This small-town middle school is even stranger than usual

In the last decade, Japanese horror movies have become more and more popular in the West. Beginning with the American remake of The Ring in 2002, and the subsequent popularity of the Japanese version, Japanese cinema has terrified audiences worldwide with their brand of dread-filled horror. Following this trend, Yen Press has released Another: Volume 1 as an ebook to American audiences, giving them a new format with which to scare themselves silly.

Koichi Sakakibara is in the unenviable position of starting a new middle school in his third year. His mother died when he was less than a year old, and his father is spending a year abroad in India as an anthropologist. Since he'll be gone for a full year this time, Koichi has been sent to live with his maternal grandparents in Yomiyama. 

On the very day that he was supposed to begin school, he's hospitalized with a second spontaneous pneumothorax. Not completely unheard of in adolescent boys, especially those who are, like Koichi, tall and thin, it's a painfully annoyance that delays his starting in the new school. Even a strange visit from the class presidents isn't terribly reassuring.

Perhaps it's just a matter of moving from a metropolis like Tokyo to a smaller town, but everyone seems just a little bit off here. Her aunt (who is closer in age to a cousin) went to the same middle school, and has been strangely elusive about the traditions and customs of his new school. 

When he finally does make it to class, things get even stranger. The students don't follow the normal morning routines, such as rising to address the teacher or taking attendance. And there's something strange about one of the girls in class. She doesn't interact with anyone else, and no one acknowledges her either. And her desk...is strangely old-fashioned.

Part of the joy of the Japanese horror stories is the slow build that they have. To give anything more away would ruin a bit of that dread that forms, and far be it from me to break down what Ayatsuji as worked so hard to create. If this is representative of the standard Japanese horror novel, it's a crime that so few have made it to the West. One word of warning: as this is the first of two volumes, there is a rather cruel break in the story halfway through. Be warned that when you get to the end, it may be a hard wait for the rest of the tale.

Highs: So many of the oddities that the narrator runs into can be explained away as coincidences or the culture of a small town, except that there are so very many of these oddities.

Lows: A two-part scary story, with months between the parts, is just plain mean on the part of Yen Press.

Verdict: A lovely departure from the traditional ghost story, Another: Volume 1 leaves the author wishing they read Japanese so they could find out how it ends.

Further Reading: The Midnight Palace, Dingo 

A hospital tries to save Japan's first 'Criticality' victim

Environmentalists have a terrible time with energy production. Coal, nuclear, wind, solar, natural gas-each falls in and out of favor in turn. Recently, it's been nuclear power's turn at being bashed, although perhaps the talking heads with turn to wind farms changing air currents soon.

A Slow Death: 83 Days of Radiation Sickness by the NHK-TV “Tokaimura Criticality Accident” Crew could so easily have been just another diatribe against nuclear energy. It could have been manipulative, full of the authors' condemnation of nuclear proliferation and misinformation about nuclear science and history.

Instead, A Slow Death is a critical look at the regulation of an industry, the ethics of experimental medicine, and end-of-life care and its effects on both the family and the healthcare workers involved. Ouchi's fate was determined the moment he saw the Cherenkov light and his body was bombarded with neutron beam radiation, but the events of the next three months are a look into the inner-workings of a medical system woefully unprepared for what was wheeled into their emergency room that day.

The first failure is, of course, on the part of the private uranium processing facility for which Ouchi worked. Completely ignoring international regulations regarding the processing of uranium, the plant had the workers pouring components into the precipitation tank via bucket and funnel, rather than the components being added by a pump. On top of this, the precipitation tank was shaped differently, allowing a build-up of the fissionable Uranium-235 to form. On top of this, it seems that Ouchi was never informed that this was not the standard operation protocol; he had no idea that the job he was doing had any inherent risk at all.

Being so near Tokyo, Ouchi was immediately taken to one of the finest hospitals in Japan. Attached to the University of Tokyo Department of Medicine, Ouchi was to have the best doctors and nurses available taking care of him. Kazuhiko Maekawa, the doctor who would be in charge of Ouchi's treatment plan, was a master of emergency medicine. Able to treat anything that might roll in his doors, from stroke patients to trauma victims, at the suggestion of a colleague only recently started looking into the treatment of radiation victims. The framework by which a radiation exposure patient would be assessed and treated was completely nonexistent at the time, so Maekawa would be treading in unknown water.

