Underground

Underground combines two collection of interviews. Part one is a grouping of interviews with victims of the sarin gas attack. Part two is a collection of interviews with former and current members of the religious sect that perpetuated the attack. The author, Murakami Haruki, took up the assignment in part to understand his own cultural identity after almost a decade of living abroad. While the book is made up of narratives from individuals of widely varying backgrounds, the stories share common themes, and together, they reveal many intriguing aspects of the Japanese psyche and the values of Japanese society and culture as a whole.

Ie (家), Gakkō (学校), and Shigoto (仕事) means family, school, and work, all which are important to Japanese society and culture. One of the most prominent theme was the value and importance which the interviewees placed on their jobs. Education is an important key in order to getting a good job and that graduating from a top-ranking university is regarded as an essential requirement for a high-level position. Working extra time appeared to be typical for the

interviewees – numerous talked about waking up early so they could arrive at work up to 90 minutes prior it officially began. Despite the fact that they were experiencing compelling physical symptoms from breathing in sarin, a large portion of the interviewees proceeded on their way to work, or under the insistence of a colleague or superior. A few of the interviewees came back to work quite soon after the attack, regardless of not being completely recuperated. One salesman, who caught an unidentified train at Kodemmacho Station, named Ken’ichi Yamazaki, age 25, said, “Honestly, it would have been better for me to take some time off with sick pay, but the company wasn’t that generous. It was nine to five, plus overtime just like always” (188).

Also significant was the disconnection and isolation between the commuters. “Keeping quiet is a bad Japanese habit” (169). In spite of the observable inconvenience brought on by the gas, the vast majority of the interviewees did not try to ask other passengers what was going on, preferring to wait until the next stop to change trains and distance themselves from the situation. One interviewee, who was in her 30s was Ikuko Nakayama, who caught the Tokyo Metropolitan Subway: Marunouchi Line (Destination: Ikebukuro) on train B801/B901, said, “No one said a thing, everyone was so quiet. No response, no communication. I lived in America for a year, and believe me, if the same thing had happened in America there would have been a real scene. With everyone shouting, “What’s going on here?” and coming together to find the cause” (114). Additionally, passengers that lost consciousness stayed lying on the floor for quite a while. Commuters, with a few notable exceptions, did not endeavor to help them, rather waiting for employees whose power permitted them to intervene.

Many of the interviewees also expressed a level of disillusionment with Japanese society and its emphasis on the material, often at the expense of the spiritual or moral side of the society.

One interviewee, on a Marunouchi Line bounded for the Destination Ogikubo on Train A777, Mitsuo Arima, was age 41, assessed the situation, saying, “we’ve lost any sense of crisis and material things are all that matters. The idea that it’s wrong to harm other has gradually disappeared” (65). Another interviewee Toshiaki Toyoda, a subway worker, who was 52 at the time, caught the Chiyoda Line on Train A725K, said, “I already knew society had gotten to the point where something like Aum had to happen … It’s a question of morals” (38). A few interviewees likewise voiced criticism of the media, specifically because of the way it misrepresented and sensationalized the sarin

attacks.

Not only did the victims express a level of disillusionment with Japanese society and its emphasis on the material, often at the expense of the spiritual or moral side of society, but the former and current members of the religious Aum movement also did too. The emergence of new religious movements, like Aum Shinrikyo, in the 1980s reflects “the increasing dissatisfactions of modern people with the apparent spiritual desolation of a modern society that appears capable of inflicting increasing levels of stress and hard work on its members compensated only by material rewards, which themselves are tenuous and at risk of economic downturns and recessions,” said by Ian Reader. Murakami also adds “for people who are outside the main system of Japanese society (the young in particular), there remains no effective alternative or safety net. As long as this crucial gap exists in our society, like a kind of black hole, even if Aum is suppressed, other magnetic force fields—Aum-like groups—will rise up again, and similar incidents are bound to take place” (248). Haruki Murakami interviewed Kanda Miyuki, one of the current members of the cult, said that the reason why she joined Aum was “to concentrate on her ascetic training, she left high school and took vows. . . . Talking to her, I could understand how Aum Shinrikyō was a kind of ideal place. She clearly found ascetic life far more fulfilling than living in ordinary society, where she could find nothing of any spiritual value. Aum was a kind of paradise” (304).

The interviews highlight numerous captivating parts of the Japanese mind. Work was a high, if not a central, priority for the vast majority of the interviewees. Isolation, individualism, and absence of correspondence were common throughout many accounts of the attacks. A significant number of the interviewees expressed disillusionment with the materialism in Japanese society and the sensationalistic media, and in addition the inefficiency of the emergency response system dealing with the attack. However, after viewing the sarin attack as an ‘extreme and exceptional crime committed by an isolated lunatic fringe', it was simple for Japanese citizen to avoid facing the darker realities of both Japanese society and culture, and their own particular selves. As one said, “Of course, Tokyo is known as a safe city. The gas attack hasn’t changed my opinion of Japan; there’s no country in the world as safe as Japan” (136). As Murakami discerns the fundamental issues leading to the attack, we achieve a clear vision of an event that could occur anything, anywhere. “After this experience we must make every effort to ensure that this prosperous and peaceful nation, built on the labors of previous generations, is preserved and passed on for generations to come. The most important thing for Japan at this point is to pursue a new spiritual wholeness. I can’t see any future for Japan if we blindy persist with today’s materialistic pursuits” (131). And as though many of the victims would rather forget the whole incident, “we just can’t let it happen again. That’s the main thing. All the more reason why we can’t forget this incident. I just hope that what I’m saying, when it gets into print, will help everyone remember. That’s all” (158).

Works Cited Murakami, Haruki, Alfred Birnbaum, and Philip Gabriel. Underground: The Tokyo Gas Attack and the Japanese Psyche. New York: Vintage, 2001. Print.