‘Superior Title, Inferior Book’-Kenneth Swope’s “A Dragon’s Head and a Serpent’s Tail”

Kenneth Swope’s new book on the Bunroku/Keicho No Eki (the Japanese invasions of Korea in 1592 and 1597) carries the title of another Japanese name for the conflict: “A Dragon’s Head and A Serpent’s Tail”, referring to something that has an impressive beginning but no real end. It’s an inspired title, easily the best among English language books on the war (if only because Stephen Turnbull’s publishers nixed the ‘Hunting the Tiger’ title Turnbull had originally planned for ‘Samurai Invasion’). In homage to Swope’s articles that have a ‘dual’ title (such as ‘Yi Said, Li Said’ or ‘Crouching Tigers, Secret Weapons’) we’ve went the same route and called this review ‘Superior Title, Inferior Book’. Disappointingly, the book has failed to even begin to live up to the expectations many had for it when Swope promoted it in his critiques of other English language books on the war. It’s a work written with no small amount of bias and many errors of fact and interpretation.

For the most part, one cannot fault Swope for a poor research ethic. There are fully 26 pages of works citied as sources, providing many excellent avenues of study for readers. As will be discussed later, the preponderance of Chinese sources works against it to a degree. For his Japanese sources, Swope relies too heavily on gunkimono (Japanese war tales, mixing fiction with reality and usually greatly exaggerated). He states that Chinese and Korean sources address supply, intelligence, and planning far more than Japanese accounts which stress the exploits of individual warriors. This is a direct result of relying on gunkimono-had Swope sought out letters and reports used by individual daimyo, he would have found them to be much the same as the reports of their mainland Asian foes. In another example, Swope uses as a source “Matsura Hoin Seikan Nikki”, a gunkimono written by descendants of Matsura Shigenobu (one of Konishi Yukinaga’s sub-commanders in the 1st Division). Here, Swope states “When he finally arrived at Nagoya, Hideyoshi stoked the troops’ battle lust with another bombastic speech…At the sound of a gong, the sails fluttered, and the vessels launched in unison, firing flaming arrows into the sky to mark their departure”. Well, obviously Swope is here using pejorative language when describing the Japanese (something he does throughout the book-more on that later), but that’s not the point. The point is that Hideyoshi was nowhere near Nagoya when the Matsura and the invasion force departed. Letters and other contemporary documents show he was still well over a week away. The “Matsura Hoin” was a history put together almost 300 years after the fact. It was written to not only play to the extreme anti-Korean sentiment of the Meiji era, but also to link the Matsura family with Hideyoshi (whose reputation was once again in favor during the Meiji period, both as a symbol of anti-Tokugawa rule and for his invasions of Korea). But again, Swope’s reliance on and inability to evaluate gunkimono (and using Meiji period gunkimono on top of that) results in presenting fantasy as fact. These contemporary letters and reports are harder to find than Korean or especially Chinese ones-matters of war were largely left up to individual daimyo rather than filtered through a bureaucracy and ending up in one place. Hence, the most reliable Japanese records tend to be scattered throughout museums, temples, and individual collections-but they’re out there and would have made far better sources.

Swope also uses secondary sources such as James Murdoch’s “A History of Japan” or George Sansom’s “A History of Japan” for descriptions and background. These works are considered outdated by the Japanese historical community and (in Murdoch’s case) largely of only historiographical use. Swope also curiously addresses sources and issues that haven’t been advanced by academia for many years-most notably the claim that the Japanese lost the war only due to the death of Hideyoshi, something that no scholar has seriously considered for years. Does anyone else consider Sansom a ‘modern’ writer? Despite all this, Swope has certainly done his homework and brought quite a bit of material to the table.

However, research is only the beginning-how it is used and interpreted is by far the most important part of the academic equation. Swope falls well short in this aspect, making the evidence fit his foredrawn conclusion (that the Ming army was a highly advanced and capable war machine that was the primary cause of the Japanese defeat) rather than let the facts lead him to one. While he examines Japanese sources with a critical eye (as well he should), this rarely extends to Ming sources which are almost always accepted at face value. Given the fact that Ming battle reports and memorials are well known to be every bit as self-serving and exaggerated as Japanese records (illustrated in his text by lies that were so huge, even the Chinese felt the need to investigate them), his faith in them is rather unwarranted. Swope further ‘gilds the lily’ by his choices of language and presentation when dealing with either side. For example, Swope writes about two different sieges-both situations where the defenders were sorely outnumbered and bereft of supplies, but in one case being the Chinese and the other the Japanese. Of the Chinese defenders of Namwon Swope writes “The overmatched defenders somehow managed to hold out against incredible odds for four days”, but the Japanese defenders of Ulsan are dismissed as “crumbling and they were on the verge of capitulating”. One would never suspect that the Chinese were routed by the Japanese in both battles. Among other superlatives, the Ming are routinely described by Swope as ‘heroic’, ‘superior’, ‘valiant’, ‘crushing’, and seemingly possessing nothing but ‘crack troops’. This type of wordplay glorifying the Ming and downplaying the Japanese (and also the Ming’s Korean allies) unfortunately infests the book and works to undermine Swope’s credibility. Swope states that the 2nd invasion “might have been avoided entirely had it not been for the pride of Hideyoshi and Sonjo, both of whom were too stubborn to yield to their rival.” Including Hideyoshi is completely justified. But not only was Sonjo completely left out of the peace negotiations, Swope ignores the fact that it was Ming inflexibility and pride combined with Hideyoshi’s that led to the second Japanese assault. The Ming are given virtually all the credit for the defeat of the Japanese forces in Korea-even though the Japanese were already defeated by the time the Ming found time to aid the Koreans. The Korean navy in concert with the Korean Righteous Armies and guerillas had strangled Japanese supply lines, stopped the Japanese assault, confined it to a narrow corridor, and begun to chip away at Japanese gains. Combined with some of the roughest terrain on Earth, the harsh Korean winter, and rampant disease, the Japanese defeat was just a matter of time. While there is no doubt the Ming numbers and presence sped up this process, to give them the lion’s share of the victory is a dubious proposition (especially since, outside of Chiksan, they were routinely defeated by the Japanese in most land engagements and performed poorly in those they managed to win, such as at Pyongyang).

