I'm currently almost finished Memoirs of a Geisha and... well, I'm slightly disappointed.

Aside: Saw King Arthur last night and that was a bit disappointing too. This is getting to be a regular thing. I think I need to work on my standards of storytelling, or I'm just going to be disappointed by media for the rest of my life.

Anyway. Geisha. So we all know that Geisha are fabulous because they are educated and clever and it's not just about the sex, right? Well paint me stupid, because if I was just going by Memoir, I'd think that no, actually, it was all about the sex. The thing that seems to be making our heroine-narrator a famous Geisha isn't her much-vaunted cleverness, just the fact that she's a very pretty 15-year-old virgin with startling eyes. And the older Geisha, who's held up as the epitome of everything wonderful in Geishaness, still seems to be of the opinion that truly clever conversation with a man involves making rather direct comments about yourself naked.

Honestly. If I couldn't flirt more intelligently than that, I'd have to commit seppuku.

And yeah, they're thoroughly accomplished young ladies, inasmuch as they are taught to dance and play six different instruments and perform the tea ceremony, but are they taught anything of actual interest in developing their minds? Of course not. Mr Darcy wouldn't consider them accomplished at all. Not sure I do, either.

Frankly, from this source, Geisha parties sound to me like the cheerleaders entertaining the football team.