Thursday, October 10, 2013
Two for the Price of Four
The Japanese word mottainai meaning "it's a shame when you waste something," (Mollman, 2001) was made famous by the late Kenyan Environmentalist, Wangari Maathai, Nobel Peace Prize winner. At first I was sceptical since the meaning of mottainai seemed almost identical to that of the common English word, "wasteful." But upon reflection, it seems to me that Japanese do have a greater sense of waste, or a greater, perhaps animistic sense of involvement with the things that they might otherwise waste. Mollman (2001) argues that mottainai fuels the Japanese obsession with converged electrical gimmicks e.g. where a radio is merged with a dynamo, solar panel and torch, or a television with a radio cassette player, since to do otherwise would be a waste of space.
I think that Japanese people feel a sort of sympathy for things themselves, and reuse paper since to do otherwise would be a very mild form of homicide. This animistic origin to the heightened sense of wastefulness, may explain the emphasis upon recycling rather than reusing in Japan. The Japanese do not believe in reincarnation or heaven but that the soul merges with the gods and is born again as other people. Pieces of paper merge with the pulp and are repressed into other pages.
As previously mentioned the grief of mottainai may also explain the relative absence of BOGOF (Buy One Get One Free) marketing in Japanese stores. It may also be a factor in the pricing in of the batteries in the above photo. This one hundred yen store's products are all 100 yen, and include packs of both 4 AA batteries, and 2 AA batteries at the same price. Admittedly, the 2 pack of batteries carry the name of a Japanese manufacturer (Hitachi), whereas the 4 pack batteries are generic "Premium Cell", but it seems to me unlikely that consumers believe that the Japanese branded batteries last twice as long as their OEM counterparts. I suggest rather than Japanese consumers purchase two batteries when they need to batteries, since to purchase four would feel mottainai. They might not use the other two. They would go to waste.
Bearing this in mind it is surprising that Westerners, even as they roll through their malls on buggies since they can no longer support their own weight, do not feel mottainai when offered a BOGOF deal. Where did our sense of "shame when you waste something" disappear? What is it about the corporeal - things, the body - that does not deserve our respect?
The 'Nacalian' theory provided by this blog provides only part of the answer. It is here argued that while verbal and visual self-representations are essential for the genesis of self, Westerners identify with the former, and Japanese with the latter. Identifying as they do with the visual, they are more sensitive to the destruction of little pieces of 'extensia' - things. But I don't think that this theory goes far enough.
It seems to me that the BOGOF buyer almost has it in for the extras pieces of corporealism that he purchases. There is a potlach of free pizza, puddings and pints of milk, and at time an almost gratuitous disrespect of the body. Take that, pizza, into the bin you go! Take that, body, another pizza for you!
This disrespect is alas I fear mirrored in the Japanese feeling towards narratives, theories and reason. They rise and fall in oblivion's host, items of fashion, soon forgotten, unlike a synthetic face. Hello Kitty is forty years old. Abenomics will be lucky if it is remembered in four years time. No-one reads Shinto mythology and comparatively very Japanese people read (non-comic) books.
There is even a word to decry reason "rikutsu." The closest English translation is perhaps humbug. Rikustu, or the phrase "Rikutsu iu na" (don't say any more humbug) is use to silence those that attempt to be too rational, or wordy than is felt necessary. Words are extraneous, faddish, and abbreviated everywhere from haiku to pasokon and sefure. Indeed, English words are often used on T-shirts, in mottos and names for products, even though or because most Japanese can not understand English. English, and still more so English, allows the Japanese to reduce words to their beloved phenomenon: sounds and above all images.
But this still isn't answering the question. What is it that we logocentrist word-lovers have against corporeality, and what is that corpo-animistic thing-loving Japanese, have against the opposite side?
What is in that word-lovers have against "narcissism" which originates and rotates about a loving self-phenomena? What is it that the Japanese hate about verbal arrogance, or even self-expression, even as they prune themselves so perfectly? I have plausible answer to this, related to my recent post on Pokemon, but I have written too much, to myself. Queasy.