The book leaves itself open to virtually all the criticism Swope leveled at other books dealing with the Bunroku/Keicho No Eki-these being primarily Stephen Turnbull’s “Samurai Invasion” and Samuel Hawley’s “The Imjin War”. Swope calls both Turnbull and Hawley to task for writing from an isolated perspective (Turnbull from the Japanese, Hawley from the Korean) and chastises them for using primarily Japanese and Korean sources. However, Swope comes right out and admits his work is written “primarily from the Ming perspective and relies far more on Chinese sources than those produced by Koreans and Japanese”. Further, while neither Turnbull nor Hawley seem to have a nationalistic agenda in mind, as discussed above it appears that Swope does. Turnbull is accused of “glossing over Japanese atrocities by blaming them on ‘lesser soldiers not in the first rank of samurai heroes.’” Swope does the same thing with Ming atrocities against their Korean allies, admitting to misconduct by the lower ranks but emphasizing (largely unconvincingly) that officers attempted to keep these under control. It's rather difficult to believe Ming officers weren't heavily involved with atrocities against the Koreans when the heads they presented to their superiors as trophies often included those of Korean peasant women. One can visualize a sheepish Ming officer mumbling "Gee, how'd THAT get in there?". And finally, in the course of a particularly vicious review left on Amazon for Hawley’s ‘Imjin War’, Swope calls Hawley’s book “little more than a basic narrative”. Swope admits his book is “to present a narrative of The First Great East Asian War for the broader community of military historians.” Turnbull and Hawley, meet the pot to your kettles.

Based on the text, it seems Swope has little more than a basic understanding of Japanese history. The book has a liberal dose of errors to confirm this, including small ones (such as stating that Akechi Mitsuhide forced Oda Nobunaga to commit seppuku, when in fact no one knows for certain how Nobunaga died) and medium sized ones (such as stating that Hideyori was Hideyoshi’s first son-he was actually his second, and the death of Hideyoshi’s first son was a major factor in the Taiko’s fawning upon Hideyori). There are larger errors as well, such as Swope claiming that Neo-Confucianism was introduced to Japan by Korean scholars kidnapped in the course of the war. By that time Neo-Confucianism had been around Japan for centuries (since the early Kamakura period, 1185-1333) with members of the Imperial Court such as the Fujiwara and other Japanese scholars of Chinese culture holding forth on it for the edification of various nobles and daimyo. However, it manifests itself most prominently in Swope’s apparent lack of knowledge of Japanese battle tactics. Time and time again we are told that the Japanese altered their tactics out of fear of the Ming army and the might of their artillery. For example, Swope states that “The Battle Of Pyongyang convinced them (the Japanese) that they could not go head to head with the Ming when the latter could bring their big guns to bear…For the rest of the war, the Japanese preferred to use ambushes and hit-and-run tactics against the Chinese.” He goes on to state that in response to Chinese artillery the Japanese preferred to fight from fortified positions. This was nothing new-the Japanese had been fighting this way for years and these tactics were in no way adopted in response to the Ming army. Ambushes, hit-and-run attacks with mounted archers, and surprise attacks had long been a favored weapon in the Japanese arsenal (dating back to at least the gunkimono of the 10th century). Preferring to fight from defensive positions also goes back that far, and became increasingly prevalent in response to the increasingly large number of firearms being used in the later years of the Sengoku. After Nagashino proved the strength of a well thought out defensive position manned with gunners (even as few as 1000 or less, according to some accounts), Japanese warfare increasingly had become a contest to see who could lure who out of their fortifications first. The defensive mentality of the Japanese is illustrated by the fact that at Pyongyang they fought from a fortified, defensive position-BEFORE they had encountered the supposed might of Ming artillery (and rendering Swope’s argument invalid). Their approach remained roughly the same throughout the war-the only real difference between Pyongyang and Ulsan or Sachon is that the Japanese were using Korean fortifications in the former, and their own better designed and more effective structures in the latter. Swope would have been well served to have had a scholar well versed in Japanese history read his manuscript before publication-many of these errors and misconceptions could have been prevented. This underlines one of the major roadblocks to a ‘definitive’ history of the Korean Invasions-it would be difficult to find a scholar with outstanding knowledge of the history of the three major parties. To date, the three major works have all been written from the perspective of one or the other.

Nomenclature also seems to be a problem for the book. Swope states that the Shimazu wajou (a Japanese-style castle built in Korea) on Cheju Island (containing 2000 men) had 105 artillery pieces. Yes, 105. It would make for an interesting study to see if there existed 105 pieces of what is traditionally considered artillery (a mounted gun, either in an emplacement or carriage) across the whole of Japan in 1593, much less in a small coastal fort staffed by only 2000 men in Korea. Instead, it appears that only one of the guns would be properly considered artillery (and was most likely a captured Korean gun at that) with the rest being the heavier gauge arquebus that many Japanese units had (and that were occasionally fired from improvised emplacements). This calls into question whether the figures given for Ming artillery use the same rather loose definition.

Problems extend to all facets of the book, ranging from largely useless maps to poorly-formatted endnotes. Most of the maps only show city locations, not troop movements, and the couple that do so look (quite) a bit like maps seen in Turnbull’s book. The maps are poorly coordinated with the text-there are plenty of locations and names plotted that are not mentioned in the text, but many that do appear in the text aren’t noted on the maps. Names used on the maps do not always match with the ones used by Swope (one would presume they’re using different methods of Romanization). Dates used on the maps differ from the text, one appearing to use the Chinese calendar and the other the Western calendar. There are also several maps of China proper that have little to do with the Korean conflict. Swope uses endnotes rather than the more scholarly footnotes, making it inconvenient to check and note sources. He also uses ‘block endnotes’-every citation within a paragraph is listed in a combined entry, at times making it difficult to tell which source a quote or statistic is coming from. Many times facts pertinent to a discussion are hidden this way, such as a Chinese account of a Japanese envoy telling them that Oda Nobunaga had slain the King Of Japan (Swope correctly states this as being false in the endnotes, but would have been better served doing so in the text). There are also the inevitable typos and grammar errors that work their way into any work of this size-for example, Song Yingchang (Ming military commissioner of Korea in 1592-1593) is spelled Sang Yingchang on page 301. And while not an error per se, the use of anachronistic words such as ‘blitzkrieg’ and ‘kulturepolitik’ in referring to the conflict does seem more in keeping with a popular rather than a scholarly account. Style wise, Swope repeats certain words and phrases over and over…and over and over and over. Some of these include ‘superior’, ‘crushed’, ‘heroic’, ‘crack troops’, and ‘rained bullets’. The book has also been criticized for reading like a chapter of a biography of the Wanli Emperor rather than an account of the Korean invasions.

Swope at times even mangles Chinese and Korean history. He states that Chinese commander Song Yingchang led troops into battle at Pyongyang. According to the "Ming Shi" (History Of The Ming) as well as Song's own letters, Song at no time was present in Korea. Swope is inconsistent with his Romanization of Korean proper and place names. He also seems to have 'picked and choosed' his Korean sources with an eye on glorifying the Ming-for example, he heavily leans on "Record Of A Rebuilt Tributary State", written by a Korean author who was known to have sung the praises of the Ming more than any other contemporary. But well known Korean sources that were critical of the Ming such as "Veritable Records Of The Choson Dynasty" are never mentioned, let alone used. This further points to only the evidence that supports his central thesis being presented.

