OUR world is watching the fading of an extraordinary generation; one that spent six years fighting wars and protecting its empire in an unchartered world supported by nothing but the strength of
their own, often increasingly quirky, personalities.
The closest that most of us can get nowadays to these remarkable people of an age long gone is through the autobiographies, biographies, and obituaries they have left behind.
A new book, published yesterday by the Scottish Cultural Press, Japanese Whisky, Scotch Blend by Olive Checkland, has excavated the lives of two people who pushed the boundaries of their societies and forced the edges of two opposing cultures to interlace at a time when the countries were at war.
Masataka Taketsuru, was born to a highly-traditional
sake-brewing family from Takehara, a coastal town 50 miles east of Hiroshima, in 1893.
As a boy, he was expected to follow his father into the family business but a scuffle sealed his fate: a particularly violent blow to his nose left the young Masataka exceptionally sensitive to smell, a talent he later used to identify dozens of different whisky brands by their aroma.
In his early twenties, apparently from nowhere, Masataka developed a tunnel-visioned determination to distil genuine whisky in Japan in place of the substitute version that was accepted throughout the country.
Masataka's passion bought him half-way around the world to Scotland at the age of 25. He spent two solitary years combing Scottish distilleries, turning age-old,
rule-of-thumb procedures into portable scientific formulae.
During the lonely and chilly Christmas of 1920, Masataka met and fell in love with a delicate and conventional girl from the small town of Kirkintilloch on the outskirts of Glasgow.
Rita Cowan, at 23, was living a life of faded prosperity with her mother and three siblings after the death of her father, Dr Samuel Campbell Cowan, the previous year.
Although Rita had studied at Glasgow's Athenaeum college, she was treated as a semi-invalid by her family, eking out her days in their crumbling house reading poetry and playing the piano.
Perhaps aware that Masataka's would be the best, if not only, offer she would receive, Rita seized her opportunity with both hands. She broke away from her tight-knit family and determined to re-root herself in a country where women lived a life of subjugation and
self-sacrifice, dedicating themselves to the will of their husbands.
News of the marriage scandalised communities on opposite sides of the world. Masataka had already marked himself out as an unusual man but his extempore mixed marriage was devastating to a country where arranged marriages were seen as the essential ingredient of a happy and successful life.
Nevertheless, the couple slipped away and married in a register office without the knowledge or permission of either family. Rita's 16-year-old sister and her friend acted as witnesses and the diminutive party ate an illicit celebratory meal afterwards at the nearby Station Hotel.
Masataka was risking scandal in a country defined by tradition and obedience, and exposing Rita to life as an outsider by taking her back to Japan, but his monomania demanded that he return.
The newly-married couple won a delicate peace with Rita's mother, despite her initial demand to have the marriage annulled, and made the long journey back to Japan.
A scandalised extended family on their best behaviour met the couple off the boat. But although Rita threw herself into her new life in Yoichi, adopting the national dress, language, and traditions, she was stymied by xenophobic laws.
No mixed marriage in
early-twentieth century Japan could be listed in the official family register and mixed-race children were prevented from continuing the family line themselves.
After a miscarriage, the couple bowed to tradition and adopted two Japanese children; a boy to inherit the family business and a girl, whom they called Rima (derived from the first two letters of Rita and Masataka's names).
The gradual realisation of Masataka's dream took him further from home for longer periods of time and Rita wore herself down trying to perfect the family home during his absences.
During the war between the Allies and Japan, Rita was treated as a traitor. She was spat at in the streets and followed by government agents at the same time that her naturalised state subjected her to the same tyrannies imposed on all Japanese civilians.
Rita's early death, alone in a hospital with Masataka far away, in 1961 coincided with the sudden success of Masataka's struggle.
Masataka started his business with nothing but an obsession. By the time of his death in 1979, he had been awarded six honours from the Emperor and his home town and was the head of a thriving company whose conquests included Usquebaugh whiskies in Scotland, Jim Beam brand in America, and Black Velvet group in Canada.
But the adventures of Rita and Masataka have another legacy: Kirkintilloch and Yoichi are officially twin towns, whose children are still raised with the story of their remarkable ancestors.
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