Showing posts with label Essay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Essay. Show all posts

10/06/2014

A Social Mechanism that Binds a Definition: The Reappropriation of “Housework Harassment” in Japan.


by Mieko Takenobu

Recently an advertisement by Asahi Kasei Homes Corporation’s has come under fire in the media and on the internet. This advertisement dealt with the concept of “housework harassment”. The term, “housework harassment” was coined in my book, “Housework Labor Harassment – the core of making it hard to live,” published last year. In the book I defined housework labor harassment as harassment by social systems which insult, disrespect and exclude housework. The book also outlined the hardships suffered by women in poverty and hardships they endure for their on-going survival working in the home. The Asahi Kasei advertisement however, transformed the meaning of the term “housework harassment” into “hardships of men who do housework”. I would like to point out “the social mechanism” in which power holders bind a definition of terms and nullifies the terms defined by the others like women and minorities.

Turnaround of the definition
Housework is an important labor that supports lives of people. Daily activities such as child care, nursing care, and feeding children and the elderly, are important tasks that can be linked with housework. In Japan, such housework labor is done by “invisible” women and housewives whose work often goes unnoticed in society, and thus tend to receive weak political attention.
 ….
Under such a social system, women are having difficulties faced with long working hours and the lack of accessible child-care services. Nearly 60% of women quit their full time jobs after childbirth. Upon returning to the labor force, women generally work in part-time and/or irregular employment so that they can keep earning an income while raising children. Under this system, men are the main breadwinners and often women cannot be economically independent with their low salaries since they often work only for their pocket money in between their housework. Nearly 60% of women work in irregular employment, and have become a leading reason behind the increased incidence of poverty in Japan. Men, on the other hand, are expected to support women economically and have to endure long working hours, which sometimes even results in death by work (Karoshi). I published my book intending to raise awareness among people of the role and value of housework and inventing the term “housework harassment” to review issues surrounding working styles for both women and men.

Asahi Kasei Homes’ mis-adaptation of the term “housework harassment” devalues the original meaning and reinterpreted it meaning to be more about family squabbles over housework between wife and husband. In addition, the ad stated that wives’ attitude complaining about quality of housework done by their husbands is harassment. Such an ad may destroy the real meaning of housework harassment. Asahi Kasei Homes spread such distorted meaning of housework harassment among media through press releases. Furthermore, the ad was put out on several commuter trains in Tokyo. The distorted definition of “housework harassment” as harassment against men doing shoddy housework was reinforced through TV programs which took up and commented on the Asahi Kasei Homes’ ad.      

A wave of criticism from women
Soon after the ad was released, women took action against it. The very next day, a woman criticized a decrease in her husband’s motivation to do housework by hearing wives criticism in relation to this ad on FB, stating “How can you even think of deserving complements for your housework like a child?” She also mentioned about misinterpretation of the definition stating, “There would be a misunderstanding of the concept of housework harassment with the one in Mieko Takenobu’s ‘Housework Labor Harassment.’ One of my friends who read this comment called me showing her concern over the misinterpretation. Readers of the book also showed their concerns one after another. After careful consideration, mainly because of concerns that their usage of “housework harassment” caused women to hate the words and the intension of my book will be ruined before reaching out to those who need help, I decided to lodge a complaint directly with Asahi Kasei Homes asking them to stop misusing the term, housework harassment.

Asahi Kasei Homes quickly responded to my complaint. In response to the complaint, the company voluntarily removed the ad from the train and posted the definition of “housework harassment” from my book on their homepage. It also submitted an apology letter for its inappropriate usage of the words “housework harassment.”

A Social Mechanism that Binds the Definition Made by Women
I reacted responsively to this misuse of the definition of “housework harassment” because I have observed similar situations surrounding word changes in the past.

Seku-hara (sexual harassment): In 1980s, the wording “sexual harassment” appeared in Japan. It meant a serious infringement of human rights which results in excluding one gender from a workplace. However, it was abbreviated to the shorter wording “Seku-hara,” which turned the original meaning into somewhat less serious behavior as “mischiefs such as touching the bottoms of women” or “office romance” through the ways it was featured in male weekly magazines.

Work-Sharing: “Work Sharing” appeared in 1990s when the unemployment rate increased in the end of 1990s. It was originally meant to prevent unemployment by sharing work in Europe; however, the Japan Federation of Employers’ Association changed its definition into “preventing unemployment by lowering wages,” which in effect made it easier to lowering the wages of workers.       

Soushoku-Danshi (herbivore men): In 2006, “Soushoku-Danshi” (“herbivore men” which means opposite to macho men) was invented by columnist Maki Fukagawa. It showed a new male figure with whom women are able to socialize equally and frankly. However, the meaning has been transformed through magazines into “a men who cannot go out with women.”

What is common among these examples is the way that power holders changed the definition of new terms which do not suit them and are then new meanings are attached and distributed through media, watering down innovative elements that the original definition used to have. 
 

Distorting the original meaning of the particular terms and spreading it with its power nullifies the new images of the society that the original meaning wanted to realize and destroys the movement of restructuring the society.

I wanted to express a serious side effect of the turnaround of the original definition      in the complaint to Asahi Kasei Homes.

Women’s Pushback
It was a strong pushback from women (and men) who have been fed up with “the housework harassment society” and the power of the internet that eventually caused Asahi Kasei to pull their advertisements.

One of my friends who witnessed the misuse of the words on Facebook called me and told me her frustration, “Is this situation same as the one with ‘Seku-hara’?” It suddenly reminded me of the turnaround of the definitions of “Work Sharing” and “Soushoku Danshi (herbivore men)” I thought that all our frustration with these words whose definitions have been forcefully transformed would be meaningless if I remained silent.

I lodged my complaints with Asahi Kasei for three reasons I felt troublesome and five demands to improve these points. When I called the company for a meeting, the appointment was quickly set up as, according to Asahi Kasei, they were about to get in touch with me due to the reaction they got from female reporters who were following the discussion on Facebook.

Soon after I lodged the complaints with the company, I also made it public by posting it to Facebook. I thought it was necessary to disseminate it to the public many times in order to correct the misusage of “housework harassment” through mass advertisement.  
Many people shared my comments as well as posted it on their twitter and individual blogs. Many also mailed their complaints directly to Asahi Kasei Homes. Analytical articles on the ad of “housework harassment” were put on the web one after another by female cyber journalists. I believe these voices as a whole made the company reacted quickly to my complaint.

The Tokyo Metropolitan Council’s sexual comments generated a large swell of criticism spread through twitters. The wave of the criticism against Asahi Kasei’s distorted usage of “housework harassment” may have been small compared with the swell of the Council’s sexual comments, but it was a valuable experience for us since we succeeded in pushing back the powerful mass media through the use of the internet and social media as an effective tool.

I hope that this success can be used by others in their struggles against the social mechanism in which powerful forces misuse and transform terms and meanings for their own benefit and simultaneously devalue the original meanings of words and concepts of those less powerful than them.

