The most important feature of Milton Murayama's brilliant All I Asking for Is My Body is the quality of the storytelling. It deserves thorough discussion and criticism among literary professionals and students. The work has a further genius, however, in its evocation of several major topics in modern Hawaiian history, specifically during the 1930s, the decade before United States involvement in World War II. I suggest that Murayama’s novel provides us with valuable insights into the worlds of language, sugar plantation history, and the second-generation Japanese Americans, the nisei. . . . Critic Rob Wilson noted: “Part of the accomplishment of the novel is that the language ranges from the vernacular to the literate and standard, and so reflects the cultural and linguistic diversity of Hawaii.” In the novel, Murayama uses standard English and pidgin. In real life, the narrator Kiyo explains, “we spoke four languages: good English in school, pidgin English among ourselves, good or pidgin Japanese to our parents and the other old folks.” The wonder is that Murayama emerged using any one of the languages well. For most, that experience proved to be an insuperable barrier to good creative writing. . . . All I Asking for Is My Body is the most compelling work done on the Hawaii nisei experience. Murayama understood his theme to be “the Japanese family system vs. individualism, the plantation system vs. individualism. And so the environments of the family and the plantation are inseparable from the theme.” Fortunately for us as readers, however, he understood that the story was the key ingredient; that anything less would simply add to the sociological study of the plantation and the Japanese family in Hawaii.
First and foremost, I must state up front that this work is a novella length work, clocking in at approximately 100 pages. But don't let that dissuade you as Milton Murayama packs more into those 100 pages than most novels manage to do in 300+ pages.
This is an outstanding work, capturing so many varied aspects of the nisei (second generation Japanese Americans) experience in Hawai'i during the years leading up to (and including) the bombing at Pearl Harbor. I understand completely why it is considered a classic as it drew me in with its deceptively simple prose, rich characters, and vivid setting, all accomplished without verbosity.
The story is told from the first person point of view of Kiyoshi, the second son in a Japanese family who came to Hawai'i in the 1930s to work on the sugar cane plantations in order to better their lives. His older brother Tosh, is a headstrong young man, the manifestation of the growing differences between the issei (first generation Japanese Americans) and the nisei and as vastly different from Kiyoshi as can be imagined. In some respects, Kiyoshi is stuck between the old ways of filial piety represented by his parents and the birth of a new generation of Americans of Japanese ancestry represented by Tosh. The family is crippled by massive debt and as much as Tosh rebels against the thought of being saddled as first son, Kiyoshi is relatively content in discovering his own role in this new world.
But neither Tosh nor Kiyoshi are stereotypes. As often as Tosh finds the old ways grating and confining, he also find moments of pride in his heritage. Kiyoshi seems more comfortable in the divide between the two generations, seeming to understand the good points of the old ways, but fully aware that his generation is somehow different. Never is the angst in either character over the top, but when Tosh utters the titular line "All I asking for is my body," it packs an emotional wallop.
Murayama wisely chose to keep the narration in traditional English, while much of the dialog is in Hawaiian pidgin creole. This choice expertly creates a realistic setting while brilliantly capturing the differences between the ways the issei and nisei communicate. In turn, this subtly demonstrates the growing divide between the two "cultures."
What also is fascinating is Murayama's depiction of life on the plantation. The segregation encouraged by the luna (plantation bosses) shows us how the different racial communities were often pitted against one another to the benefit of the corporations milling the cane. It is fascinating and realistic to see the way the various races were pitted against one another, methods that resonate in today's political world.
Segregation by debt is also depicted well, the deliberate system of keeping the poor in their place. Kiyoshi's family are trapped in their lives by massive debt and bitterly low wages. It is no wonder Tosh feels suffocated, as if he is in a prison. And that is how it sometimes feels. With the bombing of Pearl Harbor, we as readers know that the internment of Japanese Americans is coming, but in many ways Kiyoshi's family has already been imprisoned from the time of their arrival in Hawai'i by the colonial system.
The bombing of Pearl is handled briefly, giving us the sense of what it must have been like being on a plantation so far away from the actions in the harbor. The event seemed so far away, but had such an impact upon their lives. This is all done subtly, but allows Murayama to explore the effect on the nisei boys. And that reaction is not standard text-book. The reactions are wonderfully varied, reflecting the complexity of emotions in the boys.