This isn’t to say that the book is completely without merit. It does give some interesting insights into the bureaucracy of the Ming and their methods for raising, supplying, and deploying troops. It paints an excellent picture of the difficulties involved in fielding and transporting armies of this era in Asian history and the massive effect that supply had on strategy-an aspect of warfare that is too often passed over and downplayed in many histories. The overwhelming bureaucracy of the Ming and the involvement of civilian officials in warfare goes a long way towards explaining the substandard performance of the Ming army during the course of the conflict. When combined with the constant arguing with their Korean allies, it’s a miracle they were able to accomplish anything at all. Swope also takes some of the shine off the legend of Korean Admiral Yi, something which was sorely needed in English language treatments of the war. While Yi was indeed a major factor in the conflict and a master motivator who maximized the huge advantage his ships and armaments gave him, there’s little question his role has been glorified and overblown. Swope gives concrete examples where the legend did not quite match up with reality. There's a handy list of figures playing a part in the conflict with a short description of the part they played or office they held. Swope has a seven page listing of Chinese characters for many of the place and proper names used in the text, a great aid for those searching for more information and far preferable to including them piecemeal in the text (although it's touched by the error bug too, as when Mouri Hidemoto's name is given an additional spurious kanji character).

As is, “A Dragon’s Head and a Serpent’s Tail” forms the weakest corner of a triangle comprised also of Turnbull’s “Samurai Invasion” and Hawley’s “The Imjin War”. Perhaps those enamored of the Wanli Emperor and convinced of the incredible fighting prowess of the Ming will find it a ‘must-have’-but in Swope’s words (if not his context), “Those seeking a serious and nuanced understanding of this conflict should best look elsewhere.” We found it a major disappointment-a biased and largely uncritical book with little to add that had not already been said by Turnbull or Hawley. The lack of new information is particularly galling in the light of Swope’s promises and hints that his much heralded Chinese sources would shed a whole new light on the war. In effect, all they did was prove that Ming officers and bureaucrats were easily the match of the Japanese and Admiral Yi in glorifying and exaggerating their accomplishments, and as quick to blame others for failures as the Japanese and Koreans. Swope also makes an unconvincing argument that the war should be considered “The First Great East Asian War”-do we really need another name for a conflict that has a dozen or more already? This book is destined to become the Chinese history counterpart to the Korea-centric “Admiral Yi and His Turtleboat Armada” (although, to be fair, not quite THAT bad). It is better than Turnbull’s 96-page stinker for Osprey, “The Samurai Invasion of Korea”, but not Turnbull’s original “Samurai Invasion” (which remains the strongest English language work on the war from a purely military standpoint). Hawley’s Imjin War, even with its assorted flaws, remains the best overall treatment of the conflict. Reading all three and getting each perspective would likely give the reader a solid overview of the war. However, the position of “Definitive English Language Account of Hideyoshi’s Korean Invasions” remains unclaimed and open. Any takers?

It's Tough Being A Man-Animeigo's Tora-san DVD Set

While there have been some long-lived film franchises in the West (most notably James Bond, Friday the 13th, and various other horror films), it's hard to believe that a series could make it to 48 films-all starring the same actor in the lead role. Animeigo's new four film "Tora-san" DVD boxed set is the first time that this iconic film series has been presented on home video for Western audiences. Actor Atsumi Kiyoshi made the character of Kuruma Torajio his own, and came to identify with the part so much that he turned down parts in other films that he thought might cause backlash against Tora-san. The series began in 1969 and only ended in 1996 with Atsumi's death. In between, Japanese audiences looking to capture the feeling of nostalgia these films were infused with filled theaters twice a year (or once, during the later years of the series) and helped keep Shochiku studios afloat during some tough times in the Japanese film industry.



The first film in the set is "Our Lovable Tramp". The Japanese title for this 1969 release, Otoko Wa Tsurai Yo ('It's Tough Being A Man') became the umbrella title for the entire series. As with most initial films of a series, this one is notable for establishing the main characters, their backstory, and the locale. Here Tora-san, a rough-around-the-edges peddler who had left home at an early age after a fight with his father, decides to return to Shibamata in Tokyo after 20 years. His parents and older brother have all passed away, but his sister Sakura is still living there with 'Uncle' and 'Auntie'. Tora-san attempts to reestablish himself with them, but his loutish behavior ruins Sakura's miai (a meeting that introduces the proposed partners in an arranged marriage). Also introduced is the group of workers in the factory next door that play a big part in the series-one of them, Hiroshi, is taken to task by Tora-san for showing too much interest in his sister. Tora's now-and-future flunkies (it's hard to imagine someone less capable than Tora, but there you go), Noboru and Gen, are introduced. And of course, it wouldn't be a Tora-san film if Tora didn't fall hard for a woman he can't have-in this case, Fuyuko, the daughter of the local temple's chief priest, Gozen-sama (a wonderful performance by Ryu Chishu). The humor's not as pronounced in the first film as it would become in later entries, and it plays largely like a drama. It does have its moments, though, especially during the miai's dinner and with Tora-san chasing after Fuyuko with an inflatable Nara souvenir deer.

Also released in 1969 was "Tora-san's Cherished Mother" (Zoku Otoko Wa Tsurai Yo). As explained in the first film, Tora's birth mother was a geisha and Tora himself was a 'mistake' made by his father. Tora learns that she has retired from being a geisha and is running a hotel in Kyoto. With visions of the perfect reunion playing in his head, he sets out for Kyoto to find her. He's aided by Natsuko, the daughter of his old schoolteacher, Sanpo. The elegant older woman Tora meets outside the hotel proves to be everything he had anticipated-but he's in for a big surprise. The humor in the second film is much more obvious with Tora faking injuries to win Natsuko's sympathy, having drinking bouts with Sanpo, finding himself in a kitchy "Love Hotel" with a nervous Fuyuko, and having to deal with a mother that turned out to be not what he had envisioned.


1970 saw the debut of the third film, "Tora-san: His Tender Love" (Otoko Wa Tsurai Yo: Futen No Tora). Once again, Tora leaves home when the attempts of his family to arrange a marriage for him result in Tora reuniting the woman with her real love. Tora takes up a position working at a hot springs resort to get closer to its owner, Oshizu. By now, you KNOW this relationship is not going to end well for Tora, but getting to that point is half the fun. Amazing coincidences abound-Tora's Auntie and Uncle just happen to take a vacation at the same resort that Tora's working at. The biker that Tora faces off with on a bridge turns out to be Oshizu's brother. Tora's character continues to become softer around the edges, a bit more sentimental, and a little less combative.