Original Article (August 2, 2014): http://wan.or.jp/reading/?p=14247
Translated and Adapted by Fumie Saito

10/05/2014

In the Muddy Waters of Historical Revisionism: Isolated from International Society (Part 3)

by Kazuko Itō, Lawyer and Human Right Activist
Excerpt from her Blog

(Part 1)
(Part 2)

Unusual Criticism by UN Human Rights Top Official

High Commissioner for Human Rights, Navi Pillay, who is retiring the position in September 2014, made a public statement to criticize the Japanese government’s response to the issue of wartime sexual slavery on August 6th. It is unusual for a UN top official to criticize Japan so harshly. It made me feel the seriousness of the situation and the severity of international criticism.

She had never stopped sincere talks with Japan and had been negotiating with the government persistently. Obviously, she felt the attitude of the Japanese government for this time was inexcusable. Here is the whole statement.

http://www.un.org/apps/news/story.asp?NewsID=48424#.VAbX1_k0HNm

I don't repeat her statement but what she points out is true. The Japanese government should respect her statement sincerely not because she is a UN human rights top official but because she is an expert on this issue.

Ms. Pillay was formerly a judge on the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda and sat in judgment on serious human rights infringements committed during the Rwandan Civil War. She earned a reputation for a groundbreaking judicial decision that sexual assaults on women that were prevalent in Rwanda as a means of "ethnic cleansing" could correspond to the crime of genocide (The Case of Akayesu).

This decision contributed to the development of an international law; the Rome Statute of International Criminal Court which, for the first time, stipulated that rape constitutes genocide or a crime against humanity. She is remembered as a lawyer who had the greatest influence on forming an international law that states wartime violence is an inexcusable crime. After that she served as a judge on the International Criminal Court.

Because of her rich experiences in an international law, she is respected everywhere and represents how far international law reached. It seems that she was not able to overlook Japan's attitude since she strongly believed that violence against women in conflict should be treated as an issue of human rights.

International common sense is based on an idea similar to the one held by Ms. Pillay. Therefore, Japan will never be able to go unpunished regardless of the sophistry they employ.

Suppose South Korea brings this issue to the International Court of Justice or it asks for advisory opinions from the court. While the judgment of such a civil claim is uncertain, those who have studied international laws even just a little are certain that Japan's responsibility should be clarified, judging from how far the international jurisprudence has reached.

Most Importantly, Lack of Decency is a Problem

If Japan continues to neglect the issue, whether Japan is a civilized state respecting basic human rights will become suspicious. It affects how other countries evaluate Japan even if they don’t show their true feeling obviously. Henceforth, Japan will be isolated from international society.

It is highly regretful.

If you value your country's honor, you should not hide or distort facts. In such a political climate, Japan will have only disrespectable people who have no true self-respect and lack overall sensitivity to human rights in the next generation.

Besides their international reputation, I wonder how they can neglect the issue as decent human beings. Aren’t they ashamed of themselves?

Each one of us needs to think whether it is all right to deny the responsibility by making the above excuses.

If this remains unresolved, it will affect future cases. Whenever an infringement of women’s human rights is committed, the truth of the case will never be investigated.

Not investigating the truth of a case and covering the facts is a long-lived tradition that has survived in issues such as sexually offensive heckling in the Tokyo Metropolitan Assembly. These issues have the same root. This is also the problem of current Japanese women.

My major concern is that as the result of hiding and distorting the facts and shelving offenders' responsibility, Japan might become such a disgraceful state that it goes to war again.

A state might make the same mistake by convincing its people to think a war is unavoidable, by paralyzing their imagination of agony from damage and sacrifice people in other nations faced during war or their decent sensitivity to human rights.

Each individual has to think by themselves whether this is right or not and has to take action accordingly.

If you don't know much about this issue or the Japan's responsibility as a perpetrator, read various books and study so that you can understand the facts.

Read the following documents, too.

Concluding observations on the sixth periodic report of Japan - announced by UN Human Rights Committee in July 2014
http://hrn.or.jp/activity/Concluding%20Observations.pdf

Why Does Japan Re-Examine the Kono Statement Secretly? (Japanese)
http://bylines.news.yahoo.co.jp/itokazuko/20140302-00033165/

Hashimoto, Osaka Mayor, Says, "Comfort Women Were Necessary." Why Is It a Problem? (Japanese)
http://bylines.news.yahoo.co.jp/itokazuko/20130519-00025040/

Original Article: http://wan.or.jp/book/?p=8093&page=3
Translated by Atsuko Ishikawa

9/30/2014

In the Muddy Waters of Historical Revisionism: Isolated from International Society (Part 2)

by Kazuko Itō, Lawyer and Human Right Activist
Excerpt from her Blog

(Part 1)

Most women who were forced to be taken as sex slaves were minors. If Japanese politicians really believe that under-age girls, who were living their lives threatened by knives and guns during Japan’s military occupation, were all voluntarily and arbitrarily drafted, then they lack common sense and overall sensitivity to human rights.

Worse than that, they seek to downplay Japan’s action by declaring that other states too used to have a sex slavery system, which is equivalent to a molester refusing to take responsibility for his actions simply because he knows others that did it too.

With such an attitude, Japan will not be able to recover its honor.

They should study the basics of human rights.

It seems that the Japanese government condones the arguments of some Japanese politicians despite the harms this causes to victims. One of the roles of any government is to rebut such shameful beliefs maintained by some politicians and educate people in order to prevent it from happening again, but the Japanese government is neglecting its duties by not making any comment.

The Big Gap between International Common Sense and Excuses That Japan Makes Only Exposes Japan's Shame Further

International conflict over the issue of sex slavery is not merely a bilateral political problem between South Korea and Japan, but it’s also an issue of Japan's international responsibility as a perpetrator for its damaging actions against women from other Asian countries as well as the Netherlands.

More importantly, international society has been paying attention to how serious infringements on women’s human rights should be compensated and it is focusing on how Japan will deal with the issue as a state that has inflicted damage.

When a state is aware of a serious infringement of human rights, it should investigate what happened, reveal the facts, name people who are responsible, punish them, and compensate the victims. And as a state, it should identify measures so that it never happens again. This is an established and stable approach in order to guard against the infringement of human rights, and is unanimously supported by the international community.

A state involved in the infringement of human rights is bound to such obligations. This principle has been agreed upon in international society for a long time.

Particularly, the serious infringement of human rights like sexual abuse under international conflict is recognized as one of the most shameful human rights infringements. Overcoming it is recognized as one of the most important issues.

Leaving such conducts unpunished concerns the entire international community.

It is disappointing that the Japanese government remains absolutely irrelevant and ignorant about how far international society has reached in terms of human rights protection and it does not understand the seriousness of the matter.

Japan reduces the matter to a question of whether there was forceful capture or not, and it argues that without forceful capture there is no infringement of human rights and it therefore has no responsibility to pay damages if there isn't any evidence. Such an argument won’t work at all.

