Nakamura Aritomo has been unfashionable for so long. Even when he was still alive,’ I say. ‘Why would you want to write about him now?’
    ‘When I was younger, I had a friend,’ Tatsuji says. ‘He owned a few pieces of Aritomo-sensei’s ukiyo-e . He always enjoyed telling people that they were made by the Emperor’s gardener.’ The historian kisses the rim of his cup and makes an appreciative noise. ‘Excellent tea.’
    ‘From Majuba estate,’ I tell him.
    ‘I must remember to buy some,’ Tatsuji tells Frederik.
    ‘Ooky what? The stuff Aritomo made?’ Frederik says.
    ‘Woodblock prints,’ Tatsuji replies.
    ‘Did you bring them?’ I interrupt him. ‘Those prints your friend owned?’
    ‘They were destroyed in an air-raid, along with his house.’ He waits, and when I do not say anything he continues, ‘Because of my friend, I became interested in Nakamura Aritomo.
    There is nothing authoritative written on his artworks, or his life after he left Japan; I decided to write something.’
    ‘Yun Ling doesn’t just give anyone permission to use Aritomo’s artworks, you know,’
    Frederik says.
    ‘I’m aware that Aritomo-sensei left everything he owned to you, Judge Teoh,’ Tatsuji says.
    ‘You sent this to me.’ I place the wooden stick on the table.
    ‘You know what it is?’ he asks.
    ‘It’s the handle of a tattooing needle,’ I reply, ‘used before tattooists switched to electric needles.’
    ‘Aritomo-sensei produced a completely different type of artwork, one he never disclosed to the public.’ Tatsuji reaches across the table and picks up the handle. His fingers are slender and his nails, I notice, manicured. ‘He was a horimono artist.’
    ‘A what?’ Frederik says, his cup halted halfway to his lips. His hand has a slight tremor.
    When was it that I began noticing these little signs of age in people around me?
    ‘Aritomo-sensei was more than the Emperor’s gardener.’ Tatsuji shapes the knot of his tie with his thumb. ‘He was also a horoshi , a tattoo artist.’
    I straighten my back.
    ‘There has always been a close link between the woodblock artist and the horimono master,’ Tatsuji continues. ‘They dip their buckets into the same well for inspiration.’
    ‘And what well is that?’ I ask.
    ‘A book,’ he says. ‘A novel from China, translated into Japanese in the eighteenth century. Suikoden . It became wildly popular when it was published.’
    ‘Like one of those fads that regularly drives your schoolgirls into a frenzy,’ Frederik remarks.
    ‘It was much more than that,’ Tatsuji says, raising a forefinger at Frederik before turning to me. ‘I prefer that we speak in private, Judge Teoh. If we can arrange to meet another time...’
    Frederik moves to get up, but I shake my head at him. ‘What makes you so certain that Aritomo was a tattoo artist, Tatsuji?’ I say.
    The historian glances at Frederik then looks at me. ‘A man I once knew had a tattoo on his body.’ He stops for a few seconds, gazing at emptiness. ‘He told me it had been done by Aritomo-sensei.’
    ‘And you believed him.’
    Tatsuji stares into my eyes and I am struck by the pain in them. ‘He was my friend.’
    ‘The same friend who