In this aspect, the book is absolutely not a condemnation of the facility or its staff. No patient exposed to more than 8Sv of radiation had ever survived more than a week. In living for almost three months, new ground was being tread almost every day. For example, it takes two weeks for epidermis cells to go from creation to the top layer of the skin. Ouchi's chromosomes were shattered, so no new skin could be generated. As the existing skin across his body went through its natural life cycle, there would be no new skin to take its place. Marks from removing the tape that held his IVs and other medical devices in place would never heal, and eventually the use of medical tape was forbidden. As muscle tissue was destroyed, traumatic rhabdomyolysis - Crush Syndrome - developed. The massive release of myoglobin into the bloodstream overwhelmed his kidneys and caused them to begin to shut down. Even a stem-cell transplant from his sister to boost his decimated immune system created macrophages that attacked his own systems.

In the beginning, Ouchi was in very good spirits, accepting the often painful treatments that the doctors and nurses performed. As is still the practice in Japanese hospitals, neither the patient nor the family is told of how bleak the situation truly is. Because of this, although the staff valiantly tried to keep Ouchi alive, he and his family had no information by which to decide when treatment should be ceased. Not until Day 81, 22 days after a cardiac arrest left him unresponsive, did Maekawa finally explain the current situation to his family, and suggest that a DNR order be put in place. 

The question this raises is at what point would the family, and perhaps Ouchi himself, have decided to end active treatment and simply decided to wait for the inevitable with palliative care? Ouchi's brain waves never actually flatlined: could he have experienced locked-in syndrome for weeks after his ability to communicate failed? How many dressing changes, how many skin grafts, how much isolation in an ICU ward transpired after all hope should have been set aside? These are the questions that the doctors and nurses involved in the case carry with them to this day.

A Slow Death is a hard book to read. From the beginning, the reader knows the end of the story. Each new treatment, each moment of hope, must eventually end in failure. Parts of the book read awkwardly, perhaps journalistic writing transposed into a book form is to blame, or maybe translation difficulty. Even with these hurdles, it is still a quick book to read, totaling only 141 pages. This is a contemporary look at a very rare situation, and with so much firsthand information and interviews, it's equal parts fascinating and horrifying throughout.

Highs: Inset 3, the micrograph of his chromosomes 'destroyed into pieces' shows the reader, perhaps better than any external photo could, the amount of damage that a split-second of radiation can do to a living creature.

Lows: The back-and-forth between the clinical science of the situation and the emotional impact of a human being going through such pain can be jarring.

Verdict: An important look at both corporate and medical ethics, and short enough to be read in an evening, A Slow Death imparts a lot of knowledge quickly, and leaves the reader a lot to ponder.

Further Reading: The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

A Merry Christmas Non-Fiction Shopping List

The Non-Fiction Shopping List 2012

It's the beginning of the holiday shopping season, and it's time to start checking peoples' Amazon wish lists and listen for hints. Book readers can be a squirrley bunch, though, and none more so than those who read non-fiction. Some people read non-fiction simply for the desire to learn about the world around them, while others look down at fiction readers as escapists. Whatever the reason, there's plenty of good true stories out there to be given. Here's a few, along with the suggest audience for each.

The Reluctant Communist: My Desertion, Court-Martial, and Forty-Year Imprisonment in North Korea

North Korea's been all over the news this year, with last winter's death of Kim Jong-Il, the rise of Kim Jong-Un and his wife Ri Sol-Ju, and the loosening of some of the restrictions there. This is a rather unique look into the most cloistered country in the world, through the eyes of an American POW.

Recommended for: the current-affairs and news junkies on your list.

A Man With No Talents

This is a rare look into one of the less shiny subcultures in Japan. Writing with the pen name Oyama Shiro, this chronicles the life of a day laborer through the bubble years and following recession in Japan. Unable to fit into the salaryman role laid out for him, the narrator take the more difficult, yet ultimately more freeing life of manual labor. Living in a bunk in a boardinghouse, not only does he blame no one for his fall in status, he thanks his society for giving him the opportunity to live as he wishes, with no responsibilities to anyone but himself.

Recommended for: people struggling with the current American recession, those who believe Japan has no underside.

The Boy who Harnessed the Wind

William Kamkwamba lived through some of the hardest times in Malawi. With his father unable to bring in a harvest, he couldn't afford to go to school. Even when he was young, though, he thought it was a shame that work and study had to end when it got dark. While trying to piece together an advanced science book in the village's library, he put together the bicycle lights he's seen around town and a picture of a windmill, and he brings a light in the darkness to his home for the first time.

Recommended for: with a strong message of self-reliance and a happy ending, this is a safe book for anyone from upper-middle-school to a grandmother.

