The Asia-Pacific Journal | Japan Focus Volume 7 | Issue 47 | Number 5 | Article ID 3260 | Nov 16, 2009

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Writing Hiroshima and Nagasaki in the 21st Century: A NewGeneration of Historical Manga ２１世紀において広島・長崎を書くーー新世代の歴史マンガ

Michele Mason

Writing Hiroshima and Nagasaki inthe 21st Century: A New Generationof Historical Manga

Michele Mason

This article addresses the struggles of twomanga artists, Kōno Fumiyo and Nishioka Yuka,who attempt to portray the unprecedentedtragedies of Hiroshima and Nagasaki for acontemporary audience, and how they come toterms with their authority to write this historyas non-hibakusha.

While historical comics (manga) have generallynot captured the popular imagination in theUnited States, they regularly rate among thetop bestsellers of the medium in Japan.Examples range from the mostly fictionalized“chanbara” works that glorify samuraiswordsmen to narratives featuring prominenthistorical figures, such as Miyamoto Musashi,Caesar, and Gautama Buddha, as written byTezuka Osamu in his biography Buddha(1972-83). While the era of the samurairemains a particular favorite, other historicalmoments have also provided rich sourcematerials for this genre of graphic novels. Forexample, Tezuka’s work, Shumari (Shumari,1974-76), set in Meiji era (1868-1912)Hokkaido and Gomikawa Junpei and AbeKenji’s The Human Condition (Ningen no jōken,1971), which treats Japanese imperialismduring the Asia-Pacific War (1931-1945).

Some historical manga go beyond simpleentertainment and take explicit pedagogical orpropagandistic aims. There is, for instance,Ishimori Shōtarō’s monumental A Comic BookHistory of Japan (Manga nihon no rekishi,1997-99), whose fifty-five volumes cover over amillennium of Japanese history. In the vein oftackling overlooked and controversial subjectsare Sato Shugā’s two critical volumes on thehistory of the emperor system (Nihonjin totennō, 2000 and Tennōsei wo shiru tame nokingen daishi nyūmon, 2003), Higa Susumu’sKajimunugatai (2003), depicting the Battle ofOkinawa, and more recently the collectivelyproduced Ampo Struggle (Ampo tōsō, 2008).Yamano Sharin’s Manga: Hating the KoreanWave (Manga: kenkanryū) is just one exampleof the growing number of revisionist andnationalistic histories. In The Past Within Us:Media, Memory, History, Tessa Morris-Suzukistates, “…comic book versions of history –whether fictional or non-fictional – haveprobably shaped popular understandings ofhistory at least as much as any textbook.”1 Withtheir compelling combination of visuals andtext, historical manga clearly represent apowerful means for constructing modernnotions of the past and shaping nationalcollective memories.

Recently, two Japanese manga artists havetried their hand at writing about one of Japan’smost significant historical events, namely theatomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The bestselling and award-winning Town ofEvening Calm, Country of Cherry Blossoms(Yūnagi no machi sakura no kuni)2 by Kōno

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Fumiyo first appeared in 2003, with a live-action film version debuting in 2007. In 2008,Nishioka Yuka published A Summer’sAfterimage: Nagasaki – August 9 (Natsu nozanzō: Nagasaki no hachigatsu kokonoka).3

Both feature prominent female protagonistsand inter-generational narratives that addresssuch topics as discrimination against hibakusha(atomic bomb survivors),4 living in post-A-bombpoverty, the plight of Korean survivors, and theuncomfortable implications of both the denialof Japanese aggression in Asia and theAmerican myth that continues to justify thebombings.

Both Kōno and Nishioka, who grew up inHiroshima and Nagasaki, respectively, havecommented on their struggles over how toportray these unprecedented tragedies andhow to come to terms with their authority towrite this history as non-hibakusha.Committing to their projects more than sixtyyears after the events, these two manga artistsnegotiate difficult ethical terrain. Motivated toreach a new audience that knows little of thetruth of this period of history, Kōno andNishioka grapple with balancing the need tocreate stories that will capture readers’attention and the imperative to maintain ethicallimits of representation that respect bothsurvivors and the dead.

In this article, I elucidate how narrativestructure and perspective in Town of EveningCalm, Country of Cherry Blossoms and ASummer’s Afterimage: Nagasaki – August 9 arelinked to their creators’ position in history.Namely, Kōno’s and Nishioka’s narrativescreatively interweave stories of the past andpresent viewed from the vantage point of thechildren and grandchildren of survivors,prioritizing the long aftermath over theimmediate effects of the bombings. This choiceis also manifested in the scant number offrames “recreating” August 6 and 9. The “pointof view,” anchored in the central characters,might more appropriately be characterized,

especial ly in the case of A Summer’sAfterimage, as the “point of listening.”Ultimately, Kōno’s and Nishioka’s narrativestrategies ensure that these works are not justa “re-telling” of these two historical events, butmake crucial connections to their relevance toglobal citizens living in the 21st century.

Non-Hibakusha Writers and the Ethics ofRepresentation

The thorny issues related to the representationof the atomic bombings of Hiroshima andNagasaki – for instance, the inability oflanguage to fully convey the reality ofsurvivors’ experiences and the significantchasm between the victim-writers’ experiencesand the non-victim readers’ abil ity to“understand” them – have sparked debateamong and presented challenges to thehibakusha community. In his invaluable work,Writing Ground Zero: Japanese Literature andthe Atomic Bomb, John Whittier Treat remarksthat the belief on the part of some survivorsthat their experiences are “unspeakable” andinaccessible to outsiders, poses a “considerabletechnical and even ethical hurdle”5 to thewriting process. Moreover, in confronting thedecision to write or remain silent, survivors feela justif ied apprehension towards the“stylization” of language necessitated whencommitting one’s experiences to paper, fearingoutsiders may dismiss the truth of their“unimaginable” narratives as “fiction,” or,equally troubling, as “too real.”6 As Treat notes,even the most capable stand frozen in the faceof the task. “Hibakusha who were or becomeprofessional writers, and who thus might bethought to have the talent to make the‘incredible’ available to us, …confess anemotional surplus that paradoxically paralyzedthe expression of those emotions and that madeordinary communication impossible.”7

Still, hibakusha have taken up the pen for agreat many reasons. Some seek to comprehendtheir experiences or attend to grief by

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addressing the trauma. Some feel compelled todocument the pain and losses for themselvesand others. Recording their testimonies andpersonal experiences is sometimes understoodas a moral imperative to challenge those whowrite history in such a way that justifies the useof atomic weapons. Due to the perseverance ofmany writers, professional and otherwise, avast and varied collection of prose, poetry, anddrama now constitutes a genre in and of itselfknown as “atomic-bomb literature” (genbakubungaku).

