By Rashaad Jorden (Yamagata-ken, 2008-10) for JQ magazine. A former head of the JETAA Philadelphia Sub-Chapter, Rashaad is a graduate of Leeds Beckett University with a master’s degree in responsible tourism management. For more on his life abroad and enthusiasm for taiko drumming, visit his blog at www.gettingpounded.wordpress.com.
“Sometimes, you have to travel a very great distance to find a home within yourself.”
That saying could certainly describe the journey of Leza Lowitz, a Californian who has worked extensively in Japan. She chronicles her path through several eventful periods—such as adolescence during the tumultuous early 1970s, her romance with a Japanese man named Shogo (whom she eventually weds), and her attempts to adopt in Japan in Here Comes the Sun: A Journey to Adoption in 8 Chakras, an autobiographical story that captures the ups and downs of Lowitz’s efforts to carve a niche in Japanese society.
As indicated by the subtitle of the book, Lowitz utilizes the influence of another culture to best integrate herself into Japanese society. But first, you might be asking… what’s a chakra? Derived from the Sanskrit root car (“to move”), a chakra represents a major wheel of energy in the human body, and each chakra contains a particular function. Chakras regulate, distribute and balance the energy and nerve functions of their locations.
Lowitz calls the chapters in Here Comes the Sun “chakras” and each one contains a certain theme. For example, the first chapter in the book is titled Muladhara, derived from the Sanskrit word for “root” or “support.” Some chapters in Here Comes the Sun deal directly with the yoga practices that balance a chakra—Lowitz tells us when the aforementioned primary chakra is balanced, you’ll feel stable and secure while being in a better position to succeed.
JQ Magazine: Book Review — ‘Kendo: Culture of the Sword’
By Rashaad Jorden (Yamagata-ken, 2008-10) for JQ magazine. A former head of the JETAA Philadelphia Sub-Chapter, Rashaad is a graduate of Leeds Beckett University with a master’s degree in responsible tourism management. For more on his life abroad and enthusiasm for taiko drumming, visit his blog at www.gettingpounded.wordpress.com.
At pep rallies for my school’s sports clubs during my time on JET, I occasionally saw students decked in armor and masks while gripping swords. They were obviously members of the kendo club, but I had no idea what they actually did (other than participate in a martial art I knew nothing about). I was excited to start reading Kendo: Culture of the Sword so I could be properly introduced to the sport.
Written by Alexander C. Bennett, a New Zealander who has served as a professor at Kansai University and the coach of his country’s national kendo team, the book illustrates how kendo has evolved throughout the years from, among other things, a form of military training to a sport in which world championships are conducted every three years. More importantly, Kendo would teach me what happens in the sport.
Indeed, my initial expectations for the book were satisfied early when Bennett explained the “complex” rules and methods of kendo (even before mentioning the rules, he does us a gigantic favor by presenting the various names for Japanese swordmanship throughout the years—kenjutsu was actually the term long used to refer to the martial art). He also shines when he includes images of the sport’s equipment as well as a table detailing how you score a point. Bennett also provides fascinating information about the state of women in kendo: although there are references to women doing kendo that date back to early modern Japan, women only largely started practicing the sport after World War II (girls were traditionally taught naginata or kyūdō instead of kendo). In addition, even though women compete nationally and internationally in championship competitions, very few women hold positions of power in kendo education at a regional or national level.
JQ Magazine: Book Review — ‘Yurei: The Japanese Ghost’
By Julio Perez Jr. (Kyoto-shi, 2011-13) for JQ magazine. A bibliophile, writer, translator, and graduate from Columbia University, Julio is currently working at JTB’s New Jersey office while seeking opportunities with publications in New York. Follow his enthusiasm for Japan, literature, and board gaming on his blog and Twitter @brittlejules.
Do not read this review.
If you are foolish enough to read this review to the end…after seven days, you will be followed by a lingering spirit which will slowly, but unrelentingly, press more and more of its weight upon your shoulders. The weight will build to an unbearable breaking point, leaving you weak and overwhelmed by the scent of rotting flesh, driving your mind to unknowable depths of madness and despair. You can avoid this terrible fate by sharing this book review via the social media outlet of your choice or by purchasing Yurei: the Japanese Ghost, a new and excellent nonfiction effort by JET alum Zack Davisson (Nara-ken, 2001-04; Osaka-shi, 2004-06).
