Wednesday at Zenda. Wednesday of foreign non-fiction. Today, we feature Tree, a collection of essays by Japanese writer Aya Kōda (Tokyo, 1904 – Ishioka, 1990) that marks a milestone in 20th‑century Japanese literature. It has recently been revived in Spain, translated by Jordi Fibla Feito, under the Lumen imprint. In its pages, Kōda offers a beautiful testimony of the astonished relationship she formed with the various species of trees encountered throughout childhood and through her numerous journeys across the Japanese landscape: each tree, in its own way, embodies the idiosyncrasy of an ecosystem and carries with it a whole sequence of stories, as well as a strange promise of peace.
The publisher itself notes about the work: “Cherries, wisterias, hinoki cypress, Ezo pines, sugi cedars more than seven thousand years old… The trees of Japan are emblems of beauty that never cease to captivate us. From childhood, Aya Kōda’s father gave trees to her and her siblings, and taught them to plant them, to be attentive to pests, to distinguish the varieties by each leaf, and to bow with reverence to the gardener. There emerged a lifelong love that she nourished and that led her to recognize their essential value and the obligation we have to care for them.
During her travels across Japan to behold the singular and enduring essence hidden in every tree, Aya Kōda also witnessed landslides, the work of lumbermen, and ventured into ash-covered forests. The fruit of her journeys is this beautiful collection of essays that illuminate the landscape, history, and culture of Japan, and speak to us about beauty, loss, transience, and the cycles of life. A modern classic that has crossed generations to remind us that trees are a mirror in which we recognize who we are and what legacy we wish to leave in the world.”
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Author: Aya Kōda. Title: Tree. Translation: Jordi Fibla Feito. Publisher: Lumen. Available from: Todos tus libros.