Japan's excuses and its denial of the facts is so disgraceful internationally that it only dishonors Japan terribly.

As for the history of the Nazi Holocaust, Germany admitted its responsibility for damage and expressed its apology, after much deliberation. However, at least they did not deny nor diminish their responsibility in this matter. Germany overcame the grave crimes, remembers it, and teaches its people thoroughly, and has continued sincere efforts to prevent the recurrence of this horrific event.

These policies give Germany moral authority and respect from the international community even though it was involved in these serious infringements of human rights.

Japan, as a state that experienced the damage from nuclear bombs, has also put into practice the renunciation of war for a long time, dealing with its responsibility as a war offender no matter how inconclusive it may have been.

However, while denying the facts these days, Japan is losing its moral authority.

Original Article: http://wan.or.jp/book/?p=8093&page=2
Translated by Atsuko Ishikawa

9/24/2014

In the Muddy Waters of Historical Revisionism: Isolated from International Society (Part 1)

by Kazuko Itō, Lawyer and Human Right Activist
Excerpt from her Blog

August 15th was the anniversary of the end of the war ... Why did not Prime Minister mention Japan's responsibility for the damage during the war?

Yesterday was the anniversary of the end of the war. Prime Minister Shinzō Abe attended the Memorial Ceremony of the War Dead, which was held by the government.

In his address of the ceremony, neither did he mention Japan's responsibility for the damage inflicted on other Asian countries nor did he state the renunciation of war, as his predecessors had done. He did not mention them last year, either.

I suspect he intentionally did not mention these words two years in a row. Not only in other countries but also in Japan people worry about his attitude.

PM repeats to phrase "future-oriented relationships," but only victims have the right to say "let bygones be bygones. Let's develop future-oriented relationships." Offenders are not entitled to claim such relationships.

On the same day, South Korean President Park said "Now, South Korea and Japan should overview the new 50 years and build an amiable and cooperative relationship thinking about the future," showing that she is willing to improve the bilateral relationship.

Pointing out that in order to do so, some efforts should be made to heal our historical wounds, she asked Japan to solve the issue of Sex Slave. They both talk about future-oriented relationships but their visions are different.

Of all the days in a year, on the anniversary of the end of World War II, the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) held an urgent meeting.

More concerned is the move of the LDP.

On 15th, the LDP's association of MPs, "The Association that Talks about Japanese Future and History Education," held an urgent meeting and agreed that they were going to investigate the facts about the issue of Sex Slave.

This was followed by the report that the Asahi Shimbun, Japan's second-largest daily newspaper, retracted a series of articles on the women forced by Japan to serve in military brothels during World War II. As a chief of the LDP's policy research council, Takaichi insisted that, what we should do now is recover Japan’s honor and correct the wrong information spread over the world.

Her course of action is clear. She wants to recover Japan’s honor, saying, “Japan has not done such an evil thing.” Such an argument made by Japanese conservatives does not have a global currency. Japan is being left behind by a trend of promoting human rights in international society.

Don't they realize that they don't have any vision so they are losing Japan's honor rather than recovering it?

In August, the Asahi Shimbun retracted a part of past article after verifying a man's testimony, which said that during World War II, in Korea, then a Japanese colony, Japan forcefully transported hundreds of young women.

But why can they deny the fact that Japan forcefully transported women or Japan’s responsibility for damaging other Asian countries based on the judgment that the only one man’s testimony was false?

Even on the website of the Asian Women’s Fund, whose establishment was supported by the Japanese government, you can find articles mentioning forceful transportation. http://www.awf.or.jp/e-guidemap.htm

The conservatives are obsessed with whether material evidence to prove that Japan forced women to transport exists, trivializing the issue as if they are saying, “if you cannot find any material evidence, Japan has no responsibility for damaging the women.” Such an attitude deviates from the decent sense of human rights. As they make excuses, they are revealing that the Japanese lawmakers do not have a basic understanding of human rights. As a result, they disgrace themselves before the world.

Some young women were deceived if not forcefully taken but can Japan really make excuse, saying, “Japan did not forcefully take you to anywhere so although you were confined in a small space, savagely treated, and raped day and night, Japan was not guilty”?

Does any country or individual which make such an arrogant excuse deserve respect from others?

Their argument is almost equivalent to that of a criminal who says, “I'm not guilty because what I committed was not a robbery but a mere fraud” or “I'm not guilty because it was not a rape but it was only a sexual assault against a person who cannot offer resistance.”

As Japan is a constitutional state, it is not allowed to make such an excuse, is it?

Can’t they imagine how offensive their behaviors are?
I hesitate to say this but their personality is problematic.

Original Article: http://wan.or.jp/book/?p=8093
Translated by Atsuko Ishikawa

7/30/2014

The Present Situation of Single Parents in Japan (from “Traveling is Loitering” No. 52)


It has been two years since my daughter decided to be a single parent. Her child is now three years and nine months old and has fun at kindergarten every day.
 
“Single-Parent Households (Hitori-Oya Katei)” by Chieko Akaishi (Iwanami-Shinsho, published on April 19th, 2014) is a very useful book for single parents. The author herself is an unmarried single mother.
 
After all these years, the media has finally started to report about women’s poverty. Especially, stories about cases caused by single mothers who are in social and financial difficulties appear in newspapers from time to time. However, books telling actual data on real situations of single parents or their actual voices had been seldom published.
 
“A single parent has a more than 50 percent chance of living in poverty. She and her children may manage to get by, but often she can’t earn enough money to spend on her children’s education.” Some facts are behind this reality. According to the government’s report on single mothers, etc. in 2011, the annual income of about 35 percent of single-mother households was between one million and two million yen. The average annual pay from a single mother’s job was 1.81 million yen, and the average income including child-rearing allowances, child benefits and so on was 2.23 million yen. On the other hand, the average annual income of single-father households was 3.8 million yen, and 3.6 million yen without allowances or benefits. The average income of all the households with children was 6.58 million yen, which probably reflected the fact that mainly men earn a living in the Japanese society. This means the average income of single mothers was only 34 percent of the whole households with children, while the single fathers’ was 58 percent.
 
The reality of single parents is that although most of them are working, their income is low. Though earnings were not much, single mothers used to be hired as full-time employees, but nowadays most of them are part-timers or temporary staff. Their homeownership rate is 29.8 percent, and it is not so easy for them even to find inexpensive apartments to rent.
 
Only 19.7 percent of divorced mothers receive child support from their former partners. 37.7 percent of divorcing couples decide on child support, and the average amount is 43,482 yen per month, while at least 57,000 yen is needed to pay for food, clothes, educational expenses, etc. for one child. If the reason for their divorce is their partner’s domestic violence, they can’t even demand financial support, just desperate to escape.
 
Don’t let men get away.
 
However, single mothers in this book are all cheerful, dealing with their hard life and child rearing, as if they have no regrets about having divorced to raise their children alone.
 
