The March 11 (“3/11”) earthquake and tsunami disaster striking Japan has brought into sharp relief the basic resilience and sense of unity of the Japanese people. Whatever the faults of Japan, this is one of Japan’s underlying strengths. Japan’s history includes a lot of respect for nature, in part because nature’s fury is so regularly beheld  through typhoons, earthquakes, tsunamis, and so forth. Resilience is  therefore a virtue well suited to Japan.

Resilience in society means coming together for a common purpose. This is by no means a trait unique to Japan; whatever their other divisions, Arabs have an ancient tradition of hospitality that suits a desert people. Japan has an ancient tradition of coming together as a society to rebuild. This includes a high level of social organization. Westerners are familiar with Japan’s famous rallying around government relief efforts and emergency support services, but that is only what can be done in the first hours and days.

As great as the suffering from  the earthquake and tsunami are across the eastern edge of the Touhoku region (Touhoku: lit. “North-Eastern”), the Fukushima nuclear disaster stands out because, quite simply, it’s hard to think of rebuilding when the disaster is still ongoing.  It may be a slow burn rather than a “meltdown” right now, but radioactively speaking, the region is still far too hot for the residents’ comfort.

Fukushima City is in the relative north of the southernmost prefecture of Touhoku.

Since this is a regional disaster in terms of degree, even though the aftershocks can be felt throughout the entire country, events like Comiket (for “Comic Market” verbally mashed together) are still ongoing. In preparation for the next one, in December (official site here), more than one self-published manga has arisen to speak out about the trials and difficulties of the people affected by the “3/11” disaster.

Through art, the resilience of Japanese culture expresses itself,  but it is not an individual expression: it is a call to arms for society to unite after the disaster, not just during it. That,  after all, takes more work, and is a longer-term process.  Of course, for the people directly affected the most, it is still very much an ongoing disaster.  Through manga, certain writers are working to keep these events fresh in Japanese minds outside the Touhoku region.

Some are even working towards English translations of their works to further spread awareness about the tsunami, earthquake, and nuclear plant disaster aftermath to the rest  of the world. I have mentioned it before, but I am helping one group in such an effort. I think the sensationalist, low detail Western media can benefit from being offset by cultural works created by people directly affected.  These are voices that should be heard.

Society coming together is not just a physical act. It is a social and spiritual one. Even so, there are many practical things that will need to be done to support the disaster victims. Over time, I intend to do more to provide tangible assistance in cooperation with Japanese people (or 日本人、nihonjin) themselves, because building bridges across the language and cultural barriers is a large part of what I learned Japanese for. Now is the time to go from theory to practice.

Even so, what we can all do, spiritually, is give our moral support, and that is something I do very freely in this instance.

For example:

頑張って、日本！

(Hang in there, Japan!)

みんなが応援しますよ。

(We’re all rooting for you.)

May Japan recover and grow even more vibrant, as it has done many times before. It won’t be easy – it never is – but rising from disaster is a human trait that,  as a human being, I choose to take pride in.  – J

A fair bit of what I have translated professionally (in the past) is what might be called pulp fiction, manga and “light novels” that fit neatly into popular culture. However, the Japanese publishing industry is both large, and intensely competitive. When only the strong survive, the general quality available improves accordingly.

I think that Japan has always had a strong storytelling culture. It is hardly alone in this, but the rise of broad-based literacy propelled local mythology into national lore. Once Japan’s nationalistic/ WWII phase was fully resigned to history, and Japan was finally recovering economically and spiritually, manga and, still in its early strides, anime, rose to deliver broad-based entertainment to the masses… but have never displaced the hon (本), or book. Indeed, more and more highly successful anime are now adapted from successful books, giving them a strong plot and a built-in audience.

A manga I have just begun to read is called Cage of Eden. If I was to summarize it in one sentence, I would call it a cross between Lost and Jurassic Park. That is, Japanese high school students returning from a field trip stranded after a mysterious plane crash on an apparently uncharted island filled with prehistoric, and deadly, wildlife.

You can do this in a black and white manga for immensely less cost than a big budget movie. The only limit is the finite number of pages a chapter can bear and the creativity of the manga-ka (and his or her staff). The tools are roughly the same for everyone, but it’s what you do with them that sets the great storytellers apart.

