Book Review: Dogs and Demons - more Demon than Dog

The book "Dogs and Demons - The Dark Side of Japan" by Alex Kerr is a rather grim expose on the problems seemingly endemic in (modern) Japan. Alex Kerr, a resident of Japan for some 35years, attempts to describe the often overlooked underside of Japan - no, not organized crime, but rather the problems that he sees as being self-censoring of both Japanese and in particular Japanophiles about Japan. From corruption, to lack of sophistication and technology, a destruction of any meaningful connection with the deep roots of Japanese culture combined with an 'infantiling' of the new popular culture, to an almost apocalyptic fascination with the burying of nature under a protective (sterile) sheath of concrete. And indeed, there is some truth and value in the points that the Kerr makes.

At one level, he identifies the waste of the wealth generated through the heady years of the 60's-80's, which was maintained even after the Japanese bubble burst in the 90's. Yet, Kerr's criticisms strike at a deeper vein. The books title, dogs and demons relates to a proverb that painting a demon is easy (any one can draw a demon), rather it's painting a dog that's hard... which he translates to a Japanese desire to distract and mis-direct Japanese self-belief through the obsessive building of monuments and superficial things whilst avoiding the harder reforms that would really improve the life of everyday Japanese.

Kerr's background is in the old, having worked for a Shinto-based sect in Japan, Oomoto, and having co-owned "traditional-focussed" tourist ventures and a seller of antiquities. And in a way his book is constantly touched by the sentimentalities of the Japan of old, as he imagined it. Yet his musings seem strangely contradictory; an example of which is that he at one point criticises Japan for the cancerous spread of cedar plantation forests (with all of the ensuing health problems they create); whilst at another point he rails at Japan for it's addiction to cheap building materials and having given up on using traditional (quality) wood construction methods in the millions of homes. How many forests would be needed for that? It is the gap between the what and the how that is most obvious in his books.

Indeed, I doubt any visitor to the cultural heart of Japan, Kyoto (also Kerr's home), could feel anything less than disappointment at the state of the city as a whole. A jumble of concrete, steel and cables, without design or style. The Kyoto of our dreams is hidden away, as if being subsumed by a blanket of concrete. This is modern Japan, and it can be a stark reality compared to dreams of Japan's traditional past.

Now I bought this book last year (and have only just read it)... thinking that it's good to get a balanced view of Japan, rather than only the view of someone that wishes to promote the good side. A noble intent; but alas, balanced is not a word that I would use to describe the book in any way. He takes an almost naive or blinkered view of the rest of the world, and especially from the perspective of how modern the West is. Hong Kong, Singapore, Malaysia and Thailand seem paragons of virtue in his perspective - as if the colonial vestiges were the backbone of their modern society.

Indeed, such is the strength of this one-eyed view of the inside and outside world that I initially thought, "ah, yet another disenchanted gaigokujin for whom the glamour of Japan has worn off - having some parting pot-shots at Japan as he heads for different shores" (Kerr is based half out of Thailand now). But the more I read, the less I believed that. He is passionate about Japan, but his writing seems more designed to meet the needs of the Japanese themselves. As if to say, wake up Japan - and see what you are doing to yourselves. Indeed, he wrote his first book in Japanese, for Japanese. And I can't help but feel that perspective remains. He has become a voice of the dispossessed, knowing something's been lost and longing for a different future. Yet, such focus detracts from the books message, undermining it's credibility as one anecdote after another is used as if to show the universality of the problems. He writes with passion, but not with intellectual rigour.

The disturbing message that I'm left with is, why? Kerr's Japan is a cultural desert, filled with plastic, neon and the failed monstrosities of monuments - built to divert attention from the fact that the country had sold it's soul for growth in GDP and manufacturing export. It's a place where corruption and incompetence rules, and where the Japanese people themselves have become automata designed to only consume and to provide the vast capital base for further economic abuse through mismanagement of the government. It is an unpleasant place - and one can't imagine why anyone would want to inhabit the world he creates.

Now the book was originally published in 2002 (also under the name Dogs and Demons: The Fall of Modern Japan)... and Japan's economic situation has not improved. Indeed, China has now surpassed Japan as the second largest economy, and with the disaster of March 11, things must have even taken a grimmer turn. It is perhaps under these circumstances that we should take a critical look at the real Japan, with the hope that from the wreckage a more environmental and internationalised country can be constructed. The fear is that, instead Japan might slip further into introspection and denial.

