ReviewA Q&A with Jake Adelstein
Question: What drew you to Japan in the firstborn place, and how did you wind up going to university there?
Jake Adelstein: In high school I had a great deal of difficultnesses with anger and self-control. I had been studying Zen Buddhism and karate, and I thought Japan would be the perfective place to reinvent myself. It could be that my pointy right ear draws me toward neo-Vulcan pursuits–I don’t know.
When I got to Japan, I managed to find lodgings in a Soto Zen Buddhist temple where I lived for three years, attending zazen meditation at least once a week. I didn’t become enlightened, but I did get a better hold on myself.
Question: How did you become a journalist for the most frequent Japanese-language newspaper?
Jake Adelstein: The Yomiuri Shinbun runs a standardized test, open to all college students. Many Japanese firms hire young graduates this way. My friends thought that the idea of a white guy attempting to pass a Japanese journalist’s exam was so impossibly quixotic that I wanted to prove them wrong. I expended an entire year eating instant ramen and studying. I managed to find the time to do it by quitting my occupation as an English teacher and working as a Swedish-massage therapist for three overworked Japanese women two days a week. It turned out to be a more or less sleazy gig, but it remunerated the bills.
There was a point when I was ready to give up studying and the application process. Then, when I was in Kabukicho on June 22, 1992, I asked a tarot fortune-telling machine for counsel on my career path, and it said that with my overpowering morbid curiosity I was destined to become a journalist, a occupation at which I would flourish, and that fate would be on my side. I took that as a good sign. I still have the printout.
I did well sufficient on the introductory exam to get to the interviews, and managed to stumble my way through that procedure and get hired. I think I was an experimental case that turned out reasonably well.
Question: How did you succeed in uncovering the underworld in a country that is famously “closed” or restricted to foreigners? Do you think persons talked more in an open way to you because you were American?
Jake Adelstein: I think Japan is genuinely more open than persons give it credit for. However, to get the door open, you genuinely need to become fluent in the spoken and written language. The written language was a nightmare for me.
You’re right, though; it was largely an vantage to be a foreigner–it made me memorable. The yakuza are outsiders in Japanese society, and perchance being a fellow outsider gave us a weird kind of bond. The cops investigating the yakuza likewise tend to be oddballs. I was mentored into an early understanding and appreciation of the code of both the yakuza and the cops. Reciprocity and honor are necessary elements for both.
I also think the fact that I’m too stupid to be afraid when I must be, and annoyingly persistent as well–these things didn’t aid me in long-term romance, but they helped me as a crime reporter.
Question: Do you feel that investigative journalism is being threatened or aided by the elaboration of the Internet and news blogs, and the closing down of galore printed newspapers?
Jake Adelstein: In one sense it is being threatened because investigative journalism is seldom a solo project. It requires huge amounts of resources, capital, and time to actually do one story correctly. Legal costs and FOIA documents are pricey things. The more prominent the target, the dandier the peril and the more cash is required. The second-biggest threat to investigative journalism is crooked lawyers and corporate shills who sue as a harassment tactic. In general, it’s rather hard and time-consuming to be an army of one. It took me closely three years to break the story regarding yakuza receiving liver transplants at UCLA on my own. The costs in financial terms were immense, and so were the losses along the way. A team of reporters could have done the work much faster, probably.
However, these things said, blogging is also a great source of news that might go unreported, or be overlooked, by the mainstream media. Twitter, too, has had an interesting impact, in truth helping a journalist get out of jail in the case of James Karl Buck. We’re beginning to see kind of a public option in investigative journalism, too–such as things like ProPublica. They do an astounding occupation at investigative journalism, partly through donations, and they have a great web site. So the Internet is not all bad for investigative journalism, as long as we proceed with caution and forethought. At the same time, real intelligence-gathering work in truth requires you to put down your cell phone and your computer and get off your ass and meet people in the real world. As odious as it may be, we have to sift through garbage, pound the pavement, and visit the scene of the crime. Not all answers may be found in front of a keyboard, or on Google, and the “it’s all in the database” mentality is the bane of reporting and oftentimes generates shoddy reporting.
The person journalist may do great investigative work–it’s just a lot harder, and ordinarily financially difficult to do unless you’re independently wealthy, like Bruce Wayne. Most of us don’t have the time or the resources or the lavishness of keeping down a day occupation and doing investigative journalism on the side, as a hobby.
Question: What do you hope your American audience may learn from your book?
Jake Adelstein: I think everyone will take away something dissimilar from the book. I suppose you may learn a lot when it comes to how journalism works in Japan, how the police work, and how the yakuza work. I would also hope that people take away from the book an understanding of a heap of of the things I genuinely like regarding Japan and the Japanese, things like reciprocity, honor, loyalty, and stoic suffering. I think in Japan, I learned how primary it is to keep your word, to never forget your debts–and not just the financial ones–and to make repayment in due course. Perhaps that’s what honor is all about.
