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Cinta pertamanya. Kuharap dia bisa berhenti memikirkan orang itu dan mulai melihatku. Karena hidup tanpa dirinya sama sekali bukan hidup. Selama sebulan bersama, perasaan baru pun mulai terbentuk. Lalu segalanya berubah ketika suatu hari salah seorang dari mereka terbangun dan sama sekali tidak mengingat semua yang terjadi selama sebulan terakhir, termasuk orang yang tadinya sudah menjadi bagian penting dalam hidupnya Loading interface About the author.

Ilana Tan 11 books 1, followers. Ilana Tan adalah seorang novelis Indonesia yang dikenal karena menulis 4 novel roman yang masing-masing novelnya disajikan dengan cerita yang latarnya berbeda-beda. Novel Ilana Tan memiliki keunikan, yaitu tokoh-tokoh dari novel yang satu dengan novel yang lainnya saling berkaitan. Dan masing-masing novel diceritakan di musim yang berbeda; Summer musim panas , Autumn musim gugur , Winter musim dingin , dan Spring musim semi.

Write a Review. Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book! Community Reviews. Search review text. Join the discussion. For the last 13 years, Keiko is still obsessed with her first love Kitano Akira — even though she barely remembered his face. Nishimura Kazuto has just moved to Tokyo. He left New York to refresh his mind His new neighbour in Tokyo, Ishida Keiko, brings happiness whenever they’re together.

And before he knew it, he falls in love with her. Deep in his heart he’s waiting for Keiko to forget her first love and start looking his way. From the beginning of Winter until Christmas, Keiko and Kazuto has been spending their time together. But before the love between them has the chance to grow any further, Kazuto has an accident that causes him to lose his memories. He couldn’t remember anything that has happened since he came to Tokyo. Including his days together with Keiko.

Even if he lost his memories, his heart is still longing for her. Without knowing why, Kazuto feels that something is missing in his life In Winter in Tokyo , the characters are strongly built and developed. Both protagonists have strong personalities, and the sub-characters are not flat. Kazuto is my favourite character in this book. He’s gentle, sweet, funny and also realistic. What I like from him is that he’s actually thinking of doing something to win Keiko’s heart.

It’s like watching a Japanese drama, and I couldn’t stop reading because I really wanted to know what would happen next. Highly recommended for people who enjoy a sweet, first love story. Jun 17, Ferlina bigpileofbooks rated it it was amazing Shelves: drama , favorite , romance. Jul 21, Natasia Angel rated it it was amazing Shelves: gurls , childrenyoungadult , notmine , summer , series , indonesian , , bestseller.

This one is so far the sweetest one. It didn’t make me cry like the last one, but it did make me feel I don’t know. It’s made me believe in love once more. For a moment. So far so good I guess. Sep 13, Ratrichibi rated it liked it. I don’t know if she’s going to make the fourth book or not i assumed it should be a season series? I enjoy this book as much as the other books by Ilana Tan, although my favourite perhaps would be Autumn in Paris which made me cry XD But this Winter in Tokyo has interesting storyline, and dramatic description I could vividly imagining the This is the third book by Ilana Tan, after Summer in Seoul and Autumn in Tokyo.

I enjoy this book as much as the other books by Ilana Tan, although my favourite perhaps would be Autumn in Paris which made me cry XD But this Winter in Tokyo has interesting storyline, and dramatic description I could vividly imagining the characters in this book : Maybe if I should describe it in one word, it would be LOVELY.

Nov 17, Melis rated it it was ok. It’s not the kind of books that I like much, I don’t prefer that kind. But I read it with my friend’s advice, not bad.

The romance scenes, which are not unique in that genre -was so classic events- are written by reflecting slightly exaggerated feelings. A book that can be enjoyed by those who like this genre.

Dec 03, Tamz rated it it was amazing. Mar 11, Putri rated it it was amazing. I finally able to add my review I love it. It’s romantic No matter what happened, even if Kazuto lost his memory, he could never forget his love to Keiko. Owh, so nice! Oct 26, Nabila rated it it was amazing. Oh, Winter in tokyo is an amazing book from Ilana Tan.

