Riku and the Kingdom of White is my translation of リクと白の王国 (Riku to shiro no ōkoku), Randy Taguchi’s urgent, magical realist tale of childhood innocence lost in the wake of the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami disaster. Rates of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) among children of the affected areas continue to run high, as Ms. Taguchi confirmed in the course of her extensive research interviewing the children and parents who continue to live in Fukushima to this day. The story, inspired by the interviews, reveals a soul-searing picture of how children, and even their parents, continue to cope and remain undaunted, finding hope in the midst of so much uncertainty, hopelessness, and tragedy.
After Fujisan, this is the second work by Ms. Taguchi I have had the immense honor of translating. I highly recommend it not only for those who are keen to learn about life in Fukushima for children today, but for all those who are fond of YA novels as well. The book is out from Balestier Press, an exciting independent publisher based in Singapore and London, focusing on Contemporary Asian literature.
The author of Fujisan, Randy Taguchi, recently held a launch party for the release of her new novel, “In the Zone (Zone Ni Te in the original Japanese).” The title is a reference to the 20km evacuation zone around the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant, decommissioned due to the meltdowns that follwed in the wake of the 2011 Tohoku earthquake andtsunami disaster. Populated with characters based on Ms. Taguchi’s probing, personal interviews with the displaced, the novel sold more than two hundred copies within three days of its release.
The launch party took place at a newly opened airy restaurant-cum-library called Waterras, located in the vicinity of a number of Japan’s major publishing houses in Tokyo. Ms. Taguchi was dressed in a flowing cotton ensemble and a bead necklace, making her reminiscent of a benevolent new age mystic from the island in Lost, the TV series. Petite in stature, she began her talk perched on a stool before a sizable audience of her devoted fans like Ms. Mie, who had come all the way from, as it happened, Mie prefecture, wearing her two little boys in baby slings; one strapped behind her and the other in front. Moments later though, Ms. Taguchi stopped speaking and jumped off the stool to stay true to her Earth Mother persona. “I need to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground,” she said before moving on.
In the course of her lively talk, she announced her tie-up with a local bookstore to help revive more of its kind in this day and age of one-click convenience, introduced “Deserted" by Toshifumi Taniuchi (a vivid photgraphic account of life [or the lack therof] in Fukushima's danger zone), presented a slide show of package tours (led by Ms. Taguchi herself) to destinations such as Sri Lanka, and introduced Chita Grandy, her fan club. With this enterprise, she hopes to not only build a community of fans but also co-author works of literature with them. As if to commemorate the beginning of such an experimental, grass-roots, artistic collaboration, one of Ms. Taguchi’s assistants--an animated young man--appeared on stage and performed a dynamic, improvisational dance. Incidentally, yours truly ended up providing rhythmic accompaniment and had a great time reliving his rock-band days, banging away on a lectern with his bare hands.
The highlight of her talk, however, was an anecdote about her meeting with her late idol, the prominent Jungian, Dr. Hayao Kawai, whose renowned works include, “The Japanese Psyche: Major Motifs in the Fairy Tales of Japan.” Ms. Taguchi's agent was also present at this meeting of the minds and he dropped the question, “How did you like Fujisan?” The psychologist's response indicated that he was more interested in Randy Taguchi the daughter than in Randy Taguchi the author. In fact, he remained terse throughout the sesstion until it became clear that Ms. Taguchi's relationship with her father, an alcoholic, was a tumultuous one. For some reason, this revelation, along with other stories about her father, fascinated the reflective scholar and prompted him to convey one rather enigmatic tip just before parting company. “When you go out meeting people for your research and such, just let your mind get hazy, my dear,” he said to Ms. Taguchi, leaving her annoyed and puzzled.
But many bestsellers later, and after meditating over the years on Dr. Kawai’s message--long after he had passed away--she concluded with teary eyes that she finally understood what the doctor had meant, and that she was truly grateful to him for the wisdom he had shared that day.
The Japanese word the doctor had used for hazy was “bonyari.” While this could also be translated to “vacant” or even “absent-minded,” the word also implies “out of focus.” If a writer’s life could be about gaining a lateral perspective on reality to arrive at resonant truths, Ms. Taguchi has most evidently mastered the art of shifting her mind out of focus from time to time--of slowing down to stop and smell the metaphysical roses.
