DISPATCH FROM JAPAN

Spending my days adjacent to the travel industry, talking with readers about their recent and future trips, I've spent a lot of time thinking about how popular Japan has grown as a destination. The rumors are true: our "trip" to Japan saw twice the travelers as recent jaunts to Mexico and Portugal. To be fair, we only visited the country through its rich literary tradition as part of our Word Travel Book Club, but the response was amazing! Thank you for joining us! We had a such a great discussion that it made me want to start a Japanese-specific book club with a little more structure. I love the globe-hopping nature and loose format of our current gatherings, but maybe there is space for another club down the line... I'd love to hear your thoughts. 

I didn't take many notes, but I think I remembered most of what people had read for this month (though I know I forgot one of two Dazai titles!). They were:

The Makioka Sisters by Junichiro Tanizaki
In Praise of Shadows by Junichiro Tanizaki
Kappa by Ryunosuke Akutagawa
Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata
The Factory by Hiroko Oyamada
The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa
Confessions of a Mask by Yukio Mishima
The Sound of Waves by Yukio Mishima
The Setting Sun by Osamu Dazai
Territory of Light by Yuko Tsushima
Sweet Bean Paste by Durian Sukegawa
The Full Moon Coffee Shop by Mai Mochizuki
The Third Love by Hiromi Kawakami
Lost Souls Meet Under a Full Moon by Mizuki Tsujimura
Butter
by Asako Yuzuki
Water, Wood, and Wild Things by Hannah Kirshner

And I read a lot of Japanese novels this year in preparation for my actual trip to Japan in October. So for the book club, I thought it would be interesting to read two nonfiction books that look a little more closely at international publishing in translation:

Who We're Reading When We're Reading Murakami by David Karashima

An oral history of Haruki Murakami's early publishing career, sharing the reflections of the translators, editors, and publishers who introduced his work to English-language readers. A fascinating look at how works in-translation find an audience (hint: a very active process and not just a matter of luck).

Fifty Sounds by Polly Barton 

A memoir by a British translator of Japanese fiction, documenting her Japanese-learning journey and her growth as a translator. The book is structured around 50 Japanese "mimetic words" — evocative phrases important to Japanese language — and the context in which she learned them. A great read to complicate the dreamy experience of being a tourist, Barton really illuminates all of the challenges and frustrations of learning another language and another culture with it.

So with that list of books, what did we discuss?

We talked a lot about the difference between older Japanese writing (the fatalistic struggle of post-WWII novelists to process their nation's losses) and contemporary fiction (markedly surreal and darkly comic). We talked about what gets lost in translation (N.B. Japanese publishers don't edit as heavily as English-language editors, and many Japanese authors are dramatically abridged in their translations), and what stands out tonally to American readers. Everyone noted a different sense (or sometimes a lack) of plot and resolution, which feels like it is reflected in some of the very structures of Japanese as a language (see below for more on that quietude). 

Interestingly, no one in our group read any Murakami — the literary gorilla of contemporary Japanese fiction — for this gathering. Though we did have an interesting conversation about whether his writing has or hasn't aged well and whether he'll stay a part of the "canon." For a few of us, his books were our intro to Japanese (and sometimes international) lit, but our teenage enthusiasm for his writing has waned with time and exposure to more writers. On the subject of canon: Japanese literature has shifted over the years from boasting that the world's first novel was written by a woman, to basically being the domain of male writers, to now seeing an enormous boom of women authors (at least in translation today). And, of course, we talked about "healing fiction." Bookmark that for a calming respite from today's political climate.

Want to go further in your explorations? We always carry a deep stock of books from Japan, regularly bringing in new releases and newly re-issued classics. Take a look online or come in for a recommendation. And below, you'll find a few links to things that have been on my mind since our meet-up.  

The Art of Healing Fiction by TA Morton in World Literature Today

In Japan, the genre is referred to as Iyashikei (癒し系), and in Korea, K-healing. Most of these novels follow a similar pattern: they are quiet, reflective stories that end hopefully. Often set in and around coffee shops, laundromats, and bookshops, they can often be laced with magical realism, talking cats, time travel, and memories carrying hidden messages.

I'm low-key obsessed with this animated show that drops a children's cartoon bear in as the lazy roommate of an anxious millennial office-worker. Feels like it splits the difference between the off-kilter writing from Sayaka Murata and the cozy comforts of healing fiction.

Pico Iyer on the Infinite Silences of Japan in Literary Hub

"Japan’s foundational novel, The Tale of Genji, is notoriously hard to translate, because proper names are sometimes avoided, the subject of a sentence changes halfway through and speakers are seldom indicated. As the scholar of Japan Ivan Morris writes, the hard-and-fast divisions we like to maintain—between past and present, question and statement, singular and plural, male and female—don’t apply. 'Sometimes it is not even clear whether the sentence is positive or negative.'"

Perfect Days, dir. Wim Wenders, 2024

The movie everyone recommends right now. Utterly charming slice-of-life Tokyo through the days of a public restroom cleaner.


Tokyo-Ga, dir. Wim Wenders, 1985

Or, go back four decades to watch Wenders' beautiful documentary homage to his cinematic idol, Yasujiro Ozu.

Tokyo Story, dir. Yasujiro Ozu, 1953

Definitely make a point to watch Ozu's masterpiece, a film about an older couple who travel from their rural home to visit their two adult children in Tokyo.

And maybe close out with a playlist of some smooth City Pop -- like disco and funk blended with 60s kitsch and the edges rounded off. Breezy rhythms feel like a vibe-y lounge on a beach. Kick back and start reading something for January's club...

 

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