Saturday, September 20, 2014

ANTI-NUCLEAR CRUSADER: NAOTO KAN IN AUSTRALIA

Former political leaders can end up doing a variety of jobs. Former U.S. vice-president Al Gore travels the world talking about climate change whilst former Japanese prime-minister Kan Naoto is pursuing an anti-nuclear campaign. Earlier this year, he brought this message with him to Australia talking about his experience as prime-minister during the Fukushima power plant meltdown. Australia being a major exporter of uranium is obviously a place where he would like his message to be heard. He talked about how during the Fukushima disaster his government had come close to evacuating people from a 250 kilometre radius of Fukushima. This would have included Tokyo and would have involved displacing 40% of the population or 50 million people. At the time of Kan's visit to Australia there were plans for Australian prime-minister Tony Abbott to visit India where he was to sign an agreement to sell Australian uranium for the first time. When Kan resigned as prime-minister due to criticism of his initial handling of the Fukushima incident and the slow pace of reconstruction he later won approval for his plans to phase out nuclear power. The legislation he drew up to realise this aim was overturned by the election of an LDP government led by Abe Shinzo in 2012. His pleas for Australia to reduce the world's dependency on nuclear power will fall on deaf ears as the Abbott government has no interest in the renewable energy sector.   


Friday, September 19, 2014

EMPTY VESSELS: MURAKAMI HARUKI'S 'COLOURLESS TSUKURU TAZAKI'

In Murakami's ;latest novel, a colourless man who considers himself to be an empty vessel, is rejected by his close-knit group of high school friends at the age of twenty. Out of the group of five friends he is the only one to leave Nagoya to pursue his studies in Tokyo. He wishes to become an engineer specialising in the construction of railway stations. Hence the significance of his name Tsukuru, which means 'to make'.
 
The notion of being an empty vessel is significant in Murakami's writing. In the first story in After the Quake, Komura agrees to take a small box to Hokkaido. When he arrives in Hokkaido he doesn’t feel like he has come a long way. What is interesting about the box is that it appears to contain nothing. After his wife leaves him Komura reads in her letter that although he is good and kind, “living with you is like living with a chunk of air”. At the end of the story, after failing to get an erection, Komura is told by the mysterious Shimao, “That box contains the something that was in you”. Having felt he has come a long way Shimao tells him “But really, you’re just at the beginning. In Colourless Tsukuru Tazaki, Tsukuru finds himself close to death for a period of six months but he recovers and notices that his face has changed. He finishes his studies, finds work and has several girlfriends but there is nothing permanent in his life. It is not until he meets Sara, who forces him to make contact with his old friends that he lost sixteen years ago, that he uncovers the truth about the past and is able to confront his unresolved feelings. On of the triggers that sets him on this course of action is his failure to get an erection. Having taken Sara home she had "reached out and gently took his hard penis in her hand... But a little later, as he was entering her, his penis went limp. It was the first time in his life that this had happened to him and, and it left him baffled and mystified." It is a mystification that deepens...

As events are uncovered, his dreams parallel and inform the events that unfold. He has lurid sexual fantasies about the two girls in the group. Whilst he is caressed by and has sex with both of them, he only ever ejaculates inside Shiro. It turns out that Shiro had a horror of sex. Her father was a doctor who performed abortions. When she was raped, she blames Tsukuru. Even though Kuro knows that this is a false accusation, she stands by Shiro because she feels whilst Shiro is weak and needs protection, Tsukuru is strong and can survive. As she explains to Tsukuru, sixteen years later, when he comes to find her in Finland, she figured that he was a survivor. Later, Shiro has a miscarriage and moves to Hamamatsu. It is here that she is strangled to death. Tsukuru was not told about this at the time. He feels that he was in some way responsible and so was possibly the reason for her death. Kuro feels the same way. It turns out that she was also in love with Tsukuru at the time which made her feel even worse.

