Sweden by Matthew Turner

(Book Review)

Started: September 6, 2019
Finished: September 22, 2019

From the back cover: "It's 1968.  As war rages in Vietnam, a group of American deserters hold up in Japan plot their escape with help from local peace activists. Their destination: Sweden."

Why I Read This Book / My Connections to the Author
So, I actually have a connection (of sorts) to the author of this book.
The author, Matthew Turner, has been an occasional commenter on this blog over the years.  Although for years I only knew him by his blogging nom de plume: Walking Fool.
The first comment I got from him was 10 years ago in 2009 on my post on Hiji Town.

Walking fool said...
I'm thoroughly enjoying your blog. I stumbled across it by chance after googling Thomas Stanley and being directed to your review of his Osugi Sakae biography. Anyway, ganbatte kudasai!
February 26, 2009 at 3:50 PM

He's returned several times over the years since then to drop me an occasional line on this blog.

He contacted me last month to tell me he had written a book.  (I had no idea.)  And he graciously offered to send me a copy.  The book got to me safely out here in Vietnam, and here I am with my review.

In 13 years of book reviewing, this is a first time I've ever had the occasion to review something by an author I know.  And even though I don't really know Matthew Turner in real life, I'm always flattered when someone takes the time to read a blog post I wrote and leave a comment on it.  So my feelings towards the Walking Fool are entirely positive.
I've done my best to try to be objective in my review of this book, and I've tried to be just as critical as I would with any other author.  (I've been giving my honest opinion about books for 13 years, so it would be a pity to mar that streak now.)
...at least so far as conscious thought goes.  But there's no telling how my subconscious is influencing me.  Maybe I was subconsciously more positive towards this book.  Or, maybe in an effort to over-compensate and convince myself that I was being objective, I veered too far in the other direction and was overly critical.  I guess what I'm saying is take my opinion with a grain of salt.

Background Information
Regular readers of this blog know that one of my historical interests is the 1960s Japanese student protest movement and the anti-Vietnam War movement in Japan.  It was something I got into when I was still a student, and wrote a short college paper on it.  And it was also something I tried to learn more about when I was in Japan, although I was always hampered by a lack of accessible sources in English.  (There is English research on this, but it's mostly buried in academic journals, and I didn't have access to them.)  But I read what English I could find, and also spent a lot of time listening to personal stories from  older Japanese people.  I've talked about the subject on this blog many times before.  See: HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE and more.
Matthew Turner, it turns out, is also interested in this exact same area of Japanese history.  But whereas I just dabbled in it, he's actually thoroughly researched it.  He's fluent in Japanese.  (He's spent his whole life studying Japanese language and culture).  He's gone to the academic journals and read the scholarly sources in both English and Japanese.  And he's used that information to write a historical novel about the period.
The novel mixes history and fiction together, but it's based on real historical events.  During the Vietnam War, there was a citizen's anti-war group in Japan called Beheiren (W).  (The name is a shortening of "Betonamu ni Heiwa o Shimin Rengo", which is Citizen's League for Peace in Vietnam in Japanese).  Among other anti-war activities, Beheiren gained international attention for smuggling U.S. deserters out of Japan and into neutral countries like Sweden.  (There were a lot of U.S. military bases in Japan during the Vietnam War, so many U.S. soldiers deserted in Japan.  However because Japan was officially a U.S. ally during the war, the U.S. soldiers were not safe until they were smuggled into a neutral country.)
Beheiren was most famous for smuggling "The Intrepid 4" to Sweden in 1967, (something I wrote about briefly HERE).  But it wasn't just this one high profile act.  In addition to this, they actually smuggled a lot of U.S. deserters out of Japan between 1967 and 1970.
Matthew Turner's novel is a fictional story that imagines one of these other missions.  It's fiction, but it several of the incidents in the novel appear to be based on several real-life incidents from this period that Matthew Turner picked up in his research.

The Review
It's difficult to imagine a book that is more perfectly suited to my own unique interests than this one.
I've always loved historical fiction. (As I've written many times before on this blog, I history, and I love stories, and I love mixing the two.)  So imagine how pleased I was when someone came along and wrote a historical novel on the exact area of history I was interested in.

At the same time, I was slightly worried.  This was the first I had heard of The Walking Fool having any literary ambitions.  Could he actually write well?  What are the odds that the book is going to be any good?  And since this was his first novel, I was sure there was going to be some room for improvement.
I was actually, truth be told, slightly nervous that I would hate the book, and then have to write a negative review of it, and end the friendship.

But the good news is, the prose works.  Matthew Turner can indeed actually write.
Early on, I caught myself getting immersed in the scenes, and then I knew the rest of the book was going to be alright.
(Funny thing: you don't actually realize your immersed in a book while you're immersed in it--that would ruin the immersion.  But I was at a coffee shop, and something distracted me while I was reading and caused me to briefly put the book aside.  And then, as I was getting ready to go back to the book, I realized that while reading I had been completely immersed.  I had been visualizing the scene in my head, and I had been imagining the characters as real people and not as plot devices.)

The other thing that pleasantly surprised me was that this wasn't just a by-the-numbers spy story.
I had been expecting a historically accurate but rather plodding account of how the American deserters were secretly smuggled out of Japan.  But the story is actually much more interesting.
For one thing, there are multiple story lines being juggled.  The book follows the story of Harper, a black marine who is hiding out in Yokohama, Flynn, another deserter who is in Yokosuka, and Masuda, a Beheiren operative who is tasked with taking care of 3 unruly American deserters.  As I started reading, I was curious to see how these 3 separate storylines would eventually come together.
But in addition to this, there were some personality conflicts built into the story that add to the drama.  It turns out that the American deserters are not well-behaved compliant guests.  Three of the deserters are rude to their hosts, disrespect Japanese culture, and quarrel often with each other.  They may not even be sincere in their anti-war convictions, and it soon emerges that one of them might even be a murderer.
In addition to the suspense of whether or not the deserters will make it out of Japan, there's suspense about how long their Japanese hosts will be willing to put up with them.
And what will happen when they finally do lose patience?
This interpersonal drama, just as much as the historical details, hooked me in early and kept me turning the pages.

And while I'm praising this book, there were some scenes at the end in which Matthew Turner did a good job of creating tension.  (This was another situation where I didn't realize how engrossed I was until I got distracted from the book, and only then was able to reflect on how completely I had gotten caught up in the tension of the scene.)

But for the history nerds, the little historical details scattered throughout the book are the main selling point.  I was vaguely familiar with some of the details of this period before, but I learned tons of additional details from this book.

Integrating historical details into a novel is often challenging.  Many historical novels resort to having characters speak in exposition dumps that don't sound like the way real people talk.  It's a common problem to the genre, and Sweden also suffers from it at points.  But I'm usually willing to forgive a certain amount of this in historical novels, because getting the historical details is what I love about the genre in the first place.  So if a certain amount of it is clumsily done, it's okay.  (I suspect most of the target audience for this book will also feel the same.)

