Jun Nakayama was a silent film star in the early days of Hollywood, but by 1964, he is living in complete obscurity—until a young writer, Nick Bellinger, tracks him down for an interview. When Bellinger reveals that he has written a screenplay with Nakayama in mind, Jun is intrigued. But he begins to worry that someone might delve too deeply into the past, and uncover the events that led to the abrupt end of his career in 1922. These events include the changing social and racial tides in California—and the unsolved murder of his favorite director, Ashley Bennett Tyler.
Spurred on by his fear of a potential "misunderstanding," Jun begins to track down his surviving acquaintances from his years as Perennial Pictures' greatest star. In the process, he recounts the lives of several other figures from the silent film era: Elizabeth Banks, the working-class girl from St. Louis who becomes a major Hollywood diva; Nora Minton Niles, the dreamy, childlike teenage actress controlled by her ambitious mother; Hanako Minatoya, the elegant actress and playwright who serves as Jun's inspiration and foil; and Ashley Bennett Tyler, the British director whose guiding hand turns Jun into a star. But what Jun ultimately discovers is far more complex and personal than even he could have imagined.
Revoyr's stunning new novel alternates between the 1960s and the height of the silent film era. It is also the story of a man caught between worlds: Jun must try to please both his Japanese and American fans, and while he is adored by moviegoers—especially women—he's despised by public officials, who see him as a threat to American power and racial purity.
The Age of Dreaming explores the history of Los Angeles, the heady beginnings of the movie industry, and the interplay of race and celebrity. It is part historical novel, part mystery, and part unfulfilled love story, all told through the voice of a forgotten star who must gradually come to terms with his past.
Nina Revoyr was born in Japan to a Japanese mother and a white American father, and grew up in Tokyo, Wisconsin, and Los Angeles. She is the author of four novels. Her first book, The Necessary Hunger, was described by Time magazine as "the kind of irresistible read you start on the subway at 6 p.m. on the way home from work and keep plowing through until you've turned the last page at 3 a.m. in bed."
Her second novel, Southland, was a Los Angeles Times bestseller and "Best Book of 2003," a Book Sense 76 pick, an Edgar Award finalist, and the winner of the Ferro Grumley Award and the Lambda Literary Award. Publishers Weekly called it "Compelling... never lacking in vivid detail and authentic atmosphere, the novel cements Revoyr's reputation as one of the freshest young chroniclers of life in L.A."
Nina’s third book, The Age of Dreaming, was a finalist for the 2008 Los Angeles Times Book Prize. Publishers Weekly called it "enormously satisfying;" Library Journal described it as "Fast-moving, riveting, unpredictable and profound," and Los Angeles Magazine wrote that "Nina Revoyr ... is fast becoming one of the city’s finest chroniclers and myth-makers."
Nina's fourth novel, Wingshooters, was published in March, 2011. It is one of O: Oprah Magazine's "Books to Watch For," an IndieBound Indie Next Selection, and a Midwest Connections Pick. Publishers Weekly described it as "remarkable...an accomplished story of family and the dangers of complacency in the face of questionable justice; and Booklist called it "a shattering northern variation on To Kill a Mockingbird.
Nina is the executive vice president of a large child and family service agency in Los Angeles. She has also been an Associate Faculty member at Antioch University, and a Visiting Professor at Cornell University, Occidental College, and Pitzer College. Nina lives in Northeast Los Angeles with her partner, two rowdy dogs, and a pair of bossy cats.
What a challenge to write a book in the narrative voice of an elderly Japanese man and former silent film star, this is so well done. It opens up a character few people would be capable of writing so well, where his correctness and attempts to distance himself from what he does not want to see both fail him beneath the pressure of unexpected circumstances. In some ways it does limit the ranges of what the book can reveal of this fascinating early period in the intertwined histories of both film and race in Los Angeles, it left me wanting much more. But I was more than satisfied with this compromise because I feel this character is unique, this voice is one that is almost entirely missing from almost any genre you could name, this attempt to get within the mind of an earlier generation with love and respect and also immense frustration is beautifully carried out. Of course I loved the mystery and murder as well, but they are certainly secondary to these other things...