You know you are crazy when you think you are trying to prevent Armageddon with your blog:-)
Mollman, S. (2001). Japanese Design Sense becomes more evident in hight tech products. J@pan Inc Magazine - The J@pan Inc Newsletter, 134. Retrieved from www.japaninc.com/jin134
I think that Japanese people feel a sort of sympathy for things themselves, and reuse paper since to do otherwise would be a very mild form of homicide. This animistic origin to the heightened sense of wastefulness, may explain the emphasis upon recycling rather than reusing in Japan. The Japanese do not believe in reincarnation or heaven but that the soul merges with the gods and is born again as other people. Pieces of paper merge with the pulp and are repressed into other pages.
As previously mentioned the grief of mottainai may also explain the relative absence of BOGOF (Buy One Get One Free) marketing in Japanese stores. It may also be a factor in the pricing in of the batteries in the above photo. This one hundred yen store's products are all 100 yen, and include packs of both 4 AA batteries, and 2 AA batteries at the same price. Admittedly, the 2 pack of batteries carry the name of a Japanese manufacturer (Hitachi), whereas the 4 pack batteries are generic "Premium Cell", but it seems to me unlikely that consumers believe that the Japanese branded batteries last twice as long as their OEM counterparts. I suggest rather than Japanese consumers purchase two batteries when they need to batteries, since to purchase four would feel mottainai. They might not use the other two. They would go to waste.
Bearing this in mind it is surprising that Westerners, even as they roll through their malls on buggies since they can no longer support their own weight, do not feel mottainai when offered a BOGOF deal. Where did our sense of "shame when you waste something" disappear? What is it about the corporeal - things, the body - that does not deserve our respect?
The 'Nacalian' theory provided by this blog provides only part of the answer. It is here argued that while verbal and visual self-representations are essential for the genesis of self, Westerners identify with the former, and Japanese with the latter. Identifying as they do with the visual, they are more sensitive to the destruction of little pieces of 'extensia' - things. But I don't think that this theory goes far enough.
It seems to me that the BOGOF buyer almost has it in for the extras pieces of corporealism that he purchases. There is a potlach of free pizza, puddings and pints of milk, and at time an almost gratuitous disrespect of the body. Take that, pizza, into the bin you go! Take that, body, another pizza for you!
This disrespect is alas I fear mirrored in the Japanese feeling towards narratives, theories and reason. They rise and fall in oblivion's host, items of fashion, soon forgotten, unlike a synthetic face. Hello Kitty is forty years old. Abenomics will be lucky if it is remembered in four years time. No-one reads Shinto mythology and comparatively very Japanese people read (non-comic) books.
There is even a word to decry reason "rikutsu." The closest English translation is perhaps humbug. Rikustu, or the phrase "Rikutsu iu na" (don't say any more humbug) is use to silence those that attempt to be too rational, or wordy than is felt necessary. Words are extraneous, faddish, and abbreviated everywhere from haiku to pasokon and sefure. Indeed, English words are often used on T-shirts, in mottos and names for products, even though or because most Japanese can not understand English. English, and still more so English, allows the Japanese to reduce words to their beloved phenomenon: sounds and above all images.
But this still isn't answering the question. What is it that we logocentrist word-lovers have against corporeality, and what is that corpo-animistic thing-loving Japanese, have against the opposite side?
What is in that word-lovers have against "narcissism" which originates and rotates about a loving self-phenomena? What is it that the Japanese hate about verbal arrogance, or even self-expression, even as they prune themselves so perfectly? I have plausible answer to this, related to my recent post on Pokemon, but I have written too much, to myself. Queasy.
You know you are crazy when you think you are trying to prevent Armageddon with your blog:-)
Mollman, S. (2001). Japanese Design Sense becomes more evident in hight tech products. J@pan Inc Magazine - The J@pan Inc Newsletter, 134. Retrieved from www.japaninc.com/jin134
Labels: japan, japanese culture, Nacalian, アニミズム, 日本文化, 自然
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Savage Thought and Myth in the Structure of Japanese
This post layers Suzuki Takao's layered theory of Japanese, onto Roland Barthes theory of "myth" and Levi-Straus's theorey of "the savage mind."
