The change of seasons is an official holiday in Japan. This Tuesday it will be spring, and schools will be closed.
If that’s not enough for you, however, consider paying attention to Japan’s microseasons: 72 calendar events made by a court astronomer in the 1680s. Shibukawa had never heard of climate change, but would probably have been pleased to know his miniature seasons are still accurate centuries later, despite everything.
March 6th-10th is the microseason 蟄虫啓戸, Sugomori mushito o hiraku, when insects emerge from hibernation. Sure enough last week started gathering on my window screens. Insects here are bigger than in Northeast USA, more numerous and harder to ignore. More beautiful, too, and so difficult to dismiss as mere pests. Every spring by the neighborhood river, assassin beetles burst out of the bark, looking like six-legged piano keys.
The harmless grass spiders are born in the bushes, and in March I watch them weave their first webs. Spiderlings have an ancestral knowledge of how to make webs, called 巣/su, the same word used for a bird’s nest. It’s fascinating to observe the babies, but by summer’s end their webs will be more complex and intricate, proving that even small creatures can learn.
Apologies to arachnophobes. More universally liked are flowers.
Every year come the cherry blossoms forecasts.
You have to see sakura the moment they bloom, because you never know how long they'll stick around for. Some years you’ll get lucky and have a few full weeks of pink. My first year in Japan, they bloomed for mere hours before a thunderstorm came. By the next morning they'd all blown away.
花見, hanami
In spring folks do hanami. ‘Hana’ means flower and ‘mi’ means to see. A hanami is usually a picnic under cherry blossom trees. In the old days people would gather under the flowers to drink and recite poems. These days folks mostly just drink.
葉桜, hazakura
Later in April, the sakura transform into hazakura, which is a special word that describes when the blossoms have fallen from the trees to reveal young leaves.
花筏, hanaikada
When cherry blossoms fall into rivers, they cluster to form hanaikada, literally floral rafts. I love all these flower words.
I found this flower in the woods near the mountains and feel like it's something from a fairytale. It's called shaga or Japanese iris. I showed the picture to my friend. I was like, "Have you ever seen these??" She laughed and pointed to her table. I was sitting right in front of a vase full of them.
Even after the cherry blossoms are gone, there are lots of other flowers to look forward to, especially plum blossoms, chrysanthemum, azaleas, and hydrangea.
Happy spring.
From February to March I attended the annual Japanese Popular Culture & Transmedia Translation Workshop at MSU. Eight professionals working in Japanese > English translation gave talks on everything from how to negotiate freelance rates to manga lettering.
I highly recommend attending next year if you’re interested in translation. It’s virtual, free, and no Japanese language knowledge is required. It was an awesome opportunity and solidified for me my desire to translate.
I can’t summarize everything I learned, but I’ll try to offer some highlights.
How to Translate
Translator Jennifer O’Donnell gave practical lessons on translating, while Katrina Leonoudakis offered a rapid crash course on translation theory. It became clear to me that good translation requires both acquired practical skills and a foundation knowledge of how translation works.
For acquiring practical skills, translator Zack Davisson recommended practice, practice, practice. Before he got started working professionally, he translated a manga series page-by-page on his own, comparing his translation to the published English version. Over time, his translations began to convey not only the surface meaning of the original Japanese, but also retained its tone and emotion.
For acquiring theory knowledge, Jennifer O’Donnell made a list of books that aspiring translators should read.
How to Get Your Foot in the Door?
Zack Davisson talked about the 3 keys: qualifications, networking, and experience. People often focus solely on getting the right degrees or passing the JLPT, and while knowing Japanese is obviously essential, knowing folks, putting your name out there, and proving your worth are immensely important. A degree will not get you through the door.
How to Start?
One way to get started with freelance translation is through Conyac and YAQs. These freelance websites have low pay but also low barrier-to-entry, and they can help you gain experience to put on a resume.
You need to take a translation test for both. While a similar company, Gengo, isn’t accepting J>E translators right now, they’ve outlined how translation tests are evaluated. It’s worth a read. If you need to brush up your English grammar skills, reading their style guide will also help.
You can watch MSU’s post-workshop round table discussion on YouTube.
Speaking of translator Jennifer O’Donnell, she has a Literature in Translation Reading Challenge that you can check out on Instagram.
One translator to read is Emily Balistrieri, whose translation of Tatami Galaxy was nominated for the 2023 PEN Translation Prize! I’m excited to read it soon, and he always posts about other cool books and events on Twitter. Incidentally, Jennifer O’Donnell interviewed him about translation here.
And taking us back to insects real quick: There are so many wonderful nature guidebooks in Japanese, including these two beautiful ones about beetles:
Sam Bett’s translation of Flowers of Buffoonery by Osamu Dazai was just released. It’s a kind of prequel to No Longer Human.
Novelist Oe Kenzaburo passed away recently, and The Economist published an article about him that’s worth reading. An excerpt:
The second world war, which ended when Oe Kenzaburo was ten, coloured his life’s work. When he was a schoolboy his teacher used to ask: “What would you do if the emperor asked you to die?” Each pupil in his class had to answer in turn: “I would cut open my belly and die, sir!”
Mr Oe, who died on March 13th, joined the chorus. But he sensed that something was rotten about it. His grandmother used to tell him subversively humorous anti-nationalist stories. In time, he grew to loathe the emperor-worshipping militarism that led Japan to inflict such horrors on its neighbours and, ultimately, call down such horrors upon itself.
A TV drama based on Ichikawa Takuji’s i-novel is coming out soon.
The Kyoto Writers Residency is calling for applications. You can write in any language. Check it out here.
That’s all for now.
Cheers,
Hannah