JAPANTHEM: Counter-Cultural Experience, Cross-Cultural Remixes by Jillian Marshall is a work of creative nonfiction/memoir, a spinoff from the author's doctoral thesis in ethnomusicology collecting personal vignettes from fieldwork studying Japanese music and community — traditional, popular, and underground.

Of the three genres examined, popular music seems to be given the least amount of attention whereas the underground scene seems to be where Marshall devotes the most time (at least in the book, if not in actuality). I was particularly engaged by the sections exploring traditional Japanese music, having some informal background in that myself (granted, within a North American rather than strictly Japanese context).

While Japanese music is central to JAPANTHEM, the people and culture associated with that music is the work's true focus — even more specifically, it's Marshall's interpersonal relationships and individual involvement that form the volume's core. Readers more interested in Japanese music than the author's raw personal experiences will likely find the the work frustrating, but it does provide a unique perspective that I appreciated. ( )

While the author's writing is strong, opinionated, and convincing, there are mysteries.

First, with the intro emphatic "En," why not "JAPANTHEN?"

How does "Noise" translate into "Music?"

What came of the "aesthetics of fascism?"

What was the point of not announcing concerts in advance?

Re: "BIG" feet - has the author not heard of the hideous obsessive foot-binding tradition?

Re: "6 ft. 1 inch" - given the obvious Japanese preference for light skin, short , humble, demure non-persons,
what if she was African American attempting the same "research?"

Why does the author prefer to avoid the diversity of America in favor of sexist, racist, anti-dance, anti-height, etc. constraints?

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

What happened to the Nuclear Power Plant while everyone was dropping acid (still - really?)
and living in dirty, cluttered, awful and unhealthy conditions?

Photos are awfully blurry.

Writing about music would be totally enhanced if Links were offered to Traditional, K-Pop,
and Underground choices by Jillian Marshall.

Despite the popularity of artists like Anthony Braxton or Roscoe Mitchell,
there were no Japanese Jazz or New Music artists mentioned.

And, while justifiably blasting the United States for the avoidable atrocities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki,
she does not at all enlighten readers about the absolute barbarity and horror coved by THE GIFT OF RAIN.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Great Quote! "Fruits and Vegetables are a way that the earth communicates with human beings." ( )

I read Japanthem looking for insight into the culture behind some of the experimental music from the late 20th century and early 21st: not for music criticism or band / album reviews, rather an emphasis on the people making & listening to the music, their outlook on life, how music fits into that life. That there was more of that than I'd let myself hope for was a pleasant surprise. And yet, what there was also didn't look like what I'd (not let myself) hope for. I did not track down even one artist or album after reading about it in the book, nor did I get any special insight into any I already admire. The insights on offer were more abstract, more connected to the author's experience and lifeways, and almost wholly unrelated to familiar Japanese artists.

Most memorable was the introduction to Ubon traditional dance; the impact of state laws prohibiting public dancing (directly influencing the underground music scene); and first-hand encounters with hierarchical gender roles, and the ways women in Japan subvert them without seeming to publicly denounce them.

Three Rooms Press promotes the book with emphasis upon contemporary music, but for me of equal import and interest are the roles of dance, language, and food. Marshall's academic research agenda focuses on ethnomusicology, it's true, but her interests and cultural experiences are much broader and organically interwoven with music. ( )

I too, like some reviewers, was expecting a different sort of book based on the blurb. What I got instead was some version of diary/blog/notes/rants, whatever one calls it, of an American woman in Japan who really doesn't like being there that much after all.

I say this with the utmost care. It is doubtless difficult to pull off the attempted format in a way which is both modern and substantial, and I'm happy for the author that she made the attempt. As a reader though, I am obliged to share my frank opinion.

So while I am glad there was not much dry academic material to plough through regarding music, what was left, while not exactly dry, was not that palatable either. Part of the problem was the first chapter. Uneven, too detailed, and coming off as self-congratulatory, it was rough. Once she in IN Japan, Chapter 2 onwards, things get better. But shortly after, there's an entire section on the 'hate' part of her love/hate relationship with the country, and this too drove me to distraction. I was not expecting Pico Iyer-esque originality here, but I was left shaking my head at the rather light editing that went into this work.

If you are in the habit of regularly reading foreigners' memoirs of their experiences in various lands, it may be best to avoid this one. As reviewer sgump has more eloquently pointed out, the central 'authorial persona' is not one that draws you in, compelling you to spend time with her and imagining fondly your own past trips to the said country, or, even better, imagining future trips there simply based on the writing. ( )

Japanthem is a memoir covering the experiences of ethnomusicologist Jillian Marshall during research visits to Japan over a ten-year period. Most of the book is a series of personal “vignettes” lifted from her remarkably chatty doctoral dissertation on contemporary Japanese music. The author’s scope includes three strands of music: traditional music as preserved in the many rituals and festivals still common in Japan; the commercially produced and packaged J-pop; and underground music found in small clubs and occasional raves. Perhaps as a result of culling out the academic babble in the dissertation, what’s left is a memoir of the author’s experiences gathering material, meeting sources, and getting along as a foreigner, with not much insight into the music. It’s not so surprising that she finds living as an alien in a different culture, um, alienating. For a better balance of personal experience and the role of music in a culture, it’s hard to beat Colin McPhee’s A House in Bali, although that’s a high bar. ( )