Tag: Japanese

2025 – Stuff I loved

As I wrote at the end of last year, I think that celebrating the end of one year and the beginning of the next is best done by thinking about the moments of happiness that dotted what was, I think we can all agree, a pretty dark year. And so, I present to you a few of the things that I loved and enjoyed in 2025. I’m going to group them by type because I was blessed with a lot of enjoyment in this past year.

Music

Music has always been a source of comfort and happiness. Seems like I should recognize that more.

Moisturizer – Wet Leg – This album is straight fire. Holy hell. I stumbled on Wet Leg through the NPR Tiny Desk concert and the groove, man, the beat, the dirty, dirty funk grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. This is rock at its nastiest, sexiest, slipperiest best.

Strong Songs: A Podcast About Music – Podcasts are always such a mixed bag. The talky ones depend so much on guests and takes and pandering that even the best can sometimes get bogged down in PR kowtowing. But Kirk Hamilton seems to have built a podcast out of pure love and expertise, which is freaking amazing. Like, every episode is a full on music education, while never getting all high and mighty. Hamilton treats the Mario theme song with the same respect and erudition as he does Miles Davis’s So What. Want to learn about how Jazz works? He’s got you covered. Want to know about the inspirations behind Yoshi’s theme in Super Mario World? It’s there. Want to just bask in the simple genius of Lean On Me? Hope you’re ready to cry.

Books

Jeez, I read so many books this last year, and a ton of them were good. A few were GREAT. Here are a couple. I really couldn’t list them all in a reasonable way. I reviewed them here or elsewhere, so I won’t go into too much depth. Also, anyone who is interested can keep up with my reading on Bookworm.social.

A blue book cover reading Good Boy by Neil McRobert. A man is digging a hole in the ground. A small dog stands nearby, looking rough and ready. A house in the background has yellow lights on.
The cover to Good Boy by Neil McRobert.

Good Boy by Neil McRobert – Click for the full review, but I just want to reiterate, there was so much love in this horror book.

Re:Re:Re:Re:ホラー小説のプロット案 by 八方鈴斗 – Yes, yes, this is a Japanese book and I’m not going to talk much about it, but it was really cool and innovative and surprising. I want to translate it. Someone buy the rights! My review is on the Bookworm page.

Lost in the Dark by John Langan – Click for the review. Man, what a writer. Man, what a collection. so great.

The Philosophy of Translation by Damion Searls – I sometimes forget what a heady, intricate thing I do for a living. Searls shines a light on it that revealed things I never even considered.

Work

I write about work a lot here, but it’s how I spend most of my life and it has dominated so much of my thinking this year that I guess that’s natural. But, I am happy. I love my job. I love working with books and authors and publishers. I love seeing my name on book covers (ahem) and man, I cannot believe how much this work has grown this past year. I am so lucky.

Family

Cheesy and sappy and cliched as it sounds, my family continues to astound me with joy. My son, who turned 13 this year, is growing into an amazing young man, healthy and strong and curious about the world. My wife continues to be the unshakable rock on which we all rest. I am grateful to be able to be with such amazing people every day.

The Sea

I live on the Seto Inland Sea coast. I can walk to the beach in about three minutes. Every day I can, I go to it. Watch the sea birds, listen to the waves, feel the breeze. The sea is big, and constant, and always different. I grew up in a place far from the sea, so it remains something mysterious to me, sometimes even fearful. But when the anxiety roils and the future growls like a hungry beast, I can go to the sea and let it all sink into the deeps.

A distant shot of a small white fishing boat sailing to the right across a grayblue sea. Mountains are barely visible on the horizon. A seagull flies to the left.
Crossing paths

I’m sure there was more that got swept away by my aging memory, but these things stood out. All things considered, 2025 was a decent year for me personally, though I know many cannot say the same. I go into 2026 with only the wish that it does get better, that peace spreads and hate fades and love wins.

Strange Translations

I seem to have become known as “Uketsu’s English translator,” which is certainly not a bad thing to be. But it does mean I get quite a lot of questions about the works, some of which I can’t even answer. Like, no, I don’t know how Uketsu got his ideas. No, I haven’t seen under his mask.