The non-hibakusha who attempts to depict sucha disturbing and monumental event confronts adifferent, yet sufficiently challenging, set ofproblems. Her preparation begins not only inthe factual historical research – which may beemotionally challenging enough in and of itselfto forestall the project – but also the task offraming her legitimacy to write on the subject.If one considers Hiroshima writer FumizawaTakaichi’s statement, “It was a primal eventthat denies all but other hibakusha its vicariousexperience,”8 or hibakusha poet Hara Tamiki’squestion of “whether the meaning of the atomicbomb could be grasped by anyone whose ownskin had not been seared by it,”9 it is onlynatural that a non-victim should pause andeven doubt the feasibility of writing on thesubject.

In the essay “The Ethical Limitations ofHolocaust Literary Representation,” AnnaRichardson, examines contentious debates onrepresenting the Holocaust, tracing tensionsbetween arguments for keeping silent andspeaking out, testimony and fictionalization,survivor and non-survivor writing and ethicsand aesthetics.10 In weighing the argument thatthe writing of fictional narratives of theHolocaust by non-victims can be disrespectfulto survivors, Richardson quotes Imre Kertesz,who writes, “the survivors watch helplessly astheir only real possessions are done away with:authentic experiences.”11 As numerous scandalsover fake memoirs in recent years suggest,

there is a moral prohibition against falselyclaiming legitimacy to write traumaticmemory.12 The tacit bond of trust between thewriter and reader is paramount, andRichardson cautions that representations ofextreme horrors by those who are not victims“…runs the risk of negating similar excesses ofviolence represented in actual testimony, and,in the worst case scenario, opening the door forHolocaust deniers to claim that other accountsare equally fictitious.”13 While cognizant of thecharged nature of representation, Richardsonmakes a case for the benefits of Holocaustfiction, by both survivors and non-survivors,suggesting it is not a question of whether buthow one represents these events.14 She pointsout that fictionalizations may have theadvantage of being “more accessible than asurvivor memoir,”15 have important pedagogicalvalue, and, above all, ensure that the Holocaustis not forgotten.

New generations of writers, in fact, continue toaddress the Holocaust in a variety of media. The Pulitzer Prize-winning Maus by ArtSpiegelman, son of two Holocaust survivors, isarguably the most famous and courageoushistorical graphic novel from the United States.This groundbreaking work that portrays itsethnic /nat ional characters throughanthropomorphic animals - Jews as mice, Polesas pigs, and Nazis as cats - explicitly illustratesthe struggle of the second-generation in its self-referential mode. In Maus: A Survivor’s Tale,II: And Here My Troubles Began, the authordepicts his own struggle to engage with andportray the unfathomable horror of his topic.Speaking to his therapist, he bemoans, “Mybook? Hah! What book?? Some part of medoesn’t want to draw or think about Auschwitz. I can’t visualize it clearly, and I can’t BEGIN toimagine what it felt like.”16 AddressingHolocaust fiction, Sara Horowitz states,“Because second-generation writers lack…validation in the personal history of theaesthetic project, they must struggle to defineartistic parameters to represent Auschwitz in

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the ways that avoid the pornographic, thevoyeur is t ic , the sensat ional , or thesentimental.”17 In the cases of the Holocaustand the atomic bombings of Hiroshima andNagasaki there is a reasonable “discomfortwith the idea of an aesthetic project built on anactual atrocity”18 with which both writers andreaders must engage directly.

As for atomic-bomb literature, we are certainlyprovoked by Ota Yōko’s City of Corpses,stunned by Tōge Sankichi’s graphic poems, andtouched by Hara Tamiki’s short stories. Wehave little trouble believing the veracity of their“testimony” even in these survivors’ “fictional”and “literary” works. Still, we are likewisemoved by the “storytelling” of Ibuse Masuji,who is not a hibakusha. His Black Rain remainsone of the most famous works of this genre thatcontinues to pass on larger truths of the atomicbombings.19 At the same time that we respectthe authority that comes with being a survivor,we can recognize the merits of works by thosewho are committed to an ethical rendering ofsuch tragic events (whether it be Hiroshima,Nagasaki, or the Shoah) by those who possessno direct experience.

Second generation hibakusha or children ofHolocaust survivors are often particularlyaware of their families’ histories, sometimesthrough oral stories and sometimes by thepalpable absence of them. Discussing artisticworks of second-generation Holocaustsurvivors, Stephen C. Feinstein writes, “This isan event they did not live through, yet theevent, or the memory of the event, has acompelling presence.”20 In their secondarymaterials, Kōno and Nishioka, ever cognizant oftheir native cities’ tragic histories, expresssentiments similar to those of fellow comic-book-artist Spiegleman – apprehension, doubt,hesitancy – as they articulate their motivationsand honestly record their complicatedengagement with the painful subject of theatomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Kōno and Nishioka’s Narrative Strategies

Among historical manga, Nakazawa Keiji’sBarefoot Gen (Hadashi no Gen, serialized from1973-1985 in Weekly Shōnen Jump), stands outas something akin to a “manga memoir,”21

based as it is on the author’s personalexperience as a survivor of the atomic bombingof Hiroshima. After his mother’s death in thelate 1960s, Nakazawa began writing on theatomic bombing in his “Black” and “Peace”series, but it was not until his editor urged himto write about his own experiences that hepenned “I Saw It” (Ore wa mita), which heexpanded to make what would eventuallybecome the ten volumes of Barefoot Gen.22

