Maoh: Juvenile Remix, Vol. 1

June 10, 2010 — Zack Davisson

5.0 out of 5 stars Battle not with Monsters

Maoh: Juvenile Remix, Vol. 1

“Maoh: Juvenile Remix” is an interesting comic in that it comes from popular novelist Kotaro Isaka (Golden Slumbers). Kotaro is known in Japan as “Haruki’s child” after novelist Murakami Haruki (Hardboiled Wonderland and the End of the World). Like Murakami, Kotaro has that ability to bridge the gap between serious and popular literature, between complex social ideas and outlandish genre imagery.

Megumi Osuga has brilliantly adapted Kotaro’s style and story for the manga “Maoh: Juvenile Remix,” bringing together heady concepts of social justice, of corporations and politicians vs the rights of citizens, of the sins of progress, and the nobility of action vs inaction. All of these ideas have been presented in a comic that is also beautifully drawn and highly entertaining.

The story presents 11th grade student Ando, a perpetual bystander in life who harbors a secret. From a young age, he has had the psychic ability to put words in other people’s mouths, to be a ventriloquist as he calls it. The power is innately passive; he cannot influence their thoughts or actions, only their words. Ando himself does not necessarily believe in his own power, and thinks that these instances might be more coincidence than anything else.

Ando lives in the fictional city of Nekota, a small town on the cusp of modernization, where the City Councilor Miyuki Yamamoto is attempting to bring in corporate money with the creation of a new Urban Center. Many residents oppose this, feeling that the corporate money will only drive out local businesses leaving the current residents of Nekota jobless and hopeless. Presenting a shining light to the populace is a charismatic young leader named Inukai who leads a vigilante groups known as the Grasshoppers. Inukai and his Grasshoppers have dedicated themselves to ending crime and corruption at all costs and by any means necessary in Nekota, and while most hail them as local heroes Ando discovers that the group might be hiding a dark secret. Slowly, he is forced to re-evaluate his position of merely “staying out of everyone’s way” and taking a more active role in his life and the lives of others, and possibly taking control of his own mysterious power.

I was impressed with “Maoh: Juvenile Remix.” There is a lot more going on here than I originally suspected from the cover, and this is a heavier series with more depth and character than a typical manga. I am used to unconfident, passive heroes in Japanese comics, but Ando’s particular psychic ability gives him an excuse to be passive, and to stay behind the front line. He is a manipulator, as opposed to Inukai who is a leader and a doer. The two make for a nice opposition.

Stylistically, the book could be compared to Death Note or Deadman Wonderland, with a somewhat dystopian environment that is an alternate Earth more than a future. The masked image of the Grasshoppers also brings to mind Pink Floyd – The Wall, and the frightening nature of Gestapo “liberators.” How much freedom are you willing to sacrifice in order to live in peace?

Megumi Osuga’s art is splendid, realistic at times and cartoony at others. Dirty at times and clean at others. Horrific at times and inspiring at others. Ando has the typical “any man” look about him, while Inukai plays with the “beautiful boy” look that exemplifies a hero. Megumi drops some light fan service here and there, but in interesting ways such as Ando’s brother’s girlfriend Shiori who is so tomboyish she doesn’t even bother to button up her shirt correctly, or the girl Machiko who is almost comically large-breasted and works to shake Ando out of his lethargy.

Clearly, there is a lot going on in “Maoh: Juvenile Remix,” more than this first volume can contain. We are only given glimpses behind the curtain here, but what we are shown is more than enough to hook us for the next. I am very much looking forward to the next volume.

Posted in Manga. Tags: , . 3 Comments »

Kwaidan: Ghost Stories and Strange Tales of Old Japan

April 9, 2010 — Zack Davisson

Kwaidan: Ghost Stories and Strange Tales of Old Japan (Dover Books on Literature & Drama)

5.0 out of 5 stars Japan’s most famous collection of ghost and monster tales

“Kwaidan” is Lafcadio Hearn’s most famous book, and justifiably so. It is the least academic of his works, collecting together some of Japan’s core ghost and monster stories into one slim volume. Much like the Brothers Grimm, Hearn did not actually create these stories but rather compiled them and put them into written form for the first time, learning them from folk tales and storytellers.

Because it is in the Public Domain, there are innumerable different versions available of Lafcadio Hearn’s seminal “Kwaidan,” including several free versions available online. Anyone interested in Japanese folklore or Japanese literature or even Japan in general is going to need a copy of “Kwaidan” in their collection. That is just a given. But it is difficult to know which one to choose.

