Japanamerica, Roland Kelts Feature, and Monkey Business
Remember when I was telling you about hitting all the cons in Seattle in one weekend? Well, the biggest of these was SakuraCon, a huge anime-and-all-things-pop-and-Japanese conference in downtown Seattle in April. And I got to see someone I had corresponded with (I’d read his book, his interviews, even an article he wrote for Japanese Vogue – and had even planned to quote him in an article about Matthea Harvey some years ago…) but had never met in person.
Roland Kelts is the author of Japanamerica, a terrific exploration of the worlds of Japanese pop culture and their impact on American audiences. I’ve seen Roland interview Hayao Miyazaki – a fabulous experience – at Berkeley, and his interview with Haruki Murakami in the very first issue of A Public Space was the reason I bought the issue. I had the opportunity to sit down for coffee with Roland Kelts when he was in town for SakuraCon, and ask him a few questions.
Jeannine Hall Gailey: Roland, I had so much fun reading your book, Japanamerica, particularly because we share a love of Hayao Miyazaki’s work and writers like Haruki Murakami. Can you tell me your recommendations for three writers from Japan (besides the awesome Murakami) you think more Americans should be reading – they can be fiction writers or poets!
Roland Kelts: I would start with Yoko Ogawa. Her elegiac sensibility and normal depictions of abnormalities makes her an elegant distant cousin of Haruki Murakami, as does her simplistic seeming, eerily penetrating prose. I also like Hideo Furukawa, who writes like the world has already ended and we ought to accept the aliens we have already become–to others and ourselves. Finally, I’ve recently been enthralled by the work of Hiromi Kawakami, whose sense of neighborhoods and their absurdities, and our desperate need for them, resonates deeply in a world gone mad with so-called ‘globalization.’
JHG: You know I’m a huge fan of Miyazaki’s movies, particularly because of his strong female heroines like Princess Mononoke and Nausicaa and his haunting post-apocalyptic landscapes. Do you have a favorite anime series or movie you’d like to share? And why do you love it?
RK: There are so many series that are uneven but addictive, as you know. For films, I particularly like Satoshi Kon’s Millenium Actress, Makoto Shinkai’s Five Centimeters Per Second, Mamoru Hosoda’s The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, and that enduring classic, Isao Takahata’s Grave of the Fireflies. These are all stunning examples of how far Japan has taken animation.
JHG: You’re launching – and co-editing – a new magazine called Monkey Business this week in New York. What is the mission of the magazine, and why do you think people should read it and subscribe immediately?
RK: The mission of the magazine is actually quite humble: To introduce to Americans and other English-language readers the joys and edges of contemporary Japanese writing. Manga is equally thrilling, of course, but manga and anime artists are not the only creative Japanese giving us a vision of our fresh and daunting world. Americans who want to know what our new world will look, feel and smell like would do well to dip into the cauldron of contemporary Japan, a country that experienced apocalypse and lived to tell the tales.
And here’s where you can pre-order your very own copy of Monkey Business, the exciting new literary magazine:
http://www.apublicspace.org/pre-order_monkey_business.html
The manga and interviews alone make this a totally awesome package, but the short fiction and poetry are pretty wonderful, as well!
And, from A Public Space:
Fascinating interview with Motoyuki Shibata here about American fiction’s impact on Japanese writers:
http://www.apublicspace.org/look_heres_america_a_co.html
Big Poetry Giveaway Winner, Redheaded Stepchildren, Upcoming Feature with Roland Kelts
Happy May Day, readers!
The winner of the Great Poetry Giveaway of this blog (chosen by random number generator) is Matthew Thorburn! Congrats, Matthew! I’ll be sending two books – my Becoming the Villainess and Anna Rabinowitz’s Present Tense – your way as soon as you send me your snail mail address!
I would be remiss if I did not direct your attention to a magazine I’ve always loved the concept of, Redheaded Stepchild Magazine, which only publishes work that has been turned down by other magazines. My poem, “A True Princess Bruises,” appears in their Spring Issue, along with wonderful work by writers like Dorothy Barresi and Alex Grant!
I also wanted to announce that I’ll be posting an interview feature with Roland Kelts, the author of Japanamerica and editor of new lit mag Monkey Business, in the next couple of days, so keep your eyes on this space!
