A Lateral View. Donald Richie

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ was not in the minds of these architects; rather, it was human similarity that was being both courted and celebrated. And Tokyo, too, has its monolithic views—but it only has two of them: the Imperial Palace and the Diet Building.

      Otherwise, there are no views at all. Everywhere you look it is a chaos, but what a fascinating chaos it is. It is a mosaic city, a melange city. It has no center. It has no outside. It seems to lack even the structural supports we know from other cities.

      One of these we know from the early medieval city and from its modern descendant, the Islamic city. This is the division into trade towns. Streets of the goldsmiths, area of the camel drivers, pits of the dyers—that sort of thing. Such remains are visible in all major cities: the West Side of New York, for example.

      Tokyo has something of this, things bunched together from the old days before there was public transportation: Otemachi, where the banks’ headquarters are; Sudacho, where the wholesale cloth merchants are; Akihabara, down the street, where the cut-rate appliance people are.

      But this grid cannot be used to comprehend the city because it is not operative. It is simply left over. Operative is a micro-grid that finds a bank, a cloth merchant, an appliance store in every neighborhood. And there are hundreds of neighborhoods in each district, and dozens of districts in each section, and tens of sections in this enormous city.

      Duplication, therefore, becomes one of the features of a Tokyo walk. When you reach another public bath you are in a different neighborhood. And each neighborhood is a small town which has its laundromat, its egg store, its hairdressing parlor, its coffee shop.

      Looking at the inner structure of Tokyo one is reminded of the inner structure of the traditional Japanese house. The sizes of the tatami,Jusuma and shoji are invariable. The construction is by modular unit. City construction is likewise modular—the laundromat in Asakusa and the laundromat in Shinjuku are identical.

      We of the West, used to large swaths of activity, do not know what to think of the filigree of Tokyo, its fine embroidery of human endeavor.

      But we of the West know what to feel. Walking on the streets of Tokyo we are aware of a sense of human proportion that we might not have known in the cities from whence we came. To walk in Tokyo is to wear a coat that fits exceptionally well.

      The proportions (except where mania has taken over—the towers of west Shinjuku, for example) are all resolutely human. We raise our eyes to see buildings; we do not crane our necks. And the streets are narrow—all too narrow if it is one where cars are permitted. And there are little alleys just wide enough for a person. And there are things to look at.

      Things to look at! Tokyo is a cornucopia held upside down. One does not know where to look first. If people say, and they do, that Tokyo makes them feel a child again, this is because it makes them all curiosity, all enthusiasm, all eyes.

      This then is the display of Tokyo. It perhaps may be mercantile but its appeal goes far beyond the financial. Things become, in this plethora of sensation, detached from their utilitarian aspects. They exist for themselves: the cascades of kanji, the plastic food replicas in the restaurant windows, the façade, stories high, made entirely of TV sets.

      One then remembers the woodcuts of Hokusai and Hiroshige—views of Edo—and sees the similarities. All of that detail, all of those particulars, all that decoration, the sheer movement of it—it is all real and it is all here now.

      Especially on Sundays—the day (along with national holidays) when Tokyo turns itself again into Edo. The main streets in the major sections (Ginza, Shinjuku, Shibuya, Ikebukuro, Ueno) become malls. Motor traffic is forbidden (from 1 to 6 pm) and, as in olden times, people swarm into the streets. Unlike weekdays, when they rush about in the modern manner, on Sundays they stroll in the old-fashioned way. In Edo style they take their time, look at the stores, stop for a snack and saunter on.

      Here, one thinks, looking at the leisured throng, Edo lives on. Despite the new backdrop of TV and computer games, the true human activity is the same, now as then. To leave the house and enjoy the display, to gaze at the latest and perhaps purchase a bit—this is what old Edo did and what new Tokyo does.

      The new merchants, conservative as always, greatly feared for trade when the carless Sundays went into effect several years ago. They thought no one would come if they could not park their wheels. They were ruined, they wept in large advertisements. Not at all. They had not reckoned on the Edo spirit. Now the merchants look forward to Sunday and even department stores spill out onto the crowded streets. They have more customers on Sundays than they do on any other day of the week. Now smiling management gives out free balloons and plastic flowers to the passing crowd, while overhead kanji dance and neon glows in the sunlight.

      All of Tokyo is out walking, sauntering through the streets, enjoying that amazing display which is Tokyo.

      —1986

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4AAQSkZJRgABAQEBLAEsAAD/4gxYSUNDX1BST0ZJTEUAAQEAAAxITGlubwIQAABtbnRyUkdC IFhZWiAHzgACAAkABgAxAABhY3NwTVNGVAAAAABJRUMgc1JHQgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA9tYAAQAA AADTLUhQICAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABFj cHJ0AAABUAAAADNkZXNjAAABhAAAAGx3dHB0AAAB8AAAABRia3B0AAACBAAAABRyWFlaAAACGAAA ABRnWFlaAAACLAAAABRiWFlaAAACQAAAABRkbW5kAAACVAAAAHBkbWRkAAACxAAAAIh2dWVkAAAD TAAAAIZ2aWV3AAAD1AAAACRsdW1pAAAD+AAAABRtZWFzAAAEDAAAACR0ZWNoAAAEMAAAAAxyVFJD AAAEPAAACAxnVFJDAAAEPAAACAxiVFJDAAAEPAAACAx0ZXh0AAAAAENvcHlyaWdodCAoYykgMTk5 OCBIZXdsZXR0LVBhY2thcmQgQ29tcGFueQAAZGVzYwAAAAAAAAASc1JHQiBJRUM2MTk2Ni0yLjEA AAAAAAAAAAAAABJzUkdCIElFQzYxOTY2LTIuMQAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAA

СКАЧАТЬ