On Gourmet.com, chef Wylie Dufresne discusses a recipe using sake kasu or sake lees in a brief video.
What are sake lees? At the end of the fermentation process of sake, the moromi is squeezed through a fine mesh. The clear sake will flow out and leave a solid rice substance behind. These "dregs" can be as much as one fourth of total volume.
Happily, these sake lees are not wasted. They are used in the Japanese kitchen as a marinade for fish or meat, made into a sweet rice drink, or re-used for brewing table sake. In fact, they are rich in proteins and very nutritious. They take the form of a thick rice paste sold in plastic bags from which the fragrance of sake still wafts up. In Japan, you will especially find them in winter, when all breweries are operating. Sake kasu has a distinct umami taste.
For some recipes, also of a delicious sake kasu soup, see John Gauntner's e-sake.com.
In the December issue of the same Gourmet magazine, Harris Salat travels to snowy Akita Prefecture in northern Japan to taste the local hot-pot food. He also visits the Okuda Sake Brewery, a three-hundred year old brewery making sake under the label Chiyomidori ("A thousand generations of Green", referring to the hills around the brewery in summer).
January 24, 2009
Godzilla and Postwar Japan
For many Americans, Godzilla seems to be the most famous "Japanese"... and that is not far off the mark as the evolution of the roaring city-destructing monster is a good reflection of the social and political changes in postwar Japan itself. In his turn, Godzilla has exerted a large cultural influence.
To get the ins and outs of the popular monster, view this online lecture by University of Kansas Professor William Tsutsui.
To get the ins and outs of the popular monster, view this online lecture by University of Kansas Professor William Tsutsui.
January 19, 2009
Ab-normal Beauty (film review)
It must have been the photographer of death, Joel-Peter Witkin, who inspired Oxide Pang Chung to this 2005 film Ab-normal Beauty (there is a shot in which we see Witkin's photo books). As Wikipedia relates, Witkin witnessed a car accident as a child in which a young girl was decapitated:
Jiney flirts with death herself when she threatens to jump from the 10th floor of Jasmine's apartment. The next day, she spots a real jumper somewhere in town and frantically takes photos of the death curve and poodle of blood in the street. She also covers her boyfriend in red paint and - while threatening him with a knife - takes pictures of him as if a victim of some terrible act.
Jiney gradually descends into self-destruction, a sado-nightmare she can't get out of. Her hallucinatory deterioration makes her view a cosmetic facial mask she puts on as a death mask. She also develops the urge to kill, as in the cruel scene with Anson. Luckily, Jasmine is there to help her through, but... next a sicko stalker sends her a snuff film in which a girl is killed, her head busted with a metal pipe.
When necrophilia is joined by snuff, in the last one-third of the film, the pace accelerates. The next snuff film which is sent her, features her lover Jasmine... and finally she finds herself in the torture room. Or aren't things what they seem, including Jiney? Who is really hidden under the mask?
The colors in which this film is shot are just as lurid as the fetishism. It is Pangish eye candy from start to finish. Although pop singer Race Wong is not the greatest actress, the stylish shooting of Oxide Pang more than makes up for it.
Ab-normal, yes, but also beautiful.
At the place where I stood at the curb, I could see something rolling from one of the overturned cars. It stopped at the curb where I stood. It was the head of a little girl. I bent down to touch the face, to speak to it -- but before I could touch it someone carried me away.Similarly, in Ab-normal Beauty it is a car accident that unleashes the appetite for death photos of talented Hong Kong art student Jiney Tsui (Race Wong). Death is the last taboo and Jiney's macabre photos of corpses of humans and beasts shy away her friends - lesbian lover Jasmine (Rosanne Wong, in real life her sister) and would-be boyfriend Anson (Anson Leung). They just can't understand why taking pictures of decapitated chickens and sliced open fish - , let alone victims of traffic accidents, - gives Jiney orgasmic thrills. In painting class Jiney draws a red line from the model's forehead to her toes, as if blood is dripping down. Necrophilia rides high.
Jiney flirts with death herself when she threatens to jump from the 10th floor of Jasmine's apartment. The next day, she spots a real jumper somewhere in town and frantically takes photos of the death curve and poodle of blood in the street. She also covers her boyfriend in red paint and - while threatening him with a knife - takes pictures of him as if a victim of some terrible act.
Jiney gradually descends into self-destruction, a sado-nightmare she can't get out of. Her hallucinatory deterioration makes her view a cosmetic facial mask she puts on as a death mask. She also develops the urge to kill, as in the cruel scene with Anson. Luckily, Jasmine is there to help her through, but... next a sicko stalker sends her a snuff film in which a girl is killed, her head busted with a metal pipe.