This edition, from Dover Publishing, is a nice book featuring the full unabridged text of the original 1904 publication. This version carries the subtitle “Ghost Stories and Strange Tales of Old Japan” which is different from Hearn’s subtitle “Stories and Studies of Strange Things,” but that is the only difference.

The illustrations are the real selling point for this particular edition, being created by illustrator Yasumasa Fujita for the artesian publisher Shimbi Shoin in Tokyo, active from the 1860s to the 1930s. Yasumasa created a silk-bound version of “Kwaidan” with his illustrations as a high-end collectible book. While the original release with Yasumasa’s illustration fetches hundreds of dollars on the collectible market, here you get the same illustrations (although in black-and-white instead of the original color plates) along with Hearn’s original text.

Along with being his most famous, “Kwaidan” is Hearn’s most influential book. “The Story of Mimi-nashi Hoichi” is as well-known in Japan as “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” is in the United States. The “Yuki Onna” has made it into a few films, including Kurosawa’s Dreams and the filmed version of this book, Kwaidan.

The stories themselves are of excellent quality, ranging from spooky ghost tales to humorous tales of wandering monks encountering monsters. Along with the stories are three insect studies, the likes of which can be found in all Hearn books. These are excellent academic studies of insects in traditional Japanese folk lore, including children’s songs and haiku poetry involving insects.

Each story ranges from 5-15 pages long. Included are:

The story of Mimi-nashi Hoichi
Oshidori
The story of O-Tei
Ubazakura
Diplomacy
Of a mirror and a bell
Jikininki
Mujina
Rokuro-kubi
A dead secret
Yuki-Onna
The story of Aoyagi
Jiu-Roku-Zakura
The dream of Akinosuke
Riki-Baba
Hi-Mawari
Horai

Insect Studies -
Butterfiles
Mosquitos
Ants

Posted in Japanese History, Japanese Literature. Tags: , . 2 Comments »

The Legends of Tono: 100th Anniversary Edition

March 25, 2010 — Zack Davisson

5.0 out of 5 stars One of the classics of Japanese folklore

The Legends of Tono: 100th Anniversary Edition

Much of what we know of Japanese folklore might have been lost forever if it were not for two authors, Lafcadio Hearn and Kunio Yanagita. Both were avid collectors of the mysterious tales of weird and imaginative creatures that were passed down as oral folklore but never written down. Both did their work at the start of the Meiji era, a time when, in the name of modernization, the government and scholars of Japan were actively attempting to wipe out the beliefs and superstitions of previous eras which were thought to be embarrassing to a country entering the modern age.

“The Legends of Tono” (Japanese title “Tono Monogatari”) is the most famous of Yanagita’s works, collecting the narratives of the small town of Tono in Iwate prefecture, as told to him by local resident and storyteller Kizen Sasaki. The stories collected in “The Legends of Tono” include some of Japan’s most famous monsters like the kappa and the child-ghosts zashiki-warashi. Along with Hearn’s Kwaidan: Stories And Studies Of Strange Things and Ueda Akinari’s Tales of Moonlight and Rain, “The Legends of Tono” is one of the most classic and important books on Japanese folklore.

A surprisingly small book for one that carries so much weight, there are exactly one hundred and nineteen legends spread out over fifty-eight pages. Many of these legends are only a sentence in length, and often there are three to four different legends on a page. Some of them are a bit longer, maybe a paragraph or two, and typical of Japanese folklore they do not tell a complete story but rather just describe an odd circumstance or the history behind some strange stone or tree local to a certain village. Many explain customs of the time in Tono village, and the movements of household gods and festivals. Some are sexual cautionary tales, and other frights designed to keep people in their proper place for fear of punishment. Yanagita’s style was to record the legends in a straight-forward manner without decoration and little elaboration.

However, packed inside Yanagita’s short sentences is an ocean of depth, one that is almost impossible to know just through a quick reading. Indeed, in Japanese there are annotated versions of “The Legends of Tono” that go on for four hundred pages or more digging into each of Yanagita’s terse sentences as if mining for gold. His simple and direct writing style would become a massive influence on author Mishima Yukio (The Sailor who fell from grace with the sea) who considered “The Legends of Tono” to be the finest-written work of Japanese literature.

