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Mighty Atom: How the A-bombs shaped Japanese popular culture

Mighty Atom: How the A-bombs shaped Japanese popular culture

Japan Today13 hours ago
In the 80 years since the World War II attacks, stories of destruction and mutation have been fused with fears around natural disasters
By Katie Forster and Kyoko Hasegawa
From Godzilla's fiery atomic breath to post-apocalyptic anime and harrowing depictions of radiation sickness, the influence of the nuclear bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki runs deep in Japanese popular culture.
In the 80 years since the World War II attacks, stories of destruction and mutation have been fused with fears around natural disasters and, more recently, the Fukushima crisis.
Classic manga and anime series "Astro Boy" is called "Mighty Atom" in Japanese, while city-leveling explosions loom large in other titles such as "Akira", "Neon Genesis Evangelion" and "Attack on Titan".
"Living through tremendous pain" and overcoming trauma is a recurrent theme in Japan's cultural output "that global audiences have found fascinating", said William Tsutsui, a history professor at Ottawa University.
The U.S. nuclear bombing of Hiroshima on August 6, 1945 left around 140,000 people dead. It was followed days later by the bombing of Nagasaki that killed around 74,000 people.
Some poetry "portrays the sheer terror of the atomic bomb at the moment it was dropped", but many novels and artworks address the topic indirectly, said author Yoko Tawada.
"It's very difficult for the experience of the atomic bomb, which had never existed in history before, to find a place in the human heart as a memory," she told AFP.
Tawada's 2014 book "The Emissary" focuses on the aftermath of an unspecified terrible event.
She was inspired by connections between the atomic bombs, the 2011 Fukushima nuclear disaster and "Minamata disease" -- mass mercury poisoning caused by industrial pollution in southwest Japan from the 1950s.
The story "is less of a warning, and more a message to say: things may get bad, but we'll find a way to survive", Tawada said.
Godzilla's skin
Narratives reflecting Japan's complex relationship with nuclear technologies abound, but the most famous example is Godzilla, a prehistoric creature awakened by U.S. hydrogen bomb testing in the Pacific.
"We need monsters to give a face and form to abstract fears," said professor Tsutsui, author of the book "Godzilla on My Mind".
"In the 1950s, Godzilla fulfilled that role for the Japanese -- with atomic energy, with radiation, with memories of the A-bombs."
Many people who watched Godzilla rampage through Tokyo in the original 1954 film left theaters in tears, he said.
And "it's said that the special effects people working on Godzilla modeled the monster's heavily furrowed skin after the keloid scars on the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki."
In the nearly 40 Godzilla movies released since, nuclear themes are present but often given less prominence, partly to appease American audiences, Tsutsui said.
Even so, the series remains hugely popular, with 2016 megahit "Shin Godzilla" seen as a critique of Japan's response to the tsunami-triggered Fukushima disaster.
'Black Rain'
"Black Rain", a 1965 novel by Masuji Ibuse about radiation sickness and discrimination, is one of Japan's best-known novels about the Hiroshima bombing.
But the fact Ibuse was not an A-bomb survivor is part of a "big debate about who is permitted to write these stories", said Victoria Young of the University of Cambridge.
"How we talk about or create literature out of real life is always going to be difficult," she said. "Are you allowed to write about it if you didn't directly experience it?"
Nobel-winning author Kenzaburo Oe collected survivor accounts in "Hiroshima Notes", essays written on visits to the city in the 1960s.
"He's confronting reality, but tries to approach it from a personal angle" including his relationship with his disabled son, said Tawada, who has lived in Germany for four decades after growing up in Japan.
"The anti-war education I received sometimes gave the impression that Japan was solely a victim" in World War II, she said.
"When it comes to the bombings, Japan was a victim -- no doubt" but "it's important to look at the bigger picture" including Japan's wartime atrocities, she said.
As a child, illustrations of the nuclear bombings in contemporary picture books reminded her of depictions of hell in historical Japanese art.
This "made me consider whether human civilization itself harbored inherent dangers", making atomic weapons feel less like "developments in technology, and more like something latent within humanity".
© 2025 AFP
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Ghost Story Boom Triggered by Social Conditions; Experts Theorize Why People Are Drawn to Ghost Stories
Ghost Story Boom Triggered by Social Conditions; Experts Theorize Why People Are Drawn to Ghost Stories