Now, I don't want to give the impression that this story is all sturm and drang, some sort of melodrama. It is utterly realistic, but it is peppered with humor and simple beauty. And best of all, within the family, there are no good guys or bad guys. Just a family, trying to make its way.
I highly recommend this book, not only for it's realistic portrayal of plantation life in Hawai'i and of the nisei experience, but for the emotional truth that underlies it all.
The plantation days are always either romanticized or vilified. People who grew up then reminisce about swapping laulau for musubi, speaking Hawaiian and pidgin with the other kids, swimming and fishing in the clean open ocean every day, and playing music late into the night at the knees of wise folksy old-timers. Plantation bosses kept everybody fed and clothed and entertained and educated with sports teams and movies and fall festivals-- a little zion on earth.
And then there's the other view: the plantations consciously set about breaking the Hawaiians from their land, and drove wedges between the different ethnic groups so that they could never effectively unionize or strike. The last vestige of fuedalism, right here, with shocking work conditions, open sewers running through the streets, impossible hours, and-- thanks to the plantation store-- nothing but negative pay.
This little novella brings the two views together. Yes, he romped, speared fish, went to school, picked coconuts, played plantation sports, and was a member of a little plantation family. He also saw the striking Filipino workers get evicted, get replaced, and starve. The family works for years without ever reducing their debt. He has to quit school in the 8th grade to work 6 days a week.
So it's both-- the plantations were cruel and ugly. But they were also the crucible that formed Hawaii, good and bad.
I picked this up in a Kailua bookstore-- a place with several shelves of Hawaiiana including one with many older, out of print titles. The staff member helping me navigate called anything over $6 "expensive" and failed to share my archivist-daughter appreciation for the early 20th C titles that seemed reasonably priced to me.
Since I am not in the habit of collecting old Hawaiian books, I stuck with some beginner $6 titles, but I stil haven't gotten over how different the scale of EVERYTHING is in Hawaii. 30 miles across takes you from shore to mountain to shore. Land, plants, people, and "history" are all sparkling new compared to the continents. And the sad, dark events driving so much of that new history are often presented indifferently. Chalk it up to the tourism industry, I guess, but I am having the hardest time finding voices critical of American occupation, Christian missionaries, or militarism, much less "development" under the guises of Dole and Monsanto, or consumerist and orientalist portrayals of Hawaiians. Maybe as a visitor, I just never found the right place to look.
The back jacket of THIS book-- so far the closest to resistance lit that I have found-- called it an "underground classic and campus bestseller," drawing comparisons to Huckleberry Finn and Catcher in the Rye. Murayama's "pidgin" English seems to have gotten a lot of literary theorists (and, presumably, linguists) excited when this was published in 1959, but what's even more significant in the context of Hawaiian literature is that he takes the reader into the 1930's/40's plantation experience in a way that had not been done.
I'm a product of Virginia public schools, where extraordinary first person acconts of poverty, racial conflict, and brutal physical labor are required reading, so the significance of Murayama's work is somewhat lost on me. I appreciated it most as a completely engrossing coming of age story. And as a window into the pre-WWII Japanese-American experience and plantation-immigrant expereience generally, it is also fascinating.
This book really took me back to recalling many of the cultural and linguistic euphemisms of living as a Japanese American on the islands. The book is easy to read, and it portrays a fine example of plantation living as an important part of the history of the islands.
