Fukushima mon amour: Carta a una amiga japonesa

by Daniel de Roulet

"Caímos en nuestra propia trampa, colaboramos con un sistema que sabemos portador de una muerte atroz." Nada hacía presagiar una nueva catástrofe nuclear. Y, sin embargo, sucedió donde menos se Japón, uno de los países más desarrollados del mundo. Hace veinticinco años, Chernóbil, ahora Fukushima. No hace falta esperar un nuevo accidente. Corren tiempos de indignación y esta pequeña octavilla es una primera respuesta literaria, producida en la urgencia de la situación. No tiene nada de oportunista ni de gratuito. En el momento justo del desastre, hace frente tanto al pasado de la lógica nuclear como a su porvenir. "Fukushima mon amour"es una carta personal del autor a una amiga japonesa, recordando la feliz noche pasada en Tokio hace exactamente un año, antes del tsunami y de la catástrofe nuclear de Fukushima. Una simple carta que se va degustando a pequeños sorbos como aprendió el autor que se hace con el sake. El autor, que ha trabajado en una central nuclear lo mismo que ha participado en protestas escribe estas lúcidas páginas haciéndose eco de Hiroshima mon amour, donde la protagonista recibía siempre el mismo "No has visto nada de Hiroshima".

39 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2011

Reviews

[Xavier Guillaume · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fukushima Mon Amour puts into words the global feelings towards the Fukushima nuclear disaster, written in the same year as the Tōhoku Earthquake and Tsunami that struck the nuclear power plant, leading to the evacuation of over 200,000 people (The earthquake being the largest earthquake to ever hit Japan, and the 5th largest earthquake to be recorded in human history).

The book starts off as an homage to Japanese nostalgia in a letter by French author, Daniel de Roulet. He writes a letter to a Japanese friend 7 days after the earthquake in the hopes of reaching her with no knowledge if she is safe. He recalls his time with her in Tokyo in a bittersweet love affair. As readers we are unsure of all the intricacies of their relationship, we are left having to fill in the pieces of their story in the letter.

There are two themes we can understand and feel strongly for in the letter: the feeling of longing for someone from the past and the fear of the world slowly destroying itself and there being nothing we can do to stop it. Although two distinct themes, I can't help but feel they are strangely connected. Both are feelings that feel distant, one for the past, and the other for the future, and both are feelings that feel out of our control, one cannot re-create or re-achieve a fond memory no matter how hard one tries, and one cannot stop further nuclear catastrophes from occurring no matter how hard one may try. I suppose in the end, one can only live on, and try to make the best of things, but I feel like the author is saying deep down self-destruction feels imminent, which is such a sad underlying feeling.

The second contribution to the book is a piece of spoken word that tries to make sense of the Fukushima disaster without making any sense. The work can best be described as a carefully structured flow of words written as prose in the style of Ginsberg. The poet is Anne Waldman, and since I am unfamiliar with her work, I really can't critique the poem itself. What I do know is the piece makes for some very difficult reading, which can feel frustrating because poetry itself can already be difficult to read.

The third piece is a letter to the Japanese people, written by professors and activists Silvia Federici and George Caffentzis. The letter outlines how Fukushima is proof that the Capitalist system can fail us, and fail us so devastatingly. The letter illustrates how both disheartening and frightening it is that one of the richest most technologically advanced societies in the world could suffer such a devastating blow by an act of nature, and how that blow escalates drastically due to man's pursuit for the advancement of nuclear technology. The author shortly thereafter calls on others to speak up against the regime of nuclear indoctrination, suggesting that the people should not be afraid to question the ones who swear to protect us.

The last piece is perhaps the most thought-provoking. Written by Japanese native and US expatriate, Sabu Kohso, his opinion piece speaks of everything people should be hearing and thinking about concerning Fukushima. Kohso argues that Fukushima is "the worst disaster in human history." I never thought of the exact event that holds that ranking, but perhaps he is right. How many millions of people live near the nuclear power plant or are within distance of radiation exposure? How many hundreds of thousands of workers have to work under high radioactivity exposure in order to shut down the plant? Not to mention the lifelong effects of people being exposed to this radiation that takes lifetimes to disappear.

What especially connected me to this particular piece was the voice Kohso spoke from. It is a voice that believes that humans need to work together in order to build a more successful society, and not only that, but humans need to work together with the Earth in order to do so. Furthermore, he instructs that people need not be afraid to question the government. The Japanese government specifically, had a growing concern, following the Fukushima disaster, to calm the general population by saying everything is under control, and the reactor is contained, despite evidence that radiation was leaking out.

What I found most interesting in the piece was the reference to the growing number of Japanese citizens who have taken it upon themselves to hold the Japanese government accountable. Mothers are going out in parks with their own Geiger counters, doing the jobs that the government should be doing, in order to ensure the safety of their own children. Additionally, local communities have filed lawsuits against the government concerning the recommencement of nuclear reactors near their community. It's saddening that a country so prone to seismic activity can feel that it is okay to continue nuclear power in the wake of what so recently happened and that will take 50 years to actually clear.

All in all, I really liked the book, although I admit the book took a second reading in order to fully digest all it had to offer. These are well-read, knowledgeable authors who speak from an ideology that is foreign to the pro-capitalistic rhetoric one is used to hearing from society and the media.

If I had to pinpoint the overarching theme of the book, it is that people want things to improve and get better, but they can't help but be fearful in the wake of what so recently happened. Fukushima was a tragic event, that struck the hearts and minds of people globally, and this book does justice in capturing the sentimentality concerning Fukushima. Sure, there could have been additional opinions and viewpoints included in the book, but I don't think Fukushima Mon Amour is meant to be the be-all and end-all book in defining and assessing the Fukushima disaster. It is simply a starting place to gain a better perspective on the people's opinions of Fukushima and their recommendation of what should be done.

[Liebes Buch · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Fukushima mon amour" (in Anlehnung an "Hiroshima mon amour") erschien noch 2011 in Frankreich. Der Autor, Daniel de Roulet, ist Schweizer. Der Text ist mit einem Ich-Erzähler versehen, und ich rätsel nun, ob es Fiktion ist oder nicht. Der Ich-Erzähler schreibt am 18. März 2011 einen Brief an seine japanische Bekannte Kayoko. Er erinnert sich an seine Eindrücke von Japan, auch von Fukushima ("Insel des Glücks") und von den Diskussionen, die er mit Japanern damals über die Atombomben hatte. Er erinnert sich auch an seine Arbeit als Informatiker im AKW und an seine Teilnahme bei einer Anti-Atom-Demo, bei dem ein Kernkraftgegner von der Polizei getötet wurde. Er schreibt diesen Brief, während er darauf wartet, von seiner Bekannten zu hören, dass es ihr gut geht.
Dieses Büchlein wurde in Deutschland als Betroffenheitsliteratur und Kernkraftprosa verspottet- anscheinend aus Wut über die Thematisierung. Denn das Büchlein ist weder wehleidig noch schlecht geschrieben. Ja, es ist klein: nur 37 Seiten plus Anhang des Ablaufs der Katastrophe. Aber ich finde, es ist ein gutes Zeitdokument, das nachzeichnet, was viele normale Menschen dachten und zudem einen winzigen Einblick in die japanische Mentalität gibt. Besonders lachen musste ich über den frechen Seitenhieb auf Angela Merkel- vielleicht deshalb in Deutschland der Verriss? Ich bin Hoffmann und Campe dankbar, dass sie sich getraut haben, das Buch zu veröffentlichen. Ich bin sogar der Meinung, dass die Welt mehr "Kernkraftprosa" braucht als nur 37 Seiten!