In Barefoot Gen, readers get to know third-grader Gen (Nakazawa) and his familybeginning in April 1945, “witness” thecatastrophe on August 6, and then take in thefrightful scenes and confusion of the immediateaftermath. Unable to rescue three of his familymembers, Gen attempts to carve out aprecarious existence in the atomic wastelandwith his mother and infant sister, who is bornprematurely on the day of the bombing.Framed through Gen’s experiences, thenarrative portrays emotional reunions anddeaths, ordeals of privation and discrimination,and the harsh realities of life during theoccupation years. Nakazawa deftly weaveslight-hearted humor, centered on the antics ofyoung Gen and his “brothers” and friends, inthis compelling depiction of both the horrors ofthe nuclear attack on Hiroshima and thestruggles of hibakusha in the early postwarper iod . I t might be sa id that such ajuxtaposition of playful and painful scenes isthe prerogative of a survivor like Nakazawa,who speaks of being haunted by “the stench ofcorpses” when he conjures up his manydisturbing memories to write on Hiroshima.23

For writers like Kōno and Nishioka, who arenot survivors or descendents of survivors, thequestions related to writing on the atomic

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bombings are inflected in a decidedly differentway. Although Kōno and Nishioka state clearlythat their works are not based on personalexperience, they still tremble in front of theirprojects and search for a narrative mode thatwill allow them to use their voices and createtheir visions. Both speak to how deeplyaffecting it is to listen to hibakusha testimonies,view photographic images and artisticrenditions, read personal stories, and imaginethe events in the course of preparatoryresearch. They acknowledge the impossibilityof “understanding” the experience of being anatomic bomb victim and never claim alegitimacy that is not rightfully their own.

Kōno was first encouraged to write on“Hiroshima” by her editor. Mistaking hereditor’s meaning at first, Kōno delighted increating a story set in Hiroshima and beingable to use the local dialect freely. When itfinally occurred to her that he was talkingabout “the Hiroshima,” she was immediatelyovercome by doubts. She recalled nearlyfainting more than once when faced withdisturbing artifacts at the Hiroshima Peacememorial or viewing historical footage of theaftermath of the bomb. She admits havingconvinced herself that the atomic bombing ofHiroshima was “a tragedy that occurred in thedistant past” and that she had “tried to avoidanything related to the bomb.”24 However,when Kōno realized that many people outsideof Hiroshima and Nagasaki knew little ornothing about the bombings, she felt it“unnatural and irresponsible to remaindisconnected from the issue.”25 “This was notime to hold back. I hadn’t experienced war orthe bomb firsthand, but I could still draw on thewords of a different time and place to reflect onpeace and express my thoughts.”26 Whileinitially hesitant, Kōno finds that her pastexperience in drawing manga gave her“courage” to take on a story that was not herown. After all, she decided, “drawingsomething is better than drawing nothing atall.”27

Nishioka, as well, found her decision toproduce A Summer’s Afterimage accompaniedby uncertainty and misgivings. A native ofNagasaki, Nishioka grew up thinking she wouldlike to some day write on the city’s tragichistory. However, she recalls, “… as I turnedthe pages of collections of survivors’testimonies, my fingers would simply freeze.How can one convey the cries of people throwninto this hell and stench of death, which are‘beyond imagination’ and ‘impossible toexpress with words’?”28 It was a seeminglyunconnected international incident, Israel’sbombing of the Lebanese city of Qanaa on July30, 2006, that pushed her hand.

Several days later, Japanese peoplewho had been pained by thebombing gathered together, and aman, who was an atomic bombsurvivor took the microphone andmade an appeal, saying, “Soon itwill be August 9. People like mewho have experienced the tragedyof atomic bombs, cannot allowanother war in which innocentchildren are killed in this way.” This gave me a shock. The war-torn city [of Qanaa] and Nagasakiw e r e c o n n e c t e d t h r o u g hsuffering. 2 9

In linking Qanaa and Nagasaki, Nishiokarealizes that she could write from an outsideperspective, which allows her to create Kana,her female protagonist named after the city inLebanon.30 Even after this insight, however,Nishioka’s malaise continued. To make itpossible for her to take on the project shevisited the monument that marks the epicenterin Nagasaki, prayed to the many victims of theatomic bombing, and asked for permission tocreate her manga. With the same tenuousnessdisplayed in Kōno’s phrase “It was better todraw something rather than draw nothing atall,” Nishioka laments. “I was only able to

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merely skim the surface of the atomicbombing.”31

Kōno and Nishioka take pains not to presenttheir work as autobiographical. To address thisoverwhelming concern, both artists center mostor all of their narratives around a descendent,daughter or granddaughter of survivors. Townof Evening Calm, Country of Cherry Blossomsinterweaves stories that move between the1950s and 2005. The first narrative, Town ofEvening Calm, portrays the lives of survivorsHirano Minami and her mother, Fujimi, as theycope with privations in the “atomic slum”(genbaku suramu) of Hiroshima,32 long-termillness related to radiation poisoning, and theloss of three family members. Yet thisconstitutes just one-third of Kōno’s text.Country of Cherry Blossoms, begins in the late1980s, focusing on fifth-grader Nanami, thedaughter of Asahi Ishikawa, Minami’s brotherwho was not in Hiroshima in August 1945.Nanami’s deceased mother was a hibakusha.Much of Nanami’s life is shaped by visits to ahospital where her grandmother (Fujimi) andyounger brother Nagio are treated regularly forchronic illnesses. Part Two, set in 2005, findsNanami on a mission to discover the reasonsbehind her father’s recent odd behavior anddisappearances. When she and an old friendfollow him, they discover that, occasioned bythe 50th anniversary of his sister Minami’sdeath, Mr. Ishikawa had been traveling toHiroshima to hear stories about her frompeople who knew and loved her.

Nanami follows father to family grave inHiroshima. Kōno Fumiyo, 2004. Courtesy of

Futabasha Publishing.

Through flashbacks and subplots, Kōno fleshesout the story of how Nanami’s parents met andgrew to love each other, Nanami’s mother’sdeath, and discrimination against both first-and second-generation hibakusha as marriagepartners.33

The main character and our portal to memoriesin Nishioka Yuka’s ambitious work, A Summer’sA f te r image , i s K imura Kana whosegrandparents survived the Nagasaki atomicbombing. This work grapples with not only thepainful memories and trauma of Japanesesurvivors, but also the discrimination Koreanhibakusha faced, the legacy of Japan’s colonialpast, the American “atomic myth,” andquestions of the morality of science. One of just

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a few works that focuses on Nagasaki,34 ASummer’s Afterimage follows protagonist Kanathrough five vignettes, in which she hears thetestimonies of Japanese and Korean hibakushaand other persons who share their wartimeexperiences as she travels to Nagasaki, theUnited States, and Korea.