When asked “What do you want to appeal to the society?” they answered they needed time rather than money according to the “Work and Life of Single Mothers” survey. This seems to show they are extremely busy and do not have time to do what they want.
 
Paying national health insurance and national pension premiums is such a big burden on low-income single mothers. They could use welfare loan systems for divorced or widowed mothers to pay school fees or entrance fees when their children reach school age. That could help mothers and children get through, but after graduation they will be very likely to struggle to repay their loans. It is said the delinquency rates of such loans and also student loans have been high recently. Many of them end up being plagued by debts.
 
Ms. Akaishi is supportive of single parents and gives useful advice based on her own experience. The single mothers she interviewed and their children live strong despite their financial difficulty while using occasionally consultation services and being supported by many people. I especially like it that they are not obsessed with the idea of “the ideal family.”
 
They are already making full efforts to live by themselves. It’s time for them to help each other by forming a community or network to be able to believe that they are not alone. In addition, it’s our duty to call for more support from national and local governments, which has been really little in this country.
 
Each single parent has their own way to live. They are responsible not only for following their chosen path for the better but also for ensuring an equal society in the future for children who have to grow up to be independent adults, and so are all of us.
 
My daughter, still a fresh single parent, has a long way to go in terms of both child rearing and her own independence, but she and her daughter have many friends around to support them and some people who are sympathetic to them. That makes me really happy.
 
During the Golden Week holiday, when new green leaves were beautiful, my granddaughter ran around the Old Imperial Palace and the Kamogawa River, and we took her for a drive to have a short trip to Amanohashidate or the Bridge to Heaven. On May 5th, the Children’s Day, she went to the long-awaited “The First Classical Music Concert for Children” performed by Kyoto Philharmonic Chamber Orchestra. The concert’s theme was “Music and Story,’ and she enjoyed listening to “Peer Gynt,” a verse drama by Ibsen set to music by Grieg.
 
She is surprisingly growing up fast, and I want to be just beside her, trying hard not to be left behind.
 
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Original article written by Yagi Mine
Translated by Ai Sakaguchi

8/12/2013

"Queering Friendship: Takemura Kazuko" by J. Keith Vincent


Queering Friendship:
Takemura Kazuko: Feminism and Queer Theory in a Global Context
J. Keith Vincent
Boston University
(A Talk Presented at “Sex, Gender, and Society: Rethinking Japanese Feminism”, Emory University, April 20, 2013)


Takemura Kazuko was a key figure at the intersection of feminist and queer thought in Japan from the 1990s until her death in 2011, at the age of 57. She was well known as a queer feminist scholar of English and American literature, and for her translations of work by Judith Butler, Gayatri Spivak, Trinh T. Minh  Ha, and Slavoj Zizek. She was also an old friend of mine since the mid 1990s when she and I both became involved in thinking about issues of gender and sexuality in Japanese scholarship and activism. The last time I spoke to Kazuko was in March of 2010, when my partner Anthony and I had dinner with her near her home in Tokyo.  We talked about her coming to Boston to spend some time with us in Provincetown on Cape Cod, but sadly she had to cancel because of illness.  I only later learned how ill she was at this time, and that she had a heroic team of women friends and colleagues who called themselves “Team K” who supported her in the last days of her illness.

When I proposed this paper for this conference I was especially happy to be accepted because I knew it would give me the opportunity to sit down and read more of Takemura-san’s work.  Although I knew Kazuko for quite some time (almost 20 years!), and have marveled at the elegance and accuracy of her translations of Butler and others, I had not actually read much of her own work, which focussed on 19th and 20th century American and British writers including Henry James, Virginia Woolf, Louisa May Alcott, Ernest Hemingway, and William Faulkner, as well as Hollywood film. We often joked about the fact that she spent her time studying my country and I spent mine studying hers.  But somehow this difference in our fields did not seem to matter all that much, since we shared an interest in and commitment to feminism and queer theory. And yet now I find myself regretting not reading more of her work while she was alive.  I also find myself asking why I didn’t. I had no good reason not to read it since I do make it a point to read work about English and American literature that has to do with gender and sexuality.  I suppose I thought if I was going to take the trouble to read something in Japanese, it would make sense for it to be about Japan.  

I am quite embarrassed actually to admit this, but I’m afraid it was just such a calculation that was keeping me from learning more about Kazuko’s work. As someone who writes about Japanese literature in English, I really should know better.  I ought to know that if this policy were applied in the other direction I could never expect a Japanese person to take an interest in my own work. Why read what this American white guy has to say about Japanese literature when you can go directly to the source?  This sort of attitude is not at all uncommon in Japan and in the US for that matter, and it is one that I am always eager to denounce as narrow minded and essentialist.  And yet, with regard to Kazuko’s work, I was clearly not practicing what I was preaching.

So I am doubly grateful, as I said, to have been accepted to speak at this conference, for the chance it has given me to go back and read more of Kazuko’s work.  In doing so, it has been a real thrill to re-acquaint myself with, and in many cases to learn about for the first time, aspects of the history of feminism and queer theory in the United States, through Kazuko’s eyes.  Thanks to her 2012 book Bungakuryoku no chōsen I now know, for example, that Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women can be read as a queer text. I also learned that Kate Millet’s classic 1970 work of feminist literary criticism Sexual Politics ends with a chapter in which she writes approvingly of the gender politics of Jean Genet, and that Millet’s analysis of homophobia and misogyny in D.H. Lawrence presages the work of Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick 15 years later in Between Men *1 . In a brilliant chapter on American anti-intellectualism, Takemura draws on Richard Hofstadter’s classic book on the subject going back to the 19th century “Know Nothing Party” to contextualize the awarding of the “Bad Writing Prize” to Judith Butler by the Johns Hopkins-based journal Philosophy and History in 1998.  As Kazuko points out in that chapter, there were plenty of poststructuralist theorists whose prose was more difficult than Butler’s, and plenty of other winners of the award whose selection failed to bring any notice from the mass media.  But these two facts together suggest that what was at issue was not so much the fabled “difficulty” of Butler’s prose but the challenge it posed to fiercely guarded “common sense” notions about gender and sexual norms that were themselves rooted in deep currents of good-old American anti-intellectualism.

For Kazuko herself, of course, Butler’s prose was not difficult, but a “thrilling” and clear articulation of ideas that she herself had been groping towards as a way to fight against the violence and injustice of misogynist and heteronormative ideology in Japan *2 . Gender Trouble, she wrote in her translator’s afterword, spoke "directly, unerringly, and penetratingly of our reality [emphasis mine]" *3. She encouraged her Japanese readers not to be discouraged by the difficulty of Butler’s language, to read her work slowly and to savor it, "yukkuri, jikkuri."

All this talk about Judith Butler might have you wondering whether this talk will be about Japanese feminism. “Japanese feminism” is, after all, the theme of this conference. I might well respond, “But I am talking about Japanese feminism!  Just because Takemura-san translated Judith Butler and worked on English and American literature doesn’t make her any less of a ‘Japanese feminist.’  By that logic, few of us here could be ‘American feminists’ and I could not count myself as an ‘American queer theorist’ as  long as I continue to work in the field of Japanese literature.”