I have to say that book was not an easy read (for anyone that loves Japan); and Kerr's over-bearing biases and agenda reduce the potential impact of the book. Whilst parts made me angry (at his superficial analysis) - it also made me question why; why was I getting so emotional in response? In society we need the painful gadfly, to annoy us out of our comfortable stupor, and make us ask hard questions about our own beliefs. For that reason it's a useful book - but I could never say it was a great book... and one can't help but wonder, if indeed it isn't easier to paint the demon rather than the dog.

Book Review - Kappa by Akutagawa Ryūnosuke

Book Review - Kappa by Akutagawa Ryūnosuke

This is a rather odd choice for my first Japanese book review.... Kappa may not be a Japanese classic, yet it's author Akutagawa Ryūnosuke (1892 - 1927) is famous as one of the short-story authors of pre-WWII Japan. Kappa are Japanese river spirits or halflings (to misappropriate a Tolkein invention) that are famous for stealing children as well as their sexual proclivity. They are legendary figures of myth in Japan - and are known for their small primitive stature, lack of clothes and unusual saucer shaped depression on their head which must always be kept damp. Whilst primitive in external appearance however, they possess a deep culture and indeed can speak Japanese when they so desire.

Kappa sculpture from Jozankei, Sapporo

The book itself I would liken to a playful (and far less structured) Gulliver's Travels, with the protagonist recounting (whilst being visited in an institute for the insane) his adventure of finding Kappa-land one day. The short story is definitely satirical in nature, yet one can't quite pick the true target of that satire, with the bizarre Kappa-people both being the source of ridicule and yet also the measure of cultured sanity against which the Japanese are compared (and found wanting).

In the story the protagonist having accidentally fallen into Kappa-land becomes a part of their society, forming many friendships with Kappa during his stay... he discovers many of the alien customs and culture of the Kappa. Not least bizarre is the trait of Kappa of being asked by the father (prior to birth) if they wished to be born. Should the foetal Kappa decide they did not want birth then there spirit is released... A peculiar fatalism that sees the unemployed Kappa being killed for food; and where music is all but illegal... not to mention a very strange criminal code... but to find out you should read the book.

And it is this dark thread that pervades this story that is simultaneously light-heartedly nonsensical and yet cutting in it's dissection of Japan, or at least it's own creator. Akutagawa was indeed a troubled man, and an equally troubled author. His mother had become violently insane whilst he was a child, and as he grew to adulthood, it became increasingly obvious that he would share at least some of his mother's mental fragility. Whilst being on the vanguard of the new wave of Japanese authors (a strange combination of Western learned, yet deeply inspired by Japanese folklore) he never reached his full potential. With increasing hallucinations, introspection and fear that he would befall the illness that had struck his mother, he sadly took his life at the age of 35, the same year that Kappa was written. He left behind a wife and three children. Japanese literary history is replete with such sad, tragic stories.

Akutagawa Ryūnosuke (1892- 1927). Source:  Wikipedia)

Perhaps his most famous book was Rashōmon, his second story. Interstingly, the Kurosawa Akira movie of the same name was apparently largely based on another Akutagawa story called, In the Grove (Yabu no Naka).

Overall, I would say that Kappa will not inspire like Gulliver, nor will it leave you laughing at the jokes which I'm sure are centred too deeply in the Japan of the era. However, it's an interesting book and there's an interesting analysis of Akutagawa... who is intrinsically apart of each page of this book. In the book, once the protagonist manages to leave Kappa-land for the real world, he tries in vain to return. Despite being constantly visited by Kappa (whom no one else can see), in the end there is a sense of rapidly spiralling into insanity that was an all too real experience for the author himself.

Check out Amazon or Borders (in Australia) for prices and more info... though I have to say, strangely enough it's cheaper to buy the english translations in Japan (1155 yen... about $14 AUD) than it is to buy them here in Australia ($29 AUD). That's one reason why I always buy stacks of books when I go to Japan.

Language & Cultural Note: Japanese names - in Japan, family names come first, so in this case Akutagawa is the family name, and Ryūnosuke is the given name.