Levi Strauss argued that "savages" are "bricoleurs" (people that use the tools and materials to hand to get a job done), in that they use things, usually found in the natural world, to categorise and organise their societies.
Thus *savages* in totemistic societies may have "Black Hawk" and "White Hawk" groups, and be called by names like "Sitting Bull." They use species of bird and animal as names for clans, families and individuals, because these things are useful to get the job of social categorisation done, and thus "good to think."
Had Levi-Strauss been more rigorous (I jest) he would have noted that some totemist use mythical and corporeal, artificial signs. There are "Water Flask" and "Dragon" tribes. Concentrating on these man-made signs Levi-Straus' definition of "the savage as bricoleur" starts to become rather vague. If the savage can make up entities (such as dragons) to use as names then how is the savage different from "Levi" named after some ancient Jews Straus? If the savage can use man made objects as names, then why not use patterns, and write his name "LEVI" and be done with it. And if he did, would he still be a savage? The problem with Levi-Strauss for me is that I can't find the place where he compares savages to himself, or where he explains what we are doing, and whether and in what way what they are doing is different. (As far as I am aware, I am a bricoleur too. My name is Timothy, the name of a semi-mythical 'beast' found in the Bible.)
Then Roland Barthes comes to the rescue with his theory of "Mythological" signs. I think that despite the fact Barthes analyses magazine covers and pasta advertisements,he uses the word "Mythologiges" because he is harking back to Levi-Strauss above, and providing a semiotic distinction between us and them, between anthropologist and the mythologist, the scientist and the bricoleur. The distinction of myth, mythological thought, and the savage mind is that it uses signs in combination at a two teired level of "denotation" and "connotation." The briocoleur/mythologists uses second level, connotative signs, that is to say signs in combination that are already signs for other things (see diagram, inset bottom right).
Hence, the black boy and the saluting (a flag) shown on the cover of Paris Match, are in themselves signs. We recognise them and their meanings, of respect, youth, and Africa etc. The cover becomes mythic because it combines these signs to present a new meaning: imperialism is good, all of France's colonial subjects respect the French flag.
Suzuki Takao argues that the Japanese language is appropriate for use as an International Language. I happen to agree. The principle reason he gives is interesting, one that I had not grasped, and relates to the discussion of myth, or savage thought above. Suzuki argues that the advantage of Japanese is in the two-teired way that it is "agglutinative". A simple definition of aggluntinative is that, in ancient greek (soci-ology) and modern German (auto-bahn) one can form words by joining other words together. In Japanese however, the situation is a little more mythological, the process of agglutination often involves an extra layer. In Japanese, while there are cases in which one simply joins words together (e.g. torihiki, pull-push meaning negotiations), one can form complex words by combining the signs, or Kanji, for everyday words.
This layering of Japanese can be discussed at two levels.
At the level of discussion of the merits of the Japanese language, or German and Japanese respectively, the layered nature of Japanese makes it a lot more compact. Complex German words are formed by joining shorter simple, everyday words together, resulting in some very long compound words. Japanese on the other hand uses the signs, or Kanji, for the everyday words and joins these together instead. Since the Kanji have shorter (kun yomi) names of their own, long compounds can be said using far fewer syllables. In Suzuki Takao's example the round lighting devise used above operating tables in hospitals is "Schattenfreie Lampe" (Shadow-Free-Lamp) in German, and "mu-kei-tou"（無影灯）in Japanese. It gets to be a lot shorter in Japanese because mu, kei and tou are the names for the signs that represents "no shadow lamp" (nai, kage, akari). So while learners of Japanese may think it a pain in the neck that Japanese not only has Kanji, but also has more than one name for each, Suzuki argues, quite successfully in my view, that it is this layered structure that makes Japanese so successful in expressing complicated meanings, using few simple buildings blocks, without resulting in some very long words.
At another level, it seems to mean that Japanese are always being "mythologists" or "bricoleuers" as defined by Roland Barthes and Levi-Strauss in that they are using the denotive signs for every-day things in combination to connote new meanings. They are still engaging in "savage thought."
