A Family's Heirloom China: The Echoes of History
An 'Interabled' Couple
To the Editor:
Re 'Five Women, Heirloom China and the Reverence It May Lose' (front page, Jan. 5):
Rukmini Callimachi's sad but lovely tale of doomed heirloom dishes evokes a complicated reaction. Of course it is impractical to dine regularly using such items, or in many cases even to find space to keep all of them. But to what extent do the issues go beyond the specifics of eating habits to encompass a current lack of interest in our own histories?
Do younger people who don't care about these old items also feel no connection to any other family heirlooms — to the concrete artifacts of their own family stories?
I am reminded of my shock when my aunt informed me that the photo albums my grandfather had taken onboard a ship from Tokyo to Seattle in 1919 had been tossed in a dumpster, because 'we never met those people and we can't read Japanese.' (Thankfully a cousin rescued them and later gave them to me for safekeeping.)
How many people know the biographical details of their long gone ancestors? Where do we draw the line between lack of space and failure of imagination? Might not there be room for a few saucers, if only to put coins and keys in, along with a bit of the history they represent?
Andrew S. Mine
Chicago
To the Editor:
I drank in every word of your article about heirloom china. On Saturday excursions during the heyday of the department store, my mother, aunt and I visited china departments in much the way others might check out a new exhibit at a gallery.
We eagerly parsed the differences between brands, debating the relative merits of plates with vibrant patterns versus those adorned only with elegant bands of silver or gold.
Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.
Thank you for your patience while we verify access.
Already a subscriber? Log in.
Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Los Angeles Times
a day ago
- Los Angeles Times
When the going gets tough for L.A., our city rallies like no other
Los Angeles has portals to its future sprinkled across the city: Silicon Beach. Hollywood. Public schools. The ruins of Pacific Palisades. What goes on inside at City Hall and the Hall of Administration. But why go to those obvious choices when trying to figure out which way L.A. is going when the best answer is right in front of Platinum Showgirls LA? I parked next to the downtown gentleman's club on a recent weekday morning to do just that. A hulking security guard stood outside the entrance, the 101 Freeway buzzing nearby. So were the street vendors setting up for another day of business, damn the migra agents driving in and out of the Metropolitan Detention Center just up Commercial Street. But I wasn't there for the sights or sounds — or what was going on inside Platinum Showgirls. I was there to scour the sidewalk for a plaque dedicated to a tree. For centuries, a six-story-tall sycamore stood near this slice of land and saw empires come and go. Indigenous people from across Southern California and beyond gathered under its shade for special councils and to meet with its caretakers, the residents of the village of Yaanga. It was an awe-inspiring sight for the pobladores who came from Mexico in 1789 and set up El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles in the name of the Spanish crown. The sycamore — now bearing the name El Aliso — appears as a towering black splotch in the first known photo of Los Angeles, shot in the early 1860s when the city was in the process of turning from a Mexican village into an American town. When El Aliso was finally chopped down in 1895, felled by brewery owners who inadvertently killed the giant after cutting off too many limbs and paving over its roots, residents took chips from it as a memento mori of sorts. But El Aliso never truly died. It lived on in the history books but especially in the memory of the descendants of the people who had seen the sycamore grow from a seed to a giant. In 2019, members of the Kizh-Gabrieleño Band of Mission Indians were present as representatives from the city of Los Angeles laid a bronze plaque on the sidewalk at the northeast corner of Commercial and Vignes streets — in the shadow of what was then a different strip club — to commemorate El Aliso. 'While its physical presence is gone,' the plaque stated, 'the oral history handed down through the generations has kept its beauty and story alive in the Kizh people.' I was looking to read those words for myself, to touch them and the etching of El Aliso that hovered above the dedication. To take inspiration from this fundamental part of L.A.'s past in hopes of divining its future. But when I finally figured out where the plaque was supposed to be, I found a shallow slot strewn with trash and the remnants of the adhesive that once kept the plaque in its place. Leave it to 2025 for thieves to make off with a memorial to L.A.'s mother tree. The fires. The raids. Housing inequality. Homelessness. Cost of living. Trump's never-ending war against L.A. anything. Is the Big One around the corner? Probably. Nothing seems to be going right in Lost Angeles right now. Trump says it. Too many residents feel it. Too many former Angelenos scream it. How can one possibly even think about a better future when the present is so bad? How can one even think about any future when the current outlook seems so bleak? But as I walked back to my car, an answer occurred to me that I wasn't expecting to be so hopeful. Before I joined The Times in 2019, I never had any real interest or investment in L.A. Oh, I visited family and friends and paid some attention to the