Rounding out the set is 1970's "Tora-san's Grand Scheme" (Shin Otoko Wa Tsurai Yo). Tora has hit it big at the racetrack and wants to use his winnings to send his Auntie and Uncle on their dream vacation to Hawaii. Of course, this doesn't come off as planned, and circumstances dictate that Tora and his family are unable to turn over a captured burglar to the police without losing face because of it. Tora again comes off looking like an idiot, and insult is added to injury when his family rents out his room to a schoolteacher after he once again takes to the road. Tora is incensed until he falls in love with the sexy young teacher, becoming smote to the point of taking part in the activities of her kindergarten-aged class. Could this be the one? Well, probably not, but Tora continues to become more of a nice guy with every passing movie-definitely not the same guy that slapped his sister across the face in part one.

It was a good decision on Animeigo's part to release the first four films together. This allows the real strengths and appeal of the Tora-san series to shine through, something that likely would not have been the case if only the first one had been released. The Tora-san series gives a real sense of family-the actors playing the different parts tended to stay with the roles and appear throughout the series, led by Atsumi's record-breaking feat of starring in all 48 films. In many ways, it's much like a TV series-the characters are the main attraction, and the plots become somewhat incidental to watching them. The Tora-san films are tough to classify-they're not straightforward dramas, but they're not really comedies. They have elements of romances, but don't quite fit that genre either. They don't have much in the way of action, and aside from the odd kaiju in a dream sequence, not much in the way of special effects either. What is it that gave them the massive appeal they have for Japanese audiences?

Over the course of the 27 years of the series, we watch the different members get married, have children, change jobs, go through personal problems, all the while against the shifting backdrop of four different decades of Tokyo-in one case (Sakura's son), the same actor plays the part from infancy to adulthood, lending it an air of watching a real family's life play out. In a country featuring festivals (most notably the Obon festivals in July and August) where everyone is encouraged to return to their hometowns and an entire song genre devoted to invoking a feeling of nostalgia (enka), it's easy to see where Tora-san's appeal to a Japanese audience would be. The nostalgic aspect is reinforced by bits and motifs that appear in each film-Tora's opening monologue about his birth and background, the same goofy song the workers next door try to use to impress women, many of Tora's stock phrases (such as his tired refrain, "It's tough being a man"), and the description of Tora's face as being 'like a sandal'. The simpler times where family meant more than possessions and the old ways of Japanese life had not been somewhat cast aside for Western ways were a big attraction for the average Japanese viewer. Interestingly, while many Westerners seem to think that the sentimental Japan of Tora-san's world never really existed, we can vouch that even in a big city like Kyoto, many neighborhoods just like this one are still around (Stuart Galbraith mentions the same thing on his commentary-wonder what part of Kyoto he lives in?). While watching the films, we were struck by the similarities. Perhaps getting a glimpse of Japanese culture in transition will be a major area of interest for many Western audiences checking out the films.

Another aspect of the Tora-san series that Japanese moviegoers enjoyed was living vicariously through Tora. In a society that largely stresses proper, polite, and understated behavior, Tora was the nail that sticks out. While he continuously was hammered back down, he never let it keep him down for long-even using his misfortunes as fodder for funny stories on a train or ship that made him the center of attention. His occupation as an itinerant peddler allowed him to travel all over Japan at his whim, completely free from the day to day routine of the average Japanese. One reviewer has even mentioned that the films function as a sort of travelogue, with Tora turning up virtually everywhere in Japan during the 48 films.

It's interesting watching Atsumi's character subtly transform through the four films. After having been away from family for twenty years, Tora initially fancies himself as a tough, yakuza style guy with a hard attitude. As he begins to integrate more with his real family and build closer relationships, it slowly begins to soften. The Tora of film four is noticeably kinder and less grating than the one seen in the first film-but sadly for him, no more successful with the ladies. Atsumi rarely misses a step as Tora-everything about the character rings true, no matter how absurd or wild his actions might seem. The rest of the cast is equally at home with their characters.

Extras for the four-disc set are of Animeigo's typical high quality, although discs two through four appear a bit short on them (especially when compared to disc one's haul). There's a well written 28 page booklet with essays on the series by many well-known Japanese film scholars such as Michael Jeck, Donald Richie, Stuart Galbraith IV, Kevin Thomas, and others. It also includes a message from the director of all but two of the Tora-san films, Yamada Yoji (who is best known around the Samurai Archives for his recent 'Samurai Trilogy' of films). Disc One includes a commentary on the film and the series as a whole by Stuart Galbraith IV, and he does an outstanding job. Galbraith has a real feel for and understanding of Japanese culture, giving weight to most of his observations. The program notes for disc one are extensive as well, and in them Animeigo does its best to explain some of the comedic wordplay Tora-san routinely engages in. This is probably the one aspect of the films that will be hardest for Western audiences to enjoy, so it might be helpful to check out the program notes first before watching the film. There's an interactive map (which unfortunately is the same for all four discs) showing Tora-san's travels and also a detailed map of his hometown in Shibamata in Tokyo. Rounding things out on disc one are cast and crew bios, trailers, and an image gallery. Discs two through four have program notes (although as previously mentioned these are somewhat abbreviated-I can't believe Animeigo didn't bite at the oppotunity to explain a 'Love Hotel' for Disc Two!), the map, bios, trailers, and image galleries. Animeigo has even beefed up their always outstanding subtitles-disc one has an option for experimental 'basic subtitles' that make for faster reading for those new to foreign films.

In any type of continuing series, the question usually boils down to one thing: will the viewer be looking forward to the next installment? In our case, the answer was a definite YES-we found Tora-san's little corner of Tokyo fascinating, charming, and full of surprises. His friends and family could easily have been the people from our neighborhood in Kyoto. We hope that the series hits it big with Western audiences so that we can continue following the antics of 'Japan's Most Beloved Loser' and his family for, say, 44 more films. Tora-san might be a loser, but the DVD set is a sure winner. You can buy the boxed set directly from Animeigo or at Amazon.

Selling Sekigahara: The Legacy Of The Taiga Drama

One of the more popular manifestations of pop culture history in Japan is the yearly Taiga Drama produced by national public TV station NHK. Beginning in 1963 and usually based on popular historical novels, they’ve featured virtually every period of Japanese history. They can range from sticking to history closely (2000’s Aoi Tokugawa Sandai) to deviating wildly from it (2003’s Musashi). This year’s drama, Tenchijin, falls in between the two extremes as far as historical accuracy goes. The story of Uesugi vassal Naoe Kanetsugu seems to have proven popular among both Japanese audiences and Western ones alike. With a new hour long episode every week of the year, it provides something for Japanese history buffs to look forward to on a regular basis. Most Taigas have a short ‘historical’ segment at the end, providing background on one of the personalities or places featured during the main body of the episode, helping to spark curiosity and boost tourism. These short segments reinforce the mini-boom of interest in the subject matter that Taigas create, with documentary programs, books, biographies, movies, video games (there have actually been licensed video games based on the official Taigas), board games, and all sorts of novelty merchandise being created to cash in on heightened awareness. Tenchijin is no different, not only making Naoe a ‘star’, but also popularizing his cohort Ishida Mitsunari. Ishida was the ill-fated commander of the so-called ‘Army of the West’ opposing the eventual victor Tokugawa Ieyasu and his ‘Army of the East’ in the Sekigahara campaign. Sekigahara was also the epitome of Naoe’s career, as he and the Uesugi clan played a major part in how the campaign in the northeast played out. This past October was the anniversary of Sekigahara, and late September saw a slew of new books, games, and the like released to tie in with Tenchijin (although not as many as were seen during the battle’s 400th anniversary in 2000 in conjunction with the Aoi Tokugawa Sandai Taiga). This week, we’re going to be taking a look at some of these Japanese language releases.