I could respond that way. But I won’t. Instead I would like to take this question quite seriously, because I know that Takemura-san did.  The question I am referring to is: “What does it mean to be a Japanese feminist working on American and British literature?” There is also a group of other, similar questions that cluster around this one, and that are, I think, extremely relevant to all of us in this room.  What does it mean to do queer or feminist work with a focus on another culture beside your “own?”  What are the institutional politics that subtend our ability to study Japanese feminism in the United States or Takemura-san’s to study American feminism in Japan? In order to start to answer this question I would like to say a little bit more about how I met Kazuko and then close with a reading of another essay of hers, the final chapter in the 2012 book that I just mentioned, that addresses this question head-on.

In the mid 1990s I was in Tokyo supposedly doing research for my dissertation, but actually spending most of my time working with a group called “OCCUR: The Japan Association for the Lesbian and Gay Movement.” (アカー:動くゲイとレズビアンの会)  OCCUR was involved on a number of fronts in the struggle for the rights and recognition of sexual minorities in Japan.  They were the plaintiffs in the first-ever legal case involving gay rights in Japan, in which they sued the Tokyo Metropolitan Government for excluding homosexuals from its youth hostels. They were working both at the community level and with the Ministry of Health in HIV prevention and treatment issues. They were the Asian representative in the International Lesbian and Gay Association. They provided anonymous telephone counseling for gays and lesbians, and even queer-friendly English conversation classes.

But OCCUR’s work did not stop with its activism. This was the 1990s--the early, heady days of queer theory coming out of the U.S., and my friends in OCCUR were eager for more theoretical tools with which to strategize, to better understand and theorize the structure of Japanese heteronormative society. To that end, for several years we had a monthly seminar called the “Identity Research Group,”(アイデンティティ研究会)--eventually, affectionately abbreviated as the “ID-ken”--in which we read and discussed work in feminism and the emerging field of queer theory, including that of Monique Wittig, Luce Irigaray, Gayle Rubin, Judith Butler, Eve Sedgwick, Leo Bersani, D.A. Miller, Lee Edelman, and others.  Most of this work remained untranslated at the time, and it was often my job, with the help of those members of OCCUR who were also able to read the texts in English, to attempt to convey the arguments in Japanese.  This, as you might imagine, was not the easiest thing to do, and so we were very eager to have help from scholars—and also to  have proper translations into Japanese.

It was in this context that I first met Takemura Kazuko. I think it was in 1995 or 1996. I can’t remember the exact occasion of our first meeting, but I do remember very clearly a trip to her apartment near Tsukuba University, where she was teaching English and American literature.  I went with several other OCCUR members including Kawaguchi Kazuya(河口和也) and Niimi Hiroshi(新美広)--all gay men, and we spent the day eating pizza on the floor, smoking innumerable cigarettes, and talking for hours about how to make queer theory matter in Japan and in Japanese. This was a serious issue for us because queer theory was just starting to become a sort of fad in academic publishing in Japan, and this was happening in almost complete isolation from the activist community and even from the queer community.  Kazuko, who was teaching at Tsukuba University at the time, was one of the only academics in Japan who was not only conversant with queer theory and its feminist roots, but saw it, like my friends in OCCUR and I did, as a sort of life line--a mode of resistance and a form of cultural activism. So we were thrilled to have her come to our kenkyukai from time to time and eventually to get her help as we began to publish our own translations of queer theory into Japanese *4. She was already an accomplished translator, having just published a translation of Trinh T Minh-Ha’s Women, Native, Other: Writing Postcoloniality and Feminism in 1995. In 1999 she published her flawless translation of Judith Butler’s Gender Trouble and would go on to bring out many more important translations, including Butler’s Antigone’s Claim in 2002, Excitable Speech in 2004, and Butler and Gayatri Spivak’s Who Sings the Nation State? in 2008.

But Takemura-san was not only a gifted translator. Actually, let me rephrase that. Takemura-san was a gifted translator, and for her, I think, translation of U.S. feminist and queer theory was very much part of a larger project--namely the fight against misogyny and heteronormativity within Japan. Her work as a translator was perhaps not unlike Yamakawa Kikue’s translation of the work of Edward Carpenter that Sarah Frederick will be speaking about on this panel; it was a natural outgrowth of her work as a feminist and a integral part of her scholarship. Takemura-san was, I think it is fair to say, one of, if not the most important figure in the founding of sexuality studies in Japan.  When I met her in 1995 she was also in the midst of publishing a ground-breaking six part essay on “The Possibility of Lesbian Studies” in the journal Eigo Seinen, despite well meaning advice from other academics that to write about such things was “vulgar.” [品位を落とす]*5.  And she would go on to publish much more brilliant work right up until, and indeed even after her tragic death on December 13, 2011. She seems to have had three additional books “in her drawer” at the time of her death.

I would like to discuss just one piece of that work in the time remaining to me today. Takemura-san’s 2012 book The Challenge of the Literary: Family, Desire, Terrorism [Bungakuryoku no chōsen: famirii, yokubō, terorizumu is an extraordinary work about which there is much to say, but I would like here to focus in on the final chapter, titled “Renaissance of a Discipline? On Researching Anglophone Literature in Japan Today.”  In this chapter, Takemura-san directly addresses the question “What does it mean to study literature written in English while living in Japan?  And what does it mean to do this as a feminist?” As I mentioned earlier, this is something that we, feminist scholars of Japanese literature writing in the US could stand to think about as well, and I think Takemura-san’s approach is really exemplary.

If Japanese studies in the US has as its “original sin” its Cold War origins in Area Studies, English literature in Japan has its own checkered past *6. It emerged in the early 20th century, as part of a woefully uncritical identification with Britain and British imperial culture, even as Japan was in the process of becoming an Empire itself. The postwar period, moreover, saw the emergence in Japan of an American Studies with a similarly problematic origin.  In her essay, Takemura points out the interesting fact that the institutional structure for the study of both British literature in the early 20th century and American literature in the postwar period did not follow, but was at least co-eval with, or even prior to the institutionalization of these disciplines in Britain and the United States. Thus Tokyo University had a program in English literature starting in the 1890s (famously taught first by Lafcadio Hearn, then by Natsume Sōseki, and later by Yone Noguchi), while Oxford only started teaching it in 1894 and Cambridge not till 1911. Similarly, the Japanese American Studies Association was founded in 1946, five years earlier than anything like it would exist in the United States. In pointing this out, Takemura is not making a claim for Japan’s admirable precocity. Far from it. For her, what is readable in this historical chronology is a powerful mimetic desire on “Japan’s” part towards these dominant Western powers--a desire to get closer to them, to “befriend” Britain and America, and in embracing that friendship---a kind of male homosocial friendship, in fact--to avoid having to think about its own subject position either as pseudo-colonial subject or as an imperial subject in its own right.