No doubt you’ve seen or heard of such films as The Ring and The Grudge, which have served as ambassadors of Japan’s very rich ghost culture (not to mention Halloween staples), but it is likely that there are aspects of these Japanese movies that you may have not been able to appreciate on some level. This book’s purpose is to fill in those gaps and fascinate you with an expertly catalogued evolution of ghost stories in Japan, and how pervasive they remain in pop culture to this day.
What exactly is a yūrei and why is it different from a Western ghost? What’s with the white face and long black hair? Why water? What drives the yūrei to do what it does? These questions and more are answered in this book. In the author’s words, “The goal of this book: to provide this understanding, to allow a clearer insight not only into the popular products of Japan but also the history and culture from which they sprang.” Yurei: The Japanese Ghost is a guided tour of the yūrei, from their appearance, to the rules they obey, to the traditions behind these characteristics. Davisson achieves this goal through the use of highly enjoyable primary choices and sharing the fruits of much academic research.
JQ Magazine: Book Review — ‘Mashi’
By Rashaad Jorden (Yamagata-ken, 2008-10) for JQ magazine. A former head of the JETAA Philadelphia Sub-Chapter, Rashaad is a graduate of Leeds Beckett University with a master’s degree in responsible tourism management. For more on his life abroad and enthusiasm for taiko drumming, visit his blog at www.gettingpounded.wordpress.com.
During your JET experience, you probably heard about Japanese baseball icons such as Ichiro, Daisuke Matsuzaka, Hideki Matsui and Yu Darvish excelling in Major League Baseball. However, well before all of them were instilling pride in their countrymen through their feats on American diamonds, one southpaw from rural Yamanashi Prefecture was setting the big leagues on fire.
Baseball historian Robert K. Fitts introduces fans of the sport to Masanori Murakami in Mashi: The Unfulfilled Baseball Dreams of Masanori Murakami, the First Japanese Major Leaguer. The biography documents how Murakami went from a run-of-the mill relief pitcher for the Nankai Hawks to a major contributor to the San Francisco Giants in the mid-1960s that nearly punched a ticket to the World Series—all while being the subject of a fierce tug-of-war between the two organizations.
Piercing together information he obtained from interviews with Murakami, the pitcher’s close friends and experts on Japanese baseball, Kitts explores Murakami’s improbable journey to baseball stardom. Murakami was actually uninterested in baseball as a child and when he did develop a deep love for the sport, his father Kiyoshi objected to his son’s new passion. But Kiyoshi relented when he realized his son could earn a scholarship to an elite Tokyo-area high school.
Despite being a high school starter, a pro career was really not on the cards for Murakami, as his main focus was on attending college (and possibly pitching at that level). However, his success at Hosei II High School made him an attractive pro prospect and representatives from several NPB (Nippon Professional Baseball) teams offered him contracts. One of those teams was the Nankai Hawks, and they offered him something more than solely the opportunity to make a lot of money: the possibility of going to the United States to improve his craft, an idea that intrigued him.
JQ Magazine: Book Review — ‘Marathon Japan’
By Rashaad Jorden (Yamagata-ken, 2008-10) for JQ magazine. A former head of the JETAA Philadelphia Sub-Chapter, Rashaad graduated from Leeds Beckett University with a Master’s degree in Responsible Tourism Management (for more on his life in the U.K., visit his blog at www.gettingpounded.wordpress.com). While in Japan, Rashaad completed the 2010 Tokyo Marathon, ran two half marathons in Yamagata Prefecture, was a part of an ekiden club, and finished fourth in the 2009 Ishidan Marathon (a race up the steps of Mount Haguro).
Hopefully, your JET experience included you busting out your running shoes and joining your prefecture (or village) in a road race. It did for me on several occasions. But if you never got around to working up a sweat over 10 kilometers (or maybe even 21), you might remember your school being enthralled by its annual ekiden, or frequently seeing races televised on Sunday mornings.