When necrophilia is joined by snuff, in the last one-third of the film, the pace accelerates. The next snuff film which is sent her, features her lover Jasmine... and finally she finds herself in the torture room. Or aren't things what they seem, including Jiney? Who is really hidden under the mask?
The colors in which this film is shot are just as lurid as the fetishism. It is Pangish eye candy from start to finish. Although pop singer Race Wong is not the greatest actress, the stylish shooting of Oxide Pang more than makes up for it.
Ab-normal, yes, but also beautiful.
January 18, 2009
Pumpkin shochu as the final act
As the Yomiuri reports, aging is a good thing, at least when you are made of pumpkin liqueur. Small shochu distillery Miyako no Izumi in Miyazaki Prefecture was preparing to close down for business, when its president Mr Tsuzuki discovered that some storage tanks still contained a 25-year old pumpkin shochu.
Shochu, Japanese distilled as opposed to sake which is fermented, can be made from a variety of materials: sweet potatoes, rice, barley, buckwheat, sugar reed and rice. But to make it from pumpkins is decidedly eccentric and not surprisingly the customers twenty five years back didn't like the taste.
However, the stuff seems to have aged to perfection and now tastes so great that before closing down for ever, the final act of the company is to ship its pumpkin shochu...
Shochu, Japanese distilled as opposed to sake which is fermented, can be made from a variety of materials: sweet potatoes, rice, barley, buckwheat, sugar reed and rice. But to make it from pumpkins is decidedly eccentric and not surprisingly the customers twenty five years back didn't like the taste.
However, the stuff seems to have aged to perfection and now tastes so great that before closing down for ever, the final act of the company is to ship its pumpkin shochu...
January 7, 2009
Fear and Trembling
Fear and Trembling is the imposing, almost Biblical title of a small novel (originally published in 1999) in which Amélie Nothomb describes the experiences of a young Belgian woman who works for a year in a large Japanese office in Tokyo. The protagonist, who is also called Amélie, is a well-intentioned and eager person, who was originally born in Japan - like the author, who is the daughter of a former Belgian ambassador to Japan. Working at the giant (fictional) Yumimoto Corporation, which seems to manufacture, import and export just about everything, on the 44th floor of a skyscraper, is a dream come true for her. Because she speaks Japanese, Amélie looks forward to an opportunity to use her language skills. Until cultures start clashing.
This is the 8th novel in a large oeuvre and not a documentary. So what follows is fiction and often caricature, and should not be taken too literally. All the same, there is insight and truth in the book as well, and some descriptions though seemingly exaggerated, are not far from the reality of Japanese corporate life as it was in the early nineties (the book is situated in 1990) - especially when you are a woman and a foreigner on top of that.
The strict corporate hierarchy is still firmly in existence, though - and that is the main cultural theme of the book. "Fear and Trembling" is the attitude with which to approach your superior in such a highly hierarchical society. At the start of the book, Amélie puts it like this:
Also typical for Japanese companies, certainly up to the nineties (and depending on the company, even today) is the fact that she does not have a job description. Nobody tells her what her responsibilities are. Initially, she has nothing to do. So, eager to find a role, Amélie begins to distribute the mail... only to find she is usurping the job of the mailman. Indeed, in Japan you can fill your formless job to a certain extent with own initiatives, but you should in all cases consult your boss... beforehand.
She next starts updating every calendar in the office but is told to stop because it is a distraction. As a punishment Mr Saito (the boss of her boss) fills her time with useless and even sadistic assignments. She has to write a certain letter on his behalf, but he tears up every new draft without even looking at it. Next she has to photocopy the thousand page rulebook of his golf club, a truly Sisyphean task, but he discards every new version (to the detriment of Japan's forests) as the text is not absolutely parallel to the edge of the page. He even forbids her to use the automatic feeder.
Amélie tries to talk it out with Miss Mori, but as Miss Mori only asks for an apology which Amélie of course refuses, their relations are on a downward slope from this moment on. Things collapse completely when Amélie makes another "well-intentioned" blunder. At a certain moment it is Miss Mori's turn to get the dressing down of the century from Mr Omochi. All colleagues can hear the terrible shouting of The Obese One and the small whimpering voice of Miss Mori imploring the boss of her boss not to be angry with her. Afterward, Amélie follows Miss Mori to the toilet room, to console her... where she catches her crying. Miss Mori almost kills her, because she has been seen in her moment of weakness and shame.
