In the Eye of the Beholder
 

An essay on

March Was Made of Yarn:
Writers Respond to Japan's Earthquake and Tsunami

Alexandra Krusinski, Bryn Mawr College, Class of 2016

March 11, 2011 marked the devastating beginning of the Fukushima disaster in Japan, most commonly referred today as 3.11. The record breaking Tohoku earthquake, with a magnitude of 9.0, stretched over forty-three miles east of the Oshika Peninsula of Tohoku. Soon after, a massive tsunami, reaching inland almost six miles, caused a nuclear meltdown. With 15,883 dead, 6,146 injured, and 2,654 missing such destruction is beyond conceivable in one's wildest imagination (Karashima, 2012, p.XVII). A year following the incident, writer/editor Elmer Luke and novelist/translator David Karashima joined together a collaboration of literary works including fiction, nonfiction, poetry and manga to create "an artistic record of perspectives near and distant" (Karashima, 2012, p.XVIII). The fruit of their collection, March Was Made of Yarn, brings together Japanese and English works including pieces by Mieko Kawakami and Barry Yougrau. Such a diverse collection incorporates different viewpoints, perspectives, and experiences from multiple personal accounts which emotionally appeal to a broad audience, specifically to those who may not have been directly affected by the 3.11 disasters.

Many of the works included within March Was Made of Yarn have no definitive beginning nor ending. Most in fact begin and end quite abruptly, leaving the reader "hanging". Hiromi Kawakami rewrites her well-known story God Bless You to incorporate the effects of a nuclear accident similar to Fukushima. She keeps to the original storyline of a wilderness hike experienced between a man and a bear adding minor details to place the story in a post-Fukushima context. The revised version included within March Was Made of Yarn had been retitled God Bless You, 2011. Throughout the short story, Kawakami builds up a most compelling relationship between the bear and the man. They walk, talk, and enjoy a nice meal together. However, just as a deep connection between the two characters develops, the story unexpectedly ends. "I tried picturing what the bear god looked like, but it was beyond my imagination. All in all, it had been a pretty good day" (Karashima, 2012, p.53). With such a curt conclusion, the reader is left with many questions, such as who is the bear god? What is the god like? Why was the image of the bear god beyond man's imagination? Or simply, how does the bear possess the ability to talk? Perhaps the character of the bear was actually meant to symbolize the bear god himself. It is possible that Hiromi Kawakami's purpose of God Bless You, 2011 was an attempt to reconnect humanity with nature through the bond between these two unique characters. To show that even after the man-made devastation of Fukushima, nature is still willing to forgive and make amends with humanity as long as we take time to respect the nature around us. This is evident when the bear gives the man his blessing at the conclusion of the story. The bear poses so many questions to the reader mainly because of his incomprehensible humanization and presence throughout the story. The anxiety to discover the identity of the bear and his purpose mirrors the disaster victim's anxieties to make sense of the disaster. Yet these questions are never answered within the story. The author leaves it up to the reader to decipher, and think, for herself.

Similar to Hiromi Kawakami's piece, Mieko Kawakami ends her work March Yarn with a cliffhanger. She writes of a pregnant women who dreams of a world where everything is made of yarn. In the final scene the woman's husband hallucinates about the wife's yarn experience. The hallucinations trouble him so that they haunt his dreams. The story concludes with an ominous ringing of what is described to be the phone. "It kept ringing... .still it rang. I gave up counting and closed my eyes, sure that this time, this time, I would make it all the way down to the bottom" (Karashima, 2012, p.69). The reader is once again left with an unconcluded and unresolved storyline with many questions. Who was on the other line of the phone? Was it indeed the phone that was ringing? Why did the phone ring so many times? What does the narrator mean by "make it down to the bottom"? What and where is the bottom? And what is the narrator counting? We are lead to believe that the symbolic representation of the yarn is the string of life that connects all human beings and nature as one. However what would happen if the yarn were cut? Would the connection between life and nature itself be broken? Like God Bless You, 2011 Mieko Kawakami attempts to reconnect humanity to nature in a tangible art form with the concrete imagery of the yarn. However one cannot help but to ask how durable is this yarn? As the narrator struggles to comprehend the image of the yarn, the reader struggles as well. Additionally we sympathize with the narrator's anxiety at the end of the story as he counts the never ending ringing of the phone. When will it end? This once more mimics the anxiety experienced by disaster victims as to when will the disasters end? When will the pain and suffering end? When will the torment end? Mieko Kawakami provides us with no answers, like Hiromi Kawakami, once more leaving the plot unresolved and reader unsatisfied, confused, and full of thought. This idea stands true in most all the short stories included within March Was Made of Yarn such as The Chain, Lulu, The Island of Eternal Life, Grandma's Bible, and much more.However the two stories above serve as the best examples.

It is interesting that it is through this disconnection that one feels connected to the victims of the 3.11 disaster. The positioning, spacing, and narration of each short story is disjointed and incomplete, making it difficult for the reader to follow, even more so to find meaning within each text. However, this I believe is purposeful in Luke and Karashima's editorial collaboration. Together, the piecing of these stories depicts the struggle of a people to find meaning after such great tragedy. This struggle for meaning mirrors our own efforts to grasp that which is "incomprehensible" that which we have not experienced. These personal accounts are not supposed to make complete sense. They are meant to pose questions, as the victims of the 3.11 disaster still question life/meaning after the tragedy to this day. The authors do not include an ending to their tails for they do not have one. The characters within all the short stories themselves are in essence still living. Their lives proceed as ours does. Their story is not over, as our story is not over. The victims illustrated throughout these stories are still today learning how to cope and understand the devastating aftermath of 3.11. They are still alive, as we are, thus both futures remain unpredictable. In this way, which the writers so cleverly capture through such intricate literary devices, that as readers we emotionally connect to the frustration of the 3.11 victims. We sympathize with their confusion, relate to their frustration, and hope for a happy ending.

Literary tactics such as those mentioned above, appeal to the individual who has not directly been affected by Japanese disaster. Through the element of creativity rather than scientific entry, March Was Made of Yarn intrigues a global interest. Creative literary prose, such as the "disconnection" to "connection" used by the writers of March Was Made of Yarn, draws the reader in emotionally and holds their attention driving them to seek more information on the subject matter at hand; enticing them to learn more, to read on to the next panel, to visit the exhibition.

Through this collection, Luke and Karashima recapture 3.11 through multiple viewpoints in order to approach disaster on a personal level to those who may not have been directly affected by the earthquake, Tsunami, or Nuclear Meltdown. Raising awareness is the first step, and March Was Made of Yarn does just that by connecting readers personally to the disaster and luring them to learn more. With jarring literary devices, such as cliffhangers, the reader is better able to connect with the frustrations and limitations of the 3.11 Fukushima victims. March Was Made of Yarn is a collective novel worth reading for any interested in experiencing first hand the mental challenges faced post and pre 3.11 disaster.

Works Cited