The 3 different plotlines of the book explore 3 different areas of Japan during the 1968.  One storyline goes to the student barricades at Nihon University, one storyline goes to a Japanese hippy commune in Suwanosejima Island.  And one storyline goes to a farming commune in rural Japan called Ichihashi Kai.
The student barricades is the subject I was most familiar with, and I enjoyed this story.  It lined up pretty well with the stories I had heard from older Japanese people.  (The process by which the American deserter ends up at the student barricades seemed a little bit contrived, but I forgave it.)
The hippy commune in Suwanosejima Island I had known nothing about.  I initially assumed that its inclusion into the plot was just a way for the author to include a digression into an interesting historical counter-culture movement.  But the "Acknowledgements" section at the end says that American deserters were indeed hid on this island by Beheiren.  And there is even some indication in the "Acknowledgements"  that the clash between the American deserters and the Japanese hippies come from actual memoirs of those involved--although exactly which details are based on real history isn't spelled out.
Ichihashi-Kai is the only one of the 3 plotlines that was not referenced in the "Historical Notes" at the end of the novel.  Nor does there appear to be any information on it on Google.  (At least not in English).  But I'm assuming this is also based on a real historical group, because of the exposition dumps about Ichihashi-Kai that are crammed into the novel.

The real history is fleshed out briefly in the "Historical Notes" and "Acknowledgments" section at the back, which are short, but which hint that most of the plot points in this book had a basis in actual history.  Personally I would have preferred a more expansive Historical Notes section which spelled out exactly how much of the book paralleled real history (as I mentioned above).  But I also understand that it's the author's prerogative to maintain some of the mystery.

Complaints (And Spoiler Warning)
Having so far mostly praised the novel, I now come to my criticisms about the plot.
In order to talk about the plot, I'm going to have to give spoilers.  So stop reading here if you want.

My first big complaint is that I thought there were too many flashback scenes.  We start with two of the main characters (Harper, and Flynn) already in Japan and trying to desert from the army.  But then throughout most of the middle of the novel, we keep having flashbacks to their time in Vietnam.
A certain amount of this is probably necessary.  (In order for the book to have a strong anti-war message, we need to know why the soldiers chose to leave the war.)
But too many flashbacks kill the forward momentum of the plot.
This is particularly a problem with Harper's storyline, because he gets stuck hiding out on a farming commune (the aforementioned Ichihashi-Kai) for most of the middle of the book, and for several chapters nothing interesting happens to him.  So then the constant flashbacks are really killing the story's momentum.  (I began to dread whenever the story would return to Harper).
The other problem is, at least in my opinion, some of those Vietnam War flashback scenes border on cliche.  The Vietnam War is, after all, a subject that has already been explored a lot in American media, and it's hard not to feel that some of the Vietnam flashback scenes are a bit by-the-numbers.

My other big complaint is that most of the conflict that gets set up in the book never has a satisfying pay-off.
I was hooked by the growing conflict between Masuda and the 3 Americans he was tasked with taking care of.  How would this resolve itself?  Would they eventually grow to understand and respect each other?  Or would it all end horribly in a big confrontation?  And then what would happen to the Americans once they had alienated their Japanese protector?
As it turns out, nothing happened.  About halfway through the book, Masuda does lose his temper and attacks one of them, but this fight happens right about the time that Masuda's mission was over anyway, and has absolutely no consequences.
Much is made of the constant bickering between Santiago and Roberts, but nothing ever comes of it.
Much is made of the fact that Roberts may have killed an MP in Yokohama, but then it gets dropped and never comes up again.
Much is made of the mysterious circumstances surrounding the confrontation between the 3 Americans and the chicken farmer, but the mystery is never cleared up.
Much is made of Santiago's unwise romance with Anala (and his possible lingering STD), but this also gets dropped.
Much is made of Sullivan's mysterious disappearance, but it never comes up again.
Much is made of the mysterious suitcase that Mayfield is lugging around.  But we never find out why Beheiren let him keep it, or what was inside it.

In short, most of the interesting personality conflicts and mysteries that kept me reading the book never had a satisfying pay-off.  They kept me turning the pages at the time, but I'm disappointed they didn't go anywhere.

It's slightly unclear, but it seems like some of these personality conflicts may have been lifted straight from the historical memoirs.  (Particularly the parts about the hippy island).  Which could explain why they don't have a satisfying pay-off--because presumably they never had a dramatic pay-off in the source material--that's the way real life is.
But a novelist should massage these interesting details into a more satisfying character arc.  (Exactly what that satisfying character arc would be, I can't say.  But then, I'm not the novelist.)

Other Notes
* On balance, I'd recommend it.  I'd recommend it on its merits, but I'd also recommend you to support a new author, and support a book with a strong anti-war message, that reminds us of the history of an important anti-war group.  Buy it on Amazon (A).

* Fire Across the Sea: The Vietnam War and Japan by Thomas Havens, which I've previously reviewed on this blog, is listed as one of the sources of this novel in the "Acknowledgments" section.  Matthew Turner calls it: "...a comprehensive survey of the impact of the Vietnam War on Japan, with a particular focus on the anti-war movement."

* A minor quibble: Given how little English was spoken in Japan when I lived there (2001-2009), I suspect that in 1968, English must have been extremely rare in Japan.  (The author acknowledges this in the endnotes on page 320 "...foreigners were few in number and English was not widely spoken, making it difficult for deserters to hole up...")
And yet, a surprising amount of English speakers pop up in this novel.  I suspect this is for reasons of plot convenience.  (Of course, every book or movie about foreigners in Japan makes use of conveniently located English-speaking Japanese characters, so I suppose it's no use to start complaining about it now.)

* During my time in Japan, I remember one conversation with one of my adult students, who told me about her time at University in 1968.  She told me that the university was shut down for the whole year because of student barricades, so the students organized the classes themselves and taught each other.  "It was such a wonderful year," she told me.
I was reminded of this during the section on the student barricades in Nihon University in the novel.  There is some discussion of how the students organized the classes and taught each other.

Video Review
Video review HERE and embedded below:



Link of the Day
Noam Chomsky on Fascism, Nuclear Weapons, Climate Change, Julian Assange & More

Tonoharu Part 3 by Lars Martinson

(Book Review)

Background
So, I don't know if anyone remembers this, but I reviewed Tonoharu Parts 1 and 2 on this blog 2 years ago.

It was a slight breach of protocol for me.  In the first place, I don't usually include comic books on my book review project, and secondly, I probably should have waited until the whole series was completed before I rushed in with my two cents.

But the books jogged enough of my memories from the JET program that I found it impossible to resist commenting.

And now here I am with part 3.

I don't really have too much to say about part 3.  To be perfectly honest, if I hadn't already blogged about parts 1 and 2, I wouldn't be blogging about about part 3 now.  But since I started to talk about Tonoharu, I feel like it would be incomplete not to talk about part 3.

So here we go.

The Review
A lot of the same things I said for parts 1 and 2 hold true for this as well.
Tonoharu perfectly captures the day-to-day monotony that is living in a small town in Japan as an assistant English teacher.

There's a certain genius in how well Lars Martinson conveys just how monotonous a JET's life can be.  You kind of have to admire his skill.  His panels of the character sitting alone and walking alone in a small town in Japan so perfectly convey the isolation many JETs feel.

And yet...at the same time, you have to ask why anyone would want to read this?  Certainly this has got to be of limited interested to anyone who is not a JET, right?

Well....at least on the plus side it's short.  It's a comic book, after all, and not a long one at that.  I think from the time I opened up the first page to the time I got to the last panel was only about 30 minutes.
The artwork is meticulously detailed.  If you're interested in art, you should find Lars Martinson's panel drawings interesting.
I'm not particularly interested in art, so this was all wasted on me.  I didn't even realize how much artistry there was in the book until I saw some of Lars Martinson's youtube videos on it.

My Own Reflections
I spent much of my review of parts 1 and 2 talking about my own experiences on the JET program, so I'll comment here on my own experiences as well.