The story then seems to turn into caricature as Miss Mori puts Amélie through a terrible series of torments and degradations. Amélie herself makes mistakes too - she can't handle numbers and botches a simple accounting task. She thinks that the German abbreviation GmbH (Co., Ltd.) is the name of a company... this is all part of the slapstick.
Any normal person would have quit, but Amélie stays on... she wants to sit out her year, she thinks it is a shame to quit... but above all, although it is nowhere said in so many words, she wants to stay close to the beautful Miss Mori. Amélie firmly settles in a sadomasochistic relation with her boss:
Eventually she literally gets the lowest position possible: she is assigned to clean the toilets and she spends the last months of her life at Yumimoto changing paper in the loo.
Again it should be emphasized: this is a novel, a work of fiction. It is not a true account of the circumstances in a Japanese company, although some facets are true, as the strict hierarchy, the lack of job description, and the prevalence of office politics. But the main theme is not only Japan, it is just as much the sadomasochistic relation of Amélie and Miss Mori.
As such, it is a perfect little jewel, written in a sparse but concentrated language in which not a word could be changed - in the best tradition of the French novel.
Have you read Fear and Trembling? What do you think about the cultural aspects?
This is the 8th novel in a large oeuvre and not a documentary. So what follows is fiction and often caricature, and should not be taken too literally. All the same, there is insight and truth in the book as well, and some descriptions though seemingly exaggerated, are not far from the reality of Japanese corporate life as it was in the early nineties (the book is situated in 1990) - especially when you are a woman and a foreigner on top of that.
The strict corporate hierarchy is still firmly in existence, though - and that is the main cultural theme of the book. "Fear and Trembling" is the attitude with which to approach your superior in such a highly hierarchical society. At the start of the book, Amélie puts it like this:
"Mister Haneda was senior to Mister Omochi, who was senior to Mister Saito, who was senior to Miss Mori, who was senior to me. I was senior to no one."Amélie, too, has to observe the intricate, rigorous codes that govern corporate life and especially the relations between employees and their superiors in Japan and from the first day she stumbles. It already starts when she first admires the view over Tokyo from a high window instead of immediately announcing herself at the reception desk.
Also typical for Japanese companies, certainly up to the nineties (and depending on the company, even today) is the fact that she does not have a job description. Nobody tells her what her responsibilities are. Initially, she has nothing to do. So, eager to find a role, Amélie begins to distribute the mail... only to find she is usurping the job of the mailman. Indeed, in Japan you can fill your formless job to a certain extent with own initiatives, but you should in all cases consult your boss... beforehand.
She next starts updating every calendar in the office but is told to stop because it is a distraction. As a punishment Mr Saito (the boss of her boss) fills her time with useless and even sadistic assignments. She has to write a certain letter on his behalf, but he tears up every new draft without even looking at it. Next she has to photocopy the thousand page rulebook of his golf club, a truly Sisyphean task, but he discards every new version (to the detriment of Japan's forests) as the text is not absolutely parallel to the edge of the page. He even forbids her to use the automatic feeder.
Where's the problem?" He smiled. "You didn't have enough to do as it was.Another funny episode is where she has to serve tea when Mr Omochi (the boss of the boss of the boss) has important guests. She thinks she does it to perfection, uttering the correct phrases in polite Japanese. But she ends up making both Mr Omochi and Mr Saito furious:
"How could our business partners have any feeling of trust in the presence of a white girl who understood their language? From now on you will no longer speak Japanese."But the main theme of this novel are not the cultural clashes. It is the relation between Amélie and her immediate superior, another woman. When Amélie first arrives at Yumimoto, she is fascinated by Miss Mori, whom she initially regards as a friend and protector. Miss Mori also is an immaculate beauty:
She was ravishingly svelte and graceful despite the stiffness to which she, like all Japanese women, had to sacrifice herself. But what transfixed me was the splendor of her face. [...] She had the most beautiful nose in the world, a Japanese nose, an inimitable nose, whose delicate nostrils would be recognized among a thousand others.Miss Mori is the highest female in the company. Relations with her quickly go awry, however, especially after Amélie takes on an assignment from the manager of another division, Mr Tenshi. She is asked to write a marketing report about low-fat butter in Belgium and does it to the perfect satisfaction of Mr Tenshi and herself. It is the only meaningful task she has in a whole year of working at Yumimoto, although it was a job above her status. But Mr Omochi is livid and accuses her of sabotaging the company. He is explodes even louder after she, a Westerner and - the hight of injury - individualist, dares talk back to him.
