Interview with the author and artist of
THE FOURTH TREASURETHE FOURTH TREASURE elegantly links two topics that don’t cry out their affinity for one another--Japanese calligraphy and neuroscience. How did the concept for the book come about?
While I was studying cognitive science at Cal, in Berkeley, my wife Linda began lessons in Japanese calligraphy. She described to me how calligraphy is largely a mental exercise, and how it tries to blend the subconscious and conscious dimensions of the mind into a unified power. Cognitive science, in particular neuroscience, is also interested in these dimensions, obviously on a very different level. Still, there are similarities between the art and the science I found quite stunning and tried to capture them in the novel.
You are both a writer and full-time professor researching artificial intelligence. How do you balance the two?
Quite often, not very well. Both take the energy of full-time jobs. Plus teaching is another full-time job, except we do get long breaks during the year from the classroom. I make time in the mornings to do my writing. For some reason it’s easier for me to do programming and research later in the day than writing. Different kinds of brain activity, I assume. Although the older I get the harder it is to switch from one to the other.
Refreshingly, none of the characters in the book seem explicitly autobiographical, though the whole book is obviously infused with your learning and cultural heritage. Do you identify with any particular characters more than others? And two of the central characters are women--19-year-old Tina and her immigrant mother. Were they difficult to create and inhabit as a writer?
I relate mostly to characters who are on the “outside,” probably because I moved around a fair number of times when growing up, and have traveled to many countries. I seem to feel most in touch with myself when I’m on the outside looking in. In The Fourth Treasure, both Tina and her mother encounter those situations, so I could create those scenes with some veracity. As for writing women characters, I don’t find it especially difficult because my writing focuses more on emotions that affect any individual, regardless of their gender.
You’re third generation Japanese-American, but a good portion of this book takes place in Japan (as did all of your last book). How did you pull that off? Have you spent a lot of time in Japan? Do you speak or read Japanese? And did the sections set in historical Kyoto take a lot research? What kind?
My grandfather on my dad’s side was born in Japan and immigrated to the US in the early 1900s, so I’m third-generation American of Japanese ancestry. My mom’s side is a mixed European background, so I’m a classic Eurasian. Unfortunately, I speak and read very little Japanese, although I knew a lot more when I lived in Japan in the mid-80s. I’ve traveled to Japan a few times besides living there, and spent most of my time there in Tokyo or Kyoto, and a small town near Mt. Fuji. I also read almost everything about Japan that comes out in English.
You are also the author of a forthcoming book on Japanese aesthetics. Can you talk a little about this, and how it might have affected THE FOURTH TREASURE?
I’m working on a book about ‘mono no aware,’ an old Japanese aesthetic term that defines a relationship between objects or events and the emotions we express when we experience them. The literal translation is “the inherent sadness of things.” ‘Mono no aware’ is about the hidden corners of things, the deeper meanings, not the superficial reactions we might have to something that affects us. A ‘mono no aware’ occurrence is not sentimental or symbolic, but rather a true feeling that floats calmly throughout the mind and body. It’s what we feel when we experience something that makes us exclaim “oh!” My writing is influenced by this notion tremendously; I’m always trying to achieve it, but it’s very difficult to pull off.
There’s also a major recurring riff in the book about medicinal marijuana. Is this an issue you feel strongly about? Are you a serious pothead?
When we lived in California medicinal marijuana was a big issue, and the ballot initiative passed that legalized it. There are still a lot of problems getting it to work well for the right people. I didn’t put the issue in the book because I’m an advocate (although I do support it), or a serious pothead. Rather, the marijuana angle ties some of the characters, and their storylines, together, as well as provides some comic relief.
Illustration and prose are bound tightly together in this novel and your first one. You’re the writer, your wife the illustrator. How does that work? Are you both pursuing sort of a collective vision, or are they two separate but complementary visions that bounce off one another in the creative process? Does it get tense? (I’d love to get Linda’s answer to this one, too.)
From Todd:
Of course, it always helps to have someone to bounce ideas off. And it works even better to have Linda closely involved in the book, because she knows the story and characters well and can provide excellent feedback. Her art is very inspiring too, often taking the story in directions I couldn’t have developed on my own. On the other hand, collaboration works for us because we have two very separate roles in the project. If we were both writers, I don’t think we could work together that way.
From Linda:
Since Todd and I first met, we’ve always enjoyed working together on a story, Todd would provide the words and I would create the images. In every project we try to let the words add more dimension to the images and the images go deeper and reveal things the words don’t convey. It’s always our hope at the completion of a project that the story would not be fully told without the images, and the images would not be fully understood without the story. As cozy as all of this sounds, Todd and I do not like sitting down together and hammering out who will do what. We prefer to work more instinctually. Not to mention, that much looking over one another’s shoulders would result in divorce, I’m sure. I trust Todd’s writing abilities and he respects my artistic abilities, so we don’t have much occasion to step on each other’s toes. It also helps that I can’t write and Todd can’t draw; there’s job security for both of us.
