Latest news with #body-shaming
Irish Times
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Oliver Callan gets acidic about the Orange Order
He may have a prime time slot on the nation's most popular radio station, but while Oliver Callan ( RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) has to appeal to a broad audience, he doesn't appear to have had much in the way of cultural sensitivity training. Opening his show on Monday, the host surveys the events of the previous weekend, paying particular attention to the Twelfth of July parades in the North . 'The Orangemen got their only exercise of the year,' Callan tartly observes, 'Loyal Orange lodges, the only thing they might be loyal to is sausage rolls, by the cut of a lot of them.' Now, Callan needn't unduly worry about offending the sensibilities of an organisation whose more dedicated followers celebrate their biggest holiday by burning effigies of refugees . But body-shaming them? That's the kind of thing that sets off alarms in HR. The presenter might want to be more cognisant of the feelings of others, or he'll be in hot water quicker than you can say 'citrus intolerance'. [ 'Isn't it brilliant' a mother says, photographing her children at the bonfire topped with an effigy of a migrant boat Opens in new window ] In Callan's defence, it's the only astringent note in an otherwise jolly week that has him broadcasting from across the northwest. Monday's programme comes from Donegal, where he gives his hot take on the demeanour of the locals. READ MORE 'They tell about three jokes, as dry as a chardonnay, every year,' Callan says, not unadmiringly, before praising natives of the county for shunning anything that smacks of ostentation, 'such as using your whole mouth to speak.' What did we say about not making fun of people's appearance, Mr Callan? When it comes to interviewing his guests, however, the host is benignity personified. He talks enthusiastically about Donegal's All-Ireland football semi-final win with the county's former manager Brian McEniff, who as a hotelier also provides his insights into the tourism trade this summer: 'Not great.' But such downbeat blips are the exception. Another veteran of the hotel business, Noel Cunningham, takes a more upbeat tack, talking up the hospitality available in Donegal. As he travels down the coast, Callan's monologues grow ever saucier. In Sligo on Tuesday, he jokes about catching a 'Yeats infection', while the following day's show from Mayo has him describing the Erris peninsula as a 'geographical Langer'. But again, a breezy mood prevails, with the host at his most chatty as he learns about local attractions such as Blacksod lighthouse, from where he broadcasts on Wednesday. None of this is groundbreaking nor even memorable, but it makes for easy summer listening, the good-natured proceedings enlivened by Callan's flash of acidic humour. It's also notable that he meets several local residents originally from foreign climes such as Australia, the Philippines and America, all of whom he gets on with famously. Happily, Callan has no problem with diversity. It's always a mixed bag on The Ray D'Arcy Show (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), as the host moves between items of varying substance. D'Arcy sounds most at ease when the subject is lightweight, literally so in the case of a 3D crocheted map of Ireland knitted by a group of Wicklow women. 'The best thing I've seen in a long time,' he tells Liz Butler of Carnew Community Care centre, 'It's spectacular.' But he also tackles more difficult topics, though the shifts in tone can be awkward. On Monday, as excavation works commence to recover infant remains on the site of the Tuam mother and baby home, he talks to local historian Catherine Corless, who uncovered the lack of burial records for 800 babies at the institution. D'Arcy's admiration for his guest is obvious, the host pointedly remarking that when she first revealed her findings 11 years ago, she was scoffed at by many. Local historian Catherine Corless, who uncovered the lack of burial records for 800 babies at Tuam. Photograph: Dan Dennison Asked how she now feels, Corless replies 'justice has been finally served', though she regrets it took so long for church and state authorities to act. But her account of how the home disposed the bodies of the dead infants still horrifies to the core. 'The babies were literally dropped down, placed on top of each other,' she says. 'The least we can do is give their dignity back.' D'Arcy wisely holds back throughout, leaving Corless to talk uninterrupted – her determination is palpable, even when calling from a train – though he makes one indisputable contribution: 'On behalf of the country, I want to thank you.' [ Tuam is a microcosm for Ireland's history of discarded bones Opens in new window ] The host sounds less sure of himself when speaking to Dublin poet Stephen James Smith. D'Arcy lurches between questions on his guest's move to Wexford, his work with arts and mental health charity First Fortnight, and the difference between a poem and a song. 'Where are we going now, Ray?' an amused Smith asks at one point. But amid it all, D'Arcy makes an admission that, far from suggesting uncertainty, speaks of a deeper curiosity beneath his on-air persona. 