As I said in my review of parts 1 and 2, I did at times feel isolated in small town Japan, just like the protagonist in Tonoharu.  I think every JET feels this way sometimes.  But more often than not, I loved my time in Japan.  I felt like I was on some big adventure--especially in the first couple years.  So it's important to keep things in perspective.

On another note:
Another thing I noticed teaching English in Japan is that the first year junior high school students (7th graders) would come in with lots of enthusiasm to learn English.  They were very interested in America and American culture and they really wanted to learn English.
Sadly, within a few months of studying English at the junior high school level, that enthusiasm would be drained out of them.
It was really sad.  At the time I thought the Japanese education system was to blame, but maybe some of this dropping in enthusiasm would be inevitable with any foreign language study.

Anyway, Tonoharu part 3 does a good job of depicting exactly this phenomenon.
To its credit, Tonoharu doesn't blame the Japanese teachers.  It shows that the Japanese teachers are just as much victims of the system as the students are.
In the comic, one character, a Japanese teacher of English, explains. "They [the first year students] are so interested in English and AETs [Assistant English Teachers--i.e. Westerners]. We teachers want to protect the students' enthusiasm.  But we have to prepare them for high school entrance exam.  And there is so much to study.  We have to advance too quickly.  The result is students lose their enthusiasm.  They only remember for the test.  But if we slow down, students aren't ready for high school entrance exams.  And parents are angry.  We can't find a good solution. "  (p.76-77)

This book also captures what is the best part of being an Assistant English Teacher in Japan--how enthusiastic the students can be about getting a chance to talk to you.
I loved the chance to talk to students who really wanted to talk to me.  It was the best job in the world when you got to interact with the students.
However, as is also depicted in Tonoharu many of the students could be shy and awkward.  They wanted to talk to you, but they struggled to work up the courage.
Since I was a bit shy and awkward myself, sometimes my self-consciousness and the student's self-consciousness would combine to make some really awkward interactions.

Links to Interesting Videos
The author and artist, Lars Martinson, has a couple of Youtube videos in which he describes his experience creating this book.  Watching these videos has given me a new appreciation for the artistry behind this book (something that I'll admit did not immediately grasp me when I first read it).

Introducing Tonoharu



More from Lars Martinson's Tonoharu



4 Time-Saving Tips (from a guy who spent 13 YEARS drawing a comic)




Video Review
Video review here and embedded below



Link of the Day
Chomsky: Humanitarian Intervention Propaganda

Tonoharu (Parts 1 and 2) by Lars Martinson

(Book Review)

A couple years ago, someone pointed me to the website of Lars Martinson, a comic book artist who, among other ventures, details his adventures as an Assistant English Teacher in Japan in comic strip form.
Since I'm a former Assistant English Teacher in Japan myself, many of his experiences reflected my own, and I wrote a blog post in which I linked to several of his comics, and interspersed my own reflections in with the links.

Now, I find myself in possession of Lars Martinson's graphic novel: Tonoharu--a whole graphic novel based on the experiences of an Assistant English Teacher (W) in Japan.  And, as with before, feel the need to chime in with my own comments.

I don't normally review graphic novels on this book review project.  In fact, normally I make a policy of not reviewing graphic novels.  But this one made enough of an impression on me that I thought I would break my rule.

The first volume of this book came out in 2008, when I was still living in Japan, and I remember at the time reading a review of it in the Daily Yomiuri (English newspaper in Japan to which I used to have a subscription).

The gist of the review was: "Well, any person who was ever on the JET Programme (W) will be able to identify with almost all of this.  But the life of an Assistant English Teacher is so completely, utterly boring, that it will be of interest to no one who wasn't on the JET programme.  And even then, it will probably even bore former JETs."

Unfortunately, I can't find the review online.  (It's no longer hosted on the Daily Yomiuri website), but an excerpt from that review is available on line [Over Here] so I'll take the liberty of quoting it:

Every year, thousands of English-speakers flock to Japan to teach their native language, many of them on the Japan Exchange and Teaching (JET) Program. For better or worse, working on the program and living outside of their own countries provide various life lessons. Scattered from one end of Japan to the other, JET participants all share the same mantra: “Every situation is different.”

Except that so many of the situations seem to be basically identical, as shown in the painfully familiar story of Daniel Wells, the protagonist of Lars Martinson’s graphic novel Tonoharu: Part One. He shows up in his new, rural town, with no Japanese skills and no friends, faced with a largely unresponsive and uninformative staff of English teachers whom he is assigned to assist.

Each day of his life is boring as he struggles to figure out his job, figure out the Japanese language and figure out how to make friends (or, better yet, find a girlfriend). He spends his time alone watching TV or trying to connect with the other local assistant English teacher, who seems to have a built-in social life and language ability.

For many JETs, this may already sound too familiar. For non-JETs, the storyline may just sound too dull. And they would both be right. Though Tonoharu–named after the Kyushu town where Dan lives and works–is planned as a four-part series, with Part Two slated for next year, I can’t imagine why people would want to subject themselves to the subject matter.

 Yes, fair enough.  Why would anyone want to subject themselves to this subject matter?

And yet, as I read through the book, I was hit with such a strong wave of nostalgia, both positive and negative memories, from my own experience on the JET Programme.  I almost felt like I was reading my own memoirs.  (If I get hit by a truck crossing the road tomorrow before I have a chance to write down my own memoirs, just read Tonoharu if you want to get a sense of what my life in Japan was like.)
Yes, it is all painfully dull.  And yet...this was my life!   And since everyone takes an interest in their own life and their own experiences, when you see something written down that captures these experiences, you can't help but react to it.

So allow me to go right down the line and list everything that I identified with:

First of all, when the new Assistant English Teacher first arrives, there is the conversation with his predecessor.  The predecessor obviously has a lot of things he wants to complain about, and a lot of things he wants to get off his chest, but alternates between giving full vent to his feelings on the one hand, and on the other hand trying to guard against giving the new guy too much of a negative impression before he even gets started.  (Although I never met my predecessor face-to-face I had a somewhat similar interaction with him via emails and phone calls.)

Then there's the interaction with the bitter expatriate: the guy whose "response was light on advice and heavy on anger and self-pity.  Every word out of his mouth was dripping with venom. Japan was shit, his job was a joke, all the other teachers were incompetent jerks."    (p. 21, Part 1)
We've all been in those conversations.  (In fact I've noted recently in two separate posts--here and here--the tendency of expatriates to complain about whatever country they're in.  I used to think this was just unique to the expatriate community in Japan, but experiences in Australia and Cambodia have taught me that this is universal to any expatriate community anywhere.)

Although, as the narrator of Tonoharu notes, it's a fairly predictable reaction to the situation in the Assistant English Teacher program, in which every year thousands of young Westerners are isolated out in the Japanese countryside, given very little to do, having very little social network (at least initially) and with very little support system: "Sometimes it seems like the AET program was designed to ensure discontent.  There's the countless hours of idle time...The geographical remoteness, the language barrier, the thousand  little cultural differences.  Allow all this to stew for a few months, and it's enough to drive anyone a little crazy." (p. 23, Part 1)*

Tonoharu does a good job of highlighting the mundanities of the life of the Assistant English Teacher: the fact that you are underworked and overpayed, which sounds great at first.  But can get very boring very quickly: "The work is pretty easy.  It's telling that no prior training or experience is required.  My job could easily be done on a part-time basis.  I rarely have more than two or three hours of work on any given day.  No one seems to care what I do for the rest of my time as long as I am physically present at school for eight hours a day.  I stopped pretending to work outside of class a long time ago.  I could probably set up a hammock and no one would say anything.  My friends back home can't understand why I'd even consider quitting at the end of this year's contract. Most of them are working grueling jobs for slave wages, so I can see how my job must seem ideal from their point of view.  High pay, low stress, an abundance of free time...on paper it sounds great.  But the reality of it isn't so pristine.  The devil is in the details.  Never knowing what is going on gets old pretty quick, for example.  After eight months of blood, sweat and tears, my Japanese still amounts to little more than caveman talk." (p. 15-17 part 1)

The isolation the Assistant English Teacher feels, when everyone else in the office is speaking a language he can't understand, is shown very clearly in this graphic novel.

