Japan still inhabits its own ancestral universe
EVERY MORNING, MY JAPANESE WIFE HIROKO GETS OUT OF bed before dawn and boils hot water to make tea for her father. It hardly matters that he died six years ago. The household altar on which she also lays out his favorite snacks sits next to the boom box on which she’ll soon be blasting out Green Day’s “21st Century Breakdown.” When she gets a day off from the Paul Smith store where
