Towards the end of The Hare with Amber Eyes, de Waal writes, "I no longer know if this book is about my family, or memory, or myself, or if it is a book about small Japanese things." (pg. 342) Yet the fact of his narrative makes the three inextricable from one another; determining a primary subject here in pointless. The collection of netsuke is not inherently meaningful, above and beyond its aesthetic value. As an inheritance, however, de Waal imbues it with meaning. The netsuke are the link to a family he is connected to but (for the most part) has never met. They become as representative of those people and their lives as the first-hand accounts de Waal recalls from his uncle Iggie, or his grandmother Elizabeth. The netsuke are Charles’ affinity for art and the fortune he excersized in acquiring it. They are saved by Anna, the anonymous Gentile maid, herself a last-vestige of the ravaged family fortune. The netsuke are the reason for Iggie’s relocation to Japan. As objects adjacent to a personal history, de Waal’s narrative makes the collection of “small Japanese things” representative of that history.
The relationship of person and object shape the value given to a certain object. De Waal compares his relationship with the netsuke to patina. The story of the netsuke cannot be told without the elements of himself, his family history, and the objects. They are intertwined no matter how each owner valued the netsuke because the small netsuke tell a small part of the history they came from.
The last saved items from a once prosperous banking family bridge generations and show de Waal a window in time. Each owner valued the items a little differently; Charles saw them as an exciting addition to his ever growing art collection, while to de Waal the netsuke are a legacy.
De Waal sets out to uncover his family history, and he does so by tracing back the original owner of a family heir loom- 264 netsuke that he had inherited. He returns to the places that previous generations of his family had lived, and attempts to imagine the setting that the netsuke were a part of. By doing so, he learns about his family history, and does his best to understand his ancestors on a personal level. He tries to imagine the rooms that the netsuke were place in, and what the small figurines meant to the owners at the time. De Waal wanted to know more about what he inherited. Charles Ephrissi purchased them when japonisme was a popular art trend, but as the items were passed down the sentiment changed. They became "small, quick, ivory stories" (174).
De Waal analyzes the netsuke as souvenirs of the past. They are valuable family heir looms, but beyond that they have their own history. It is similar to when one visits an ancient structure at a historical sight, and touches the marble or the granite that has survived through hundreds of years. One imagines who else had touched that same thing, what was their experience with it, or how did they appreciate it. The netsuke were a common thread in his family that enables a specfic connection that can really only be preserved through things.
Superficially, it seems as though De Waal poses the nesuke collection, his family air loom, as the centerpiece in his family’s history since the fin de siècle in Paris (though the history actually extends further back to when his family, the Ephrussi were not wealthy and were the Efrussi, it was during Paris that the narrative becomes a lot more detailed and focused.) De Waal attempts a kind of ethnographic history of the Ephrussi through the movement of the nesuke in time. He retells events microscopically rather than as a series of major events that has causation, unless it was necessary. There is are overarching themes of “smallness” or small things, events that are “happening” rather than have happened, gestures (rather than motivation behind these gestures), etc. that very much corresponds to the art form of the nesuke (and other Japanese small things) and way it was enjoyed. A perfect example would be how Charles and Louise’s love affair corresponded to their love of the nesuke and other Japanese ornaments, and the erotic quality it elicits from the content itself and that fact that touch is integral to the enjoyment of the objects (as opposed to formal/modern western art that requires an a distant-connoisseur-like viewing.) This Impressionistic focus went beyond the nesuke themselves and manifested in the way that De Waal writes. A good passage that reflects this is the part where he’s simultaneously describing the major events that came before and followed WWI in Vienna and the daily events in each family member’s life during this political and economical turmoil. As Austro-Hungarian Empire is dissolved and there is clear internal turmoil within the Ephrussi family in Vienna, De Waal ends this sequence with the Elizabeth Ephrussi writing that she had registered at the local University. This feeling of disjuncture parallels not only the moment in which parents, Emmy and Viktor Ephrussi held on to their valuables more tightly and thus sentimentally in the face of loss (of history, nobility, etc.) but the larger cultural disjuncture of early 20th century Europe at large (ie. Freudian loss, Marxian alienation, etc.). De Waal similarly does this kind of history earlier when he talks about Charles in fin de siècle Paris and how his motivations and aesthetics corresponded (indirectly) with the larger cultural practices of the time (newness, adventurousness [Charles called himself an art vagabound], the city and his home in a constant state of change, etc.), which he (De Waal) does very well in discussing. De Waal’s focus on details and moments is much impressive in relations to how he uses other objects. Superficially, as I said before, the nesuke seems to be a central object-character within his family’s history. However, he spends most of the time discussing not the nesuke but rather every other object that the nesuke is immersed with. Everything from the architecture, the other art pieces, the placement of food, what is one doing. De Waal would visit a place and imagine a scene that the person in question would be in based on the intricacies of the color of the stairs etc. The interactions of the figures with other objects besides nesuke make up most of the story. Its interesting because he focuses alot on interior design and architecture, things that aren’t normally thought as objects but rather environments and yet De Waal uses them as if they were objects imbued with stories as well. One of the more problematic aspects of this book is mainly De Waal’s resistance to a bit of critique, especially in relations to talking about views that were clearly problematic. Clearly he’s not saying that he’s agreeing and just posing them as a symptom of the times. However, those critiques would have made his historiography alot richer.
