In an essay published in May 1947, “Ningen wa nikutai de aru” (The Human Being is the Body), Tamura argues that he has an ideology—his theory of the body. It was constructed as an answer to his critics and published in a serious journal, Gunzō (People in Groups). In it, however, he does not clearly define the content of the ideology which he was condemning or name its practitioners. Instead, he attempts to re-value the body. He plays with the term, “ideology” (in Japanese, shisō, ideas or thought) and sarcastically repeats it over and over. He makes little effort to relate his ideas to the great intellectual debate of the time over shutai, or subjectivity. The first step in recovery from defeat, he is saying, is to listen to our bodies. He even remembers his painful tour of army duty as seven years, not the actual six. Tamura’s “theory” works better, however, for liberation of male bodies or male pleasure. And though convinced of the truth and sensitivity of his own theory, Tamura nevertheless objectifies and commodifies female bodies. He does so in a time of extreme poverty and conversion from war to peace, not in an atmosphere of an expanding economy or affluence.

A certain critic has stated in connection with my work Nikutai no akuma: "this work contains no ideology" (sakuhin ni shishōo ga nai). Critics will undoubtedly hand down the same judgment of my recently completed story, Nikutai no mon (Gate of the Body). When I first read this criticism, I was forced to think very hard about that thing we Japanese call "ideology" (ideas, thought). I believe that I have pretty much figured out just what the critics mean when they use the term, "ideology." Japanese nowadays do name a certain thin, 'ideology,' and even today, after our defeat in war, the term, "ideology," still signifies the same thing it did before the war. During the war, 'this "ideology" got lost somewhere in the shadows, but since the defeat it has proudly pushed itself forward, acting exactly as if it had been a leading actor in the overthrow of the Japanese military clique.

Seen from the point of view of this "ideology," my works probably are 'novels without ideology.' I, however, cannot for a minute believe in an "ideology" which was so utterly lacking in the power to save us from the tragedy of war. Not only do I not believe in it, I can only feel anger and hatred toward such "ideology." Thus, to be told that my novels 'contain no ideology' is rather an honor, given the nature of this "ideology."

I think that my ideology is my own body and that no ideology exists at all beyond one's own body. Thus, while I am aware that I have not yet appropriately captured my own bodyliness as narrative action in my works and that my novels are thus not sufficiently ideological, I do not at all agree that they "contain no ideology." I believe that I can pursue ideology only by pursuing the depths of my own physical body. In fact, it is inconceivable to me that an ideology can even exist without knowledge of one's body.

During the war, I saw that this so-called "ideology," which had forgotten the human body, was unable to restrain or to defy the actions of people who had lost their way. During my long bloody military days, I personally encountered Japanese associated with the grandest "ideology" and the most "respectable" of ideals who had turned into beasts. I too became a beast [it is not clear where Tamura meant that he too committed atrocities or that he had to live like an animal]. Crying pitifully on the battlefield at the impotence of the Japanese people's "ideology," I lamented that I had ever been born a Japanese. I was forced to understand that the established 'ideology' had absolutely no connection with the human body and that it had not a shred of authority over its functioning. After being demobilized, I have felt the same thing. I wonder if 'ideology' has contributed anything at all to the betterment of contemporary Japan, so full as it is of black-marketeering, crime, prostitution, and hunger. The established ideology still spouts to us its threats and time-worn doctrines. The people now, however, reject "ideology."

Today, all that "ideology" does is to attempt to oppress and threaten us. This "ideology" has, for many years, held the Japanese people captive with its strong, bright colors, but now nikutai is openly trying to oppose it. Our distrust of 'ideology' is so complete that the only thing we can believe in is our bodies. Our bodies are the only truth. Pain, desire, anger, ecstasy, agony, and sleep—these are the only things which are real...Only through these can we become aware of the nature of human existence.

It is very fashionable nowadays to say, "I, at least, have no responsibility for our defeat in war." Even if they deceive other people with such talk, can they actually deceive their own spirits? I believe that, in an age such as this, any "ideology" which is not chaotic is not a real ideology. I do not believe people who speak logically in an age such as this. Because of my seven years of army life, I am like a baby and I cannot think logically. I do not believe anybody who speaks logically. I have no faith at all in a soul which does not secretly chew all night long on the tragedy of the defeat in war, a spirit which does not rip open its own flesh, grasp its heart and throw it against the wall, wailing against this great sadness.

Why did we plan such an all-encompassing war? Why did we lose it? There are undoubtedly many reasons. One of the most compelling, however, was this "ideology" of ours which separated itself from the body. What strength can there be in a human character not based in the body? To know the human body is to know the human being.

If by depravity, one means the actual reality of the Japanese people today, then no "depraved literature" has yet appeared. If there were literary works today which captured our reality, that would, I believe, be rather healthy. It seems, however, that there are as yet few novels that do so. I believe that more such stories ought to appear, one after another. The Japanese people today are sincerely building a reality which resembles that of a defeated people. None of our "ideologues" or novelists, however, is an "ideologue" or novelists of a defeated nation [in the words of historian John W. Dower, none had truly "embraced" defeat]. Japanese "ideologues" and novelists are inveterate, unredeemable liars. Because they are such chronic liars, they are not themselves aware that they are liars. It seems that they have not even noticed that we lost the war. Our literature ought to be more like that of a defeated nation; it ought to be more confused, more chaotic, more erotic, and more abandoned. We are a defeated people, and so this naturally must be the case. And if it is not, then this is proof that we are somehow deceiving ourselves. Rather than being conscious deep down in our souls of the awesome fact of our utter defeat in war, we cunningly try to smooth it over with "refinement," much in the way a well-dressed pickpocket slps into others' pockets.

The Japanese people absolutely must embrace their bodies in leisure and freedom and welcome the erotic with open arms. Taking the body as their foundation, they must create a strong, stable humanity...We must, at any rate, become more human as human beings. We must release our bodies: this is the basic condition for building the human spirit. We must free ourselves of the many restrictions which have bound our bodies up to now. We must study the body, breathing naturally like a baby. In doing this, we will surely come to know what the true human being is. We must stop spouting those lies which have bewitched us up to now. I want to become the novelist of a defeated nation, who, in the midst of the terrible upheavals of an ever-bounding reality, can avoid lies and create a genuine transformation within myself.

Keene, Donald. "Dazai Osamu and the Burai-ha." Ch. 25. Dawn to the West: Japanese Literature of the Modern Era/Fiction. New York: Holt, Reinhart and Winston, 1984, 1022-1112.

Kerkham, H. Eleanor. "Pleading for the Body: Tamura Taijirō's 1947 Korean Comfort Woman Story, Shupudin." War, Occupation and Creativity: Japan and East Asia, 1920-1945. Eds. Marlene Mayo and J. Thomas Rimer, with H. Eleanor Kerkham. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2001, 310-359.

Koschmann, J. Victor. Revolution and Subjectivity in Postwar Japan.Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996.

Sakaguchi, Ango. "The Idiot." Modern Japanese Stories. Ed. Ivan Morris. Rutland, VT: Tuttle 1962.

Lippit, Seiji M. "Discourse on Decadence." (Translation of Part One of Sakaguichi Ango's Darakuron, 1946).