There’s a word in Japanese, hanmen kyoshi, which means, more or less, “the teacher who teaches by his bad example.” At times, I’m an magnificent hanmen kyoshi in the book.
Everything I’ve learned that’s necessary to me is in the book somewhere. I hope there’s something universal in the contents beyond just making humans conscious of cultural divergences amid the United States and Japan, or reiterating the importance and value of investigative journalism. Like a book I would choose to read to my children, I hope there’s some kind of moral to it all. Maybe the real lesson is to be kind and helpful to the persons you care when it comes to whenever you can, because it’s good for them, and good for you, and your time with them may be much shorter than you imagined.
(Photo © Michael Lionstar)
From Publishers WeeklyStarred Review. A young Japanese-schooled Jewish-American who worked as a journalist at Tokyo newspaper Yomiuri Shinbun for the duration of the 1990s, debut author Adelstein started out with a routine, but never dull, police beat; before long, he was illfamed international for engaging the dirtiest, top-most villains of Japan’s organized criminal underworld, the yakuza. A pragmatic but sensible character, Adelstein’s worldview takes rather a beating for the duration of his tour of duty; thanks to his immersive reporting, readers suffer with him through the choice among personal safety and a chance to confront the evil inhabiting his city. He learns that “what matters is the purity of the information, not the person supplying it,” considers personal and societal theories behind Tokyo’s illicit and semi-illicit pastimes like “host and hostess clubs,” where citizens remunerate for the illusion of intimacy: “The rates are not unreasonable, but the cost in humane terms are fabulously high.” Adelstein likewise examines the investigative reporter’s tendency to withdraw into cynicism (“when a reporter starts to cool down, it’s very hard… ever to warm up again”) but in a faithful manner sidesteps that urge, constructing a deeply thought-provoking book: equivalent constituents cultural exposé, unfeigned crime, and hard-boiled noir.
Review“Groundbreaking reporting on the yakuza. . . . Adelstein shares juicy, salty, and occasionally amusive anecdotes, but galore are frightening. . . . Adelstein doesn’t lack for self-confidence . . . but underneath the bravado are a huge heart and a relentless drive for justice.”–The Boston Globe
“Gripping. . . . [Adelstein’s] vividly elaborated account of investigations into the shadowy side of Japan shows him to be more enterprising, determined and crazy than most. . . . In a good deal of of the freshest pages of the book, our improbable hero tells us in regards to his initiation into the seamy, tough-guy Japan beneath the public courtesies,. . . . Adelstein builds his stories with as much surprise and grit as any Al Pacino or Mark Wahlberg movie, blurring the lines among the cops, the crooks and even the journalists. . . . Tokyo Vice is ofttimes so snappy and quotable that it sounds as if it were a treatment for a Scorsese movie set in Queens. Yet the facts underneath the noirish lines are gathered with what looks to be ferocious diligence and resourcefulness. For even as he is getting slapped around by thugs and placed beneath police protection, Adelstein never loses his gift for crisp storytelling and an unexpectedly earnest positive feeling of wanting to push ahead to undertake to rescue the damned.”—Pico Iyer, Time
“A journalist’s essay not similar to any I’ve ever read.”–Dave Davies, Fresh Air
“Marvelous. . . . Tokyo Vice offers a arousing and attention holding glimpse into Japan’s end-of-last-century newspaper culture as seen from a gaijin’s perspective. It’s filled with startling anecdotes and revelations. . . . Adelstein writes of his quest for scoops with sardonic wit, and his snappy style mixes the tropes of detective fiction with the broader perspective of David Simon’s books as he makes a careful account of his journalistic wins and losses. . . . The author’s gallows humor bleeds into even darker, more severe hues once Adelstein starts covering the Japanese mafia. . . . Astonishingly proves that no matter how weird and perverse Japan may seem in fiction, the real thing never fails to exceed our most violent expectations.”—Sarah Weinman, Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind
“Tokyo Vice succeeds on various levels: as gripping journalism, as a ragged crime tale, as culture-shock memoir. Stakes are raised in it is third act as the yakuza exercise increasing pressure on Adelstein, but he pursues the story anyway. Obviously, he lived to tell his tale — and thank goodness, because it’s a arousing and attention holding one.” —BOOKGASM
“Engrossing. . . . fast-paced.”—The Atlanta-Journal Constitution
“Exposes Tokyo’s darkest, seamiest, most agreeably diverting corners. . . . [A] gritty, true-to-life account of 12 years on the news beat as a staffer for a Japanese each and everyday — and it is exceptional. Its classic atmospherics rekindle memories of Walter Winchell and Eliot Ness. It’s a tale of adrenalin-depleting 80-hour weeks, full ashtrays, uncooperative sources, green tea, hard liquor, and forays into the commercialized depravity of Shinjuku’s Kabukicho. . . . Definitely raises the bar. . . . A classic piece of 20th century crime reporting.”—The Japan Times
