Mishima’s Sword: Travels in Search of a Samurai Legend

Author: Christopher Ross
Publisher: Da Capo Press
ISBN: 9780306815683
Released: October 2007

If I remember correctly, I first came across Christopher Ross’ Mishima’s Sword: Travels in Search of a Samurai Legend while looking for biographies of Yukio Mishima. While Mishima certainly plays an important role in the book, Mishima’s Sword isn’t exactly a biography but still promised to be an intriguing read. First published as a hardcover in 2006 by Da Capo Press, and later as a paperback in 2007, Mishima’s Sword was included in the Kiriyama Prize’s 2007 list of notable books. Part biography, part memoir and part travelogue, with a healthy dose of philosophical musing, Mishima’s Sword is an interesting book. Most likely it will appeal to those who, like me, are already interested in Mishima or in Japanese swords and swordsmanship. It also provides an outsider’s look into Japanese culture in general, including glimpses into some of its shadier aspects. I was intrigued to see what Ross would have to say about it all.

On November 25, 1970, Yukio Mishima, one of Japan’s most prominent authors, committed seppuku in the office of General Mashita at the headquarters o the Self Defense Force in Tokyo. A sword that he had received as a gift several years earlier was used as part of the ritual suicide and went missing after the incident. Decades after Mishima’s death, Christopher Ross travels back to Japan, having previously lived there for a few years, in order to attempt to better understand Mishima and his actions and perhaps even track down the missing sword. Ross doesn’t have much information to go on and discovers that many people are reluctant to even discuss Mishima. Once he realizes this he turns his attention to learning more about Mishima’s sword, hoping to have more success with this aspect of his journey. His search leads him to some very interesting places indeed.

After a brief introductory section called “Death in Tokyo,” Mishima’s Sword is divided into two main parts: “Primary: Word(s)” and “Secondary: (S)word.” Although Ross’ search for Mishima and the sword are obviously closely linked, “Word(s)” focuses on his pursuit to understand Mishima while “(S)word” concentrates on his efforts to discover more about the sword. Also included in Mishima’s Sword is a selected bibliography of works by and about Mishima as well as works on bushidō and Japanese swords. A glossary of Japanese terms used throughout the book is also provided. There’s no index, which is somewhat unfortunate, but then again Mishima’s Sword isn’t exactly meant to be a reference work. It’s more of a memoir, and an engaging one at that. But I still wished that I could navigate it a little more easily when I wanted to look up specific information.

I thoroughly enjoyed Mishima’s Sword and found it to be both immensely engaging and readable. Ross’ tale isn’t told in a strictly linear fashion; the narrative consists of a collection of connected thoughts, musings, and diversions. While it is not always clear how a particular digression or tangent is relevant to the work as a whole, they are always interesting. Sometimes the only clue is to be found in the end notes which. I would recommend reading these anyway because they contain important and often fascinating information. While it is not necessary to enjoy Mishima’s Sword, I was glad that I had previously read one of Mishima’s biographies (Mishima: A Biography by John Nathan) as it helped to put the parts of the book dealing with Mishima into better context and perspective. At times, Mishima’s Sword almost seems to read like a novel. While this makes the work approachable, to some extent it also occasionally feels as though the facts are being embellished. But overall I found Mishima’s Sword to be very interesting and learned quite a bit while reading it.

Films of Fury: The Kung Fu Movie Book

Author: Ric Meyers
Publisher: Emery Books
ISBN: 9780979998942
Released: March 2011

Although personally I study traditional Okinawan karate-do, I am also interested in martial arts in general. I enjoy watching martial arts films, too, and some of the very best of those are specifically kung fu movies. And so when Ric Meyers’ work Films of Fury: The Kung Fu Movie Book, published by Emery Books in 2011, was offered through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewers program, I was very pleased when I was paired up to review the book. Meyers is an inductee of the World Martial Arts Hall of Fame for his contributions writing about Asian martial arts films and to the martial arts movie industry. In addition to numerous articles and reviews, he has so far written three major works on the subject: Martial Arts Movies: From Bruce Lee to the Ninjas in 1985, Great Martial Arts Movies: From Bruce Lee to Jackie Chan and More in 2001, and finally Films of Fury in 2011. (He was also a contributor to The Encyclopedia of Martial Arts Movies.) Films of Fury, in addition to being a stand alone book, is also a companion to the documentary Films of Fury: The Kung Fu Movie Movie which was also written by Meyers.