The relationship with the main Japanese teachers that the AET is supposed to assist is perfectly illustrated here as well--as Tonoharu indicates, at any given school it almost always runs a spectrum from Japanese teachers who are very friendly and eager to integrate the foreign Assistant English Teacher into the class, to Japanese teachers who are very distant (or sometimes even coldly hostile) to the foreign Assistant English Teacher.  (The majority of Japanese teachers I worked with were really great, and yet, at every school, there would always be one Japanese teacher who wanted nothing to do with the Assistant English Teacher, and was very cold and distant.  This was not only my experience, but seems to have been a universal experience among all Assistant English Teachers--indicating that it's not so much an individual issue as some sort of larger cultural issue in Japan.)

There also a great scene near the end of part 1 which every former Assistant English Teacher will be able to identify with: the foreign Assistant English Teacher pronounces a few words of dialogue from the textbook script and then, his job done, he stands in the front uselessly for the rest of the lesson as the Japanese teacher explains all the grammar in Japanese.

Another scene that I think absolutely every former Assistant English Teacher will be able to identify with is on pages 51-53 of part 1.  The Assistant English Teacher arrives a week before school starts, is shown to an empty desk, and is simply told to spend that week "preparing" with no indication whatsoever of what kind of classes he should be preparing for.
And then the self introduction lesson, and all the pitfalls that go with it, were another area of part 1 that I identified with.

And what else did I identify with?  There's the awkwardness of trying to make conversation across the language barrier "when some nice shy teacher works up the courage to strike up a conversation with me"   (p. 18 part 1)
There's the teacher's party in part 2, which ends up in a Karaoke booth, while the foreign Assistant English Teacher sings one English song, and then just listens to hours after hours of Japanese songs.  (Okay, the hours after hours aren't explicitly shown in the book, but trust me, it goes on for hours.  Lars Martinson does a good job of conveying the boredom of this in just a few panels.   If I never end up in another Karaoke booth as long as I live, I won't have any complaints.)

The protagonist of Tonoharu does meet a few other expatriates in the Japanese countryside, but they don't seem as isolated as he is.  In fact, they seem to have a thriving social life already.
I suspect this isn't universal for all Assistant Language Teachers, but might be more based on certain personality types--us introverts, for example.  But this was something I often felt, especially during my first year in Japan--the feeling that the other expatriates, when I did meet them, were all having much more exciting lives than I was.
The main character in Tonoharu, by contrast, spends a lot of time wandering around his small Japanese town by himself.  (As I did).  And then contrasting his boring existence with the wild lives that other expatriates seem to be having in Japan (as I also did).

I suspect the author of this book and I have very similar personality types.  Or at the very least, I have a very similar personality to his main character.
Even the main character's habit of not replacing his lights when they burned out was similar to me.  (For many of us Assistant English Teachers fresh out of college, Japan was the first place we ever lived alone and were solely responsible for the upkeep of our living quarters.  Like the main character in this book, I also lapsed into laziness and did not replace lights even when they had been out for months.)

All of this book portrays a very grim and lonely picture of being an Assistant Language Teacher in Japan.  And all of it I identified with.

And yet, on the other hand, I said on this blog before that my first two years in Japan were possibly the best years of my life.

So, how do I reconcile the fact that I identified with all the bad things in Tonoharu with the fact that I consider those years among the best in my life?  Well, in any situation in life, there are always going to be positives and negatives.  I'm not saying the negatives weren't there.  They were definitely there.  But when it all came down to it, the positives outweighed them.

As someone who had never traveled much or spent any time away from home before, those first few years in Japan I always had the feeling that I was on some sort of epic adventure.  Even during the boring times, even when I was just wandering around my town on my own, I felt like I couldn't believe I was all the way on the other side of the world, and that this was all just one big adventure.
Plus, the Japanese countryside is gorgeous.  The scenery was just so utterly unlike anything I grew up with back home.  (Go ahead and take a look at any of my pictures on my project to document the towns in my prefecture.)  And although the Assistant English Teacher does feel a bit isolated and lonely sometimes in the Japanese countryside, they are always regarded as a constant object of fascination by the local Japanese (who are completely unused to foreigners in their small town).  It's kind of thrilling always being the center of attention everywhere.  And, although it took me perhaps 6 months to make connections, once I did make good friends with the other expatriates in the area, I felt like my social life eventually did take off, and my loneliness and isolation came to an end.

Looking back on it all, I somewhat regret staying as long as I did in a job that required absolutely no talent and developed me in absolutely no way professionally.  (I'm still stuck in the TESOL industry, but I'm actually doing real teaching now, instead of just being a human tape player--which is what I was during most of my time as an Assistant English Teacher).  But I enjoyed it enough at the time.  (In fact, to a large measure, I enjoyed it at the time precisely because it was so undemanding.)

So, to sum up, it's important to remember the good with the bad.  I identified with just about everything in Tonoharu, but the good memories outweigh the frustrations.

Other notes:
* Because being forewarned in forearmed, this book should be required reading for all future Assistant English Teachers before they go to Japan.

*The graphic novel is as of yet unfinished. (The author is still working on the final volume--see his web page HERE.)  But as this struck a chord with me now, and as the final volume won't be published yet for some time, I decided to just dash out some thoughts now.

Footnotes:
* Ellipsis (...) are all in the original text

Link of the Day
Whose Security?

Learning from Shogun, edited by Henry Smith

(Book Review)

This book is a commentary on the novel “Shogun” (for which see previous post).

Since this book is long out of print, its editors have kindly made it available for free on-line. However, if you’re like me and you can’t stand the idea of reading anything off a computer screen for a long period of time (this blog being an exception of course :) ), then you can find used copies at a reasonable price easily enough through sites like Amazon.

“Learning from Shogun” was originally written in 1980, just before the “Shogun” TV miniseries was aired. Its various authors had not yet had an opportunity to preview the TV miniseries, and so the book addresses itself exclusively to the novel (although with the exception of a 3 page postscript at the very end).

1980 was slightly before my time (or, at the very least, before I was conscious enough to be aware of cultural trends), but one gets the impression from reading this book that 30 years ago “Shogun” was quite a cultural phenomenon, and the book to read at the time. Assuming the authors are not exaggerating the importance of their subject material, I got the impression that the buzz around “Shogun” must have been similar to the buzz surrounding “The DaVinci Code” a couple years ago.

Because this book contains a lot of spoilers about the plot, it is meant to be read after first completing “Shogun”. However, since I was more concerned about the history than the drama, I found it useful to read this book concurrently with “Shogun”. Shogun is a very long book (1152 pages) and it so full of historical Japanese politics and complex alliances that I was willing to sacrifice some of the suspense of the story in order to be able to sort out as I read how much of it was true and how much was fiction.

“Learning from Shogun” is not a complete history lesson in 16th Century Japanese politics, but it is at least a good general overview. And for anyone who wants to delve further, there is a very thorough section on “Further Reading”. (Although I suspect it’s a bit dated by now, but still…).