'I'm only coming to terms with how poetry can cut through things,' he says. Smith unsurprisingly agrees. 'We often turn to it in important times in our life,' the poet replies, 'It saved my life.' D'Arcy's show mightn't have quite that impact, but it can definitely surprise. Poetic matters are also pondered by Brendan O'Connor (RTÉ Radio 1, Saturday & Sunday), though to unnerving effect, when he asks if listeners can tell a poem written by a person from one generated by AI. 'The question is, if you can fake poetry, can you fake humanity and soul?' The answer isn't reassuring. Galway poet Rita Ann Higgins, whose disarmingly open manner is matched by her formidable literary gifts, reads two poems, one which she wrote, the other artificially generated in her style. O'Connor then invites journalist Mark Little to guess which is fake. Little, like 70 per cent of texters, chooses the wrong poem. Higgins, meanwhile, spots the sources 'scraped' by AI to imitate her style: 'I can see things I said in interviews.' Either way, host and guests – and surely listeners too – are unsettled by the experiment. After all, as Little notes, AI doesn't just play fast and loose with copyrighted content, it uses data based on the worst biases and prejudices of social media. It's not just people who need sensitivity training. Moment of the Week Music lovers of a certain vintage enjoy a flutter of nostalgia on Lyric FM on Monday evening, as John Kelly closes his consistently wonderful show Mystery Train . 'I think it's Donal later,' the host says, 'You're in safe hands.' He's speaking of Donal Dineen, who plays a dizzyingly varied selection of tracks as guest host on The Blue of The Night . 'There was a time when these two shows used to dock at the same station,' says Dineen, referring to the halcyon days when his show Here Comes the Night would follow Kelly's Eclectic Ballroom on Radio Ireland (now Today FM): both programmes brought new life to Irish music radio. It's good to hear the old gang back together again, however fleetingly.
Yahoo
15-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
'Butter': the foodie feminist bestseller skewering sexism in Japan
Japanese writer Asako Yuzuki did not expect her novel "Butter" to capture a cult following abroad, hailed as a biting feminist critique of sexism and body-shaming. Translated into English last year, the tale of murder and misogyny has whetted an insatiable appetite, selling 610,000 copies overseas, including 400,000 in Britain -- more than Japan -- where it won multiple awards. Yuzuki was inspired by the real-life story of "Black Widow" Kanae Kijima, a woman sentenced to death in 2012 for poisoning three men she met on dating sites. The sensationalised media coverage at the time largely focused on Kijima's appearance, speculating how someone described as homely and unattractive could be considered a femme fatale. Many credited her romantic success to her homemaking prowess -- notably in the kitchen. "When the case broke, the Japanese media mainly remembered that the suspect liked to cook and took classes ... to 'please men'," Yuzuki told AFP in an interview. "That deeply disturbed me." In "Butter", a journalist likewise disquieted by the portrayal of a Kijima-like character (renamed Kajii) writes to the jailed suspect, hoping to secure an exclusive interview by appealing to her gourmet tastes. Via a letter soliciting the beef stew recipe that Kajii reportedly fed her final victim, the pair begin an intimate and life-changing relationship. This proves a vehicle for Yuzuki to chew over the roots of misogyny in Japan, where traditional male and female roles still dominate and women are held to impossible beauty standards. In politics and boardrooms for example, women remain rare. Japan ranks 118 out of 146 in the World Economic Forum's 2025 Gender Gap Report. "Japan is a deeply patriarchal country. Very often, it is the father who occupies the central position within the family unit. This is the basis for laws even," Yuzuki said. - 'Fatphobia' - Food -- particularly butter, that artery-blocking symbol of pleasure and excess -- forms the molten core of the story. Through sumptuous descriptions of butter-rich ramen and lavishly buttered rice, Yuzuki explores the tension between indulging appetites and the self-denial required to fulfil the societal pressure on women to stay thin. "There is an incredible amount of adverts for weight loss, cosmetic surgery and diets. This country is obsessed with fatphobia," Yuzuki said. It is also tough for women in Japan, where the #MeToo movement never really took off, to speak out about discrimination and sexual assault. Shiori Ito, a journalist who took the rare step of publicly accusing a prominent Japanese TV reporter of rape -- a charge he denies -- is a case in point. Ito's documentary "Black Box Diaries", which was nominated for an Oscar, was not released in Japan because it used material recorded clandestinely or intended for judicial use only. "In other countries, especially the United States, from the beginning of #MeToo, many well-known journalists have seriously investigated these cases, and it is because this information was made public