I like the structure of sentence I think this is kind of true-love-story May 15, Ellen chan rated it it was amazing. I love her writing style means her editorial style. She’s use great vocabulary which not common to use and more meaningful.

Apr 06, Maria Kristina rated it it was amazing. Okay this is the third novel of ilana tan.. May 05, Matthew Dickson hamel rated it really liked it. Jan 20, Ana Indriyani rated it really liked it Shelves: ina. The last novel from tetralogi, I think the my order was wrong from the bigining, but it still amusing. Good character of Ilana Tan. It make me fall to the first lead male character as always. Love it. Mar 23, Prasastia rated it it was amazing. The plot is very nice.

Especially in calling the story of the previous novels. I can clearly feel and get into the story created by the novelist. I could clearly feel the characters are in a novel. Every word written really made me able to draw in a novel situation. Jun 30, Khairunnisah Ryuzaki rated it it was amazing. Once again I believe in love.

Kazuto is somehow too good to be true. Every girl will love him. I do love seeing someone with enormous love. It makes me melted. I do feel it. Someone with a kind heart crushes my heart into pieces :. Mar 19, Eka rated it it was amazing. This book is full of romantic things. Oct 29, Khairunnisaa Tjakradirana rated it it was amazing.

I love this stories. In the middle of the story, it was a bad tragedy for Keiko. But finally she got what she want :. Mar 02, Rara Dananjaya rated it it was amazing. Intriguing cover, as so the story. May 23, Ermarema added it. Aug 30, Amira Naufal rated it it was amazing. Feb 20, Jacqueline rated it it was amazing. When i finished reading this book, i want read and read it again. Nov 06, Laureca rated it really liked it. It is a nice light reading. I reread this in 1 day.

I remembered when I first read the series, I liked this book the most. They got along just well since the beginning. He sort of interested in her within days even though he didn’t realise it at first. The growth of their relationship was really enjoyable and sweet.

When it turned into an a It is a nice light reading. When it turned into an amnesia drama, I started skimming. It was overly used at many storylines and I wasn’t intrigued. With the addition of Sakamoto Yuri, Kazuto’s original love interest who suddenly regretted her decision and wanted to be with Kazuto right at this period. The perfect seasoning to the amnesia drama. Nevertheless, Kazuto ended up falling in love with Keiko again which might be a bit too unrealistic but I supposed it was necessary to make the story way way more romantic.

And it was also the perfect timing for him to be busted by the same bad guy and regained his memories. I was happy with the outcome though.. Feb 15, Alya rated it liked it. When I still a kid, I thought this novel probably didn’t suite my age much at that time.. But when I was 23, I thought it’s gonna be different since I get much older and probably I’ll understand about how being sensitive, relatable, and being touched by the story..

I’m sorry, but in my opinion, the love story are just too long-winded since Kazuto got the accident. And also, I personally thought that was Keiko is too hypocrite to admit that she was fall in love with Kazuto..

Apr 17, Nandini Mahira rated it it was amazing. Oct 26, Astrid rated it really liked it. Good book with Tokyo as setting, you almost can feel the cold of winter. Dec 29, Arinda P Kumalasari rated it liked it Shelves: done.

A good series books. Not to cheesy. Jan 21, Mutia rated it really liked it. I love this book, not because its extraordinary story, i love it for its “classic” story. A must read for those who loves a very good romance fiction I love this book, not because its extraordinary story, i love it for its “classic” story.

A must read for those who loves a very good romance fiction Readers also enjoyed. Young Adult. About Ilana Tan.

 
 

 

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Full content visible, double tap to read brief content. Read more Read less. Mike is a freelance technology journalist who is fascinated with gaming, futuristic technology and motorsport. He dreams of becoming a rally driver.

Biologist Laura escaped the confines of the lab to the rigours of an office desk as a keen science wr. The section serves to introduce academic papers that enrich and expand the research legacy of SPACE, in its search for future directions in ways of thinking about architecture. Mark Stephen explores beautiful landscapes and meets people associated with them.