political scene from my native Anaheim. Went to UCLA for graduate school, haunted the Sunset Strip and Thai Town for rock en español shows in my cub reporter days. But L.A. was just … L.A. Huge. Cool. Really diverse. But special? No more so than any other great world city. I never felt the metropolis up the 5 to be a den of grossness like too many of my fellow Orange Countians still think it is. It also never called to me as a promised land like it did to my creative O.C. friends, either. I generally rooted for L.A., but its future meant nothing to me. My opinion obviously changed as I began to cover it as a columnist starting in 2020 and tried to commit the layout and vibe of the city to my mind. One of the first things that struck me in a way I never anticipated was how precarious everyone felt their lives to be. Oh, I had read enough Joan Didion, Mike Davis, Nathaneal West and other writers to not be too surprised by this. But seeing it manifested was something else, and it made a lot of things about the city finally click. From the Westside to the Eastside, from Wilmington through South L.A. and all the way to the San Fernando Valley, I met person after person who acted and lived as if what they had scraped for themselves was at risk of disappearing in an instant, in the most disastrous fashion imaginable. I initially thought this betrayed an insecurity in the Angeleno soul, but then I realized it was something worse. If anyone's L.A. dream could crumble at any moment, that meant you had to defend it at any cost — and especially at the expense of everyone else. The more I talked to people and studied L.A. history, the more this outsider felt that the idea of fighting for the dream was what created a famously segregated city that too often erupts, whether electorally or otherwise. In an era where stratification is worse than ever and the federal government has declared war on various fronts — legal, psychological, financial — the L.A. of the past can't be the guiding light for the L.A. of the future. The city might have grown and operated as 19 suburbs in search of a metropolis — as Aldous Huxley infamously wrote — through most of the 20th century, but it's time to act like a united front if we're going to successfully navigate the rest of the 21st. And the rallying cry should be what we're going through right now, what L.A. has weathered again and again: Disaster. Because when the going gets tough for L.A., the city rallies like only it can. Americans should see this resilience and the subsequent spur of creativity and hope as a blueprint on how to fight back and not just survive, but thrive better than ever. Nothing has proved this more than our current year, with two catastrophes that would have buckled, if not outright destroyed, other cities. The Palisades and Eaton fires in January were infernos of biblical dimensions. People died, houses were incinerated, neighborhoods were eradicated. The suffering will continue for years, if not decades. Residents know their past can never be recaptured — and yet they continue to rebuild for whatever's next. Angelenos could've stayed to themselves in the aftermath, but they chose not to. They choose not to. The rest of L.A. has stood up to help survivors through financial donations and clothing and food drives and benefits that continue and whatever folks in the Palisades and Altadena need. At one of the city's darkest hours, Los Angeles shone brighter than ever. I write this columna during a long deportation summer unleashed on L.A. and beyond by a native son of Santa Monica in what amounts to a racist revanchist snit. Even a generation ago, large swaths of L.A. would have been cheering on the raids. But today's L.A. isn't having it. As with the fires, fundraisers and mutual aid societies and neighborhood watch groups have sprouted. The city, from Mayor Karen Bass to street vendors, knows that it's up against an Orwellian apparatus that wants us to collapse — and that L.A. will win. Because L.A. always wins. We might not know how the victory will look, but we know it'll happen. See how I use 'we'? Because while I plan to forever live in Orange County, I want to be a part of this future L.A. — an area, a people that teaches the rest of the United States how we'll triumph as calamities of all types seem to crash down on this country with increasing regularity. All of the stories and columns in this package are about that, from housing to fires, disasters to palm trees, transportation to climate change and beyond. No one thinks it's going to be easy — if anything, it's probably going to be harder than ever. But everyone expects victory. The miracle of L.A. has gone too far for it to fail. Which takes me back to El Aliso. I haven't read anything about the theft of its plaque, so I'm not sure when it happened. But people will read this and be upset. People will do something to mark El Aliso's existence in front of a gentleman's club near the 101 Freeway once more. That means El Aliso will continue to live — maybe as a plaque, maybe as a hologram, maybe as something even grander. It can't die, because that means we will. It must live, because that means so will the rest of us. L.A. is frequently seen as a place of destruction, where the past is bulldozed and forgotten and then trivialized and romanticized. But the Native American tribes that the Spaniards tried to eradicate are still here. The Latinos that Manifest Destiny tried to vanquish are now nearly half of the population of this most American of cities. L.A. will survive whatever happens next. We will figure it out. We always do. There's no other way. There's no other option.
