August 2008

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This is a comment I wrote on the Huffington Post in response to Linda Bergthold’s essay, “The VP Choice that Lost the Presidency for McCain.”



I sincerely hope you’re right, but as kellygrrrl noted, American voters are not famous for deep thinking. Palin is enormously popular in Alaska, where she ran on a clean-government platform, clashing with her own party. The scandal you mentioned, once you look at the details, is probably no worse for her than Rezko has been for Barack. She can’t be painted as anti-gay, because, while opposing gay marriage (like Barack), she has actually bucked her party in expanding rights for gays in Alaska. My worry is that enough women–particularly older women who feel uncomfortable with the prospect of having a “colored fellow” in the White House but want to see a woman in the White House in their own lifetimes–will find in Palin an excuse to vote for McCain, without seriously considering the consequences at the level of the Supreme Court. If this is enough to tip the scales with the all-important woman’s vote, then we could look back on this as the day that Obama lost the race. I commented about this in another item just a week or so ago, before Obama announced Biden: if Obama picks any man, and McCain responds by picking a charismatic young women, we lose. Right now, I’m hoping that my fears are unfounded.
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Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

Sorry if I seem to be beating a dead horse here, but I’ve learned something new about what I’ve written about here and here, and the plot has thickened.

In the second entry, I briefly introduced a story in the November 1944 issue of Housewife’s Friend about a young woman who survived an attack on a passenger ship by an Allied submarine. Frankly, I suspected that the story was complete fiction. But it seems to have actually been fiction based on a true, and much more horrifying story. Author and translator Jonathan Clements wrote to tell me that the story sounds a lot like the story of the sinking of the Tsushima Maru, which I’m embarrassed to admit I had never heard about. After reading up on the story of the Tsushima Maru, and re-reading the article (which I hadn’t read very carefully the first time), I’m convinced that Jonathon is right. The Tsushima Maru was sunk on August 22, and this issue of Housewife’s Friend was being edited in late September, so the timing fits. The narrator writes that she instinctively looked at her wristwatch when the submarine was spotted and noted the time as 10:15. This fits with the story of the Tsushima Maru, which was attacked at 10:12 p.m.. The story also says there were many children on board, which also true of the Tsushima Maru.

What doesn’t fit is the scale. In this story, the ship is a mere 130 tons, traveling alone, and is carrying roughly 70 civilians. The Tsushima Maru was 6,754 tons, traveling with four other vessels (including a destroyer and a gunship), and is believed to have carried some 1,788 people, including 826 children, when it was sunk. A total of some 1418 people, including a shocking 775 children, were killed in the attack. Apparently the Tsushima Maru, the oldest and slowest of the five vessels, fell behind–which makes one wonder what the point of a military escort is–when the submarine USS Bowfin attacked the convoy. The Tsushima Maru was unmarked and traveling with its lights off. The other ships in the convoy shook off the Bowfin by dropping depth charges while fleeing at top speed. Apparently fearing the total destruction of the convoy, the surviving four vessels decided against going back to look for survivors. The crew of the Bowfin did not learn until 20 later that the ship they sunk carried children.

So why the massive discrepancy between the fact and this bit of fiction-presented-as-nonfiction? Survivors of the sinking, and anyone else who knew of it, were strictly forbidden from telling anyone about the incident. With the military government constantly reassuring the people that Japan was winning the war, it would probably not look good to admit that a large ship accompanied by a destroyer and gunship was sunk by the enemy. And it certainly would not do to have people know that the attack (by a single American submarine) took more than 1400 lives, more than half of which were children being evacuated out of fear of impending attack on Okinawa.

But apparently the propaganda people couldn’t resist trying to use this story in some way. They may also have wanted a cover story to account for the inevitable rumors of the incident. So they eliminated the convoy, shrunk the ship and the number of passengers down to a tiny fraction, and made all the passengers civilians. This changes the story to that of a heartless attack on a single small motorized sailboat by a massive submarine.

Excerpt from To Become a Demon of Revenge

Excerpt from "To Become a Demon of Revenge"

Another thing I missed. The story ends with a taste of the vitriol to come in the December issue. Here’s my translation, along with a scan of the original.