The content was incredibly insulting. [...] I would have been capable of anything to stop the hideous screaming - invade Manchuria, persecute millions of Chinese, commit suicide for the Emperor, hurl my plane into an American battleship, perhaps even work for two Yumimoto Corporations.But the most shocking thing is that she has been denounced to Mr Omochi by the beautiful Ms Mori, whom she so admired. As Mr Tenshi puts it:
"Miss Mori struggled for years to get the job she has now. She probably found it unbearable for you to get that sort of promotion after being with the company only ten weeks."By the way, this is something I have observed myself in Japanese surroundings: you sometimes come across small-minded superiors who refuse to give their staff any meaningful work until they prove their loyalty by just sitting at their desk for a number of years. Much human and other capital is wasted in this way. Another thing I have noticed in certain Japanese work environments is that office politics play such a large role - much more than in Holland. Perhaps that is because of the hierarchy and the fact that there is little mobility. This can lead to bitter competition between colleagues, envy, and suspicion. Japanese employees are also quick to build factions.
Amélie tries to talk it out with Miss Mori, but as Miss Mori only asks for an apology which Amélie of course refuses, their relations are on a downward slope from this moment on. Things collapse completely when Amélie makes another "well-intentioned" blunder. At a certain moment it is Miss Mori's turn to get the dressing down of the century from Mr Omochi. All colleagues can hear the terrible shouting of The Obese One and the small whimpering voice of Miss Mori imploring the boss of her boss not to be angry with her. Afterward, Amélie follows Miss Mori to the toilet room, to console her... where she catches her crying. Miss Mori almost kills her, because she has been seen in her moment of weakness and shame.
The story then seems to turn into caricature as Miss Mori puts Amélie through a terrible series of torments and degradations. Amélie herself makes mistakes too - she can't handle numbers and botches a simple accounting task. She thinks that the German abbreviation GmbH (Co., Ltd.) is the name of a company... this is all part of the slapstick.
Any normal person would have quit, but Amélie stays on... she wants to sit out her year, she thinks it is a shame to quit... but above all, although it is nowhere said in so many words, she wants to stay close to the beautful Miss Mori. Amélie firmly settles in a sadomasochistic relation with her boss:
Eventually she literally gets the lowest position possible: she is assigned to clean the toilets and she spends the last months of her life at Yumimoto changing paper in the loo.
Again it should be emphasized: this is a novel, a work of fiction. It is not a true account of the circumstances in a Japanese company, although some facets are true, as the strict hierarchy, the lack of job description, and the prevalence of office politics. But the main theme is not only Japan, it is just as much the sadomasochistic relation of Amélie and Miss Mori.
As such, it is a perfect little jewel, written in a sparse but concentrated language in which not a word could be changed - in the best tradition of the French novel.
Have you read Fear and Trembling? What do you think about the cultural aspects?
Fear and Trembling was filmed by Alain Corneau with Sylvie Testud as Amélie and Tsuji Kaori as Miss Mori.
January 4, 2009
Crossfire
Crossfire is a supernatural mystery novel by prolific author Miyabe Miyuki (1960). The complex story is seen through the eyes of two women. One is Aoki Junko, a "human flame thrower" - she can start fires through willpower, and she uses her "pyrokinetic powers" to avenge unsolved rape cases - a comic book premise if ever there was one, and one for which the author offers no explanation (perhaps wisely so). The other is Sgt. Ishizu Chikako of the Tokyo police department's arson squad, who with her partner pragmatically tries to make sense of the inexplicable incinerations. At the same time, as a woman, she is largely marginalized within the police system. The picture Miyabe gives of Japanese society and family life is a very bleak one.
The beginning of the novel, with only Aoki Junko, is great, especially when the pyrotechnics explode. It is the artistry of Miyabe which makes us accept the powers of this troubled young girl as real; Miyabe even describes her internal struggles with them in a convincing, psychological way. Hunting after a vicious youth gang, who throw kidnapped girls out of cars and then run them over, Aoki Junko leaves a trail of toasted criminals. But she also starts questioning her acts as she sees that innocent people die in the "crossfire" - by the way, a theme that is not worked out very well, all the more since this became the title of the novel.
Later on the story gets a bit bogged down in police procedural when the focus shifts to Ishizu Chikako. It is also not very interesting to follow the police, as we already know the solution... Of course, Miyabe still has a few tricks up her sleeve, such as the introduction of a second, younger girl with the same powers and, above all, a sinister underground citizen's organization of justice seekers outside the law, the Guardians. This vigilante group tries to recruit Aoki Junko, or at least, so it seems. In the end, Miyabe even manages to top it off with a breathtaking and fiery climax.