From left to right: Yours truly, Randy Taguchi, and Koji Chikatani
The inaugural Tokyo International Literary Festival was a fantastic dream come true, treating Tokyo's literati to live readings and panel discussions on various topics, ranging from otaku romance and global travel to jazz writing, monsters, the future of books and reimagining Tokyo. There was even a live writing performance that saw the author Shinji Ishii improvising a short story while riding a train. "It swayed, writing in there," he said, commenting about both the train and his spirit.
And boy were spirits swayed! Junot Diaz, the highly
acclaimed author of "This is How You Lose Her," talked about how the story of love is basically about two people when it works, but about society at large when it fails. Pico Iyer, the inimitable and intrepid postmodern travel writer with skyrocketing frequent flyer miles, talked about traveling to become young fools again in his discussion with John Freeman,the editor of Granta and a true polymath, and Geoff Dyer,an eclectic and delightfully humorous author of many books, whose topics range from the backstories of jazz legends to aircraft carriers.
An open mike session at Super Deluxe, one of Roppongi's most happening bars, featured Power Point enhanced poetry readings by the edgy, iPadwielding Bin Sugawara, a rap session by DJ Misoshiru & MC Gohan, a charming, squeaky clean artist of the"kawaii" school paying tribute to the glory of food, and a poetry reading by Wen Yourou, a vivacious multiculturalwriter who claimed to be neither Chinese nor Japanese, but"Chapanese" (a straddler of both Chinese and Japanese worlds).
Chip Kidd, the exuberant, stylish and trailblazing bookdesigner and author, was also there to talk
about the intricacies and wondersof a good book design that can't be
reproduced on a kindle (yet). JonathanSafran Foer, the highly acclaimed author of Everything is Illuminated, spokeabout "writing to see your thoughts," and Michael Emmerich, the eminent translator of many Japanese works offiction, including Monsters---a wonderfully manic short story by HideoFurukawa---delved deep into a discussion about voice and tone, using theanalogy of an airplane to shed light on the finer points of those literarydevices.
Deborah Treisman, the fiction editor of The New Yorker and JohnFreeman of Granta were brilliant moderators (along with many others), steering discussions with their thoughtful questions and comments,and Lexy Bloom, a senior editor at Vintage and Anchor Books offered some greatinsights into the process of producing works in translation. NicoleKrausstruly shined in the session titled Memory, Love,Words and in an another one titled Encounters at the Crossroads of Culture.
David Peace, an ex-Nova English teacher turned celebratedauthor of works such as Occupied City and Tokyo Year Zero, made an impassionedperformance, while the world-renowned poet Shuntaro Tanikawa recited verses that captured tender and bittersweet moments, but the highlight of the event was the Nobel laureate J.M.Coetzee's readings of excerpts from his upcoming novel, The Childhood of Jesus. Accompanied on stage during his final reading by a Japanese reader---the dashing Japanese actor, Shosuke Tanihara,whose golden voice had that familiar baritone urgency shared by many narratorsof Japanese television documentaries covering UFOs, ghosts, and prehistoricsubaquatic dinosaurs---Mr. Coetzee's eloquent and poignant reading reallybrought the event to a touching finale.
Perhaps the next installation could see the participation of other luminaries as well, such as Haruki Murakami,David Mitchell,Roland Kelts,Banana Yoshimoto and Randy Taguchi (of Outlet and Fujisan fame 😊). But all in all I had a giddy time, feeling like a kid lost in a candy store. Thank you, Japan Foundation, for making it happen. The team led by DavidKarashima---an accomplished translator himself---did an absolutely marvelous job.
Be sure to check out Tokyo-based journalist, ChristopherJohnson's take on the event as well. He provides great context.
As a child, Mount Fuji was an exciting getaway to me, an escape into the
green and airy wilderness far removed from the orderly, plastic confines of Yokohama city. My father, a free-spirited, traveling bard wearing the guise of a
family man and silk exporter, would usher my brother and me on a sunny Saturday
into the back seat of a brown, four-door Toyota Crown, as my mother prepared
some “grasshopper-green” chutney sandwiches. Once she and the tasty morsels made
their way to the passenger seat, my father would sing out a hymn to praise the
Overseeing One in the sky prior to revving the engine and driving off
southbound toward Shizuoka prefecture, home to the world’s most flavorful green
tea leaves and Mount Fuji.