It was interesting reading this book to find out how many things I had assumed James Clavell must have made up (like some of the amazing battles, escapes, intrigues, and gruesome deaths) actually had a basis in history.
By the same token, it was also interesting to read about how much Clavell got wrong. The whole theme of “Shogun” is based off of the culture clash between 16th century Europe and 16th century Japan, but as the writers of this book show, there’s a lot Clavell got wrong or misrepresented. For example 16th century England wasn't quite as uptight about sex as Clavell makes out (that came later during the Victorian period) and neither was ancient Japan quite as free regarding the body and bodily functions.

This book admittedly has a very limited audience (probably one of the reasons it’s no longer in print). For one thing you have to have read “Shogun” first. Secondly you have to be enough of a historical geek to care about finding out which details are wrong and which are true. But if you fit that profile, like I did, then reading this book is worth the trouble it takes to track down a used copy.

Link of the Day
Ho-Hum, Just Another Day In The Craziest Country On Earth
So Seymour Hersh says that Vice President Cheney and his staff sat around back in January and discussed having Navy SEALS dress up as Iranian sailors and then attack American ships. This would fool Americans into supporting a war with Iran, you see.
In non-insane countries, this would merit screaming headlines and congressional investigations, all leading to mass resignations if it turned out to be true. In America, it merits a few blog posts. (Full article here)

Learning from Shogun, edited by Henry Smith: Book Review (Scripted)

Shogun by James Clavell

(book review)

It seems like all Japanophiles read this book sooner or later. Most of them sooner. So, I decided I might as well get it out of the way now.

If you travel in any Japanophile circles, chances are you've already heard of this book. It was also made into a TV miniseries in 1980 which, according to wikipedia, was one of the highest rated TV miniseries in television history.
(I never saw the TV series, but I hung out with a lot of geeks in high school and college, and I would occasionally hear about it from them.)

This is one of those books that’s difficult to classify. It contains too much history to be called pure fiction, and yet it takes too many liberties to strictly be called “historical fiction” either.

“Shogun” is loosely based off the story of William Adams, who was the first Englishman to set foot in Japan in 1600. He wasn't the first Westerner--the Portuguese and the Spanish had beaten him by about 50 years--but he was definitely the first Englishman, and he and his Dutch shipmates were the first Protestants. (Much to the annoyance of the Portuguese Jesuit priests, who had already established churches in Japan).

By incredible historical coincidence (a gift from Clio to history writers) William Adams managed to arrive in Japan the same year Tokugawa Ieyasu defeated his enemies at the battle of Sekigahara, ended the era of warring states, established a unified Japan, and began the Tokugawa Shogun era, which was to last until the resignation of the last Shogun and the Meiji Restoration in 1868.
William Adams managed to become a friend and confident of Tokugawa Ieyasu during this period.

James Clavell is not an historian by trade, but he did a tremendous amount of research on 16th Century Japan for this book. And then he apparently decided not to write it strictly as a historical fiction, but to change everyone’s names, and write it as a pure fictional novel to give him more freedom with the characters. Thus William Adams becomes “John Blackthorne”. Tokugawa Ieyasu becomes “Toranga Yoshi”. Et Cetera.

There are whole separate books written on what is true and what is fictional in “Shogun”. And in fact, I even read one of them. (“Learning from Shogun”--which I’ll review separately). In broad terms, Shogun simplifies the complexity of Japanese politics a little bit, creates a few characters that are amalgamations of 2 or more historical characters, condenses the action into a shorter time frame, and increases the importance and role of William Adams (John Blackthorne) to the struggle for the Shogunate.

In minute terms: if one were to list all the anachronisms, cultural mistakes, and even the linguistic mistakes Clavell makes in this book it could take quite some time. People who've spent time living in Japan should be able to pick a number of these out without any assistance.
(For example Clavell occasionally has his Japanese characters use Western gestures, like shrugging their shoulders. He also never really understands the difference between the Japanese words “Dozo” (please receive) and “Kudasai” (please give). (It’s surprising the publishers never had anyone with a knowledge of the Japanese language proofread this book before publication)).

If you’re enough of a geek to be concerned about the history, it’s always a good idea to read “Shogun” alongside a more historically accurate book. For example, I started reading “Shogun” at the same time I started reading “Samurai William” by Giles Milton (which tells the real story of William Adams). Of course I finished “Samurai Williams” months ago, but I’m only now finishing up “Shogun”. That’s partly because school intervened, and for 4 months I had almost no time for reading. And it’s partly because “Shogun” is a monster book at 1152 pages.

Fortunately, “Shogun” is one of those books that, though it may be long, never gets boring. In fact the story keeps getting more and more complex so that when I neared the last 100 pages, my thoughts were not:
“When is this going to be over already?”,
but rather,
“How is he possibly going to wrap up all these plot threads with just 100 pages left?”

There are, as the saying goes, wheels within wheels in this book. For example, the most obvious culture clash that dominates the whole book is the Japanese versus the Western barbarians. But the Western Barbarians are sharply divided into Protestant and Catholic camps. On the Protestant side, William Adams (John Blackthorne) is the only Englishman on an otherwise all Dutch ship, and his shipmates occasionally resent him for that. But the quarrelsome Dutch show just as much inclination to fight amongst each other.

On the Catholic side, the Portuguese and the Spanish have arguments over whose domain Japan belongs in. The Jesuits and the Franciscans have arguments over the proper way to proselytize the Japanese. The church clashes with the Portuguese Navy and merchants over who has ultimate authority. And of course the Jesuits often argue among themselves.

…And all that is without even beginning to get into the Japanese side of things: the complex political situation, the varying alliances, fiefdoms, ambitious daimyos and treacherous vassals.

If you like long books with complex plots that you can really immerse yourself in, you'll love this book.  The whole thing is a wonderfully complex tapestry of changing alliances, backstabbing, and betrayals.

James Clavell is famous for his long books, and reading this my impression is that he is one of those writers incapable of writing a short book. There’s not a single flat character in “Shogun”. Every character who enters into the action, even the minor characters, are fully developed, have a back story, and have conflicting loyalties and motivations.

Clavell thus pulls off a difficult feat for an historical novelist. Despite the various liberties he takes with the story, almost all of the characters end up with the same fates as their historical counterparts. And yet the story feels completely character driven. Even though the outcomes are predetermined by history, the reader never feels like the characters are pulled along by historical threads. Instead it feels like the characters are choosing their own destinies.

Finally, there is a large amount of historical backstory in this novel. Tokugawa Ieyasu (Toranga Yoshi) was only able to succeed in unifying Japan because of the political situation created by two military strongmen before him: Nobunaga Oda (or Goroda, as he is called in “Shogun) and Hideyoshi Toyotomi (Nakamura), and James Clavell will occasionally go off for a few pages re-counting the backstory of Goroda and Nakamura.

The backstory is my only criticism of this book. In a pure historical fiction, one puts up with the occasional information dump necessary to set the backstory, because it is historical fiction after all, and even if it does interrupt the narrative you are learning some history at the same time.
In a novel, one is less inclined to put up with these things. Especially if all the names have been changed. The backstory of Goroda and Nakamura, as retold by Clavell, is true to their historical models of Nobunaga and Hideyoshi, but I somewhat resented having to read pages of historical backstory only to have to learnt names that were all wrong anyway. (It is at this point that a companion book, such as “Learning from Shogun” becomes helpful to decode the fact from fiction. I’ll be reviewing that in my next post).