Health and fitnes. Learn how to navigate the application process for federal science jobs with a new toolkit for early- and mid-career scientists. Review must be at least 10 words. It was in Rome, on the 15th of October, , the great English historian Edward Gibbon wrote, as I sat musing amidst the ruins of the Capitol, while the bare-footed friars were singing vespers in the Temple of Jupiter, that the idea of writing the decline and fall of the city first started in my mind.

Few writers experience such timely or decisive moments. Cities creep up on us over time, insinuating themselves as an idea. It was a view of the past that was free from the idea of any inherent purpose. History consisted of causes, effects, events; there were no determining laws, theorems, no divine purpose.

It was the opposite of the view held by the classic Chinese historians, who saw history as preordained but manageable by decree—if the Mandate of Heaven was lost by a weak or corrupt ruler, he could be legitimately, justifiably usurped, and the whole process of history restarted. Gibbon, a man of the Enlightenment, demonstrated that there were other routes back into historical time. To retrace those routes was to reencounter the human footprint on time.

It was in something akin to that spirit, and a desire to write a history that would include everything of significance and interesting insignificance, that this book was written. Many accounts of Tokyo, even those created today, when we should know better, are surprisingly dated inversions of reality.

These books all too often portray Tokyo as a city suffering from a multiple personality disorder, a city whose residents experience spasms rather than emotions. In foreign-made films with Tokyo settings, the actors wander the city like humans exploring the surface of Neptune.

In one book, writer Paul Theroux dismisses Tokyo as more like a machine than a city. This book was partly written as a riposte to the perception of Tokyoites as involuntary cells or charged particles streaming through the body of the city. Tokyo exists, like all great cities, because of the presence of a highly individual populace.

When you start to think of the past as happening , as opposed to having happened , a new way of conceiving history becomes possible. Despite its colossal building projects, Tokyo can still seem inchoate, even incorporeal, a massive jellyfish of cement and light. So great is the intensity of change that the city at times seems completely severed from its own history.

There is no such thing, however, as an abiding city. The pattern, with rare exceptions, is invariably one of transformation, mutability. This is of course, a question of degree. Any talk of the past presupposes the persistence of history. Yet in Tokyo, we are presented with the very opposite: the impersistence of the past.

Nothing is preordained. History is time travel. Edward Seidensticker famously wrote that the argument between tradition and change—a characteristic of European cities—is less relevant in Tokyo, where change is a tradition. No doubt, some of the best city histories are impartial accountings, but if we make a cult out of impartiality, the result will be narrative leached of vitality.

I count myself lucky to have been on the platform at Kasumigaseki Station just hours before the sarin gas attack was carried out by a Japanese death cult. I was in the city when the earthquake and tsunami struck nearby Fukushima in March I was fortunate to have gotten a sleeping unit on the upper floor of a twelve-story capsule hotel, the narrow building swaying drunkenly with the series of aftershocks.

There was precious little sleep to be had that night. The capsule next to mine was occupied by a distressed insomniac babbling prophesies about a ruined city, like a biblical figure speaking in tongues. The Asakusa Kannon temple, also called Senso-ji, may be the oldest religious site in the city, built to enshrine a gold statue of Kannon, Goddess of Mercy, that was caught by two fisherman on the Sumida River.

Originally founded in , the temple was destroyed during the bombings of World War II. Once rebuilt it became, if possible, even more meaningful to the people of Tokyo as a symbol of compassion and peace. The flocks of Grus japonensis , the red-crowned crane, wading unmolested in the winter salt flats and tidal marshes, were not alone among avians nesting or sojourning along the swampy inlets of the bay. There were kestrels, egrets, Mongolian plovers, curlews, hawfinches, and the Japanese crested ibis, but it was the migratory crane—omnivorous consumer of crabs, snails, salamanders, and dragonflies—that would acquire special distinction as a Taoist symbol of immortality and fidelity, before it, too, like the city destined to rise here, would pass through cycles of growth, near-extinction, and transformation.