There was more to “The Legends of Tono” than simple folklore gathering and writing however. This was a book with a political agenda. Yanagita was protesting against official histories at the time, which concentrated only on the rich and powerful and ignored the lives and hopes of the millions of poor peasants who, in the words of someone with similar inclinations, “did most of the living and dying” in Japan. Yanagita did not want to see the stories of these people lost to the tides of time, and so he gathered them up and wrote them down for future generations.

This “100th Anniversary Edition” celebrates the original 1910 publication of “The Legends of Tono.” It reprints the 1975 translation prepared by Yanagita-scholar Ronald A. Morse. Morse includes a preface to the 100th Anniversary Edition, the original forward to the 1975 edition written by Richard M. Dorson who had actually worked and studied with Yanagita, and a new introduction discussing the relevance of Yanagita’s work today. These three introductions add a bit of bulk to the publication, and some background on Yanagita and his relevance.

Morse also includes a “Guide to English-Language Writings on Kunio Yanagita and “The Legends of Tono”" in the back of the book for those interested in pursuing further study on the man and his works.

Posted in Japanese Literature, Japanese Religion. Tags: , , , . Leave a Comment »

The Tattoo Murder Case

February 13, 2010 — Zack Davisson

5.0 out of 5 stars Tattoos are only skin deep

A locked room murder mystery. A hidden underbelly of society, populated by beautiful tattooed women who work behind doors opened by secret codes. A legend of three ancient sorcerers, linked together to carry a curse. A mysterious and driven older professor, known by the name of “Dr. Tattoo” for his obsession with skinning the bodies of tattooed corpses so that he may collect and preserve their unique art. A naive and idealistic young forensics student, seduced and far in over his head

These are the elements that author Takagi Akimitsu has woven together in order to create his grand design. Using the background of post-War Japan, a place bombed into despair and turned upside-down, he crafts his tale with precision and style, each element added at precisely the right time to extract the most impact from its revelation. This is a brilliant detective novel.

Kinue Nomura is a sensual and beautiful woman of the underworld, her skin carrying the last known tattoo of her famous father. An Orochimaru design, its twisted serpent design snares any man who she reveals it to. Kenzo Matsushiita is the young forensic student, just back from the War where he served as a medic, he is eager to put his past behind him and work towards his doctorate, but his love of mystery novels and the excitement of Kinue assure that he will follow another path.

Also involved is the world of the Japanese tattoo, and art form beautifully described in the novel by Takagi, and one completely illegal during the setting of this novel. The taboo nature of the art, the sexual nature of decorated naked flesh, the secrets hidden behind the ink, all of these add a primal feel to the logical structure of the crime, creating a balance of order and chaos, of body and brain. As someone who is also privileged to carry a Japanese tattoo, I really appreciated the sincerity and detail of this part of the novel.

Special note must also be made of the translation, which was flawless. The translator did a perfect job of maintaining Japanese words were appropriate, giving explanations of cultural terms rather than unsuitable translations.

This was enough to get me hooked on the author. I am looking forward to delving into further Takagi mysteries.

Posted in Japanese Literature. Tags: , . Leave a Comment »

Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World

January 23, 2010 — Zack Davisson

5.0 out of 5 stars Two into One

I’ve had this book on my shelf for quite sometime now, and it just never seemed to make its way into my reading pile. I enjoyed both of my previous Murakami books, Sputnik Sweetheart and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle: A Novel, but he never really ranked amongst my favorite authors, Japanese or otherwise. His odd blending of magical realism and dreamtime philosophy reminds me of Neil Gaiman’s work more than anything else. It is enjoyable, but I have to be in the mood for it. When I had a long plane flight to look forward too, I figured it was finally time to enter the realm of “Hard-Boiled Wonderland and The End of the World.”

The title of the book gives you some clue as to what to expect inside. “Hard-Boiled” refers to the “Hardboiled Detective” fiction of Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler, where a dame with trouble on her heels walks unexpectedly into a man’s life followed quickly by danger and adventure. “Wonderland” is of course a reference to the topsy-turvy realm of Alice In Wonderland where logic flies out the window and nothing could ever predict what was around the next corner. “The End of the World” thrust the book into the realm of science fiction and cyberpunk. And in truth the book is all of these things.

Basically two books split in half and then shuffled together, “Hardboiled Wonderland” is the story of a Calcutec, a human encryption system, who is charged with “shuffling” data in order to protect it. The Calcutec is an employee of The System, who protects information from the criminal element known as Semiotecs. When a mysterious genius professor and his seductive chubby daughter hire the Calcutec to shuffle some data, he suddenly finds himself the prize in a game between The System and the Semiotecs, both of who want what is in his head, and the mysterious unicorn skull that has come into his possession.