"How objects are handed on is all about story-telling. I am giving you this because I love you. Because I bought it somewhere special. Because you will care for it. Because it will complicate your life. Because it will make someone envious. There is no easy story in legacy. What is remembered and what is forgotten?" (15)
As an attempt at tracing his own legacy, de Waal utilizes the netsuke as a starting point to decipher his, as well as the historical narrative attributed to each individual gift as it relates to a given time and place. Candid and descriptive in his own story-telling practice, de Waal's makes relevant the observation of the smallest to largest detail, a practice I greatly appreciate in general.
By assessing the netsuke, he posits meaning beyond the surface perception of objects that as a result, draws out the character nature objects have in our lives. He calculates value by imagining the possibilities for what is and had been meant by each survived netsuke gift.
I really enjoyed reading this book--objects in particular have always been conjurers of memory for me and I've always been fascinated by what we project upon them--De Waal asks the question towards the latter half of the novel whether objects have...I'm not sure if I an remembering this correctly...a consciousness or identity separate from the ones we impose upon them. This is something I have often thought about myself. A phrase De Waal brought up on page 57 by Guy de Maupassant stuck with me throughout the novel. It is "Of all the passions, of all without exception, the passion for the bibelot is perhaps the most terrible and invincible. The man smitten by an antique is a lost man." De Waal--throughout his journies discovering the stories of his family through the ownership and places of rest of the netsuke, becomes lost in the objects which guide his journey. Touching and looking at objects of the past conjure intense emotions of nostalgia--the physical act of touching an antique can transport you through time and space--and De Waal does this throughout "The Hare With Amber Eyes". Often through and after the description of a particular object, piece of furniture or netsuke, De Waal then transports the reader to a recreation of a space these objects inhabited in the past. Something I got out of the novel was the idea that objects are not of a particular time of place--they are not fixed in the present. Instead, they are an amalgamation of different times, places, owners, etc. The hold a complex history--one can discover and trace history through objects.
Edmund de Waal’s The Hare with Amber Eyes was an interesting exploration into the history of the author’s family that surrounded their collection of 264 netsuke. This exploration was propelled by de Waal’s interest in the relationship between objects and their owners, which became an examination of the relationship between objects and memory, and a brief consideration of the privacy one should respect regarding others’ memories and things.
The other major focus of this work was the inhumane treatment of the author’s family and others by anti-semites in the first half of the 20th century. Though he uses the netsuke as a thread to tie the story together, I wish de Waal had expanded upon the relationship between the oppression of the European Jews and objects, specifically the netsuke. In what way were the netsuke out of place, or right where they belonged during this time? What is the significance of these objects surviving the War when many people did not? How does the layer of “patina” over the netsuke thicken as they are transferred from Anna to Elisabeth? How are the two women bonded, by this exchange; and what does it mean that they never see or hear from Anna after this meeting? What is the significance of these netsuke being in the places they were, surrounded by the objects they were, handled by the people they were, during the events that they were? What is their long-collected identity? How does it affect Edmund de Waal?