In the period before he re-established contact with his old friends, Tsukuru met  a man at the local swimming pool named Haida. Haida tells him the story about his father who had a death charm. He always carried package with him which he placed on the piano before he played. When Haida disappeared from Tsukuru's life, he sees it as yet another example of  how people abandon him for little or no reason. He is afraid of losing Sara and so puts together the pieces of his past so that he can be together with her. When they have sex she feels that he is absent. Later on he comes to feel that  he has a lump inside him which needs to melt.

As an engineer, Tsukuru builds train stations, these are designed for safety as people are transported across the system. In Tokyo, the centre piece of this system is Shinjuku station. The fact that 3.5 million people use this station each day makes it the busiest station in the world. He loves stations and often sits in them to observe passengers in transit. He reflects on the famous photo that depicts a wave of Japanese commuters, head down and looking pensive, which an American photographer had taken. The idea was that even though they had experienced an economic miracle, they were unhappy. Tsukuru feels that this hypothesis missed the point. It gave no context for the look on their faces. The reality was that, given the volume of people in the system, there is a need to keep moving. If someone trips or loses a shoe the results could be catastrophic.

Finally, as events unfold, there is a musical motif provided throughout the novel. The characters listen to a piece of music Mal de Pays by Lizst which Shiro used to play on the piano. Tsukuru listens to one recording given to him by Haida whilst Kuro listens to another. These are quite different interpretations which leads to a reflection on the nature of music and the reading and interpretation of musical notes. This leads to a raised awareness of birds and bird song in the novel. Birds make an appearance regularly and it is through their songs that they make their presence felt. Tsukuru observes in Finland that, "The cries of the birds made for an unusual melody. The same melody pierced the woods, over and over." Kuro (now called Eri) says, "The parent birds are teaching their babies how to chirp... Until I came here I never knew that." Tsukuru decides that:

"Our lives are a complex musical score... Filled with all sorts of cryptic writing, sixteenth and thirty-second notes and other strange signs. Its next to impossible to correctly interpret these, and even if you could, and then could transpose them into correct sounds, there's no guarantee that people would correctly understand, or appreciate, the meaning therein. No guarantee it would make people happy. Why must the workings of people's minds be so convoluted?

The novel ends with a conversation at 4 a.m.. Sara has agreed to meet Tsukuru the following day. He has asked her if she is seeing someone else. She has asked for three days before she gives him her answer. Eri's advice to Tsukuru is, "... make sure you hang on to Sara. You really need her." Presumably the fact finding that he has been engaged in will enable him to  conquer his erectile dysfunction, but there are no guarantees that she will choose him. In Tsukuru's world of railway stations, "Everything proceeds smoothly, efficiently, without a hitch, down to the second." But the reality is that there are aberrations in life such as having six fingers. Luckily, whilst these might be the product of a dominant gene, these are "nothing more than one among many elements in tendency distribution."

Sunday, July 20, 2014

FLOWER METHOD: AZUMA MAKOTO

A bonsai in space... why not? Dogs and chimpanzees have been sacrificed for the cause before, why not plants? Especially plants that have been trained to conform to the most exacting standards that can be imposed to please the aesthetic standards of their masters. At least a plant that is restricted in its growth to the size of a miniature is not as drastic as a woman's foot. (Apologies for the species discrimination.) In this era of eco-tourism, eco-food packaging  and eco-love, Azuma Makoto has produced eco-art. in his publication Flower Method, there are photographs of Botanical Installations and Botanical Sculptures, a Botanical Lady Dior and a Global Green display for Isetan. There are House Visions, a Lego Pine and a decoration for Roppongi Hills 10th anniversary. In case people feel the artist is getting carried away there are examples of sublime humour in this rarified atmosphere such as the Botanical Ashtray and Hello Moss Kitty!