After finishing the book, the characters are too thin to be memorable. The premise, of the human flamethrower and her psychological struggle, is interesting and new, but the focus shifts too soon to rather mundane police work. And while as reader I can with some effort stomach one impossible element, adding a second, that of the Guardians, is just too much - it makes the novel unreal. I also wonder what Miyabe wants to say with this book. That justice in Japan is too lenient and that we need self-justice from either human flamethrowers or the Guardians? That would be dangerous. Or does she disprove of this type of judgment outside the law because innocents could be hurt in the crossfire?
That being said, Crossfire still is a good page turner and not one of the worst time wastes you can lay your hands on. Better to wear oven gloves, though.
The beginning of the novel, with only Aoki Junko, is great, especially when the pyrotechnics explode. It is the artistry of Miyabe which makes us accept the powers of this troubled young girl as real; Miyabe even describes her internal struggles with them in a convincing, psychological way. Hunting after a vicious youth gang, who throw kidnapped girls out of cars and then run them over, Aoki Junko leaves a trail of toasted criminals. But she also starts questioning her acts as she sees that innocent people die in the "crossfire" - by the way, a theme that is not worked out very well, all the more since this became the title of the novel.
Later on the story gets a bit bogged down in police procedural when the focus shifts to Ishizu Chikako. It is also not very interesting to follow the police, as we already know the solution... Of course, Miyabe still has a few tricks up her sleeve, such as the introduction of a second, younger girl with the same powers and, above all, a sinister underground citizen's organization of justice seekers outside the law, the Guardians. This vigilante group tries to recruit Aoki Junko, or at least, so it seems. In the end, Miyabe even manages to top it off with a breathtaking and fiery climax.
After finishing the book, the characters are too thin to be memorable. The premise, of the human flamethrower and her psychological struggle, is interesting and new, but the focus shifts too soon to rather mundane police work. And while as reader I can with some effort stomach one impossible element, adding a second, that of the Guardians, is just too much - it makes the novel unreal. I also wonder what Miyabe wants to say with this book. That justice in Japan is too lenient and that we need self-justice from either human flamethrowers or the Guardians? That would be dangerous. Or does she disprove of this type of judgment outside the law because innocents could be hurt in the crossfire?
That being said, Crossfire still is a good page turner and not one of the worst time wastes you can lay your hands on. Better to wear oven gloves, though.
The No-Car Life
I was pleasantly surprised to find this article, "Japan auto sales plunge as young lose interest," on Japan Today. It is about the phenomenon of “kuruma banare,” or “demotorization“ among young people, who regard owning a car as more trouble than it’s worth.
I could not agree more, as Japan certainly is the country least suited to cars in the world. I owned a car once too, way back in Tokyo, but used it only infrequently and after a couple of years got rid of it. I have never looked back. Japan’s streets are clogged but trains are efficient and clean. There is no space to park, not near your house and not when you go somewhere - unless you pay through the nose. Car prices are not very high, seen internationally, but gasoline, taxes, insurance, mandatory shaken tests etc. are quite expensive. Driving on Japan's narrow roads is an extremely unpleasant experience. Now I live in central Kobe, and I can get to most places on foot, or else I take the train.
Only outside the big cities a car is still a necessity even in Japan - but that is the fault of planners: putting huge shopping malls in the middle of nowhere and letting the shotengai, the efficient shopping malls in the town centers, die a slow death.
The image of the car has also changed. It is just a thing that you use if you need it, but not anymore a status symbol. Many young people prefer to spend their money on a computer or other communication tools or services.
So it is not surprising that the carmakers in Japan are getting nervous. The population is already declining, due to "demotorization" sales will go down even more - we are already back at the level of 1980. I don' mind, as I feel there are still too many cars in this country... Perhaps Honda and Toyota can start making household robots instead of cars?
I could not agree more, as Japan certainly is the country least suited to cars in the world. I owned a car once too, way back in Tokyo, but used it only infrequently and after a couple of years got rid of it. I have never looked back. Japan’s streets are clogged but trains are efficient and clean. There is no space to park, not near your house and not when you go somewhere - unless you pay through the nose. Car prices are not very high, seen internationally, but gasoline, taxes, insurance, mandatory shaken tests etc. are quite expensive. Driving on Japan's narrow roads is an extremely unpleasant experience. Now I live in central Kobe, and I can get to most places on foot, or else I take the train.