Again Nina Revoyr took me into another time here in the city where I live and showed me a world we can barely imagine in 2015. I loved her first book, Southland, set in Los Angeles in the 40s, 50s, and 60s. In The Age of Dreaming, she goes earlier to the era of silent film.
Jun Nakayama was a (fictional) silent film star in the early days of Hollywood. He emigrated from Japan as a young man and through a combination of hard work, self-assurance, a passion for acting, and plenty of luck, wound up as a contracted actor to one of the first film studios. He rose to star status, fame, and riches. Then suddenly in 1922, he vanished from the scene.
As the book opens he is an older man living alone, friendless, and devoted to his simple routines. When he is contacted by a young journalist who is writing an article about the opening of a Silent Movie Theater in 1964, he begins to look back on his early life for the first time in years. His recollections tell the story.
Jun is an unreliable narrator because he choose to ignore what was going on around him during his career. He turned an unaware eye on the sexual orientation of his favorite director and denied the growing racism toward the Japanese living in California, while he remained oblivious to the love of his best Japanese friend. As he uncovers what he had hidden from himself for all those years the increasing emotional tension drives the story. An unsolved murder in 1922, just before Jun left the movie world provides a mystery.
The writing is restrained but elegiac and reminded me of Kazuo Ishiguro and Chang Rae Lee, both of whom are of partial Japanese descent as is Ms Revoyr. I was also put in mind of Glen David Gold's Sunnyside, an excellent novel built around the life of Charlie Chaplin.
The Tiny Book Club met at Musso and Franks, a historic Hollywood restaurant, to discuss this gem of a book. It happened to be the day after Leonard Nimoy died and when we exited the restaurant we found a small crowd of locals and tourists gathering around Nimoy's Hollywood Star in the sidewalk, laying flowers and saying goodbye to another fallen star.
“Live where you are, not only where you think you should be. Otherwise, you will end up living nowhere.”
2.5 stars. Which feels a bit harsh, but on the other hand, it perfectly describes how I feel about this book. It was good, fine, right down the middle. I'm not really drawn to books about fame and celebrity, but I gave this one a try for two reasons. A book about a Japanese-American actor in the age of silent films seemed like something I would eat up, especially since it's historical fiction, and wouldn't really touch on all the stuff about modern day fame that I don't really care for. And more importantly, I've really enjoyed all the other books I've read by this author before, whether or not I like the subject matter. She got me to love a book about basketball, of all things, when I really don't care about sports. So I went into this with a lot of hope. And it just turned out to be... fine.
I did like a lot of the details that we got about Jun's rise to fame, his time in theatre before moving to films, and the insider look at the production of silent films. I don't think I've ever read a book about films in the 1920s, and that was interesting. The book moves back and forward in time, from the height of Jun's fame, to the present day in the 60s, when he's a much older man. It's interesting to see his take on the role he played in cinema, the impact he had, the way he was treated, and his forgotten legacy. It's obvious to the reader that he's internalised a lot of stuff, and it takes the entire book for him to unpack it. I loved the messaging, but it wasn't written in the most interesting way, I'm afraid.
Also, there's a mystery-esque aspect to the book, as there's a decades-old, unsolved murder that happened just before Jun left the industry. The way that was written was so boring. It didn't feel like a mystery at all, in that there wasn't really anything for the reader to figure out? We just got reveals from time to time. And in spite of that, I still managed to figure out a few things about the ending. Not because I picked up on clues that were cleverly dropped; it feels like I just guessed it all, using nothing but the knowledge that I'm reading a book, and those were things that were likely to happen. Or idk, maybe I'm not giving the writing enough credit. Maybe it did subliminally give me enough info so I was able to figure out that . I just know that it didn't feel very entertaining. And I just didn't love some of the directions the story went. I don't know. There were some facets of the writing that I really liked, and the poignancy of the things in Jun's life that he left behind that really struck me. But I feel kinda underwhelmed. It was fine.