Kōno and Nishioka reinforce their historicalpositionality by directing the transmission ofmemories from survivors of the war and atomicbombings to contemporary characters andreaders.35 In much the same way that theirmanga pass on the history of Hiroshima andNagasaki to a new generation, the elders intheir texts share their “authentic memories,”bequeathing them to younger individuals. InCountry of Cherry Blossoms, Nanami’s father,Asahi, who was sent to live with relatives inMito during the war, travels to Hiroshima tohear (and collect) stories about his belovedsister so that he can properly commemorateher death. Pushing the limits of memory is thetouching and humorous scene wherein Asahiasks Kyoka to marry him. This “memory” in factcomes to us in a “flashback” by their daughter,Nanami. She muses: “Perhaps I’d heard thesestories from my mother. Somehow, I rememberthese scenes. From before I was born…I waswatching them. I looked down at those two anddecided to be born to them. I am sure of it.”36

Kōno suggests that when we listen to history –to the stories of those who lived history – it canbecome our memory. In this way she movesaway from the idea of proprietary memorytowards one of shared memory acrossgenerations.

Notably, Nishioka’s narratives emphasizeactive listening and the recognition of historical“others” as she ponders the potential of healingpersonal pain, families, and nations. The fivevignettes in A Summer’s Afterimage maintainthe complexity of people’s differing experiences(from person to person and across nationalities)and highlight the importance of acknowledgingthe suffering of others who were once an

“enemy.” The section “Manhattan Sunset,”follows Kana and her grandmother, who travelto New Mexico to attend an exhibit, whichfeatures a film-clip of Kana’s grandmother soonafter the dropping of the bomb. When thegrandmother takes ill, Dr. Smith, providesmedical assistance and shares a narrative of hischildhood in Los Alamos where his fatherworked with Dr. Oppenheimer to produce theworld’s first three atomic bombs.

Dr. Smith as a child at Los Alamos. NishokaYuka, 2008. Courtesy of Gaifū Publishing Inc.

A trip to the Trinity Test Site reveals Dr.Smith’s conflicted feelings, but ultimately hecannot let go of the idea that the bomb wasnecessary.37

The last episode, “Asian River,” concentrates

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on Kana’s visit to Korea, where she is guided bythe grandson, Soyon, of a Korean hibakusha,Mrs. Park, who was treated by Dr. Kimura,Kana’s grandfather, in Nagasaki after thebombing. Kana listens to Mrs. Park’s movingstory and visits the demilitarized zone (DMZ),“the Berlin Wall of Asia.” Her short trip turnsout to be an important lesson for Kana on thehistory of Japanese colonial ism, thediscrimination against Koreans after the atomicbombing, and the legacy of the Korean War.

Mrs. Park faces discrimination inimmediate aftermath of the bombing.Nishioka Yuka, 2008. Courtesy of Gaifū

Publishing Inc.

On August 15, the day Koreans celebrateliberation from their Japanese oppressors, Kana

and Soyon build and launch a “spirit boat” thatthey name “Asia” for all who passed away inthe war.

Kana and Soyon launch a “spirit boat” inthe name of all who perished in the Asia-

Pacific war. Nishioka Yuka, 2008. Courtesy ofGaifū Publishing Inc.

“The Portrait,” finds Kana and her grandmothergetting ready for anniversary services onAugust 9 when they run into a German whoshares his story of returning from the war tofind nothing more of his wife, a painter, thanher self-portrait. He has come to Nagasaki topay his respects believing that it could just aswell have been Germany that the U.S. bombedwith the new weapon. Together the threeremember the dead and pray for their repose.

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In their plot lines and textual organization, bothKōno and Nishioka create room for collectivememories grounded in the inter-generationaltransmission of “stories.” For most of Kōno andNishioka’s texts both characters and readersare firmly located in our current historicalmoment, occasionally traveling back in time viasurvivors’ testimonies and memories. In avariety of ways, they attempt to link thesummer of 1945 to the contemporary moment,pointing to the lingering social and politicalramifications of history that can otherwiseseem distant and cut off from the present.38

Nishioka’s brief epilogue, in which Kana joinsother high school students collectingsignatures for a petition calling for nuclearabolition, goes one step further in urgingmembers of a new generation to seek their ownplace in this ongoing history.

Given that Kōno and Nishioka’s works areundoubtedly about Hiroshima and Nagasaki,the dearth of scenes depicting August 6 or 9 isstriking. Both eschew drawing scenes thatattempt to “recreate” the period immediatelyafter the atomic attacks. Whereas readers ofNakazawa’s Barefoot Gen join Gen and hisfamily in August 1945 and “witness” the pika-don moment (the initial flash and blast), formost of Kōno’s and Nishioka’s texts, bothcharacters and readers are firmly located inour current historical moment, occasionallytraveling back in time via survivors’ testimoniesand memories. Just three frames in all ninety-eight pages that comprise Town of EveningCalm, Country of Cherry Blossoms depict theimmediate aftermath of the bombing. In theseKōno usually keeps the character Minami in herbody and clothing of 1955 – a mingling of thepresent and the past. In one frame, the heavilypenned hair, shoes, and bags of Minami andher suitor first draw the reader’s eye to thelower left corner. Then we notice the mass ofindistinguishable bodies floating in the riverunder a cracked bridge strewn with debris.

Minami struggles with her disturbingmemories. Kōno Fumiyo, 2004. Courtesy of

Futabasha Publishing.

In another frame, the Minami of 1955 runs pasta group of children’s vacant faces, as sherelives those initial moments of panic, whileone scene shows the postwar Minami followingbehind her sister Kasumi and walking amongstthe dead bodies and detritus.