Yomiuri Shimbun

time38 minutes ago

  • Yomiuri Shimbun

Ghost Story Boom Triggered by Social Conditions; Experts Theorize Why People Are Drawn to Ghost Stories

Ghost stories, called 'kaidan' in Japanese, are enjoying a quiet boom in the country. Live performances by popular ghost storytellers attract large crowds, and paperbacks featuring ghost stories are regularly published. Experts say that the boom has been fueled by YouTube and anxiety about the future of society. Popular after COVID-19'I'll share a somewhat strange story.' In March, ghost storyteller Murakami Rock, 47, began speaking slowly to customers under dim, purple-red lighting at Thriller Night, a bar in Tokyo's Kabukicho district that features live ghost storytelling. Murakami's performance opened with a description of a strange experience he heard about from a man in his the story, the man moves into a new apartment in Tokyo and starts to experience strange things in it a few days later. The apartment, which was built on land that had been vacant for nearly 50 years, has something very wrong with it. At one point, the story takes a spine-chilling turn. Murakami's skillful storytelling captivated the audience, who found themselves screaming in terror. The bar's main attraction is that customers can enjoy ghost stories while drinking alcohol. The interior is decorated with eerie Western dolls, skeletons and other creepy items, creating a spooky atmosphere. Every day, the bar attracts many customers wanting to hear ghost stories told live, giving it a reputation for providing 'amazing experiences.' Murakami, who said he was a 'struggling actor,' became a storyteller specializing in ghost stories in 2014. His popularity got a boost thanks to performances that he streamed on YouTube beginning in 2021 during the COVID-19 pandemic.'The response was huge,' Murakami said. 'As soon as the pandemic subsided, the bar started getting many customers.' He is now a highly sought-after ghost storyteller, getting requests to perform from all over the country. The publishing industry is also enjoying the ghost story boom. Takeshobo Co., for example, publishes the 'Takeshobo Kaidan Bunko' (ghost story paperback) series, releasing five books a month. The series specializes in ghost stories that are based on the authors' own experiences or the accounts of others. Yoriko Ogawa, deputy editor-in-chief, explains that ghost-themed videos and ghost story gatherings have become popular since the pandemic. 'Many readers are impressed by the fact that the people who experienced the events actually exist, which gives the events a sense of realness and authenticity,' Ogawa said. Ghost story culture in EdoThe history of ghost stories in Japan started many years ago. Some ghost stories are already found in 'Konjaku Monogatari-shu,' a collection of old tales from the Heian period (794 to late 12th century). Ghost story culture flourished during the Edo period (1603-1867). Some ghost stories were adapted into kabuki plays that gained popularity among common people. 'Yotsuya Kaidan' (The ghost story of Yotsuya) based mainly on rumors that spread in Edo, now Tokyo, is among those stories. According to Prof. Yoshiyuki Iikura, a folklorist at Kokugakuin University who is knowledgeable about ghost stories, death was a frequent occurrence in everyday life during the medieval period due to wars and epidemics. In the era of peace that followed, death became more of a distant concept. As a result, people began to be scared by ghost stories, which relate to death, and even enjoy them for entertainment. Prof. Iikura said: 'Ghost stories didn't flourish during times of war. People only started enjoying them when there was no more immediate threat to their lives.' Many ghost stories from the Edo period, such as 'Yotsuya Kaidan,' feature oppressed women who become ghosts and seek revenge against powerful men. 'Although society in the late Edo period was stable, there was a sense of stagnation, and common people were anxious about the future,' Prof. Iikura said. 'They sought to vent their frustrations through ghost stories.' 'Real-life ghost stories' in 1990s People today may share a mindset of using ghost stories to distract themselves from anxiety. Ghost story researcher Yuki Yoshida, 44, says that the recent boom began in the 1990s, when 'school ghost stories' became popular in books and films. Then 'real-life ghost stories' based on personal experiences emerged and went mainstream. The collapse of the bubble economy, which filled people with anxiety about the future, coincided with the growing popularity of ghost stories. 'Ghost stories depict a mysterious and unstable world,' Yoshida said. 'That's why they resonate with unstable social climates and easily attract people.' He added, 'They evoke a certain sense, suggesting that this world is not the only one, that there might be another world out there.' Awe of deceased in disaster areas Ghost stories have also become an important bridge, connecting the memories of deceased loved ones with the feelings of those living today. Prof. Kiyoshi Kanebishi, an expert of disaster sociology at Kwansei Gakuin University, compiled a book titled 'Yobisamasareru Reisei no Shinsaigaku' (Awakened Spirituality in Earthquake Disaster Studies) with his seminar students and had it published by Shin-yo-sha Publishing Ltd. while working at Tohoku Gakuin University. The book includes accounts of ghost sightings in areas affected by the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake. In Ishinomaki, a city in Miyagi Prefecture affected by the disaster, several taxi drivers said they had 'ghost' passengers after the earthquake. A common thread in these narratives is that the people involved felt Lemore awe or kindness toward the ghosts than fear. Some people have visited the locations where the ghosts are said to have appeared in hopes of sensing the presence of their missing loved ones. 'In disaster-affected areas, ghosts are treated thoughtfully,' Prof. Kanebishi said. 'Unusual phenomena involving the appearance of deceased people are viewed as relatively common events.' One possible reason for the emergence of ghost stories is that the unprecedented quake resulted in a huge number of missing people. Many surviving families have had difficulty sending their loved ones off to the afterlife and calming their souls. 'The feelings of the families of missing people have not settled down,' Prof. Kanebishi said. 'I want people to understand that those in disaster-affected areas have a different perception of ghost stories from the typical perception involving curses and evil spirits.'