Listened to the audiobook as read by Brian Nishii, and I did enjoy it a lot, even though it didn't make me like the book any more than I already did. I do think this was good, but I've read better plots from this author, and definitely better prose. All in all, it just wasn't really for me.
One of the many pleasures of Nina Revoyr’s quietly powerful new novel, The Age of Dreaming, is the portrayal of its central character, an aging Japanese silent-film star named Jun Nakayama. The novel is set in 1964, and Jun is living in a small apartment in West Hollywood, forgotten and ignored, a dignified and elderly man whose neighbors have no idea he was once a major Hollywood star with an understated acting style that would later influence the likes of Montgomery Clift and Marlon Brando. It’s been more than 40 years since Jun made his last picture in 1922, and the question that hangs over the novel is, Why did Jun give up such a successful career only to live out his life in obscurity?
It’s a question that Revoyr takes 300 pages to answer, slowly and artfully leaking out bits of Jun’s remarkable past by moving back and forth in time. In the process, she turns The Age of Dreaming into a murder mystery, as she did her last novel, the critically acclaimed Southland, which focused on South-Central L.A. and the intersection of black and Japanese culture, depicting the particularly brutal murders of several young black men that occurred during the Watts riots.
I really enjoyed this story! I have to say, after reading several of the reviews I find that I don't really agree with any of the criticisms people have put forth. For one, the narrator may feel stilted, aloof or whathaveyou, but to me it makes complete sense considering he is a 70 Japanese man born around the turn of the century who has spent 40 years suppressing his memories, feelings and desires. This is a perfectly real and believable person to me and if his narrative had been easy or self aware or jovial I feel it would have rung false.
Also, the complaints about the other characters--the fact that the characters are fiction, are based too much on real people, are unrealistic, etc.--is irrelevant to my enjoyment of the book. I found all the characters interesting and their motivations understandable and that's usually what I'm looking for!
SPOILER (a bit) As far as the ending goes, one reviewer seemed disappointed by the "relatively happy ending." That's just IT--it's relatively happy because it is dependent on the main characters' situation and circumstances. I'd say it is quite a happy ending for someone who has spent 40 years almost paralyzed shame and guilt, denying himself true companionship and any sense of purpose or happiness.
Earlier this month I went to a silent film workshop in Virginia where attendees were treated to unidentified silent films (complete with live musical accompaniment) from various film archives around the world in hopes that some information can be revealed about them: their title, their actors, possible directors and crew, the year it was made, the place it was filmed. It was something really fun and challenging to do. Viewers devoured every detail of the films in question, scoured reference books, voraciously searched for information using their phones and tablets, and yelled out whatever clues they thought would be helpful in figuring out the origins and identities of extremely rare and ancient silent films. It was fun!
In anticipation of that event, I checked out five books about silent film from my university library. All of them nonfiction except for one. I didn't get to thoroughly read any of the nonfiction. There just wasn't time. I leafed through them and gleaned the most I could for about two days. I didn't want to pack them all in my luggage. One book I did decide to take was the one novel I picked out (because I love reading fiction on planes). I thought it was perfect! It had the right amount of intrigue and it sounded like an original story. I wasn't disappointed to have chosen this book.
The details of early Hollywood were fun and engaging to read. I really like thinking about what life must have been like during that time--the excitement of developing a new artistic medium, the freedoms, the parties, the glamor. However, as I was able to see in some clips from the silent film workshop and in the book, the evidence of racism during that time was beyond shameful. It is absolutely painful to imagine. Nina downplays this in her storytelling, but the insinuations of marginalization and hate toward minorities in the 1910s-20s are still very apparent in the narrative.
Nina Revoyr's writing style is very eloquent. There is no doubt that I was absolutely entranced by Jun Nakayama's narration from the very beginning. I was drawn in by her characters and the story overall. There were gradual changes, of course, that eventually reveal tragedies that echo some of the more harrowing downfalls of stars from that era.
Jun as an old man is not who he seems, does not like to draw attention to himself, who is wracked by internal scars from his past. However, most of the people he encountered in his life are not who they seem, either. Jun is the hero of his story, but he is by no means completely moral and good. He is morally ambiguous and that is what rings most true about this book. It was a pleasure to read. Enough so that I will probably try reading more from this author.