So why have such events become an integral part of Japanese sporting culture? Thomas R.H. Havens examines why in Marathon Japan, the first comprehensive English-language book about the history of marathons and ekiden in the country.
Long before Kenya emerged as the world’s elite marathon nation, Japan could make a serious claim to producing the world’s best at 42.195 km. Marathon Japan illustrates the periods when Japanese marathoners dished out most of the world’s fastest times—such as the 1930s (In 1934, nine of the world’s ten fastest times were run by Japanese), the 1960s (1965 alone saw the Japanese record fifteen of the world’s top twenty marathon times), and the 1980s (during which Toshihiko Seko won ten of the fifteen marathons he completed in). And to top it off on the women’s side, in 2004, three Japanese finished among the world’s top eight marathoners.
JQ Magazine: Book Review — ‘Monkey Business Volume 5’
By Brett Rawson (Akita-ken, 2007-09) for JQ magazine. Brett is a writer, translator, and Ramen Runner. He has an MFA in Creative Writing Non-Fiction from The New School, and his writing has appeared in Narratively and Nowhere magazine. He is also co-founder of the quarterly publication The Seventh Wave and founder of Handwritten, a place in space for pen and paper.
After reading Monkey Business Volume 5, the image of a blender might pop into your mind. Perhaps this is because it is almost summer and you have recently begun making smoothies in the early morning. Or perhaps this is because you came across the description Monkey Business as genre-defying, which made you think of cross-genre, blending boundaries, and thereafter, the physical image of the object itself: the blender.
But most likely, this is because you read the opening vignette to Monkey Business, “Photographs Are Images,” by rising Japanese writer Aoko Matsuda, which ends as such:
Everything you’ve read up to this point has been images. […] These strings of letters are images. These chains of words are images. Stories are images. The story you’re reading this very minute is an image.
Carefully selected as the opener to Volume 5, this year’s Monkey Business is all about ways of seeing, and perceiving, images and the imagination, and objects and subjects.
JQ Magazine: Book Review — ‘Gon, the Little Fox’
By Rashaad Jorden (Yamagata-ken, 2008-10) for JQ magazine. A former head of the JETAA Philadelphia Sub-Chapter, Rashaad is a graduate of Leeds Beckett University with a master’s degree in responsible tourism management. For more on his life abroad and enthusiasm for taiko drumming, visit his blog at www.gettingpounded.wordpress.com.
You probably remember reading some of Aesop’s Fables—such as “The Tortoise and the Hare” and “The Boy Who Cried Wolf”—during your childhood. Or more importantly, the lessons those fables are supposed to teach.
Likewise, your students in Japan likely read similar tales, and one of them might have been Gon, the Little Fox. Written by the legendary children’s book author Nankichi Niimi (1913-1943) when he was just seventeen years old, the story brings to life a little rascal who never passes up a chance to cause havoc, like setting fire to rapeseed husks held out in the sun, to dry to stealing a farmer’s cayenne peppers.
However, Gon realizes he’s gone too far when he kills an eel intended to be eaten by the ailing mother of a villager named Hyoju. To atone for his egregious misdeed, Gon repeatedly gathers, among other objects, mushrooms and chestnuts to leave at Hyoju’s house. But Gon’s attempts at forgiveness are never acknowledged and the story ends tragically. (Premature deaths were an unfortunate aspect of Niimi’s life; his mother passed away when he was four and he himself died when he was twenty-nine.)
JQ Magazine: Book Review — ‘Blade’s Edge’
By Rashaad Jorden (Yamagata-ken, 2008-10) for JQ magazine. A former head of the JETAA Philadelphia Sub-Chapter, Rashaad is a graduate of Leeds Beckett University with a master’s degree in responsible tourism management. For more on his life abroad and enthusiasm for taiko drumming, visit his blog at www.gettingpounded.wordpress.com.
A lot of people (former JETs included) probably feel a lot of things take place in Japan because “that’s the way they have always been.”