Saturday, July 12, 2014

YAMASHITA KYOSHI: HADAKA TAISHO (LIFE OF A VAGABOND)

TAMA had twenty years together creating their anarchic folk music. These days Chiku and drummer Ichikawa perform with a band called Pascals whilst the other members, Takimoto and Yanagihara, have their own solo careers. Part of TAMA's charm was in their rejection of the cute, manufactured J Pop appearance and sound. Instead they embraced a more primitive or naïve style. In particular, drummer Ichikawa Kohji adopted a casual dress sense based on the artist Yamashita Kyoshi, a legendary figure with Downs syndrome who wandered Japan, often without a shirt, painting. Known as the Japanese Van Gogh, he died in 1971 at the age of 49. It was during the war when he ran away and began living the life of a vagrant painting as he went. He had to beg for his own food and was once arrested for vagrancy. His style of painting is described as being 'mosaic'. Clearly his pictures have also influenced the painting style of film director Kitano Takeshi. There is a clear similarity between the pictures of Yamashita Kyoshi and the artwork that is featured in Takeshi's film Hanabi.
 





Tuesday, March 4, 2014

PSACALS LIVE AT WOMADELAIDE

Unfortunately I did not get over to Adelaide to see Pascals at the Womadelaide festival in 2012 but thanks to this video you can see and appreciate the sound of the band for yourselves. Chiku (ex Tama) is playing the ukele and along for the ride is Tama's former drummer, Ichikawa Koji, (that's him on the side of the stage hamming it up as usual for the camera). Although the camera strays, it never strays too far away as Ichikawa's infectious, good humour adds such a presence on stage. Yes that's him playing around with a chair later on in the song for some extra sound and visual effects. In the second clip for 'Dan Dan Batake' he appears to have found a plastic raincoat which, with his red socks and red shorts, adds some more chutzpah (not sure what the Japanese term for this is, iki iki?) to his stage presence. In this song he accompanies Chiku on vocals with a bit of triangle playing. On one of the Pascals CDs they do a version of the Rolling Stones song 'Satisfaction', it is a great piece of understatement given that it is such a bloated industry and the band has such a bloated reputation and the song is filled with such a lot of bloated recognition. Somehow they manage to disguise it so that even its own mother (Mick and Keith) wouldn't recognise it. You could say that they take the cock out of rock, or, you could just enjoy the music. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZsGYN_7qqc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAJxgD8rbJM

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

TSUGUMI AND THE UGLY FEMALE

Tsugumi, in Tsugumi (1989), is a quintessential shojo manga character in that she reflects the ‘petty individualism’ that Kinsella (2000) argues critics have associated with the shojo manga genre. Tsugumi is characterised as being obnoxious to all of the people around her. These include her sister, Yoko, her cousin, Maria, and her mother and father. Maria, the narrator, writes that:

“If I had to make a list of the Top Three Victims of Tsugumi’s Outrageously Nasty Disposition, the order would undoubtedly be: Aunt Masako, then Yoko, then me. Uncle Tadashi kept his distance” (Goodbye Tsugumi, 1989a, English translation 2002, 4).
In her selfishness Tsugumi recalls the Yukino character in Yoshimoto’s earlier novel Kanashii Yokan (A Sad Premonition) (1988d).  This type of character is not entirely new in Japanese writing, however. In the 1939 short story ‘The Schoolgirl’ (In Run Melos and Other Stories) by Dazai Osamu, the narrator wakes up and says ‘I’m at my ugliest in the morning’ (44). She speculates later about a female Christ and thinks, ‘How repulsive’ (51). Later, after being ‘nauseated’ by a pregnant woman wearing makeup on the train she says:

“Women are so disgusting. Being one myself, I know all too well what filthy things women are, and I hate it so much it makes me grind my teeth. The unbearable smell you get from handling goldfish – it’s as if that smell covers your entire body, and no matter how much you wash and scrub, it won’t come off. And when I think that I’ve got to go through every day of my life emitting that smell, that female smell, there’s something else that pops into my mind and makes me think I’d just rather die now, as I am, still a young girl” (Run Melos and other Stories, 1988, 70).
This misogynistic depiction of women brings to mind the Meiji period writer Kunikida Doppo who suggested that women were “monkeys mimicking humanity.” Tsugumi is obnoxious but Yoshimoto is careful to place this in context. She is associated with the fantasy women characters in Yoshimoto’s writing like Urara in Moonlight Shadow (1988a). Tsugumi is described as being an ‘unpleasant woman’ (1) and ‘like the devil’ (3). Her room is described as being like a scene from The Exorcist (5). As a result of illness, she has been treated kindly since birth and people are afraid for her health. Tsugumi is described as ‘growing into her badness’ in this environment (4). In terms of the novel’s construction, Tsugumi’s character represents rebellion as opposed to her cousin Maria who represents conformity.

Furuhashi Nobuyoshi argues that this split between narrator and main character is necessary because Tsugumi is such a ‘selfish’ character (1990, 103). Furuhashi argues that by having Maria narrate Tsugumi’s story, Yoshimoto demonstrates that even a ‘selfish’ character such as Tsugumi may be understood (106). And this is a very different emphasis from that of Doppo or Dazai. However, Tsugumi is not just ‘understood’ by Maria, she also inspires Maria, who comes to see the suffering that Tsugumi masks through anti-social behaviour. They enjoy a symbiotic relationship in which each needs the other. Tsugumi needs someone to tell her story and Maria learns to be strong from Tsugumi. This is the enclosed world of the shojo. It is a world of intense feeling in which Maria says of the days spent on the island with Tsugumi ‘… those days were blessed’ (161). The enclosed shojo world cannot last forever, however.
Earlier in Tsugumi (1989) when the girls’ favourite series came to an end on TV, Maria says:

“That night, having wriggled down into my futon all alone, I found myself in the grips of a wrenching sadness. I was only a child, but I knew the feeling that came when you parted with something, and I felt that pain” (Goodbye Tsugumi, 1989a, English translation 2002, 67).
Tsugumi describes a group of ‘four women enjoying each other’s company’ (27). As such, it is also a forerunner to the ‘women’s paradise’ in Amrita (1994). But Yoshimoto does not just describe the vulnerability of this world and suggests that there is more to the world of the shojo, as Aoyama (2004) argues, than passivity and frivolity. Rather than witnessing the decline of Tsugumi’s health, the reader is shown Tsugumi learning to take responsibility for others. Thus, when the dog, Gongoro, is kidnapped, Maria says, ‘It was the first time in her life Tsugumi had gotten angry on someone’s behalf. Something about her seemed sacred to me then’ (Tsugumi, 1989, English translation 2002, 137). When Gongoro disappears again, Tsugumi digs a deep hole at the back of a neighbouring house. Yoko, Tsugumi’s sister, discovers the hole and rescues one of Gongoro’s youthful kidnappers trapped inside. When she tells Maria this story, Yoko describes it as a ‘genuine adventure’ (151). Maria reminisces and says, ‘She hadn’t changed a bit since she was a girl. All along she had been living in a universe of thought that was all her own, shared with no one else’ (156). There is a sense of purity about Tsugumi’s single-mindedness. This event becomes part of their shojo folklore, all the more precious because of Tsugumi’s illness.