The star of Nina Revoyr’s novel, "The Age of Dreaming" is ostensibly Jun Nakayama, a silent-film-era Hollywood heartthrob. But the book’s real luminary is Los Angeles— old Hollywood in particular—a place where big dreams and big business rubbed shoulders, but with less treachery and friction than they do today. The Age of Dreaming tracks the way L.A. and the movie world changed between the ’20s and the ’60s.
Revoyr paints a rich, detailed picture of old Hollywood—not just the business but the way of life that sprang up around it. She describes the haunts where Jun and his fellow artists would gather for drinks and gossip, later flashing forward to show how one of those elegant watering holes has become a shelter for the homeless. Revoyr is particularly sharp about the racism that simmered in Hollywood (and throughout California) in the teens and ’20s—a review of one of Jun’s early films reads, “Nakayama is brilliant at conveying the beastliness of the Oriental nature”—and she expresses with subtlety the sense that those attitudes were simply business as usual for a successful Japanese professional working in a mostly white world. Revoyr is also smart about recognizing the ways in which early-twentieth-century immigrants had to live with racism. She understands that even though many of them accepted attitudes they couldn’t correct, they may nevertheless have longed for change.
Unfortunately, The Age of Dreaming lacks a strong dramatic backbone. Jun is reserved, well mannered, and perpetually elegant, and yet as he moves through a series of life-changing events, he always seems to be drifting; we know which moments in his life are most significant because Revoyr points them out, not because she makes us feel what it’s like to be in his skin. Still, this is a tender, heartfelt book, and Revoyr certainly appreciates the gentle power of early cinema. At one point, Jun reflects on his life’s work: “There was a purity to silent films that can never be recaptured in this clamorous age of sound effects and talking. We who made them knew that the most vital parts of stories—as of life—can never be reduced to mere words. We understood that moving images are the catalysts of dreams—more eloquent when undisturbed by voices.” Revoyr resurrects the old old Hollywood, from the time before talkies, and dreams it into existence once again. An interesting take of that era. 3.5 stars
As a silent movies geek, I was really excited to start the book. But everything was very predictable and cliché and, sorry for that, so boring to read. The characters were not really developed... except for the hero’s gigantic ego. Really disappointed!
This is a hauntingly lovely story of a former silent movie star coming to grips with his past. It carried me back to a time when Hollywood was new and magical, while offering insights into the bigotry against Japanese Americans. The main character is so memorable—I would love to see a movie version of this poignant story.
During a time when Japanese Americans living in Los Angeles could only live in a few designated neighborhoods, and whites agitated for a Constitutional amendment to bar Japanese immigrants (and their American-born children) from attaining citizenship, Jun Nakayama becomes one of Hollywood's biggest and most unlikely stars. He appears in over 60 films, tours cross-country selling war bonds, appears on the cover of Photoplay, and makes women swoon in the theatre aisles.
But then in 1922, shortly after the murder of acclaimed director Ashley Bennett Tyler, Jun's career suddenly, mysteriously ends. Jun becomes a recluse, his old friends abandon him, he never appears in another film -- and he never tells anyone the reason why.
When the book begins, it's 1964, and little has changed for Jun; however, everything is about to. A silent movie theatre is opening on Fairfax, and an eager reporter named Nick Bellingham approaches Jun for an interview about the old days. Jun refuses outright, but Nick is persistent. Eventually, he reveals the real reason he's been pursuing Jun -- he's written a screenplay, has a studio interested, and wants Jun to star. The role is exactly the kind that always eluded Jun during his film career -- dignified, complex, sympathetic -- and he's intrigued enough to sit down with Nick.
The silent film historians who have written about Jun by 1964 blame his disappearance from the screen on a lack of good roles for Asian actors. However, no one knows the truth, and when a studio head begins digging up dirt, Jun realizes he can't relive his glory days without revisiting their darker moments.
Discovered in a theatre in Little Tokyo, Jun quickly becomes a sex symbol, enjoys the company of white starlets, and frequently plays villainous characters that offend the Japanese-American community.