And so what? I am not sure, but I think that it relates to:
Roland Barthes claim that Japan is "The Empire of the Signs"
Jane M. Bachnik's discussion of the prevalance and importance of "indexes" in Japan, in her opening chapter of "Situated Meaning." (Would Barthes have written "The empire of the indexes" had he been more precise? Are totems indexes? Are indexes always dual, dennotive and connotive?)
My claim that Shinto is a form of totemism that stopped using stones and branches and grass (as related in detail by Kunio Yanagita, back in the days when "everything used to talk") as their totemic badges, and started to use Kanji for their names (when, thanks to the ordered rule of the emperoro "everything stopped talking")
The fact that Japanese superheros are totemists.
Levi Strauss argued that "savages" are "bricoleurs" (people that use the tools and materials to hand to get a job done), in that they use things, usually found in the natural world, to categorise and organise their societies.
Thus *savages* in totemistic societies may have "Black Hawk" and "White Hawk" groups, and be called by names like "Sitting Bull." They use species of bird and animal as names for clans, families and individuals, because these things are useful to get the job of social categorisation done, and thus "good to think."
Had Levi-Strauss been more rigorous (I jest) he would have noted that some totemist use mythical and corporeal, artificial signs. There are "Water Flask" and "Dragon" tribes. Concentrating on these man-made signs Levi-Straus' definition of "the savage as bricoleur" starts to become rather vague. If the savage can make up entities (such as dragons) to use as names then how is the savage different from "Levi" named after some ancient Jews Straus? If the savage can use man made objects as names, then why not use patterns, and write his name "LEVI" and be done with it. And if he did, would he still be a savage? The problem with Levi-Strauss for me is that I can't find the place where he compares savages to himself, or where he explains what we are doing, and whether and in what way what they are doing is different. (As far as I am aware, I am a bricoleur too. My name is Timothy, the name of a semi-mythical 'beast' found in the Bible.)
Then Roland Barthes comes to the rescue with his theory of "Mythological" signs. I think that despite the fact Barthes analyses magazine covers and pasta advertisements,he uses the word "Mythologiges" because he is harking back to Levi-Strauss above, and providing a semiotic distinction between us and them, between anthropologist and the mythologist, the scientist and the bricoleur. The distinction of myth, mythological thought, and the savage mind is that it uses signs in combination at a two teired level of "denotation" and "connotation." The briocoleur/mythologists uses second level, connotative signs, that is to say signs in combination that are already signs for other things (see diagram, inset bottom right).
Hence, the black boy and the saluting (a flag) shown on the cover of Paris Match, are in themselves signs. We recognise them and their meanings, of respect, youth, and Africa etc. The cover becomes mythic because it combines these signs to present a new meaning: imperialism is good, all of France's colonial subjects respect the French flag.
Suzuki Takao argues that the Japanese language is appropriate for use as an International Language. I happen to agree. The principle reason he gives is interesting, one that I had not grasped, and relates to the discussion of myth, or savage thought above. Suzuki argues that the advantage of Japanese is in the two-teired way that it is "agglutinative". A simple definition of aggluntinative is that, in ancient greek (soci-ology) and modern German (auto-bahn) one can form words by joining other words together. In Japanese however, the situation is a little more mythological, the process of agglutination often involves an extra layer. In Japanese, while there are cases in which one simply joins words together (e.g. torihiki, pull-push meaning negotiations), one can form complex words by combining the signs, or Kanji, for everyday words.
This layering of Japanese can be discussed at two levels.
At the level of discussion of the merits of the Japanese language, or German and Japanese respectively, the layered nature of Japanese makes it a lot more compact. Complex German words are formed by joining shorter simple, everyday words together, resulting in some very long compound words. Japanese on the other hand uses the signs, or Kanji, for the everyday words and joins these together instead. Since the Kanji have shorter (kun yomi) names of their own, long compounds can be said using far fewer syllables. In Suzuki Takao's example the round lighting devise used above operating tables in hospitals is "Schattenfreie Lampe" (Shadow-Free-Lamp) in German, and "mu-kei-tou"（無影灯）in Japanese. It gets to be a lot shorter in Japanese because mu, kei and tou are the names for the signs that represents "no shadow lamp" (nai, kage, akari). So while learners of Japanese may think it a pain in the neck that Japanese not only has Kanji, but also has more than one name for each, Suzuki argues, quite successfully in my view, that it is this layered structure that makes Japanese so successful in expressing complicated meanings, using few simple buildings blocks, without resulting in some very long words.