Okimono Kimono

Almost more of an art book than a real story, one of the women of the CLAMP manga writing group puts together a beautiful collection of both original and traditional kimono. She relates her experiences in wearing kimono in regular life, as well as ways to modernize the style of dress while keeping them feminine and pretty.

Recommended for: most female manga readers would appreciate the art of this book, even if they'd never dress like this themselves.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

Known by many aliases since her death, this is the story of the life and family of a poor black woman in Maryland. Treated at Johns Hopkins, the cancerous cells that eventually killed her opened the door to the study of human cells outside of the body. What follows is the history of her family, who never saw a dime of the money that their mother's cells made, the scientists who used her biological material without her consent, and a fascinating look at the fields of bioethics and medical patents.

Recommended for: fans of science, civil rights and biographies alike.

Good Women of China

China has one of the most controlled 'free' presses in the world. And yet, it's still much more relaxed than in decades past. In the 1980s, as radio was slowly able to show the country a more realistic view of itself, Xinran began a late-night call in show for women. Collected here are some of the most memorable stories from those years. Told in plain language, but with a journalist's ear for narrative, the lives of the women in this book will stay with the reader long after she closes the cover.

Recommended for: current events and history buffs, women's rights and civil rights activists, and anyone looking for poignant stories with a thread of hope woven within them.

So there it is. That should cover most of your shopping list. But again, as always, make sure to tuck that gift receipt into the front cover. Book readers are a wily bunch, and sometimes we read even the most obscure title without anyone knowing. 

A brief look at wearing kimono in modern society

As much as Japan as modernized and westernized in the last fifty years, there is still something of the classical there.  New apartment buildings have risen next to old Shinto shrines, and the spirits of times gone by seem to meld into the fast-paced life of modern Japan.  As fashions and trends move ever onward, there will always be those who treasure the traditional.

Mokona, of CLAMP fame, has brought her love of the kimono to the manga reader in CLAMP Mokona's Okimono Kimono.  Having decided to wear kimono in as many common-day situations as possible, this book demonstrates both her love of kimono as a piece of art, as well as the practicalities of wearing a style of dress that seems, on first glance, to be completely at odds with modern life.


Fans of CLAMP's manga will certainly be thrilled with the first section, dedicated to kimono art.  Mokona has tried her hand at designing several kimono based on CLAMP series.  From WISH to Tsubasa, Mokona shows how nearly any mood or setting can be depicted in the kimono art form.


The book then shows how to properly accessorize a kimono, both in the traditional style and a more modern look; shows the author in a variety of modern-day situations in kimono; and interviews a few people about their experiences as well.  There's also a short manga story at the end, and an essay by one of the other members of CLAMP about her experiences with kimono.


Mokona's Okimono Kimono shows the uniquely Japanese art form of the kimono in settings that I would never expect to see them in.  It's hard to make a good analogy to American fashion with this, because no one would expect to see traditional Western European clothing walking down the street.  Mokona deserves some credit and respect for trying to keep this part of Japanese history alive with its younger generations.


Highs:  Mokona's accessory collection makes me want to plan a trip to the antique mall and find some adorable vintage pieces of my own.


Lows:  I wish there was some context to these pictures, as I have no idea if the reaction of the people on the street would be closer to someone wearing a 1960s housedress or leiderhosen.


Verdict:  A very quick read, and one of the few kimono books to be found marketed to the manga crowd, it's an interesting of somewhat incomplete read.


Further Reading:  Alter Ego: Avatars and their Creators

A Japanese man chooses to live his life on his own terms

Japan has had to be a very structured society for centuries.  A relatively small country with very little in the way of natural resources (even with the abundance of fishing, over 60% of the food used by the country is produced elsewhere), the will of the self has by necessity had to take a back seat to the will of the collective.  This attitude continues today, with the stereotypical 'salaryman' position being a prime example.

But what happens when, for whatever reason, a person simply can't make himself fit into that mold?  Some people simply fall out of society altogether, and that is what happened to our narrator, who goes by Oyamo Shiro, in A Man With No Talents.


He is very careful to lay the blame for not fitting on his own shoulders, and not blaming society or his parents.  Rather, he sees himself as simply unable to cope with the stress of a normal job and life in modern Japan, so he gave up on that part of life.  Instead, he works as a day laborer on the streets.


He started this life fairly late, at around 40 years of age.  He did try his best to keep up the appearances of a normal life.  he went to university and was able to get decent jobs.  But without fail, eventually he would 'get sick' and not be able to keep going to work.  Later on he reads up a bit on psychology and decides that he might have something of a mental illness rather than being simply weak-willed, but eventually he gives up on mainstream jobs, gives up on his former life, and takes up residence at a bunkhouse in the San'ya district of Tokyo.  Here, he falls in with the day laborer crowd, and begins to take jobs with them.