Most Shogun-ki readers will be familiar with Rekishi Gunzou, Gakken’s lavishly illustrated pop culture ‘mooks’ (a hybrid of a magazine/book). They’ve produced many mooks dealing with Sekigahara over the years (and reprinting a lot of the same stuff with a new title), but this September added a new twist to Sekigahara. They released ‘Sekigahara No Tatakai (関ヶ原の戦い, Battle of Sekigahara)’…in 3-D. Yes, there’s a pair of 3-D glasses bound into the book with a large fold-out map that features a 3-D view of the battlefield complete with troop positions. This is the only part of the 96 page book to get the 3-D treatment-but the combination of maps of the campaign and the battle, gorgeous artwork, photos of artifacts, and engaging text make it an entertaining and fun read. There’s a four page timeline of events from the campaign along with the page numbers in the book where they’re examined. There are over three dozen maps (divided among traditional ‘plain’ maps and bird’s eye views of the battles in progress), and every aspect of the campaign is covered. Whether you want to know about the activities of Kato and Kuroda in Kyushu, Hidetada’s dalliance with the Sanada at Ueda Castle, the battles around the Maeda holdings in Kaga, the many castle sieges, or the fighting between the Uesugi and Date factions in northeast Japan, you’ll find them all multiply mapped out. There are extensive sidebars that examine the key figures and commanders of the campaign as well. For lesser known figures, there’s an additional section full of mini-biographies. Finally, the reverse side of the large 3-D fold out map shows the layout of Sekigahara today along with rail stations and directions to tourist attractions on the battlefield, each of which has an accompanying photograph. This little treasure is cover priced at ￥1300.

Released a bit earlier this year was a similar work, Kessen Sekigahara (決戦関ヶ原, Decisive Battle of Sekigahara), #11 in Futabasha’s series of mooks that recreate Japanese history through the use of computer graphics. In many aspects it’s similar to the aforementioned Rekishi Gunzou volume-heavy on illustrations and light on text. However, the maps and battlefield tableaus are recreated using CG and miniatures, giving things a more realistic look. It focuses more on the actual battle than the Gakken book, but gives you a real feel for how it played out. You’ll be put right behind the barricades in Ishida’s camp and in the middle of the Shimazu’s escape through the ranks of the Eastern Army. The view from the Tokugawa headquarters that takes in the entire battlefield and all the troops scattered about is not only gorgeous, but helpful for understanding Japanese tactical warfare. The castles that took part in the sieges surrounding the campaign such as Osaka and Fushimi are elaborately rendered and ‘reconstructed’ in CG. Many Sekigahara painted screens are broken down and examined in detail. There are illustrations of individual troop types and the gear they would carry. It also contains artwork similar to that used for Osprey books-these feature key points from the battle, such as Ieyasu biting his nails waiting for Kobayakawa to defect, Mitsunari receiving news of the inaction of the Mouri and Kobayakawa, and the escape of the Shimazu troops after the battle had been lost by the Western Army. It also has great ‘regular’ maps in the back showing what area of Japan was controlled by which daimyo at the time of the battle, along with a chart showing their holdings, wealth, troops they could muster, and other information. This book also has a ‘tourism’ section; however, it shows many of the sites associated with the campaign rather than just the battlefield. While smaller than the Gakken book at 52 pages, it’s priced to sell at ￥933.

Sekigahara has been a favorite subject of gamers in both Japan and the West. With two upcoming games by GMT and Hexasim, the battle has produced 20 (at least) full blown highly detailed tabletop simulations/games. September saw the release of three-and two of them were to be found in the pages of Game Journal #32 (put out by Simulation Journal in Japan). Sekigahara Taisakusen: Sekigahara He No Michi (関ヶ原大作戦：関ヶ原への道, Sekigahara Grand Strategy: Road to Sekigahara) recreates the broader campaign, stretching from Osaka castle and the satellite castle battles in the west to the campaign pitting the Uesugi against the Date in the northeast. It’s a hex based simulation with 90 step-based counters (color coded into the Tokugawa, Eastern Army Allies, Ishida’s Army Of The West, and potential Western Army Defectors, each with clan mon) and 16 cards used to introduce random events into the game. Nyuusatsukyuu Sekigahara (入札級関ヶ原) covers the actual battle of Sekigahara itself, and its title is a clever play on words-it can mean ‘Bid For Rank Sekigahara’ but can also be read as ‘Bid For Decapitated Heads Sekigahara’ (referring to the severed heads of slain enemies presented by samurai to their lords). The game’s best feature is a well done two piece map of the Sekigahara battlefield that includes the areas off to the east that saw only a small amount of fighting (which are often left out by other games). This better simulates the precarious position Ieyasu put his forces into during the battle, and the potential disaster that awaited him if the Mouri stationed at this rear had been better motivated. No cards in this game, but a few more step-based counters (99) in a huge variety of colors with clan mon on each. This too is a traditional hex based game, eschewing the trend towards going to area or point-to-point movement systems. The order of battle is detailed and well done, with a good amount of differentiation. It’ll prove useful for armchair generals who want to compare the varying strengths of each contingent. The ever-shifting alliances in the power struggle are also a key feature of the game. There are really nine factions at work here-the Eastern Army frontline forces (largely composed of former Toyotomi retainers), Ieyasu’s contingent, the Eastern army ‘road’ troops at the army’s rear, the main Western army, the Kobayakawa, the Shimazu, the Kikkawa, the ‘Mouri Group’ east of the main battlefield, and the Western army turncoats that historically defected when Kobayakawa did. Gameplay tends to run along historical lines, so the Western Army faces more of a challenge.

Both games are of low-to-moderate complexity and consequently play smoothly, with Nyuusatsukyuu Sekigahara being an exciting nail-biter (just like Ieyasu was said to do during the battle!). The magazine also includes a number of historical articles on Sekigahara and the forces and personalities involved along with a multi-page Manga that offers up gameplay tips-you get a chance to read about the actual history and then replay it. The designers weigh in with their thoughts on the two games. There’s a look back at other Sekigahara wargames produced over the years and an article on the classic game ‘Sengoku Daimyo’. Reviews and features of other wargames and simulations round out the 84 page issue-at ￥3600, it’s a particularly good value for Sengoku simulation aficionados.