At another level, it seems to mean that Japanese are always being "mythologists" or "bricoleuers" as defined by Roland Barthes and Levi-Strauss in that they are using the denotive signs for every-day things in combination to connote new meanings. They are still engaging in "savage thought."
And so what? I am not sure, but I think that it relates to:
Roland Barthes claim that Japan is "The Empire of the Signs"
Jane M. Bachnik's discussion of the prevalance and importance of "indexes" in Japan, in her opening chapter of "Situated Meaning." (Would Barthes have written "The empire of the indexes" had he been more precise? Are totems indexes? Are indexes always dual, dennotive and connotive?)
My claim that Shinto is a form of totemism that stopped using stones and branches and grass (as related in detail by Kunio Yanagita, back in the days when "everything used to talk") as their totemic badges, and started to use Kanji for their names (when, thanks to the ordered rule of the emperoro "everything stopped talking")
The fact that Japanese superheros are totemists.
Labels: nihobunka, nihonbunka, religion, superhero, theory, totemism, アニミズム, トテミズム, 宗教, 日本文化
Friday, May 21, 2010
Transformatory sacred items accross the ages
I noted in a previous post that the history of transofmatory items (変身アイテム) such as used by Ultraman (pens and glasses), Super Sentai (Power Rangers), Sailor Moon, Himitsu no Akko-chan, and Kamen Riders (Masked Riders), has a history in the transformatory symbols of Mitokoumon, Touyama no Kin and Samurai Momotarou. Japanese superheroes are always flashing a special symbol and transforming by means of its use.
The history is much older. I ague that Shinto is a geographical totemism, like that of the Arunda/Arunta/Arenda of Australia. In totemic religions the faithful recieve totemic badges which represent their owners and the ancestral spirits of their ancestors. The Arunda of the central Australia destert are one of many such groups found worldwide. Unlike most totemic religions, but in common with the Japanese, these "most primitive" (Freud, Durkheim) of totemists believed that the totem was associated with a place.
That the japanese recieve totemic badges from Shinto shrines almost goes un-noticed. More visible are the symbolic, soul containing badges that are given to the dead (mitama, Ihai). However, as Yanagita Kunio points out, once upon a time, there were "ikimitama" symbols given to the living. These were originally leaves branches of sacred trees and rocks from sacred mountains. They were believed to give their bearer life and were recieved from the time of first shrine visiting.
However in my view, and as Yanagita hints, the symbols were gradually replaced by kanji ideograms and piece of paper.
Yanagita writes, "in this reigion also the Nusa (gohei, zigzag strips of Shinto paper) were originally I think to be distributed among participants. This is similar to the leaves and branches of Japanese cedar and nagi (a evergreen tree/shrub) that were given to the faifthful from sacred trees on Mount Inari and Mount Ise" (Yanagita Kunio Collection No. 14 p 51, my translation.)
「この地方でも小さい幣を関係者に頒（わか）つのが本当の趣旨であったろうと思う。もししかりとすれば、後に言わんとする稲荷山の杉・伊豆山の梛（なぎ）のごとく、信者が神木の木の枝を追って行く風習と、著しく類似する点があるのである」柳田國夫全集１４p51
These days Japanese still recieve omamori or amulets from shrines that are said to represent a stand-in or self-replacement and protect the bearer from bad luck and impurity.
And as shrines become less significant, Mitokoumon, Ultramen, Masked Riders, Super Sentai (Power rangers) brandish their sacred symbols and transforms with them.
Before we call the Japanese primitive bricoleurs, let us not forget that "in the beginning was the word," and that I have a "Christian name."Am I transformed by it?
Labels: henshin, Masked Riders, morph, nihobunka, religion, Shinto, specular, Super-Sentai, totemism, ultraman, アニミズム, スパー戦隊, トテミズム, 仮面ライダー, 変身, 宗教, 神道
This blog represents the opinions of the author, Timothy Takemoto, and not the opinions of his employer.