Japan is often presented as perhaps the most monolithic society in the world and perhaps Japan presents itself that way too. But it really isn’t. Various journalists, historians and anthropologists have pointed that out over the years, so I’m hardly the first to say so. There are various ethnic minorities, there are the famed burakumin---something akin to India’s Untouchables---and there are other social and economic groups that don’t fit the “salaryman”, middle class picture so often given. In this brilliantly done work, Fowler describes life in a small area of Tokyo inhabited by large numbers of transient or rootless workers who form a labor pool exploited by contractors who want temporary help paid by the day. Alcoholism is rife, conditions (compared to the rest of Japanese society) are tough, and the usual politesse and reserve are absent. These Japanese are more individualistic and more insecure, perhaps the modern version of poor ronin---those outside social norms. After a rocky start, Fowler, fluent in Japanese, was able to penetrate this down-at-heel worker’s society, shunned by the rest of Tokyo. He lived in the tiny rooms, he ate at local ‘greasy chopsticks’ and drank in the local dives, talking with everybody and anybody who would chat. He came to know San’ya as perhaps no other Westerner ever has. He depicts this world via numerous conversations he had with men from all over Japan, through descriptions of his life as he moved in and out of the area over several years, and through descriptions of how he actually worked on construction labor gangs for a short time one summer. For me this is anthropology at its best. If you want a web of complex theories, shot through with jargon adapted from vaguely similar French sociological terms, forget this book. If you want to know what it was like back in 1989-1991, when Fowler was there, if you want a fantastically rich description of a part of Japan seldom seen or heard from, this is your book.
Fowler not only studied the community, he became a part of it as much as he could. The resulting work brings to mind Oscar Lewis’ work on Mexico---if shorter---to Laurence Wylie’s “Village in the Vaucluse”, “Akenfield” by Ronald Blythe or Elizabeth Warnock Fernea’s “A Street in Marrakech”. The style is somewhat different, but the effect is the same. Fowler creates a portrait of a time and place that is not easily forgotten.
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