戸塚祥太 の ジョーダンバットが鳴っている No. 6 [ダ・ヴィンチ 2014.04]
As always, a few notes from me: I've really been enjoying Tottsu's series. I feel like I'm learning a lot about contemporary Japanese literature as well as about Tottsu himself. I wrote a little about this the other day but I know I'm not doing justice to Tottsu's essays. I'm still a beginner at translation and you could say I'm still learning how to properly stand in my spinning pipe without toppling over. (Call back to essay No. 4!) But I'm trying my best to capture his wordy, wordy style of writing.
I get the feeling that Tottsu, like myself, is an autodidact and learned to write by reading. So I try to keep some of the formal vocabulary in there to give you the same experience as a Japanese reader would have (i.e. What does that kanji mean? *looks it up* Oh, just a fancy word for "listen.")
And… I think I said this last time but the English translation out there of ゴールデンスランバー is horrible. I actually cross-checked the passage printed in Da Vinci against the "official" English version and it was just so sloppy!! I'm all for "looser" translations but you need to keep the meaning the same. Anyways, I did the best I could… it's not amazing but you'll get the picture.
(Originally posted April 12, 2014. For educational use only; please forgive any mistakes.)
JORDAN’S BAT IS RUMBLING
ジョーダンバットが鳴っている
by
Totsuka Shota
No. 6: On Isaka Kotaro (Conclusion)
Very personal essays from Totsuka Shota of Johnny’s acrobatic unit A.B.C-Z. While reflecting on events this book-lover searches for “links” in the books he’s read.
[Summary of the previous essay] I understood the pleasure of reading when I discovered the novel called Gravity’s Clowns (重力ピエロ). Shortly after that, I saw the movie Duck and Canard’s Coin Locker (アヒルと鴨のコインロッカー) and I realized that the person who wrote the book it was based on was the same person who wrote Gravity’s Clowns: Isaka Kotaro. This felt like a connection to me and upon reading my second book of his, Golden Slumber, that intuition verged on conviction and suddenly, every day, I was reading deeply from Isaka-san’s body of work. The discoveries and courage within every book moved me and, before I knew it, I came to admire Isaka Kotaro. On June 22, 2010, there was a big surprise waiting for me when I went into a studio for a magazine piece. An editor who knew me by sight called out to me and handed me a bag “from Isaka-san.” Inside it was a copy of his new publication, Bye-Bye Blackbird, a story with which I came to learn that I had an indirect connection. I understood the particulars after reading the enclosed letter. I couldn’t take in the miraculous state-of-events. Afterwards, I was also granted a phone conversation with Isaka-san. I went full throttle into fan mode but, regardless, it surpassed nirvana. Receiving such things, I was unsure of myself and couldn’t write the thank you letter I needed. And the miraculous second encounter granted to the shameful me by God?
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On May 1, 2013, A.B.C-Z’s first live tour came to Sendai. I was on the Tohoku Shinkansen listening to the Beatles “Golden Slumbers.”
“Totsuka, Isn’t it great?! Isaka-san is coming to the Sendai concert,” said our manager about one month earlier. It was the kind of good news that ranks as a major life event. At the same time that I had been able to publish a message in this magazine on the release of Bye-Bye Blackbird in paperback, our manager and the editor had invited Isaka-san to the A.B.C-Z concert. When I heard about the invitation, I wondered if an extremely busy, popular author would really end up coming to an idol concert. The moment I heard that he was, in actual fact, coming, I was unreasonably happy with every fiber of my being. Until then, I’d only received enjoyment from him as an author without giving anything in return. And I had yet to thank him for the present from three years earlier. How happy would I be if I could only give him a good time at the concert?
But when I’d cooled down and thought about it, I started to worry that he wouldn’t really have fun. Not only does Isaka-san probably not know our songs but he likes rock music. And the audience will be overflowing with women. He’d be a lone man standing in the middle of all that. If I was put in that position, I honestly wouldn’t know how to behave. I was full of gratitude that Isaka-san would say, “I’ll attend,” even being aware of all of this. Wanting to express my gratitude, I thought up a Tottsu-esque surprise.
