Japan (part I): Being in Japan

I have recently returned from a trip to Japan. Just as when I went to Korea, I have come back convinced that I am now the fount of all wisdom about the country. But rather than give you the full "Mysteries of the Land of the Rising Sun"-style thinkpiece, laden with gnomic quotations from Bashō, I will instead provide some helpful and accurate observations about Japan today, and I will do so over the course of a number of posts. (A full set of profound insights is of course available on request through the usual channels.)

I will start with this post, in which I try to give an explanation of what it is like to be in Japan. Subsequent posts will address other topics of interest to people thinking of travelling to Japan or simply interested in the normal topics of this blog.

TL;DR - you should visit Japan. You should visit it now.

On being frozen in time - and on looking forward

The end of a living thing has the effect of bringing equality to every moment in its life. Let me try to explain what I mean.

Think of one of those long prestige TV series. What is it? It is what it is right now: right at this point, series 7 episode 4 or whatever. But, when it ends, no moment within its life is privileged in this way. You might prefer this series or consider its peak to be that episode. But each one of these, for better or worse, is equally what it - the series itself - is.

Or, more seriously, think of a human life. You might have seen someone growing older, weaker, dying. Who are they? What is their condition? An old, weak, dying person, sadly. But after their death, their whole life is equally who they are (or were, if you prefer - it makes no difference to my point). Perhaps you have been to a funeral or memorial service with an order of service adorned by photographs of a much younger, healthier and happier person than the one you knew. And rightly so. That person - the one in their pomp and their prime - is the one you are remembering too.

More significant than even the most CGI'd American TV series, but much less important than a human life, we are, it seems, coming to the end of a government. (Yes, pedants, I know that Parliament has already been dissolved. You know what I mean.) When it has been finally dispatched, it will immediately acquire that quality of temporal indifference that both your great great aunt and Game of Thrones have: there is no "now" to take precedence over the other moments of its existence; it's up to you what you remember of it; and perhaps it's up to history to decide what part of it matters.

The government that is to come will one day have that quality too. It will one day be over and frozen in time. No life - no TV series, even - consists of nothing but high points, and I doubt that anyone claim that either this government is the exception or that the next one will be. But I think all people of goodwill can hope there will be some good episodes to replay, some joyful photos for the albums, for us to take from what is to come.