"In This Corner of the World": Revisiting War, Legacy, and Suzu's "Corner" with Director Sunao Katabuchi [Interview]
"In This Corner of the World": Revisiting War, Legacy, and Suzu's "Corner" with Director Sunao Katabuchi [Interview]

Kyodo News

time2 hours ago

  • Kyodo News

"In This Corner of the World": Revisiting War, Legacy, and Suzu's "Corner" with Director Sunao Katabuchi [Interview]

"In This Corner of the World," the animated masterpiece directed by Sunao Katabuchi and based on Fumiyo Kono's manga, meticulously portrays the life of Suzu Hojo, a woman who marries into a family in Kure from Hiroshima and endures the devastation of war. animate Times conducted an interview with Director Katabuchi, where we once again consider the continuous aspects of our lives that connect with the past, especially as we commemorate 80 years since the end of World War II and the year Suzu-san would have turned 100. The interview delves into profound questions: What constitutes war and daily life? How do we transmit stories across generations? And how should we interpret Suzu-san's "innocence"? Together with Director Katabuchi, we revisit and reexamine the "corner" of the world Suzu inhabited. Reevaluating Suzu-san's Daily Life ――This year marks both the 80th anniversary of World War II's end and Suzu-san's 100th birthday. What are your thoughts? Director Katabuchi: When "In This Corner of the World" was released in 2016, it reached audiences globally. Early on, in conversations with overseas fans, many expressed being moved by "Suzu-san's positive outlook on life." However, I suspected this might be a somewhat Hollywood-esque interpretation. I questioned, "Was Suzu-san truly that positive?" ――It seems more like she was simply carried along by the currents of the times and society. Katabuchi: Precisely. It was an era where people had no choice but to live as if swept along by the war. Although, after the war, Suzu-san does find something new, and the ending offers a sense of hope and a future. Yet, that future simply leads to our "ordinary daily life" today. Her life didn't necessarily create a wonderful world. It might be as simple as the fact that she continued to eat meals every day, bringing us to the present. But I wanted to convey the profound significance of such seemingly mundane things. Of course, even that daily sustenance has recently become precarious... ――Daily media reports have focused on rice-related issues lately. (Note: at the time of interview, Japan is experiencing a price surge of rice in the domestic market, impacting consumers' daily lives.) Katabuchi: These reports shock me; they suggest we're not moving toward a hopeful future. When "In This Corner of the World" was first released, I observed that many viewers, unfamiliar with this type of film, interpreted it through the lens of "conventional movies." From that perspective, Suzu-san, despite her passive existence, might appear to be living actively. In the context of entertainment films, Suzu-san could be seen as quite positive. While some viewers praised Suzu-san's courage and wisdom, I found myself questioning, "Where did she have the opportunity to exercise wisdom?" Suzu-san seems to maintain a smile, yet she progressively loses her capacity for joy. I believe we should deeply consider the implications of this. Naturally, it's not my place to dictate how an audience should view the film. However, I would be pleased if viewers approach this screening understanding that "this is not merely a work where a positive protagonist achieves an ideal ending." ――Suzu-san's realistic portrayal of daily life is likely the reason for the audience's emotional responses. Katabuchi: Depicting wartime solely as a period of scarcity could lead to the misconception that life was always austere. To counter this, we included scenes of pre-war life, featuring people eating cutlets or wearing modern girl fashion. Suzu-san's country had already experienced prosperity before the war; it wasn't a post-war development. Street photographs from around 1935 and 1955 are remarkably similar, with people and scenery appearing almost identical, suggesting a mere "dip" during the war years. Suzu-san grew up conforming to the norms of this wartime "dip." Interestingly, all the older characters who recall the pre-war era are shown complaining about the current situation. ――The film mentions Keiko-san (Keiko Kuromura, voiced by Minori Omi) as a "moga" (modern girl). Katabuchi: Yes, it seems Keiko-san and her mother (San Hojo, voiced by Mayumi Shintani) are reflecting on how they ended up in such difficult times. For example, Keiko-san might be thinking, "You shouldn't blindly believe everything in newspapers and magazines," especially when observing Suzu-san, who would make "Kusunoki rice" (a wartime substitute food) simply because she saw it in government propaganda, even when no actual rice was available. ――And in the end, it wasn't tasty at all (laughs). Katabuchi: Because it's just a method of food stretching during times of rice scarcity. For instance, if the government reduced the 10 kg rice ration to just over 9 kg, the remaining nearly 1 kg would be supplemented with rice bran to increase volume. In this context of food substitution, Suzu-san is told that "making Kusunoki rice including the bran is economical and nutritious." She genuinely believes this and follows the instructions. However, her mother takes the "Kusunoki rice," places it in a jar, carefully removes the