Only outside the big cities a car is still a necessity even in Japan - but that is the fault of planners: putting huge shopping malls in the middle of nowhere and letting the shotengai, the efficient shopping malls in the town centers, die a slow death.
The image of the car has also changed. It is just a thing that you use if you need it, but not anymore a status symbol. Many young people prefer to spend their money on a computer or other communication tools or services.
So it is not surprising that the carmakers in Japan are getting nervous. The population is already declining, due to "demotorization" sales will go down even more - we are already back at the level of 1980. I don' mind, as I feel there are still too many cars in this country... Perhaps Honda and Toyota can start making household robots instead of cars?
January 3, 2009
Keitai novels
Dana Goodyear, poet and staff writer of The New Yorker, has an excellent piece on the phenomenon of the keitai novel - cell phone or mobile phone novels (I found the article thanks to Metanotame, which also has an interesting and lively discussion section on this subject).
Keitai novels are meant to be read in short chapters, with new installments downloaded every day. As Wikipedia says: "The first cell phone novel was “published” in Japan in 2003 by a young online writer, Yoshi. His first cell phone novel was called Deep Love, the story of a teenage prostitute in Tokyo. It became so popular that it was published as an actual book, with 2.6 million copies sold in Japan, then spun off into a television series, a manga, and a movie."
This first keitai novel was an exception, because it was written by a man. The keitai phenomenon that took off two or three years ago, has been wholly dominated by women. They write under short pen names, and strictly guard their real identity. Often they are young married women, who in their stories may pretend to be much younger. Also due to the nature of the medium, the novels are written in simple language, with very short sentences and a minimum of descriptions.
In 2007 five out of the ten best selling novels in Japan were originally cell phone novels. Like Deep Love, they are all about adolescent sex, rape, pregnancy and fatal disease. Tearjerkers, like the popular "Seishun Eiga" (films about love among adolescents) or for that matter, Harlequin novels. Although there are differences with this last category - most keitai novels are not written by professionals and not for money either, but rather by young women who pour out their heart and prefer to remain anonymous - the conservative elements i.e. approval of the status quo of society, for example male domination, are the same as in the Harlequin books. Although they may contain slang and sexuality, keitai novels are in no way subversive.
They are not literature either (which must always contain such a subversive element, if only in the new way it teaches us to experience the world around us). The establishment need not be worried, although they are - perhaps because of the huge sales - it is painful to read that famous critics have been insulting the keitai novelists by making cheap fun of their pen names. Novelist Banana Yoshimoto puts it better. Although she herself considers keitai novels a waste of time, she says: "If the cell-phone novels act as some consolation, that is fine." It is an interesting social phenomenon that has empowered many young women and enabled them to share their feelings and thoughts via these stories. By the way, I do not hear about any author getting rich thanks to their enormous sales, so the money probably went squarely to the publishing houses or the internet companies on whose sites they were originally published.
Back to the article by Dana Goodyear, which I recommend. It is a long and detailed piece, all the more interesting because the author did her own investigations in Tokyo. She talked with various people in the industry and finally was able to meet Mone, one of the reclusive authors of keitai novels, a young married woman of short stature in "red tights and Eskimo boots and a meringue-shaped black knit cap with a pompom." Mone is the author of the popular keitai novel Eternal Dream about a young woman who is raped, saved by a nice guy she falls in love with but who later appears to be her half brother etc. etc. It was among the 10 most popular books of 2007.
Dana Goodyear has an interesting website herself... Part of the website is her blog which she unfortunately stopped updating. It is worth going through the archives, with for example a post about "Gary Snyder in Japan." But there is more on the site and the design is... well, interesting... something like a scratch board.
Dana Goodyear is also a poet and the site contains some of her work as well. Here is an example:
Keitai novels are meant to be read in short chapters, with new installments downloaded every day. As Wikipedia says: "The first cell phone novel was “published” in Japan in 2003 by a young online writer, Yoshi. His first cell phone novel was called Deep Love, the story of a teenage prostitute in Tokyo. It became so popular that it was published as an actual book, with 2.6 million copies sold in Japan, then spun off into a television series, a manga, and a movie."
This first keitai novel was an exception, because it was written by a man. The keitai phenomenon that took off two or three years ago, has been wholly dominated by women. They write under short pen names, and strictly guard their real identity. Often they are young married women, who in their stories may pretend to be much younger. Also due to the nature of the medium, the novels are written in simple language, with very short sentences and a minimum of descriptions.