**********************************
According to John Updike’s rules for fair reviewing, here is an extended quotation from the book to give you a feel for it.
This takes place very early on in the book (P.37 out of 1152). John Blackthorne, the pilot, and his Dutch shipmates have just landed on some strange land, and are recovering from their scurvy and other sea illnesses. Blackthorne finds out that they are in Japan, and that the Catholics have already established there, and goes to report this to his shipmates. Notice in their conversation how the fact they've arrived in Japan is only of secondary importance, almost like an afterthought, to their horror at finding themselves stranded in a Catholic domain:

“Listen,” Blackthorne said. “There’s a priest here. A Jesuit.”
“Christ Jesus!” All banter left them as he told them about the priest and about the beheading.
“Why’d he chop the man’s head off, Pilot?”
“I don’t know.”
“We’d better get back aboard. If Papists catch us ashore…”
There was great fear in the room now. Salamon, the mute, watched Blackthorne. His mouth worked, a bubble of phlegm appearing at the corners.
“No, Salamon, there’s no mistake,” Blackthorne said kindly, answering the silent question. “He said he was Jesuit.”
“Christ, Jesuit or Dominican, or what-the-hell-ever makes no muck-eating difference,” Vinck said. “We’d better get back aboard. Pilot, you ask that Samurai, eh?”
“We’re in God’s hands,” Jan Roper said. He was one of the merchant adventurers, a narrow-eyed young man with a high forehead and thin nose. “He will protect us from the Satan worshipers.”
Vinck looked back at Blackthorne. “What about Portuguese, Pilot? Did you see any around?”
“No. There were no signs of them in the village.”
“They’ll swarm here soon as they know about us.” Maetsukker said it for all of them, and the boy Croocq let out a moan.
“Yes, and if there’s one priest, there’s got to be others.” Ginsel licked dry lips. “And then their God-cursed conquistadores are never far away.”
“That’s right,” Vinck added uneasily. “They’re like lice.”
“Christ Jesus! Papists!” someone muttered. “And conquistadores!”
“But we’re in the Japans, Pilot?” Van Nekk asked. “He told you that?”
“Yes. Why?”
Van Nekk moved closer and dropped his voice. “If priests are here, and some of the natives are Catholic, perhaps the other part’s true-about the riches, the gold, and silver and precious stones.” A hush fell on them. “Did you see any, Pilot? Any gold? Any gems on the natives, or gold?”
“No. None.” Blackthorne thought for a moment. “I don’t remember seeing any. No necklaces or beads or bracelets. Listen, there’s something else to tell you. I went aboard Erasmus, but she’s sealed up.” He related what had happened, and their anxiety increased.
“Jesus, if we can’t go back aboard and there are priests ashore and Papists….We've got to get away from here.” Maestukker’s voice began to tremble. “Pilot, what are we going to do? They’ll burn us! Conquistadores-those bastards’ll shove their swords….”
We’re in God’s hands,” Jan Roper called out confidently. “He will protect us from the anti-Christ. That’s His promise. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
….

(The conversation continues for several more pages, but hopefully this gives you an idea).

Link of the Day
Michigan State House Primary 2008: What to Watch

Shogun by James Clavell: Book Review (Scripted)

Fire Across the Sea: The Vietnam War and Japan by Thomas Havens

(Book Review)

This is, to the best of my knowledge, the only book about the anti-Vietnam War movement in Japan. (The topic's not virgin territory by any means. There are lots of articles in academic journals. But this is the only full length book that I’m aware of).

Japan was very much involved in the Vietnam War because the bases in Japan and Okinawa were used as launching points for the U.S. army. (Okinawa was not returned to Japan until 1972, and was essentially a US colony until then.) Also Japanese manufacturers were very involved in the business side of the Vietnam War, and doing lots of trade with both the US and South Vietnamese army, and perhaps even supplying the materials for the US napalm bombs.

Despite all this, there was great anxiety on the part of the Japanese people and government about the Vietnam War. At the beginning of the War, when it looked possible that China might get involved, Japan feared they would be drawn right into the middle of another World War if China attacked the US bases in Japan.
Even after the threat of China joining the war diminished however there was concern that Japan’s involvement in the Vietnam War violated article 9 (the no-war clause) of their constitution. The nightly news showed images of the War, and many Japanese began to see parallels between the Americans in Vietnam, and their own quagmire in a guerrilla war in China 30 years earlier. As the American bombing campaign escalated, the Japanese, who had themselves experienced heavy bombing, began to sympathize with the Vietnamese people even more.
(As Havens points out, more bombs were dropped on Indochina during the Vietnam War than in all the years of World War II combined).

There are a lot of contradictions and ironies concerning Japan’s involvement in the Vietnam War. Despite the tremendous opposition to the War at the citizen level, Japan’s economy prospered greatly as a result of the increased trade that the War created. Havens writes: “Possibly the greatest long term effect was also the most ironic: halfway through the war Japan replaced the United States as the leading economic power in Southeast Asia, so that one of America’s most reluctant allies ended up as the chief beneficiary of the eight-year war to save the Saigon regime.”

This is a short book (only 264 pages plus endnotes) but it tries to cover a lot of ground. For example the book deals with the legal issues surrounding Article 9 of the Japanese constitution and its involvement in the war, the diplomatic issues with the United States, the opposition parties in the Japanese Diet and the parliamentary politics played out over the War, the economic side of the Vietnam War in Japan, the issues surrounding the return of Okinawa, the citizen opposition groups, newspaper editorials, Japanese reporters in Vietnam, public opinion and even Japanese pop music related to the anti-War movement. (As a big fan of Japanese oldies, this book tries to answer a question I had been wondering about for years: with massive protests and anti-war sentiment in Japan, why were there no anti-war songs on the pop charts?)
As such, much of the book feels like it is only skimming over broader issues, which in fact it is. It does, however, provide an excellent bird’s eye view of the whole conflict.

The style of the book is a bit on the dry side. It reads a bit like an academic paper which someone decided to publish as a book. But the subject material was fascinating enough to keep me interested.

As in many other parts of the world, the 1960s in Japan were a time of conflict between the old established left and the New Left. This is a major theme of Haven’s book, as he highlights the ineffectiveness of the Japanese Socialist Party (JSP) and the Japanese Communist Party (JCP), and contrasts them against new citizens groups like Beheiren (Citizens’ Federation for Peace in Vietnam).

Beheiren, organized by Japanese novelist Oda Makoto, was a new kind of group which was based on decentralized, almost anarchist principles, in which any group who agreed to their basic principles could organize events on their behalf. It was based on getting ordinary citizens involved in the political process, and creating a new kind of participatory democracy, but it was unaligned with any political party.
The JSP, and the JCP, which both looked at opposition to the Vietnam War as a way to increase their seats in the Diet and expand their own political power, were very hostile to Beheiren.

Although Haven’s book touches on a variety of issues (see above) the story of Beheiren forms the backbone of the narrative. The more radical student protests, that were paralyzing Universities and leading to pitched battles in the streets of Tokyo, are mentioned only in passing. This is partly because Beheiren was a one-issue organization, dedicated to ending the war in Vietnam whereas the student protests in Japan (as in Europe and the US) were not limited solely to Vietnam, but spurred on by an amalgamation of issues including University reform, opposition to tuition increases, and anti-establishment sentiment.

To the extent the student protests are mentioned in Haven’s book, it is usually only for the purpose of contrasting them to Beheiren’s more peaceful approach.