“What has prevailed then,” write Masao Miyoshi in an essay about the history of English literature in Japan,

is the ongoing doctrine of equivalence, which, by emphasizing identification minimizes the significance of difference. The problems of English literature as they are faced in England are transplanted to become the problems of the Japanese study of English literature. There is nearly total indifference to the Japanese context in which such such naturalization of alien perspectives must continually occur *7

Miyoshi does not mince words in this essay. He talks about the “intellectual vacuity,” of English literature in Japan, about its tendency to “merely celebrate in reverence,” and at one point he describes how, “The journal Eigo Seinen (literally, English-language Youths, translated as The Rising Generation) was launched in 1898 to serve—despite its ghastly title—as the central organizing paper of the English establishment of Japan to this day” *8. As is often the case with Miyoshi, his critique here is spot on--but somewhat vitiated by his own desire to establish himself as the one who knows better.

It was in this same journal, Eigo Seinen, despite its “ghastly title” and its complicity with Japanese and British Imperialism, in which Takemura-san published her six-part essay on lesbian studies I mentioned earlier. Unlike Miyoshi, who left Japan soon after the war and whose professional identity was very much tied up in that departure, Takemura-san stayed in Japan and did work within English and American studies there. And while she was certainly in agreement in many ways with Miyoshi’s critique (and indeed quotes quite liberally from it and from other recent books in Japanese making similar arguments) she is less interested in this kind of “unveiling” of the ideological foundations of her own discipline and its complicity with imperialism, than in working to articulate and theorize her own particular position as a Japanese feminist working in this field *9 .

This is a question, she writes, that she only began to think seriously about in the early 2000s. She mentions three incidents in her life which provoked;this serious thinking. The first incident occurred during a panel that she moderated at a conference in 2003 of the Tokyo branch of the American Literature Association. The topic was:  “The “Chaos and Violence of the Post-Family Era: Feminist Readings of American Literature in Late 2003.”  The papers were wonderful, and the panel was a great success.  But during the question and answer period, “a certain sociologist” in the audience (Ueno Chizuko tells me it was she) asked the following question:

“What does it mean to have this kind of discussion of American literature in Japan, in Japanese, in front of a Japanese audience?” *10

 
Takemura-san writes that her first reaction was to think that in this post-post structuralist age such a question was at best naive and at worst unnecessarily provocative. I imagine that she felt a lot like I did when, at the Association of Japanese Literary Studies conference at Rutgers University a few years ago--on panel for which Takemura-san was supposed to be the discussant had illness not prevented her from coming-- I gave a paper on Eve Sedgwick and Soseki, only to be asked, “What possible relevance can Eve Sedgwick have to Japanese literature?  She writes about British literature doesn’t she?”

Well, Takemura-san responded to this sociologist’s question in the same spirit that I am afraid I did to that question at the AJLS, although no doubt much more elegantly.  In the book, she reproduces her own response—I think intentionally— as a kind of parody of rootless and ludic postmodern theory. Marshaling the heaviest of theoretical guns — quoting Derrida and Homi Bhaba, and reader response theory, she launches in:

As readings multiply and we move further and further away from the original, the text only becomes richer, reproducing itself in ever more productive ways, as these manifold readings circle back into the text, enabling the production of new texts.  Therefore there is absolutely nothing unproductive about discussing American literature in Japan, in Japanese, to an audience made up exclusively of Japanese people. *11

While she felt good about this answer at the time, Takemura-san writes that she became increasingly dissatisfied with it.  She began to ask herself more critical questions about her own status as a Japanese scholar of Anglophone literature.  This did not mean, she insists, that she came to think that American and British literature should only be discussed by Americans and Brits, but rather that she began to take seriously what she at first thought was a naive (or just an annoying) question:  What does it mean to read Anglophone literature in Japan? What does it mean to do that as a feminist?

The second factor that got her to start thinking differently about her identity as a scholar of Japanese literature was her attendance at a number of international conferences in Asia in the early 2000s, where she began to meet other Asian scholars working on Anglophone literature.  For the first time, she found herself discussing American and British literature with other scholars whose native language was not English and who came from countries that each had their own local institutions devoted to the study of “English” and “American” literature.  She describes the collective impact of these encounters as constituting something like a “body blow” to her own self-understanding.  As a result of this “body blow,” she describes, “a dawning awareness that even as English literature existed in each country as an institutionalized system, something was deviating from these institutions, something was wriggling up and crawling out from in between them.  What sort of professional identity, then, should I have in such a context?” *12 The verb that Takemura-san uses here and that I have translated as “wriggling up” is “ugomeku,” — not a very appealing term, and quite a frightening-looking kanji (蠢く), one that brings to mind a nest of worms or maggots all squirming in different directions.  This is not, then, exactly a vision of pan-Asian solidarity (Takemura-san was, I think, quite free of such sentimentalism) as much as a metaphor for a truly, even disturbingly diverse set of reading practices. If English literature as an institution in these Asian countries could be said to be part of the apparatus of a sort of post-colonial cultural imperialism, organized in order to bring the subaltern into closer, more intimate contact with the metropole (as we saw Miyoshi noting earlier),  it was also true that countless acts of actually reading literature, and reading it closely, were producing a different sort of energy—less an organized collectivity with a single purpose (such as coming closer to England and America) but a kind of swarm of difference.  “The third reason,” she writes,

is even more individual, more about myself.  I started to write about sexuality in the early 1990s.  Or rather, I first became able to write about sexuality at that time. But I began to wonder about the connection between my being a scholar of Anglophone literature  and my writing on sexuality. What does it mean for me to be a scholar of English literature? What is it that underwrites my professional identity as such? *13

Having listed these three factors that she says caused her to reevaluate her own professional identity as a scholar of English literature, Takemura recalls the one figure in the history of English literature in Japan who thought about this most carefully, who remained outside of its blind adoration of England and “doctrine of equivalence” and struggled to find a different relation to it. For Takemura (and for Miyoshi as well) this figure is Natsume Soseki, who, as is well known, studied in England for the first two years of the last century--and who seems to have hated every minute of it.

As Miyoshi puts it,  “Soseki had no one to talk to and was desperately lonely. He persisted nevertheless in pondering what literary studies meant and, what was more important for him, what it could mean for a Japanese to study English literature. He read, wrote, and collected books in nearly total isolation until he had a severe nervous breakdown” *14. Soseki, like Takemura-san, persisted in questioning his own positionality, and yet “The critical issues Soseki confronted were never vigorously discussed [by those who succeeded him], but rather were deliberately avoided, and the institutionalization of English literature continued on” *15 .

