Translating Uketsu

There’s this… I suppose “content creator” is the right term, though I hate it, in Japan called Uketsu. Uketsu is a mystery. He (it seems they’re a he, or at least the agencies involved have confirmed that for international sales purposes) writes articles for websites, creates narrative and music videos on YouTube, and publishes books, all in this very strange overlap of creepy, humorous, and cute. Uketsu appears in a black body suit and white mask, and uses a voice changer set to a rather cute, high pitched tone.

My first hint that Uketsu should be a “he.” Internet Writing Man…

My wife started out watching the videos in late 2021, I think, and got me hooked. Then I found the articles, and soon came the books, and my translator sense started tingling. I wanted to bring this very odd, very unusual ouevre to English audiences, and I thought it would sell. So, around the end of 2022, I put together a little sample of the debut book Strange Houses (変な家) and author intro for Pushkin Vertigo, with whom I had just finished working on Seishi Yokomizo’s The Devil’s Flute Murders (available now wherever you buy your books!). I sent it—as well as my strong personal recommendation to get on this very new, very original author—to Daniel Seton, the editor I’d worked with on that previous book. I made sure to mention my belief that, while Strange Houses was a fascinating book, Uketu’s second Strange Pictures 変な絵, was perhaps a more solidly structured, more confident work. Pushkin started doing their whole thing.

The video that started things off, Strange Houses 変は家, with English subtitles.

I’ve only seen the process from the outside, so I can’t say exactly how it works. I’m assuming there was some kind of internal meeting and review process, and they probably asked someone else to read the books and give impressions. I know for sure that last does happen because I’ve done it for other works. Anyway, sometime in the spring of 2023, Pushkin told me that they had made a successful offer on Uketu’s two books (these have since been announced officially, so I think I’m safe to say that much) and Daniel asked if I would be available to translate them.

Of course, of course, of course.

At that point, it was simply a happy outcome. I had set my sights on getting a project through, and it had been successful. I could get about my work as a translator, like I had so many times before.

Then, things began to change. It started to feel like this was going to be a big deal.

Earlier this year, right around when I finished the initial draft for Strange Pictures—which Pushkin (rightly, in my opinion) decided to release first, despite it technically being Uketsu’s second book—I heard that the author had become “the” hot topic at the Frankfurter Buchmesse, the largest international book event in the world. Someone from a major international author agency contacted me because they were handling international rights for all the languages except English (since Pushkin had beaten everyone else to the punch on that…) and wanted my help putting together PR material. Pushkin asked me for quotes to use in their press releases and promotional materials.

Pushkin is even releasing teaser videos.

I’d never experienced that sense of being “plugged in” with anything before. My previous translations for publication had been much more subdued, even with the Yokomizo book. It’s all very unexpected, and I don’t know what might be coming next. There’s this silly little part of me that’s like, “Movie deal when? Netflix series next?” but of course, I’m just the translator. None of that has anything to do with me.

Still.

It feels new. It feels exciting to be part of a thing that makes a splash. I’m glad I could help share Uketsu’s very weird but very fun work with a broader audience and I hope it brings him more well deserved success. Whatever comes, I think it’s OK to feel a bit of pride that I helped get Pushkin and Uketsu together before anyone else.

When the time comes, I plan to post something a bit more detailed about the books as they come out, but for now, take this as an announcement, too. Strange Pictures is scheduled for release in January 2025 from Pushkin Vintage, translation by me. Jim Rion. Strange Houses will follow. Both have also been sub-licensed to an American publisher, but I don’t know their schedule.

The Jason Ogg Theory of Luck

I’m a lucky guy, all in all. Bad things have happened in my life, but I’ve made it through them more or less intact. I have a loving, healthy family. A career that is basically ideal. And through it all, I’ve been able to experience the world in ways I never dreamed of.

I sometimes feel like I’m so lucky it’s kind of scary. Because luck can turn on you in an instant, can’t it? All this can disappear like a tears in the rain (IYKYN). That thought has haunted me in a very real way, and I think I’ve developed a weird psychological tick because of it.

The thing that made me understand my own way of interacting with life’s vicissitudes was a bit in one of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books, about the blacksmith Jason Ogg. Because of the fundamental importance of a skilled blacksmith, and the magical nature of the Discworld, Jason Ogg can shoe anything. Donkeys, unicorns, even Death’s pale horse. But to have the power to shoe anything that comes to you for shoeing, you have to shoe anything that comes. If Death comes to you to shoe his horse, you shoe his horse. If your drunk friends bring an ant for shoeing as a joke, you shoe the ant. If you deny the request to use a power, you lose the power.

A blessing must be used, or you lose it. That is how I have come to interact with what I view as my luck. In practical terms, that means that if a chance that seems “lucky” comes along, I take it.

When someone emailed me years ago asking if I was interested in coming to Japan to teach English, I wasn’t, actually. But it seemed like a lucky chance, so I took it. And now I have lived in Japan, happily, for two decades.

When my barber asked if I wanted to go out to dinner with him and his niece, whom I had never met, I went. I married his niece a year later.