When I was on _____ Island, I heard something several times from American prisoners. “When America achieves victory, we will take the males who are able to work, put rings in their noses, attach leashes, and make them work. We’ll kill all the rest [of the males]. We’ll take all the women back to the homeland, and marry them to Negroes. Children are a nuisance, so we’ll rip their heads off.”

But I thought no human could ever do such things. What a fool I was. I had thought Americans were human beings. Americans are demons; they are devils; theirs is a nation of devils. It’s a nation of devils that could do such things without a second thought. Along with the spirits of the seven family members and 62 islanders [who died], I shout out clearly. I too will become a demon, of revenge. If ever the day comes when I am permitted, I will cling to a torpedo and smash it into an enemy ship. To the spirits of my parents and all those who were slaughtered, I so vow.

Now I’m thinking that it was the sinking of the Tsushima Maru, secret though it was, that triggered the shockingly hateful content of the December 1944 issue. But the reading public, which would not learn the truth of the Tsushima Maru tragedy until well after the war’s end, must have found the sudden, unexplained change of tone unsettling.

To people for whom manga and anime go together like peanut butter and jelly, my almost complete lack of interest in the latter tends to come as a surprise. It’s not that I don’t like animation as a form. Quite the contrary. It’s the concrete manifestations I find generally repellent. I can name plenty of animation, and anime, that I think is brilliant (Isao Takahata’s Only Yesterday and Gisaburô Sugii’s Night on the Galactic Railroad are two of my favorite movies of all time), but the T.V. anime I’ve been exposed to over the past 23 years or so is, in my opinion, 98% dreck. Sometimes you get a pretty decent story (or at least one that keeps your attention), and sometimes you get pretty decent production values, but rarely do you get both in the same anime.

Prime time anime is, in my view, unwatchable. Production values are laughable. For one thing, despite all the sound and fury, if you watch carefully enough, you’ll notice that very little actually moves, except the camera. (In the world of TV anime, mouths open and close, but jaws are fused into a fixed position.) It’s “animation” without the animation. I can never focus on the stories, because I’m distracted by the distorted perspective of the backgrounds, which look like they were tossed off by an underpaid day-worker in Korea (because they were). Utterly implausible settings, over-the-top impractical costumes, and a complete disregard for the most basic Newtonian physics don’t help.

Late night anime tends to have much higher production values and are generally more pleasant to look at, but are targeted exclusively at otaku, so, again, they hold little appeal for someone like me who just can’t get into, well, utterly implausible settings, over-the-top impractical costumes, and a complete disregard for the most basic Newtonian physics.

Then there is NHK anime, which is in a class of its own. The production values are quite high, possibly the highest of any T.V. animation in the world. But the content is very much a mixed bag, ranging from saccharine to “educational” to, well, otaku.

I won’t go into Sunday morning children’s anime, which is occasionally not so wretched (Ojamajo Doremi leaps to mind), but nothing to write home about.

Planetes DVD

Planetes DVD

But I have this Japanese friend who pretty much forced me to sit down and watch Planetes.

It blew my mind. Based on a seinen manga by Makoto Yukimura, this series of 26 half-hour episodes (broadacast on NHK in 2003 and 2004) had me glued to my T.V. screen in a way that only LOST and Star Trek: Enterprise (all right, and Allyson Felix) have in recent years.

The production values are about the best you will find in T.V. animation. It’s not up to the standards of theatrical-release Disney (before it abandoned 2D) or Studio Ghibli, but it comes pretty damned close. The content is serious drama and serious science fiction. Set some 70 years in the future, it is about the romance and reality of space exploration, and runs the gamut from cute slapstick to grim psychological and social commentary. A theme that runs throughout the series is the conflict between the lure of space travel and the reality of economic injustice on Earth. This theme is never glossed over or solved magically. The lead characters, Ai Tanabe and Hachirota Hoshino seem at first like standard-issue, two-dimensional anime characters, but are quickly revealed to be complex characters.

I don’t want to spoil the story for anyone, so I’ll leave it at that.

From what I have heard of the manga, I think I would be disappointed after seeing the anime. For one thing, Yukimura apparently did virtually no research on space travel for the series, whereas the anime staff did plenty of homework.