Films of Fury consists of an introduction, a preface, ten more or less thematic chapter exploring kung fu films, actors, directors, and choreographers, a list of Meyers’ personal top one hundred kung fu films up to 2010, and an index. The first chapter, “Kung Foundation,” gives a basic overview and history of kung fu and kung fu films. From there Meyers examines Bruce Lee in “The King of Kung Fu,” the films of the Shaw Brothers studio (many of which have only recently made their way to Western shores legitimately) in “The Shaw Standard” and Jackie Chan in “The Clown Prince of Kung Fu.” “The Clown Prince’s Court” looks at other influential players active around the same time as Chan. The changing roles of women in kung fu films is explored in “Women Wushu Warriors,” Jet Li’s career is featured in “Jet Powered” and the films of John Woo and the rise of firearms in movies are the focus of “Gun Fu.” “Kung FU.S.A” examines the (mostly) sorry state of kung fu films in the U.S. Finally, there is “Kung Futures” in which Meyers looks at where kung fu films are heading and who we should pin our hopes on to be the next “greats.”

The chapters of Films of Fury are arranged in a vaguely chronological order but as each one generally focuses on a particular subject rather than a specific time period there is plenty of overlap in history. It’s somewhat difficult to establish a comprehensive timeline because of this, but overall I liked the arrangement by topic. Films of Fury seems to be written with a Western audience in mind which compounds the problem of discussing the history of kung fu cinema chronologically since many of the films were released abroad at different times and under different titles. Occasionally, Meyers’ writing seems to devolve into a listing of titles and names (which are unfortunately not used consistently throughout the book) and sometimes he’ll talk a bout a specific title at length without explicitly establishing why it is important to do so, but for the most part the book is interesting and engaging.

Although it is obvious that Meyers is quite knowledgeable about kung fu movies, Films of Fury is far from a scholarly work on the subject and serves more as a pop history. Meyers writing style is extremely informal which makes the book more approachable but is also cringe worthy due to bad puns and jokes (see the chapter titles for some examples) as well awkward grammar and structure. I also had hoped for better reference materials. Despite there being a “selected index,” there are no coherent listings of the films or people mentioned which makes navigating and finding specific information in Films of Fury troublesome. However, Meyers enthusiasm and passion for kung fu movies is readily apparent as well as contagious. After reading Films of Fury, I wanted nothing more than to sit around and experience all the martial arts films discussed for myself.

Thank you to Emery Books for providing a copy of Films of Fury for review.

Monkey Business: New Writing from Japan, Volume 1

Editors: Motoyuki Shibata and Ted Goossen
Publisher: A Public Space
ISSN: 2159-7138
Released: May 2011

Monkey Business is a Japanese literary journal edited by Motoyuki Shibata that was founded in 2008. The journal focuses on contemporary literature from Japan and includes the occasional older work as well. In Japan, Monkey Business is published more or less quarterly. The English edition of the journal, Monkey Business: New Writing from Japan (sometimes seen refereed to as New Voices from Japan), debuted in 2011 and is planned to be an annual publication. Once again, Shibata is acting as the editor along with the aid of Ted Goossen. It is published by A Public Space and is supported by the Nippon Foundation. The first volume selects, collects, and translates fourteen contributions from the first ten issues of the Japanese edition, published between spring 2008 and summer 2010. Roland Kelts, author of Japanamerica is one of the contributing editors of the English edition and has been publicizing the Monkey Business, which is how I found out about the journal.

After a very brief introduction by the editors, the first volume of the English edition of Monkey Business opens with a short story translated by Michael Emmerich by Hideo Furukawa called “Monsters.” It’s a disconcerting, manic, and vaguely apocalyptic narrative punctuated by sections akin to poetry. Other poems in the volume include “The Sleep Division” by Mina Ishikawa, “Interviews with the Heroes, or Is Baseball Just for Fun?” by Inuo Taguchi, “When Monkeys Sing” by Masayo Koike, “Monkey Tanka” by Shion Mizuhara, and “Monkey Haiku” by Minoru Ozawa, all translated by Ted Goossen. Poetry is notoriously difficult to translate and I feel Goossen has done an excellent job. Although they all have their merits, the most accessible poem and the one I was most fond of was Taguchi’s and I’m not even particularly enamored with baseball.