Only eight pages in A Summer’s Afterimage, awork numbering 132 pages, feature scenes ofthe initial moments of the bombing – forinstance, a flash and a mail carrier blasted intothe air. In one episode, we see a pile of skullsand bones and a woman screaming in tatteredclothing. Still, even though some disturbingimages are included, many of the visuals areone step removed. In one case, we see only thefaint details of four photographs that are part

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of the exhibit in Los Alamos. In one episode, ahighly stylized version of the mushroom cloudsymbolizes the Nagasaki bombing.

There are no attempts to overwhelm our senseswith the violence of the atomic bomb. Ratherthe manga artists choose to portray the quietersuffering of hibakusha and their loved ones. InTown of Evening Calm this is revealed throughthe character Minami who survives ten yearsonly to find that she too will join the ranks ofdead victims. Her last thoughts are, “This isn’tfair. I thought I was one of the survivors.”39

Nanami and her brother Nagio in Country ofCherry Blossoms represent the “secondgeneration” of survivors who endure (atomicrelated) diseases and the silent pain of olderrelatives who continue to grieve for familymembers lost to the bombings. Depictions ofthe mundane details of survival are prioritizedover visuals of the flash, blast, or heat that arare and simple line of text informs us seared abarrette into Minami’s hair and melted thesoles of her shoes.

If these two historical manga focus on theliving more than the dead, it is not because theauthors have forgotten them. One critic of JohnHersey’s 1947 Hiroshima made the provocativeobservation that “The living occupy all theforeground, and the mounds of dead are onlyseen vaguely in the background,”40 whileanother claimed, “To have done the atom bombjustice, Mr. Hersey would have had to interviewthe dead.”41 Richardson maintains that this isprecisely the task that fictional works canperform; “… a work of fiction has the power totake the narrative to places that survivortestimony cannot,”42 namely to let the deadspeak. Hibakusha have made similar claims,such as when Numata Suzuko states “… that asa survivor who was ‘made to live amongthousands of those who fell victim to the bomb,’she feels a need to ‘embrace the voicelessvoices of the dead – so that they do not have tofeel they died in vain.”43 Nishioka’s words echothis idea in her commentary on the episode

called “The Last Letter.”

There is a model for the characterwho is a postal carrier. I finallyrealized something upon hearingthis person’s testimony given afterthe bombing, when he told me in alively fashion about the beautifultownscape and the lives of thepeople before the bomb when hewas going about delivering mail onhis red bicycle. Unti l “thatmoment,” people were going abouttheir modest daily lives just as wedo today. When I faced the factthat before 1945 an atomic weaponhad never been used in war, Ic a m e t o u n d e r s t a n d h o wpresumptuous I had been, and Ifelt compelled to say in front of theepicenter monument “All you whodied, it was not in vain. Certainly,it was not in vain.44

Nishioka also allows those who perished tohave the last word in each of her stories. “Allfive stories collected here end with the wordsof the dead. In lending my ears to the voices ofthe afterimages and bringing them back to lifetoday, I want to offer the only tribute to themthat I can.”45 The moving words of charactersor, in the case of the episode “ManhattanSunset,” the lines of a poem by the Nagasakisurvivor and poet Fukuda Sumako, resonate asthey bring each chapter to an end.46 Even moredirectly Kōno depicts Minami’s last moments inTown of Evening Calm. Pictures of Minami onher deathbed are interspersed with completelyblank frames that convey the heaviness ofdeath better than any number of strokes Kōno’spen could have. Eventually all renderings ofMinami’s body give way to images of faceshovering over her, placing us in her viewpoint.Readers are privy to her thoughts, which areprinted in otherwise empty frames. In oneinstance there is the single word “pain” and in

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another we “hear” Minami thinking, “It’s beenten years. I wonder if the people who droppedthe bomb are pleased with themselves – ‘Yes! Got another one.’”47

Empty frames contain Minami’s dyingthoughts. Kōno Fumiyo, 2004. Courtesy of

Futabasha Publishing.

As many similarities as these two works share,it is imperative to note several significantdifferences. Town of Evening Calm, Country ofCherry Blossoms concentrates on the memoriesof Hiroshima hibakusha and specifically thepersonal experiences of members of theHirano/Ishikawa family. Although emotionallypowerful, Kōno’s work focuses its “humanist”lens narrowly on Hiroshima, failing even tomake the obvious connection with Nagasaki.One of the two references to a wider

conversation on nuclear issues is a large signannouncing the 1955 World ConferenceAgainst Atomic and Hydrogen Bombs(gensuibaku kinshi sekai taikai) that Minamipasses in the street on her way home fromwork. The other is a tattered flyer version ofthe sign, imprinted with the phrase “the powerof peace for Hiroshima,” which flutters in theair and falls to the ground in the framesimmediately preceding Minami’s death. Thisending of the first story begs the question ofwhether the text aims to equate the futility offighting radiation sickness to the peacemovement’s struggle against nuclearproliferation.

Nishioka’s A Summer’s Afterimage on the otherhand, takes a much broader perspective,including the memories of Germans,Americans, and Koreans and addressing a widerange of issues. Although its discursive formatmay be considered a weakness, it maintains thecomplexity of history as it addresses the historyof Japanese colonialism, recognizes thehumanity of those who justify the U.S. decisionto drop the atomic bombs, and poses uneasyquestions regarding science and technology. Ifthe ending of Town of Evening Calm suggests adim prospect for “peace in Hiroshima,”Nishioka’s work concludes on an optimistic andoutward-looking note as Kana joins a group ofyouth bearing a banner that calls for globalnuclear abolition.

Their differing framing of and commitment tobroader issues can be seen in other ways aswell. It is notable that reviews of Kōno’s workroutinely remark that the antiwar stance issubtle. Otaku USA writes that the “anti-warmessage is unspoken, and comes naturally fromthe desire not to see the characters die,”48 andManga: The Complete Guide salutes its“understated antiwar statement.”49 Kōno’sbiography on the backflap is devotedcompletely to her impressive training andaccomplishments as a manga artist, and shedoes not seem to have thought about producing

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a work about the subject until her editorsuggested the project. Nishioka’s authorprof i le , however, makes expl ic i t herengagement with the peace movement, such asher circumnavigation of the globe on the PeaceBoat, her participation in the Hague PeaceConference, and her volunteer work in aPalestinian refugee camp. She also writes, asstated above, that she had long hoped to createa manga on the atomic bombing of Nagasaki.