Ultimately, I think, the appeal of Planetes is less in the broader story than in the details. From the ever-present foothold bars on which the characters hook their feet in zero gravity, to the bureaucracy and corporate politics, the staff go the extra mile to help the viewer suspend disbelief and become absorbed in the world of Planetes.

The title, of course, is the Greek word from which the English word “planet” is derived, and means “wanderer,” a reference to the fact that planets do not stay in one place, like other stars, but “wander” the sky in complex yet predictable patterns that fascinated and puzzled astronomers the world over until they were explained by Copernicus and Kepler. In Planetes it is not only the planets but the characters that wander, in both outer space and inner space.

Complete DVD set available from Amazon.com.

P.S.: I watched this in Japanese, so I can’t comment on the English dub or subtitles. Anyone who can is welcome to review them below.

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A sorry simian named Roy Den Hollander seems determined to prove so, if only by offering himself as proof positive. Just read this L.A. Times column by Meghan Daum and this New Yorker article by Lauren Collins and you’ll see what I mean.

Where to begin? This guy’s skull is like a fishbowl: the workings of its contents are embarrassingly obvious at a glance. The Collin’s piece demonstrates this better than I ever could, so I won’t even touch on the subject of his self-defeating vendetta against “ladies’ night.”

What I want to talk about is his more disturbing attack on women’s studies. Like both Hollander and Daum, I spent a few years at Columbia University, and have a couple of degrees to prove it, and while I was there I was peripherally involved with the Women’s Studies program that Hollander claims discriminates against men. As Daum makes clear, Hollander doesn’t actually know anything about the content of the Women’s Studies program there or anywhere else; he just wants to see all women’s studies programs eliminated because they promote feminism.

As an undergraduate at Penn State, I majored in Creative Writing and minored in Women’s Studies. I was one of two men enrolled in the Women’s Studies minor at the time. (They now offer a major, but back then there was only a minor.)

Although I’m certain it would make no difference to Hollander, I can testify that neither Penn State’s program nor Columbia’s program discriminated against men in the least. On the contrary, both professors and students were happy to have open-minded men in the classroom. I’m sure that’s even more true today than it was when I was at Penn State 20 years ago. (Back then, we were pretty radical. I helped arrange guest lectures by Robin Morgan and Mary Daly.)

These days, many universities are changing the names of their women’s studies programs to “gender studies,” which is probably a good idea if only because the study of men and masculinity (often by men) has become an important part of the field. But, as Daum quotes Harry Brod as saying, “If Roy Den Hollander really understood what men’s studies was, he wouldn’t be in favor of it.”

Hollander seems to be big into the single’s bar scene, and picking up (or rather trying to pick up) women. One great irony is that, with his 10th Century mindset, his ideal woman exists nowhere but in his own undernourished imagination. The greater irony is that if he actually tried to understand feminism and incorporate a bit of it into his own thinking and behavior, he might actually have better luck getting laid.

Red Blinds the Foolish, by Est Em, coming in December 208

Red Blinds the Foolish, by Est Em, coming in December 208

I was keeping this under my hat, but now that Deux (Aurora) has announced it and it is available for pre-ordering on Amazon, I suppose I can report that I am doing the translation for Est Em’s second English-language publication. Literally. At this very moment. It was due Friday, but a cold set me back, and Monday’s my new deadline. So before getting back to work I’ll just make a quick plug.

Red Blinds the Foolish is brilliant, beautiful stuff, whether you like yaoi/BL or not. I am having a blast translating it, though I may have spent more time studying up on the corrida de toros than I really needed to. Est Em’s enthusiasm (fanaticism?) for the toros is infectious, and I didn’t want to screw it up. It’s set to hit bookstores in December.

I couldn’t help laughing when I first saw the cover of the Japanese edition, though. (See the image above.) Est Em confessed to me that the placement of the bullhorns was intentional, but she was hoping only the more jaded viewer (and I suppose I’m one of them) would notice.

As I have boasted elsewhere, Est Em is a former student of mine and one of my best friends. I’m really proud of her. She’s had three paperbacks published in two years, and, if I’m not mistaken, has two more on the way. I don’t know where she gets all her energy from, but I wish she would give me just 2 or 3% of it.