“The End of the World,” is the calmer, balancing story of a mysterious land surrounded by a high wall, where everyone is known by the name of their archetypical character. The General, who spends his days playing chess, The Gatekeeper, who guards the doors, The Librarian, who watches the information, and The Dreamreader, who collects fragments of old dreams and reads them for some unknown purpose.

These two worlds are linked somehow, and the book flips back and forth between the frantic pace of “Hard-Boiled Wonderland” and the soothing calm of “The End of the World.” Murakami keeps a skillful balance between the two, slowly leaking information that connects the two worlds, until the reader has the eventual “ah-ha” moment that brings the two halves into a single whole.

Murakami also does a good job of playing around with genres without falling into clichés and stereotypes. He is makes sure that the genre suits the story, rather than the other way around. The book never lapses entirely into hardboiled, or cyberpunk, or dreamscape fantasy. The unexpected lies around every corner, and the ending will take even the most seasoned reader by surprise.

Posted in Japanese Literature. Tags: . Leave a Comment »

The Gourmet Club: A Sextet

January 13, 2010 — Zack Davisson

5.0 out of 5 stars Six courses of Tanizaki

The world of Tanizaki Junichiro is a disturbing place. The author of such classics of Japanese literature as Seven Japanese Tales, Naomi: A Novel (which created the idea of the “modern girl” in Japan) and The Secret History of the Lord of Musashi and Arrowroot, Tanizaki explores the extremes of fetishism and body horror, of the dark corners of everyone’s minds where in fantasy things are carried too far and the most despicable of pleasures are satisfied.

At the same time, Tanizaki is the absolute master of the tease. More than any other author I know of, Tanizaki can bring you to the very edge of desire, then suddenly back away leaving you feeling deliciously frustrated. As sexual as his work is in nature, there is almost no actual sex in his stories. Tanizaki will have his female character naked and bound, helpless on the floor of an abandoned warehouse to which she is kidnapped, and when the protagonist slowly approaches the woman, and every dark impulse in your psyche is screaming out “rape her! rape her!” the male attacker will instead produce a clump of overripe strawberries that he suddenly squishes over the woman’s face. His work leaves you lying exposed, ashamed of your own dark impulses and frustrated at the lack of climax. They are, in short, exquisite.

This collection, “The Gourmet Club,” brings together six of Tanizaki’s tales (a sextet no less!), spanning his lengthy career from 1911 (“The Children,” “The Secret”), only a year after he made his literary debut, all the way to 1955 (“Manganese Dioxide Dreams”) which was published ten years before his death. The style ranges between the stories, with some, like “The Two Acolytes” being an uncharacteristic Buddhist morality play to others like the titular “The Gourmet Club” which satisfies all appetites.

All of the tales here have their own particular flavor of obsession. “The Children” focuses on four children and the games they play when no adults are looking. “Mr. Bluemond” talks of living in the public eye, when a director is forced to confront his actress wife’s most devoted fan, and wonders just how much of her he has sold. “The Secret” is about the love of the taboo, and how the thrill disappears when secrets are revealed. “The Gourmet Club” is a classic tale of one of my favorite deadly sins, and how the lust for flavors can be every bit as overwhelming as the lust for flesh.

With each story, Tanizaki strings you along, dangling pieces in front of you and then pulling them away. I was surprised at the ending of every story, as Tanizaki never serves exactly what he appears to offer on the menu.

Special note must be paid to translators Anthony Chambers and Paul McCarthy. They each took turns translating the stories, and they were smooth enough that I can not tell the difference between them. All of the stories are pure Tanizaki. Chambers is a translator I am familiar with, having translated “The Secret History of the Lord of Musashi and Arrowroot” as well as doing a beautiful job with the almost-untranslatable Tales of Moonlight and Rain. Paul McCarthy was new to me however, and I was impressed with his work.

Posted in Japanese Literature. Tags: . Leave a Comment »

Kappa

December 22, 2009 — Zack Davisson

5.0 out of 5 stars The distorted mirror of Kappaland

“Kappa” is told from the point of view of Patient 23, an asylum inmate who tells of his incredible journey into the heart of Kappaland, peopled by the Kappa, the magical creatures of Japanese folklore.

