Japan Anthology Workshop Series. London; New York: Routledge, 2013. xviii, 240 pp. (Figures, tables, B&W photos.) US$155.00, cloth. ISBN 978-0-415-63190-7.
Death has a bad rep. No one likes it, yet it comes to us all. Books on death are, therefore, generally gloomy and depressing, making us further abhor dying. Although Death and Dying in Contemporary Japan is not a particularly cheerful book, it is not only about death but also about the authentic cultural traditions and cosmology of Japan that are intricately related to this subject. Based mostly on ethnographic case studies, the research presented in each chapter stimulates enough of our intellectual curiosity that the grim subject seems to lose its sting. In the end, one feels not depressed but enlightened.
In past centuries, Japan experienced dramatic shifts in demography (e.g., lower birth rate, higher life expectancy, decrease and delay of marriage), economy (e.g., unprecedented prosperity after WWII and the economic bubble/bust), politics (e.g., feudal system to imperialism to the current democracy/capitalism), and social/environmental (e.g., near environmental-collapse and dissolving of traditional family/community cohesiveness). As a result, according to editor Hikaru Suzuki, death-related ideologies and practices also went through a series of transformations, and this book attempts to answer why and how these changes occurred.
The book consists of three sections: meaning of life and dying in contemporary Japan, professionalization of funerals, and new burial practices in Japan. The first section focuses on the concept of ikigai (“that which makes one’s life worth living”). Mathews claims that ikigai is achieved through either individual self-realization or contribution to a collective whole. This is a refreshing perspective on Erik Erikson’s classic theory: we become who we are through a contribution to a collective whole by leaving a legacy (generativity vs. stagnation in middle adulthood) or individual self-realization by accepting one’s life as is (ego-integrity vs. despair in late adulthood). Interestingly, after her husband’s death Joan E. Erikson decided to add another dimension: gerotranscendence, characterized as moving away from the rational and interpersonal to a more cosmic and spiritual focus during the final stage of life. How might ikigai be manifested in relation to gerotranscendence? Long suggests that a person may find ikigai (or maybe we should say shinigai) by choosing a meaningful place to die. A place of death is not, after all, “merely empty space,” but filled with symbolic meanings of and for the dying person that transcend the rational and interpersonal.
Kurotani’s chapter adds another layer to the discussion of ikigai by introducing a broadly defined Durkheimean interpretation of sarariiman (middle-class white-collar men) suicide in the 1990s. She argues that its prevalence was intertwined with a loss of self-identity in contemporary Japan where the once tight-knit community/company and collective moral framework had been replaced by fragmented formal networks and urban, individualized values. Without the traditional social network and strong spiritual beliefs, many boomers chose the ultimate path of taking control of their own death via suicide.
The second part of the book explores the transformation of funeral ceremonies and surrounding professions. Tanaka’s ethnographic study of a funeral home in Tokyo illustrates professionals’ day-to-day activities ranging from savvy marketing to handling a decomposing body. The success of this industry eventually replaced conventional community-centred funerals with “McFunerals,” a mass-produced, efficient, industry-centred funeral system. However, a new trend is emerging which focuses less on efficiency and more on the dying individuals. The new types of funeral ceremonies and burial styles are regarded as an expression of the self (“jibun rashiku”) without strict constraints of religious, ideological or societal obligations. H. Suzuki illustrates “funeral-while-alive” in which a deceased-to-be creates a mock death and celebrates his/her life with people who will remember him/her, thus creating a sense of immortality. Although these ceremonies are not widespread, Inoue (chapter 6) claims many people prefer these non-traditional ceremonies and burials which give the deceased-to-be more control and a sense of belonging.
The last part of the book expands on the previous section, elaborating on changes in mortuary and burial practice. I. Suzuki explores a new form of relationship between the deceased and the bereaved through an in-depth investigation of changing attitudes toward the Buddhist altar and display of the photographs of the deceased at home. Kawano describes a group from the “War Generation” (senchūha) who chose to have their ashes scattered in lieu of a conventional Buddhist burial. These individuals feel that their lives have already been blessed and that having a proper Buddhist burial for themselves would be inappropriate and unfair to their cohort who perished in the war. Boret also reports on the phenomenon of Tree-Burial, which has been gaining popularity since the 1990s. In addition to the sense of survivor guilt, he maintains that the Japanese affinity to nature, partially rooted in traditional Shintoism, plays a significant role in the desire to place cremated remains in a secluded mountain spot and plant a tree above it.
Finally, Hood’s historical investigation of the 1985 crash of JAL 123 into a remote mountain cliff describes a unique memorialization process. A huge facility with stairs and a parking lot was built for the bereaved (izoku), not at the crash site, but at a more “convenient” nearby location. Hood claims this shows that Japanese ways of memorialization are not so much about religion, but cultural practices which are often amenable to pragmatic needs.
Some may argue that the publication of a book focusing on death and dying in Japan is not appropriate now, because it has been only two years since the 3/11 Great East Japan Earthquake Disaster, an unprecedented tragedy with more than 15,000 deaths and many more still missing. Yet, it is also the 3/11 tragedy that has ignited a discussion on a topic that has been marginalized in both secular and spiritual dialogue. Along with H. Suzuki, I believe that it is extremely poignant and sensitively important to bring up this subject, now. With rapid changes in many aspects of our lives, it is enlightening to see that the society as a whole is eager at last to undertake a definition of what constitutes a “good death” in contemporary Japan.
Masami Takahashi
Northeastern Illinois University, Chicago, USA
pp. 602-604