Seduce Me After the Show, by Est Em, May 2008

Seduce Me After the Show, by Est Em, May 2008

If you haven’t checked it out already, I also strongly recommend her first translated volume, Seduce Me After the Show. I did not get in on that one early enough to do the translation, but I’m credited as the “supervising translator,” which means I corrected and revised the translation Deux/Aurora had commissioned. I did completely re-translate “Twilight Cicadas,” though, so if you hate the way that was translated, now you know who to blame.

Est Em is going to be appearing in a prominent non-BL magazine in the near future, and her fanbase is sure to grow.

End of plug. Now back to work.

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The November 1944 issue of Housewifes Friend

The November 1944 issue of "Housewife's Friend"

Impetuous fool that I am, I quickly acquired copies of the November 1944 and December 1945 issues of Housewife’s Friend, in order to compare them to the foaming-at-the-mouth crazy December 1944 issue that I discussed a couple of entries back. The difference between the back-to-back issues from the winter of 1944 are striking. Needless to say, the November issue is also chock full of propaganda, but that was true of everything published in Japan, at least after the Battle of Midway. But where the December issue drips with vitriol and hatred, the November issue is solemn and sober.

The frontispiece is an illustration of a woman solemnly handing her son the military-issue sword that belonged to her husband, who has died in battle. (That’s Dad’s photo in the background.) The young man is getting ready to go off to battle himself. Pretty standard stuff as war propaganda goes.

A mother gives her late husbands sword to her son

A mother gives her late husband's sword to her son

The issue includes a paean to Admiral Togo, photos of female students contributing to the war effort, detailed instructions on how to make protective clothing in preparation for air raids, tips on getting to your bomb shelter quickly and efficiently, and a serialized war novel.

Survivor of alleged attack on passenger boat

"Survivor" of alleged attack on passenger boat

The closest thing to the vitriol in the whole issue is the story of a young woman whose passenger boat, filled with Japanese refugees from an unnamed island, was (allegedly) attacked and sunk by an American submarine, killing most of the men, women, and children aboard. The story is ostensibly written by the young woman herself, but judging by the unusually high literary quality, I’m assuming it was actually written by a professional writer, and probably a novelist. The young woman, who miraculously survives the attack, vows to become a “demon of revenge” in response to this cowardly and cruel attack on unarmed civilians fleeing for the lives.

One of the more interesting pieces is a short, unattributed piece arguing that the only way to win the war is to go on the offensive. The first sentence is striking for its grudging nod to the enemy: “The Americans and British, who were weak when they were on the defensive, became an enemy not to be underestimated when they went on the offensive.” The exhortation, though, ultimately relies on divine intervention. “The Russo-Japanese War was won by ‘human bullets.’ The victory against the Americans and British will be one of bodily assault. And in the end it will be a victory of the Japanese spirit. We die to live. There is no god of victory who would not take the side of such an all-out charge.”

Back cover, illustrating well-equipped bomb shelter

Back cover, illustrating well-equipped bomb shelter

The back cover of the magazine is an illustration of a well-equipped bomb shelter, again filled with practical advice. The back cover also helps clear up something that had been puzzling me. I had wondered in my earlier post who could afford these magazines, but the bottom of the back cover exhorts readers to share the magazine with as many people as possible, and even includes a row of boxes for people to put their family stamp in before passing it along to the next reader. This row of boxes is familiar to anyone who has lived in Japan, since it is still used in passing around notices and newsletters of potential interest to neighborhood residents. Note, though, that only the first box contains a stamp (which has faded beyond legibility). Either the second reader was a slacker, or the first reader ended up never passing it along. Either way, it helps explain why this particular copy is in such good shape.