In the tradition of “Gulliver’s Travels,” inside Kappaland, Akutagawa, author of “Rashomon” and “In the Grove,” has created a twisted reflection of both his contemporary Japanese society and his own self-loathing. It has been a difficult tale to interpret in Japan, being hailed as either a children’s story, a social satire or simply weird. Akutagawa himself feared insanity due to his mother’s mental deterioration during his youth, and his own justified fear of the taint of madness in his blood.

Akutagawa’s mental state when writing “Kappa” is important background, and the paperback edition comes with an extensive mini-biography of the famous author that is almost the size of the story itself. Akutagawa never wrote novels, and it is strange to see a single story packaged in one book. The introduction/biography is well written as well, and helps to reveal the story.

The writing in “Kappa” is sharp and quick-witted. The satire is equal parts clever and odd. Religion, marriage, arts and entertainment, all are in part skewered and skewed. The book is an incredibly fast read, and one that you will want to pass to your friends to read as well, so that you can see what someone else makes of it.

Posted in Japanese Literature. Tags: , . Leave a Comment »

The Yotsuya Kwaidan or O’Iwa Inari: Tales of the Tokugawa, Volume 1

December 15, 2009 — Zack Davisson

4.0 out of 5 stars A unique version of the familiar legend

“Yotsuya Kaidan” is unquestionably THE Japanese ghost story, the most famous and most instantly recognizable story from a very haunted culture. There are numerous filmed versions of the tale (about 60 different versions or so, most likely more) and uncountable written versions and translations.

This 1916 version, adapted by James S. De Benneville as the first of his two-part Tales of the Tokugawa, Vol 2, is different from the most familiar versions. In his introduction, De Benneville says that the story he relates was told to him by a storyteller in the Yoshiwara pleasure district, named Shunkintei Ryou. Shunkintei himself claims that this was the true account of the legend, and that it could only be told now some ninety one years after the original performance in 1825 of the play by Tsuruya Nanboku IV.Of course, as a professional storyteller who claimed to know the true, secret version of Japan’s most famous ghost story, Shunkintei’s claim should be taken with a grain of salt.

This version of the tale starts not with Oiwa and Iemon, but with their respective parents. The father of Iemon is responsible for the death of Oiwa’s father, leaving their children with the inherited burden of karma. (This piece was clearly lifted by Shunkintei from Sanyutei Encho’s 1859 story “Reckoning at Kasane Swamp” recently filmed as Kaidan.) Oiwa is given in marriage to Iemon, both of them unaware of their connection. Iemon, a rouge and a scoundrel, married Oiwa for her money and estate, but longs for a way to rid himself of his wife so that he may marry the prostitute Ohana with whom he has long been in love. Scheme builds on scheme, allies are recruited and Oiwa’s downfall is plotted. Just when all the conspirators are congratulating each other, however, Oiwa rises again in terrible vengeance.

There are several differences from this translation and the classic “Yotsuya Kaidan.” Aside from the elements added from “Kasane Swamp,” the Oiwa in this story has always been miserably ugly, so much so that her nickname is “the Obake” or “the Goblin.” Although she is rich, she is far to hideous to attract a husband and even the scum Iemon must be lured by trickery. Many of the familiar side-characters are also missing. There is no Naosuke lusting for Oiwa’s sister Osode, and partnering with Iemon in murder. There is no Oume in love with Iemon, and Ito Kehei is only interested in the downfall of the Tamiya house, and not his daughter’s happiness.

Probably the biggest difference is the lack of Oiwa’s vengeful ghost herself. As this was written in 1917, during the Meiji Restoration and not the Edo Period like the original kabuki play, it was a time when Japan was somewhat ashamed of its supernatural past feeling it was primitive and unenlightened as compared to science-minded Western culture. This shows in that Oiwa’s hauntings are almost never played as a straight ghost story, but almost as transference of psychological guilt felt by those who helped in her downfall. Is it the real ghost of Oiwa crying for vengeance, or simply the guilty consciences of those who have done her wrong? Blood is spilled, and it is gory, but the pale face of Oiwa almost never shows her face.

As for the translation, I don’t know how good De Benneville’s grasp of Japanese was, but the translation is rough and in an odd style. The long vowel is handled in a way I have never seen before, putting the extra vowel in brackets such as Encho[u] or To[u]kyo. Until you get used to this style it is distracting to read. Also, several words that De Benneville apparently didn’t know he simply left in Japanese, which is fine if you are a Japanese speaker yourself but might frustrate some without abilities in the language.