In The Hare With Amber Eyes, the beginning of the story focuses on Edmund De Waal’s drive for tangible objects. The object of the story being, a particular collection of Japanese art. It is very clear that this collection retains strong significance to Waal, hence why the backbone to the entire story is his journey to locate them. In addition to the pieces of art, the beginning of the story is extremely detailed when it comes to describing actual ‘things,’ such as; houses, interiors, hotels, and so forth. This is an important aspect of the story because from the start it is made very clear how closely Waal sees, appreciates, and cares for, ‘things.’ For example the first indication of any sort of passion stems from describing architecture of a street scape. Rue de Monceau is a long Parisian street bisected by the grand boulevard Malesherbes that charges off towards the boulevard Pereire. It is a hill of golden stone houses, a series of hotels playing discreetly on neoclassical themes, each a minor Florentine palace with heavily rusticated ground floors and an array of heads, carytids, and cartouches. Number 81 rue de Monceau, the Hotel Ephrussi, where my netsuke start their journey, is near the top of the hill. I pass the headquarters of Christian Lacriox and then, next door, there it is. Edmund de Waal, The Hare with Amber Eyes In this entire description of ‘things,’ Waal does not offer any further substance besides immediate appearances, brand names, and geography. There is no indication of emotion or feeling beyond what is obvious about the street scape. However, as the story goes on Waal’s journey for ‘things’ takes a backseat to what actually becomes the most rewarding and intriguing part of his hunt; unfolding his very long family history. Objects become less prevalent and seem to decrease in value while, contrastingly, non-tangible things in life such as relationships, family, and history, gain a type of superiority not necessarily describable or physically attainable but, clearly surpasses any type of material object value.
The author seems to take a pleasant interest in Elisabeth and her poem-writing. At one point, he says that given to her by her grandmother was a book of poems with the inscribed dedication, “These old songs have faded away from me. Since they are resonating for you, they also resonate to me again” (de Waal 192).
This line immediately reminded me of the inside cover of this book itself, where a Proust quote from Cities of the Plain can be found. It reads, “Even when one is no longer attached to things, it’s still something to have been attached to them” (Proust).
Though one may be able one day to move away from an attachment to his or her belongings, that he or she is able to instead hold them in his or her memory fondly after they have gone, to cherish the simple fact that they are being appreciated by someone else, somewhere (whoever and wherever they may be), is lovely, rather than casting away objects that no longer hold any current significance in one’s physical reality. This handing-down of objects imbued with meaning, within a family that forms the basis for that meaning, that takes place in this book seems different than from my experience of receiving family objects. In the book, he or she who does the handing down does not seem to ask in that action that the receiver remember the giver by which he or she has given, but rather, as in the case of the netsuke, that the receiver simply find joy in that which is received, find a new meaning within it, and then give it again, share it.
Later in the book, when we discover that Elisabeth is in fact the author’s grandmother, and that he even knew her during his youth and had correspondence with her about his own poetry, we can imagine the echoes of timeless resonance reaching several more generations of family members indeed. Most importantly for the theme of the book, those little netsuke have found their place with the enjoyment of the author’s children, which is all (as it seems) the little pieces of intricate art could have possibly asked for.
In the very beginning of his memoir, Edmund De Waal introduces and familiarizes the reader with his intense and at times, bizarre fascination/obsession with objects and things, particularly the netsuke he inherits from his great-great-grandfather Ignace von Ephrussi (121). I’m not sure what practical value the netsuke possesses but apparently they remain very valuable to De Waal. In the 1870s, Charles Ephrussi, a relative of Edmund’s great grandfather, purchases netsuke and starts collecting and eventually ends up with a total of 264 netsuke. Edmund traces the netsuke starting with the “Japonisme” era in the 1870s in Paris through traumatic historical events, especially anti-Semitism. De Waal finally encounters and “handles” the netsuke many years later in 1991. Although he doesn’t discuss the specific function of netsuke, I think he personifies them and makes them into abstractions that are difficult for the reader to grasp. He makes it clear that he is interested in how objects was made, how they are handled, and where they are transported and in what context, but that is mostly his imagination. I think the idea that art unfolds history is fascinating and I know he is speaking only for himself but his entire experience (maybe because it is so foreign to me) seems incredibly subjective and personal. He offers a rare and unique perspective and experience on the netsuke but I think he had much more fun than I did.
His idea that objects can tell stories, that I can agree with, but who is telling these stories and to whom? When Americans or Europeans are looking or feeling an object in Japan, do they feel or see the same thing as someone from Japan or China and vice versa? On page 49 he claims, “When you held Japanese object it revealed itself.. Touch tells you what you need to know. It tells you what you need to know. It tells you about yourself.”