I would argue that the centerpiece of the first volume of Monkey Business, due to length, location, and name recognition for English language audiences, is “Pursuing ‘Growth’,” an interview with Haruki Murakami conducted by Hideo Furukawa in December 2008 and translated by Goossen. I actually haven’t read any of Murakami’s works yet (scandalous, I know!), but I still found the interview fascinating. There are two collections of mini-stories and vignettes included in the first volume: “People from My Neighborhood” by Hiromi Kawakami (translated by Goossen) is delightfully quirky and nostalgic while Barry Yourgrau’s “Song, the Old Way, and Bougainvillea” is gritty, dark, and bloody. I was happy to discover manga within the pages of Monkey Business as well—”A Country Doctor” by the Brother and Sister Nishioka, or Nishioka Kyōdai, which is based on a story by Franz Kafka translated by J. A. Underwood.

Short stories in this volume of Monkey Business include “Closet LLB” by Kōji Uno (translated by Jay Rubin), “The Tale of the House of Physics” by Yōko Ogawa (translated by Goossen), and what is probably my favorite contribution in the entire volume, “Sandy’s Lament” written by Atsushi Nakajima and translated by M. Cody Poulton. The story is based on the Chinese classic Journey to the West and made me smile the entire time I was reading it. Apparently it is part of cycle by Nakajima, so I really hope to see more of them in included in future volumes of Monkey Business. This issue ends with “The Forbidden Diary,” excerpts from a fictional, but autobiographically influenced, diary by Sachiko Kishimoto, also translated by Goossen.

What I like best about the inaugural issue of Monkey Business is the wide variety of contributions selected. I love that manga, short fiction, poetry, and interviews can all take their place next to one another. I also greatly appreciated the list of contributors at the end which provides a brief introduction to the original creators, editors, and translators. Each entry generally includes mention of other works of theirs that are available in English. I found this section particularly valuable since I didn’t initially recognize many of the contributors by name and am definitely interested in pursuing more of their work. Overall, I was very pleased with the first volume of Monkey Business and I hope it does well enough that we’ll see another volume issued in 2012 and more volumes after that. I wouldn’t hesitate at all to recommend Monkey Business to someone interested in contemporary and experimental Japanese literature. It introduced me to creators I might not have come across otherwise and I am very glad for it.

Yokai Attack!: The Japanese Monster Survival Guide

Author: Hiroko Yoda and Matt Alt
Illustrator: Tatsuya Morino

Publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9784770030702
Released: October 2008

I’m not sure why I passed over Yokai Attack!: The Japanese Monster Survival Guide when it was first published by Kodansha International in 2008. Perhaps it got lost in the slew of zombie materials coming out at the time. The book is written by the wife and husband team of Hiroko Yoda and Matt Alt, who have worked on several other projects together, and is illustrated by Tatsuya Morino. Fortunately, Yokai Attack! was recently brought to my attention again. And since I have become increasingly interested in Japanese folklore and legends, it made sense for me to pick up a copy. I’m particularly interested in yokai—traditional Japanese supernatural creatures—because I frequently come across references to them in the books and manga that I read, the videos I watch, the games I play, and even at my dōjō. Yokai seem to be everywhere. The information on yokai readily available in English is somewhat limited, and I believe Yokai Attack! may actually be one of the first guides of its kind.

Yokai Attack! provides detailed information about forty-six different yokai. However, there are only forty-two separate entries because closely related yokai are addressed together. Instead of being arranged alphabetically, the guide is arranged thematically, grouping the yokai into “Ferocious Fiends,” “Gruesome Gourmets,” “Annoying Neighbors,” “The Sexy and Slimy,” and “The Wimps.” (There is also an alphabetical index of the yokai covered towards the end of the book.) Each entry provides brief details about a yokai’s name, appearance, where it is likely to be found, and how prevalent the creature is. Each entry is also fully illustrated and many include reproductions of Sekien Toriyama’s (1712-1788) traditional woodblock prints in addition to Morino’s modern interpretations. More information is given in depth regarding a yokai’s claim to fame, various stories and trivia, how a typical encounter plays out and how you might survive or at least minimize the damage incurred. Unfortunately, quite often the answer is “Sorry, you’re screwed.”