So it’s not surprising that mindset would permeate throughout a fictionalized version of the country. Virginia McClain takes readers through such a place in her new novel, Blade’s Edge. Although Japan is blessed with a ridiculously long and rich history that many of us are somewhat aware of, 12th century Japan is probably a complete mystery to even most Japanophiles, but that shouldn’t stop us from imagining what it would have been like. Fortunately, McClain lets her creative and imaginary juices flow, providing readers with a glimpse of a fantasy Japan she created, inspired by her experiences living in Yamagata Prefecture and learning about the country’s history and culture.
The main characters of Blade’s Edge are two young girls named Mishi and Taka. They both reside in Gensokai, the kingdom that serves as the story’s setting (the word “Gensokai”—created from the Japanese terms for element and world—was actually coined for the purpose of the story) in addition to being a territory ruled for more than a thousand years by the Kisōshi, an elite group of warriors…who happen to be all-male.
JQ Magazine: Book Review — ‘Dreaming Spies’
Are detective stories your thing? What about something involving an iconic figure of literature, ninjas, and Japan? Eden Law (Fukushima-ken, 2010-11) of JETAA New South Wales reviews the new mystery novel Dreaming Spies by Laurie R. King, the latest in her Mary Russell-Sherlock Holmes series, which is partially set in Japan and delves into Japanese culture quite a bit.
Picking up another person’s work is never easy, especially if you’re continuing a series of stories long after the original, canonical work ended, and in the time since then has become so popular and well-known that it forms part of modern pop culture. This practice is nothing new and is constantly ongoing—after all, witness the prevalence and popularity (or notoriety?) of fan fiction.
A few years back, a mash-up of high and low culture saw the creation of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, which kicked off a whole slew of other entries such as Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters and Android Karenina…which shows that one way of resurrecting (pun fully intended) a story would be in the vein of a parody. However, rather than an attempt to create something interestingly imaginative (for example, repositioning the Bennet girls from helpless female chattel to arse-kicking women warriors), this genre is more cynically derivative and an attempt to cash into the zeitgeist of the lurching undead—Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, for example, will very soon be out in cinemas. Yay?
I haven’t read any of the other mash-up novels, so Dreaming Spies will be the first I’ve tackled of this growing (sub?)genre. Dreaming Spies isn’t a parody by any means, and its legendary figure of choice is one Sherlock Holmes, although the main master sleuth character here is Mary Russell, who in this story universe is the young wife of a decidedly older Holmes. Probably a wise choice, as tackling a character like Holmes would be like dating someone that just come out of a long-term relationship (i.e., someone that comes with a whole lot of baggage).
JQ Magazine: Book Review — ‘Halfway Home: Drawing My Way Through Japan’
By Rashaad Jorden (Yamagata-ken, 2008-10) for JQ magazine. A former head of the JETAA Philadelphia Sub-Chapter, Rashaad is a graduate of Leeds Beckett University with a master’s degree in responsible tourism management. For more on his life abroad and enthusiasm for taiko drumming, visit his blog at www.gettingpounded.wordpress.com.
You may remember being treated to “What I did during my summer vacation” tales in elementary school. Well, Christine Mari Inzer spent a memorable summer vacation visiting family in Japan and she documents those travels in a largely visual journey titled Halfway Home: Drawing My Way Through Japan.
Halfway Home—so-titled because Inzer, the daughter of a Japanese mother and American father, describes herself as being half at home in the United States and half at home in Japan—summarizes her travels through a collection of photos, illustrations (all self-drawn), and anecdotes. Geared toward young adults (the author is currently a high school senior in Connecticut), Inzer details the ups and downs of travel while humorously detailing some moments of aggravation, such as her frustration with the shyness of Japanese boys.
For young people interested in eventually visiting Japan, Halfway Home provides an introduction to several of the country’s landmarks (the Daibustu in Nara, Kinkaku-ji, in Kyoto, etc.), cultural aspects, and quirks (such as the ubiquity of vending machines). Through reading her travelogue, Inzer comes across as a writer who would make an excellent travel blogger, as she gives prospective visitors to Japan fascinating tidbits about the country’s culture and attractions.