Had as wonderful a weekend as possible for my birthday – tiptoed (mostly unassisted on my own two feet a miracle in itself if you’d been in physical therapy with me even two weeks ago) through some tulips, and in a record-dreary April, actually had sunshine all three days I was up in Skagit Valley! La Conner’s Tulip Festival is really something if you’ve never been up this way. Here are a couple of pics – one is the view from our cabin on the water, another of tulips:
More About Japan
And here’s a little bit about risk and probability and what we can learn from Fukushima – thanks for the link from Dorianne Laux.
The bottom line is, for companies, human costs are usually not as important as profits, and therefore, nuclear stuff isn’t built as safely as it should be.
Roland Kelts writes a beautiful meditation here on how physical distance from the tragedy has been affecting him: http://japanamerica.blogspot.com/2011/04/disaster-and-distance.html
Disaster narratives have been woven into the fabric of Japan’s art – ancient prints of giant waves hanging in museums, numerous tsunami-savior stories told to children, stone tablets set in the ground warning people not to build below a certain point. The famous Gamera and Godzilla movies, where the monsters were metaphors all about the ravages of the nuclear threat. I heard several versions of the following story, called “The Burning Rice Fields,” while I was researching “She Returns to the Floating World.” Here is one version of it I found online. The version I originally heard involved some self-sacrificing cooperation between an elderly farmer and a fox, and it inspired this poem from “She Returns to the Floating World.”:
“The Fire of Foxes”
In another story a man lights a fox on fire to save others, to warn them of tsunami. The fox is a willing partner, burning brightly in the night to tell the village and his own people to flee. The men and foxes see the fire and run. The water comes and swallows the burning fox, the old farmer who lit him, and all the farmland. But the families of fox and man are safe. The rice smolders underwater. The fox is rewarded with eternal life; his eyes and tail become stars in the sky. At least that is the version I have learned by heart.
Why I Write About Japan, Part II with Links
My Little Brother Learns Japanese
—For Mike, Watashi wa otouto ga daisuki desu.
In college, he learns to read
right to left,
practicing with Manga,
learns Kanji picture-words:
how the word for heart
can also mean indigo blue.
He learns to conjugate
verbs with no future,
and reads poetry that does not
begin with “I.”
He learns about weather reports
of sakura zensen,
the advance of cherry-blossom fronts
and finds that falling blossoms
can also mean dead soldiers.
He knows the word for bird
by its feet, and knows
a village connects hands to trees.
Little brother is a student,
and older sister
is a woman going to the city.
He learns in Japanese fairy tales
that siblings, not spouses,
are often saviors;
the older sister brings the dead brother
back to life
over and over again.
Continued from my previous post. My little brother minored in Japanese during his study of computer science at a Cincinnati Jesuit university called Xavier University, and it was here he encountered a wonderful, enthusiastic professor named Dr. Ayako Ogawa. My brother would tell stories of how she talked about the time she kept a pet raccoon (maybe a tanuki, or a Japanese variation on the raccoon that in English translates to “raccoon dog”) or how she would spend a class explaining how to do a tea ceremony correctly or the importance of handwriting to the Japanese written language. Like my high school European History teacher who would give us excerpts of books like “Sugar and Power,” photocopy 15th century versions of “Little Red Cap,” and discuss Machiavelli’s The Prince and “Dress for Success” in the same lecture, Dr. Ayako strove to communicate to her students more than just the language; she brought in art, story, traditions like flower arrangement, all aspects of Japanese culture that might help illuminate her world for an American student. She would eventually become a family friend and we would follow her stories of adventure (even now, she is an enthusiastic traveler.) Dr. Ayako graciously read versions of “She Returns to the Floating World” and forwarded them to her husband and children as well, to get their feedback. She’s written her own book too! Here’s a brief profile of her from a Cincinnati paper.
My brother and I have lived in different states since he started college, so we often correspond about things like which anime movies he recommends and his adventures in Xiao Lin Do martial arts and Kendo practice. I started watching all of Hayao Miyzaki’s films and researching his life and work, and discovered his interest in children’s literature. I researched Japanese folk tales, especially interested in the one that helped inspire Miyazaki’s work on Nausicaa, called “The Princess Who Loved Insects.” The most fascinating discovery I made was a recurring instance of older sisters who acted as protectors and heroes to their little brothers; the only times I’ve seen that archetype in Western folk tales were in “Hansel and Gretel” – in which Gretel, not Hansel, kills the witch that holds them captive and “Jorinde and Joringel,” in which the sister struggles to free the brother from enchantment – and, of course, the complex “Snow Queen” mythology, which has a variation in which a young girl travels to free a boy who is a love interest, and ends up overthrowing the evil Snow Queen.