These differences are not, however, merelymanifestations of personal inclinations. Theyalso reflect distinctions between the way thecities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Kōno andNishioka’s respective hometowns, reflect ontheir atomic legacy and engage with itssignificance today. The Hiroshima PeaceMemorial Museum, even in its updated version,centers on Hiroshima, giving scant attention tothe larger question of nuclear issues, even theatomic bombing of Nagasaki. The NagasakiAtomic Bomb Museum, on the other hand, goeswell beyond the summer of 1945 and theboundaries of its city. Visitors do not leave thebuilding without passing through a hall whoseexhibits present the scope of contemporaryproliferation and make crucial connections withworld-wide environmental degradation andhuman suffering connected to nuclear testing(Marshall Islanders, downwinders in the UnitedStates) and nuclear power plant accidents(Three Mile Island, Chernobyl) and more.

Still, both Kōno and Nishioka clearly see theiraim to be, in large part, educational. Becausethey conceive of their audience as a youngergeneration who knows little of the facts or truthof Hiroshima and Nagasaki, they include maps,historical information, and bibliographicreferences for further reading. Kōno’ssupplementary materials, for example, providecontextualization of what were called the“atomic slums” in Hiroshima and the history ofthe preservation of the Atomic Dome. Nishiokaappends a short essay to explain the eventsupon which each chapter is based and briefly

provides factual details of the Nagasakibombing, discusses problematic tenets of theAmerican “atomic myth,” and introduces youthparticipation in post-war nuclear abolitionmovements. In order to speak of the past and ofthe dead to the living, Kōno and Nishioka buildon their organic “education” from growing upin Hiroshima and Nagasaki. In these twomanga, they bequeath critical historical truthsin a medium that has the power to reachyounger people in the narrative and visuallanguage of their generation.

Conclusion

Different historical periods, events andpersonages permit different degrees of licenseto f ict ional ize. Writ ing on s ingular ,unprecedented events such as the atomicbombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki raisesparticular issues for both survivors and latergenerations. For survivors there are numerouschallenges, not least of which is reliving thetraumatic memories in the writing process.How to overcome the inadequacy of languageto depict the truth of their experiences and thefear that non-survivors might too readilyassume they can “understand” the trauma arealso common concerns. For later generationsthe issues revolve around questions of authorialauthenticity, literary license, historicalimagination, and truthfulness. Kōno andNishioka are the first non-victims to marshalthe popular medium of manga and producenuanced full-volume treatments of the atomicbombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Despitetheir temporal and experiential distance fromthe events and the fact that some may considertheir works “non-literary,” I believe we neednot hesitate to add their works to theimpressive body of atomic-bomb literature. Intheir organization, themes, and tone, these twoworks are distinct. Yet, both writers creativelyengage a weighty subject, and in doing so theyeschew any hint of a memoir, instead aligningtheir narratives’ temporality with a newgeneration of readers who also find themselves

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far removed in time from the atomic bombingsof Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Both Kōno and Nishioka speak to the psychicand conceptual hurdles that had to beovercome to undertake their projects. ThatKōno and Nishioka detail their conflictedfeelings about their subject seems a necessarypart of ethically representing Hiroshima andNagasaki. Ever careful of the bond of trustbetween writer and reader, Kōno and Nishiokatake great pains to position themselves as non-hibakusha, as well as to be faithful to thepersonal accounts inherited from those whoexperienced Hiroshima and Nagasaki firsthand.Through the depict ion of people andexperiences not so removed from our own livesand historical moment, they have effectivelydrawn characters and created stories to whichtheir contemporaries can relate. I would guessthat they would be sympathetic to Germanartist Lily Markiewicz’s statement:

Mine is an exploration of anaftermath, of a past which hasbecome a present, of the absenceof a traceable reality which hasbecome the presence of memory. Iam not concerned with theHolocaust directly, the event, itscauses, reasons and details. I amconcerned with the ripples, theramifications, the consequencesand our perceptions of it – ourplace ‘in it.’50

This idea is suggested in Nishioka’s title, ASummer’s Afterimage, which evokes thepersonal and collective memory that lingerslong after the summer of 1945.

Representations of those fateful days in Augustthat ruptured history and anointed the atomicage with flames and the stench of human fleshplay a crucial role in keeping historical memoryalive. Yet, it is equally important to think

beyond that one month in 1945 to the yearsthat stretched out before the “survivors” andcontemplate the strength and courage neededto live on. Kōno and Nishioka offer a solemnand respectful tribute to both the dead victimsand the hibakusha. Moreover, they give thoseof us who care to reflect on the relevance ofpast suffering to that of our world not just areminder of historical events far removed fromthe present but two fictional manga that speakimportant and timely truths. StephenFeinstein’s statement that “The art thatmemorializes the Holocaust may itself becomethe subject of memory, a memory of a memory,or memory within the complex remembrance ofthe Holocaust”51 seems particularly applicableto these two works. Kōno and Nishioka’shistorical manga – two articulations of“memory” within the complex remembrance ofthe atomic bombings of Hiroshima andNagasaki – offer powerful “afterimages” thatcan inform and shape our collective memoryand future.

Michele Mason is assistant professor of ModernJapanese Literature and Culture at theUniversity of Maryland, College Park. Herresearch and teaching interests include modernJapanese literature and history, colonial andpostcolonial studies, feminist theory, andmasculinity studies. She also continues herengaged study of the history of the atomicbombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, nuclearstudies, and peace and nuclear abolitionmovements. Mason co-produced the shortdocumentary film entitled Witness to Hiroshima(2008). Link

Recommended citation: Michele Mason,"Writing Hiroshima and Nagasaki in the 21stCentury: A New Generation of HistoricalManga," The Asia-Pacific Journal, 47-5-09,November 23, 2009. 世紀において広島・長崎を書くーー新世代の歴史マンガ

Acknowledgments

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I am grateful to Yuki Tanaka and MatthewPenney for their invaluable comments. To KōnoFumiyo and Nishioka Yuki I owe a great debtfor writing these two important manga and fora l lowing me to repr in t images . Theencouragement and suggestions I receivedfrom Masayuki Shinohara, Mariana Landa,Angela Yiu, Laura Hein and participants at theRevisiting Postwar Japan Conference (May2009, Sophia University) are greatlyappreciated. As always, a very special thankyou to Leslie Winston for her witty and neverwaning support.