While the journal might have been enhanced a bit with the inclusion of a couple of other aspects of Japanese culture (if Inzer spent a summer in Japan, you would think she surely had to have experienced a hanabi taikai), you don’t have to be a teen to enjoy Halfway Home. Reading about her journey through Japan will surely evoke natsukashii moments for anyone who has spent a lot of time in the country.
Visit Christine’s homepage at http://christinemari.com. For more JQ magazine book reviews, click here.
JQ Magazine: Manga Review — ‘Showa 1944-1953: A History of Japan’
By Julio Perez Jr. (Kyoto-shi, 2011-13) for JQ magazine. A bibliophile, writer, translator, and graduate from Columbia University, Julio is currently working at Ishikawa Prefecture’s New York office while seeking opportunities with publications in New York. Follow his enthusiasm for Japan, literature, and comic books on his blog and Twitter @brittlejules.
Showa 1944-1953: A History of Japan is the third volume in a four-part manga history of the Showa period by eminent manga artist Shigeru Mizuki. (If you’re new to this series, check out JQ’s reviews of the first and second volumes here.)
Since I have already sung the praises of Mizuki’s excellent blending of realistic and comical art and storytelling as well as the top-notch translation by JET alum (and JQ interviewee) Zack Davisson (Nara-ken, 2001-04; Osaka-shi, 2004-06), I have decided to focus this review more on unpacking some of the contents of volume three and providing you with additional resources to look into if you wish to expand your knowledge about any of the topics that appear in the manga, including several wartime tragedies and the postwar occupation of Japan by the Allied Forces.
This volume focuses primarily on the grim latter years of World War II in the Pacific Theater. Despite the fact that Japan’s resources are running far past thin, the government and military persisted in continuing the conflict. This manga puts the spotlight on the plight of soldiers who have become the least important resource to the Japanese government, “Human life is the least valuable resource in the Japanese Army,” Mizuki writes. “Any suggestion that soldiers’ lives have meaning is tantamount to cowardice and treason. Soldiers are tools to be used. And the command’s greatest fear is that soldiers will flee from the enemy—or worse, surrender. They need them more afraid of dishonor than death.”
Rafael Villadiego (Nagasaki-ken 2010-2013) writes for Green Tea Grafitti and reviews Tokyo Tribe.
Rap battles with actual battle
In a dystopian, not-so-distant-future Tokyo that has fallen into urban decay, young thugs rule the streets and the disparate districts have been divided between the various gangs that hold sway over their respective neighbourhoods. There is an uneasy alliance between these tribes as long as each adheres to the unspoken truce of keeping out of each others’ allocated territory.
But none of the tribes are entirely satisfied with maintaining the status quo and are chomping at the bit to prove their superiority and expand their sphere of influence.
All this teetering tinder box needs is a spark to push it completely off the edge and set the entire thing on fire.
Enter Mera (Suzuki Ryohei), leader of the ‘Bukuro Wu-Ronz, who is seeking to finally settle an old score with the Musashino Saru’s, Kai (rapper Young Dais). Mix in the insane Yakuza boss Big Buppa (Takeuchi Riki) and the kung-fu kicking virginal daughter of an international crime lord, Sunmi (Seino Nana), and you have all the ingredients for one unforgettable night through the myriad maze of this doomed metropolis, where all the simmering tribal rivalries are finally set to boil over.
Who will win the war for the streets of Tokyo? Plug in the speakers, pump up the volume and strap in for one epic ride.
The inimitable Sono Sion is back with a hybrid hip-hop, musical, gangster battle epic that defies easy categorisation or description. Over-the-top to the point of parody, this film will either provide an entertainingly rollicking departure from standard cinema fare, or turn viewers off entirely. Replete with a mish-mash of genre cliches and tongue-in-cheek references to classic Hollywood and Japanese cinema. In short, it is exactly what the seemingly ludicrous blurb of the film promised. Yet some people still had the audacity to get-up and leave – obviously not realising just what they had signed up for.
Our guide to the evening’s festivities is MC SHOW (embodied by Sion Sono alum Sometani Shota) who sets the stage for this sprawling rap narrative in what is shapes up to be one heck of a ride through an alternate Tokyo where gangs rule the streets and anything goes. The only rule is that you don’t cross into another gang’s turf. But this turns out to be the night when rules are meant to be broken, which just might ignite an all-out war that will set the streets of Tokyo alight.