I also don’t quite understand what he means when he says “You pick up an object and feel if it is right” (50). Personally, I’ve never experienced that. And I think to be so moved by an object without any sentimental value or familial history, is unlikely. By the end of the book, I felt like he had finished a really long journal entry, although I did enjoy his choice of words at some points. And one last quote that confused me, he says on page 66, about netsuke, “They are the first things that have any connection to everyday life. They make you laugh in many different ways. They are for touching.” I respect the different perspective of both Japanese and European art, but De Waal emphasizes the significance of specific senses that the reader doesn’t have, which makes it difficult to relate or understand what he is experiencing. The only similarity I noticed was when De Waal discusses the “intoxication of buying” and the consumer culture that signified status and social prestige (57). By the end of the book I still wasn’t sure what was really motivating De Waal, was it the family and the preserving of such rich history? If the netsuke weren’t passed down through his family for so many years, would he even know about them? Is it the object, the netsuke that he is fascinated/obsessed with? Or did he need an object/thing to be fascinated by? I liked the quirky language he uses and his honesty but I’m not quite sure I can attribute that much meaning to 264 objets.
His way of writing and use of analogies is kind of refreshing but at times confusing…for example when he talks about “house-watching” but to me, that would mean using one’s imagination rather than pure observation. At first, it seems that de Waal is only concerned with the netsuke, and his accessibility to touching and handling them, but to me it is much more introspective and this fact is even more flagrant when comparing different cultures or different perspectives, or personal experiences. The netsuke and their ability to endure the trauma of anti-Semitism and Nazi invasions, would give them more value than just their feel or shape.
I think that one of De Waal's greatest strengths in writing this book is his reverence for the power of objects. As he proclaims early on in the book, he is in a unique position to appreciate the "explosion of exactitude" that is a netsuke, because of his profession as a ceramicist (16). He explains that the question of "how objects get handled, used and handed on" is one of utmost importance to him (16). In The Hare With Amber Eyes, he shows how the netsuke serve to connect him with history, both that of his own family and of larger society. As much as De Waal, like so many in his family, clearly adores the netsuke, the purpose they serve extends beyond their ornamental role.
I want to know what the relationship between this wooden object that I am rolling between my fingers – hard and tricky and Japanese – and where it has been. . . And I want to know whose hands it has been in and what they felt about it and thought about it – if they thought about it. I want to know what it has witnessed. (16.)
In a way, the netsuke almost act as characters, "witness[ing]" the various lives they move in and out of. On more than one occasion, De Waal indirectly personifies them and other objects. He talks of how he felt that his pots "die" if contained behind glass, and stresses the tactility of the netsuke (65-66). He talks of what they stand for–a limitless unknown, an unfamiliar exoticism (53), and of their power to enlighten the holder: "When you held a Japanese objet, it revealed itself. Touch tells you what you need to know: it tells you about yourself" (49).
When likening the netsuke to his favorite Japanese tea-bowls, De Waal states that one of the aspects he likes about their asymmetry is that "you cannot understand the whole from the part," (12). However, he tries to do just that–by taking on the "responsibility [he feels he has adopted] to them and to the people who have owned them," he takes one small part of these peoples' lives, and extrapolates.
In "The Hare with Amber Eyes", De Waal allows readers to have a different perspective when viewing inanimate objects. Being a potter, he holds a deeper relationship when it comes to creations. When he was given a netsuke, his mind was filled with questions about the original owner, Charles. To help understand the emotional value of the figurines, De Waal goes on a journey to Charles past.
He analyzes his living area and other objects that he possessed. Through these details, De Waal was able to understand more of Charles life and give more meaning to the netsuke. After seeing what the netsuke has seen, he holds a deeper appreciation for them.
What I got from "The Hare with Amber Eyes" is how our relationships with objects connect us to people we do not even actually know. De Waal feels this deep connection to his ancestors through these little carved pieces but most of the people whom he imagines and learns about he has never met.
The things that are passed down to us through our families have this great meaning to us that are not completely warranted. We feel that something is special to us because it was once special to someone else we feel a sense of loyalty to but is this sentimentality really necessary? Are we giving meaning to objects to somehow validate our relationships?
In De Waal's "The Hare with Amber Eyes", I was interested in how objects become another way to form a personal identity. De Waal's connection to these intimate small things take on a unique preciousness that links him to historical and familial roots, in a way that studying a biography or looking at old photographs of people does not offer; through objects the individual has the ability to instill a consciousness or personality towards these inanimate creatures. I think that the stillness of the nonliving is important towards the way humans obsess with possessions.
