Lost In Translation

Cultural Conundrums: Recognition, Responsibility and Reproach

Kate Elwood has another interesting column in The Daily Yomiuri looking at Japanese culture:

I strive to adhere to the environmental three Rs of "reduce, reuse, recycle," in addition to the original educational three Rs of "reading, (w)riting and (a)rithmetic," but recently I've got my mind on another set of three Rs--recognition, responsibility and reproach. In his fascinating book "Credit and Blame," published in 2008, the late award-winning social scientist Charles Tilly argues that humans have a tendency to assign moral weight to life's events, assigning someone as the effective and deliberate agent of a good or bad outcome. As I read Tilly's thought-provoking and persuasive book, I kept thinking, Japan, Japan, Japan, although he does not mention the country. But since coming to Japan many years ago, I've experienced the notions of credit and blame on a whole new level.

As anyone who has learned a bit of the language knows, in Japanese there are all kinds of nifty ways embedded right into the language to assess who is responsible for what happened, and how the speaker feels about it. "Benefactives" first spring to mind--the "giving-receiving" verbs, like kureru, ageru and morau. Tagging on these verbs lets speakers show who should get acknowledgment for something beneficial that occurred and are often requisite in natural-sounding Japanese, adding something along the lines of "He/she/they is/are kind enough to..." --or who might be supposed to be responsible but has shirked this obligation, if the negative construction of the verbs is used, such as kurenai, agenai and morawanai. These append a slightly grumbling nuance like "He/she/they doesn't/don't do it, and they ought to!"

Applied linguist Barbara Pizziconi made a study of the use of benefactives among learners of Japanese of varying levels of proficiency in the course of 30-minute interviews. She found that as learners become more proficient, their correct use of benefactives increased, and misuse or avoidance decreased. Predictable enough, but Pizziconi also found something a bit surprising: The advanced learners actually used benefactives more frequently than the native speakers she interviewed. On average, the advanced learners used benefactives 13.7 times in 30 minutes, but the native Japanese speakers used them only 9.5 times.

At the same time, despite using them a lot, when Pizziconi questioned the learners about giving-receiving verbs, many confessed to feeling a bit oppressed by the acclaim-conferring linguistic devices. While understanding the need for proficiency in benefactives to speak Japanese naturally, the respondents found the use of them in opposition to their own social identity. They were uncomfortable making a point of assigning credit in situations in which they did not feel exceptionally grateful. Nonetheless, the advanced learners did so--a bit too much. Once immersed in the favor-recognition mode, whether they enjoy it or not, learners appear to find it hard to understand when it isn't necessary to tip their hats metaphorically. Pizziconi describes benefactives as a kind of "Trojan horse," which are adopted as a means of speaking naturally, but actually lead learners to constitute new frames and identities.

Unfortunately, life is not solely a matter of one pleasing event followed by another. The Japanese language also allows speakers to demonstrate their displeasure at disagreeable occurrences and point the finger at the often unintentional agent of distress in more cases than English permits. This is achieved through "malefactives," also known as the adversative passive. Some examples, pointed out by communication researcher Naoyuki Ono, include Taro ga kodomo ni nakareta (literally "Taro was cried by the child"--Taro was adversely affected by the child's crying); Hanako ga tonari no gakusei ni piano o asa made hikareta (literally "Hanako was played the piano by the neighboring student until morning"--Hanako was adversely affected by the neighboring student's playing the piano until morning); Taro ga tsuma ni taorerareta ("Taro was collapsed by his wife"--Taro was adversely affected by his wife's being sick in bed); and perhaps the most prototypical example of all, Taro ga ame ni furareta (Taro was rained on).

As the last example suggests, the closest colloquial approximation in English is the use of "on" in phrases like "His wife ran out on him" or "His dog died on him." But many of the examples above wouldn't work with "on." It might work with the "sick in bed" case, but "Taro's wife got sick on him" sounds rather callous and accusative. In addition, with the "on" construction the subject is the person or thing causing the nuisance or misery, while the Japanese sentences focus on the sufferer undergoing the hardship, and yet the passive shows that the trouble is usually beyond their control.