A gray cover with red line drawings of building plans. It has a picture of Uketsu in one corner.
The Japanese cover to Henna Ie 2, coming soon in English as Strange Buildings.

But some questions, I can answer. And the most common of those is: Are you translating more Uketsu?

The answer? Yes, yes I am.

Uketsu currently has four books in print. Henna Ie (Strange Houses), Henna E (Strange Pictures), Henna Ie 2 (Strange Houses 2), and Henna Chizu (Strange Maps). Obviously, the first two are out and selling like hotcakes.

Henna Ie 2 is currently in editing and is scheduled for release in February 2026 under the title Strange Buildings. It’s quite an ambitious book that takes the core idea of Strange Houses in totally wild new places. It is also extremely dark, and there are some disturbing elements that are a departure from the first two books.

Henna Chizu was just released in Japan and the plan is certainly in place, but work hasn’t started yet. I have read the book, though, and it strikes me as the closest to a conventional “mystery” of all Uketsu’s work. It’s kind of a Kurihara memoir, talking about a puzzle in his family history, and he gets to play the great detective, solving not only his own family mystery but a couple of other murders. It should be a fun one to translate, with a very neat little trick. It also delves into Kurihara as a character and makes him quite human.

So, yes, there are more strange Uketsu books coming in English. I hope you all enjoy!

My First Japanese Talk

I’m using that term “talk” cautiously, because I’ve had public effects and appeared on TV in Japanese before, but in terms of “standing at a podium giving a prepared presentation in Japanese,” my first time was October 21st, 2025.

A small audience of older Japanese people sitting on folding chairs in a gymnasium-style hall.
The Crowd

The Hikari Community Development Support Center, which hosts local clubs and plans public events, invited me to be part of their annual local seminar series. I think my book and city newspaper column caught their eye, but it might also be that two former students from my business English days are on staff.

Whatever the case, I was scheduled to speak from 10 to 11:30, with a short break in the middle. I prepared a two-part talk, “Rediscovering Yamaguchi Prefecture.” The name is a play on my old TV segment, and featured since if the things I love most about this place.

Mostly, it was some of my favorite pictures taken here. Most of them are on this site somewhere.

I also included a segment on local sake, of course.

I’d say it went pretty well, but my Q&A segment ended up being way too long because I was just too damned tired to keep talking. And no one wanted to ask questions.

Anyway, they took a survey of the audience afterwards and the reaction was really good.

A Japanese language survey.
Survey response rate 96% (50/52 people)
Seminar rating: 42% Very Good, 54% Good, 2% Average.

I had a bunch of 2L sized prints left over from photo club meetings that I put out for people to take home and almost all were give afterwards, so that’s felt good, too.

It was a lot of fun, but lord, how draining…

Book Review – Jibuntoka, Nai Kara

It is probably a bit silly, reviewing in English a book only available in Japanese, but maybe if I can get people interested, it’ll get translated.

「自分とか、ないから」の表紙。黄色いバックで、いくつくかの仏教の偉い人がいる。 The Japanese cover to Jibuntoka,nai kara.
自分とか、ないから/There is no me, really

Anyway, this is a book about “Eastern Philosophy” (really, almost exclusively Buddhist thought) written by failed Japanese comedian Shinmei P. It’s real core, though, is its emphasis on introducing the important ideas that  offered the writer himself ease during his worst lows.

And he did have lows. Much of his life story is in this book, but he started out at an elite university as a great student, but it was all show. He killed it at interviews, but then couldn’t manage to work in teams so failed as an employee.

Everything he tried was a failure. His marriage, his entertainment career, everything. And he eventually ended up holed up in his room, reading philosophy to try and figure out the emptiness he felt.

Apparently, this book was born from an article he wrote about how, after reading fifty books about Eastern Philosophy, his own identity just stopped mattering.

And that is what guides his selection of thinkers (and I apologize for calling the Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama himself, a “thinker”) here. It’s all about emptiness, the negation of self, and the pursuit of freedom from attachment.

The good thing is, this book was overseen by an actual professor of religion, Kamata Tōji, so it’s not just a goofy listicle style of book (although it is that, too).

Personally, I found it a really accessible intro to some important Indian, Chinese, and Japanese figures in the history of Buddhism.

I really liked it, and it wasn’t that hard at all to read. Good stuff!