officially that the victims were able to be protected," Yuzuki said. But in Japan, "women who have had the courage to speak out are reduced to the role of activists and consumed by the media within that framework," she said. Another example is Masahiro Nakai, a boyband member and a star TV presenter accused of sexual assault. He initially disputed the facts and then apologised. The scandal shone a spotlight on the toxic culture of young women being pressed into attending dinners and drinking parties with powerful figures. "What strikes me is this uninterrupted chain of sexual violence, and especially that these are crimes committed within one organisation, covered up by another organisation... that of the media," Yuzuki said. Yuzuki is convinced that change can only come from outside. "When foreigners take up a topic, especially the English-language media, it completely changes the way it is perceived in Japan," she said. "If the European media" continue to be interested in these issues, then "the situation could perhaps change a little." cg/stu/lb
News.com.au
15-07-2025
- Entertainment
- News.com.au
'Butter': the foodie feminist bestseller skewering sexism in Japan
Japanese writer Asako Yuzuki did not expect her novel "Butter" to capture a cult following abroad, hailed as a biting feminist critique of sexism and body-shaming. Translated into English last year, the tale of murder and misogyny has whetted an insatiable appetite, selling 610,000 copies overseas, including 400,000 in Britain -- more than Japan -- where it won multiple awards. Yuzuki was inspired by the real-life story of "Black Widow" Kanae Kijima, a woman sentenced to death in 2012 for poisoning three men she met on dating sites. The sensationalised media coverage at the time largely focused on Kijima's appearance, speculating how someone described as homely and unattractive could be considered a femme fatale. Many credited her romantic success to her homemaking prowess -- notably in the kitchen. "When the case broke, the Japanese media mainly remembered that the suspect liked to cook and took classes ... to 'please men'," Yuzuki told AFP in an interview. "That deeply disturbed me." In "Butter", a journalist likewise disquieted by the portrayal of a Kijima-like character (renamed Kajii) writes to the jailed suspect, hoping to secure an exclusive interview by appealing to her gourmet tastes. Via a letter soliciting the beef stew recipe that Kajii reportedly fed her final victim, the pair begin an intimate and life-changing relationship. This proves a vehicle for Yuzuki to chew over the roots of misogyny in Japan, where traditional male and female roles still dominate and women are held to impossible beauty standards. In politics and boardrooms for example, women remain rare. Japan ranks 118 out of 146 in the World Economic Forum's 2025 Gender Gap Report. "Japan is a deeply patriarchal country. Very often, it is the father who occupies the central position within the family unit. This is the basis for laws even," Yuzuki said. - 'Fatphobia' - Food -- particularly butter, that artery-blocking symbol of pleasure and excess -- forms the molten core of the story. Through sumptuous descriptions of butter-rich ramen and lavishly buttered rice, Yuzuki explores the tension between indulging appetites and the self-denial required to fulfil the societal pressure on women to stay thin. "There is an incredible amount of adverts for weight loss, cosmetic surgery and diets. This country is obsessed with fatphobia," Yuzuki said. It is also tough for women in Japan, where the #MeToo movement never really took off, to speak out about discrimination and sexual assault. Shiori Ito, a journalist who took the rare step of publicly accusing a prominent Japanese TV reporter of rape -- a charge he denies -- is a case in point. Ito's documentary "Black Box Diaries", which was nominated for an Oscar, was not released in Japan because it used material recorded clandestinely or intended for judicial use only. "In other countries, especially the United States, from the beginning of #MeToo, many well-known journalists have seriously investigated these cases, and it is because this information was made public officially that the victims were able to be protected," Yuzuki said. But in Japan, "women who have had the courage to speak out are reduced to the role of activists and consumed by the media within that framework," she said. Another example is Masahiro Nakai, a boyband member and a star TV presenter accused of sexual assault. He initially disputed the facts and then apologised. The scandal shone a spotlight on the toxic culture of young women being pressed into attending dinners and drinking parties with powerful figures. "What strikes me is this uninterrupted chain of sexual violence, and especially that these are crimes committed within one organisation, covered up by another organisation... that of the media," Yuzuki said. Yuzuki is convinced that change can only come from outside. "When foreigners take up a topic, especially the English-language media, it completely changes the way it is perceived in Japan," she said. "If the European media" continue to be interested in these issues, then "the situation could perhaps change a little."