Posted in J-Horror, Japanese Literature. Tags: , , . Leave a Comment »

The Narrow Road to Oku

November 6, 2009 — Zack Davisson

oku

5.0 out of 5 stars Simply beautiful

“The Narrow Road to Oku” is about as close to perfection as one can get. First you have Matsuo Basho, Japan’s greatest poet, chronicling his hundred and fifty day journey into Oku to visit the grave of his mother, who had died the previous year. Translating this masterpiece is Donald Keene, possibly the greatest modern interpreter and translator of the Japanese mind. If this wasn’t enough, Miyata Masayuki has taken Basho’s poetry and created stunning works of Kiri-e, torn paper art, that provides a visual to match the written imagery.

“The Narrow Road to Oku” was the last of Basho’s five travelogues, and he finally attained the essential balance between observation and inspiration, between prose and poetry. Along the narrow road he and his traveling companion, student Kawai Sora, experienced the highs and lows of ancient Japan. The Tokugawa Shrine at Nikko, the famed Bridge of Heaven at Matsushima and the ancient Ise Shrine were all stops on this fantastic voyage. As well as these wonders, he encountered poor prostitutes and fishermen, giving them equal time to his poetic genius.

Miyata Masayuki, as he has with other books in this series such as “The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter” and “Love Songs from the Man’Yoshu,” has created delightful and whimsical artwork that enhances rather than distracts from Basho’s musings. There is a hint of Ukiyo-e in his style, but not enough to consider it redundant. The art is fresh and lively. sometimes powerful and bittersweet.

The original Japanese text is preserved alongside Keene’s translation, which I think is essential of a work of this type. “The Narrow Road to Oku” is 100% authentic, and 100% beautiful. Definitely a treasure in my library.

Posted in Japanese Literature, Kodansha. Tags: , , . Leave a Comment »

Botchan: A Modern Classic

November 6, 2009 — Zack Davisson

botchan

5.0 out of 5 stars One of the best Japanese novels ever! And its funny!

Lighthearted. Fast moving. Hilarious. These are not adjectives usually associated with classic Japanese literature or with Natsume Soseki, an author whose image graces the 1,000 yen note in Japan. Soseki’s intense novel “Kokoro” (which translates as “heart” or “spirit”) is famed for its insight into the Japanese soul. But he was a young man once too, who laughed and loved and mocked, and this early comic novel is no less penetrating for its sense of humor.

“Botchan” is the classic City Mouse tale. Botchan is a Tokyo boy, through and through. Lazy, unmotivated, and spoiled by the housekeeper who raised him, he suddenly finds himself needing to make his own way in the world when his father dies and his older brother inherits the fortune. Thinking school is easier than work, Botchan takes his brother’s offer to pay his way through university. Life is good so far, but even Botchan must graduate, and he finds himself educated and assigned as a middle school teacher in a rural town in the island of Shikoku, Japan’s most rural island. Arrogant and sure of his superiority over the hicks, Botchan quickly runs afoul of the locals and winds up in a merry war with both students and co-teachers.

Reminiscent of the best of Mark Twain’s yarns, “Botchan” is layers upon layers of wit and hijinks. A short, snappy novel, the narrator’s own self-assurance blinds him from the mechanisms against him that are so obvious to the reader. All the townspeople are pure characters, each with their own Botchan-given nickname such as “Porcupine,” “The Hanger-on” or “Redshirt.” Twined into the story is Botchan’s protective elderly maid, Kiyo, who’s blind support and admiration of Botchan only feeds his swelled ego, yet adds a touching element of humanity to the tale.

Added to all this is Soseki’s brilliant insight into the Japanese school system. Over 100 years later, little has changed and I laughed out loud as Botchan experienced things that I experience every day as a teacher at a Japanese high school. To see a Japanese person, especially one as revered as Soseki, voicing the very thoughts in my head is an absolute pleasure. Anyone wanting an authentic insiders look into Japanese society and culture would do much better laying down their copy of “The Enigma of Japanese Power” and picking up a copy of “Botchan.”

J. Cohn’s translation is perfect, preserving both the humor and the insight, and manages to portray the class differences of the Tokyo and Shikoku dwellers without resorting to cheap tricks like using Southern US accents and such. He must have a great sense of humor himself, and I look forward to more translations from him.

Insightful and penetrating, a window behind the hidden doors of Japan, “Botchan” is also hands-down the most entertaining Japanese novel I have ever read. Highly, highly recommended.

Posted in Japanese Literature, Kodansha. Tags: , , . Leave a Comment »
« Older posts
Newer posts »
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.