The city sits on the Kanto Loam Stratum, a bed of hard red clay amassed in the aftermath of volcanic eruptions. Abundant lashings of rain from the East Asian monsoons created sinkholes and depressions, forming sudden valleys in an otherwise flat terrain. The undulating unevenness—combined with the perforation caused by rivers and subterranean streams disgorging into pools, wet-lands, and the bay—formed the crooked backstreets that follow the course of old, long-filled-in rivulets or subterranean streams faintly sensed in the low rumbling heard beneath storm drains and manholes, representing visible traces of a natural topography around which the city has evolved.

This much we can verify, yet the fog of time obscures history. Even the skeletons and fossils of prehistoric creatures, like the one of a Naumann elephant excavated from beneath the business center of Nihonbashi Honcho, represent a period of history as firmly interred in the past as these bone relics.

With the development of implements like stone axes, knives, and hot pebbles used for cooking—which took place during the last glaciation some 20, to 30, years ago—large creatures like the elk and elephant became extinct. Colder gusts of air caused the earth to dry and then harden, then to experience tidal advances in the early Jomon period 8, BC— AD , when the climate once again grew warm, the shoreline reaching as far as the range of modest hills known today as the yamanote.

The bluffs and ridges at the shore provided natural jetties for fishing and gathering shellfish. Shell mounds and the outlines of pit dwellings in present-day Itabashi and Kita wards, along with the discovery of stone tools along the upper banks of rivers and at the head of the bay, indicate the existence of primitive settlements, the home of Paleolithic hunter-gatherers. A rich, inventive earthenware culture arose as the glacial epoch receded and a more temperate climate emerged.

Earthen vessels from this period bear the impression of straw twines and cords pressed into the soft clay. These cord-marked pieces of pottery lent the age its name; the Jomon period. Tokyo is littered with mounds where these mollusk gatherers, a hunting, fishing, and gathering race, dumped their used shells. Bone tools and stone and ceramic ware have been found in middens.

As a study, archeology in Japan began, improbably, with the arrival of American zoologist Edward S. Morse, who visited to conduct advanced research on brachiopods, the Western Pacific shellfish. Traveling by train from Yokohama to Shimbashi on June 19, , he chanced to glance out of the window as his carriage passed through the district of Omori.

There he spotted a rise in the ground that he immediately identified as a shell mound. Further excavations revealed the site to be a 5,year-old cockleshell heap. Morse returned some days later with students from Tokyo Imperial University, and the group dug through the site with their bare hands, finding a large collection of unique forms of pottery, three worked bones, and a curious baked-clay tablet.

Similar kitchen heaps were found in Ochanomizu, on Ueno Hill, and even in the grounds of the present-day Imperial Palace. A thirst for knowledge led to more excavations and the unearthing, in , of another stratum of Japanese history along a slope near present-day Nezu Station now known as Yayoi-zaka. Advancements in better-managed communities during this period are visible in the everyday objects of the age. These include animal snares, fire pits, stronger earthen vessels fired at higher temperatures, clay figurines, lacquer ware, copper and iron tools, and burial urns— this latter an important and telling item.

When people begin to honor their dead, they have made a significant leap in social development; the remembrance of ancestors is an important act in the establishing of historical time. The orange-brown-colored haniwa that were placed at the foot of ancient tumuli were also associated with remembrance of the dead.

These unglazed clay figurines in cylindrical or configured forms represent people, animals, and familiar objects and shapes such as appliances and scale models of primitive residences. In the western suburb of Todoroki, the scallop-shaped Noge Otsuka tomb has been preserved in remarkably fine condition. Dating from the fifth century, the mound is representative of the Middle Kofun culture that prevailed in the Kanto region. The hill is encircled with river stones and haniwa. Excavations of its one stone and two wooden coffins revealed a trove of relics, including swords, iron arrowheads, armor, armlets, iron sickles, bronze mirrors, and combs.

The quality of the relics and the scale of the tomb indicate that this was the resting place of a powerful chieftain based in the southern Musashino area. Its burial relics attest to the existence of a ruler who controlled much of the Tama River region. If geography and climate define habitat, it was inevitable that people would settle within the eight provinces that made up the Kanto plain. The largest region of flatland in Japan, its location on the eastern seaboard placed it at the furthest distance from potential enemies invading from continental Asia.

