Product Description

Sayo Masuda's story is an extraordinary portrait of rural life in Japan and an illuminating contrast to the fictionalised lives of glamorous geishas. At the age of six masuda's poverty-stricken family sent her to work as a nursemaid. At the age of twelve, she was indentured to a geisha house. In "Autobiography of the Geisha", Masuda chronicles a harsh world in which young women faced the realities of sex for sale and were deprived of their freedom and identity. She also tells of her life after leaving the geisha house, painting a vivid panorama of the grinding poverty of rural life in wartime Japan. Many years later Masuda decided to tell her story. Although she could barely read or write she was determined to tell the truth about life as a geisha and explode the myths surrounding their secret world. Remarkable frank and incredibly moving, this is the record of one woman's survival on the margins of Japanese society.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #30486 in Books
• Published on: 2004-02-05
• Original language: Japanese
• Binding: Paperback
• 216 pages

From the Publisher
'This engrossing and very human story-offers the reader a compelling portrait' Arthur Golden

About the Author
Sayo Masuda died in 2008. The translator G. G. Rowley teaches English and Japanese literature at Waseda University in Tokyo. She is the author of Yosano Akiko and The Tale of Genji.

Excerpted from Autobiography of a Geisha (Vintage Original S.) by Sayo Masuda, Sayo Masuda, G.G. Rowley. Copyright © 2004. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter 1

A Little Dog, Abandoned and Terrified

LITTLE CRANE THE NURSEMAID

My earliest memories are of being a nursemaid in the home of landowners in the rural district of Gohara, near Shiojiri in Nagano Prefecture. I remember almost nothing from my childhood, but these people must have been large landowners because they hired three farmhands on yearly contracts; and at busy times, such as the planting season, they would take on fifteen or sixteen more. The property was surrounded by a dense growth of trees, and there were a number of large chestnuts. I would be scolded severely for the least little thing and lived in constant fear of any sign of people. Yes, when I think back to my childhood, what first comes to my mind is a vision of myself tied to a chestnut tree after being scolded, bawling my eyes out. For some reason, caterpillars seem to fall off chestnut trees rather easily, so there were always great swarms of caterpillars scattered about under the trees; and then they would congregate at the roots and start crawling sluggishly up the trunk. I loathed caterpillars, but being tied up, I couldn't get away even when they were crawling all over my body. Almost faint with dizziness, I would weep. I think that must have been when I was about six years old.

At the time I wasn't even able to wonder why I didn't have any parents or why I should be the only one who was tormented. If you ask me what I did know then, it was only that hunger was painful and human beings were terrifying, that was all. How to hide so that people couldn't find me? How to fill my stomach? These were the only two thoughts in my life.

As for filling my stomach, I was entirely at the mercy of others for my meals. There was a chipped bowl that they left under the sink in the kitchen into which they put their leftover rice and soup. If there were lots of leftovers, then even with just that one bowl I'd be full; but if nothing had been left, then that was that. After everyone had finished eating, I would go to the kitchen and peer into the bowl, and if something was in it, I would quickly crouch under the sink and eat it.

My bed was a hempen sack stuffed with rags thrown into a corner of the storehouse. I would crawl into it legs first, the rags rustling as I pushed them apart, and go to sleep. But in the middle of the night I would have to pee. The storehouse is dark and scary. And so while I'm putting it off, I fall sleep again. Even if I had an accident, I didn't mind, because in the morning it would still be warm; but come evening when I put my legs in, it would be cold and damp and, "Oh no!" I would remember what happened the night before. It felt disgusting and I couldn't get to sleep at all; and so when that happened, I would look for a place outdoors in the shadows and sleep curled up like a dog.

But winter in the Shinshu region is cold, and so it wasn't easy. Never will I have another accident, I would think; but when night fell, inspite of myself I'd be afraid again. And so I often ended up sleeping outside. It was not only the nights that were cold. When I was minding a child, even though my back would be warm from carrying it, my feet would be as cold as ice. In winter, no matter how cold it was, I was never allowed to wear socks; and so I would lift one leg up and warm my foot on the thigh of the other leg, doing this over and over again so that I was always standing on one leg. That's how I got the nickname "Crane."

Nor was it only the adults who tormented me. If I were foolish enough to let myself be found by the children, I would always be forced to do something that I found painful. They called it "playing dog." The children would spit something out onto the ground. Then they would make me get down on all fours, bark "yap yap" and run around in circles, and then pick the thing up with my mouth. If I were to say "No!" they would do something horrible to me, stamp on my toes, pinch me, or kick me. Out of fear, I would give in. I must have made a good toy for those children.

When I first arrived there, they said I was infested with lice or something and shaved my head. I suppose it was then that the children would ask, "Hey, nurse, are you a boy or a girl?" And I would pull up my skirts and show them my bottom. In the end they found it so funny that whenever they saw me they would jeer, "Pull it up! Pull it up!" When I turned eight or nine, although no one taught me, I came to understand, by instinct I suppose, what it was to feel shame. And then if I tried to escape them, they would bar the way and tell me that if I didn't pull up my skirts, they wouldn't let me through. "Nursie, crane, monkey baby!" they would jeer, "Is your bum bright red?" When I burst into tears, they would let me go. If I cried, the children loved it. "Ha ha! Monkey baby cried!" they would shriek in delight as they scattered. I seem to have caught on and made a point of always crying in the end so I could get away.

Customer Reviews

Very moving and far more realistic.
This is probably the only known book of a hot spring geisha by the author who was one herself. It may be a short work but it's certainly painful reading about her hardships, the humilations and the cruelty of her clients. She only learned how to write at a very late age and put her experinces down eventually, which became a best seller in Japan. After reading Arthur Golden's novel "Memoirs of a Geisha", I read this book next and was struck by how differently the hot springs geishas were treated from their city counterparts. Regarded as nothing more than whores, they endured the worst of Japanese society in the countryside and this book is a fiting memorial to their sufferings and humilations. I recomend this book highly to anyone who wants to read more about geishas and the reality of their lives.

An important addition to the Geisha Genre
This book provides a useful contrast to the many Geisha books availible, it is not a tale of glamour and riches it is much more gritty. It is fasinating to read a such a well written book written by a real life geisha who never went to school and was therefore almost illiterate. The realities of her life are at times very harsh, but it is a affecting book well worth reading. Anyone who enjoyed The Good Women of China by Xinran or any of the geisha books availble will be sure to like this.

A Harrowing view of the life of Geisha in the poor areas.
Sayo Masuda has written a fascinating and heart rending account of life as a Geisha in the poor country areas of Japan.
These Geisha Houses were filled with women who were sold as young children into a life of near-slavery because their families could not afford to support them.
They started out as 'servants', working long hours to pay off their 'debt'.
As they eventually progressed to Geisha, the resulting increase in respect and comfort within the household was sufficient to make this a desirable move.
Everyone dreamed of finding a husband and escaping from the daily grind.
It was a hard, thankless life, but preferable to starving on the streets.
A fascinating account of a life in a very different culture to our own. Recommended.