14 comments:
Towards the end of The Hare with Amber Eyes, de Waal writes, "I no longer know if this book is about my family, or memory, or myself, or if it is a book about small Japanese things." (pg. 342) Yet the fact of his narrative makes the three inextricable from one another; determining a primary subject here in pointless. The collection of netsuke is not inherently meaningful, above and beyond its aesthetic value. As an inheritance, however, de Waal imbues it with meaning. The netsuke are the link to a family he is connected to but (for the most part) has never met. They become as representative of those people and their lives as the first-hand accounts de Waal recalls from his uncle Iggie, or his grandmother Elizabeth. The netsuke are Charles’ affinity for art and the fortune he excersized in acquiring it. They are saved by Anna, the anonymous Gentile maid, herself a last-vestige of the ravaged family fortune. The netsuke are the reason for Iggie’s relocation to Japan. As objects adjacent to a personal history, de Waal’s narrative makes the collection of “small Japanese things” representative of that history.
The relationship of person and object shape the value given to a certain object. De Waal compares his relationship with the netsuke to patina. The story of the netsuke cannot be told without the elements of himself, his family history, and the objects. They are intertwined no matter how each owner valued the netsuke because the small netsuke tell a small part of the history they came from.
The last saved items from a once prosperous banking family bridge generations and show de Waal a window in time. Each owner valued the items a little differently; Charles saw them as an exciting addition to his ever growing art collection, while to de Waal the netsuke are a legacy.
De Waal sets out to uncover his family history, and he does so by tracing back the original owner of a family heir loom- 264 netsuke that he had inherited. He returns to the places that previous generations of his family had lived, and attempts to imagine the setting that the netsuke were a part of. By doing so, he learns about his family history, and does his best to understand his ancestors on a personal level. He tries to imagine the rooms that the netsuke were place in, and what the small figurines meant to the owners at the time. De Waal wanted to know more about what he inherited. Charles Ephrissi purchased them when japonisme was a popular art trend, but as the items were passed down the sentiment changed. They became "small, quick, ivory stories" (174).
De Waal analyzes the netsuke as souvenirs of the past. They are valuable family heir looms, but beyond that they have their own history. It is similar to when one visits an ancient structure at a historical sight, and touches the marble or the granite that has survived through hundreds of years. One imagines who else had touched that same thing, what was their experience with it, or how did they appreciate it. The netsuke were a common thread in his family that enables a specfic connection that can really only be preserved through things.
Superficially, it seems as though De Waal poses the nesuke collection, his family air loom, as the centerpiece in his family’s history since the fin de siècle in Paris (though the history actually extends further back to when his family, the Ephrussi were not wealthy and were the Efrussi, it was during Paris that the narrative becomes a lot more detailed and focused.) De Waal attempts a kind of ethnographic history of the Ephrussi through the movement of the nesuke in time. He retells events microscopically rather than as a series of major events that has causation, unless it was necessary. There is are overarching themes of “smallness” or small things, events that are “happening” rather than have happened, gestures (rather than motivation behind these gestures), etc. that very much corresponds to the art form of the nesuke (and other Japanese small things) and way it was enjoyed. A perfect example would be how Charles and Louise’s love affair corresponded to their love of the nesuke and other Japanese ornaments, and the erotic quality it elicits from the content itself and that fact that touch is integral to the enjoyment of the objects (as opposed to formal/modern western art that requires an a distant-connoisseur-like viewing.) This Impressionistic focus went beyond the nesuke themselves and manifested in the way that De Waal writes. A good passage that reflects this is the part where he’s simultaneously describing the major events that came before and followed WWI in Vienna and the daily events in each family member’s life during this political and economical turmoil. As Austro-Hungarian Empire is dissolved and there is clear internal turmoil within the Ephrussi family in Vienna, De Waal ends this sequence with the Elizabeth Ephrussi writing that she had registered at the local University. This feeling of disjuncture parallels not only the moment in which parents, Emmy and Viktor Ephrussi held on to their valuables more tightly and thus sentimentally in the face of loss (of history, nobility, etc.) but the larger cultural disjuncture of early 20th century Europe at large (ie. Freudian loss, Marxian alienation, etc.). De Waal similarly does this kind of history earlier when he talks about Charles in fin de siècle Paris and how his motivations and aesthetics corresponded (indirectly) with the larger cultural practices of the time (newness, adventurousness [Charles called himself an art vagabound], the city and his home in a constant state of change, etc.), which he (De Waal) does very well in discussing.