Anyway, I just thought I’d write a few things about it. – J

Rejecting A Restrictive View

In reading an article in the Japan Times about popular culture in Japan, the article takes a position that is overtly or covertly taken by many purported conveyors of wisdom about Japan: the position that popular culture didn’t really exist until 400 years ago, when Izumo no Okuni single-handedly invented it.

The article proceeds to state:

She launched it. Popular culture before her is an oxymoron. Japanese culture was ancient, elegant, stately, nuanced, refined, classical, exclusive.

The rude masses had no part in it. They had their entertainments, circuslike and bawdy, courtesy of wandering musicians, dancers, ballad chanters, puppeteers, acrobats, swordsmen, animal trainers and the like, but if culture implies something transcending mere boisterousness, little of this qualified.

In other words, yes, there were wandering musicians, dancers, ballad chanters, puppeteers, acrobats, swordsmen, animal trainers and the like, but this wasn’t, you know, culture or anything.

Let’s try a little thought experiment.

Hold one of your hands out straight forward, palm down. Either hand will do, but don’t use both, or you can’t scroll down the next few lines. Your hand should be parallel to the floor or ground.

Now, look at an object (even the floor) below the level of your hand, and grimace and glare at it.

Did your hand magically rise higher?

No? It didn’t? Really?

Scorning that which is “beneath” you does not raise you higher; it only provides the illusion that there is nothing beneath you that matters.

Now, I love the stories about Izumo no Okuni. Having said this, the idea that no culture worth mattering graced the lower classes before her is a massive, enormous conceit.

Chronicler Bias

There is a trend in history where we take the attitude that nothing important mattered unless someone wrote it down. This skews history in favor of what a bunch of cloistered monks write behind stone walls. It shortchanges human life and reduces it to a set of things deemed “important,” while shortchanging events that did not suit the monks’ political agenda.

Why does so much of Europe’s history exalt grandeur in kings and emphasize unity and aggrandizement of the state? Because that helps monks. It is also what kings want to hear, but more importantly, it helps monks. So monks wrote it.

Similarly, the stance that Japanese culture was either a) massively stale, b) “fun” culture didn’t exist until 400 years ago because what “fun” culture existed doesn’t count, is an elitist fiction which helps a particular crowd. I’m sure Noh and Kabuki performers just love this reading of history, but it really comes down to this proposition:

This is the idea that if it wasn’t written in a book, and it wasn’t presented on a stage like Shakespearian plays, it’s not really popular culture.

The author tries to essentially make kabuki into the otaku bait of the 1600’s, the forerunner of anime and manga.

I hate to lecture, but as culture goes, every “genius” stands on the shoulders of giants. What would Shakespeare have been without the myths of Avalon and King Arthur? What would he have been without the writings of the Romans? What would he have been without a rich culture in locales across Europe, the stages upon which Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet fictionally played out?

Acting like Okuni invented dance performance is really conceited. I grant that she brought dance performance to a stage where even the upper classes, including people who would seriously write about it in a recently unified nation, would see it. In other words, she brought those bawdy entertainments to the upper classes, rather than civilizing the lower classes.

Also, it’s very difficult for me to accept the notion that during the late Warring States Period, there was some sort of dearth of entertainment going on. It’s just that this entertainment would have been on a warlord fiefdom by warlord fiefdom basis. More importantly, no one wrote about it to that writer’s satisfaction, so we don’t care.

I find this attitude to be itself cultural poverty.

The Power of the Niche

See, the real problem with this attitude is that it takes the stance that mass entertainment is popular culture, and mass entertainment alone.

This would be taking the attitude that anime that is not Dragon Ball Z, Naruto, Bleach, and Mobile Suit Gundam, is not popular culture, and is not, in fact, really culture at all.

What a poverty of imagination!

Niches are where rich details are legion. They foster character growth, interesting and bold writing and plot ideas, and nurture aggressive writing that takes chances. Much fails, but what really succeeds often breaks into the mainstream, strengthened from trial by fire with fans acting as an error-checking and beta testing service, their very existence often encouraging an attention to detail that shocks a mainstream audience.