The adversative passive packages up a grievance very neatly and meticulously in a fairly simple and commonly used form. And the lack of a true equivalent in English can be sorely felt by Japanese speakers trying to express adversity in English. Theoretical linguist Mayumi Masuko made an examination of more than 500 essay tests written by Japanese learners of English on the topics of the nuclear explosion at Chernobyl and on dying with dignity. She found that the learners frequently made incorrect use of the passive voice when using such verbs at "occur," "happen," "take place" and "suffer." Masuko notes that the cause of these errors cannot be ascertained conclusively, but observes that it is possible that students associate adversity with the passive voice.

Cry Of The Owl

The Cry Of The Owl is the second novel that I've read by Patricia Highsmith, the first being The Talented Mr. Ripley. Highsmith's highly stylized portraits of psychopaths have proved to be appetizing for film makers-I first was aware of Highsmith through the successful Ripely  film version starring Matt Damon and first learned of this novel while watching Wim Wenders film version of another Highsmith novel, Ripley's Game, given to him after he had learnt that The Cry Of The Owl and  A Tremor Of Forgery had already been optioned. In this fascinating novel all of the main characters have some sort of mental issue, however, it doesn't turn out as I had expected and is a study of dread for Robert Forester, who admits that he has to struggle very hard to remain "normal" on a daily basis-it is a struggle. But there are characters who do not feel the need to be "normal" and give in to their impulses, whether it be suicide, violence, or mere cruelty. I really felt the tension and couldn't see where Highsmith was going with this story. I'm curious to see what her other novels are like-I think I'm hooked on Highsmith.

Kiss Me Deadly

Kiss Me Deadly (1955) directed by Robert Aldrich is a filmed based on a Mickey Spillane Mike Hammer mystery. However, this film transcends the genre with the adaptation from screenwriter A. I. Bezzerides who takes liberties with Spillane's story and introduces elements of cold war paranoia about nuclear weapons. The adaptation is further enhanced by Aldrich's direction and aesthetic choices throughout the film. For example, he chose to shoot most of the film in the now defunct working class Bunker Hill area in Los Angeles that is very atmospheric and noir-like. The film may seem somewhat tame by modern standards, but there were battles with the MPAA prior to its release. Aldrich solved some of these problems by not showing violence in key scenes and leaving it up to the audience to imagine the violence rather than showing it on the screen. There's a suitcase that has something mysterious in it and glows and amkes a high pitched noise when opened that has been influential in subsequent films like Alex Cox'S Repo Man and Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction. The Criterion edition that came out this year has audio commentary by film noir specialists Alain Silver and James Ursini, a video tribute by Alex Cox, experts from The Long Haul of A.I. Bezzerides (a 2005 documentary on the screenwriter), Mike Hammer's Mickey Spillane (a 1998 documentary about the life of and work of the author), video pieces on the film's locations, the altered ending, and a booklet featuring an essay by the critic J. Hoberman and a 1955 reprint by director Robert Aldrich. It is a classic LA film noir.

BFI: Unforgiven

Unforgiven by Edward Buscombe for the BFI Modern Classic series looks at what I consider to be one of the greatest western revisionist classics. It does a thorough job of debunking the myths of the west, while simultaneously creating them. I recently re-watched the film and enjoyed it as much as I did on the first viewing. It is only recently that I have been steeping myself in the genre after essentially avoiding it for years. Not so long ago I saw Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch began to wonder if I had been missing something. Buscombe gives a close reading of the film in context with the history of westerns and Clint Eastwood's career in particular. I also think it also has one of Gene Hackman's finest performances. It was interesting to know that Francis Ford Coppola originally bought the rights to the screenplay and that Eastwood didn't make significant changes to the script in the filming of this masterpiece.

Samurai Rebellion

Samurai Rebellion (1967) is another film, like Hari Kiri (1964), from director Masaki Kobayashi that is a critique of fedual society. There are more similarities between the two films than just the theme of the individual against society. Also, both films starred Tatsuya Nakadai, were written by Shinobu Hashimoto, and had scores by the legendary Toru Takemitsu. The director of photography was different. This time it was Kazuo Yamada rather than Yoshio Miyajima, but the black and white cinematography is equally impressive in this film. As film critic Donald Richie points out in his informative essay for the Criterion edition (which also has an exerpt from a 1993 interview with director Masaki Kobayashi), the geometric patterns are used to illustrate themes of social restraint. The film depicts life in Aizu with Matusdaira clan as an effective system of oppression, which stifles individuality, and Isao Sasahara (Toshiro Mifinue) has had enough. The first part of the film operates as a family drama and no violence takes place until the climax at the end of the film. Richie makes an astute observation when he depicts Hari Kiri as being somewhat Shakespearean and classifies this film as being Jacobean-cruel, bloody, and impersonal. There is also the underlying theme, also seen in Hari Kiri, of the deception of history. The truth never gets out in either film and is covered up by the clans in what will become official history that negates the rebellion. I agree with Richie when he states that: “… by focusing on family roles, he widened his subject and heightened its emotional potential. Another classic from Kobayashi, I feel compelled to see his version of Lafcadio Hearn's Kawaidan (1964).

