inches thick; their core is rice straw covered with a ‘goza’, a covering made by
sewing together fine reeds; a fabric boarder about two inches wide is sewn all
round the edges of each tatami. Tatami provide a firm, yet yielding, living surface
for life without furniture. Interior spaces are divided by more sliding doors called
fusuma which are also three feet by six feet, like shoji. Above fusuma one may
sometimes find transoms providing air circulation in summer without sliding open,
or removing, the fusuma, thus retaining privacy when it is hot. (Privacy, I am
beginning to more clearly understand, is largely a mental situation resulting from
respect for others, rather than a material absolute:private matters necessarily go
unremarked and are the source of decorum, the value of which Freudians and the
“let it all hang out” movement apparently don’t understand.)

Atop the house — supported by the posts — is the roof, the house’s most
distinctive exterior feature. The roof’s eaves extend far enough to cover the entire
building, including the exterior walkways (where one can sit in dryness to
contemplate the garden when it rains). Knapper-san’s house has a double-pitched
hip roof with a hooded Chinese gable on either end. This feature alone — the
lower half of the roof less steep than the upper half — creates the illusion that the
roof is “turning up” at the eaves, the key element of a pagoda roof. On Knapper’s
house this illusion of flight (for what is in reality a very heavy structure) is
enhanced by a ridge board that sweeps gently upward at either end as well as by
the four hip ridges that gently sweep upward in the last few feet before reaching the
eaves. Dark ceramic tile rain gutters running horizontally along the rafter ends
complete the roof line. The roof is covered with more dark ceramic tiles and has
no grand ornamentation that would easily over-do and spoil such a country
residence.

The house is put together like quality furniture or a marqueterie jewel box
with intricate sliding drawers. All its wood is structural, exposed and unfinished,
with the dark patina so highly prized — no paint. It is very handsome indeed! For
all I know, Knapper’s house could be an historical treasure. I love it!

The sun has set and we retreat indoors to enjoy the twilight view of the
ravine (kyokoku) and the darkening tops of its trees below. We might see the
moon. Knapper-san pours drinks and serves food. Yoshimi-san is satisfied with
ocha (tea) and a snack.

“I really like your house, Gurd,” I say.

“Thanks, Morley. There is much to do, but it’s coming.”

page:

31

Japanby Morley Evans

November 21, 2000