SHAME, SEPPUKU, AND JAMES BOND

GOMEN

And now for a scandal that has rocked the world of Japanese pop music.  Recently a member of girls group AKB48 named Minami Minegishi was found to have a boyfriend, in direct violation of her contract.  To make matters worse, she was caught embarking on a  walk of shame from her boyfriend's apartment early one morning.  Hours later, she did what any penitent person in the public eye would do: she shaved her head and issued an apology on YouTube.  She shaved.  Her head.  

Minami's coiffure in better days.  From www.news.com.au

She's really, really sorry.  From abc.go.com

This may seem old hat to some who remember a similar stunt performed by Britney Spears a few years back.  What sets Minegishi apart, however, is that her new 'do is not an act of rebellion, but rather of abject shame.  Which just goes to show that Japanese guilt surpasses any other kind, whether white, Jewish, or Catholic.  Sure, the Catholics have hair shirts and self-flagellation, but those pale in comparison to practices like seppuku, a form of ritual suicide popular in the days of the samurai.  Perhaps the most famous tale of seppuku is that of the 47 ronin from the early 18th century.  Ronin are samurai who have lost their masters, and by some interpretations of bushido (the samurai code of conduct), the death of a master was reason enough for a samurai to commit seppuku.  However, the 47 ronin are infamous for having avenged the death of their master, and then committed seppuku as punishment.  Their actions came at a time when the chivalrous values of the samurai were perceived as disappearing, and so a mass demonstration of faithfulness to bushido garnered a great deal of notoriety and respect, with the burial place of the 47 ronin becoming an almost sacred site.  Today the legend lives on, and this year "47 Ronin," a movie starring Keanu Reeves, will be released.  Because clearly there is no greater way to honor these fallen heroes, these mythical figures, than by having one of them portrayed by the enigmatic Keanu Reeves.   

From keanulover.wordpress.com

In modern times, seppuku has become mostly a thing of the past.  However, there are still instances of seppuku being employed as a form of political protest, most recently in 1970 against the Japanese government.  A businessman also committed seppuku in protest of a corporate restructuring in 1999.  These incidents are sad, not to mention scarring, even in an age where violent media abound.  However, it's clear that in Japan, a simple apology for transgressions will not suffice the way it might in the western world.  There must be atonement and sacrifice, whether it's forfeiting your own life, or being humbled by a buzz cut, like Minegishi.  

Minegishi has been relegated to the position of "trainee," allowing her to sing and dance another day for AKB48.  Which left me with the big question: what, if anything, happened to her boyfriend?  Minegishi's sweetie, boy band member Alan Shirahama, is still with his group, Generations.  Interestingly, though he has received no official slap on the wrist from his agency (who said his private life was his business), he's endured a lot of flack from Japanese fans, who were distressed that he didn't show more concern for his girlfriend's plight.  This article from The Atlantic highlights the disparity between genders in Japan, saying: 

Minegishi's apology and the idol culture that allowed it to happen are reflections of a Japan shifting more and more to the right, with gender issues especially changing. As people buzzed about this drama over the weekend, Americans focused on their own big musical happening Sunday night. Beyoncé performed during the Super Bowl halftime show, and at one of the country's most traditionally macho events, she wowed with all-women backup and her own charisma and talent, putting on a great show. Japan has had performers like that in the past—pop stars like Ayumi Hamasaki and Koda Kumi, who were fiercely independent and inspiring. But today they lack that. Instead, their pop stars are corralled by the backwards demands of their conservative fans. 

This is particularly interesting when you consider that the most highly regarded western music idols in Japan are women like Rihanna, Lady Gaga, Avril Lavigne and Beyoncé.  None of these women have allowed themselves to be dictated to by their fans, whether in their music or their private lives.  Gaga champions gay rights and wears bizarre costumes; Lavigne earned fame for her angry music and her refusal to look like the nice, sweet girl you'd bring home to Mom or bake cookies with after school.  Rihanna has created the biggest waves lately as she got back together with her ex-boyfriend, Chris Brown, who beat her to a pulp a few years ago.  Back then she was applauded for showing the world what he'd done and ending their relationship, and the fans who supported her in the aftermath are outraged that she's gone back to him.  Their disapproval hasn't deterred her one bit, and she's been seen publicly with Brown, most recently at The Grammys.  This proverbial airing of dirty laundry is almost unheard of in Japan, probably because celebrities stand to lose too much by breaking the rules.  Unlike in the west where scandal can heighten fame and spur someone's career (Kim Kardashian and her sex tape, anyone?), in Japan it can kill it.  And when the transgression is something as relatively tame as having a secret relationship with another consenting adult, ruination seems like a high price to pay. 

GHOST ISLAND

The latest installment in the James Bond franchise, Skyfall, features a scene where Bond is lured to an abandoned island to face his nemesis for the film, played by Javier Bardem.  The location was inspired by Hashima Island, also known as "Battleship Island."  During the industrialization of Japan, the Mitsubishi Corporation bought the island and began digging for coal.  As the endeavor grew, the corporation set up what amounted to a civilization separate from the mainland, with huge concrete apartment buildings, temples, graveyards, markets, schools, etc.  At one point, 5,000 people were living on the island.  That is, until the coal ran out in 1974 and Mitsubishi shut down production.  Workers were told that a limited number of them could find new jobs with the corporation back on the mainland, but they were to be distributed on a first come, first served basis.  Thus, thousands of families scrambled to get off the island as quickly as possible, not bothering to pack their belongings, move their furniture, etc.  The island has been left mostly as it was when people lived there in the 70s, lending an eerie quality to its decay, and prompting the new name "Ghost Island."

This documentary from 2002, though perhaps not award-winning, provides a glimpse into how Hashima Island looks today, and a little about its history.