So I’m wondering, what happened between October 6 (when this issue went to the printer) and November 6 (when the “Kill the Americans!” issue presumably went to the printer)? Well, I did a bit of research. That was actually quite an eventful month in the Pacific War. On October 11, the U.S. conducted air raids on Okinawa that took the Japanese completely by surprise. In the Battle of Leyte Gulf (October 23 – 26), the allies won a decisive victory, sinking the Yamato-class Musashi in the process. But perhaps most significantly, the first planned and successful kamikaze attack took place in that same battle, on October 25, sinking the U.S.S. St. Lo. Although the battle effectively wiped out Japan’s fleet (with the notable exception of the Yamato), the Navy loudly hailed the sinking of the St. Lo and the “success” of it’s new (and effectively last) weapon, the suicide air attack.

The question is, would the Battle of Leyte Gulf and the kamikaze attacks have influenced the content of the December issue of Housewife’s Friend? That depends on exactly when that issue went to press, and without access to the original (which, as I explained in the earlier post, is extremely rare), I have no way of knowing for sure. If it followed the schedule of the November issue, it would have been printed November 6, which would not leave much time for the Battle of Leyte to affect the content. But if it was even a few days later, it may have. That may actually account for the sloppy writing and bizarre pieces (such as the alleged American plan for the aftermath of the war) that seemed to have been pulled out of thin air. Although I’ve read only the excerpts Hayakwa quotes, that writing stands in stark contrast to the careful, solid writing in this November issue. It may be that the editors had a December issue ready to go, and literally stopped the presses to hastily put together a new issue reflecting the turn in the tide of the war. Things had been going badly enough since the Battle of Midway, in 1942, but now, Japan was left nothing but fighter planes, and very little fuel–very little of anything, in fact–to fight off the approaching allied fleet. They literally had only their “human bullets” (encased into hastily-built flying coffins) to fight with.

The editor in chief of Housewife’s Friend, Yasuo Hongoh, is something of a legend, and made a comeback as editor-in-chief when the Occupation ended in 1952. It’s hard to believe that an editor of his caliber could be responsible for the notorious December 1944 issue. I wonder if the issue wasn’t hijacked by government bureaucrats, who packed in all the venom and hatred they could in a desperate effort to inspire the public. I wonder if anyone alive knows the answer.

Next time I’ll introduce the December 1945 issue, which is surreal in a completely different way. In the meantime, you can check out the galleries I’ve made of the November 1944 and December 1945 issues.

Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. According to Awstats, the single most popular search phrase that leads people to my web site is “japanese girls”. That phrase accounts for more than 10% of all searches leading to matt-thorn.com. I suspect  those searchers are disappointed with what they find. So I thought I’d tease them even more with this misleading blog entry.

A Private Conversation by Katsuji Matsumoto

"A Private Conversation" by Katsuji Matsumoto

If you’re big into manga, chances are you’ve heard of yuri, stories of love (and sometimes sex) between girls. Yuri actually has roots that go way back. Before the war, when sex-segregated education was the norm, it was considered normal for girls to get crushes on other girls and enter into what was called an “S” (from the English word “sister”) relationship. These girls exchanged love letters on a daily basis, held hands and otherwise displayed physical affection, both in public and in private. How far that physical affection extended is a matter of debate, and also a matter of individual difference. Such homosocial/homosexual relationships were also common in same-sex boarding schools in the West prior to World War II. And in both Japan and the West, it was assumed that this was a sort of “rite of passage” or “phase” which adolescents would eventually outgrow and leave behind.

For most Japanese girls, that was no doubt the case. It was a schoolgirls’ game. But for others, it was neither a phase nor a game. The most famous example is novelist Nobuko Yoshiya (1896-1973). Making her professional debut at the tender age of 19, Yoshiya spent decades writing stories of intense “friendships” between girls. She was also the most popular writer of shôjo shôsetsu (“girls’ fiction”) of her time, and is still widely read today. There is, of course, no mention of sex in any of her stories. But there are countless descriptions of longing, feelings of passion, tears, kisses, caresses, and, in at least one case, what seems to be a double suicide committed by a pair of “friends” who chose death over separation. Yoshiya herself was a rare example of a woman who, thanks to the economic independence earned through her writing, was able to avoid the pressure to marry, and lived her entire adult life with her “special friend,” Chiyo Monma.