Very useful and short book to understand Hawaiian plantations and exploitation of Japanese in old Lahaina town in Maui. This books tells the story of the Japanese Oyama family however there are other filipino, Portuguese and Korean families working and segregated within the plantation that are not the center of the story but it makes you wonder about the other personal struggles that other cultures might have gone through when moving to the island. There’s also a loss of the Japanese identity within the family members to slowly acquire an American culture, a process that sadly speeds up after the Pearl Harbor attack when neglecting their own identity was at that time a survival strategy. One of the most interesting concepts for me in the Japanese family was the importance of family honor and a “filial son” to work, commit and devote to the father and mother, constantly disregarding his own needs and aspirations. I like the way this idea and so many others were confronted by the oldest son. I believe it was very unique that the author decided to include Hawaiian Pidgin, which is a creole language used in the islands. This addition is so unique and yet he uses in a way that the phrases are completely understandable for non-Hawaiian Pidgin speakers. This is a very personal and wonderful book that you can finish while on the airport. I recommend it to anyone that wants to know the story of Hawaii and is interested in something more than beaches and golf while visiting the island. Getting to know the story of the island is a sing of respect and Ohana for the locals.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Okay, I just came across this on the shelf in the undergrad library- it's obviously a common assignment for Asian American Studies classes and I read it on a whim (and, truthfully, because due to the 100 books per year challenge, I have to balance out my reading with short things to make that date.) This is so evocative of early 20th century Hawai'i's mix of colonial working conditions, with a fair sampling of pidgin and a super clear evocation of the impossibility of getting ahead in the system as a working class immigrant. It also describes the Hawaiian Japanese in the days during and immediately after Pearl Harbor, which I've never really had narrated to me -- really useful. Also add this to a now-transnational list of Japanese descended authors who are trying to debunk the stranglehold of "filial piety" on Japanese society. (Think also Oe Kenzaburo, Kawabata Yasunari-- societal dissidents.) But honestly, what Murayama describes here is *fucked* - and so underdiscussed in histories of all this. Children stuck supporting their indebted parents for 10 years, 20 years, 30 years, then trying to start families of their own -- or obviously 1-2 children's futures being sacrificed so that the others can get out. I appreciated the soul searching regarding the impossibility of families (and colonial capitalism). Part and parcel of this important critique though, unfortunately but not unexpectedly, is that it's pretty 1930s-1950's terrible at gender. Girls of course aren't important in this masculinist equation for escaping an endless cycle of obligation. Oh well, still super illuminating - glad I picked it up randomly.
This was a random read for me. The title caught my eye in a pile of black literature books my roommate had brought home. I started reading with no knowledge of what type of literature it was or what it was about, and was surprised to find a narrative of the Japanese struggle against racism, economic disparities, and social classes in Hawaii. Truth is: I couldn't put the book down.
The writing style is enchanting and revealing. The depictions are precise and detailed. He superbly uses variations of both English and Japanese language. By the time you turn the last page, you still want more. We watch the nisei struggle with finding their identity between two distinctly different cultures - how they deal with massively life changing events, how they cope with debt, how they are viewed in society. The ending though is truly surprising, suggesting a certain level of cultural compromise or worse, a cultural rejection.
This books definitely falls in the category of resistance literature, liberation narrative, and dual-culture identity exploration.
randomly picked this up from the library and had no idea it's one of the most comprehensive experiences of the hawaiian nisei experiences in literature. i really liked it, but it definitely blossomed into something so poetic and beautiful more in the second half for me. i really didn't know much (and still have a lot to learn) about the hawaiian plantation experience. but one day we will all have our bodies and wills be our own. quotes i liked:
"tomorrow i'll go get her and we'll run hand-in-hand into the nearest cane field and not come out until we've loved and loved and explored the magic of our bodies." (95)
"freedom was freedom from other people's shit, and shit was shit no matter how lovingly it was dished, how high or low it came from. shit was the glue which held a group together, and i was going to have no part of any shit or any group." (101)
Terrific insights into rural Hawaii plantation life for Japanese immigrants. Murayama deals with intergenerational cultural conflicts and language evolution between the issei and nissei, and the horror of economic bondage that the plantation system wrought, and was my first real insights on all of that. It ends with the irony that the bombing of Pearl Harbor was a break-out opportunity for some Hawaii-based Japanese. This was first published in 1975, though copyrighted in 1959. Many issues are still current.
Mr. Murayama addressed this to my parents in 1988... I don't know why it's taken me 31 years to read it.
I recently moved to Hawaii a year ago. This caught my eye as a Hawaiian classic. This takes place in the 1930's. It's also on Oahu, which is the island I am on. It was interesting to see the exact place I'm currently out through the lens of the past, especially for Japanese descent in Hawaii before the war started. It was interesting to see how the relationship between Filipinos and Japanese were. It was also interesting to read about the plantations and fighting for money. The writing is beautiful too. The story also feels complete, despite how short this novel is.
A story of a Japanese-American boy growing up in rural Hawaii prior to WWII. He and his brother are at caught between their immigrant parents "old ways" from the old country and American ways. They are dirt poor, which is typical of many Japanese Americans at that time.