Although Yokai Attack! is extremely informative, it is not particularly academic or definitive, instead relaying facts and trivia about the various yokai that could be considered common knowledge in Japan. It is also presented in a very relaxed manner. The writing style is very informal and while some readers might find it annoying, overall it makes Yokai Attack! very approachable. The book’s design and layout are colorful and include an eclectic mix of images and reproductions. Unfortunately, the color pages are abruptly dropped for the last quarter or so of the book. Personally, I would have preferred a consistent page design throughout and was sad to see the color pages go. But really, I was primarily reading Yokai Attack! for the information anyway; the entertaining layout was simply an added bonus.

I am very glad I finally got around to picking up Yokai Attack! I found it very informative and enjoyable to read. In addition to some of the yokai I was already vaguely familiar with—like the kitsune, tanuki, kappa, and tengu—Yokai Attack! also covers plenty of yokai that I had never even heard of before and many which I have seen references to elsewhere but knew very little about. Yoda and Alt also include more contemporary yokai in the book along with the more traditional ones. At the end of the book they have provided a section devoted to other yokai resources. They list films featuring yokai, note several online resources available, and include a bibliography of Japanese and English language print materials. Yokai Attack! really is a fantastic resource with a ton of great information presented in a very accessible way. It’s certainly one of the best introductions to yokai that I’ve come across. While it may not be comprehensive, it is a wonderful place to start learning about yokai.

Hiroshima: The Autobiography of Barefoot Gen

Author: Keiji Nakazawa
Translator: Richard H. Minear
U.S. Publisher: Rowman & Littlefield
ISBN: 9781442207479
Released: November 2010
Original release: 1995

I first learned about Keiji Nakazawa’s autobiography Hiroshima: The Autobiography of Barefoot Gen while preparing for the February 2011 Manga Moveable Feast focusing on Nakazawa’s semi-autobiographical manga series Barefoot Gen. Although I hadn’t read the manga yet, I was already familiar with Barefoot Gen but had no idea that Nakazawa had also written an official autobiography as well. For various reasons, I decided to read it before delving into the manga. According to the introduction by the book’s editor and translator Richard H. Minear, Nakazawa actually wrote two versions of his autobiography—the first was published in 1987 which was later revised and reissued as a second edition in 1995. It is the autobiography from 1995, written fifty years after the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, that forms the basis of the English edition released by Rowman & Littlefield in 2010 as part of their Asian Voices series.

On the morning of August 6, 1945, the first atomic bomb used as a weapon against a human population was detonated over the city of Hiroshima, Japan. Keiji Nakazawa was a grade-schooler at the time and survived only because he happened to be standing on the opposite side of a thick concrete wall from the blast. His father, sister, and younger brother were killed in the explosion and resulting firestorm. He fortunately found his pregnant mother alive and his two older brothers were away from the city at the time. Even long after the bombing, life was extremely difficult for the survivors. Years later, Nakazawa left for Tokyo, hoping to leave Hiroshima and its tragedy behind. But he eventually took his experiences and used them to create the manga Barefoot Gen, speaking out against nuclear weapons and war.

In addition to the translation of Nakazawa’s autobiography and the illustrations that he created for it, the English edition of the book also includes five excerpts from the Barefoot Gen manga as well as a translation of part of an interview that was conducted in 2007 between Nakazawa and the president of the Hiroshima Peace Institute, Motofumi Asai. There is also a brief index and a useful introduction by the editor. Almost all of the Japanese terms except for manga and anime have been translated, including the titles of movies and magazines. Since I’m so used to hearing and seeing it otherwise, I found it odd to see Shōnen Jump referred to as Boys’ Jump, but I do tend to agree with how Minear chose to translate the book since it makes the autobiography more accessible for readers unfamiliar with Japanese culture and language. He explains his translating and editing decisions in his introduction and also provides a detailed explanation of some of the issues involved when translating and “flipping” manga.

Hiroshima is very aptly subtitled The Autobiography of Barefoot Gen. Not only does it serve as an account of the bombing of Hiroshima as well as the autobiography of Nakazawa, who is Gen, the book also serves as an origin story of the Barefoot Gen manga and its creation. While the autobiography will be of particular interest to people who are already familiar with Nakazawa and Barefoot Gen, the book is also a very accessible and very personal survivor’s account of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. Nakazawa also addresses the terrible living conditions caused by the war before and after the dropping of the bomb and the struggles and discrimination that the atomic bomb survivors and their descendants faced even decades later. Obviously, because it is such an intensely personal autobiography, there is a certain amount of bias to be expected, but for the most part I don’t think Nakazawa is unfair. Hiroshima: The Autobiography of Barefoot Gen is well worth reading.