As it was well-irrigated, it was ideal for the cultivation of rice and for the training of horses in the employ of warriors. The site of the villages from which Tokyo would emerge straddles three rivers—the Sumida, the Arakawa, and the Edogawa— as they flow over the flat alluvial lowland before discharging into Tokyo Bay. This broad swath of land, barely above sea level, is highly prone to flooding and other disasters; it has been the subject of countless calamities and will likely be so again.

Much of the shore was marshy, but when the area was developed in the late sixteenth century, land reclamation projects solidified the shoreline, adding space to the future city. As river courses altered and geological shifts and changes in sea levels occurred, upland plains formed. The biggest landmass of this sort is the Musashino plateau, a diluvial plain running 60 kilometers west of the city center to the mountainous edges of the Kanto plain. Its escarpments penetrate into the city, creating a clearly defined geography separating the flat, low-lying sections of the city close to the bay and river estuaries called the shitamachi low city from the rising inland zones called the yamanote high city.

The trick was to buy several and to consolidate the strips of pork in one roll—one of these and a salad roll became my invariable lunch. At the Shakespeare Club table, a place was always reserved for me by devoted Malvolio. Apparently she arrived early, staked out a place for herself at an empty table, and then sat there immovably, saving the seat next to hers.

As she was a Tokyo girl and not a boarder, she brought a box lunch lovingly assembled at home, always the most elaborate at the table. Throughout the meal she sat attentively at my side, watching me owlishly through her heavy glasses, rarely joining the conversation but always quickest with an explanation when something said in Japanese confused me. Her chief pleasure at lunch, once she had overcome her shyness, was modestly to offer me choice morsels of fish or shrimp or meat from her own bountiful lunch.

The seat to my left or directly across from me was usually reserved for solicitous Viola; next to her, or somewhere near, sat the senior girl elected by the club to serve as temporary director until I arrived to take over.

And so on hierarchically down the table, players with smaller parts sitting at correspondingly greater distances away from me. At one time or another almost everyone I knew in or out of class sat at our table for lunch. Except the one I most longed to see, who was never there, not at first and certainly not later, when we had begun to meet off campus: the Duke Orsino.

When we finished eating, we went to the new auditorium for our afternoon rehearsal of Twelfth Night. The girls had studied the play in class the previous year and knew it literally, word for word. To be sure, I had to spend considerable time reversing r s and l s and adjusting intonations so the lines might fall comprehensibly on native English ears.

But once the players could pronounce the lines, they performed them credibly—those who could act. Those who could not act were awful, but no worse than American students similarly ungifted. Unlikely as it seems, Twelfth Night at Tsuda College was no more or less ridiculous than it would have been at an all-girls school in Poughkeepsie, New York. I devoted myself to this part of my day at the college with close to complete seriousness.

I mean I worked hard as a director on those autumn afternoons and flirted only a little. The cast responded by mostly forgetting during those hours that I was the first young American man they had known, and by trying their best to follow my direction. It was good for a while to be away from the giggling and the sidelong glances that followed me wherever else I went on campus: it was gratifying for those few hours to have a project more substantial than romance.

In the auditorium, time flew, and always arrived as a surprise. From the first day I was reluctant to leave Tsuda in the failing light for the long bus and train trip back to Tokyo; it felt like being expelled into bleakness from a fragrant garden. I was shy in my way and, though they were roughly my own age, I was aware of the boundaries my status as sensei required.

As luck would have it, only Viola, boyish, hostile Sebastian, and stalwart Malvolio lived in Tokyo and rode the afternoon train.

Viola and Sebastian alighted after just a few stops. Malvolio, who lived only three stations away from me, remained at my side for most of the trip, changing trains with me at Shinjuku and again at Shibuya, trotting along at my side as I hurried up and down station stairs, tirelessly explaining the meanings of billboard advertisements and, since I was considered the property of the Shakespeare Club, keeping other girls on the train at a distance.