Though he prides himself in avoiding the worst kinds of "houseboy" roles, his career stands in sharp contrast to his friend and foil, the Japanese actress Hanako Minatoya. At first, Hanako is his idol, then his mentor; however, their friendship becomes strained as the anti-Japanese sentiment in Hollywood grows more virulent. Hanako knows the score, and isn't afraid to stand up to the studios, while Jun lives in a state of denial, believing that his stardom will spare him.
In the end, though, it can't. And while many clues signal the cause of Jun's downfall in advance, his inability to see them for himself make the eventual revelation as shocking for readers as it is for Jun.
The narrative voice Revoyr creates for Jun is masterful, stretched taut with restrained emotion, longing, and lost opportunity. Revoyr also depicts early Hollywood with exquisite detail, rendered even more so by Jun's attempt to revisit some of his old haunts only to find them turned derelict. Though the book is many things -- an examination of racial prejudice, a murder mystery, an account of a too-forgotten era of moviemaking -- each element of the story fits together seamlessly.
And although it's the story of a man who has lost nearly everything, it's not a book that dwells in shadows and loss; the resolution is such a piece of beauty and four-square perfection, it will take your breath away.
I found this book on the dollar shelf at a local used bookstore. I don't even remember why I picked it up. I needed something to read for a trip, and it was a dollar, and the premise sounded intriguing (I like Old Hollywood stuff if it's done well) and when I read a test page I thought the writing was pretty good. I didn't even bring it on that trip, but I'm so glad I picked it up last weekend. That was officially the best dollar I've ever spent. I LOVED THIS BOOK. I don't even know how to describe how much I loved it. It fully occupied my brain while reading it and it's still bouncing around in there while I digest a few twists and turns. When I put it down I couldn't wait to get back to it. I read the first 50 pages on a train packed with tourists, and hardly noticed. It absorbed me from the first. A good deal of this had to do with the narrator. On the cover of my book, someone compared the narrative voice to "Remains of the Day," which I haven't read. What Jun's narration reminded me of was Iris of Margaret Atwood's "The Blind Assassin," a self-deceiving, self-important elderly figure looking back on the past. However, contrary to Iris, I was always 100% with Jun. I wanted to get to the secrets, of course, but I almost wanted him to hang on to his delusions. I liked him so much. But once we got through all of the revelations, I still liked him. This book was so satisfying, start to finish. And, gosh - heart-warming. Heart-warming without being cheesy. I could tell that the author had a lot of affection and sympathy for her characters, as imperfect as they were. She managed, too, to create one really good person, Hanako Minatoya, and make her one of those rare all-around-good characters who doesn't make the reader want to gag. There were a couple of flattish characters, but because the whole book was from Jun's perspective, I could forgive it. The contemporary ones (solely from the 1964 end of things, not his colleagues who appeared at both ends of time) were, with one important exception (), a little one-dimensional. But I believed that was mostly because of what Jun was choosing to tell us. Pretty much everything to do with the character Nora was (deliberately, I believe) squirm-worthy: Jun may describe her as having gone insane since the pivotal murder, but if Nora Minton Niles was ever sane in any part of the book, I am the ghost of Errol Flynn. When I was in college, one of my English major friends told me that if I was ever stuck for a good bullshit phrase when analyzing literature, I should use "the human condition." "Just say it's reflective of the human condition," he said. I don't think I ever resorted to that, or wanted to (although I thought it was pretty funny). But wouldn't you know that's kind of what I want to say now, no bullshit? Jun is so incredibly human: the way we like to present ourselves (to self and others) as inherently dignified and rational, but a certain amount of reflection and revelation will always unveil the petty, self-indulgent, mistaken and occasionally catastrophic choices we've made and will make. But for Jun, and all of us, this book seems to say, it's never too late to redeem those choices.