Takemura-san does a lot with the contrast which I hope you have begun to notice creeping into my talk today, between “friendship” and “loneliness.” On the one hand, there is the institution of British or American literature in Japan, whose goal is to bring two nation states, two Empires into a relation of “friendship.”  By being good boys and studying hard, by looking up every word in the OED, scholars of English literature in Japan try to get closer to the mother (or father?) text, to reduce as far as possible to the distance between themselves and England or America, and to revel in a sort of spurious cosmopolitanism.  This, for Takemura, however, has nothing to do with the actual encounter with literature (and here I recall the title of her book, so hard to translate, The Challenge of the Power of Literature, or The Defiant Power of Literature?), which problematizes rather than assumes community, and the quasi-familial, usually heteronormative gender relations that go with it. She quotes Natsume Soseki talking about this very issue in his famous speech “My Individualism,” where he argues against groupthink.

Simply stated, individualism is a philosophy that replaces cliquism with values based on personal judgement of what is right and wrong. An individualist is not forever running with the group (朋党), forming cliques that thrash around blindly in the interests of power and money. That is why there lurks beneath the surface of his philosophy a loneliness unknown to others. As soon as we deny our little groups, then I simply go my way and I let the other man go his, unhindered. Sometimes, in some instances, we cannot avoid becoming scattered. That is what is lonely *16

In a brilliant move, Takemura brings Soseki’s critique of what he calls “cliquism” and his recognition of the inevitable “loneliness” of his “individualist” to Gayatri Spivak’s recent critique of both the “old” comparative literature for its humanism and the “new” cultural/ethnic studies for its identity politics.  Both, she says, in what Takemura describes as an uncanny echo of Soseki, are engaging in an “unexamined politics of collectivity"*17.

Of course Soseki was not exactly a feminist. Nor could he stand completely outside the male homosocial world that he so faithfully described and critiqued in his fiction. In the same lecture on “My Individualism” he shows himself to be completely unsympathetic to the cause of women’s suffrage in Britain. (Although his argument that their bad behavior is “un-British” sounds a bit different once you remember how much he hated Britain). But he was able, Takemura argues, to maintain a critical stance toward the institution of English literature, even as he worked to found it.

There is something queer about this.  And Takemura-san was quite clear about it. She explains that the title of her essay (“Renaissance of a Discipline?”) is a sort of hybrid.  Half (the “Discipline” part) is taken from Spivak’s book Death of a Discipline. In that book Spivak argues for a new kind of Comparative Literature that does not rely on an “unexamined politics of collectivity” be it liberal humanism or naive identity politics. Questioning these unexamined collectivities is crucial, she argues, so as to arrive at a new form of democracy that is consonant with a feminist and post-colonial politics. In order to do this, she borrows from Derrida’s work on friendship to ask, "Can democracy--invariably claimed as a politics, or perhaps the politics of friendship--function without a logofratrocentric notion of collectivity: With the sister allowed in rarely, and only as an honorary brother?" *18

The other half of Takemura’s title (the word “Renaissance”), she says, is taken from F. O. Mathiessen’s 1942 book American Renaissance, the text that founded the field of American literary studies in the US by establishing as its “canon” the works of Melville,  Thoreau, Emerson, Hawthorne and Whitman. As Henry Abelove explained in a powerful essay,  a certain queerness is readable in this choice of works to canonize and throughout this founding work of American studies, but the institution of American studies has been busy disavowing this queerness ever since. I quote from Abelove’s Deep Gossip, a book which I am not sure that Kazuko read, but that I feel certain she would have liked very much.

Matthiessen’s explicit theme is the culture of democracy in mid-nineteenth century America. What is inexplicit, what is merely suggested, is the question the book frames without asking: what was the erotic meaning of that democracy, the erotic dynamic, the ties, affections, that bound together those white men, suppositionally equal, suppositionally brothers, who were the privileged subject of the old republic? And if we knew that erotic dynamic, would we know something pertinent to the tasks of improving and deepening and expanding and advancing and even reconstituting democracy in the present?  Whitman had long before described the old democracy as ‘boys, together clinging, fulfilling our foray.’ What was that clinging? Was the old democracy distinguishable from white male homosexuality as Matthiessen knew it, and if so, how? *19

“Queer studies,” Abelove goes on to say, was thus always there at the start of American Studies as part of its “unconscious.” Mathiessen himself, harassed for his leftist politics and his homosexuality, would kill himself, out of despair and loneliness, by jumping from a hotel window in 1950. As was the case with Soseki’s skepticism about English studies in Japan, this queer unconscious of American studies was ignored and repressed as the institution grew. And yet the future of American Studies, Abelove writes, “will depend in large measure on whether or not that unconscious is permitted to return” *20. Kazuko recognizes in her own essay, in a similar vein, that Soseki, arguably, like Mathiessen, a “founding father” of both English literary studies in Japan and of modern Japanese literature itself, was putting a similar question about the place of male-male eroticism in his vision of Japanese democracy. He wrote his senior thesis, it bears remembering, on Walt Whitman’s ideal of the “Manly Love of Comrades”*21.

One the one hand: Spivak’s question, in Death of Discipline, about how to find a place for the sister, for women in a democracy too often imagined as a band of brothers.  On the other, Mathiessen’s--and Soseki’s--unasked question, about the male homoerotics of democracy.  Kazuko’s hybrid title is also a question: “Renaissance of a Discipline?”  She writes that she explained this to Spivak in an email and the latter fired back a response, saying that “There can be no Renaissance of English literary Studies in Japan. That’s not the kind of Comparative Literature I was writing about.”  Kazuko wrote back.

No, that’s not what I mean. I’m not talking only about Comparative Literature. I mentioned Mathiessen only because I wanted to say that the kind of English literary studies that I am hoping for has not yet been born, so it can hardly be reborn. I mean something else with the term “renaissance.” Something else, that has to do with “friendship” *22.

What does it mean, then, to write about Anglophone literature in Japan, as a feminist, as a queer theorist? What does it mean to write about Japan from the U.S. or elsewhere?  Takemura-san mentioned three things, you will recall, that got her thinking about this question seriously.  First--being asked at that conference in Tokyo--What does it mean to study American texts inside Japan?  Second, asking herself at conferences in Asia, What does it mean to study American or British texts with other scholars outside of America or Britain?  Both of these questions, it is fair to say, are about destabilizing both one’s own subject position and the putative “object” of one’s study.  If that object is “attractive,” is it intrinsically so? Or are there external forces that have made it so?  Or both?


The answer is, and I think, must be: “both.” And this, I think, is why the third factor that Takemura wrote about is so important.  This was her own increasing focus on questions of sexuality since the early 1990s.  When I mentioned this earlier, the reason for this may not have been clear. But let me spell it out here at the end. To study sexuality is to study the forces--the powers of “love” or “libido” or whatever you might call them--that draw us both towards and away from each other and from the various objects we cathect.  It is to take seriously the question: “What does it mean to ‘love’ what we study?  Or to hate it?  How much of this is about individual taste, and how much of it about structural forces outside our control? How do the institutional histories of the disciplines that we work within shape, enable, and limit this?”