New York Post
2 days ago
- New York Post
Nagasaki mayor warns about possibility of nuclear war 80 years after A-bomb
NAGASAKI – Thousands bowed their heads in prayer in Nagasaki on Saturday to mark the 80th anniversary of the city's atomic bombing, as the mayor warned that current global conflicts could push the world again into nuclear war. The western Japanese city was levelled on August 9, 1945, when the United States dropped a 10,000-pound plutonium-239 bomb, nicknamed 'Fat Man', instantly killing some 27,000 of the city's estimated 200,000 people. By the end of 1945, the death toll from acute radiation exposure had reached about 70,000. Nagasaki's destruction came three days after a U.S. uranium-235 bomb destroyed Hiroshima. Advertisement 6 Catholics leave Urakami Cathedral for a peace march to Hypocenter Park, on the 80th anniversary of the bombing of the city of Nagasaki. REUTERS 6 Japan's Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba offers a flower wreath for the victims of the 1945 atomic bombing. REUTERS Japan surrendered on August 15, ending World War Two. After a moment of silence at 11:02 a.m., marking the time of the blast, Mayor Shiro Suzuki called on leaders to return to the principles of the U.N. Charter and show a concrete path toward abolishing nuclear weapons, warning that delay was 'no longer permissible'. Advertisement 'This is a crisis of human survival that is closing in on each and every one of us,' Suzuki told the crowd, estimated by Japanese media at 2,700. He quoted the testimony of a survivor to illustrate the reality of a nuclear attack: 'Around me were people whose eyeballs had popped out… Bodies were strewn about like stones.' 'Is it not this 'global citizen' perspective that will serve as the driving force behind stitching back together our fragmented world?' Suzuki asked, calling for a solution based on mutual understanding and solidarity. Advertisement The U.S. military is believed to have chosen Nagasaki as a target due to its significance as a major industrial and port city. The city's geographical features, including its hilly terrain, were also thought to concentrate the blast. 6 The Japanese city was hit on August 9, 1945, when the United States dropped a 10,000-pound plutonium-239 bomb, instantly killing some 27,000 of Nagasaki's estimated 200,000 people. Buyenlarge via Getty Images 6 'This is a crisis of human survival that is closing in on each and every one of us,' Mayor Shiro Suzuki said, calling for a concrete path to abolishing nuclear weapons. AP Advertisement Representatives from 95 countries and territories, including nuclear superpower the United States, and Israel — which neither confirms nor denies having nuclear weapons — attended the annual ceremony at the Nagasaki Peace Memorial Park for the milestone year. Russia, which possesses the world's largest nuclear stockpile, was also represented. Daiji Kawanaka, a 14-year-old tourist from Osaka, echoed the mayor's sentiments. 6 Doves are released over the Peace Statue during a ceremony to mark the anniversary of the atomic bombing at the Peace Park in Nagasaki. AP 'I truly believe a tragedy like this must never be repeated,' he told Reuters, saying the anniversary prompts conversations about peace even among his young peers. 'We can only pledge to take the initiative ourselves in making a step toward peace.' Japan's leading organization of A-bomb survivors, Nihon Hidankyo, won the Nobel Peace Prize last year for campaigning for a world without nuclear weapons. Survivors, known as 'hibakusha', continue to suffer the effects from radiation and social discrimination. 6 Japan is the only country to have suffered nuclear attacks. REUTERS Advertisement With their numbers falling below 100,000 for the first time this year, their stories fuel ongoing efforts to advocate for a nuclear-free world. Japan, the only country to have suffered nuclear attacks, has stated its commitment to nuclear disarmament but is not a signatory or observer of the U.N. treaty to ban nuclear weapons.