Malay Mail
15-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Malay Mail
Murder, misogyny and a side of stew: Japan's feminist cult novel ‘Butter' stirs the pot overseas
TOKYO, July 15 — Japanese writer Asako Yuzuki did not expect her novel Butter to capture a cult following abroad, hailed as a biting feminist critique of sexism and body-shaming. Translated into English last year, the tale of murder and misogyny has whetted an insatiable appetite, selling 610,000 copies overseas, including 400,000 in Britain — more than Japan — where it won multiple awards. Yuzuki was inspired by the real-life story of 'Black Widow' Kanae Kijima, a woman sentenced to death in 2012 for poisoning three men she met on dating sites. The sensationalised media coverage at the time largely focused on Kijima's appearance, speculating how someone described as homely and unattractive could be considered a femme fatale. Many credited her romantic success to her homemaking prowess — notably in the kitchen. 'When the case broke, the Japanese media mainly remembered that the suspect liked to cook and took classes ... to 'please men',' Yuzuki told AFP in an interview. 'That deeply disturbed me.' In Butter, a journalist likewise disquieted by the portrayal of a Kijima-like character (renamed Kajii) writes to the jailed suspect, hoping to secure an exclusive interview by appealing to her gourmet tastes. Via a letter soliciting the beef stew recipe that Kajii reportedly fed her final victim, the pair begin an intimate and life-changing relationship. This proves a vehicle for Yuzuki to chew over the roots of misogyny in Japan, where traditional male and female roles still dominate and women are held to impossible beauty standards. In politics and boardrooms for example, women remain rare. Japan ranks 118 out of 146 in the World Economic Forum's 2025 Gender Gap Report. 'Japan is a deeply patriarchal country. Very often, it is the father who occupies the central position within the family unit. This is the basis for laws even,' Yuzuki said. 'Fatphobia' Food — particularly butter, that artery-blocking symbol of pleasure and excess — forms the molten core of the story. Through sumptuous descriptions of butter-rich ramen and lavishly buttered rice, Yuzuki explores the tension between indulging appetites and the self-denial required to fulfil the societal pressure on women to stay thin. 'There is an incredible amount of adverts for weight loss, cosmetic surgery and diets. This country is obsessed with fatphobia,' Yuzuki said. It is also tough for women in Japan, where the #MeToo movement never really took off, to speak out about discrimination and sexual assault. Shiori Ito, a journalist who took the rare step of publicly accusing a prominent Japanese TV reporter of rape — a charge he denies — is a case in point. Ito's documentary Black Box Diaries, which was nominated for an Oscar, was not released in Japan because it used material recorded clandestinely or intended for judicial use only. 'In other countries, especially the United States, from the beginning of #MeToo, many well-known journalists have seriously investigated these cases, and it is because this information was made public officially that the victims were able to be protected,' Yuzuki said. But in Japan, 'women who have had the courage to speak out are reduced to the role of activists and consumed by the media within that framework,' she said. Another example is Masahiro Nakai, a boyband member and a star TV presenter accused of sexual assault. He initially disputed the facts and then apologised. The scandal shone a spotlight on the toxic culture of young women being pressed into attending dinners and drinking parties with powerful figures. 'What strikes me is this uninterrupted chain of sexual violence, and especially that these are crimes committed within one organisation, covered up by another organisation... that of the media,' Yuzuki said. Yuzuki is convinced that change can only come from outside. 'When foreigners take up a topic, especially the English-language media, it completely changes the way it is perceived in Japan,' she said. 'If the European media' continue to be interested in these issues, then 'the situation could perhaps change a little.' — AFP