The girls’ magazines of prewar Japan–particularly from the mid 1920s till roughly 1940–were overflowing with “yuri-like” content. In addition to the fiction, there were articles about “true stories” of friendship, beautiful illustrations, and–always a popular item–stationary for writing a letter to that one “special friend.”  Here’s a gallery of “yuri” images from prewar girls’ magazines. Most are scanned from reproductions, but a few come from my own modest collection of prewar girls’ magazines.

Enjoy!

“Kill the Americans!”

“Don’t let the Americans live!”

“Don’t let a single American devil survive!”

“Each one kill ten! Butcher the American devils!”

Al-Qaeda propaganda? No, slogans printed in the December 1944 issue of Shufu no tomo (“Housewife’s Friend”), a very mainstream women’s magazine that was published from 1917 until May of this year (a total of 91 years).

December 1944 issue of "Housewives' Friend"

December 1944 issue of "Housewife's Friend"

I’m not one of those who are interested in continuing to flog the Japanese for offenses committed more than 60 years ago by people who are almost all dead now. But this particular issue is so stunning and extreme in its vitriol that I couldn’t help blogging about it. Most of the information and all of the images (except the cover of Girls’ Club)here come from a website titled “Kyokô no teikoku” (“The Empire of Lies” or “The False Empire”), which is maintained by an interesting gentleman named Tadanori Hayakawa. Hayakawa is someone who wants to continue criticizing Japan for its actions in WWII, but unlike most others, he does so with a sense of humor. As the tone of Hayakawa’s commentary suggests, the over-the-top propaganda in this particular publication seems both funny and frightening 66 years later. Hayakawa’s site is basically dedicated to looking at the war through the lens of things published in Japan during the war, which frankly makes it more interesting to read than sober analysis of bureaucratic records or grim eyewitness accounts. Here’s a taste of the content. According to Hayakawa,

What’s amazing is that 21 of the magazine’s 52 pages are imprinted with the four slogans, ‘Kill the Americans!’, ‘Don’t let the Americans live!’, ‘Kill the American soldiers!’, ‘Don’t let the American soldiers live!’. Turn one page and you see ‘kill!’, turn the next and see ‘don’t let them live!’ I was stunned. A strange hatred and frenzy fills the page. The editors’ incantation-like slogan of “kill!” continued through the June 1945 issue, which was the last issue published before the Japanese surrender.

Kill the Americans!

Kill the Americans!

War historian Ryuuji Takasaki (and it’s not clear if Hayakawa spoke with him directly or is referring to something Takasaki wrote) apparently says that this particular issue of Housewife’s Friend is extremely rare, and speculates (plausibly, it seems to me) that the editors retrieved and burned as many copies as they could in order to avoid being charged with war crimes.

Even while you sleep, don't forget: the American devils must be killed!

Even while you sleep, don't forget: the American devils must be killed!

Hayakawa again:

Apparently “kill!” was not strong enough for the editors, because at the back of the magazines the editors offer a 30 yen [about U.S. $80 in today's money] prize for “one hundred million phrases urging the extermination of the American devils!”*


The issue’s theme is “The Bestial American People,” and an unattributed article titled “This Is the Enemy!” (no shortage of exclamation marks here) explains:

The Americans, who gleefully eat raw meat dripping with blood, are particularly fond of baseball, boxing, and automobile racing, and when someone is killed or seriously injured, the women screech with joy and the entire arena becomes uproarious with joy.

Yeah, the writer uses the word “joy” (yorokobi) twice (actually three times, if you count the adverb I translated as “gleefully”) in the same sentence. Either he’s a bit excited, or editorial standards have seriously lapsed by this time. Who knew baseball was so dangerous back then?

Another unattributed article is titled, “The Americans Outrageous Plans for the Aftermath of the War”.

Men who can work will all be used as slaves in the development of New Guinea and Borneo. The women will be married to Negroes. Children will be castrated. Thus will the Japanese race be wiped out.

Negroes! Why!? But wait! There’s more!

The best thing to do with the children is cripple them. Gouge out their eyes, cut off an arm or a leg…create every kind of cripple possible. Seeing these children wandering the streets like animals will certainly make a delightful spectacle.