New York Times
2 days ago
- New York Times
Timely Manner
A recent story in The Times, by Emily Laber-Warren, describes the ways we relate to time, dividing us into two groups. Monochronic people 'tend to live by the clock and are primed, at least during work hours, to prioritize obligations over relationships.' Polychronic people, on the other hand, 'tend to give primacy to experiences and relationships that don't always fit neatly into prearranged schedules.' If you prefer to work on one thing at a time, emphasizing deadlines and seeing interruptions as irritating, you're monochronic. Those who are good at multitasking, who comfortably allow shifts in their schedules if, for example, a friend comes to town and wants to go for a hike — those people are probably polychronic. The article insists there are downsides with each time personality. Monochronic people can be rigid, missing out on serendipity. Polychronic people can be easily distracted and can have difficulty finishing what they start. But I found myself thinking, as I often do when I read about socially scientific binaries — Type A vs. Type B, maximizers vs. satisficers — that it's secretly better to be the more laid-back type, that life is richer and more fulfilling if you're less rigid and don't, say, view a deadline the way a beast of burden does a plowman's whip. Despite my efforts to be loose and breezy with time, I'm pretty regimented. Calling myself 'monochronic' allows me to justify what I have always characterized as an undesirable uptightness. While I want to be productive, I want so much more to prioritize relationships over industry, to say 'this can wait' when I'm fast at work and someone calls with last-minute theater tickets. We're obsessed with our attention these days, how it's been captured by our screens, attenuated by too-busy schedules and the impossible pace of modern life. Monotasking is seen as an advantageous skill, deep work and flow states the antidotes to cognitive fatigue. But as we try to marshal our attention, it seems possible we will be tempted to overcorrect. My monochronic preference for uninterrupted stretches of time in which to work — oh, the exquisite relief of turning on 'Do Not Disturb' on my laptop and knowing that it will also silence my phone, my iPad, the text alerts and weather alerts and news alerts and calendar alerts! — often keeps me from engaging with things that would bring me pleasure. I've missed perfect 75-degree days because I need to finish chores before I relax. I tell myself that nothing will feel as good as getting things done, but then I think of the cliché about people on their deathbeds never saying they wish they'd spent more time working. There's hope: Time personalities are preferences, not traits, so we can shift them. The aim, as in all things, is balance, being nimble enough to shift from one style to another as the situation prescribes. 'Is your goal here relationship building? Then go polychronic,' one expert in the article advised. 'If your goal is to complete a task, then we need to be monochronic for a window of time and shut out all distractions.' While switching gears may feel uncomfortable for those of us conditioned to do the thing until the thing is done, this framing highlights the stakes. Completing the task feels good, but — here comes the deathbed again — the accomplishment is hollow without some flexibility, without letting in the possibility for surprise, serendipity and delight. AMERICA AND THE WORLD President Trump will meet with Vladimir Putin in Alaska next week to talk about ending the war in Ukraine. Putin hasn't been face-to-face with an American president since 2021. President Volodymyr Zelensky of Ukraine rejected President Trump's proposal of a peace deal that could mean ceding land to Russia. At the White House yesterday, the leaders of Armenia and Azerbaijan said they would end their long and bloody conflict. Trump directed the military to target Latin American drug cartels, a role previously carried out by law enforcement. But Mexico's president said U.S. forces are unwelcome in her country. 