The storyline is paper-thin, but the narrative is carried forward on sheer energy, lyrical verve and musical drive. With references to old-school yakuza gangster flicks, Broadway musicals and underground “pinku” cinema, the film offers a veritable smorgasbord of z-grade schlock and kitschy action extravagance. Populated by a veritable who’s-who of old-school Japanese hip-hop and rap royalty, led by Young Dais, the majority of roles are filled by street-level, non-actors ranging from tattoo artists to stunt performers. Despite lacking requisite thespian credentials, they are instead fully versed in the world Sion is attempting to create, lending an air of authenticity to the work and lyrical legitimacy to the rhymes.
The lyrics themselves range from street-level swagger to the scintillatingly surreal, to the downright hilarious. Are these wannabe posers or veterans so far above the game they are willing to poke fun at their own expense? There are moments when one cannot be entirely certain. But it is clear that these indisputable artists are fully committed to the cause and believe unequivocally in the unfolding struggle.
There are some mind-boggling action sequences drenched in veritable buckets of blood all captured in sweeping single-take shots that fully immerse you in this sprawling epic. It certainly reaches a point where style and artifice well and truly rule over any form of substance. So if you are looking for a deeper statement on the human condition or an underlying message amidst all this madness, you may find yourself disappointed.
But if you are happy to check your brain at the door and fully immerse yourself in Sion Sono’s insane symphony, then plug yourself in and raise your fists high as you cheer on the love and peace of the Musashino Saru in their struggle to prevail against the all-out-mayhem declared by the warlike Waru.
At the close of the film, we eventually discover the idiosyncratically innocuous circumstance that set the entire war in motion, and you will either laugh or cry – or more than likely, both.
Watch this film if…
…you are hankering for rap infused, hip-hop action epic through the streets of Tokyo…
“Tokyo Tribe” (Tokyo Toraibu) was released August 30 2014 in Japan, starring Suzuki Ryohei, Young Dais, Seino Nana, Sato Ryuta, Kubozuka Yousuke, Takeuchi Riki, Sometani Shota.
JQ Magazine: Film Review — ‘The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness’
By Alexis Agliano Sanborn (Shimane-ken, 2009-11) for JQ magazine. Alexis is a graduate student of Harvard University’s Regional Studies—East Asia (RSEA) program, and currently works as an executive associate at Asia Society in New York City.
The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness is a documentary following animation director Hayao Miyazaki during his last months at Studio Ghibli. Centering on the production arc to The Wind Rises, Miyazaki’s final and most controversial film, it offers a unique glimpse into the fading days of Studio Ghibli with Miyazaki at the helm.
The film is directed by Mami Sunada, a former assistant director on Hirokazu Kore-eda’s films. Although the documentary does not detail the advent of the unprecedented behind-the-scenes access, from its beginning Sunada and Miyazaki share a tacit understanding that his film straddles a nebulous period. It is the beginning to the end of an era. As Miyazaki admits unreservedly, “I’m a man of the 20th century. I don’t want to live in the 21st.” This documentary captures his twilight world.
Fading though Studio Ghibli may be, it is still a place where one anticipates a world not beholden to reality. What one finds is an atmosphere entrenched in the daily slog. There are deadlines to be met, decisions to be made, marketing, budgeting, and finances that throw the project for a whirl. It is a work place like any other. Somewhat unromantic.
Yet, just like the Ghibli films themselves, this documentary captures the beauty of the everyday. It is there we find appreciation, meaning and relevance through details and rituals. For Miyazaki, these include greeting kindergarteners on their way to school, going up to the rooftop to “watch the sky,” or even the small cheerful doodles pinned about the office with inspirational messages. These simple elements stitch the work into something meaningful.
Eden Law (Fukushima-ken ALT 2010-2011) reviews My Little Sweet Pea, a film of the haha-mono genre, or “mother stories”. Guaranteed to make you call your mum and if not, you’re either an orphan or dead inside.