I started to become interested in the scholarly research on Japanese folk tales, and stumbled upon a second-hand copy of Hayao Kawai’s “The Japanese Psyche: Major Motifs in the Fairy Tales of Japan.” Similar to scholarly works I’d read on Grimms’, but with more focus on Japanese religion and Jungian psychology, it was a fascinating springboard into understanding Japanese folk tales (and had a wonderful appendix containing some folk tales I was not able to locate in English elsewhere.) I’d also begun reading Japanese fiction, such as Haruki Murakami, Osamu Dazai, and researching older books such as the Tales of Genji and The Pillow Book of Sei Shonogan. I read Roland Kelts’ Japanamerica, about the cross-cultural influence of Japanese pop on America and vice versa, with fascinating insights into anime in particular. My own writing increasingly began to reflect my research and interests, watching anime series like “Fooly Cooly” and “The Fullmetal Alchemist” and trying to learn a little Japanese so I could read some of the work in the original language. Right after “Becoming the Villainess” came out, I wrote the bulk of what became She Returns to the Floating World.
As the scope of the disaster in Japan continues to expand, I am thinking of my friends over in Toyko right now, and of the little things I can do to support them. It is easy to feel helpless an ocean away. The cherry blossoms have started to bloom. Besides Doctors Without Borders and the Red Cross, I’m looking for good suggestions as to where to direct people for donations. Northwest Medical Teams, one of my favorite local charities that sends medical teams with supplies out to places in need, has a donation page up.
More links:
Where are the Robots? The reasons robots haven’t been used at Japanese nuclear disaster sites
Japan Disaster and Anime Fans
Blurbs and Friends’ Good News
Interested in reading the blurbs for the back of She Returns to the Floating World?
Well, just wait for a second. First of all, let me congratulate my good friend Felicity Shoulders about her Nebula Award nomination for her story in Asimov’s, “Conditional Love.” Pretty kick-ass for a girl who just celebrated her 30th birthday, right? You can listen to her story in podcast form here.
OK, now for the blurbs. I’m so excited, particularly because all these blurbers are personal heroes of mine (if you’re a fan of studies of Japanese pop culture, check out Roland Kelts’ book; if you’re interested in some fantastic editing of fairy-tale lit and fairy-tale-related art, check out Terri Windling’s work; Sandra and Aimee are of course amazing poets!) Soon, I’ll be able to post the cover, which is so looking awesome.
Blurbs for She Returns to the Floating World…
“I deeply admire the skill with which Jeannine Hall Gailey weaves myth and folklore into poems illuminating the realities of modern life. Gailey is, quite simply, one of my favorite American poets; and She Returns to the Floating World is her best collection yet.”
—Terri Windling, writer, editor, and artist (editor, The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror series and collections like The Armless Maiden, as well as The Endicott Studio)
“Kin to the extraordinary pillow book of tenth-century Japanese court poet Sei Shōnagon, Jeannine Hall Galley has created her own collection of extraordinary myths, fables, and folktales for the twenty-first century . Fed by scholarship, a passion for animé, and a singular, brilliant imagination, this poet designs female heroes who challenge and transform our quotidian lives.”
—Sandra Alcosser, author of Except by Nature
“The poems in Gailey’s highly anticipated second collection mesmerize the reader with its glimmering revisitations of myth that explore love and desire via the most unexpected conduits: foxes, robots, and the “kingdom of animé.” She Returns to the Floating World is a captivating gathering of poems written with the rare but immense knowledge of (the) matters of the heart and the often-ecstatic natural world. Gailey illuminates our place within myth with stunning precision and the awareness of what it really means to be fully alive with the ones you love.”
—Aimee Nezhukumatathil, author of At the Drive-in Volcano and Lucky Fish
“These poems fuse figures and narratives from Japanese myths and folklore, Shinto spirits, philosophy and popular culture to explore the nexus between the spiritual and the sensual, places where the act of touching is both metaphorical and sometimes violently, painfully physical. Amid musings on the darker corners of Japan’s postwar legacy are flashes of the humor born of perseverance. Even Godzilla has a cameo.”
—Roland Kelts, author of Japanamerica
Now, to hunker down for a snow day tomorrow. And I’ve got books to review (Dana Levin’s Sky Burial and Erika Meitner’s Makeshift Instructions for Vigilant Girls – pretty great reading, don’t you think?)