To pass the time on our two-hour
road trip, Father would be crooning Indian classical ditties called ghazals, which were mostly philosophical
musings about life's vagaries and the despair arising from self-pitying broken
hearted romances. They seemed more fitting as soundtracks to sandstorm-swept
desolate expanses of the Khyber Pass than to the straight and relatively narrow
route down the sanitary tree-lined expanses of the Tomei Express Highway, one
of Japan's many visible signs of the “economic miracle” that was gaining
momentum back in those halcyon days. But as we approached the countryside,
where the air was fresher, cooler, and crisper, Father would start singing one
Bollywood number that served as the perfect soundtrack to the majestic sight of
a rather unearthly mountain looming in the distance.
The song was from a Hindi movie titled Aa Gale Lag Jaa (Come,
Embrace Me) and the tune continues to occupy a special place in my heart as
a song that celebrates the warm and fuzzy winsome magic, the sacredness, the
“material and immaterial” beauty of Mount Fuji, Japan's one and only
sacred peak that not only inspired monks and artists of yore, but also my
father to faithfully salute the mountain every time he caught a glimpse of it,
even while driving us kids to school.
Many years later, after doing my
time as mostly a rush-job hack translator of marketing proposals, I came upon
the good fortune of working for TranNet, a literary translation agency that
used to be headquartered in Jinbocho, the heart of Tokyo's used-book stores and
publishing houses, and came across the front cover of a book titled Fujisan. It
featured a caricature of a wide-eyed girl, rendered in a style that was a cross
between the one seen in a shojo manga
and the psychedelic pop art style of Yellow Submarine. For this fan of Alice in
Wonderland, the Beatles, and Haruki Murakami, it was love at first sight. I instantly
envied the person who would get to translate this beauty and wished a plague on
his or her house before moving on with my work-a-day life.
So you can imagine the Jolt-Cola
surprise I experienced when that person I cursed turned out to be myself in the
end, as AmazonCrossing, Amazon Publishing’s imprint dedicated to international
literature, came knocking on my door. At the time I was just grateful that I
actually still had a door that anyone could knock on. Really. It was such an
exciting and woozy experience. But once the contract was signed, I was able to still
my mind and spend some of the most memorable moments in my life up to now——about
four months of it, in fact, losing myself in Ms. Randy Taguchi’s rarefied world
populated by a disillusioned ex-cult follower trying to reengage with society
while seeking refuge in the brightly lit, tabula rasa purity of the convenience
store; three erudite teenagers desperate to catch a glimpse of the other side
before they crossed their shadow lines into adulthood; a cynical Adonis who
discovers truth and beauty in the life of a mysterious, aged hoarder residing
near Mount Fuji; and a young nurse filled with remorse for working at an
abortion clinic. I pretty much lived and breathed these characters, drawing on
my method acting know-how I acquired during my college years to transmute them
from one world to another. In short, I was acting on the page, with the great literary
alchemists at AmazonCrossing illuminating the stage. In the end, my method
acting had taken on an epic earnestness, immersing me so deeply into the world
of Randy’s stories that I’m convinced I was climbing Mount Fuji together with
the characters in the final story, Child of Light, as I was translating. You
see, by the time I finished, my right foot was sprained and I had to limp my way
to the clinic with a walking cane in hand. No joke. But I was elated nonetheless.
Another blessing that transpired
in the course of translating Fujisan was actually getting to meet Randy
herself. It’s one thing to think you know the author through her work and
completely another to know her in person. But she was as amazing in person as
she was on the page. In fact, she struck me as a modern-day Alice, full of
wonder and curiosity, and very open to my out-of-the blue, leftfield suggestions.
I was also thrilled to find out that Randy and I were pretty much on the same
wavelength, discovering that, just like myself, she’s a card-carrying fan of
David Lynch. Once that was settled, the direction for my translation in terms
of tone and style was pretty much set in stone I think.