For example the week long battle between police and student protesters at Tokyo University over Yasuda auditorium, which was broadcast live on Japanese TV and is sometimes referred to as Japan’s “Kent State”, is only mentioned in one sentence in this book, and that only to contrast with the tactics of Beheiren. (… “the delegates [of Beheiren] thought it would be wise to diversify in light of the campus violence that culminated when the police recaptured Yasuda auditorium at Tokyo University on January 19”.)

Beheiren gained international attention when it began hiding deserters from the US army, smuggling them out of the country, and arranging their passage to Sweden. After reading about the huge media furor this caused at the time, I was able to better understand the culture issues surrounding “The Stray Cat Rock: Machine Animal” movie in which the whole plot revolves around helping two U.S. soldiers escape on a boat to Sweden.

*************************************

There is a lot in this book which parallels with the Iraq War, much of which is so obvious it scarcely bares mentioning. Despite the lessons of the Vietnam War or the Japanese in China (not to mention the French in Algeria, the Russians in Afghanistan, and a host of other similar situations) United States has once again involved itself in another foreign policy disaster.

Havens mentions how the Vietnam War destroyed America’s image in Japan. Despite the destruction of the Great War, in the years immediately World War II most Japanese people looked upon America as the great liberator and strong house of democracy and freedom. After the Vietnam War, most Japanese had a negative image of America. The parallel of America’s tarnished image after the Iraq debacle is, of course, all too obvious.

*****************************************************

I mentioned this book in my Tombo Times article, despite the fact that I hadn't yet read it at the time. In my defense, I had fully intended to read it by the time I wrote the article. I had ordered it off of Amazon months previously, but kept getting messages that it was out of stock, or that they couldn't locate a copy for me.

After waiting over half a year, I switched my order to an older edition (used copy) and then immediately had a copy shipped out to me. This book was originally published in 1987, and then later republished after 2000. I’m not sure if I missed any important updates by reading the older edition or not. I’m also not sure if my frustrating experience trying to get a hold of a copy is unique or not. If you’re interested in the subject material, however, it is worth the trouble it takes to track down a copy.

Update: I've sent a version of this review to Media Mouse. They posted it here.

Link of the Day
Air in northwest Michigan sometimes among worst in nation

Fire Across the Sea: The Vietnam War and Japan by Thomas Havens: Book Review (Scripted)

A Hundred Years of Japanese Film by Donald Richie

(book review)

I've been making an effort to watch more Japanese films lately, but I still feel a bit lost in the Japanese section of my video store. So when saw this book, I thought it would help me navigate my way through Japanese cinema a little easier.

This book is by Donald Richie who, according to the various quotes on the cover jacket, is single handily responsible for introducing Japanese cinema to the West. I had never heard of him before, but then there's a lot of stuff I haven't heard of.

The introduction to this book is by none other than Calvin's own Paul Schrader, who claims to have been greatly influenced in his film student days by Richie's earlier books.

Despite Schrader's high praise, I had a hard time making it through this book. So many names of directors and films are crammed into this 250 page book that it makes your head spin after a while. Some parts of the book are interesting, like when it talked about the film making policies under the American occupation, or when it talked about the contrast between American documentaries and Japanese documentaries. But often it feels like you're just reading through a long list. There were times when I seriously considered throwing this book against the wall and being done with it, but for better or for worse I struggled on through it.

For people like me who are starting out with very little knowledge of Japanese cinema, there's a lot to swallow in this book. I think someone who was already familiar with Japanese film might get more out of it as it might help to organize film information they already have.

That being said, I did learn a thing or two from this book helps me understand Japanese cinema more, and perhaps in the future I'll try and be less critical in my various reviews. For example this book helped me realize that Japanese cinema has it's own tradition and history, and shouldn't always be judged against Western films. The over acting (which I'm -always - complaining - about) is because Japanese initially viewed cinema not as a realistic portrayal of life, but as an outgrowth of theater.
Also Richie explains why Japanese TV and Cinema can be repetitive, and why the Japanese stay sitting all the way through the ending credits in a movie theater (something I've always wondered about).

At the same time though, there are a lot of truly terrible films that the Japanese film industry crank out each year. (Alexander Kerr has a few rants about this in his book "Dogs and Demons"). Richie occassionally acknowledges this in passing, but he keeps his focus on the directors who in his opinion defy the mold.

When I bought this book, I was hoping to use it as a guide in the video store. And although I'll certainly keep it around as a reference, the book contains very little information on any given film. Most films are summed up in a couple sentences, a couple paragraphs at most. There is however a small film guide in the back which I'm planning on making use of.

Because the book is more or less organized according to directors, what it does do is give a good understanding of the broad themes and approaches of different Japanese directors, and their differences from each other. In this respect the book is most useful, although again for the novice like me it's all a bit hard to keep track of.

That being said, a few movies are mentioned in this book that I have reviewed on this blog: My Neighbor Totoro, Shall We Dance, and Zatoichi.

[Interestingly enough, Richie gives Zatoichi a rather tepid review, despite the fact that Zatoichi is used as the photo for the book's cover (see image above). I'm guessing this was someone else's choice other than Richie, who writes of the movie: "lots of violence naturally, but at the same time a kind of noble pathos, which shortly becomes tiresome. The all singing, tap dancing finale is welcome but rather too short."]

Many more movies are mentioned that I saw before I started my movie review project such as Battle Royale, Godzilla, Rashomon, The Hidden Fortress, High and Low, Princess Monoke, Howl's Moving Castle, Akira, Steamboy, Ghost in the Shell, Brother, The Tokyo Trial, et cetera.

There are some repetitive passages in this book which are indicative of sloppy proof-reading, and the fact that someone along the way wasn't giving this book a lot of attention as it got pushed out towards publication.
Nevertheless, now that I've completed this book, I hope to be able to use it as a reference in the future as I continue my journey into Japanese film.

Addendum: according to this book there is an annual film festival in Yufuin, Oita prefecture. Amazing how I can live in Oita prefecture for all this time and not know these things.

Link of the Day
A friend of mine and former co-worker started up a new website TADA Music, documenting the independent music scene in Japan. Well worth taking the time to have a look.

A Hundred Years of Japanese Film by Donald Richie: Book Review (Scripted)

The Plum-Rain Scroll by Ruth Manley

(Book Review)

This book was being passed around by my co-workers. One of them lent it to a student, the student gave it to me with instructions to return it to the owner. But I thought I'd read it first.

This is a children's book written by an Australian using characters from Japanese mythology. It is not itself based on any specific Japanese story, but it introduces children to Japanese mythological characters through a new story. In other words, it seeks to do for Japanese mythology what Tolkien did for Norse mythology. (Although perhaps that's comparing apples and oranges. The fairy-tale style and tone of this book could not be more different than Tolkien's epics).

....(This book was originally published way back in 1978. These days, after the Anime explosion, I wonder if it is even necessary to have a book to introduce young people to Japanese mythological creatures. Someone in the publishing industry must have thought it was because the edition I read was dated 2005).

The hero of this book is an odd job boy named Taro. Not the same character as Momotaro (the infamous most famous children's story in Japan that foreigners are told over and over), but like his namesake he does go on a journey and acquire various friends along the way. By the time he's done, in his little band includes almost every popular creature in Japanese mythology: a ghost, an Oni, a dream eater, a half Kappa-half roof watcher creature, Lord Eight thousand spears, etc.

The style of this book is very simple. This is especially noticible after books like "Harry Potter", "The Golden Compass" and other children's books that don't talk down to you.
It may simply be due to the age of the book, and the fact that way back when children's books were supposed to have a simpler style, like the Narnia series. (Perhaps someone better versed in the history of literature could help me out on this one). It may be due to the fact that the author is deliberately trying to imitate the tone and language of a fairy tale. Or, in my more cranky moments, I must confess I wondered if this wasn't an example of how undemanding a genre children's literature is for writers of limited talent.