Translating Strange Houses

It has been a couple of months since Strange Houses, Uketsu’s debut novel in Japan and second in English translation, came out in both the US and UK. I figure it’s about time to address some of the particular issues translating this one, given that people have probably had a chance to read it.

The UK cover of Strange Houses by Uketsu. It is a pink-colored house layout against a blue background. Inside the house diagram is a bloody meat cleaver, a severed hand, and the caption "The chilling Japanese mystery sensation." It also has the Japanese title.
The UK cover of Strange Houses by Uketsu.

Just to warn you, this is not a spoiler free effort. I won’t go out of the way to include hidden details, but I’m going to go where I’m led.

So.

To recap a bit, I first encountered Uketsu as a YouTuber. My wife became a fan during the height of the pandemic and introduced me in 2022. I shared her interest, but being more interested in books than videos, I was pleased to see that he was also publishing books. Strange Houses actually began from a long-form video and a simultaneous story published on the fiction site Omokoro. An editor at the publisher Asuka Shinsha then reached out to Uketsu and said it would make a great novel if expanded. The existing story became the first chapter of the novel, and I think this helps explains some of the roughness that people might notice in Strange Houses as a whole. Don’t get me wrong, I love the mood and characters it introduces, but in terms of storytelling it is a little loose. And the ending is… Eh. It has its flaws, though I honestly believe the charms outweigh them.

That story is about a friend reaching out to Uketsu about an odd house he was thinking of buying. Poking into the house’s design, Uketsu’s other friend, Kurihara, speculated that the house had been designed for the purpose of murdering and dismembering people. The original friend ended up not buying the house because a dismembered body was discovered in a nearby wooded area and it just felt like a bad omen.

Now, here is where we get to the “translation issue.” In the original publication, that first dead body—the dismembered body missing its left hand, which becomes a significant plot point as other bodies missing hands are discovered—is never mentioned again. The conclusion seems to wrap up all kinds of plot points, but no one even says “Hey, what about that one guy.”

The English editor and I were both rather nonplussed by that. It seemed a rather significant plot point, indeed the instigating incident for the whole book, to just let fade into nothing.

We reached out to Uketsu about this, and about the possibility of adding something, even some simple comment like “It’s crazy that the first body was just a coincidence” so it didn’t feel like people just forgot about a whole dismembered body.

His response was initial surprise, since, as he said. “In the two years since publication not a single person has even asked about that.” But then he said that there was a new mass market paperback edition (or bunkoban) coming out in Japan with a new Afterword “by Kurihara,” which added some doubts and twists to the story as recounted by the fictional Uketsu. Real world Uketsu proposed both adding the Afterword to the English version and making some adjustments that would incorporate the initial body into the doubts Kurihara expressed, which was both a rather neat solution to our doubts and a very cool idea in general.

What this also means is that the English version of Strange Houses is in a very real way a different story from either version in Japanese—and I want to emphasize, it was made so by Uketsu himself. This wasn’t some rogue decision by the editor and I.

I think this should tell you something about the “literary” translation process. On top of cultural/linguistic issues, translators are some of the closest readers you’ll ever find. We dig deep, deep, deep into the stories we translate because, honestly, most of us are terrified of missing something important. We get confused. Sometimes it’s because we do miss things. Sometimes it’s because the author missed something. And sometimes it’s because of a gap in values, world-view, or cultural assumptions. And that’s where we, as translators, start to dig and clarify so we can ensure that the readers of the translated story have the best experience possible.

It also speaks to the role of editors. I think many people assume that in publishing, the author is some kind of towering, monolithic talent whose words are inviolate. It just isn’t true. Editors have enormous power to shape a story and even an author’s voice, and almost always for the better. You think it’s a coincidence that F. Scott Fitzgerald, Thomas Wolfe, and Ernest Hemingway all just happened to be discovered by the same editor? Look up Maxwell Perkins. It is an edifying example of how editors can influence literary output. The same is true of translation, perhaps even more so. See my review of Who We’re Reading when we Read Haruki Murakami for more on that.

So, yeah, it turns out that published stories are far more collaborative than is often believed. That’s not a bad thing! It makes the experience better for readers, if a bit stressful for writers…