When my wife and I went for a walk one day in the neighborhood and saw a house with a for sale sign in the window, we took a tour and made an offer that day because it felt perfect to me. We’ve lived in it for almost 11 years now, and never plan to move.

This tendency of mine, to say “yes” to pretty much every major opportunity that comes down the line has also guided my career. It’s how I survived the bankruptcy of the English school I first worked at, it’s how I became a semi-regular TV guest, and it’s now guiding my literary translation work.

As if to reinforce the idea, the lucky chances keep coming, and I’ve not had to say “no” to any yet. That idea, that I have not had to say no, is perhaps the other half of my theory of luck. Because, if you want to say yes to opportunities, you need to be able to take them. You need skills, flexibility, time, attitude… You need to be open and prepared. Which is why I study things almost constantly, because you never know when you’ll need to know, oh, trends in the Japanese mystery publishing industry.

Anyway. I was just thinking about this, because sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had said “no” to some of the things that have come along. But all in all, I’m glad I didn’t.

Review – Who We’re Reading when We’re Reading Murakami

This animated gif of the cover is from the publisher’s website, linked through the title below.

Who We’re Reading when We’re Reading Murakami

by David Karashima

Soft Skull Press

I just finished this book after picking it up based on a passing comment by Matt Alt on social media. I did so not because I am particular fan of Murakami—I’m not—but because I wanted to actually know more about the issue hinted at in the title: how the personality and identity (the “who”) of the translator impacts the end translation.

To sum up, this very well researched and written book follows the whole process of how Haruki Murakami went from fresh new Japanese novelist to global literary darling. Karashima tracks down and talks to all the editors, translators, designers, agents, and the author himself to look at how Murakami’s work up through Wind-Up Bird Chronicle ended up in English.

The result is a really compelling example of how intentional and designed such a career is. Please don’t take that to mean I don’t believe the success is unwarranted or undeserved; I make no such judgment at all.

But it is clear that what people read from Murakami in English has been very tightly controlled by a large cadre of peripheral figures. They selected stories, they cut text, they created the legend. Which is not a surprise to me at all, having been a translator working on pieces for publication.

Which brings me to my only grump about this book: I’d very much like a bit more focus on the question in the title. I want more depth on the people. In parts, I want more concrete looks at how specific choices the individual translators made could influence a resulting literary work’s reception. There are tantalizing tastes of this, with a few examples of people bringing up translation choices, but I’d have loved more.

In all, though, this strikes me as a valuable tool to demonstrate the realities of the translation process to a reading public.

It’s well worth a read to anyone interested in Murakami, translation for publication, outer international fiction.

Discovering Yamaguchi Sake – Errata

Despite my best efforts, I am still merely human, and I made mistakes in my book. Some are simple typographical errors, while others are the results of misunderstanding and miscommunication. I am keeping in touch with the publisher about hopefully getting these fixed in future editions (fingers crossed) but for now, here is a list of errors in Discovering Yamaguchi Sake.

Page 63 – Typo
- Error: “with only the toji, Harada, and his hashira
- Correction: with only the toji, Harada, and his kashira
Pp 100, 102, 103, 104 – Miscommunication
- Error: Ikuyamakawa
- Correction: Ikusanga
  - I feel like this one warrants explanation. The name of this sake label 幾山河 is both used in a famous poem and as a traditional kind of aphorism, both meaning “all the mountains and rivers of Japan.” In the poem, it is read “Ikuyamakawa,” while in the traditional phrase it is “Ikusanga.” The sake shop where I buy it uses the first, but I just found out that the brewery prefers the second.
Page 135 – Miscommunication
- Error: “I actually went to university with Nagayama Takahiro…”
- Correction: “I’m actually the same age as Nagayama Takahiro…”

Today is the Day! Discovering Yamaguchi Sake

Today, 21 February 2023, is the official release date of my first authored book, Discovering Yamaguchi Sake.

The cover of the book Discovering Yamaguchi Sake by Jim Rion, foreword by Melinda Joe. It features small images of labels from 23 sake breweries in Yamaguchi Prefecture.

It’s hard to believe the day has finally come. I first conceived of the idea way back in the spring of 2020, when the pandemic was first making its presence known and I found myself with extra time to fill. I must be honest—it was kind of a whim at first. I was looking for something to do with my time and my interest in sake, and I wanted to help bring attention to the local brewing scene. But when I got started, it all just seemed to take on its own momentum and somehow I managed to make it all the way through.

It has been such a fun, interesting ride, too. I met so many wonderful people, and learned tons that I doubt I ever would have without this. And above all, I have been so, so moved at how supportive everyone has been. From the very beginning, I was surrounded by friends and family who helped me believe it could actually be done. And here we are.

I must admit to feeling a little grumpy about the fact that I, personally, still don’t have any copies of my own book—it takes a long time to ship from America these days—but the idea that it is out there and getting read is truly astonishing to me.

So, to everyone who has helped make this happen—including all of you who have ordered or are going to order it—thank you and kanpai.

Now, go on, Buy My Book!