'We cooperate, we collaborate, but there is not going to be an invasion,' she said. TRUMP ADMINISTRATION Trump is removing the head of the I.R.S., two months after he was confirmed. For now, the Treasury secretary will run the agency, which has seen six different leaders this year. An appeals court said Judge James Boasberg could not investigate Trump officials for criminal contempt after they sent migrants abroad despite his order not to. Trump doesn't seem to mind that his health secretary, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., is undoing his vaccine legacy. Trump wants U.C.L.A. to pay $1 billion to restore its research funding, far more than other universities have agreed to. REDISTRICTING The Texas attorney general moved to oust 13 Democrats from the Legislature. They left the state to block a new map of congressional districts that favors Republicans. Is that allowed? 'It's never been done before,' the attorney general conceded. Our reporters explain the law. INTERNATIONAL Colombia and Peru are fighting a war of words over who owns a tiny island in the Amazon River that is home to 3,000 people. Israel says it is preparing to take control of Gaza City. What does that mean? How do Times journalists report on the aid crisis in Gaza? Using interviews, data, witness footage, satellite imagery, photography and more. They explain here. OTHER BIG STORIES An Army veteran wanted for the killing of four people at a Montana bar was captured after an eight-day manhunt. James A. Lovell Jr., commander of the near-catastrophic Apollo 13 mission, died at 97. He was etched in cinema history when Tom Hanks, playing him in a 1995 movie, uttered the line, 'Houston, we have a problem.' A gunman fired at the headquarters of the C.D.C. in Atlanta, killing one police officer before being fatally shot. An official said the man was fixated on the Covid vaccine, which he believed had made him ill. Film and TV For some millennials, Lindsay Lohan and Jamie Lee Curtis's return in 'Freakier Friday,' a sequel to the 2003 movie, will provide a surge of nostalgia. Our critic says the movie works best 'if you're there for the memories.' Curtis, Lohan and their two new co-stars sat down with The Times to discuss the sequel — and what's changed in the 22 years since the first. Read the interview here. Speaking of 2000s nostalgia: Photos of 'The Devil Wears Prada 2' being filmed on the streets of New York are everywhere. Esther Zuckerman explores what that means in an era of anti-spoiler culture. Zach Cregger, director of the 2022 horror movie 'Barbarian,' is back with 'Weapons.' Both films show his skill at melding laughs and screams, our critic writes. Music 'Fleetwood Mac,' the 1975 album that turned the band into superstars, is getting a 50th anniversary rerelease. After half a century, the music still gleams, Jon Pareles writes. A new book, 'The Gods of New York,' traces four transformative years in the city, 1986 to 1990. Jonathan Mahler, the book's author and a Times reporter, offers a playlist of early rap that captures the turmoil of that era. More Culture For the last two years, the Delacorte Theater — home of Free Shakespeare in the Park — has been closed for an update. Here's a look at the $85 million renovation. London is a global capital for Indian restaurants. Some of the city's most beloved eateries, including the chain Dishoom, are making their way to the U.S. The teen jewelry chain Claire's has filed for bankruptcy for a second time. By Desiree Ibekwe 🎸 Ethel Cain, 'Willoughby Tucker, I'll Always Love You' (Out now): On a summer's day about two years ago, standing in a field in West London, I fell in love with the music of Ethel Cain, the southern gothic persona of the singer Hayden Anhedönia. It happened during her performance of 'A House in Nebraska,' a cinematic, nearly eight-minute track about regret and lost love. There was more where that came from — much of the rest of her 2022 debut album, 'Preacher's Daughter,' was just as rich and just as evocative. This new album is supposed to be second in a trilogy of albums from Ethel's perspective — I'm looking forward to entering her cinematic universe once more. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