This is a classic, just about a hundred pages. However it says so much more as Murayama is very subtle and there are very strong messages between the lines. The writing is innocent and raw, yet powerful and full of soul.
Interesting to read since I'm now living in Hawaii and trying to learn about Hawaii's history. I liked that the author showed the generational divide, where one is trying to hold onto their cultural identity/customs while the other, younger generation is trying to assimilate to their new culture.
I'm curious to read the other books to see what happens to the family. Does Tosh keep his family obligations as number 1 son? Does the mother connivingly try to keep her kids close rather than let them live their lives and make their own decisions?
I’m not even sure how fairly/honestly/subjectively my review may be, based on reflections from various factors shared throughout this poignant novel…
Overall, Murayama elicited tears from me based on diversified and buried insights, whether they’re from an overall historical perspective, AND/OR deriving from subjective narratives featured by the author… Apart from living in Hawaii for over a decade, it was wasn’t a task to imagine how hard it would be to live in Hawaii as an “immigrant” before AND after the Pearl Harbor incident.
I really enjoyed this book - culture and language are some of my favorite things to study and being able to get an “inside scoop” on the lives of the Oyama brothers was fascinating to me. The pressures that they felt from their filial duty were conveyed so well and the struggle to navigate between their Japanese life and their American life was powerful. I loved to story and the insight that this book provided.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book! Prior to reading, I had little to no knowledge of the Hawaiian plantation system of the 20th century, neither was I aware of the kinds of demographics that lived in Hawaii at this time in history. At face value, I found the sentiment of sports (boxing) being the "only way out" of debt/poverty (plantation work in Hawaii) to be very relatable to the Black American experience. It was very interesting to see this theme emerge in the experiences of other marginalized communities—and in the early-mid 20th century at that. From the book's title and description, I never could have predicted this would be a major component of the story, but I think that's what made the read so enjoyable ^^!!
As discussed in the afterword, what continues to stick with me is 1) Kiyoshi's disillusionment with his Japanese heritage following the bombing of Pearl Harbor, an act he felt contradicted his culture's values; and 2) the physical manifestation of the plantation's social (racial) hierarchy in the camp's construction, specifically with regard to its sewage system: all of the camp's waste was flushed downhill into the same ditches used by the families living in the Japanese and Filipino camps, respectively (these communities were largely segregated from one another). As these topics are discussed/depicted through Kiyoshi's 1st person perspective, everything felt that much more personal (and at times, visceral). This book has really stimulated my interest in Hawaiian plantation history and I look forward to reading more about it in Five Years on a Rock, the next book in the series :))
This deserves a thorough discussion. Murayama equips language to the best ends. The narration and dialogue cannot be bored with, the rich history of the 1930's- pre-World War II- and the second generation of Japanese Americans are other corners of inspection that is worthwhile. Highly recommended and hardly an easy read.
If you've never thought about the Japanese-American experience in Hawaii, you'll be astounded by the revelations of cane plantation life from the late 1920s to World War II. It's a revealing introduction to Japanese culture and an examination of the last feudal state in America. You'll be intrigued by his use of vernacular language to express personality. Highly recommended.
I read this for class. This is a beautifully written novella, and I really enjoyed it, though it did take me a while to read, considering it was only 100 pages. It gave me a deeper understanding of what this time period and culture really looked like, especially with all the talk about being filial and number one son. I'm glad I read it.
I bought this at a used bookstore on Maui. I always try to buy a book from the local area to capture the real culture. This one fit. It was beautifully written and I think it really expressed a time and era of Hawaiian culture for 1941-1943 when sugar cane fields dominated lives and Pearl Harbor was bombed.
Novella-length novel of second generation Japanese in Hawaii in the decade before WWII. Interesting history on sugarcane plantation life, traditional Japanese expectations of their children, segregation, and the meaning of freedom--especially after the Pearl Harbor attack.
As a study of sugarcane plantation life in the lead-up to World War II, this was great. As a commentary on the cultural differences between Japanese immigrants (issei) to those plantations and their Hawaiian-born children (nisei), it's fantastic. As a story, it was so-so.
Great quick read about Asian American families in 20th century Hawaii. Very interesting, understanding Asian family dynamics and tradition was eye opening, it talked about race and poverty and misfortune through the characters not just in your face. It was subtle and I thought it was a pleasant read.