De Waal’s focus on details and moments is much impressive in relations to how he uses other objects. Superficially, as I said before, the nesuke seems to be a central object-character within his family’s history. However, he spends most of the time discussing not the nesuke but rather every other object that the nesuke is immersed with. Everything from the architecture, the other art pieces, the placement of food, what is one doing. De Waal would visit a place and imagine a scene that the person in question would be in based on the intricacies of the color of the stairs etc. The interactions of the figures with other objects besides nesuke make up most of the story. Its interesting because he focuses alot on interior design and architecture, things that aren’t normally thought as objects but rather environments and yet De Waal uses them as if they were objects imbued with stories as well.
One of the more problematic aspects of this book is mainly De Waal’s resistance to a bit of critique, especially in relations to talking about views that were clearly problematic. Clearly he’s not saying that he’s agreeing and just posing them as a symptom of the times. However, those critiques would have made his historiography alot richer.
"How objects are handed on is all about story-telling. I am giving you this because I love you. Because I bought it somewhere special. Because you will care for it. Because it will complicate your life. Because it will make someone envious. There is no easy story in legacy. What is remembered and what is forgotten?" (15)
As an attempt at tracing his own legacy, de Waal utilizes the netsuke as a starting point to decipher his, as well as the historical narrative attributed to each individual gift as it relates to a given time and place. Candid and descriptive in his own story-telling practice, de Waal's makes relevant the observation of the smallest to largest detail, a practice I greatly appreciate in general.
By assessing the netsuke, he posits meaning beyond the surface perception of objects that as a result, draws out the character nature objects have in our lives. He calculates value by imagining the possibilities for what is and had been meant by each survived netsuke gift.
I really enjoyed reading this book--objects in particular have always been conjurers of memory for me and I've always been fascinated by what we project upon them--De Waal asks the question towards the latter half of the novel whether objects have...I'm not sure if I an remembering this correctly...a consciousness or identity separate from the ones we impose upon them. This is something I have often thought about myself.
A phrase De Waal brought up on page 57 by Guy de Maupassant stuck with me throughout the novel. It is "Of all the passions, of all without exception, the passion for the bibelot is perhaps the most terrible and invincible. The man smitten by an antique is a lost man." De Waal--throughout his journies discovering the stories of his family through the ownership and places of rest of the netsuke, becomes lost in the objects which guide his journey. Touching and looking at objects of the past conjure intense emotions of nostalgia--the physical act of touching an antique can transport you through time and space--and De Waal does this throughout "The Hare With Amber Eyes". Often through and after the description of a particular object, piece of furniture or netsuke, De Waal then transports the reader to a recreation of a space these objects inhabited in the past.
Something I got out of the novel was the idea that objects are not of a particular time of place--they are not fixed in the present. Instead, they are an amalgamation of different times, places, owners, etc. The hold a complex history--one can discover and trace history through objects.
Kat says:
Edmund de Waal’s The Hare with Amber Eyes was an interesting exploration into the history of the author’s family that surrounded their collection of 264 netsuke. This exploration was propelled by de Waal’s interest in the relationship between objects and their owners, which became an examination of the relationship between objects and memory, and a brief consideration of the privacy one should respect regarding others’ memories and things.
The other major focus of this work was the inhumane treatment of the author’s family and others by anti-semites in the first half of the 20th century. Though he uses the netsuke as a thread to tie the story together, I wish de Waal had expanded upon the relationship between the oppression of the European Jews and objects, specifically the netsuke. In what way were the netsuke out of place, or right where they belonged during this time? What is the significance of these objects surviving the War when many people did not? How does the layer of “patina” over the netsuke thicken as they are transferred from Anna to Elisabeth? How are the two women bonded, by this exchange; and what does it mean that they never see or hear from Anna after this meeting? What is the significance of these netsuke being in the places they were, surrounded by the objects they were, handled by the people they were, during the events that they were? What is their long-collected identity? How does it affect Edmund de Waal?
Atafeh says:
In The Hare With Amber Eyes, the beginning of the story focuses on Edmund De Waal’s drive for tangible objects. The object of the story being, a particular collection of Japanese art. It is very clear that this collection retains strong significance to Waal, hence why the backbone to the entire story is his journey to locate them. In addition to the pieces of art, the beginning of the story is extremely detailed when it comes to describing actual ‘things,’ such as; houses, interiors, hotels, and so forth. This is an important aspect of the story because from the start it is made very clear how closely Waal sees, appreciates, and cares for, ‘things.’