The subtitle of Takemura-san’s book that I been discussing is “Family / Desire / Terrorism.”  The full title, then, is “The Challenge of the Power of Literature: Family / Desire / Terrorism.”  When I first saw these words on the cover I read them paratactically, as a simple list of keywords that the book treats.  But as I read the book itself, I realized that this is not just a list of terms. Rather they represent a kind of spectrum of different forms and intensities of the same libidinal and social “glue,” -- the glue that connects all kinds of groups, from the romantic couple, to the family, to the community of English literary studies in Japan, to the nation, and even, at its most extreme, the terrorist cell.  Taking that “glue” seriously, and recognizing that -- and how -- the line between family, friendship, and erotic desire is always shifting, is what it means to write about sexuality seriously. And this, I think, is why sexuality was key to Takemura-san’s ability to confront and think through those questions about her own positionality among the world historical forces that shaped “English literature.”  This is what makes her work feminist and queer at once.  And this is why it is worth reading for feminist and queer scholars in Japan Studies, even if it is not “about Japan.”

But I cannot end, as a literary scholar, without also saying that what is really thrilling about Takemura-san’s work, and the reason that she and I were friends, is that it does not stop with this question of “positionality.”  It is also about the literary, “The Challenge of the Power of Literature,” as the book’s main title reads.  This is why, in the texture of its close and loving readings of actual literary texts, Takemura-san finds room for something else, something unexpected, and moving, to “crawl up and wriggle out,” from between the lines.


*1 Takemura Kazuko, Bungakuryoku no chōsen: famirī yokubō terorizumu. Tokyo: Kenkyūsha, 2012.
*2 Takemura describes her encounter with Butlers’ work in “Kiki-teki jōkyō no naka de bungaku to feminizumu wo kenkyū suru imi.” In Kenkyū suru imi. Ed. Komori Yōichi. Tokyo Tosho, 2003. 138-163. 「バトラーは、私が求めていたもの、ずっともやもやしていて、研究の場に引き出せないと思っていた事柄を、明確に分節化してくれました.『ジェンダー・トラブル』は難解だとよく言われますが、むしろスリリングな書物で、私は興奮して読みました。」145.
*3 “Yakusha atogaki.” Jendā toraburu. Tokyo: Seidosha, 1999. ジェンダー・トラブル』は...わたしたちの現実に、直接にためらいなく、わたしたちの隠れた現実を目の前に引きずり出してくれるものである...どうか複雑な言い回しに気持ちを萎えさせないで、バトラーにつきあうつもりで、ゆっくり、じっくりと読んでほしい(295)。
*4  The culmination of this work was a special issue of the journal Gendai shisō, titled “Lesbian Gay Studies.”  The issue included an essay by Takemura on bisexuality.  See Takemura Kazuko, “Bōkyaku / torikomi no senryaku: baisekushuariti josetsu” Gendai shisō. Rinji zōkan, vol. 25-6, May 1997. 248-256.
*5 Bungakuryoku no chōsen, 319. The articles on lesbian studies appeared in Eigo Seinen, volume 142, issues 4-9 (July-December, 1996).
*6 Masao Miyoshi has memorably described the situation of area studies in the U.S. thusly : “More than fifty years after war’s end, American scholars are still organizing knowledge as if confronted by an implacable enemy and thus driven by the desire either to destroy it or to marry it.”  Learning Places: The Afterlives of Area Studies. Ed. Masao Miyoshi and Harry Harootunian.  Duke University Press, 2002. 5.
*7 Masao Miyoshi, “The Invention of English Literature in Japan.” Japan in the World. Durham: Duke University Press, 1993. 271-287. 284.
*8 Ibid, 283.
*9 The other two books she mentions are 齋藤一『帝国日本の英文学』人文書院、二〇〇六年。And 宮崎芳三『太平洋戦争と英文学者』研究社、一九九六年。
*10 Bungakuryoku no chōsen, 289. [このようなアメリカ文学の発表や議論を、日本で,日本語で、日本の観客に向かってだけ発する意義はどこにあるか]
*11 Bungakuryoku no chōsen. 289. 読みはつねに、多様に、そして遠くへ,それゆえさらに豊穣に,さらに生産的なかたちで再生産され、翻ってその読みが置換され、変容したかたちでテクストに舞い戻り、新しいテクストの生産へと導いていく、したがってアメリカ文学を日本で,日本語で、日本の観客だけに論じることが非生産的だということは毛頭もない。
*12 Bungakuryoku no chōsen, 290. それが英文学がそれぞれの国において制度として機能しているという自覚と、そういった制度から逸脱してあるいは横断して、なにが蠢いているのか、蠢きうるのだろうか、そのとき私は英文学者としてどんなプロフェショナル・アイデンティティをもっていくのだろうかと考えるようになったことです。
*13  Bungakuryoku no chōsen, 290. 三番目はさらに個別的なこと、わたし自身のことです。一九九〇年代の前半あたりからセクシュアリティについて書くようになりました。というか、セクシュアリティについて書けるようになったのですが、書き進めるにしたがって,自分が英文学の研究者であるということと、セクシュアリティについて書いていることがどのように繋がるのだろうと考えるようになり,ひいては,自分が英文学の研究者であることは、どんなことなのか、そもそものプロフェッショナル・アイデンティティは、なべて何によって裏書きされているのかと考えるようになってきたことです.
*14 Miyoshi, “The Invention of English Literature in Japan.” 281.
*15 Ibid, 283.
*16 Quoted in Bungakuryoku no chōsen, p 302. 「もっと解りやすく云えば、党派心がなくって理非がある主義なのです。朋党を結び団隊を作って、権力や金力のために盲動しないという事なのです。それだからその裏面には人に知られない淋しさも潜んでいるのです。すでに党派でない以上、我は我の行くべき道を勝手に行くだけで、そうしてこれと同時に、他人の行くべき道を妨げないのだから、ある時ある場合には人間がばらばらにならなければなりません。そこが淋しいのです。」For the English translation, see Natsume Sōseki, Theory of Literature and Other Critical Writings. Edited by Michael K. Bourdaghs, Atsuko Ueda, and Joseph A. Murphy. New York: Columbia University Press, 2009. 260.
*17 Gayatri Spivak, Death of A Discipline. New York: Columbia University Press, 2003. 28.
*18 Spivak, 32.
*19 Henry Abelove, Deep Gossip. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2005. 62-63.
*20  Ibid, 69.
*21 「文壇における平等主義者の代表者ウォルト・ホイットマンの詩について」『漱石全集 第13巻』岩波書店、1993年、13‐20頁。
*22 Bungakuryoku no chōsen, 321.「いや、そういう意味で−−つまり比較文学だけの土壌で−−わたしは話そうとしているのではない.わたしがマシーセンをだしたのは、そもそも初めから、私が望む英文学という装置は生まれていないので、それを『再生』することはできない。だけれども、再生ということを使って、別のことをいいたい。それは『友情』に関係することだ。」



Japanese Translation by Naoko Uchibori is available on WAN: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Posted by Aya Kitamura