bran, and then goes to eat it only after polishing. Considering the underlying meaning, we can see this quietly rejects Suzu-san's approach. The older generation, who experienced peaceful pre-war times, is implicitly disapproving of her wartime improvisation. ――As if to say, "There's no point in doing that." Katabuchi: Suzu-san pounds the rice in the bottle, believing this to be the correct way to prepare it. ――From a modern perspective, Suzu-san's actions might appear resourceful. Yet, they are subtly criticized. So, it's not simply an episode of her futile efforts. Katabuchi: Exactly. It's important to analyze the true meaning behind the mother's actions. Reevaluating The Narrative From Each of Their "Corner" ――In creating this work, you must have conducted extensive research and historical verification. Did you also manage to collect firsthand accounts from war survivors? Katabuchi: While we did gather some accounts, they weren't our primary focus. Our main approach involved reconstructing the era in our minds as much as possible, utilizing primary sources such as documents, diaries, and photographs from that period. We then used interviews to fill in any gaps. It's crucial to have a solid understanding of the context before conducting interviews; this allows you to properly grasp the meaning of the stories shared. The goal isn't to accept everything at face value, but to comprehend what's being conveyed. Relying solely on recollected narratives limits you to "only what remains in that person's memory." ――It can become too subjective. Katabuchi: Exactly. For instance, someone recounted seeing floating lights during the air raid on Kure, describing them as incendiary bombs. However, incendiary bombs actually fall with enough force to break through roof tiles. We need to be able to interpret these accounts, thinking, "Those were likely flares. The direction they described matches up as well." As time progresses, fewer people will be able to share these firsthand experiences. Only their "narratives" will remain as written records or data. We need to develop the ability to evaluate and understand these accounts from a different perspective. ――This relates to the issue of how we, as non-participants, can pass on the experiences of war. Katabuchi: Archiving firsthand accounts and diaries from that period seems to be a good approach. While personal storytelling is crucial for understanding nuances, there's a risk of losing those nuances when listeners retell the stories, and it's challenging to identify potential biases. Therefore, I believe it's best to comprehensively archive these accounts, making them readily available for reference and comparison. Among these, "diaries written during the war" are, in my opinion, the most valuable for archiving. ――Do such things still exist today? Katabuchi: Quite a few, actually. There are picture books from that era and illustrated diaries drawn by schoolgirls. Women of that time would carry two shoulder bags crossed over their body when going out, to keep their hands free. One bag contained an air raid hood, while the other held more everyday items. Looking at these bags depicted in the diaries from that period, you can see they were embroidered with flowers or cats. ――They did the embroidery themselves, right? Katabuchi: During wartime, when everything was strictly controlled and you'd think there was no room for extras, there were women embroidering cats on their bags. I've never seen a war movie featuring characters like that before. ――The air raid hood is also quite remarkable. (Note: it hangs like a shoulder bag.) Katabuchi: Air raid hoods, gas masks, and helmets aren't typical women's accessories. Yet, the unexpected appearance of flowers or cats on them completely alters our perception of wartime. I believe it's important to include these details when we mentally re-examine "what it was really like." While all spoken accounts are invaluable, it's crucial to reconsider their meaning within the broader societal context of the time. We should question if other possibilities existed and seek evidence to support them. This process of inquiry and verification, I believe, will become increasingly vital in the future. ――During the production of the series, were you already considering these ideas? Katabuchi: Before I began working on "In This Corner of the World," I was researching the historical aspects of aircraft paint. It's fascinating how different individuals describe paint colors, each imparting their own nuances. This led me to ponder the true color amidst these varied descriptions. However, I eventually discovered primary source material detailing the precise paint mixture ratios. It became clear that the diverse color tones people recalled were actually faded colors, altered by exposure to sunlight and air. Often, the truth diverges significantly from remembered accounts. Similarly, in the film's carrier-based aircraft raid, the anti-aircraft fire creates smoke that blooms like flowers in the sky. This imagery is also corroborated in the wartime experience anthology compiled by Kure City. The anthology describes various smoke colors, ranging from burnt brown to purple. Interestingly, the same collection includes recollections from American military personnel, who also observed "a variety of colors." At that point, I couldn't help but think, "There are simply too many different colors mentioned." ――But why were the shells colored? Katabuchi: The shells were filled