Wilco: The Whole Love

Wilco's new album, The Whole Love, seems to be a departure from the last two releases, Blue Sky Blue and Wilco (The Album). Both of which I happened to like, but they retreated from their experimental sound that started with  Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. This album may have something to do with a more solid line-up. "Art of Almost" is the most progressive sounding tune on the album. The more conventional sounding and radio friendly tracks are "I Might", "Standing O," and Dawned On Me." I always think it's a pleasure to hear a new Wilco album. I have yet to be disappointed.

Japan Swings: Politics, Culture And Sex In The New Japan

Japan Swings: Politics, Culture And Sex In The New Japan (1997) by Australian journalist Richard McGregor is a somewhat out of date, but accurate and applicable to Japan today in many areas. Some of the unchanged ideas and concepts in Japan that he reports on include the non transparent court system, prevalent paternalism, the unholy alliance of government and big business, nihonjinron (the study of Japanese-ness), whaling, and the tendency to see themselves as victims of WWII (not to mention controversies involving history textbooks, comfort women, etc. in the chapter "The Wages Of War"). Obviously, his discussion of business and politics ends in the 90s and he has missed out on recent trends like the massive decline in birth rates and social problems like hikimori. He does get some things right, he predates Alex Kerr's book Dogs And Demons about the pork barrel excess of the construction business that has disfigured much of Japan with concrete lined rivers and creeks, bridges and roads that go no where. Mc Gregor is especially good discussing the nuances of the complex worlds of politics and finance. For example, in "Beyond The Bubble" he tells the story of Nui Onoue, a former mistress of a yakuza, who amassed a huge fortune which she illegally mismanaged during the bubble era. He looks at corruption and the unholy alliance of big business-especially construction companies and protectivist strategies of the government in chapters like "Money Politics" and "The Nanny State." McGregor can be incisive about how the Japanese see themselves in relation to the rest of the world in chapters like "Asian's Siren Song" (which shows how they see themselves separate from other Asian countries and superior to them) and "The Odd Couple" (which looks at the relationship between Japan and Australia over the last 100 years). He looks at gender roles in "Bad Girls And Mummie's Boys," which is probably the most sensationalistic chapter, as he discusses kyoiku mamas that will do "anything" to make sure their sons do well on their exams and does debunk the "yellow cab" myth. However, still reports on women going wild on vacation and sleeping with Thai and Balinese beach boys. In the final chapter,"Nicer New Nationalism," he looks at the cultural view of the Japanese through its nihonjinron cottage publishing industry (in which 100s of books about Japanese uniqueness come out every year), the whaling issue (which has become more controversial of late with the exposure from The Cove), the Imperial family issues of the late 90s, and the issue of the Self-Defense forces. The pendulum swinging metaphor is invoked as sees economic strength being combined with political weakness. Hie final assessment is that Japan combines xenophobia with an intense and insecure competitive streak that is seen in nationalistic values of racial superiority, self-sacrifice and self-abnegation.

Jules and Jim

Jules And Jim (1961) is probably François Truffaut’s most famous film. It turned out to be different than I expected. I had vague notions that it was about two friends who shared a woman so I was under the impression it was a free-love swinging 60s type of film, but the setting couldn't further than expected-it takes place at the turn of the century, however, the characters attitudes toward sex and relationships seemed progressive to me, but perhaps they are merely European. Perhaps they are universal. Since it is human nature for people to fall in and out of love at varying degrees of feeling-there is the lover and the loved. The wild card of life is often the heart. Jeanne Moreau is great as the “manizer” who is an unconventional woman and her husband Jules (Oscar Werner) is willing to put up with antics in order to keep the family together and has the greatest esteem for his friend Jim (Henri Serre). It is at turns whimsical and tragic and has the sweep of an epic as WWI interrupts the story of the Frenchman and Austrian who are great friends and transcend nationality. I think I may have enjoyed the film noir qualities of Shoot The Piano Player more than this film, but it does seem modern in many ways in that it was influential for many modern filmmakers.