In 2007 five out of the ten best selling novels in Japan were originally cell phone novels. Like Deep Love, they are all about adolescent sex, rape, pregnancy and fatal disease. Tearjerkers, like the popular "Seishun Eiga" (films about love among adolescents) or for that matter, Harlequin novels. Although there are differences with this last category - most keitai novels are not written by professionals and not for money either, but rather by young women who pour out their heart and prefer to remain anonymous - the conservative elements i.e. approval of the status quo of society, for example male domination, are the same as in the Harlequin books. Although they may contain slang and sexuality, keitai novels are in no way subversive.
They are not literature either (which must always contain such a subversive element, if only in the new way it teaches us to experience the world around us). The establishment need not be worried, although they are - perhaps because of the huge sales - it is painful to read that famous critics have been insulting the keitai novelists by making cheap fun of their pen names. Novelist Banana Yoshimoto puts it better. Although she herself considers keitai novels a waste of time, she says: "If the cell-phone novels act as some consolation, that is fine." It is an interesting social phenomenon that has empowered many young women and enabled them to share their feelings and thoughts via these stories. By the way, I do not hear about any author getting rich thanks to their enormous sales, so the money probably went squarely to the publishing houses or the internet companies on whose sites they were originally published.
Back to the article by Dana Goodyear, which I recommend. It is a long and detailed piece, all the more interesting because the author did her own investigations in Tokyo. She talked with various people in the industry and finally was able to meet Mone, one of the reclusive authors of keitai novels, a young married woman of short stature in "red tights and Eskimo boots and a meringue-shaped black knit cap with a pompom." Mone is the author of the popular keitai novel Eternal Dream about a young woman who is raped, saved by a nice guy she falls in love with but who later appears to be her half brother etc. etc. It was among the 10 most popular books of 2007.
Dana Goodyear has an interesting website herself... Part of the website is her blog which she unfortunately stopped updating. It is worth going through the archives, with for example a post about "Gary Snyder in Japan." But there is more on the site and the design is... well, interesting... something like a scratch board.
Dana Goodyear is also a poet and the site contains some of her work as well. Here is an example:
Double VisionA review in the NY Times calls this an "ominous lullaby" in a poetry collection dominated by "wit and anger." The collection, her first, is aptly called "Honey and Junk."
I feel a shadow watching
when I comb my hair.
You are backlit in the reading chair.
I keep asking where and where.
There, there. No, there there.
Practical advice for New Year in Japan
Here is some practical advice I followed this year with New Year in Japan to make life more pleasant (comparable to my advice to stay indoors at midnight on New Year's Eve when you are in Europe, as private fireworks (worth 65 million euro in Holland alone) will be blasted in your face):
- Don't watch television on New Year's Eve. The "Red and White Song Competition" (Kohaku Uta Gassen) on NHK is getting more infantile every year and the "Yukitoshi-Kurutoshi" where temple bells tolling out the year on various locations are shown around twelve o'clock, is always larded with morbidly melancholic commentary - especially when the economy is down.
- Buy the ingredients for osechi, the cold New Year food by yourself instead of getting a ready-made set. In this way, you can concentrate on things you like instead of having a box stuffed with over-priced inedibles.
- Skip the Hatsumode shrine visit on the first and second of January, but instead wait until the third, or even better, the fourth. On the fourth, there will be no crowds to speak of.
Legends of Tono
It is almost 100 years ago that Yanagita Kunio (1875-1962) wrote his famous "Legends of Tono" (Tono Monogatari) and to celebrate this the 1975 translation by Ronald A. Morse has now been republished in a beautiful expanded version. It is an excellent translation that captures the terseness and realism of the original. In addition, there are several introductions: a new one by the translator, and previous ones by him and Richard Dorson about the author, the book and its significance. There is also an extensive new bibliography and the text has been enhanced with some well-chosen photographs.
Yanagita Kunio was one of those privileged persons who married a well-to-do partner and could spend most of his life dabbling in his hobbies: literature and (increasingly as a real vocation) folklore studies. The early (1910) Legends of Tono stands on the borderline of these two activities: it is excellent literature but also a precious record of peasant life in the rural Tono area.
I would not in the first place call it legends, though - as Dorson says in his introduction, many of the 119 short pieces are rather "memorates," i.e. "remarkable and extraordinary experiences told in the first person." Although two fairy tales have been included as well, many of the records are not even stories, but flimsy pieces of things heard or seen. That makes the book all the more interesting as a real account of the world of Tono - both things seen and unseen... much space is taken up by the fear for the supernatural.