with dye to identify which cannon they were fired from. The correct answer was found in a report by the American military who came to Japan after the war to investigate Japanese military technology. According to this report, there were only six colors. Moreover, it even listed the names of the dyes used and the exact percentages of each component. ――That's quite a detailed investigation. Katabuchi: This doesn't align with eyewitness accounts of dark brown or purple shells. When people say "there were many colors," we should understand it as "there seemed to be a lot of colors." By questioning "what were the actual colors?" from a different perspective and investigating further, we can finally obtain an objective answer. ――So it's about preserving the importance of narratives and testimonies while uncovering the truth from a different angle. It's not about believing or disbelieving, right? Katabuchi: I'd say it's about treating these narratives as clues and using them to search for the actual historical landscape. Finding out about specific dyes and their exact percentages brings us to an incredible level of realism. ――As viewers, how should we approach such narratives? Katabuchi: There's a similar incident related to Isao Takahata's "Grave of the Fireflies." In the film, incendiary bombs are depicted igniting mid-air as they fall. These bombs are essentially iron cylinders filled with napalm, a gel-like form of gasoline, contained within nylon bags. ――So, that's why they cause widespread fires? Katabuchi: Their design is to penetrate roof tiles, stop in the attic, and then unleash the ignited napalm bag like a firework. However, it's puzzling why they would ignite while still falling. Takahata-san tasked his assistant director with researching this mechanism, but the response was, "No such mechanism exists." Takahata-san, however, insisted, "I personally experienced running from these falling, burning bombs. My sister was even injured by them." Indeed, many others have provided similar accounts. Yet, this doesn't align with objective information regarding the purpose and mechanics of incendiary bombs. ――So, Director Takahata actually experienced this? Katabuchi: The assistant director conducted thorough research with the Self-Defense Forces, confirming there's no mechanism for mid-air ignition. Considering this, which account do you believe is correct? ――I can't help but think the investigation must be right. Katabuchi: We later discovered the answer, thanks to someone who had done proper research. Interestingly, it wasn't a university researcher. It was someone driven by a desire to understand the "corners" of the world. ――Could you explain how this mechanism worked? Katabuchi: Incendiary bombs were deployed as large cluster bombs, each containing 38 smaller bomblets. The main bomb would mechanically open, releasing the 38 bomblets to fall individually. These bomblets were designed to ignite the napalm only after penetrating roof tiles. Once ignited, the napalm bags would erupt like fireworks, setting the attic ablaze. It was an incredibly dangerous weapon. ――So, the fire would start after the bomb made impact? Katabuchi: Yes, it would launch napalm fireworks into inaccessible ceiling spaces. Once the gel-like gasoline adhered to the underside of the ceiling, it would cause devastating fires that quickly consumed houses. Because of this purpose, they weren't meant to ignite mid-air; premature ignition would render them useless. However, many American bombs and incendiaries at the time were duds. Often, the parent bomb failed to disperse, leaving the bomblets clustered together. In such scenarios, there was a backup plan. If mechanical dispersion failed, explosives were reportedly included as a secondary measure to forcibly scatter the bomblets. This might have led to premature ignition of the bomblets, and such a theory has emerged. ――So, the bomb didn't behave as it should. Both the testimony and the assistant director's research were accurate. Katabuchi: Precisely. It seems many people witnessed what appeared to be an accidental event. ――And it was ordinary citizens, like us, who investigated this. Katabuchi: The individual who conducted the research even published their findings in a doujinshi (laughs). Suzu-san was even featured on the cover. ――So it was actually distributed (laughs). Katabuchi: It would be wonderful to have more individuals worldwide who are experts on various "corners" of history. People who can admit, "I may not know everything about the war, but I am knowledgeable about this specific aspect." Some are experts on the cuisine of that era, others on the clothing. ――It's like everyone contributing their part, little by little. Katabuchi: I believe this desire to delve into the details can serve as a counterbalance to forming conclusions based solely on images and emotions. Reexamining Suzu-san's "Innocence" ――In our earlier conversation, you expressed a desire to delve into Suzu-san's character, particularly how she isn't entirely innocent, as symbolized in the "Imperial Edict on Surrender" scene. Katabuchi: In the original work, Suzu-san states, "We also committed acts of violence, so we have no choice but to submit to violence." This accurately portrays the reality of Japanese society at that time, a fact I do not dispute. ――In the film, Suzu-san's dialogue was altered to reference the food she was consuming. Katabuchi: I pondered, "What should be conveyed here to truthfully depict