Japanese History War Game Quarterly #3: Sekigahara Seneki (関ヶ原戦役, Sekigahara Campaign) was also released in September, and features a simple recreation of the campaign in a point-to-point movement format. It’s an ideal game for those new to the Japanese language-the rules are written with the intention of being short and easy to understand. Games play out quickly and tend to have a high fun factor, not getting too bogged down in number-crunching and looking up rules. While the map is somewhat unattractive (being largely a series of holding boxes), the 80 game counters are excellent. They’re organized by clans and contain leader units-they can also be flipped over to switch sides. They’re color coded into different factions-Ieyasu’s main force (although many can and will defect), the Date, the Maeda, the Satake, and Mitsunari’s main force (also with many potential defectors). 30 cards are used to liven up the game. The production quality of the magazine is outstanding-it’s squarebound in stiff covers, has a plastic bubble and baggies for easy storage, and the magazine and rules are bound into the side of the book across from the bubble. Unique to this publication, there’s a full color Manga strip that runs in the margins of the rulebook explaining some of the game’s subtleties and strategies (and where the goofy female main character always ends up screwing over the serious male lead character). The entire 32 page magazine is given over to articles dealing with Sekigahara, and also includes a section spotlighting many Japanese movies and TV shows about the battle. It also uses illustrations of the game map and counters to show how the historical campaign unfolded. JHWGQ’s goal of producing low-complexity, quick and easy to play games has proven so popular that it’s already spawned a companion magazine that features warfare the world over. It weighs in at ￥2800. It looks like the upcoming JHWGQ #4 is going to be a simulation of the 47 Ronin’s assault on Lord Kira’s mansion on a single man scale (timed to be out around the anniversary of the conflict). I can only speculate that it’ll be a simulation of the fictional accounts of the raid, since historically it was a huge 47 to 4/5 mismatch.


We’ve only covered a fraction of the books and items released in Japan in celebration of Tenchijin and Sekigahara, but enough to show the influence and attraction the Taiga drama has on Japanese audiences. Next year’s Taiga focuses on the wildly popular Bakumatsu figure Sakamoto Ryoma, and the media frenzy for it is already getting warmed up as detailed on the Samurai Archives. Japanese History War Game Quarterly has already run a game on the Shinsengumi-maybe this year they’ll have one that features their foe Ryoma shooting his way out of the Teradaya. Hopefully it won’t have optional ‘Romulus Rulz’ for fist-pounding and snickering…

Brushed by the Hand of Death-Black Rain

Black Rain is Director Imamura Shohei’s award winning 1989 film of the August 5th, 1945 atom bombing of Hiroshima and the survivors of the blast. Based on a story by Ibuse Masuji, it stars Tanaka Yoshiko as Yasuko, Kitamura Kazuo as Shizuma Shigematsu, and Ichihara Etsuko as Shizuma Shigeko. Imamura was known for his over the top films, but Black Rain is a subdued masterpiece. Shot in black and white, it resembles both in tone and style many films released during the 1950’s, giving it a real period feel. While Black Rain’s many awards are too many to list here, they range from the Japan Academy Prize to the Cannes Festival and include multiple wins for Best Film, Best Director, Best Actress, and Best Screenplay. It’s an excellent new addition to Animeigo’s growing DVD lineup of non-samurai Japanese films.

The film begins with young Yasuko being sent to the county near Hiroshima to live with her aunt and uncle, Shizuma Shigeko and Shigematsu, to avoid forced conscription into factory labor. Mr. Shizuma boards a train and heads off to work, although the city has been blanketed by leaflets from American planes heralding upcoming destruction for the city. When the American bomber Enola Gay drops the first atomic bomb at 8:15, Shigematsu is on the fringes of the blast and fireball. He survives with some minor burns and returns home to his wife. Being further away from ground zero, their house is damaged but not completely destroyed. They decide to wait and see if Yasuko will attempt to join them, and make plans to escape the battered remnants of the city.

When Yasuko’s face is streaked black (the black rain of the title, being contaminated by the radioactive ash thrown up by the blast) in a rainstorm as she is attempting to join her aunt and uncle by boat, it gives one the eerie feeling that the hand of Death has just brushed her face. The scenes of the devastation in Hiroshima and the attendant chaos as burned survivors try to pick their way through the rubble of the city are appropriately nightmarish. They’re made all the more sobering and chilling by the fact that, unlike most post-apocalyptic films, these events really happened-and the historical reality was much, much worse. The mushroom cloud that puzzles onlookers, the almost surreal devastation of the city, the deadly live wires that seem to hem the characters in at every path, poisoned water, and the blackened corpses of burned victims everywhere rival anything from the worst horror movie. The scenes of devastation, the hospitals full of burn and radiation victims, and the air of stunned hopelessness also bring to mind similar ones seen in the original 1954 Godzilla (particularly the original Japanese ‘Gojira’ without Raymond Burr). Flashbacks of the post-bombing Hiroshima (focusing on the Shizuma’s escape, rescue efforts, and Shigematsu’s hasty recruitment as a makeshift Buddhist priest to hold services for the dead) continue to appear throughout the movie, much like a recurring nightmare-shadowing the omnipresent threat of radiation sickness the survivors face.


Five years later, Mr. and Mrs. Shizuma and Yasuko all appear to be fine, although Mr. Shizuma (as being primary victims of the blast) has been told to not engage in any strenuous activity. Mr. Shizuma spends his days fishing for carp with other hibakusha (‘explosion affected people’) who have received the same instructions, and a favorite topic of conversation is the rarely-seen giant carp that has lived in the lake for years (interestingly enough, drinking the blood of a carp is presented as a homeopathic cure in the film). Besides the flash (the name given by Japanese to the blast) survivors, there are other victims of the war in town. Yuichi, a member of the Nikaku (Japanese soldiers strapped full of explosives who would sacrifice themselves to destroy American tanks), relives a harrowing episode when an Allied tank passed right over the top of him in battle whenever he hears the sound of an engine. This causes trouble for the townspeople in addition to putting Yuichi’s life at risk when he throws himself in front of all manner of vehicles. His neighbors display a high level of compassion when dealing with him, as he’s a harmless sculptor of Jizo statues the majority of the time. The Shizuma’s lot is made more difficult by the increasing senility of their elderly mother, who believes Yasuko is her daughter. They fear for her health, not knowing that soon she’ll be the healthiest member of the household.