Taming The Gods: Religion And Democracy On Three Continents

Taming The Gods: Religion And Democracy On Three Continents Ian Buruma's latest book is a short treatise that looks at the relationship between democracy and religion in America, Europe, Japan, and China. In recent years, Bururma has written about the attitude of east with the west in Occidentalism and has investigated the clash between liberal Holland and Muslim fanatics in Murder In Amsterdam:The Death of Theo Van Gogh and the Limits of Tolerance. I think these experiences have inspired him to search out the connections between the liberal democratic governments and the oppositional forces of religion of late. In the first section, "Full Tents and Empty Cathedrals" he looks at how democratic America and those of Europe differ. Buruma relies on the observations of DeTocqueville on America, which is such a religious country and the fact that religion has largely been left behind and continues to be distrusted in Europe as a reminder of the despotic rule of the church before the French revolution. Buruma rightly praises the division of church and state and analyzes the differences in the relations of politics and religion by looking at the views of influential thinkers like Spinoza, Hume, and Hobbes.

Buruma has written extensively on Asia and Japan and China in particular-he is fluent in both languages, thus he shows a strength in analyzing the connections between religion and government in this section. He begins with China from the Quing dynasty and in particular the influence of Confucius. He notes that there never was any true split between spiritual and secular authority. This is realized in the notion that secular power must be justified by moral ideology. He suggests that China must renounce their authoritarian claims on the moral and spiritual lives its citizens. Next, Buruma takes a look at Japan which likes to boast that religion plays no part in politics, which isn't completely true. However, he notes that is mostly in the past where Shinto crushed democratic aspirations and that religion played a role in Japan's response to superior Western power. The fact that Japan was on the periphery and therefore did not see themselves as superior to the Westerners as the Chinese did and who were subsequently subdued by them. Japan sought to learn from them and catch up instead. He also analyzes the influence of Nichiren  sects on Tokugawa rule, which resulted largely in a separation of powers. This in turn allowed Japan to make the necessary changes to modernize and fight off western colonialism. it was then noted by a Japanese scholar that the western powers were able to be successful in their rule due to Christianity as a state religion and this led to the establishment of Shinto as the state religion. Thus, they brought state and religion back together. And this justified military conquest, impeded democratic institutions, and made it difficult for a secular dictator to take power. After their defeat, America established a secular democracy and ended state Shintoism. And Buruma suggests, the spiritual vacuum led to the establishment of dangerous cults like Aum Shinrinrikyo that dropped sarin gas in the subways in 1995. However, he suggests that it is not religion alone that promotes ethical behavior and the desire of the right to return to the past is unlikely.

The last section, "Enlightenment Values," takes a look at the the impact of the Enlightenment on christianity and in opposition to Islam. He ask whether or not can democratic governments can hold sway over religious people and it seems that they can with Christians, but the jury is still out with Muslims. He notes that most Middle Eastern Muslim countries have been autocratic for a number of reasons, but suggests democracies do exist: India and Indonesia. However, modern concerns are centered around becoming "Islamized." However, these revolutionaries are usually young people born and bred in Europe. He sees that the main challenge posed by Muslims in Europe is social and political rather cultural. How do you deal with Muslims who don't respect the law of the land? Buruma may not have the solution, but he defends the notion that there should continue to be a separation of church and state.

I found this to be a thought provoking discussion of the Muslim problem. And a good discussion of the modern history of the connection of religion and democracy on three continents. It is by no means a comprehensive study of the subject, but rather a compelling analysis for the general reader. 

Night Moves

Night Moves (1975) is an entertaining noirish thriller from Arthur Penn (Bonnie and Clyde and Little Big Man) starring Gene Hackman. Apparently, it is inspired by the novel that was adapted for Stunt Man, which Penn wanted to adapt, but ran into a scheduling conflict. Hackman plays Harry, a former NFL football player and a private detective hired to find a Hollywood socialite's wayward daughter-played by an 18 year old Melanie Griffith in her second screen role. There are plenty of good supporting actors in the cast, including a young James Woods as well. Harry's marriage is falling apart and his case takes him from LA to the Florida keys to track down the missing girl. He gets caught up in a larger illegal money making scheme that puts his life at risk. It's an entertaining film and Hackman is at his best in his tough guy role.