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发表于 2010-12-10 10:35:03
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本帖最后由 abyssthinice 于 2010-12-10 10:35 编辑
VOX POPULI: Charcoal's rich scent recalls a lost way of life
2010/12/02
With December's arrival, fall is giving way to winter in Tokyo and around the country.
Sukemasa Irie (1905-1985), who served Emperor Hirohito, posthumously known as Emperor Showa, for many years as grand chamberlain, left an essay about a scent he recalled in winter: the subtle perfume of burning charcoal that wafted under his nose in a tearoom to which he had been invited.
For Irie, burning charcoal was also the smell of his study at night. The memory reached back to his student days and the period after World War II when Japan was still a poor country. He wrote that he was struck by the fact that "such a luxury was still permitted in Japan, even though it had suffered a crushing defeat ... ."
"Here, 'Japan' was still breathing richly, I thought," he continued.
These days, we rarely come across burning charcoal. When we do, it is usually associated with food like eel or chicken wings, sizzling over a charcoal fire. That faint scent brings back fond memories of old Japan, but, beyond the fragrant smoke that whets our appetites, it seems to have disappeared from our lives.
It is difficult to build fireplaces and chimneys in wooden homes. That is why people sought charcoal, which does not produce smoke and gives out enduring heat.
People's lives were dependent on "hibachi" for heating and charcoal stoves for cooking. But the charcoal that powered living rooms and kitchens are no longer part of daily routine. Charcoal making has become a craft, passed down from master to pupil.
The vernacular Asahi Shimbun recently ran a story about Ginji Sugiura, 85. As an official of the forestry ministry, he devoted himself to researching charcoal and continues to teach charcoal making both at home and abroad.
"Hi to Sumi no Ehon" (Picture book of fire and charcoal) is a children's book edited by Sugiura. "I think the importance of fire and forests becomes visible through charcoal," the book says.
Although electricity and gas are convenient, they have made charcoal and firewood obsolete. The coppices that provided them disappear and nature that surrounds rural communities is damaged.
Watching the decline of this "richly breathing Japan," I am reminded of Irie's reflections on luxury. A cold winter midnight is a good time to form a mental image of a past society, which used to live so close to nature.
--The Asahi Shimbun, Dec. 1 |
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