,b>Title: The Age of Dreaming Author: Nina Revoyr Genre: Literary fiction. Setting: Los Angeles in the 20's and 60's. Reason for Reading: 50 book project, book #41! Nine books to go! Relevance to the Project: I never gave silent films much thought. This was a really interesting exploration of what it was like at the beginning of film, seen through the lens of a protagonist who really has quite a lot he's trying to avoid thinking about. Finished In: It took me a bit to get going with this book - all in all I think it took me around a week and a half to read it. Pages: 327 Copyright Date: 2008 Cover: All in sepia tones except for a block with the author's name, it shows an old-fashioned, empty movie theater. Epigraph:"That for which we find words is something already dead in our hearts." - Friedrich Nietzsche First line: "When I heard about the opening of the Silent Movie Theater, I should have known that someone would look for me -- but the young man's phone call yesterday morning was still a surprise." Favorite quote:"I had been admired -- loved -- for years; that much was true. But like many loves that are forbidden or that carry the tint of shame, I'd been relinquished in the face of public disapproval." p 294 Themes and Triggers: Secrets, betrayal, friendship, unrequited love, movie industry, Japan, Los Angeles. Best part: This is a toss-up. On the one hand the prose is amazing. On the other hand I loved the way Revoyr makes up fictional silent movies for her protagonist to have starred in, carefully describing the plots, cast, and shooting. Worst part: The protagonist's avoidance of topics that stir up old feelings for him is extremely cleverly done and also in keeping with his character - but as we begin to realize just how much he's been hiding, from himself as well as us, it's a bit uncomfortable. It's meant to be, I believe. Imaginary Theme Song: I'm imagining an orchestral piece, the type that used to accompany silent movies. Grade: B+. This is an amazing book but it is not exactly fun. Recommended for: Those who enjoy haunting, lovely literary fiction will want to move it to the top of their lists. Related Reads:Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel.
I picked up this book because a reviewer compared the author's narrative voice to Kazuo Ishiguro's "The Remains of the Day." It did not disappoint me.
Jun Nakayama is a Japanese silent film star (obviously based on Sessue Hayakawa) who is living out his old age in total obscurity in Los Angeles after the abrupt ending of his career in 1922.
When an aspiring young screenwriter tracks him down in 1964 with an offer to arrange an audition for a role written especially for him, Jun dares to hope that his movie career might be revived.
But he must first seek out his surviving acquaintances from those early years of Hollywood in order to make sure that events surrounding the darkest episode of his life aren't revealed. As he embarks on this quest, he also looks back on his beginnings for the first time in years.
Like Ishiguro's butler Stevens in "Remains of the Day," Jun's restrained, proper narration lulls us into thinking that he is content with his life.
But rare breaks in his calm façade reveal that Jun is a very proud, even a bit vain, man who conceals his hunger for the fame and adulation of his lost career.
Again like Ishiguro's Stevens, Jun is also an unreliable narrator who almost willfully walls himself off from any unpleasant realities in his life, such as the blatant anti-Asian racial prejudice toward Japanese people living in California and the effect it has on his career. He also ignores the love of a fellow Japanese actress in favor of becoming involved with Caucasian actresses.
The dramatic tension of the plot is driven by the question of what forced Jun to leave his career, and builds as he slowly reveals what he has hidden from himself all of these years.
(Silent movie buffs might recognize the murder mystery at the center of Jun's troubles as the real-life unsolved murder of director William Desmond Taylor.)
Jun's gradual acceptance of his past leads to an unexpected but poignant ending.
Highly recommended for classic movie or Ishiguro fans.
I liked this book alright. I love the subject of old Hollywood, in particular the silent days, and I loved the storylines on the racism against the Japanese (something not written about very often, at least to my knowledge), but there was one big thing that bothered me about this book. The author does name check some of the more famous stars of that day, but the characters in the book are purely fiction. That being said, two of the major characters in the book, actress Nora Milton Niles and director Ashley Bennett Tyler, are supposed to be fiction, but everything about the characters, down to minute, specific details- same events happen in the same year to the "characters", similar sounding names, the involvement they have with one another, backgrounds, etc.- completely 100% rips off real life stars of the 10s and 20s, actress Mary Miles Minter and director William Desmond Taylor. Perhaps the author could've just used the actors' real names, or, (gasp!) a whole new idea all together? Then maybe it wouldn't have seemed so, well, silly.