“[A] gripping story. . . . Pulls the curtain back on a sordid element of Japanese society that few Westerners ever see. In addition to his clash with [a] yakuza boss, Adelstein details the more remarkable cases from his 12-year career at the Yomiuri, including “The Chichibu Snack-mama Murder Case” and “The Emperor of Loan Sharks.” No less arousing and attention holding is the view Adelstein provides into Japanese society itself. . . . Adelstein’s Tokyo is a veritable Gomorrah where almost each act of intimacy is legally purchased and sold.”—San Francisco Examiner
“Debut author Adelstein started out with a routine, but never dull, police beat; before long, he was illfamed international for engaging the dirtiest, top-most villains of Japan’s organized criminal underworld, the yakuza. Thanks to [Adelstein's] immersive reporting, readers suffer with him through the choice among personal safety and a prospect to confront the evil inhabiting his city. . . . Adelstein also examines the investigative reporter’s tendency to withdraw into cynicism (“when a reporter starts to cool down, it’s very hard… ever to warm up again”) but in a faithful manner sidesteps that urge, producing a deeply thought-provoking book: equivalent elements cultural exposé, true crime, and hard-boiled noir.”—Publishers Weekly, starred review
“Not just a hard-boiled true-crime thriller, but an engrossing, troubling look at crime and humane exploitation in Japan.”—Kirkus
“Terrific. With gallows humor and a hardboiled voice, Adelstein takes readers on a shadow journeying through the Japanese underworld and examines the twisted relationships of journalists, cops, and gangsters. Expertly told and highly entertaining.”—George Pelecanos
“Sacred, ferocious and businesslike. This is the Japanese mafia that Adelstein describes like not a single soul else.” —Roberto Saviano, author of Gomorrah: A Personal Journey into the Violent International Empire of Naples’ Organized Crime System
“A gripping and absorbing read. Very few foreigners ever come close to discovering what’s actually going on in Japan’s closed society. Adelstein chases two major stories that pull him into a vortex of destruction, threatening his friendships, his marriage and even his life. As he battles with unfathomed issues concerning truth and trust, Tokyo Vice approaches a heart-pounding denouement. This is a terrifying, deeply moral story which you can not put down, and Adelstein, if once in a while reckless, is an exceedingly courageous man.”—Misha Glenny, author of McMafia: A Journey Through the Global Criminal Underworld
“A tale of a gaijin who stumbled onto a story so crucial and so dangerous that it put his life at risk. A yakuza offered him half a million dollars not to tell it. He wrote this book instead.” —Peter Hessler, author of River Town: Two Years on the Yangtze
“In this dark, many times humorous traveling through the underworld of Tokyo, Jake Adelstein captures incisively what it means to be a gaijin and a reporter. Whether he is hunting for tips in Kabukicho or pressing yakuza for information, it is an adventure only he could write. For any individual fascinated in Japan or journalism, this is a must read.” —Robert Whiting author of Tokyo Underworld: The Fast Times and Hard Life of an American Gangster in Japan
“Anyone fascinated in tattooed yakuza, ‘soapland’ brothels, and the respective other distinct features of Japan’s lurid underbelly is guaranteed to be electrified by Tokyo Vice. Why is a manual on the perfective way to commit suicide a Japanese bestseller? Who goes to sexual harassment clinics? What’s it like to spend a night in a male hostess bar? Tokyo Vice reveals all this and more. It’s a story of lust and profit; a chronicle of fear and determination; most of all, a modern bildungsroman that simultaneously illuminates the soul of it is narrator and that of modern Japan through the undersurface of Tokyo, the world’s most arousing and attention holding city. I loved this book for a good deal of reasons—its humor, it is pathos, it is insight, it is honesty—and possibly most of all, for reminding me of how lucky I am to live here.”—Barry Eisler, author of Fault Line
“Jake Adelstein’s razor straight reporting from the mean streets of Tokyo is a coming of age story that reveals more than it pretends to—because he has the guts to find the truth, and the gall to tell it.”—Roland Kelts, author of Japanamerica: How Japanese Pop Culture Has Invaded the U.S.
“Vivid, insightful, and altogether revealing of the decadent, seedy and sexual elements of Japanese society, Tokyo Vice is ripping fun.”—Karl Taro Greenfeld, author of Speed Tribes: Days and Nights with Japan’s Next Generation
“Jake Adelstein writes in the classic hard-boiled Dashiell Hammett manner—complete with stubbed out cigarettes and a shot of whiskey shared with his cop informant—but this is not San Francisco or New York, it’s Tokyo, and it’s not fiction. Those who live and work in Japan will recognize reality on each page. It’s at times a harsh and ugly reality, but depicted humorously with whimsical details of Japan’s twilight world that we only dreamt of. A guaranteed page-turner.” —Alex Kerr, author of Dogs and Demons: Tales from the Dark Side of Japan
The nail that sticks up, gets hammered down…
Imagine you’re at a bar…