There is really no reason to combine a review of Masuji Ibuse’s “Castaways” and John Ortberg’s “If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat,” other than my having read them in sequence and a superficial nautical thematic connection.  But why would that stop me?

“Castaways” was my first book by Masuji Ibuse, and I don’t remember why I placed it on my Amazon wish list, but I’m glad I did.  Ibuse seems to have an interest in historical themes, and in particular the time around the dawn of the Meiji era.  Japan had been in self-imposed seclusion for four hundred years under the Tokugawa regime, but in the 19th century the shogunate’s grasp on power was beginning to wane and foreign powers were increasing their efforts to break into Japan.  Of the two stories in this book, one is set in the first half of the 19th century, before Commodore Perry landed in Japan, and the other straddles that event.

The first story, “A Geisha Remembers,” is aptly titled.  Ibuse has a retired geisha relate her encounters with Takashima ShÅ«han, one of the first to import Western arms to Japan and study Western military strategy.  As a geisha, she gets glimpses into his nature that would remain invisible to the casual observer of the public figure, and because she’s smitten, we get to follow Takashima’s trajectory in a little more length than if she had been a mere acquaintance.  Through her narration, we not only get a glimpse into pre-modern Japan, but also get a peek into the independent character of this geisha.  Ibuse’s storytelling is an example of how artful restraint in the imitation of spoken narrative makes for a much more compelling read than a verbatim transcript of real speech with all its redundancies, rabbit-trails, and incoherencies.  I thoroughly enjoyed this short novel.

The second story, “John Manjirō: A Castaway’s Chronicle,” is based on the life of Nakahama Manjirō, a young fisherman who with his shipmates was shipwrecked on a desolate island and rescued by an American whaling ship.  His four friends were dropped off in Honolulu, but Manjirō continued on to Fairhaven, Massachusetts, where he learned a trade, learned English, and from whence he went forth on adventure.  Here Ibuse is the narrator and tells the story in the third person, which allows him to compress several decades into 80 pages.  An unfortunate effect thereof is that once the other four are dropped off in Honolulu, Ibuse tells more than he shows, and the novel at times feels like a string of facts, a mere summary.  I cannot help thinking a longer novel might have done Manjirō’s life more justice, but it’s easy to read, short, and interesting even to readers not particularly interested in 1853.  Manjirō’s story does make me wonder who the adventurers of today are.  Does anyone still go whaling, settle in a foreign country, prospect for gold, navigate a sailing vessel, and serve as an ambassador these days?  And with 2012 in view: would we ever dare elect someone like that into office?

“If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat” was another of my 80/20 reads.  It looked like a prime candidate and proved itself worthy.  Ortberg is probably an entertaining and inspiring public speaker, but he writes like he’s talking to me, and that frequently irritates me.  I wouldn’t mind being addressed directly, but I’m reading a book here, and don’t expect all the fluff required to keep an audience entertained.  Ortberg could have taken a lesson from Ibuse’s “A Geisha Remembers,” trimmed the book by half, saved many many trees, and still have gotten the message across.  In fact, the title is the main point, and Ortberg spends 200 pages explaining the analogy.

But there are a few points I found interesting.  One is the Quaker idea of assembling a clearness committee before making big decisions, and letting these friends and mentors ask the important questions to obtain clarity regarding the pending decision.  That, to me, is one aspect of community that we largely ignore: we read our Bibles, pray every day, and decide for ourselves, depriving us of the wisdom of our fellow believers.

Another is the idea of praying for something big for six months.  Now, that sounds dangerously like trying to manipulate God into something, but I think it’s a good way to get into a habit of persistent prayer.  I might start thinking I’ll do it for six months, which feels manageable.  But by the end of those six months, I should have a habit of praying that can either continue or be used for another prayer item.

His chapters six and seven encourage me to think about how I model fear management and failure management to my children.  How I react when faced with danger or failure will have a strong impact on how they react in similar situations.  Ortberg has questions at the end of each chapter, and here lists a few common responses to failure: shame, fear, increased determination, denial, and blaming someone else.  Clearly, some are more productive than others, and if Joseph sees me making excuses and blaming others for my failures, he’ll learn the same habit.

Ortberg has this thought on waiting: “Waiting is, by its nature, something only the humble can do with grace.  When we wait for something, we recognize that we are not in control.”

So that’s about it – but the book also contained the first chapter of his book “Everybody’s Normal Till You Get to Know Them,” where I found almost as many points of interest as in the entire water-walking book, though they are all quotes from other writers:

“Community is the place where the person you least want to live with always lives.”  (Henri Nouwen)

“But God’s grace quickly frustrates all such dreams.  A great disillusionment with others, with Christians in general, and, if we are fortunate, with ourselves, is bound to overwhelm us as surely as God desires to lead us to an understanding of genuine Christian community….  The sooner this moment of disillusionment comes over the individual and the community, the better for both….  Those who love their dream of a Christian community more than the Christian community itself become destroyers of that Christian community even though their personal intentions may be ever so honest, earnest, and sacrificial.”  (Dietrich Bonhoeffer)

“Whoever cannot stand being in community should beware of being alone.”  (Dietrich Bonhoeffer)

Both books are available for lending, and, in the case of Ortberg’s, taking.