Asahi Shimbun Vox Populi Vox Dei
December 31, 2012
I have just received a haiku book “Wind-bell, White summer night” (publisher: Toukasha) by Fuyuko Molenkamp, who has been living in the Netherlands for a long time. One of her haiku was once quoted in this column in 2007*: In my hand/a homeland called/an acorn, a haiku which expresses her longing for Japan far away. This time my eye caught one haiku in her book which is in a different mood. Under a cold/ street lamp/ I’ve just turned/ the corner.
The season word ‘cold lamp’ has connotations of a cold night with freezing body and soul, even the lamp feels cold. She had just got divorced and was thinking how to survive in a foreign country. Going home from her work at night, walking on cobblestones, she stopped and looked up at the street lamp. The snow was falling on her, shining under the street lamp. In that moment of stillness she felt awe-inspiring dignity and courage.
A turning point in life often becomes clear afterwards. It can be a fatal encounter, or a parting, or even words from somebody in a forest of reminiscence.
By the way, history has turning points, too. But these are somewhat vague. The turning points, like the opening of Japan to the West (in the Edo period), or losing the Second World War, are very clear. But when social conditions develop, their course resembles a slow curve. For example: imagine a car driving round an enormous, vast circle – it seems to be driving along a straight road, but it is turning slightly to the right or the left so that half-way along, it will go back in the direction it came from. In the sky high above, birds are able to capture reality.
In 2012, Japan’s relations with neighboring countries were unsettled, the DPJ (the Democratic Party of Japan) ran out of patience, the LPJ (the Liberal Party of Japan) won the elections with its campaign promise to establish a national defense military force. Ninety percent of the House of Representatives is in favor of changing the constitution. Whenever we hear of changes in nuclear power policy or public projects, we recognize sharp curves through the car window.
Historians will analyze this winter’s curve in the future. But one thing is sure: the painful history of the Showa era teaches us that what is important is not the accelerator, but the brake.
Thank you for reading this column for the past year. My wish to sharpen my bird’s eye view remains.
* This editorial was published on Constitution Day, a symbol of peace for many Japanese after the war. It asked: can Japan stay as a peaceful country as an expatriate longs for.
The season word ‘cold lamp’ has connotations of a cold night with freezing body and soul, even the lamp feels cold. She had just got divorced and was thinking how to survive in a foreign country. Going home from her work at night, walking on cobblestones, she stopped and looked up at the street lamp. The snow was falling on her, shining under the street lamp. In that moment of stillness she felt awe-inspiring dignity and courage.
A turning point in life often becomes clear afterwards. It can be a fatal encounter, or a parting, or even words from somebody in a forest of reminiscence.
By the way, history has turning points, too. But these are somewhat vague. The turning points, like the opening of Japan to the West (in the Edo period), or losing the Second World War, are very clear. But when social conditions develop, their course resembles a slow curve. For example: imagine a car driving round an enormous, vast circle – it seems to be driving along a straight road, but it is turning slightly to the right or the left so that half-way along, it will go back in the direction it came from. In the sky high above, birds are able to capture reality.
In 2012, Japan’s relations with neighboring countries were unsettled, the DPJ (the Democratic Party of Japan) ran out of patience, the LPJ (the Liberal Party of Japan) won the elections with its campaign promise to establish a national defense military force. Ninety percent of the House of Representatives is in favor of changing the constitution. Whenever we hear of changes in nuclear power policy or public projects, we recognize sharp curves through the car window.
Historians will analyze this winter’s curve in the future. But one thing is sure: the painful history of the Showa era teaches us that what is important is not the accelerator, but the brake.
Thank you for reading this column for the past year. My wish to sharpen my bird’s eye view remains.
* This editorial was published on Constitution Day, a symbol of peace for many Japanese after the war. It asked: can Japan stay as a peaceful country as an expatriate longs for.