In an early scene in the movie "Memoirs of a Geisha," the seasoned geisha Mameha teaches Chiyo, the 12-year-old girl sold by her poverty-stricken father into the life of women entertainers, how to kneel and bow properly, to rise with grace and to walk seductively.

Mameha, played by the Malaysian-Chinese actress Michelle Yeoh, was plausible as a geisha as she emitted an outward elegance and inward sadness in her shadowy life as mistress to a wealthy baron.

In contrast, Chinese actress Ziyi Zhang, playing the novice named Sayuri, was unconvincing as she entered the ranks of accomplished geisha.

Zhang was gorgeous and earnest but lacked that subtlety that creates the mystery surrounding geisha.

One dancing scene was so un-geisha and un-Japanese that it looked like it had been stolen from the movie musical "Chicago" that was turned out by the same director, Rob Marshall.

To my Japanese eyes, the way the women wore kimono was clumsy and their hairstyles were wrong. The rowdy streets did not look like Gion, the fashionable geisha quarter in Kyoto, the ancient capital where I went to university. The cinematography was stunning but marred by cliches such as repeated scenes of a Buddhist temple at sunset.

Yet the story of the resilience of a girl who survived in a harsh environment and her love for the only man who cared for her was moving, thus creating a mixed reaction in this viewer.

"Memoirs of a Geisha" reflects a long history of Western fascination with Japanese women who live to please men, beginning with Commodore Matthew Calbraith Perry of the U.S. Navy, who forced Japan to open after two centuries of isolation.

The first U.S. consul, Townsend Harris, lived with a 17-year-old geisha, Okichi, in 1855. French novelist Pierre Loti published "Madame Chrysantheme" in 1887, and British composer Sidney Jones' musical "The Geisha" opened in London in 1896.

The most famous was the opera "Madame Butterfly" by Giacomo Puccini, an Italian, that made its debut at La Scala in Milan in 1904.

Now "Memoirs of a Geisha" has once again raised the question that has long intrigued Westerners: Are geisha prostitutes?

The answer is a qualified "No."

By seeing where they work, Japanese know if a geisha is an artist or a call girl passing herself off as geisha. In Tokyo, geisha in Shinbashi, Yanagibashi and Akasaka are good-looking, proud and intelligent. They excel in traditional dance, the musical instrument called shamisen, and in songs.

Romance with them by chance encounter is almost impossible, and an overnight relationship unheard of.

Qualified geisha are members of a union called kenban that controls working conditions and fees for performances. Community leaders see that standards of artistic skills and reputations of geisha are preserved.

As the derogatory expression onsen geisha or hot-spa geisha implies, however, some who call themselves geisha may have little cultural training and may be available for one-night stands.

A man who desires a geisha to be his mistress faces formidable obstacles. First, he must win the consent of the geisha and the owner of the house, called okiya, to which she belongs. Then he must be wealthy enough to pay monthly stipends and buy new kimono for each season.

Each kimono may cost several tens of thousands of dollars. Even CEOs of big corporations cannot easily afford such luxury, not to say incurring the wrath of their wives.

Geisha usually remain mistresses because their self-imposed ethic prohibits them from demanding the status of formal wives, although there have been exceptions.

A few businessmen, diplomats, or bankers have risked their careers to marry geisha. If children are borne by the mistress, the patron often recognizes their right to inherit a share of their father's estate.

The first known geisha were "persons with artistic skills" in the 17th century when samurai ruled the country. The shogunate imposed strict controls on brothels, called "pleasure quarters."

In the entertainment business, geisha danced and played music but were different from tayu and oiran, who were available for sex in exchange for money. The geisha's beauty and dazzling talent stimulated painters, playwrights and storytellers to describe their "floating world," or "ukiyo."

In samurai culture were two images about women: "good" and "bad."

Women from decent families were to marry and bear children to continue the family line. They would be perfect wives, mothers and matriarchs. Women from poor families with brains and skill could survive by becoming entertainers. Their image was that of free, wild, seductive or promiscuous women.

Wives were not allowed to attend social occasions where men other than their husbands were present because it would damage their dignity to serve male guests. Therefore, entertainers poured drinks and played music to please men.

This split image of womanhood, between saint and prostitute, has survived for centuries, with the culture of geisha perched in a gray area between the two.

After World War II, Japan developed into a solid middle-class society, and stories like the plight of the sold Chiyo were rare. Moreover, few girls today are willing to go through hard training to become geisha, and their number has dwindled to a few thousand, mostly in Tokyo, Osaka and Kyoto.

Still, politicians and business leaders frequently patronize ryotei or ocha-ya, those upscale Japanese-style restaurants or teahouses that arrange for geisha to join guests because they can expect total privacy.

The madam, the geisha, and even the caretakers of the shoes at the entrance hall are close-mouthed about who came, what was talked about and what decisions were made.

Political and business negotiations among top leaders, including prime ministers, have often been made on such occasions.

Popular magazines display photos of famous geisha, as they are considered to be the best-dressed women in kimono. They are known for their taste in iki, or chic, which means sophisticated yet not pompous, light-hearted but not shallow, balanced but not obsessed in emotion.

In a world beyond mundane conventions, iki rejects expressions that are too explicit, too gorgeous or too aggressive.

Altogether, "Memoirs of a Geisha" is the latest reflection of the lure of geisha whose myth is more powerful than reality. Geisha continue to appeal to both Japanese and Westerners with their elusive sensuality and their ability to create a fantasy that promises an escape from real life.