This concert was to take place at Sendai’s Sun Plaza Hall, where we had also performed ABCZa in 2012. We’d been feeling tense visiting the locality for the first time as the stars of a play but, happily, the entire assembly hall was packed and we gratefully put on a show for a full house. I strongly felt the fans support for us above everything else and, at that time, to express my thanks, I used Isaka-san’s last dialogue from Modern Times, changing one part: “Do I have courage? The fans are keeping it for me so I’ll never lose it.”*
There were a lot of words I wanted to shout this time. But was that all I could do… This what I was thinking when I struck upon the idea of playing guitar and singing the Beatles’s “Golden Slumbers,” which is used all through the book Golden Slumber. The film Golden Slumber was filmed all on location in Sendai and it used a cover version of the song by Saito Kazuyoshi, so a lot of people should know the song. Having decided to take on the challenge of performing it one time for my solo corner, I listened to it over and over again on repeat on the shinkansen.
Arriving at the hall, we checked our blocking on stage and did soundcheck. That simple rehearsal over, we returned to the green room about an hour and a half before showtime. I’d finally eaten and was sitting on the sofa, innocently plucking away at my guitar, when our manager called me.
“Totsuka, Isaka-san is here. Go and greet him.”
“O… okay.”
It’d be nice if I could meet him someday, wouldn’t it? My hazy wish to come face-to-face with Isaka-san had been granted. I stopped in front of the door to the waiting room and took a deep breath. On the other side of this boundary was Isaka Kotaro. My nervousness was at an all time high when I gathered my courage and knocked.
“How do you do, I’m Totsuka,” is how I greeted him. Isaka-san stood up from his seat, grabbed my hand in a firm handshake and said, “Hi, I’m Isaka.” What emotions I felt!
“Please sit down,” said our manager. Isaka-san sat down and I took a seat facing him. I met his eyes! In some way or another, I’ll hold onto the memory of this feeling until I die. “Thank you so much for the surprise three years ago. I was really astonished and really happy. I wanted to write you a letter in reply back then but I couldn’t get anything out. I’m really sorry,” I apologized.
“Don’t worry about it. You’re quite busy, I’m sure; it’s okay.”
Isaka-san graciously granted me reprieve. It had been like this during our telephone conversation three years before. I was at a loss for which way the conversation should proceed after the introductions. But on the spur of the moment something came to me this time, too. I launched into a quiz of sorts, with odd questions.
“What’s your favorite food?”
If I suddenly inquired about his books, it would turn into a work mood and since I didn’t want to tire Isaka-san, in the end, this was my way of fussing over him (excuse!). But even with me jumping the conversational gun, Isaka-san answered with good humor.
“When I was on the shinkansen, I bought some beef tongue jerky. It’s delicious. I brought some with me. Please, have some.”
As he said that, he handed the Sendai-made beef tongue jerky over to me. He had brought enough for all five A.B.C-Z members.
“Thank you so much! It looks delicious!”
As soon as I had accepted it, the few minutes of our time together passed happily and I enjoyed the visit to the utmost. Noticing how Isaka-san was nimbly keeping the conversation flowing, it endeared him to me that much more. But the anecdote is still interesting, to the extent that I think I should master this art of conversation by observation. Having regained my composure, my feelings towards Isaka’s works grew even stronger than usual and came spewing out of my mouth.
“When I wanted to get my driver’s license and started going to a training course, Gasoline Life was published; it felt like I had a connection with Isaka-san. There were dozens of training cars, each with their own personalities, and once I started imagining that maybe they talk with voices that humans can’t hear, I began to have fun at the course. That I graduated without incident is thanks to Isaka-san’s power.”
I shared my thoughts on other books like Modern Times and Gravity’s Clowns and the scenes and lines that were etched on my heart. Isaka-san kindly discussed the meaning with me, mixing humor with his simple words. I was so happy with the time we spent together that even when our manager pressed on me that showtime was fast approaching, I couldn’t bring myself to close up the conversation. But, soon enough, we hit the time limit. After those 30 minutes spent like I was in a dream, it was my turn to give happiness to our audience.
“Isaka-san, today was rushed but thank you so much for coming. I’m going to put my whole spirit into the performance and I’d be really happy if you have fun. Okay, I’m off!” And with a bow to Isaka-san, I headed to the stage.
