Writing the Love of Boys: Origins of Bishōnen Culture in Modernist Japanese Literature

Writing the Love of BoysAuthor: Jeffrey Angles
Publisher: University of Minnesota Press
ISBN: 9780816669707
Released: February 2011

I’ve recently become rather enamoured with Edogawa Rampo and his writings which is how I happened to come across Jeffrey Angles’ Writing the Love of Boys: Origins of Bishōnen Culture in Modernist Japanese Literature. Published by the University of Minnesota Press in 2011, the volume is an extension of Angles’ 2004 PhD dissertation “Writing the Love of Boys: Representations of Male-Male Desire in the Literature of Murayama Kaita and Edogawa Rampo.” Angles is currently an associate professor of Japanese literature, language, and translation at Western Michigan University. His primary research interests include translation, modern Japanese poetry, and romance and sexuality in Japanese literature, and especially the portrayal of same-sex desire. All of these subjects are at least touched upon if not thoroughly explored in Writing the Love of Boys. They are all topics that I am particularly interested in as well, so I was rather pleased to discover Writing the Love of Boys while searching for more information on Rampo and his works.

In Writing the Love of Boys, Angles examines the expression of same-sex desire, and specifically male-male desire, in Japanese literature during the late Taishō era (1912-1926) and early Shōwa period (1926-1989). In doing so he focuses on the work of three authors in particular: Murayama Kaita (1896-1919), who was also a poet and a painter; Edogawa Rampo (1894-1965), an incredibly influential writer of detective and mystery fiction among other things; and Inagaki Taruho (1900-1977), whose avant-garde work is noted as being particularly innovative. All three of these authors produced work that either incorporated or directly addressed male-male desire of both homosocial and homoerotic nature. Writing during a time in which attitudes towards sexuality in Japan were changing due to the influence of new medical and psychological approaches, Kaita, Rampo, and Taruho portrayed male-male desire in a way that was different from their immediate predecessors. Placing them within this historical and literary context, Angles also shows how their work would influence creators who followed them as well.

Another subject that is particularly important in Writing the Love of Boys is the erotic grotesque nonsense movement and fad of the 1920s and 1930s. Ero guro literature allowed its authors to explore the bizarre and the strange, including sexual desire that was considered by society to be perverse. However, although Kaita, Rampo, and Taruho were all involved in the rise of ero guro literature, Angles argues that their portrayal of male-male desire was frequently sympathetic and even subversive within the context of the genre which generally used sexuality for the purpose of titillation. Of the three authors that Angles focuses on in Writing the Love of Boys, it is Rampo who is the most well-known in English and who has had more of his work translated. Reading Angles’ analyses and translated excerpts of these three authors’ work, I can’t help but lament the fact that more of their writing isn’t currently available in English. But even though most of the works discussed in Writing the Love of Boys have yet to be released in translation, it is still interesting and valuable to learn about their place and importance within the literary and queer history of Japan.

For me, one of the most intriguing parts of Writing the Love of Boys was the literary lineage that Angles outlines, beginning with Kaita, who influenced Rampo, who in turn collaborated with Taruho, who was a direct inspiration to Takemiya Keiko, one of the creators whose work in the 1970s would lay the foundation for the entire boys’ love genre. In fact, much of the conclusion of Writing the Love of Boys is devoted to the lasting influence and legacies of Kaita, Rampo, and Taruho that can be seen in boys’ love manga. Angles credits Taruho as one of the authors who began developing an aesthetic of male-male desire for a female audience; several of his stories, including his debut, were published in magazines for women. This is one of the links that Angles uses to tie these three authors to the more recently developed genre of stories featuring male-male love primarily written for women by women. To some extent it does feel a little tangential to the work as a whole, and it was somewhat jarring to jump from the 1930s to the 1970s and beyond, but there is a legitimate connection. I found Writing the Love of Boys to be incredibly fascinating; it ended up addressing more of my interests than I initially realized it would—queer theory, ero guro, and even manga, in addition to many other topics.