I resented being chained by circumstance to Malvolio. Week by week the end of rehearsal lowered me deeper into gloom. Finally I rebelled. I delayed my arrival at the front gate so that the others were ahead of me in line for the bus. They waved to me to join them, but I smiled and indicated that I would see them on the bus. They boarded, Malvolio last. I made as if to board and then hung back; the door closed and the bus drove off down the country lane.

I watched it go happily. Now I was free to tarry, possibly to meet someone new; maybe I would even find the courage to wander over toward the dormitories in hopes of running into the Duke Orsino. And then I saw the bus slow down and stop eighty yards down the road, where I knew there was no bus stop.

I watched in disbelief as the door opened and Malvolio stepped down and jogged pudgily toward me in the thin light. I understood: she had made the driver let her out, and now she had come to fetch me and there was nothing I could do. I smiled and was silent; we waited together at the gates to paradise another twenty minutes for the next bus, and this time I boarded obediently and we rode home. A month at the Y and I was ready for an apartment. My landlords were the Sano sisters, who lived alone behind the rental unit in a large house, spanking new, with a showy blue-tile roof that advertised affluence.

I dealt with the younger sister, but it was the elder who intrigued, I should say excited, me. She was a pale woman in her early forties, beyond marriageable age by Japanese standards, but she was no spinster.

Though she comported herself around me as demurely as she dressed, there was something hidden about her, a hint of compliant sensuality that lighted fantasies in me. One night, the only time I was ever in their house, the sisters invited me to dinner. There was another guest, a well-dressed man in his sixties perhaps who was introduced to me with no word of explanation except that he was the owner of the Imamura Rose Gardens. A kept woman—it was an exciting idea—living in the house he had built for her and supporting herself on the revenues from the apartments he had built at the front of the property.

I never saw him again and was unable to confirm the truth of what I imagined. The Sano sisters remained a mystery, and. Open navigation menu. Close suggestions Search Search. User Settings. Skip carousel. Carousel Previous.

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Ebook pages 6 hours. Start your free days. Read preview. About this ebook John Nathan arrived in Tokyo in fresh out of Harvard College, bringing with him no practical experience, no more than two connections, no prospects, and little else to recommend him but stoic, unflappable pluck. Japan at that time was still in the shadow of the Occupation, and only a handful of foreigners were studying the country seriously.

Two years later, Nathan became the first American to pass the entrance exams to the best school in Japan, the University of Tokyo. Nathan was given unprecedented access to the inner sanctum of Sony for his book Sony: The Private Life , and he explored the damaged psyche of postbubble Japan in his acclaimed Japan Unbound. During his decades of passionate engagement with Japan, Nathan became close friends with many of the most gifted people in the land — politicians and business leaders as well as painters, novelists, directors, rock stars, and movie stars — and was privileged to travel, in their very special company, inside domains of Japanese life not normally open to foreigners then or now.

In his unique chronicle of that journey, Living Carelessly in Tokyo and Elsewhere , he details the adventures sublime, profane, and uproarious, many of a distinctly Japanese nature, that characterized his career, which was singular in its success as much as in its chaos. Along the way, he brings the most exciting era in recent Japanese history vividly into focus with wry humor, penetrating insight, and pathos. John Nathan is not the only foreigner to have developed a rich, full, deeply nuanced understanding of Japan.

But his experiences are certainly extraordinary and in fact irreproducible, and his memoir is the most personally satisfying story yet told of Japan and elsewhere.

From Nathan’s lifetime of wisdom, compassion, and brazen resolve, we learn the value of traveling within our own mental and emotional borders as well as without the many places we call home.

Language English. Publisher Free Press. Release date Mar 18, ISBN

 
 

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I understood: she had made the driver let her out, and now she had come to fetch me and there was nothing I could do. Jordan by CSPtrade. I learned later that I was the first single male to teach at Tsuda since it was founded in We—my younger sister, Nancy, and I—had no business being there: our hypochondriac father contracted a chronic cold every New York City winter and decided, though he had never been west of the Hudson, to become a Sunbird. Reviews for Living Carelessly in Tokyo and Elsewhere. A kept woman—it was an exciting idea—living in the house he had built for her and supporting herself on the revenues from the apartments he had built at the front of the property.