Why haven’t you called your mother yet?
“My Little Sweet Pea” is a genre film, one that is quite an old trope in Asian cinema, that of the self-sacrificing maternal figure who patiently bears all the insults and trials (usually originating from her family or ungrateful children), until finally her passing or fatal illness causes her former tormentors to repent their evil ways and express remorse in a climax of tears and self-blame. In Japan, it’s known as haha-mono or “mother stories”, and it’s an enduringly popular style of melodrama (my mother loves them to the point of identifying with the main character, and I don’t know what that says about me).
In this particular entry however, the mother character is not the main focus, but one of her children – her daughter Mugiko. Mugiko and her brother Norio have lived together since their father died, until one day their absent parental unit, Ayako, suddenly shows up, asking to move in, after having being missing for almost all of their lives. Begrudgingly, they allow her in, although Norio disgustedly moves out, leaving his sister alone with their mother. Mugiko subjects her mother to all sorts of nasty, unfilial treatment, before Ayako suddenly passes away from an unrevealed terminal cancer. As per custom, Mugiko has to travel to her mother’s home town to bury her ashes, which sparks a journey of discovery, of herself and the mother that she had never known.
Western tastes might find this kind of movie to be a tad over the top, as the mother character is by necessity, almost a caricature in how inhumanly compassionate and submissive she is – obviously she’s meant to elicit as much sympathy from the audience as possible while at the same time whipping up the accompanying feelings of indignation to such a frenzy that only an appropriately melodramatic or tear-soaked climax would suffice. But while “My Little Sweet Pea” ends the way you’d expect, it’s luckily a little more subtle in its emotional manipulation. As the audience explores Ayako’s past alongside with Mugiko, and as Mugiko gradually comes to realise and empathise with her mother, we also come to sympathise with the errant prodigal child, so that her emotional realisation and remorse is all the more touching and moving than it would have been, had we just simply hated her for being a bitch instead. Horikita Maki does very well in this regard in conveying a character that the audience could have disliked intensely, and she also does double duty in playing both the daughter and the mother (in her younger years).
“My Sweet Little Pea” still has its over the top moments, but it is also unexpectedly humourous in parts, allowing a deeper level of emotional complexity beyond “angry” and “crying”. A tear-jerker, it is nonetheless enjoyable and will make you feel the urge to call up your mum or hug her to apologise for being the brat that you most certainly were.
My Little Sweet Pea (Mugiko-san to) by Yoshida Keisuke, released December 21 2013 in Japan, starring Horikita Maki, Matsuda Ryuhei, Yo Kimiko, Nukumizu Yoichi, Asou Yumi.
JQ Magazine: Book Review — ‘Kuma-Kuma Chan, the Little Bear’
By Heather Wilson Tomoyasu (Ibaraki-ken, 2004-06) for JQ magazine. Heather is a blogger on her site US-Japan Fam, owner of Miny Moe (multi-brand variety packs that allow parents to find the best brand for their baby), founder of Tunes 4 Bay Ridge Tots, and mommy to her yummy toddler, Kenzo! You can follow and connect with her on Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, and Instagram.
I’m a sucker for the word chan. Seriously. I don’t know what it is; chan is just so endearing and cute and, well, Japanese!! If you’re a chan-aholic like me, get excited, because there is a new children’s book coming your way that is all about the chan!
The beloved children’s book, Kuma-Kuma Chan, the Little Bear, originally written by Kazue Takahashi and published in Japan in 2001, has just been translated into English, republished by Museyon, and will be available in stores and online Dec. 1 (just in time for those stocking stuffer purchases—hoorah!!). This hardcover book is small, about 5” x 7”, with 52 pages of simple-yet-adorable illustrations and minimal text. The story is short and sweet, with Takahashi describing what she imagines Kuma-Kuma Chan to do every day. With each turn of the page, you are greeted with an illustration and a single sentence describing a different chore or activity, such as shopping, gardening (and sometimes hurting his back), and personal hygiene such as, “He trims the nails of his paws. Then he lines up the cut nails and gazes at them.” I mean, come on, that is kind of hilarious.