Delavier’s Mixed Martial Arts Anatomy

Delavier's Mixed Martial Arts AnatomyAuthor: Frédéric Delavier and Michael Gundill
Illustrator: Frédéric Delavier

U.S. publisher: Human Kinetics
ISBN: 9781450463591
Released: October 2013
Original release: 2012

Delavier’s Mixed Martial Arts Anatomy was released by Human Kinetics in 2013. The volume is a translated and revised edition of Frédéric Delavier and Michael Gundill’s Musculation Pour le Fight et les Sports de Combat, originally published in France in 2012. Delavier and Gundill have collaborated with each other on many works focusing on strength training, bodybuilding, and anatomy, several of which have been released in English by Human Kinetics. I was particularly interested in Delavier’s Mixed Martial Arts Anatomy since I myself am a martial artist. I have had some cross-training in other styles (namely tai chi, aikido, and hung gar), but my primary focus in the martial arts has been on traditional Okinawan karate, specifically Shōrin-ryū and Shūdōkan, as well as kobujutsu. Even though I’m not currently active in mixed martial arts, I anticipated that Delavier’s Mixed Martial Arts Anatomy would still be applicable to my own martial arts training. I was very pleased when I was selected to receive a review copy of the work through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewers program.

After a short introduction that establishes why martial artists should pursue strength training, Delavier’s Mixed Martial Arts Anatomy is divided into three major parts: “Principles of Strength Training,” “Strength Training Exercises for Fighting,” and “Training Programs.” The first part covers the basics of strength training and how it can be applied by martial artists to complement their martial arts training. The section specifically focuses on techniques used to increase strength, power, and flexibility, to improve conditioning and endurance, and to prevent injury and support recovery. The strength training exercises are arranged by their practical applications: strengthening the neck, jaw, and core, improving punches, strikes, and kicks, and developing better grabs, pulls, chokes, and throws. The section devoted to training programs provides examples of basic, specialized, and customized strength training programs and circuits.

Delavier’s Mixed Martial Arts Anatomy could have just as easily, and perhaps more accurately, been called Strength Training for Martial Artists. The book outlines strength training principles, exercises, and programs that have been modified for use within any martial arts or combat sports context, and not just specifically in mixed martial arts. Traditional bodybuilding exercise have been modified to mimic fighting conditions to more effectively develop muscle strength and endurance for practical rather than simply aesthetic applications. There is also an emphasis on compound exercises over isolation exercises since martial arts require the use and engagement of the entire body instead of individual muscle groups. Delavier’s Mixed Martial Arts Anatomy focuses on five goals: increasing muscle mass and weight, increasing strength, increasing power, improving isometric endurance, and improving muscular endurance.

Fighters and martial artists who are just beginning to supplement their regular practice with strength training will benefit the most from Delavier’s Mixed Martial Arts Anatomy. However, those who are more experienced should also be able to find useful information and valuable recommendations in the volume. Delavier and Gundill do assume at least some basic familiarity with the use of weights, bands, and other equipment, but for the most part the book is suitable for beginners. All of the exercises described include variations which allow them to be adjusted to better suit a martial artist’s particular fighting style, body type, or current level of experience or strength. The risks and martial benefits of each exercise are also included which further helps to customize and tailor a program for a martial artist’s individual needs. Delavier’s Mixed Martial Arts Anatomy is a fantastic volume—accessible, well-organized, as well as practical. I know that my own training has already benefited from what I’ve learned by reading it.

Thank you to Human Kinetics for providing a copy of Delavier’s Mixed Martial Arts Anatomy for review.

The Nobility of Failure: Tragic Heroes in the History of Japan

The Nobility of FailureAuthor: Ivan Morris
Publisher: Kurodahan Press
ISBN: 9784902075502
Released: September 2013
Original release: 1975

In some ways, Ivan Morris’ The Nobility of Failure: Tragic Heroes in the History of Japan could be considered a companion of sorts to his earlier work The World of the Shining Prince: Court Life in Ancient Japan. While The World of the Shining Prince explores the beauty of court culture in Japan, The Nobility of Failure addresses the country’s more tragic history. Originally published in 1975, The Nobility of Failure has been out of print for years. Happily, Kurodahan Press was able to rerelease the volume in 2013 with a newly added preface by Juliet Winters Carpenter. Happier still, I was selected to receive a review copy of the new edition of The Nobility of Failure through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewers program. The Nobility of Failure is an important work that examines the cultural and historical background of some of the tragic heroes who continue to influence the modern Japanese psyche. I am very glad that I, and others, once again have the opportunity to read it.