Notes

1 Tessa Morris-Suzkui, The Past Within Us:Media, Memory, History (London: Verso, 2005),177.2 The two stories were originally publishedseparately in the youth-oriented weekly serialWeekly Manga Action in 2003 and 2004, anddebuted as a single volume in 2004. Theresponse to Kōno’s work has been impressive.A radio drama version was produced in 2006,and both Sasabe Kiyoshi’s live-action film andKunii Kei’s novel adaptation came out in 2007.The Japan Media Arts Festival awarded Town ofEvening Calm, Country of Cherry Blossoms theGrand Prize for manga in 2004, and it receivedthe Tezuka Osamu Cultural Prize CreativeAward in 2005. Both the film and actor whoplayed Hirano Minami, Aso Kumiko, garneredcritical acclaim and numerous awards. It hasbeen released on DVD and a soundtrack isavailable. Last Gasp published the comic inEnglish, and it has been translated into Korean,Chinese and French as well. Kōno Fumiyo,Yūnagi no machi sakura no kuni (Tokyo:Futabasha, 2004). Quotes herein are from theEnglish translation by Naoko Amemiya andAndy Nakatani. Town of Evening Calm, Countryof Cherry Blossoms (San Francisco: Last Gasp,2006).3 Nishioka Yuka, Natsu no zanzō (Tokyo:

Gaifūsha, 2008). Gaifūsha produces books thataddress a wide range of political, economic,and social justice issues. All translations of thiswork are my own.4 The contested and complicated use of theword hibakusha is rightly receiving moreattention recently. In this paper, however, I usethe term interchangeably with the Englishtranslation “survivor.” For more information onthis subject, see Takemine Seiichirō’s“‘Hibakusha’ toiu kotoba ga motsu seigisei”[The Political Aspects of the Word Hibakusha],Ritsumeikan heiwakenkyū, No. 9, (March2008): 21-30.5 John Whittier Treat, Writing Ground Zero:Japanese Literature and the Atomic Bomb(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995),27.6 There is plenty of evidence, unfortunately, toconfirm this fear in the case of images. TessaMorris-Suzuki offers one example in The PastWithin Us. After Nakazawa Kenji’s BarefootGen began serialization in Shōnen Jump in1972, serious criticism was aimed at his visualsfor being too graphic and disturbing. “Inresponse, Nakazawa admits, he was forced toexclude from his testimony some of the darkestimages engraved on his memory.” Later hecommented, “When I reread my own work, myflesh crawled with loathing. I fell into a state ofthinking ‘how could I have done it so badly?’And this was so painful that I could not bear it.I immediately hid the magazines in which mywork was serialized in a drawer. The plot ofGen kept running through my head, but I hadspent half a year trying to alter my mood bywriting entertainment comics (Nakazawa 1994,215).” Morris-Suzuki, The Past Within Us,162-63.7 Treat, Writing Ground Zero, 26.8 Ibid., 27.9 Ibid., 26.10 Anna Richardson, “The Ethical Limitations ofHolocaust Literary Representation,” eSharpNo. 5 (2005): 1-19.11 Richardson, “The Ethical Limitations ofHolocaust Literary Representation,” 7.

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12 I am thinking here of, for example, the 2008discovery that the best-selling work Misha: AMemoire of the Holocaust Years wascompletely fictionalized and written by aBelgium woman who was not Jewish, thescandal of Herman Rosenblat’s authorialliberties in Angel at the Fence, and thescholarship over the last decade on fake slaverynarratives (written by white abolitionists) and“autobiographies” about if not by people of thefirst nations (e.g. Asa Carter’s The Education ofLittle Tree). One excellent example of thisscholarship is Laura Browder’s SlipperyCharacters: Ethnic Impersonators andAmerican Identity (Chapel Hill: University ofNorth Carolina, 2000). Richardson’s articletreats Binjamin Wilkomirski’s Fragments(1995), which was marketed as a “memoir” and“personal testimony.” A controversy over itscategorization erupted when it was revealedthat the author, whose real name is BrunoDösseker, was a non-Jewish Swiss national. Ithas not been reprinted since 1999.13 Richardson, “The Ethical Limitations ofHolocaust Literary Representation,” 9.14 Ibid., 5-6.15 Ibid., 7.16 Art Spiegelman, Maus: A Survivor’s Tale II:And Here My Troubles Began (New York:Pantheon Books, 1991), 46.17 Sara Horowitz, “Auto/Biography and Fictionafter Auschwitz: Probing the Boundaries ofSecond-Generation Aesthetics,” in BreakingCrystal: Writing and Memory after Auschwitz,Ed. Efraim Sicher (Urbana: University ofIllinois Press, 1998), 278.18 Horowitz, “Auto/Biography and Fiction afterAuschwitz: Probing the Boundaries of Second-Generation Aesthetics,” 277.19 For excellent translations and commentaryon the work of the first three writers seeRichard H. Minear, Hiroshima: ThreeWitnesses (Princeton: Princeton UniversityPress, 1990). John Bestor’s wonderfultranslation of Ibuse’s Black Rain (Tokyo:Kodansha International, 1988) stands the testof time. Another important resource for short