If I had been studying Japanese culture in 1604, I would not have gone to see Okuni alone. I would have made a very explicit and thorough effort to see those wandering musicians, dancers, ballad chanters, puppeteers, acrobats, swordsmen, animal trainers, and the like, myself.

And I would have called it a fantastically rich culture, even while noting the dawn of a true popular culture over and above that which already existed and already provided the foundation upon which this popular culture would be built.

For one example, I humbly present one of my own posts on Yuki Onna, who became a fixture of popular culture, but who long preceded her introduction to popular culture in Japanese folklore.

Yakuwari (役割、やくわり)

A yakuwari can be a duty, a role, or a part to play. The first kanji can be read as “of use,” which is a concept used in service (for if you are of use to the Emperor, you serve him and his interests). The second kanji is emphatically read as divide, as if splitting a log in two. Consequently, if this is a part, it is a part created through the division of labor.

Yaku (役), The Suffix

When we speak of such-and-such yaku, we speak of such-and-such role. This can apply to the theater, but linguistically speaking, life is just one big stage. This terminology can apply to real life quite well.

For example…

Senpai Yaku (先輩役)

This is playing the role of the senpai, the senior comrade. (Kanji: “Ahead” and “comrade”) Put at its most simplest, this would be the senior detective paired with a junior detective.

In Tokyo dialect, the “n” is pronounced “m” (for “sempai,”) but this is an issue of dialect (and ease of saying the word really fast). It is never written with an “m” in actual Japanese. It’s one of the relatively few cases of nouns not being pronounced as they are written.

Broadly speaking, it is the role of the senpai to engage superiors and peers on behalf of the team (even if it is a two-man team). This requires adequate speaking and leadership skills to say what needs to be said, and remain polite while doing it. This means being able to convey a lot of information in high level Japanese, when required.

Yet, even in Japan, the Western archetype of the senpai who bends the rules (a little) exists. The room for maneuver may not be very wide, but that is precisely why someone who knows and understands the barriers and the walls to each side can navigate the labyrinth of Japanese bureaucracy to attempt to lead things to a positive outcome.

Put another way, this is knowing what is black and white, and what is a gray area where initiative (usually discouraged by the system) can be invaluable – if it is done properly.

Kouhai Yaku (後輩役)

This is the role of the kouhai (spoken with a trailing “o” and a nearly mute “u”). Kanji: Behind + comrade. So, this is the junior comrade.

In a police drama, this would be the young detective paired with the veteran. As in American dramas, this can mean the rookie is either in need of adult supervision, or is far too accustomed to black and white cases. In either case, a dose of “the real world” (from the senior detective’s point of view) is delivered.

Fundamentally, the kouhai is not expected to be on the same level. Also one should keep in mind that this is as much a linguistic issue as a “respect hierarchy” one; you need to know how to address others, and dividing into senpai and kouhai is a quick and dirty, and therefore useful, way of organizing social roles in a simple and uncomplicated way.

The thing I really like to remember is that the senpai is expected to actually take care of his kouhai (singular or plural). In other words, the kouhai getting the coffee is not the limit of the relationship; it isn’t just lip service. Peers will not respect a senpai who doesn’t look after his people.

Conversely, the kouhai is expected to support the senpai in any way possible. This is because, where teams are concerned, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Japanese society never sees things in terms of just the individual, because society’s too big to squish things down to that (unless you’re a Shogun or something).

Otori Yaku (囮役)

An otori (囮、おとり) is simply, in English, a decoy. The kanji suggests a cage and the kanji for “become”; therefore, the deceived one becomes trapped. Thus, the concept of a decoy: that which lures and ensnares the enemy.

In many video games, this is an unofficial role, but in some, you can deliberately set someone to be a decoy and draw enemy fire from other members of a team in the field. The latter occurs in “Super Robot Wars: Scramble Commander”, a game I have played. Drawing off fire allows other units to attack uninhibited or charge up a special attack.

Thus, using a particular command from the battle tactics menu, under “Support,” allowed the player to assign someone to decoy duty. This is a temporary role, and decoy duty can be changed.

I use this to demonstrate that not all roles are permanent, but they are roles nonetheless.

Division of Labor

No one can be all things to all people. Japanese society thrives on this principle, and always has.