We find the mountain god and deities who guard the home, such as oshira-sama; goblin's like kappa and tengu; weird behavior by monkeys and wolves; cases of kamikakushi, strange disappearances of people; and the superstition that whoever gets rich, the choja, must have had supernatural assistance. I also re-encountered the Zashiki-warashi, whom I first met in Yokai Attack. But there is also a story of a son who murdered his mother, a real and shocking happening.
We also can see Yanagita's fascination with mountain folk religion start in this book. The "memorates" were told to Yanagita by Sakai Kizen, a young native of Tono whom he met in Tokyo. Subsequently, Yanagita also visited the area, riding on horseback through the villages.
Countless memorates like the above must have existed, but they have been wiped out with the brains that contained them. Thanks to the record Yanagita Kunio so carefully took only those about this small northern group of villages and market town of Tono have survived. It is no surprise that Legends of Tono is by far the most popular among the hundreds of scholarly books Yanagita wrote. The town of Tono now lives off these legends - it has based its tourist industry on them.
Yanagita Kunio was one of those privileged persons who married a well-to-do partner and could spend most of his life dabbling in his hobbies: literature and (increasingly as a real vocation) folklore studies. The early (1910) Legends of Tono stands on the borderline of these two activities: it is excellent literature but also a precious record of peasant life in the rural Tono area.
I would not in the first place call it legends, though - as Dorson says in his introduction, many of the 119 short pieces are rather "memorates," i.e. "remarkable and extraordinary experiences told in the first person." Although two fairy tales have been included as well, many of the records are not even stories, but flimsy pieces of things heard or seen. That makes the book all the more interesting as a real account of the world of Tono - both things seen and unseen... much space is taken up by the fear for the supernatural.
We find the mountain god and deities who guard the home, such as oshira-sama; goblin's like kappa and tengu; weird behavior by monkeys and wolves; cases of kamikakushi, strange disappearances of people; and the superstition that whoever gets rich, the choja, must have had supernatural assistance. I also re-encountered the Zashiki-warashi, whom I first met in Yokai Attack. But there is also a story of a son who murdered his mother, a real and shocking happening.
We also can see Yanagita's fascination with mountain folk religion start in this book. The "memorates" were told to Yanagita by Sakai Kizen, a young native of Tono whom he met in Tokyo. Subsequently, Yanagita also visited the area, riding on horseback through the villages.
Countless memorates like the above must have existed, but they have been wiped out with the brains that contained them. Thanks to the record Yanagita Kunio so carefully took only those about this small northern group of villages and market town of Tono have survived. It is no surprise that Legends of Tono is by far the most popular among the hundreds of scholarly books Yanagita wrote. The town of Tono now lives off these legends - it has based its tourist industry on them.
Article on Yanagita Kunio from the Japanese Journal of Religious Studies.
Article on Yanagita Kunio in SamuraiWiki.
Translation of Japanese Folktales, assembled by Yanagita Kunio, translated by Fanny Hagin Mayer.
Richard Dorson is himself the author of Folk Legends of Japan
Japanese homepage of Tono City.
January 2, 2009
New Year links
In the first place: a very Happy New Year to all readers! I hope the Year of the Cow will be a bullish year for you!
Start the New Year with sake and mochi!
Five Ways to have a Japanese New year anywhere in the world (Tokyo Mango).
Japanese food is going global, not only as expensive "health food", but also with more affordable noodles - Globaltalk21 comments on "Two Japanese Restaurants in NYT Top Ten New Restaurants List."
[P.S.: also see this NY Mag article about "Cut-rate Asian food"]
Start the New Year with sake and mochi!
Five Ways to have a Japanese New year anywhere in the world (Tokyo Mango).
Japanese food is going global, not only as expensive "health food", but also with more affordable noodles - Globaltalk21 comments on "Two Japanese Restaurants in NYT Top Ten New Restaurants List."
[P.S.: also see this NY Mag article about "Cut-rate Asian food"]
The new Michelin Guide celebrates Tokyo's restaurants:As the old city and its customs disappear, what is left of Kyoto is fast becoming a themepark for tourists. Most of the maiko ("geisha") you meet in the streets are other tourists, dressed up for a couple of hours of fun... Of course these custumed visitors like to get attention from other visitors and enjoy having their picture taken. Is it a wonder that foreign tourists make the mistake (BBC) thinking that the rare real maiko is part of the same game?
When the Kyoto "neighborhood patrols" announced in the BBC article above make it difficult to take your own pictures of real maiko, enjoy them in this book about Komomo, a real geiko in Miyagawacho:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)