The primary focus of the Shizuma is to find Yasuko a husband before their radiation sickness claims them. The status of the family as flash survivors causes them to be social pariahs on one level, Yasuko in particular being treated as damaged goods. The family even takes her to a doctor and has her health certified as perfect in an effort to remove the doubts from potential bridegrooms and their families. While most of Yauko’s omiai (meet and greets, part of the old fashioned style of arranged Japanese marriages) suitors fall by the wayside as soon as they find out she’s a survivor of the flash, she eventually does find a man who’s willing to accept her as she is-but while Yasuko is more than happy with him and the prospect of marriage, he isn’t quite what the Shizuma had in mind for her (class distinctions were still an issue in Japan at this time). However, they are won over both by Yasuko’s feelings for him and the devotion he shows to her.

The secondary victims (soldiers who had entered the city in a rescue effort) in the town die, leaving Mr. Shizuma to wonder why he and his wife are still alive, having been primary victims. Meanwhile, Yasuko has fallen victim as well-she secretly attempts to treat an ulcer on her body so as not to worry her aunt and uncle. Her radiation sickness begins to become more and more obvious, with swatches of her beautiful black hair falling out. More villagers die from sickness. Yasuko struggles out to the lake with her Uncle and witnesses the fabled giant carp leaping out of the water-sending her into a delirious state of excitement and bringing her sickness to a peak. Some will find the eventual resolution of her situation and the resultant ending a bit frustrating, but it encapsulates the film’s message well-that of an uncertain future where humanity has some difficult choices to make. Perhaps this is illustrated best in the scene where Mr. Shizuma is listening to a radio broadcast giving the hourly news as Yasuko is treated for radiation poisoning. It announces that US President Harry Truman isn’t counting out using the atom bomb against the Chinese in the Korean War and that he’s leaving the decision over its deployment to the general in command. Shizuma resignedly turns off the radio and mumbles that ‘Humans are obstinate creatures’.

Any “horrors of war” movie carries with it the risk of lapsing into over the top melodrama, but that’s not the case with Black Rain. The performances are for the most part wonderfully under control and understated, lending them an air of authenticity and realism. Simple actions such as the Shizuma’s daily ritual of setting their clock to the nightly news symbolize the efforts of the survivors to bring a measure of normalcy and control back to their lives. But even then, there are constant reminders as the news is filled with stories of warfare in nearby Korea and the anti-nuclear Stockholm Proclamation of 1950. A subplot concerning a ‘party girl’ returning to the village to escape her yakuza boyfriend illustrates a growing disconnect between the war survivors and a new generation of more self centered and privileged Japanese youth who have never known suffering. The score by Takemitsu Toru fits the mood of the film perfectly, the composer having written it to specifically match each scene. It makes great use of silence and doesn’t feel the need to fill every moment with music. The focus is on the plight of the radiation victims (many of whom were only exposed when entering Hiroshima after the blast in rescue efforts, becoming ‘entry victims’) and how they deal with the fate that they suspect is coming their way. They have the unenviable fate of having to live with its effects every day of their lives-in effect, being biological time bombs who don’t know when or if the radiation will take its toll on their bodies. To its credit, Black Rain doesn’t attempt to take the easy way out and paint the Americans as evil or the Japanese as innocent victims-the closest it comes to this is when one character asks another why the Americans felt the need to use the bomb. It isn’t so much ‘Why did they do this to us?’ as it is ‘Didn’t they realize we were already defeated?’. As Mr. Shizuma aptly sums it up, ‘An unjust peace is better than a just war’.

Adding to the package is the incredible collection of extras Animeigo has put together. There are of course the detailed historical notes that one has come to expect from their discs, along with the requisite still gallery, cast and crew bios, and trailer. The historical notes give an in-depth perspective of the bombing of Hiroshima, the rescue efforts afterwards, strange side effects of the atom bomb (such as the ‘shadow pictures’ left upon objects by the flash), and the efforts by the US military to keep the effects of the bombing under wraps. There’s also a Multimedia Vault that collects several films and newsreels produced during the war and immediately afterward, both for public consumption in the US and for the Armed Forces. If Black Rain didn’t bring the bombing home, these clips surely will. Interestingly enough, while the media produced for public consumption involves large doses of gloating over the defeat of the Japanese and the destruction brought down upon them, the films done for the military are sober, serious, and respectful. In particular, ‘My Japan’ (a War Bond drive film made by the US Treasury, ostensibly narrated by a stereotypical evil Japanese) is brutal to modern eyes. ‘Our Enemies the Japanese’ and the Universal Newsreel ‘Atom Blast at Hiroshima’ are not far behind (however, it should be pointed out Japanese propaganda films were just as racist and jingoistic-as well as every other nation’s during WWII). Rounding the vault out are some photos of the destruction, US President Harry Truman’s radio speech concerning the atom bomb on August 6th, and the US Army-produced ‘A Tale Of Two Cities’. Finally, there are interviews with Assistant Director Miike Takashi and actress Tanaka Yoshiko. An interesting point brought up in Yoshiko’s interview is that director Imamura kept them all sequestered in the small town where filming took place in an effort to keep them from eating well in the city. This maintained Yasuko’s starved and radiation wasted appearance.

Perhaps the most interesting extra is the alternate ending. Most alternate endings on DVD’s are pretty short and basic, but this one runs almost 20 minutes. It’s shot in color to give it a more ‘contemporary’ feel since it takes place 15 years after the main body of the film. Yasuko has survived her bout with radiation poisoning but health problems have continued to dog her, and she seems to have a massive dose of survivor’s guilt as well. She decides to leave the man she loves and embark upon a pilgrimage to honor the souls of the victims of the flash-a pilgrimage that she seemingly does not expect to return from. Accompanied by another presumed survivor of the flash, they set out upon the famous ’88 temple’ circuit on the island of Shikoku. Watching the two’s progress is truly heart-wrenching. On the way they are harassed and ridiculed by their own people and their health deteriorates at a steady pace. Dirty, disheveled, and with bleeding feet they struggle to make it from one stop on the circuit to the next. The last stop on the journey is pulled off in a touching and almost surrealistic way that seems to bring peace to everyone-but the final scene shows that perhaps even the people of Japan have begun to forget and trivialize the bombing. While the alternate ending certainly delivers an impact, we believe the correct choice was made in keeping the one the film uses. Some things are best left unresolved and left for the viewer to work out for themselves.

Black Rain is an important film that everyone should see-just as a reminder of the very real cost to humanity that warfare entails. It puts a face on what all too often are glossed over and depersonalized as cold statistics on a report. 70-80,000 were killed instantly (30% of the city), with that number rising to 90-140,000 by the end of 1945. Perhaps 200,000 had fallen victim by 1950. But the story of these three people somehow brings things into focus more clearly. There are still many hibakusha alive in Japan today, and still suffering. In a day and age where original documentation by American combat photographers of the destruction of Hiroshima was found in a trash heap, Black Rain is a powerful film that will stay with you long after the ending and give the viewer much to reflect upon. Give it a try when you’re in the mood for a serious, thought provoking movie. You can get Black Rain directly from Animeigo or through Amazon.