As a massive movie fan, this novel is a loving testament to the era of silent films. It tells the story of Jun Nakayama, a young Japanese-American who became a huge star during the birth of Hollywood for about a decade and then disappeared until we find him again in his 70's who then receives a call from a journalist interested in the pictures of old; this ignites reliving memories Jun has been keeping locked away for over 40 years and sets off motions that are beautifully vivid and startling in nature.
Nina Revoyr does a brilliant job illustrating how sorrowful and ignorantly bliss the main character lives life and connects to others around him in ways even he doesn't fathom right away. The story is sad, sweet, and gratefully ends with the same feeling of charm that the black and white moving pictures enticed in those who witnessed their majesty.
Also the unsung hero of the work is Mrs. Bradford, the wonderful companion of older Jun, she is simply marvelous.
I really love this author. This book is different from the Necessary Hunger in every way, but still very compelling. Nina Revoyr is a Japanese-American woman who lives in Los Angeles, and this book explores the history of a Japanese-American silent film star. His rise to fame in a time when Japanese-Americans were reviled and discriminated against, and the personal struggles in his life that resulted in his choice to give up the acting work that he loved. There is a mystery involved, and yet this is not genre fiction. The story is told in the first person and slowly develops...the reader gradually comes to know more and more about the character of this man and the times and place he lived in. It is a unique and interesting read.
This story is told by a Japanese man who was a silent movie star. Because of his feeling of what is appropriate and what isn't, to me the writing was very stilted. However, I feel that is how it has to be. It also moved very slowly in parts. I did like the description of what Los Angeles was like during that time and how he saw it change, not only in appearance but also showing how society changed. I was disappointed in that the author took poetic license as to times certain things could take place. I like historical novels that are true to the history. I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys stories about early Hollywood.
This is a truly beautiful story with exquisite writing and a handful of killer sentences (no pun intended). We read this for a book group and because it was chosen for the West Hollywood reads program, and I'm so happy we did, or we might not have happened upon it. The characters are well developed, there are multiple stories within stories as well as a captivating primary narrative bridging two distinct periods of time. There's also a fascinating back story to the book, check out: http://www.vqronline.org/articles/201...
Compelling and likable characters, times, and setting—Hollywood in the early days of silent movies—make the novel, 'The Age of Dreaming,' by Nina Revoyr an engaging and delightful read. Told as a first-person narrative, it reads as part memoir, part mystery, and wholly entertaining.
Recommendation: Do add this one to your want-to-read shelf.
"Japanese students were barred from attending public schools."—page 44
Engrossing, fascinating. Compelling character - a Japanese film star in the U.S., and his secret. Mixes in history with fiction. Fast-paced, populates L.A. with the kind of the diversity that exists here and not stereotypes.
Relecture mais cette fois en anglais et je l'ai trouvé toujours aussi bien ! Des personnages attachants et un magnifique hommage au cinéma muet et à une époque où tous les rêves semblaient possibles.
Jun Nakayama was a hugely popular star in early days of the Hollywood depicted in this mystery by Nina Revoyr. He stopped acting in 1922 and never looked back, until a young movie buff calls him and starts asking questions. He left the business around the time of the murder of Ashley Bennett Tyler - coincidence?
If you're a student/fan of silent Hollywood, you'll see the transparent line drawn between this story and the murder of William Desmond Taylor, and how that affected the lives and careers of Mabel Normand and Mary Miles Minter (renamed "Nora Minton Niles" here). Revoyr takes the to-date-unsolved crime and puts her own twist on it. Jun brings with him his own backstory, and carries into the time of the murder extra layers of secrecy, racism and political chicanery.
Los Angelenos will recognize landmarks from earlier days. The Age of Dreaming starts in the 1910s and ends in 1966. I've only ever been able to visit the area, and even I spotted some things that were familiar and, surprisingly, still present at the time of my visits in the 2000s. Revoyr introduces some landmarks that I believe are pure fiction, and provides such lovely narrative to go with them that it makes me a bit sad that they aren't real places that I can walk into on my own.