This is not to say that all of Japanese society was always based on castes. For instance, samurai were only made a permanent hereditary class at the end of the Sengoku Jidai (戦国時代), or Warring States Period, to end the upward mobility offered by chaos and strife (and therefore dampen the chaos and strife). Also, as shown in Seven Samurai, a samurai could cut off his top knot and shave his head and become a monk.

Put another way, if you couldn’t go up, you could go down.

Even so, many social roles are very long-term in nature. More to the point, Japanese society is comfortable with roles and collectively wants people to play them. This is an issue often decried by left-wing activists (as they would in any society with strong roles not defined by political value), but whether simply a matter of cultural sympathies or a strong, rarely changing societal mandate, the idea of roles is a big one to keep mental track of when dealing with Japanese culture.

Roles are not absolute, but they are important.

I only just saw this, but try this link and take a look. It’s by the Japan Foundation and well, I can’t draw and I can’t program in Flash by myself, so I don’t want to repeat anything that might be done here.

What I don’t know, being a hardened veteran, is how much this will help people in intermediate levels of learning. By all means, I want to hear how it works out for you. But that may be asking too much.

Still, enjoy the link and the site. It’s there to be used. Use it.

The above, and variations thereof (which differ in how they end), combine nozomu (望む,のぞむ), which is to desire, to want, and tokoro (所、ところ), which simply means place. (This tends to be a figurative place, more often than not.)

That last part is important, just like when I explained in a previous post how “mono” is a tangible thing and “koto” is an intangible thing.

So, a “nozomu tokoro” is a figurative place where you want to be.

Example

Random anime villain: “Fine then! I shall duel you one on one!!”

Random anime hero: “望むところだ！！”

In other words, (figuratively) that’s right where the hero wants to be.

Put a different way, it’s just how the speaker likes it. Or wants it, if you will.

Cultural Significance

This is a common retort/ rebuttal said in the heat of the moment of a challenge to a duel, or if not a duel, then certainly a fight. (These are not the same thing, but I’ll leave that for another post.)

So, the concept is a “manly” response, and must be understood as such. If spoken by a teenage wannabe hero, it’s spunky. If spoken by a mid-20’s veteran with pride the height of Mt. Everest, it is a verbal throwing down of the gauntlet.

Not that the spunky teenager doesn’t intend it as such, but it tends not to have the same weight.

Not Every Situation Is Formal

One of the real, visceral failings of standard Japanese courses is that they only teach the formal versions of verbs in the classroom. Granted, this is good for academic situations, the conduct of professional business, and interactions with public officials, and all students do need to learn formal versions. Nonetheless, students are tangibly harmed by the inability to use and understand plain and informal Japanese that is commonly employed in real life.

For our purposes, the classroom is not real life.

Anyone attempting to read manga to learn Japanese (and if you want raw material for this, just go to J-Comi; see previous post) absolutely will not succeed without a broad understanding of informal Japanese.

Furthermore, informal Japanese is necessary for full enjoyment of anime, film, and normal, everyday conversation with Japanese natives.

For businessmen, small talk is far more difficult to engage in without informal Japanese. Thus, a firm grounding in it is necessary.

The Really Basic Basics

基本の基本は (The basic basics) are like this:

行く　（いく） = iku, “To Go.” Root version/ plain, informal version.

行きます 　（いきます） = ikimasu, “To Go,” Formal version.

Let’s alter this slightly.

We’re going to use the volitional tense, which reads like “Let’s do X.”

学校に行こう。（がっこうにいこう。）= gakkou ni ikou. “Let’s go to school.”

This is the plain version.

学校に行きましょう。（がっこうにいきましょう。） = gakkou ni ikimashou. “Let’s go to school.”

This is the polite version.

The first version would be naturally spoken by young boys, but the second version would be naturally spoken by young girls.

This is such a basic, basic, fundamental comprehension issue that it is scarcely worth the time to even try to teach someone how to read manga if this is not covered.

It’s vital to understanding the feel and tone of Japanese dialog. If you have an interest in this, make it your business to learn the plain forms of Japanese verbs – starting with the most common ones that you will see. Besides, the plainest form is the root form, also known as the dictionary form. You do want to be able to look these up in a real dictionary at some point, don’t you?

