Feathered Quill Book Reviews

 #Authorinterview with Michael Pronko

Today, Feathered Quill reviewer Ephantus Muriuki is talking with Michael Pronko, author of Tokyo Juku.

FQ: Congratulations on your new book! It is a truly page-turner that makes one feel right in the middle of the action in Tokyo. What is it about the Juku school that made you feel that this is where Detective Hiroshi's story needed to happen?

PRONKO: The commodification of testing, degrees, and studying has become a massive industry in many countries, but Japan has perhaps commodified it more completely and more quietly. Tests can determine your entire life here. It’s a crucial question in most Japanese people’s lives—take the test or not? Study hard or not? Become a competitor or a drifter? As a professor at a Japanese university, I keep a note on my computer, primum non nocere, which means, at least do no harm. I wish the education system would do the same. The pressure of tests is tremendous.

FQ: Hiroshi is a really interesting character. In one place, he is waiting for the birth of his baby, and in another scene, he's playing the head of an investigation. How did you find the balance between his personal anxieties and the professional chaos of the case he was working on?

Author Michael Pronko

PRONKO: I'm not sure he does find the balance. But who does? I don't. It's a tricky balancing act for most people, I think. At one point in the novel, Hiroshi thinks to himself that he's walking a tightrope, and he is. We all are. He gets pushed into things —like autopsies or being in charge of a case —but he also pulls back to find some point of understanding. His wife, Ayana, helps him stay grounded, but he still has to move back and forth between complex and demanding situations.

FQ: Terui, the victim here, is a superbly intricate character. What goes into creating someone like him, who serves as both a brilliant mentor and deeply flawed human, of course depending on who you ask?

PRONKO: Terui is an amalgam of many different educators I know, have heard of, and have read about. There are many shocking stories in the papers about teachers. When teachers can't handle the pressure of the job, they often resort to destructive coping mechanisms. They are highly respected, but that isn’t enough. They’re overworked, suffer from depression, get burned out, and quit, or worse. They are often victims of the system, just as much as everyone else. I don't know any teacher quite like Terui, but, like most teachers, he has opposing sides to his character, just at even more extreme ends.

FQ: What's it like to write a character such as Takamatsu, who exists outside the structure of the official police force?

PRONKO: He was inside the system as a detective for a long time, but outside, he does things in the same way, only more freely. He's a character who has a strong sense of right and wrong, but in terms of the outcome. A shortcut or two is not a problem for him. I love writing scenes with him because he breaks all the rules everyone else is too afraid to break. And he cracks jokes about anything and everything. Still, joking, along with drinking, talking, and thinking out loud, are essential to the insights he contributes, without which Hiroshi and the others couldn’t crack the cases.

FQ: Above and beyond the whodunit, the book really digs into the business and politics of education. What did you find most interesting when writing about that?

PRONKO: Like they say about democracy and sausage, you don't want to see how it’s made. Education in Japan often preys on people’s fears, anxieties, and hopes as part of its business model. That became clearer to me as I researched the novel and began incorporating it into the story. I also realized how much I put up a firewall for students against the worst sides of the system. I often feel I have to help them unlearn, and relearn in new ways. The politics of education can be intense. As I wrote, I found it interesting, too, to realize that the system has many strong points. For many people, business and politics are secondary to education being personally transformative, if only to give them something to rebel against.

FQ: The media does complicate this story very much; or rather, it complicates the investigation. What gave you the idea of adding it as a theme/element to the story? A personal experience, maybe?

PRONKO: Having written for various print media in Japan for many years, I saw the good and the bad of reporting. The constant worry about what the media will say and the fear of a scandal are ever-present for schools, companies, and individuals. In Japan, public opinion, social reputation, and scandalous behavior have a huge impact because it is felt to be so shameful. The media does a decent enough job with some things, but with others, it exacerbates problems by over-reporting trivialities and pulling its punches on certain touchy issues, like education. The media in the novel focus on the sensational rather than the essential. Including them in the story turned out to be a sort of criticism, but it’s also a reality.

FQ: This new chief, whom the detectives have colloquially dubbed as 'Gyoza,' believes in a very different management style. What was fun or difficult in making his introduction of a new authority figure who shakes up the dynamics of the homicide department?

PRONKO: The need to shake up the dynamics of institutions and organizations—from companies to universities to police departments—is an ongoing issue in Japan. The status quo can get shaken up in positive ways as the system changes, but then it sometimes gets screwed up even worse. Changing things in Japan is not easy. So, one can sympathize with any reformer. In the novel, this new chief is "KY," a Japanese slang term meaning literally, unable to "read the air," or in other words, clueless. He's a good, strong character, but pushes everyone in the wrong direction and relies on formulas that reinforce the hierarchy rather than improving efficiency and strengthening human relations.

FQ: What is it that you want those who have not experienced this education system to understand regarding the reality of life for students like Mana and Kota and their struggle to pass exams?

PRONKO: With my students, I always think, they are tough! Frankly, the pressure society puts on them, the demands made of them, and the lack of time to mature freely are a bit shocking to me. After years of hearing horror stories from my students, I wanted to show how they are pushed to study for the test rather than explore their curiosity. They get pressed to find a job and lose motivation to study. It’s all so over-directed and micro-managed. Handling pressure is part of growth and individuation everywhere. Still, the scales in Japan are tilted toward doing what everyone else does, and being obedient to what society tells you to do. It impresses me that students handle it all as well as they do. I would have crumpled. But most students survive, and quite a few thrive. Students often seem shy or withdrawn, but they have a lively inner world filled with opinions and dreams that sadly often get lost in the shuffle.

FQ: This story is so steeped in the life and rhythm of Tokyo. When you're not writing, where's your favorite place in the city to go and just absorb I would call the 'atmosphere' that ends up fueling your books?

PRONKO: I love hanging out all over Tokyo. Tokyo is like an interlocking set of small villages. Or big villages, I guess. I set this novel in Kichijoji, one of those villages in western Tokyo, close to where I live, but I also like the eastern, older part of the city. Every area of Tokyo has some small neighborhood back streets that are very cool. Mostly, I end up hanging out in places along my commute home, which is through central Tokyo, the large stations along the Yamanote Line and inner subways, and then further west along the Chuo Line. I have favorite jazz clubs, bars, and restaurants all along those routes home, so I can hop off the train at almost any stop to meet friends, hear music, or grab a drink and a bite to eat. The atmosphere of nearly every part of the city soaks in. Almost any part of the city offers something surprising. I love that.

FQ: What can readers expect from you in days to come? 

PRONKO: I have another Detective Hiroshi novel in the works, about tourism, which has become a huge industry here. So many tourists coming to visit has some benefits, but it’s become problematic. Visitors are swamping historic sites and urban areas. That industry is changing, and I’m not sure for the better. I also have outlines for a Hiroshi novel about gambling and about the fishing industry. I’m updating my guide to jazz in Japan, which is a lot of fun. I’m still writing essays on life in Tokyo, too, but those take a while to get enough to collect into a single volume. Anyway, Hiroshi still has many cases left to work on.