For example the first indication of any sort of passion stems from describing architecture of a street scape.
Rue de Monceau is a long Parisian street bisected by the grand boulevard Malesherbes that charges off towards the boulevard Pereire. It is a hill of golden stone houses, a series of hotels playing discreetly on neoclassical themes, each a minor Florentine palace with heavily rusticated ground floors and an array of heads, carytids, and cartouches. Number 81 rue de Monceau, the Hotel Ephrussi, where my netsuke start their journey, is near the top of the hill. I pass the headquarters of Christian Lacriox and then, next door, there it is.
Edmund de Waal, The Hare with Amber Eyes
In this entire description of ‘things,’ Waal does not offer any further substance besides immediate appearances, brand names, and geography. There is no indication of emotion or feeling beyond what is obvious about the street scape.
However, as the story goes on Waal’s journey for ‘things’ takes a backseat to what actually becomes the most rewarding and intriguing part of his hunt; unfolding his very long family history. Objects become less prevalent and seem to decrease in value while, contrastingly, non-tangible things in life such as relationships, family, and history, gain a type of superiority not necessarily describable or physically attainable but, clearly surpasses any type of material object value.
Tyler says:
The author seems to take a pleasant interest in Elisabeth and her poem-writing. At one point, he says that given to her by her grandmother was a book of poems with the inscribed dedication, “These old songs have faded away from me. Since they are resonating for you, they also resonate to me again” (de Waal 192).
This line immediately reminded me of the inside cover of this book itself, where a Proust quote from Cities of the Plain can be found. It reads, “Even when one is no longer attached to things, it’s still something to have been attached to them” (Proust).
Though one may be able one day to move away from an attachment to his or her belongings, that he or she is able to instead hold them in his or her memory fondly after they have gone, to cherish the simple fact that they are being appreciated by someone else, somewhere (whoever and wherever they may be), is lovely, rather than casting away objects that no longer hold any current significance in one’s physical reality. This handing-down of objects imbued with meaning, within a family that forms the basis for that meaning, that takes place in this book seems different than from my experience of receiving family objects. In the book, he or she who does the handing down does not seem to ask in that action that the receiver remember the giver by which he or she has given, but rather, as in the case of the netsuke, that the receiver simply find joy in that which is received, find a new meaning within it, and then give it again, share it.
Later in the book, when we discover that Elisabeth is in fact the author’s grandmother, and that he even knew her during his youth and had correspondence with her about his own poetry, we can imagine the echoes of timeless resonance reaching several more generations of family members indeed. Most importantly for the theme of the book, those little netsuke have found their place with the enjoyment of the author’s children, which is all (as it seems) the little pieces of intricate art could have possibly asked for.
In the very beginning of his memoir, Edmund De Waal introduces and familiarizes the reader with his intense and at times, bizarre fascination/obsession with objects and things, particularly the netsuke he inherits from his great-great-grandfather Ignace von Ephrussi (121). I’m not sure what practical value the netsuke possesses but apparently they remain very valuable to De Waal. In the 1870s, Charles Ephrussi, a relative of Edmund’s great grandfather, purchases netsuke and starts collecting and eventually ends up with a total of 264 netsuke. Edmund traces the netsuke starting with the “Japonisme” era in the 1870s in Paris through traumatic historical events, especially anti-Semitism. De Waal finally encounters and “handles” the netsuke many years later in 1991. Although he doesn’t discuss the specific function of netsuke, I think he personifies them and makes them into abstractions that are difficult for the reader to grasp. He makes it clear that he is interested in how objects was made, how they are handled, and where they are transported and in what context, but that is mostly his imagination. I think the idea that art unfolds history is fascinating and I know he is speaking only for himself but his entire experience (maybe because it is so foreign to me) seems incredibly subjective and personal. He offers a rare and unique perspective and experience on the netsuke but I think he had much more fun than I did.
His idea that objects can tell stories, that I can agree with, but who is telling these stories and to whom? When Americans or Europeans are looking or feeling an object in Japan, do they feel or see the same thing as someone from Japan or China and vice versa? On page 49 he claims, “When you held Japanese object it revealed itself.. Touch tells you what you need to know. It tells you what you need to know. It tells you about yourself.”