Below a typical example:
"One step on to my bridge," he roared, "and I shall eat you all for my bedtime snack. I am Tsuki the Terrible; behold me and tremble!"
"Why should we?" demanded Taro scornfully. "We've had the better of far more frightening onis than you could ever hope to be." He sounded far braver than he felt.
"You won't be so carefree when you're side-dishes to my evening rice," retorted Oni, fingering his club lovingly. "How fine I shall look in that handsome red robe; and that dog's skin will make me a nice cosy little foot-rug for the Time of Greatest Cold--"
At this, Oboro stamped her foot. "You couldn't look fine in anything!" she stormed. "If you so much as lay a finger on my dog, I warn you, you'll be sorrier than you've ever been in your whole life!"
To her astonishment and that of her friends, a tear appeared and slowly coursed down the blue cheek of the Oni.
"Oh, please don't say that!" he implored her. "If you knew the trouble I take to look nice! I was carefully brought up, even if I am an orpahn now! I never forget the things that Mother taught my sister and me. One of her sayings was 'A nice little Oni is always neat'. She impressed it upon us that Onis who go about in tiger-skin loincloths are undesirable acquaintances; I should never dream of so demeaning myself! And yet you say that for all my efforts to uphold Mother's standards, I don't look nice in my fine clothes! And you threaten to set your dog on me!"
"Well it's your own fault," Oboro pointed out, though she was much mollified by his tears. "What do you expect people to say when you're so horrid to them? Actually your clothes are quite attractive; but you see, we simply must cross this bridge, and cross it we mean to! My dog is very fierce, if I give her the word; so don't imagine you're going to catch and eat any of us, as you no doubt did to the man from whom you got that outfit."

Et cetera.
The fairy tale style story telling is not completely without its charm if allow yourself to go along with it, but you should be forewarned going into the book.

The book is filled with not only Japanese mythological creatures, but lots of Japanese words for everyday items and culture. Andon (pedestal lamp) Daimyo (feudal lord) Gagaku (court music) Geta (wooden clogs), etc. All of these words, in addition to all the mythological words that pop up in the story, are defined in the glossary in the back.
This is great for someone like me who is trying to use this book to study Japanese culture...at least in theory. Even I have to admit I don't always appreciate having to stop the story to flip to the back and look up a word.

I'm not sure how the target audience for this book, an actual child, would react to having to look up all these strange words in a glossary. Although this book has won some awards (The Children's Book Council of Australia Book of the Year) I suspect this is the kind of book teachers often make children read, rather than the kind of book they would read themselves.

The first 15 pages especially, when we're just getting introduced to Taro, the stuff around his house, and the setting of the book, is filled with several Japanese words that need to be looked up in the back. After that, once the story gets going its not so bad. But if you're trying to hook the reader early on, this is probably the worst thing you should do. If anything the first 15 pages should be completely free of any words that require a trip to the glossary, and then once the reader is hooked on the story strange new words can be gradually introduced. That would have been my advice if I was the publisher.

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The Plum-Rain Scroll by Ruth Manley: Book Review (Scripted)

Samurai William by Giles Milton

(Book Review)

In 1611, London's merchants received an intriguing letter written by a marooned English mariner named William Adams, who had been living in the unknown land of Japan for more than a decade. Seven adventurers were sent to Japan with orders to find and befriend Adams. It was believed he held the key to exploiting the opulant riches of this forbidden country; but when they arrived they discovered that Adams had gone native.--From the book cover jacket

This is a fascinating story told by an author with an eye for interesting details and an indulgence for interesting digressions.

In my opinion, the title of the book is slightly misleading because it gives the impression of a foreigner trying a little too hard to fit in with Japan. And although William Adams was granted official Samurai status by the Shogun, this is not really a Tom Cruise/ Last Samurai type of story. Instead this is more of an adventure on the high seas, exploring strange and exotic foreign lands, Robinson Crusoe/ Treasure Island type story.

The book begins with a brief account of the first Europeans to land in Japan (the Portuguese) and then digresses to some of the early attempts to find the legendary Northwest passage through to Asia.

And then finally we get to the story of William Adams, and the bizarre adventure that landed him in Japan.
Of course getting to Japan is half the adventure, and Giles Milton being the great story teller that he is recognizes this. William Adams was an English man aboard a Dutch trading fleet. The ship was loaded with so many weapons it was rumored the real purpose was to harass the Spanish and Portuguese colonies in the New World, but whatever the ships original purpose it never made it. Instead it was beset with on disaster after another on the coast of Africa and then in the New World. Battles with the Portuguese, ambushes by hostile natives, and the terrors of the straits of Magellan. Finally in desperation the men decide to sail to Japan (under the mistaken impression that it was a lot closer to South America than it actually was). When they arrive, all that is left of the original 5 Dutch ships is Adams and a handful of men.

Unfortunately Adams troubles do not end there, because the Portuguese priests, already established in Japan, are horrified that the protestants have landed on Japanese shores, and try to have William Adams crucified. That is until Adams becomes the friend and confident of the all powerful Tokugawa Ieyasu, after which the tables turn and Adams is able to use his influence at court against the Spanish and Portuguese.

Then the action changes again, and we go to the adventures of the British East India Trading company, which has heard rumors of a marooned English mariner in Japan with great influence in the Japanese court, and wants to contact him and use him to set up an English trading post in Japan.

And once again, getting there is half the story, and Giles Milton guides us through all the exotic adventures in strange land the crew has before they finally arrive in Japan and make contact with William Adams.

From this point on, the book is just as much the story of the British trading outpost as it is the story of William Adams, and we follow the adventures and misfortunes, squabbles, personal rivalries, and romantic affairs of the British men stationed out in Japan, and their at times tense relationship with William Adams.

This is a fascinating story and it takes place in the brief interlude between when European explorers and traders discovered Japan, and when all foreigners were expelled and Japan became a closed off country. It is interesting to see how the conflicts from Europe were carried over all the way into the Far East, such as the religious wars between Protestants and Catholics. Throughout much of this story the Dutch and English are stalwart allies, but eventually trading rivalries lead to war, much to the misfortune of the English in Japan (who are outnumbered and outgunned by the Dutch) and the annoyance of the Japanese (who resent having to police a foreign war on their own soil).
Milton, a British author, presents this as unprovoked acts of aggression by the Dutch. I'm not sure if a Dutch historian might take a different view.

The book also deals with the subject of the rise and fall of Christianity in Japan, going from at first being welcomed by the Japanese (as a way to encourage European traders) to being outlawed and horrible persecution. (If you though the Romans were cruel, it's amazing what the Japanese did to Christian converts.) The book entertains the possibility that William Adams, with his fierce anti-Catholicism and his influence in the Shogun's court, might have played some role in causing Christianity to be outlawed.

This book has been criticized for some for it's selective view of history and only focusing in on the interesting stories as opposed to providing a larger background. That's also it's charm though. Milton is an author never afraid to follow an interesting digression even if it has little to do with his larger story. So, for example, we are treated to the story of Captain John Saris, and the embarrassment his stash of pornographic pictures caused to the East India Trading company. Or the story of Captain William Keeling and his attempts to smuggle his wife onto his ship with him. And many other pointless, but delightful, similar digressions.

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Samurai William by Giles Milton: Book Review (Scripted)