Once one cuts through the overly-academic writing of this monograph (there were points where I was wondering what the real agenda was here), Hori presents the reader with four essays dealing with the creation of a mass-media environment in Showa Japan, and the process of cultural appropriation that took place as this edifice was created. This is as opposed to the question of how fascist Japanese society became in the course of the 1930s.

One, there is the matter of the public representation of the Japanese emperor, particularly the matter of "The Picture;" the photographic portrait of the emperor that acted as a stand-in for the man's presence, and which was venerated as though the emperor himself was present. This veneration, rather ironically, being demonstrated by NOT looking directly at the image. Hori traces the roots of the modern Japanese media environment to the introduction of this artifact, and then traces the how public behavior was impacted by this new tradition, and the ironies of treating a mass-produced image as being worthy of the sacrifice of the lives of actual people. Whatever the issues I might have with this book, this chapter was worth it for clarifying a cliche of Imperial Japan that really doesn't get explained.

Two and three, there are chapters on films that were marketed at the adult female cinema audience on one hand, and the creation of a Japanese documentary film industry on the other. These mostly exist to play up the avenues of expression women exploited during the period, when they really only thought of by the Japanese official mind as mothers, housekeepers, and unskilled labor.

Four, there is an examination of the rise of the Japanese animation industry, as illustrated by the precocious "Momotaro" films commissioned by the Imperial Japanese Navy. Besides continuing with her preferred topic of cultural interaction and appropriation, Hori does find ways to tie these films back into the cult of the imperial image.

Finally, Hori winds up with the post-war restructuring of the Imperial image as an institution, by dealing with what the famous dual photo portrait of Hirohito and Douglas MacArthur tells us as the mystification of power as a means of gaining consent. To be blunt, Hori believes that there was never enough accountability dealt to the Japanese imperial house for its involvement in the war crimes of the Showa State, and that the goal was to resume the mystification of patriarchal authority as early as possible. This is where the real weakness of this monograph becomes apparent, as a stronger work could have been created if Hori had made it clear that this was her main concern from the outset. Then again, that would mean having a theory of the mobilization state and popular consent, which is relevant to most countries post-1918. ( )