I also don’t quite understand what he means when he says “You pick up an object and feel if it is right” (50). Personally, I’ve never experienced that. And I think to be so moved by an object without any sentimental value or familial history, is unlikely. By the end of the book, I felt like he had finished a really long journal entry, although I did enjoy his choice of words at some points. And one last quote that confused me, he says on page 66, about netsuke, “They are the first things that have any connection to everyday life. They make you laugh in many different ways. They are for touching.” I respect the different perspective of both Japanese and European art, but De Waal emphasizes the significance of specific senses that the reader doesn’t have, which makes it difficult to relate or understand what he is experiencing. The only similarity I noticed was when De Waal discusses the “intoxication of buying” and the consumer culture that signified status and social prestige (57). By the end of the book I still wasn’t sure what was really motivating De Waal, was it the family and the preserving of such rich history? If the netsuke weren’t passed down through his family for so many years, would he even know about them? Is it the object, the netsuke that he is fascinated/obsessed with? Or did he need an object/thing to be fascinated by? I liked the quirky language he uses and his honesty but I’m not quite sure I can attribute that much meaning to 264 objets.
His way of writing and use of analogies is kind of refreshing but at times confusing…for example when he talks about “house-watching” but to me, that would mean using one’s imagination rather than pure observation. At first, it seems that de Waal is only concerned with the netsuke, and his accessibility to touching and handling them, but to me it is much more introspective and this fact is even more flagrant when comparing different cultures or different perspectives, or personal experiences. The netsuke and their ability to endure the trauma of anti-Semitism and Nazi invasions, would give them more value than just their feel or shape.
I think that one of De Waal's greatest strengths in writing this book is his reverence for the power of objects. As he proclaims early on in the book, he is in a unique position to appreciate the "explosion of exactitude" that is a netsuke, because of his profession as a ceramicist (16). He explains that the question of "how objects get handled, used and handed on" is one of utmost importance to him (16). In The Hare With Amber Eyes, he shows how the netsuke serve to connect him with history, both that of his own family and of larger society. As much as De Waal, like so many in his family, clearly adores the netsuke, the purpose they serve extends beyond their ornamental role.
I want to know what the relationship between this wooden object that I am rolling between my fingers – hard and tricky and Japanese – and where it has been. . . And I want to know whose hands it has been in and what they felt about it and thought about it – if they thought about it. I want to know what it has witnessed. (16.)
In a way, the netsuke almost act as characters, "witness[ing]" the various lives they move in and out of. On more than one occasion, De Waal indirectly personifies them and other objects. He talks of how he felt that his pots "die" if contained behind glass, and stresses the tactility of the netsuke (65-66). He talks of what they stand for–a limitless unknown, an unfamiliar exoticism (53), and of their power to enlighten the holder: "When you held a Japanese objet, it revealed itself. Touch tells you what you need to know: it tells you about yourself" (49).
When likening the netsuke to his favorite Japanese tea-bowls, De Waal states that one of the aspects he likes about their asymmetry is that "you cannot understand the whole from the part," (12). However, he tries to do just that–by taking on the "responsibility [he feels he has adopted] to them and to the people who have owned them," he takes one small part of these peoples' lives, and extrapolates.
In "The Hare with Amber Eyes", De Waal allows readers to have a different perspective when viewing inanimate objects. Being a potter, he holds a deeper relationship when it comes to creations. When he was given a netsuke, his mind was filled with questions about the original owner, Charles. To help understand the emotional value of the figurines, De Waal goes on a journey to Charles past.
He analyzes his living area and other objects that he possessed. Through these details, De Waal was able to understand more of Charles life and give more meaning to the netsuke. After seeing what the netsuke has seen, he holds a deeper appreciation for them.
What I got from "The Hare with Amber Eyes" is how our relationships with objects connect us to people we do not even actually know. De Waal feels this deep connection to his ancestors through these little carved pieces but most of the people whom he imagines and learns about he has never met.
The things that are passed down to us through our families have this great meaning to us that are not completely warranted. We feel that something is special to us because it was once special to someone else we feel a sense of loyalty to but is this sentimentality really necessary? Are we giving meaning to objects to somehow validate our relationships?
In De Waal's "The Hare with Amber Eyes", I was interested in how objects become another way to form a personal identity. De Waal's connection to these intimate small things take on a unique preciousness that links him to historical and familial roots, in a way that studying a biography or looking at old photographs of people does not offer; through objects the individual has the ability to instill a consciousness or personality towards these inanimate creatures. I think that the stillness of the nonliving is important towards the way humans obsess with possessions.
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