While not unheard of in Western tradition, Japan has a particular, and some might call peculiar, predilection for the tragic or failed hero. They are admired for their sincerity and loyalty even when their causes were meet with failure and their goals could be considered traitorous. Above all else, those heroes adhered to their ideals, especially in the face of their own destruction. In The Nobility of Failure, Morris traces Japan’s tradition of the tragic hero back to the fourth century and the archetype of Prince Yamato Takeru. The following chapters explore the lives and influences of Japan’s legendary and historic failed heroes found throughout the centuries: Yorozu, Arima no Miko, Sugawara no Michizane, Minamoto no Yoshitsune, Kusunoki Masashige, Amakusa Shirō, Ōshio Heihachirō, and Saigō Takamori. The volume culminates in an examination of the World War II kamikaze fighters—an unprecedented development in modern warfare which for most countries would have been unimaginable.

One thing that I didn’t realize about The Nobility of Failure before reading the book was how much of an influence Yukio Mishima had on its creation. Morris and Mishima were friends and the book was at least in part written in order to put Mishima’s act of ritual suicide in 1970 into historical context. The volume is even dedicated to his memory. Since I happen to have a particular fascination with Mishima, I found this connection to be especially interesting. Many of the heroes who are the focus of The Nobility of Failure (tragic heroines are only mentioned in passing) were men that Mishima personally admired, but they are also generally recognized as important to Japan as a whole and are even considered to be inspirational figures to some. Japan’s tragic heroes carry immense psychological and cultural significance; their role in Japanese history was crucial to the development of Japan’s national character, perspective, and worldview.

The Nobility of Failure is an extremely illuminating volume. It’s readily clear that Morris put a tremendous amount of thought and research into the volume. In fact, the endnotes, bibliography, and index make up approximately a third of the books’ length. Morris draws upon both primary and secondary materials, including literature, poetry, and theatrical interpretations of the heroes’ stories found in kabuki and Noh. Using a combination of sources, excerpts, and retellings, Morris reveals both the mythic and legendary basis of Japan’s tragic heroes as well as their historical reality and how they have influenced Japan’s culture and psyche. This is particularly evident in the chapter about the kamikaze fighters in which Morris ties in everything that had previously been examined. Even though The Nobility of Failure was written nearly forty years ago, it is still a valuable and fascinating work. Morris’ compassionate analysis deserves to remain in print.

Thank you to Kurodahan Press for providing a copy of The Nobility of Failure for review.

Coffinman: The Journal of a Buddhist Mortician

CoffinmanAuthor: Shinmon Aoki
Translator: Wayne Yokoyama
U.S. publisher: Buddhist Education Center
Released: January 2002
Original release: 1993

Shinmon Aoki’s Coffinman: The Journal of a Buddhist Mortician was originally brought to my attention when I learned that Yōjirō Takita’s 2008 film Departures (which I love) was loosely based on the work. I came across the title again when I was looking into embalming practices in Japan. Embalmers are a rarity in a country where cremation soon after death is almost exclusively practiced. Instead, bodies are generally prepared for funeral by a nokanfu, or “coffinman.” Aoki’s autobiographical Coffinman was initially published in Japan in 1993. The Buddhist Education Center released the book in English in 2002 with a translation by Wayne Yokoyama. Also included in the volume is a foreword by Taitetsu Unno, the author of River of Fire, River of Water, a major work and introduction to Pure Land Buddhism in English.

Nearly thirty years before writing Coffinman, Shinmon Aoki pursued the unusual career more out of necessity than by choice when he and his family were facing bankruptcy. The profession, as well as others that deal with the dead, is looked down upon and even reviled by some, the taboo and impurity associated with death extending to those who make their living from it. After becoming a coffinman, Aoki lost friends and was shunned by family members. When his wife discovered what his new job entailed even she was incredibly upset by it. But Aoki provided an important and needed service to those left behind to grieve the loss of their loved ones as well as for the dead who had no one to mourn for them. Working so closely with corpses day after day put Aoki in a position to understand what death and life really means in both physical and spiritual contexts. It’s not happy work, but death is also not something to fear.