– J

Come on, Hina! There's still hope!

Some Unrequested Advice

日本語版は英語の後

(Japanese version below English)

So, I was speaking to my Japanese culture interested friends about J-Comi. I had asked for an update if the site went up, and apparently it did. Also, it apparently has some issues that a quick explanation made obvious.

First, the site is using an affiliate purchase business model. That is, creators aren’t paid for clicks; they’re paid for purchases made through the clicks (and through the clicks only). This is a more difficult model and is making even testing the idea out a bit difficult, as Twitter posts shown on the site itself are suggesting.

Second, the site relies on a model of PDF downloads rather than on-site hosting. I really, really hate to mention this, but to use one example, the now shut down copyright violating site Onemanga.com had a business model more in tune with the public: making manga readable completely on-site, through a browser, through page by page clicking (or arrow keys). Other sites that I will not name still survive, and put ads for things like free-to-play MMO’s without unduly angering the reader.

Third, as these PDF’s are concerned, let me give my blunt opinion: low-quality PDF downloads are absolutely worthless for reading Japanese. They do have value in the strict sense of viewing the pictures but… people, this is not working. Low quality scans are often adequate for reading ENGLISH, but are completely inadequate for the human eye to properly read kana and kanji.

Now, the site does feature high quality PDF downloads, and these are just fine to read on my 1650×1050 resolution monitor without squinting or annoyance. I plan to catch up on Love Hina manga and intend to support Ken Akamatsu’s effort however I can.

While I’m not sure this is a problem, a site like this can only work if creators sign up. I know Ken said that creators could submit content easily by zip file, but I’m not sure if the sign-up process is smooth. Anyway, if that’s a problem, it needs solving.

Finally, patience is required. Don’t give up, Ken!!

So, in terms of solutions, here’s what my interested friends and I would suggest:

Go to a pay-per-click ad model. It’s better.

Implement on-site viewing.

Make it easy for creators to create accounts.

Don’t give up!!

That’s my advice.

日本語版、手短いに

（下手な日本語を許して下さい。－J)

アフィリエイトのモデルは厳しいね？Pay-per-clickは遥かに優秀な手段と思います。

元翻訳者として、悪いが、軽量版PDFは読む価値がない。英語の場合、出来るかもしれないが、かなと漢字の場合、読めないよ、普通な人にとって。日本語版の価値はゼロです。それに、米国版の画質低下を回避するべきです。

ちなみに、高解像度PDFは全く問題なし。私も喜んで読みます。

真の問題は、サイトの必ず必要物がサイト内見る機能です。でないと、pay-per-clickモデルが出来ないよ。コンテンツを盗む人までサイト内見る機能とアドを混じる。そして、金を稼ぎます。プロのサイト、それぐらいを出来ないなら。。。未来がないかも。

是非、私はJ-Comiを全力でサポートします。武運を祈るぞ！

ちなみに、翻訳者が必要ならば、連絡して下さいね？（汗）

では、頑張って下さい。外人のファンも応援します。諦めないで！（＾＾）

真宮寺さくら

In Japanese, the family name is said first. Also, while romanized as Shinguji, a word processor would want “shinguuji.”

Sakura means cherry blossom (though it can also refer to the cherry tree). Shinguji here uses kanji at variance with the usual kanji used for this name; Shinguji is a real Japanese last name, but not in this form. These kanji mean true + shrine + temple. Since the Meiji Restoration, Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples have been set more cleanly apart than in the past.

The meaning of the name is thus, at once, the beauty of a cherry blossom and a repository of true Japanese cultural values.

And so it is.

A Video Game & Anime Heroine

Sakura Shinguji is the heroine at the heart of the Sakura Wars (“Sakura Taisen,” or サクラ大戦) franchise from game publisher and one-time console manufacturer Sega. The game series is not so much named after her as taking the theme of young, beautiful women battling against the forces of darkness.

At first, the series takes place in Tokyo. The era is the 1920’s. Although modified along the lines of so-called steampunk, that is, imaginary steam-based machines (powered, per se, by the spiritual power, or reiryoku (霊力), of the pilots where the members of the Flower Team (hanagumi, 花組) are concerned.

