“But now I know that our world is no more permanent than a wave rising on the ocean. Whatever our struggles and triumphs, however we may suffer them, all too soon they bleed into a wash, just like watery ink on paper.”

I appreciate these last sentences from Arthur Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha even though my life is starkly different than the main character who is reflecting on her life. It speaks of accepting the twists life takes beyond our control. As a reader you enter the foreign world of geisha culture with Golden’s vivid detail and the heart behind it. The book jacket touts the novel as alluring, brilliant and dazzling. Did it live up to these accolades in your opinion?