Treat describes Tsugumi as the ‘perfect shojo who will never grow up’ (1996, 295). For Tsugumi, there is ‘never anything but “today”’ (295). He argues that in Tsugumi, ‘Yoshimoto Banana generates a youth (seishun) that could be anywhere, at any time, as an act of homage to a present that does not necessarily have to be “now” or “here” (296). He is critical of Yoshimoto on the basis that her ‘contemporary nostalgia lacks any determined past to validate it’ (296) and points to how Yoshimoto portrays herself as the perfect shojo in the postscript identifying herself with Tsugumi rather than the successful author she has become as an adult (297). Treat asks ‘why childhood and adolescence should be so idealised as a lost object at the expense of a future adulthood?’ (1996, 297) and suggests that characters like Maria are narcissistic and reluctant to let go of their adolescent selves. This could be true, but Maria is also vulnerable because of her parent’s relationship. Even though Maria is hurt by Tsugumi’s anti-social behaviour, she can see through it and forms a strong friendship with Tsugumi. Tsugumi is to be admired, not pitied. Tsugumi might be an 'ugly female' character but she is no longer to be judged by the standards of the past.

Monday, February 24, 2014

THE EQUIVOCAL DAZAI OSAMU: 'ONE HUNDRED VIEWS OF FUJI' AND 'SCHOOLGIRL'

Dazai Osamu wrote The Setting Sun (1947) which defined a generation in post-war Japan in the same way that Sartre defined the new reality and mind-set of post-war France. This was a period in which there was almost no sense of continuity between one generation and the next. The void was filled by a profound sense of nihilism which was most clearly expressed by Dazai.
 
In the short story 'One Hundred Views of Mt Fuji' written in 1939 before the war Dazai was already prepared to cast a disparaging eye on his surroundings, in this case Mt Fuji, the most celebrated mountain in Japan. Deciding to visit his mentor Mr Ibuse at Tenka Chaya (tea-house) at Misaka Pass Dazai observes that the mountain is nothing like the famous paintings by the likes of Hiroshige and Hokusai instead the angle of the mountain is such that it is "almost pathetic as far as mountains go." His trip to the mountain is just as disappointing given that it involves a "bone-shaking, hour-long ride." All is not a total loss, however, and on a trip to his mentor's friend's house he sees a photograph of the mountain's  crater covered in snow like "a pure white waterlily." Glancing at the young woman his mentor has recommended for marriage he is inspired to  marry her. "That" he says, "was a Fuji I was grateful for." Later, when there is a snow fall at Misaka Pass, the narrator is called outside to admire the mountain. Observing the summit he notes that it is "pure and radiant and white." He is moved to exclaim "Not even the Fuji from Misaka Pass is to be scoffed at." Nothing in this world of fleeting sensations is unsullied for long, however, and when a group of prostitutes visit the tea-house the narrator is momentarily pained by his inability to change the world He then looks at Mt Fuji "looking for all the world like the Big Boss, squared off in an arrogant pose" and is relieved of his sense of responsibility.
 
The final insult arrives in the form of a bride who stops her car in order to spend some time outside the tea-house contemplating the mountain before her wedding. This was a scene that the narrator decides is "titillatingly romantic" until the bride does something unforgivable and gives a "great yawn." The mood is ruined and the young female servant at the tea-house condemns her as a "hussy". This embarrasses the narrator as his own plans for marriage are now well advanced and he has overcome the lack of financial support that his family is willing to provide. In the penultimate moment in the story two secretaries ask him to take a photograph of them with Mt Fuji in the background. He imagines their surprise when they develop the film and find he has photographed the mountain in such a way that they are not included in the picture. In this way he pays homage to the mountain saying "Goodbye Mt Fuji. Thanks for everything." The sceptical Dazai has to some extent fallen unwillingly under the spell of the mountain.

This sense of equivocation can also be seen in the short story 'Schoolgirl' when the narrator tells the reader that she occasionally pulls a few weeds near the front gate in order to do her "labor service" for mother. She wonders why, "there are some weeds you want to pull out and some you want to leave alone. They're all weeds, they all look exactly the same, so why are they all so different? Weeds that strike you a s darling and weeds that don't; lovely weeds and hateful weeds - why are they so clearly divided? There's no logic to it, of course. A woman's likes and dislikes are just so random and haphazard." Racked by self-doubt and loathing the narrator gives Dazai the opportunity here to explore some of his more misogynistic thoughts.