Officially unemployed, he has a card that, when he works a certain number of days for the month, he can turn in to a government office for a stipend for the days that he doesn't work.  This gives him enough money to get by, living in a doya, or bunkhouse.  He shares a room with six other men, receiving a bunk bed with a curtain around it to sleep in, a TV with a headphone jack at the foot of the mattress, and a locker in which to store his belongings.  While this would seem spartan at best to most, he sees this existence as freeing, allowing him to live without the responsibilities of a normal job and apartment that had made his life so unbearable before.


The book is a really interesting look at one of the subcultures of Japan that many never see.  the outskirts of Toyko has is boxtowns and its truly homeless who sleep on the streets, but rather than rail against the uncaring government, our narrator is grateful to live in a country in which he is able to choose a path in life that he finds more suitable.


He chose a good time in Japan's recent history to become a day laborer.  At the beginning, during the housing boom, laborers like him could be choosy, only picking the types of jobs that they preferred, or even taking a day off, confident in the fact that there would be work waiting for him the next day.


After the bubble economy collapsed, however, work became more and more scarce.  Men would line up at two in the morning outside the job offices that open at six, and even this would guarantee a job for the day.  Besides this, our narrator is getting older, and even though he has always gravitated towards the easier jobs, even these get harder and harder as one ages, and not everyone is able to keep up the work until he reaches the official retirement age.


The author submitted his memoir to a writing contest on a whim, and was stunned when it won.  Shunning the spotlight, he refused to accept interviews after he won, preferring to continue the life he had chosen for himself.


Highs:  A candid look at a way of life rarely talked about


Lows:  At times frustratingly self-depreciating


Verdict:  An interesting look at a different Japanese mindset


Further Reading:  Shutting Out the Sun, North Korea Kidnapped My Daughter

A mother's loss becomes an international incident

Over here in the US, we’re very luck that we border fairly reasonable countries.  We had some issues with Cuba a generation ago, and Mexico might be having some problems, but generally we’re not doing to badly with our next-door neighbors.

Japan, on the other hand, isn’t quite so lucky.  Just to the northwest is one of the most insular and unstable countries in the world.  A country with a history of dictator-for-life leaders even though the country is nominally communist.  A country where the leaders have ludicrous riches while the citizens not only cannot support themselves, but are starving while donated food rots in storage.

That country would be North Korea.

During the late 1970s and early 1980s, at least 13 Japanese were abducted, mostly from coastal towns, with the intent of using them to train Korean spies to pass as Japanese citizens.  Although the rest were adults, Megumi Yokota was only 13 years old when she was kidnapped on her way home from school.  The police found a few of her belongings, but there is no other sign of what happened to her.

What follows in Sakie Yokota’s North Korea Kidnapped My Daughter is a decades-long quest by her parents to discover what happened to their beloved daughter.  It took North Korea until 2002 to officially admit that they had abducted Japanese citizens for their training camps.  Until then, the local police made the painful suggestions that perhaps Megumi had killed herself or simply run away.  Her parents, especially her mother, could no accept any of these theories, and never gave up their fight for justice.

As a piece of literature, however, it leaves quite a bit to be desired.  Revelations are few and far between, which is how life is.  Because of the long stretches without any new information, the book tends to drag on and seem rather dry, as the mother can only tell us about the lengths that she’s gone to find her daughter without any success.

The book also isn’t focused on the international aspect of the conflict.  There’s still a book out there to be written that focuses on all the people abducted by North Korea.  Citizens from South Korea, Japan, and even Russian and Europe have all disappeared.  This book is solely focused on the one family.

I also hesitate to criticize her directly on the quality of the writing.  Vertical is a fairly small publishing company, and is not used to publishing novels or nonfiction.  It could easily be the fault of the translator that the writing comes across as so stilted and formal to American ears.  It could also be the writing style of the people of Sakie Yokota’s generation.  In general, Japanese speech among adults is more formal than in the US, so that might be how their writing is as well.  An especially good translator would have changed the cadence of the writing to what the region’s readers are accustomed to, but that might not have been done here.

All around, the information is interesting and not found anywhere else in the US.  While the writing is a bit reminiscent of a Dateline NBC episode, it’s an in-depth look at how mothers in other countries cope with some of the hardest events in life.

Highs:  The government finally starting to pursue the case as a kidnapping

Lows:  Dealing with local police

Verdict:  Worth reading for the information, though not necessarily for pleasure reading

Further Reading:  The Reluctant Communist, Pyongyang