Japan's colonial rule?" Even among the Korean audience who viewed "In This Corner of the World," there are people who said it's established during the war. However, it actually commenced in 1910, and even earlier in Taiwan. ――Indeed, this predates Suzu-san's birth. Katabuchi: Taiwan has a warmer climate than Japan, while the Korean Peninsula is colder. I encountered historical accounts detailing the struggles to cultivate rice with a taste comparable to Japanese rice in these diverse climates. We must consider who benefited from these endeavors: the consumers in Japan. Suzu-san was consuming a portion of this daily. ――And that's how she became an accomplice in the violence. Katabuchi: In this context, her involvement was more direct than mere complicity. She directly consumed that rice. While there are no scenes depicting Suzu-san committing violence against anyone, she ate rice every day, didn't she? ――Are you suggesting that the act of eating itself was a direct form of violence? Katabuchi: Precisely. The rice her mother prepared, even the "Kusunoki rice," likely included grains from Taiwan and Korea. Even on the night the war ended, they cooked and ate the remaining rationed rice, and they will continue to do so. The core message is, "We will bear this burden as we live on." I believe we need to emphasize this meaning once again. ――I thought I understood, but it seems direct violence isn't limited to attacks with weapons or physical assault. Katabuchi: That's correct. Some argue it's simply a matter of Japan's wartime food self-sufficiency rate not reaching 100%. However, during the Edo period, they managed to eat without imports. If we question why it wasn't 100% in the Showa era, it's because Japan possessed overseas colonies. ――Is it akin to thinking, "We can just outsource it"? Katabuchi: Yes, exactly. They incorporated these "outsourcing destinations" as part of their own country, but fundamentally, these were other nations. We must consider that Suzu-san consumed rice under these circumstances and thoroughly re-examine this issue. ――With ongoing conflicts worldwide, this film's screening is particularly timely, and I anticipate a strong audience response. Katabuchi: Though of course, it offers a different angle than Suzu-san's perspective. Currently, wars are raging in Ukraine, Russia, Gaza, Iran, and Israel, affecting countless lives. Suzu-san was also a civilian subjected to bombings. She mirrors the experience of those living through these conflicts. If we can see those under threat today as being akin to Suzu-san, it offers a crucial insight. ――The new promotional visual highlights the "right hand," a powerful motif in the film, symbolizing Suzu-san's loss and the many casualties of war. Katabuchi: This new visual shows "Suzu-san being caressed by the right hand." Interestingly, as the war nears its end, Suzu-san becomes defiant, declaring, "This is our fight." The hand isn't caressing that specific part of her. So, why is Suzu being caressed in this way? I hope viewers will ponder this question when they see the visual. ――And the answer to that is...? Katabuchi: (Smiling) ... ――You won't tell us? Katabuchi: That's something for each viewer to discover for themselves. ――It's a contemplation for every viewer after experiencing the film. If we had more time, I might even come up with a good answer... Katabuchi: A good answer? Come on, this isn't a quiz show (laughs). ――(Laughs) I'll take it home as homework. Thank you very much for today. [Interview: Taira / Photography: Shuntaro Nishizawa / Editing: Inari Ogawa] About "In This Corner of the World" Synopsis The unprecedented circumstances 18-year-old Suzu has to face. The story begins when, in February 1944, for better or worse, Suzu becomes a bride in Kure, a major base of the Japanese Navy at that time. This was the city where the Navy's largest battleship, the 'Yamato', was also based in. As a bride in a strange land and coming from Hiroshima City, Suzu becomes the wife of civil official Shusaku Hojo. Moving in with her new husband's kind parents, she starts her new life along her very strict sister-in-law Keiko and her sweet daughter Harumi. Along with the nice neighbors Mrs. Chita, Mrs. Kariya and Mrs. Domoto, she discovers the joys of everyday life in Kure. However, supplies become scarce gradually, forcing Suzu to make do with whatever she can for food and clothing, still being able to sometimes draw a nice picture of their daily life. One day, Suzu gets lost in the city and meets a courtesan called Rin who is somehow linked to her. On another time, she meets her old classmate Mizuhara who has become a sailor in the cruiser 'Aoba', an encounter with unexpected mixed feelings. On March 19th 1945, Kure suffers several air raids that fill up the sky, and many things that Suzu cherished are lost. However, everyday life goes on. But then, the Summer of 1945 arrives... Cast Suzu Hojo: Non Shusaku Hojo: Yoshimasa Hosoya Harumi Kuromura: Natsuki Inaba Keiko Kuromura: Minori Omi Tetsu Mizuhara: Daisuke Ono Sumi Urano: Megumi Han Rin Shiroki: Nanase Iwai Entaro Hojo: Shigeru Ushiyama San Hojo: Mayumi Shintani Juro Urano: Tsuyoshi Koyama Kiseno Urano: Masumi Tsuda Ito Morita: Hisako Kyoda Kobayashi's Uncle: Nozomu Sasaki Kobayashi's Aunt: Tomoko Shiota Chita-san: Hiromi Seta Kariya-san: Kotone Tachibana Domoto-san: Kikuyo Seya ©Fumiyo Kouno/Futabasha/Konosekai no katasumini Project ※Some parts of this text have been translated using machine translation