The concert was moving along swimingly and I was all fired up, abandoning myself to the moment. We were knocking out the program one-by-one when a good idea came to me. There was a way to show my feelings about the warm reception we’d received. I had a corner in each show where I’d eat speciality foods from each locality and so catering had prepared sasa-kamaboko for me to eat. But it occurred to me that I could use the beef tongue jerky that Isaka-san had given to me earlier. I thought it might be rude to eat food on stage that had just been given to me as a gift but using something I’d received from Isaka-san was appropriate for a corner I was in charge of. It made me happy to think that Isaka-kan would get to see me enjoying his gift. And so I asked the staff to bring the beef tongue jerky from the dressing room. “Isaka-san, Thank you! It was delicious!” were the words I firmly held back while savoring it.
Then, soon enough, my solo corner. In the middle of the darkened hall, as I began to quietly sing “Golden Slumbers,” I felt as if I had been dropped into one of Isaka-san’s works. And in the middle of all the fans in the audience was Isaka Kotaro-san. I was full to bursting with feelings. After the concert ended, I couldn’t contain the emotions welling up and the only thing I remember is shouting, “Aoyagi Masaharu!” [NOTE: The main character of Golden Slumber.]
In Golden Slumber, how many times does this line appear: “Mankind’s biggest weapons are faith and habit.” But Golden Slumber showed me personally because it was the novel that gave me faith in my decision to meet Isaka-san head on and it was the work that was the impetus for me to pick up the habit of reading. Even now, I’m drawn towards it. You could most likely say that writing this continuing series of essays is tied to the book.
And “faith and habit” are the perfect words for us, A.B.C-Z, who put on acrobatic performances as a matter of course. Entrusting my body to the unity of the group, if I didn’t have faith in every member, we couldn’t perform the grand feats that combine every member’s strength. We’d make mistakes and get injured. And I think habit is something that’s become blended into our very bodies.
This should be the extent of my commemoration of the Sendai performance that Isaka-san graciously attended. But there’s one last thing I want to say--more like a pronouncement I want to shout--a line from the chapter “You can even fly for eight minutes” from the book All that Remains is the Vacation [Nokori zenbu bakeshion; 残り全部バケーション]. This is a world in which you can’t accomplish anything if you don’t have the desire inside yourself. If you give your all, you can leap, but only if you aren’t tied down. The five of us held a ticket for “debut.” All the fans, Isaka-san, please watch us.
The five of us, we’re going to leap.
* “You, do you have courage?”
“My girlfriend is keeping it for me, so I’ll never lose it.”
[NOTE: The above note with the asterisk was in the original text.
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This month’s linked book:
Golden Slumber by Isaka Kotaro
It’s the day of Prime Minister Kaneda’s victory parade in his hometown of Sendai. Aoyagi Masaharu gets called out by Morita Shingo, a friend and former schoolmate. “It’ll be done like Oswald, an assassination in the middle of Kaneda’s parade. At any rate, if you run for it, you’ll live for a while.” And just like Morita said, the prime minister is killed in a bombing. Immediately afterwards, Kaneda begins to be hunted as the suspect. Angry, made out to be a criminal, on the fringes of society, he steadily makes progress. Trapped in a vast, unidentified conspiracy, Aoyagi’s lonely flight continues. Driven into a corner, he’s reaching for a lifeline.
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“Youthful indiscretions, man.” Morita Shingo broke off a piece of french fry and bit into it.
“Hasn’t changed, huh, the way you eat,” pointed out his dining partner.
“Nope.” But Morita continued. “Do you know what mankind’s greatest weapons are?”
Aoyagi Masaharu sighed as he bit into his hamburger; he’d heard this before.
“Faith and habit.”
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Totsuka says:
One of the things I particularly like about Golden Slumber is that although the protagonist, Aoyagi Masaharu, leaves a strong impression, each supporting character also gets highlighted in the story. If I become a creator, I want to aim for that kind of balance.
Watching the Sendai concert footage, I get embarrassed seeing myself shout out “Aoyagi Masaharu” after singing “Golden Slumbers.” I’m glad I had the courage to say it because the plain, simple fact of my happiness was written all over my face. That the emotion of “like” has the power to move human beings is something I feel from the bottom of my heart.