What we do, what we talk about, what we dream about together generally encompasses the next story we’re working on. One of us will start rambling about something that’s taken hold of our thoughts, and if the other finds it intriguing too, we’ll be off and running with an idea. We put our heads together many times talking about the overall idea, then start developing a way to get that idea across with words and images. At this point, we don’t really work together much except to touch base on what we’re obsessing about as far as the story. We don’t plan things out together, preferring to scheme in our separate corners. I usually know a few of the characters (always the main character) and will serve as sounding board to what they’re doing and how they’re carrying out our initial vision. Todd will listen to me rant about the art I’m producing and nod, mostly to quiet me down I think.
Once we’ve both finished our parts of the project, I usually read the story, get goose bumps because I start to see how the images I’ve been creating will weave into the story. I then place the images in the story, give the manuscript back to Todd, and it’s his turn to get goose bumps. The bringing together of our two parts is always quite magical, I think. So far this is how all of our projects have progressed.
And two questions for Linda:
You are an artist who works largely in a Japanese calligraphic style, but are not yourself of Japanese heritage. Did your interest in Japanese art pre-date your relationship with Todd And how did it develop?
I became very interested in Asian art and design at university, taking several courses. By the time I met Todd, I’d developed a strong interest and was influenced in my art and design work by the clean, stark, serene lines of Asian art When I first met Todd, I didn’t even notice he was Japanese, being much more intrigued by the fact that he was a writer than anything else. It didn’t dawn on me that he was Japanese until we went on a date to a Japanese restaurant and Todd had a stool at the sushi bar that seemed to be permanently reserved for him. It was then I thought: Oh, he’s Japanese.
Todd was brought up in a family and lifestyle similar to mine, and I would say that we both had about the same amount of appreciation and knowledge of Japanese art and culture when we first met. It wasn’t until we visited and then lived in Japan that the strong influence Japanese art and culture has on us developed into something deeper. It was as if being in Japan made all of our appreciation seem real and tangible. Being in Japan was fascinating for me, having studied and admired Japanese aesthetics for years. Being in Japan for Todd seemed to release something in him culturally, to realize that this was his heritage. Todd found it difficult to write about Japan when we lived there, but once we got back to the States, his focus in writing turned to Japanese themes.
As for my art, I continue to experiment more and more. I’ve worked with this for so long that it feels like a part of me, who I am. I love the immediacy of it, the clean execution required for the pieces I do. I’m also a long, hard thinker of things, so I like spending time before I actually pick up a brush (or whatever I’m using) to plot the idea out, figure out what I’m wanting to say, and the best way to get it down in an image.
A lot of the written part of THE FOURTH TREASURE is about the history and art of Japanese calligraphy. Did you make special contributions to these parts? And what and how long did it take for you to feel comfortable expressing yourself through shodo?
Probably my biggest contribution to the written part about Japanese calligraphy was just being there in front of Todd practicing and he being overtly curious about what I was doing and why. The whole practice of shodo is very unique to any other type of art or medium that I’ve worked in. It requires strong concentration, a full commitment to the act of painting ink on paper, and is very much tied to how I’m feeling at that moment. I tried to impart this strong component of coordinating my mental and emotional efforts with the physical act of painting to Todd. There are tricks to learn too (such as the best type of paper and its roughness, getting the right amount of ink on the brush, preening the brush bristles to get the stroke I want) that I relayed to Todd as he was writing the calligraphy sensei’s journal. And as Todd selected which kanji to use for the journal, I would add anything I’d encountered or mused about regarding that particular kanji.
I’d always been very interested in kanji and how it was developed. I find it fascinating that the written words were actually pictures. I became interested in the history behind how a simple picture developed into a written language; the permutations some of the kanji have gone through is very entertaining, and very telling in a historical sense. During this time, I was taking yoga from an instructor who was also a shodo teacher. I decided to take lessons and learn how to use the shodo brush. In the past, I’d often imitated the shodo brush, but felt it was time to stop being a fraud and really learn it. I dutifully took lessons (for about a year), but as in most Japanese arts, it’s understood from the beginning that it will take a lifetime to learn, never hoping to master. Once I felt comfortable with the strange way to hold the brush and the unique properties of the sumi ink and washi paper, I felt ready to go crazy on my own. It’s then that I started experimenting with the brush and the traditional strokes, tweaking both to fit my style.
As an artist I’ve always known the simplest and best understood way for me to communicate is through the images I create. Using a shodo brush allows for quick, immediate, and intense expression, catching the feeling I have or the point I’m trying to make right then and there, on the paper. I’ve expanded my use of the brush to include colored inks and pairing the traditional ink with other media (pastels, markers, pencils, acrylic paint). I also use a variety of brush and paper sizes, getting the feel of making that stroke with my whole body over a wide expanse.