Japan publisher sorry for column targeting people with foreign roots
Japan publisher sorry for column targeting people with foreign roots

Japan Today

time2 hours ago

  • Japan Today

Japan publisher sorry for column targeting people with foreign roots

A Japanese publisher has apologized for running a column in its weekly magazine last month that was criticized as discriminatory toward people with foreign roots and for promoting xenophobia. In the column in the July 31 issue of "Shukan Shincho," published by Shinchosha, journalist Masayuki Takayama discussed naturalization and attacked author Ushio Fukazawa -- who is of Korean descent -- for speaking out against discriminatory attitudes in Japan. Shinchosha said in a statement, "We offer our sincerest apologies. We are acutely aware of, and take responsibility for, our shortcomings as a publisher." "We recognize that while 'freedom of speech and expression' is extremely important, the scope of that freedom varies depending on the subject matter and social context, and changes over time," the publisher added. At a press conference the same day, Fukazawa said, "I wonder how frightened people with foreign roots must feel." She added, "I hope Japan remains a country where people from diverse backgrounds can live with pride." Comments condemning the column from around 40 individuals, including novelist Natsuo Kirino and manga artist Akiko Higashimura, were also presented. In the column, Takayama also bashed model Kiko Mizuhara for accusing a producer in the Japanese film industry of sexual harassment, saying, "She was born to an American and a Korean, and has absolutely no connection or ties to a Japanese." "It's hard to accept someone using a Japanese name while sounding as if they are exposing Japan from the inside. Shouldn't they speak openly under a foreign name instead?" he wrote. Shinchosha previously suspended publication of its monthly magazine "Shincho 45" after it was lambasted in 2018 for running a contributing piece that used a derogatory term to describe the LGBT community. © KYODO

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