stories by both survivors and non-survivors isthe anthology edited by Ōe Kenzaburō TheCrazy Iris and Other Stories of the AtomicAftermath (New York: Grove Press, 1994).20 Stephen C. Feinstein, “Mediums of Memory:Artistic Responses of the Second Generation,”in Breaking Crystal: Writing and Memory afterAuschwitz, Ed. Efraim Sicher (Urbana:University of Illinois Press, 1998), 201.21 I use the term “manga memoir,” cautiously,realizing the contentious issues surroundingthe definition of such a reference. It brings tomind an interview (conducted by StanleyCrouch) on the Charlie Rose Show (July 30,1996), wherein Art Spiegelman asserts, “I kindof like living in the space between categories”when he explains that he wrote the New YorkTimes to complain that his Pulitzer Prize-winning graphic novel, Maus, had been listedas “fiction” on the bestseller list. He adds thathe would “have done so no matter which side ofthe list it had appeared on.” (link)22 Subsequent anime and live-action filmadaptations and the completion of the fullEnglish translation attest to Barefoot Gen’swide reach and long lasting popularity. YamadaTengo directed three live-action adaptations,which came out between 1976 and 1980.Barefoot Gen (1983) and Barefoot Gen 2 (1987)were both created by Mori Masaki. The Englishtranslation of Volume 10 of the manga BarefootGen was released November 2009.2 3 For more details see the interview ofNakazawa Keiji in Japan Focus. NakazawaKeiji, “Barefoot Gen/The Atomic Bomb and I:The Hiroshima Legacy.” (link)24 Kōno, Town of Evening Calm, Country ofCherry Blossoms, 103.25 Ibid.,103.26 Ibid.,104.27 Ibid.,102.28 Nishioka, Natsu no zanzō, 133.29 Ibid., 133.30 Nishioka writes, “Thinking I would engravethis day on my heart, I gave my protagonist thename ‘Kana’” (133). Michael Rothberg’sexcellent new work, entitled Multidirectional

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Memory: Remembering the Holocaust in theAge of Decolonization, speaks to how collectivememory emerges out of a dynamic process thatis frequently inspired and shaped by seeminglyunrelated events in time and place. One of themost important interventions of this book liesin Rothberg’s notion of “multidirectionalmemory,” which he characterizes as “subject toongoing negotiation, cross-referencing, andborrowing; as productive and not privative” (3).Thus, in the same way that the Algerian Warconstituted a cite of “transfer,” whichstimulated articulations of memories of theHolocaust, the production of A Summer’sAfterimage can be attributed in part toNishioka’s association of the bombing of Qanaawith that of Nagasaki. See Michael Rothberg,Multidirectional Memory: Remembering theHolocaust in the Age of Decolonization(Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2009).31 Ibid., 137.32 In 1960, approximately 900 households werelocated along a strip of land running along theHon River. In 1968, a development plan wasproposed, everyone evicted, and over a span often years the land redeveloped. Today, inaddition to an apartment complex, there existsa municipal art museum, youth center,swimming pool, and several libraries where the“atomic slum” used to be.33 For instance, Fujimi Hirano expressesdisappointed when her son Asahi, who was inMito at the time of the atomic bombing inHiroshima, decides to marry a hibakusha. Inthe contemporary story, Nagio tells the womanhe has been dating, Toko, that her parents haveinstructed him to never see her again becausehe is a second-generation survivor with ahistory of health problems.34 The many writings of Hayashi Kyoko, asurvivor of Nagasaki, stand out as particularlyimportant contributions to the genre of AtomicBomb Literature. Numerous works by Hayashihave been awarded prestigious literary prizes,such as “Procession on a Cloudy Day”(Kumoribi no Kōshin, 1967, trans. KashiwagiHirosuke, 1993) and Ritual of Death (Matsuri

no ba, 1975, trans. Kyoko Selden, 1984).Readers can also find English translations ofher short stories “Empty Can” (Akikan, 1978,trans. Margaret Mitsutani, 1985) and “Masks ofWhatchamacal l i t : A Nagasaki Ta le”(Nanjamonoja no men, 1968, trans. KyokoSelden, 2005). (For the latter work see thislink.) Another widely available work in Englishis Dr. Nagai Takashi’s The Bells of Nagasaki(Nagasaki no kane, 1949, trans. WilliamJohnston, 1984), which can help fill in thisoverlooked history.35 This strategy of casting both characters andreaders as the audience of oral testimoniesrecalls Spiegelman’s ever-present taperecorder in Maus.36 Kōno, Town of Evening Calm, Country ofCherry Blossoms, 93-95.37 See Hayashi Kyōko’s poignant novella “FromTrinity to Trinity” (Toriniti kara toriniti e,2000), which describes her 1999 visit to LosAlamos, New Mexico and, specifically, theTrinity site where the U.S. tested the firstatomic bomb. (link)38 Other historical novels make explicit linksbetween the past and present, especially thosethat seek to “revise” the historical record inorder to place it within the “proper” light of thetimes. Manga: Hating the Korean Wave andJapanese and the Emperor, although from theopposite ends of the political spectrum, can beconsidered in this light. Both employ “strawman” devices to present their arguments,building their storylines around contemporarycollege students discovering the “truth” aboutthe past. In the former, this is facilitatedthrough a debate with Zainichi and Koreanexchange students who lose to the “superior”neo-nationalist narrative. In the latter,conservative, authoritarian school officials whoattempt to punish a student for not singing thenational anthem are shot down and shamed byan older supervisor who uses his personalexperience during the war to bolster hisauthority to speak and teach everyone a lesson.For more on the former work see RumiSakamoto and Matthew Allen’s “’Hating “The

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Korean Wave’” Comic Books: A Sign of NewNationalism in Japan?” (link).39 Kōno, Town of Evening Calm, Country ofCherry Blossoms, 34.40 Treat, Writing Ground Zero, 55.41 Ibid., 55.42 Richardson, “The Ethical Limitations ofHolocaust Literary Representation,” 7.43 Lisa Yoneyama, Hiroshima Traces: Time,Space, and the Dialectics of Memory (Berkeley:University of California Press, 1999), 135-6.44 Nishioka, Natsu no zanzō, 134.45 Ibid., 135.46 These lines come from the poem entitled

“One Note for the Creators of Atomic Bombs”whose original first lines read “Creators ofatomic bombs! For a short while, lay yourhands down and close your eyes!”47 Kōno, Town of Evening Calm, Country ofCherry Blossoms, 33.48 Jason Thompson, "Town of Evening Calm,Country of Cherry Blossoms" in Otaku USA(October 30, 2007).49 Jason Thompson, Manga: The CompleteGuide (New York: Del Rey, 2007), 371.50 Feinstein, “Mediums of Memory: ArtisticResponses of the Second Generation,” 204.51 Feinstein, “Mediums of Memory: ArtisticResponses of the Second Generation,” 202.