Raised in Sendai, Sakura is the daughter of a master swordsman who fought demons to protect the Empire years ago and paid with his life. A former comrade of his, now a rather old lieutenant general named Yoneda, calls upon her to join the Imperial Flower Assault Force (my translation – J), usually translated simply as Imperial Assault Force. (Japanese: Teikoku Kageki Dan (帝国華撃団), of which the middle kanji can mean “flower” or “petal.”)

This force is based out of Ginza in the Grand Imperial Theater, with the troupe of all-female stars of the stage under a name that is pronounced the same way, but with kanji making it out to be an opera troupe only. Thus, it is a secret organization devoted to defense of the Empire, but with recruits from around the world.

Old Cultural Values In A New World

In the first game, and at the start of the related manga and anime plots, Sakura is an optimistic, 19 year old girl who is getting her first brush with the modern world. Compared to mid-1920’s rural Sendai, Tokyo is a shockingly huge and busy place; even trains, steam-based automobiles (since this is steampunk), and the crush of people, are all overwhelming. To Sakura, this is a world of wonder, something to be embraced rather than feared.

While Sakura has dreams of starring on the big stage herself, she is rather clumsy, both figuratively and literally. This is not because of a lack of physical aptitude, but rather, failures of concentration; it’s such a new world, she’s still lost in it.

Sakura is earnest and sincere, though she has a mischievous sense of humor. She is a strong believer in teamwork and helping people and is, therefore, quite idealistic. However, she has a strong will that manifests itself at times of crisis, standing up for her friends, her country, and her own love and admiration for recently anointed team leader Ensign Ichiro Ogami.

Budding Mistress of the Sword

Aside from her strong taste in kimono (clothing), which is in the wafuku (“Japanese clothing”) style, she inherits the Hokushin Itto Ryu sword style from her father, Kazuma Shinguji. (“Itto” would be for 一刀 or “single blade.” Miyamoto Musashi’s legendary two-sworded style was known as “nito ryu.” I am using normal romanizations here. – J)

Sakura also inherits a great amount of inner spiritual power, combining to make her a devastating opponent. Even having barely set foot in Tokyo, she briefly made the newspapers (without her identity being revealed) by taking down one of the sorcery-powered humanoid machines of the evil force Kuro no Sukai when one entered a park and menaced civilians there. She took this opponent down in the flesh, with only herself and her katana, the named, spirit sword Arataka (“Wild Falcon.”)

Thus, aside from being very easy on the eyes, she has practical combat power worthy of a main heroine in her own video game/ manga/ anime.

Sakura as Cinderella.

Dreams Of The Stage

Sakura is also an immense fan of not only opera and theater in general, but romantic plays such as Cinderella. Indeed, Sakura is often trying to practice the lines in Cinderella to truly perform well as the character.

Aside from teaching cultural values and to be more than a secret military outfit, this is training in discipline, concentration, footwork, and coolness under pressure. Of course, being new on the stage, Sakura sometimes has… let us say, incidents, that create some friction with other members of the troupe/ team at times.

They’re all part of her enduring charm.

A Cultural Icon

While the heyday of the Sakura Wars franchise has passed us by, Sakura Shinguji is an instantly recognizable cultural icon who seems to embody all of the best of old Japanese cultural values in a beautiful, approachable, kind, gentle, and very human vessel. She presents not only a femininity that is innately appealing to the male spirit, but is an outstanding swordswoman (post-Meiji, we cannot call her samurai but this is simply a technicality) whose faith, devotion, and fierce spirit make her a dependable ally and teammate.

You can learn a lot about Japanese cultural values just by looking at her a little. This is why I have helpfully provided several images… for cultural education, of course. Yes, for educational purposes. What else could they be for…

Trivia

• Loves pretty much anything romantic.
• Frightened by lightning (traumatic childhood experience).
• Electricity is fine, though.
• Panics at the mere sight of a mouse.

I decided to use something out of Naruto manga for educational purposes. I mean, why not? It may not be high literature, but it can be used to show little pieces of the Japanese language.

Audio Version

[audio:https://jp.learnoutlive.com/media/Naruto%20Yudan%20Taiteki.mp3]download mp3