Without a doubt, Randy’s stories
prioritize characterization over plot, just as many works of contemporary Japanese
short fiction do. Perhaps this stylistic trait can be traced back to Japanese
literature’s haiku roots, where the entire enterprise is geared towards
stimulating your imagination than in delivering a sense of narrative closure: the
staple of the three-act blockbuster fiction. But even so, in translating
Fujisan I was also reminded of what Aristotle said about plot; namely that a
good one is where the character is plot and vice versa. In this sense, I
believe Fujisan——one of many of Randy’s works of deep explorations into the
psyche of modern-day Japan, which is really a festive confluence of both
Eastern and Western memes in my humble opinion——paints a vivid character
portrayal of a majestic, snow-capped, ethereal mountain, sending out life-affirming
signals to all who seek answers, gently singing, “Come, Embrace Me.”
Here's the legendary musician's take on the richness of Japanese onomatopoeia, which, as he so rightly says, has the power to not only describe literal sounds, but states of mind as well.
"Can you imagine? States of mind have sounds?! Concepts have sounds!? Who’d ‘a thunk it? Is this a kind of synesthesia? So therefore a musical composition (musique concrete, most likely) COULD be a real map or analogy or model of a progression of concepts——a sonic map of a progression of thoughts…sometimes proceeding one after another, in traditional logical fashion, and sometimes overlapping, rushing onward, and sometimes happening simultaneously——as sounds certainly do, and maybe thoughts too? Each sound corresponds to an idea or concept, and then logically (or not) leads on to the next…eventually arriving as some sonic/psychic conclusion. Or merely an ending."
Uki Uki
My state of mind after reading Mr. Byrne's bang-on take on the sonic scope andpossbilities of the Japanese language was jiin—the sound of stillness that envelopes you when you're moved beyond words. And when that happens, it's time to let yourself go and stop making sense, right?
Here are two great destinations you can check out if you'd like to dive deeper into the surreal musicality of the Japanese language.
Along with anime and manga, contemporary Japanese literature continues to grow in global appeal. While this is hardly surprising, considering that Japan’s literary landscape is home to such international luminaries as Haruki Murakami and Banana Yoshimoto, producers of popular culture in Japan tend to be lukewarm about promoting their intellectual properties overseas. As pointed out by Mr. Roland Kelts, the author of Japanamerica, a highly acclaimed treatment of the layered relationship between Japanese pop culture and the American cultural mainstream, this reluctance appears to be symptomatic of a nationwide, isolationist trend, coined "the Galapagos syndrome."
Nevertheless, a growing appetite across the world for works of literature from Japan that go beyond the usual Zen and martial arts fare are prompting a good number of the doubters in the J-Lit world to think again. Enter TranNet, a literary translation agency based in Tokyo whose primary focus is to promote the works of Japanese authors to a broader international audience. To this end, in addition to attending book fairs on behalf of the authors they represent, they have been circulating an email newsletter to around 1,800 overseas publishing firms in fifteen countries to help expose them more directly to the diverse world of Japanese publishing.
Some of the works TranNet is currently promoting include Hajime Yorozu's The Art of Pinching a Seat on a Train, a how-to guide drawing on the powers of psychoanalysis to help you become a better seat hunter;
Fujisan, a collection of four short stories by Randy Taguchi reflecting four different views of the iconic Mt. Fuji;
Tengu, by Keiichi Michihira, a mystery thriller revolving around an investigative reporter's quest to unearth the truth behind a series of murders believed to have been committed by a creature of mythical lore known as Tengu;
Live with Meaning/Die with Passion by Fumitada Naoe, a moving account of the author’s life-affirming odyssey from a poverty-stricken boy in an Asian shantytown to a business superstar in Japan. Featuring poignant photographs that offer glimpses into the human condition, and translated by yours truly, this work has been released by One Peace Books, a US publisher of “visually compelling” literature.
Tengu and Fujisan may soon be released under the AmazonCrossing imprint, which aims to redress the current dearth of literature in translation in the anglophone world. Hopefully, with TranNet also in the fray, the Galapagosization of Japan may become a thing of the past sooner than expected.
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by Fumitada Naoe, a moving account of the author’s life-affirming odyssey from a poverty-stricken boy in an Asian shantytown to a business superstar in Japan. Featuring poignant photographs that offer glimpses into the human condition, and translated by yours truly, this work has been released by One Peace Books, a US publisher of “visually compelling” literature.