Wow. Who knew the U.S. government had such a plan? Whoever wrote it could have gotten a job in the Bush 43 White House. Needless to say, the plan must have undergone some serious revision by August 1945. Reading this today, you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Hayakawa argues that these absurd allegations would be taken seriously by readers because that was in fact the kind of things the Japanese army was doing. Keep in mind that Hayakawa is an extreme leftist, and may have a tendency toward hyperbole. Besides, the average Japanese on the home-front never heard a word about any war crimes the Japanese military may have been committing. But Hayakawa does make one good point:

This was a woman’s magazine, and it is riddled with items that would make the virtuous women of the divine Japanese nation tremble with fear; to wit, losing the war means “women will be raped and children castrated and turned into sideshow freaks.” The final psychological weapon used to mobilize the people for the war was repeatedly drilling into them a fear of the enemy.

Hayakawa concludes:

When I think of the tragedy in which, because of this, many women in Saipan and Okinawa, afraid to surrender to the American military, took their own lives, I feel an intense anger well up towards the anonymous bastards who wrote this crap.

Pretty strong stuff. But there is now evidence that many, if not most, of the women who leaped from that cliff in Okinawa were forced to do so at gunpoint by Japanese soldiers. A tragedy either way.

Hayakawa’s report leaves me with a couple of questions. First, was it just this one issue that was so completely over the top, and if so, why? Second, was anyone actually reading this in December of 1944?

Hayakawa says “This issue of Housewife’s Friend stands out”, and says he’s never seen “such direct agitation to ‘kill’.” He wonders if the editors were trying to revive the war spirit at a time when the people were weary of war, and it looked like Japan was losing. “But this was a women’s magazine, you know?” he comments, as if puzzled himself. Although the slogans apparently continued through the last six war-time issues, it seems this issue really does stand out in terms of sheer vitriol, which makes you wonder why. Was it short-term pressure from the government? If so, why the hell pick Housewife’s Friend? Was the publisher trying to curry the favor of the government and just got carried away? Did the editor-in-chief lose a loved one in the war and use his magazine to vent? My curiosity is piqued now, so I’m trying to see if I can acquire (reasonably-priced) copies of the magazine from this period. (Unfortunately, I can’t find a library that has a collection of the magazine.)

The last wartime issue of "Girls\' Club," July 1947

The last wartime issue of "Girls' Club," July 1945

The second question, about who was reading this stuff, is one I’ve been wondering about for a long time. I’ve seen children’s magazines published in the last year of the war, and they are indeed grim and filled with propaganda (though nothing nearly as wacky as this). But by this time, people were having trouble just feeding their families. They were eating grasshoppers, for god’s sake. Even the content of the magazines suggests that, to put it mildly, the population was collectively tightening its belt. People regularly relied on the black market for essentials that simply could not be had through officially sanctioned sources. This issue of Housewife’s Friend has a slick color cover (featuring a virtuous, pretty young thing working hard in an airplane factory), but as far as I know, the last few wartime issues of the few remaining magazines of any kind in Japan were nothing more than folded, black and white pamphlets. (When I saw an actual copy of the last wartime issue of Girls’ Club at the International Institute for Children’s Literature in Osaka, I actually broke down and cried. It was that sad.) So I’m wondering, how many people, apart from government and business elite, were reading any kind of magazine in December of 1944? I don’t know.

As the Bard put it, “Cry ‘Havoc,’ and let slip the dogs of war.” Crazy, sad stuff.


* Note that Japan’s population in 1944 was hardly more than seventy million, so the editors were apparently counting on every single reader to send in dozens if not hundreds of unique slogans. One of the slogans in this issue, by the way, was “Fling a hundred million ‘human bullets’ (against the enemy)!” “Human bullet” (literally, “flesh bullet,” nikudan) was a term coined in the Russo-Japanese War to refer to soldiers, presumably out of ammunition, literally attacking the enemy bodily. Apparently the editors expected their housewife readers to pump out another twenty-five million “human bullets,” pronto. How they would do this without the assistance of their husbands, most of whom were on the front lines or dead, is a bit of a puzzle. BACK TO TEXT

I just read this column in the L.A. Times by Meghan Daum, and was, well, “nonplussed,” in the original sense of the word. Why? Because I had not even been aware that the meaning had changed at all. How on earth could “nonplussed” come to mean “unfazed”?