Coffinman is divided into three chapters but can also be seen as consisting of two parts. The first two chapters, “The Season of Sleet” and “What Dying Means” make up the first part of Coffinman. In them Aoki relates personal anecdotes and stories about his career as a coffinman—how he came to be employed, people’s reactions to him and the job, how working in an environment surrounded by death changed him and his way of thinking, and so on. He frequently uses poets and poetry as a way to express his thoughts to the reader. The third and longest chapter, “The Light and Life,” makes up the second half of the book. Although Aoki’s personal recollections can still be found in this section, the focus turns to the role of death in Shin Buddhism (the largest sect of Japanese Buddhism) from a layperson’s perspective.

Particularly when reading the second half of Coffinman it does help to have some basic understanding of Buddhism. However, it is not absolutely necessary as plenty of end notes are provided for guidance. Additionally, Aoki’s style of writing is very personable and approachable even for those who might not have a familiarity with Buddhism. Many of Aoki’s philosophical musings, such as those dealing with the relationship between religion and science or how society as a whole has come to view life and death, are not only applicable to Buddhist ways of thought. Although there is a strong sense of spirituality throughout the book, it is only the second half that focuses on the more religious aspects of the subject matter. As interesting as I found Aoki’s reflections on Buddhism, what appealed to me most about Coffinman were the more autobiographical elements of the work—the impact that becoming a coffinman had on his life and how that career fits into the culture of Japan.

The Way of Taiko

The Way of TaikoAuthor: Heidi Varian
Publisher: Stone Bridge
ISBN: 9781611720129
Released: September 2013
Original release: 2005

There are very few books available in English that are devoted to taiko—Japanese drums and drumming. In fact, there are only two that I know of: Heidi Varian’s The Way of Taiko and Shawn Bender’s Taiko Boom: Japanese Drumming in Place and Motion. Out of these two works, it was The Way of Taiko that first addressed the subject in depth. Originally published in 2005, by the time that I seriously started studying taiko a few years ago The Way of Taiko was already out of print and my dojo’s copy of the book was literally falling apart. And so, I was extremely pleased to learn that Stone Bridge Press was releasing a second edition of The Way of Taiko in 2013. In addition to Varian’s main text, the volume also includes an extensive glossary by David Leong and a foreword by Seiichi Tanaka—credited for introducing modern taiko to the United States.

After the prefatory material and introduction, The Way of Taiko is divided into three major sections which are then followed by the glossary and other resources for reference. The first part, “A Brief History of Taiko” is just that—a concise survey of the history of taiko drums and music from their mythological beginnings to their modern styles of performance. Notably, Varian addresses the place taiko holds in America as well as in Japan. The second section of The Way of Taiko, “Understanding Sounds and Movements,” takes a closer look at the drums themselves as well as other instruments and vocalizations used in taiko performance. Also explained in this section are some of the more visual elements of taiko, such as the players’ attire and movements. The main text of The Way of Taiko closes with “Training in the Way,” focusing on four major aspects of learning taiko: kokoro (spirit), waza (action), karada (body), and rei (etiquette).

For the most part, although updated and revised, the content of the second edition of The Way of Taiko is nearly identical to that of the first. What really makes the second edition stand out from the original printing is the increased values of production quality. The binding is much better and the colors are much sharper and more vibrant. Since the entire volume is in full-color, this really adds to the overall presentation of The Way of Taiko. The improved color is particularly welcomed for the dozens of photographs that are included in the volume exhibiting the power, dynamism, intensity, and beauty of taiko. Seiichi Tanaka’s San Francisco Taiko Dojo is predominantly represented in the photographs (Varian was associated with that dojo and it is the oldest taiko dojo in the United States), but other groups and soloists from both America and Japan are also featured. It is wonderful to be able to see the joy and spirit that the performers put into their art.

The Way of Taiko is a small but informative volume and very approachable, suited for those with a general interest in taiko as well as for those who are more actively involved in the art form. As a taiko player myself, I enjoyed learning more about its history, meaning, and form from a performance perspective. My dojo has a slightly different style and lineage than most of the groups discussed in The Way of Taiko, but I still found the book to be a very valuable resource. What will probably vary the most from school to school is the level of formality and the etiquette followed, but Varian describes the most proper forms so following her guidelines will aid in avoiding offense in most situations. What I probably appreciated most about The Way of Taiko was how many different aspects of taiko Varian addresses: its history and its future, its art and its science, and taiko’s total incorporation of mind, body, and spirit. The Way of Taiko is an excellent resource and I am very happy to see it back in print again.