You may start reading The Age of Dreaming and, if you love old Hollywood intrigue, think to yourself that you know how this story goes. I thought I did, and briefly considered moving on to a different book on that basis. Revoyr's writing style kept me turning the pages, however, and she surprised me again and again. I thought I knew what I was going to read, but I was mistaken.
"The Age of Dreaming" by Nina Revoyr confused me. Is it historical fiction or just fiction based on real life people and events? Every character has an historical counterpart, and the central plot twist is based on a true crime. Only the names have been changed, though other non-central characters are the actual Hollwood stars (Chaplin, Swanson, etc.). The main character, Jun Nakayama, is obviously based on Kintarō Hayakawa and the crime that changes everything is a direct retelling of the murder of William Desmond Taylor (named Ashley Tyler in the book). "Any resemblance to actual persons, events or locales is entirely coincidental." Really?
Now that I've gotten that out of the way, I did enjoy the book for what it is., the tale of a Japanese actor in early Hollywood. The description of silent film production as related to theatre was spot on. The prejudice against Japanese immigrants in California was well-researched. It really does make for a good story, though it is mostly one I've read before, just with different names.
In 1922, Jun Nakayama was a successful actor during the Golden Age of Hollywood, when his career was suddenly cut short by the murder of his friend and director Ashley Bennett Tyler. Due to this negative publicity, as well as the racist attitudes prevalent in the film industry at the time, Nakayama is suddenly unable to find work. Over forty years later, the aging actor is unexpectedly contacted by a young writer who has written a screenplay with Nakayama in mind for the lead role. Suddenly, he is thrust back into the movie business, and is forced to confront his past and the events that led to his obscurity. (The Internet Archive is well-known for its extensive collection of freely downloadable public domain texts, but it also offers a large collection of books still in copyright that are available to borrow for 14 days at a time. Before you check out a book, you’ll need to create an Internet Archive account.)
I was surprised by how much I enjoy this. This was my first time reading anything by this author, and I must say, if her other work is even half as good as this, I'd be happy.
From start to finish, this book was a delight to read. The pacing was perfect. The story unraveled slowly, but had just enough intrigue to keep you hooked. The characters were well developed and interesting. I felt completely transported to old Hollywood. I loved the name dropping of classic Hollywood actors. And I especially loved how the author so adequately discusses race and representation in Hollywood.
I also have to praise the ending. I actually found myself getting teary eyed at the end. I felt so deeply for the characters that I really found the ending bitter sweet and moving. I can't recommend this book enough.
I liked this book in spite of myself. Loved Revoyr's Southland, and had no problems with the purposely stilted first-person narrative. It was interesting to see a protagonist learn. But the numerous historical inaccuracies (much more frequently occurring than the two main anachronisms she acknowledges) kept throwing me out of the story. Sloppy is not something I would have applied to this writer, but this seems to have been poorly researched and fact-checked. Or maybe I just was more familiar with the 1960s Hollywood that is the story's main setting.
That said, I enjoyed the journey. I agree with another reviewer that Hanako Minatoya needs her own novel!
The Age of Dreaming is a beautifully written novel about an actor's rise and fall in Old Hollywood. Jun Nakayama, a Japanese-American, rose to fame by starring in silent films. A scandal forces Jun to leave the industry and retreat from public life. Later in life, Jun is content to live in obscurity until a reporter begins digging in his past, causing others to unearth painful secrets. I loved the characters. Wonderful storytelling! I have no interest in films or Hollywood's history, but I was completely engrossed in the plot.
I fairly enjoyed this story. It was incredible because we were taken from Jun Nakayama's childhood to his retirement age however the timeline is mixed but it wasn't confusing, the pacing was good and also the writing style. I was engrossed with the aspect of the silent film era. It was told with elegancy and artfully I could really picture the stories of the films where Jun starred in.
Jun Nakayama is a proud man that's for a fact and I'm kinda weirded out with what happened with Nora. The beginning, middle was good but the ending felt rushed and underwhelming despite of that it was still a solid read for me.