Shogun Coffee

While Pepsi Shiso may be a liquid car wreck in a bottle, Tokugawa Shogun Coffee, sold by Saza Coffee, is nothing short of heaven in a mug. Now some of you are probably scratching your heads wondering what the heck “Shogun Coffee” is. Is this some sort of gimmick meant to cash in on the “history” boom that is sweeping across Japan? No, it isn’t and this is all about really good coffee with a pedigreed history!

The story starts in 1867, as the turmoil of the Bakumatsu period was reaching fever pitch. The 15th and last Tokugawa Shogun, Yoshinobu, was desperately trying to modernize the Bakufu’s finances and military capabilities. For this, he turned to the French, who at the time were led by Emperor Napoleon III, who dreamed of expanding France’s sphere of influence in Asia. Nothing against France, but perhaps the Shogunate’s decision to rely on France wasn’t the wisest choice, as things didn’t really work out that well for both parties’ positions in Japan. However, you can’t blame the Tokugawa for looking to France over Britain when it came to the culinary arts. Besides pork, there was another item in France’s culinary arsenal that captivated Yoshinobu, and that was coffee. Although the Saza coffee site says coffee was officially introduced to Japan in 1867, I have a hunch it probably wasn’t something extraordinary new to the Japanese ruling elite, as the Dutch were exporting it by the ton from their holdings in Indonesia and had probably been presented to the court of the Shogun via the Dutch settlement in Nagasaki. Perhaps even Perry served some to visitors to his squadron of Black Ships. Who knows? However, French roast coffee was something new, strong and quite powerful. Yoshinobu apparently liked it, and he soon arranged to have French roast coffee served at all diplomatic functions involving the Western powers.

It also seems that Yoshinobu’s younger brother, Akitake, who traveled to France for the World Expo in Paris with the famed industrialist Shibusawa Eiichi, seemed to also enjoy this coffee on their steamship voyage to Europe. Notes on how the beans were roasted must have been written down, as one of Yoshinobu’s direct descendants, Tokugawa Yoshitomo, is roasting some mighty fine beans and selling it through Saza Coffee’s internet site. (Unfortunately, they don’t ship outside of Japan).

Curious to try “Shogun” Coffee”, I ordered a 200 gram pack at a cost of 1,800 yen. Not cheap by any means, but would you expect small batch roasted premium coffee fit for a shogun to be priced and marketed as a budget brand? I think not! Needless to say, my small stock of Shogun Coffee did not last long at all as I couldn’t get enough of it. Shogun Coffee is an enjoyable, full-bodied robust roast, loaded with high-octane caffeine—just what one needs when starting the day. The boldness of the brew really is what gets you after your first sip, but it is also surprisingly velvety smooth, like some of the estate-grown private label coffees from Kona that you can get at premium restaurants and hotels in Hawaii. I think the closest thing I’ve had to this would be one of the vintage Eddie Sakamoto coffees that are available at Alan Wong’s restaurant on King Street in Honolulu.

Again, this coffee is really good, and I am lamenting the fact that I am all out of it. And perhaps I just inadvertently solved a mystery, right here and now. Just why did Yoshinobu flee from Osaka Castle in the dead of night after the defeat of the Shogunal forces at the Battle of Toba-Fushimi? Could it be that he expended the stock of coffee that he had brought with from Edo and needed to get back to Edo, where a hefty supply was readily available? I’m starting to think so, and I also think it’s time for me to replenish my own supply!

Pepsi Shiso - Liquid Car Crash in a Bottle

Setting aside Japanese history for a moment, I thought I'd delve into quirky Japanese drinks. Tonight, after a great time at a good Korean restaurant, our group stopped at Don Quijote - the pseudo-Japanese superstore in Honolulu to pick up some things. We made the rounds, from eggplants to overpriced bread to a hot chocolate debate, to a giant grotesque block of uncut luncheon-meat, to the meaning of the date on a package of ground beef (packing date or expiration?), through the fish to the Nabe supplies.

On a whim, we stopped in the Japanese drink aisle with the bend-over-and-take-it prices, and perused the aisle. And there it was. Pepsi Shiso ("Shiso" being known as "Perilla" to the rest of the world). The green hourglass shaped bottle with twisting groves in the plastic evokes images of an ancient Egyptian artifact; subtle curves topped off with an attractive white cap that belies the true nature of the emerald liquid trapped beneath.

Having had Pepsi Shiso misrepresented to me by my compatriots as "good", I spent the money I got selling a kidney on the black market for one bottle, certain it would be worth it. So eager to try this mystical green nectar, I opened it at the register, and tried it.

In every man's life, there is a moment - a moment where everything changes, a moment you never forget. A moment that changes your perception of life and reality. A bookmark tagged in your mind, burned forever which you will compare everything that happened before, and after. This was my moment. So many things ran through my mind at that moment. I lived an entire lifetime in seconds. The smell, and then taste, of Pepsi Shiso sent dormant neurons firing in all directions. I saw entire universes born and die, and stars form, explode, and re-form. I saw eternity in a clear plastic bottle. At that moment, I realized how long eternity is, particularly how long it would be, with Pepsi Shiso.

The Japanese are typically famous for taking something and making it better. Oh, the irony. You just can't take something that is marginal at best, liquify it, and assume it is going to be better. After all, what is the essence of bad? Pepsi Shiso takes everything that is good about Shiso- the wrapped mochi, anko - and throws it away, leaving just the limp, damp shiso leaf. Take an unsweetened bottle of Sprite, add some green food coloring, chew a shiso leaf, spit the juice into the bottle, and voila, you have Pepsi Shiso. It is truly horrendous, but shockingly like a liquid car crash in a bottle - horrifying and disturbing, but at the same time... it's hard to pull your lips away. It consists of mainly three things - the very authentic, overpowering shiso smell that emanates from the bottle, the very light carbonated base, and the brutal shiso slap in the face. Shiso "juice" was not meant to be consumed. I don't really think it was meant to be eaten either, but that's another story altogether. It leaves you feeling slightly disturbed, and with an aftertaste that feels very much like you have chewed a shiso leaf and maybe some sugar. In a sense, it's sort of like natto - it can be eaten, and many people eat it, but most people really don't want to. Just because something can be eaten doesn't mean it should be. You wouldn't drink crabgrass tea, and you probably wouldn't drink cilantro juice, and Pepsi Shiso falls into this category. Just because you can make something, doesn't mean you should. Look at the Segway and the Snuggie.

For such an attractive bottle and intriguing concept, it is shockingly horrid stuff. I will keep the bottle, just like Tupac kept the bullets that almost killed him the first time, as a reminder of what is and what should never be. Even Chinchin Tea seems almost drinkable now. Almost.