I mean, I knew I was fighting a losing battle in trying to get people to use “enormity” properly for twenty years, but this one came out of left field. For me, that is. Which is what makes me wonder if I’ve become Rip Van Winkle. I majored in writing as an undergrad at Penn State, and have been something of a professional writer for the past 18 years or so. But I’ve lived about 11 or 12 of those years in Japan, and often find myself wondering if I’ve lost hold of my native language.

Proof that years in Japan have affected my English: I couldn’t remember the name “Rip Van Winkle,” and had to look up “Urashima Tarô” on Wikipedia, in the hope that the article would include a reference to the American equivalent. (It did.)

I spent a year in Boston in 2004 and 2005, during which time I experienced counter-culture shock time and time again. I wonder what’s changed in the meantime, besides the use of “nonplussed.”

Well, at least it’s a relief to see that the New Oxford American Dictionary (2nd ed.), though noting the common misusage of “enormity” (when “enormousness” should be used), still prefers the original meaning (which you can look up yourself).

But they’ve surrendered on “enthuse,” and the definition even contains a bit of editorializing, scolding “traditionalists” for frowning on the word. I hate to think how the kind of ridiculous jargon used in the American workplace these days will bastardize the language.

God, I sound like an old schoolmarm. (Wait. Do people even say “schoolmarm” anymore?”)

So I’ve started editing Wikipedia articles. Friends have asked me why I would contribute to Wikipedia instead of publishing my own work elsewhere, but it’s like an itch that you can’t resist scratching. I’ve been cautious, though. Really. I know that trying to fix all the flaws in the articles on subjects I care most about, like Shôjo Manga, would be maddening and a massive waste of my time (as if I wasn’t wasting it massively already), so I’ve defined boundaries for myself. No, really. For example, in the Shôjo Manga article, I basically rewrote the history section, and helped clean up the opening summary, but beyond that I’m just offering suggestions and answering questions on the Discussion page. And somehow I ended up helping out with the Yaoi article. This has been fun, probably because I have kept my commitment limited.

But I got into this whole editing thing through an unlikely route. I’ve been playing “Animal Crossing” (in Japanese) on my Nintendo DS Lite (Hey, I’m on sick leave!), and came across an item called a “shakôkidogû.” I recognized the item, but not the name, so I looked it up in my dictionary. Nothing. Then I Googled it, and found a Wikipedia article on the subject. Pretty interesting. But then I was surprised to see there was an English version. I checked it out, and was appalled to see that it had been tossed off by some otaku just so that he could mention that some character from some anime was based on shakôkidogû. So I translated the entire Japanese article and completely rewrote the English article.

The punch line is that I could not care less about shakôkidogû.

Screen shot of my Wikipedia article on Katsuji Matsumoto

Screen shot of my Wikipedia article on Katsuji Matsumoto

But that was my start down the slippery slope. In rewriting the history section of the Shôjo Manga article, I mentioned one of my favorite prewar cartoonists and illustrators, Katsuji Matsumoto. Out of curiosity, I checked out the Japanese language article on him, and was again appalled, this time at how perfunctory it was. It was basically copied and pasted from the profile on the official Matsumoto website, which itself contains surprisingly little biographical information. This needs to be remedied. But just thinking about writing a proper article in Japanese made me feel tired, so I thought, “I’ll just make a nice, short English-language article, and then tweak the Japanese article when I find time.” This was the first (and so far, only) Wikipedia article I created from scratch. As you can see, it turned be not so short. It’s currently about ten times as long as the Japanese article. (^^;) But I’m pretty darn proud of it. There was some information that I couldn’t find anywhere, so I actually contacted Matsumoto’s youngest daughter, who basically manages his estate, and she has been enthusiastically helpful, pretty much giving me carte blanche to use any image I want to, and promoting the article on her own blog. I then found a volunteer to translate my article into Japanese, but even though I asked him to take liberties (since he himself knows a great deal about Matsumoto), he apparently felt obliged to do a literal translation. So now I’m editing Japanese written by a native speaker to make it sound more natural. Go figure.

By the way, writing the article on Matsumoto was the catalyst for the auction bidding binge I talked about in my last post.

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