Shigeru Mizuki: Vision, Art, and the History of Japan
“In our military, soldiers and socks were consumables; a soldier ranked no higher than a cat...in the military hierarchy, soldiers were not even thought of as human beings.”
Long before Shigeru Mizuki was was an iconic cartoonist in Japan. Before his international fame for his manga cartoon “GeGeGe no Kitaro,” he was a foot soldier fighting in World War II. Himself and his battalion were stuck on the pacific island of Rabaul clinging to life. Sick with malaria he’d have died without the help of a tribe of Tolai villagers.
Even more, his arm was mangled after being the lone survivor in an Allied bombing run. His arm was amputated and so too would he try to amputate the memory of the terrible war he was a part of.The barbarity and inhumanity were stitched in his mind forever. Maybe this is why he spent the rest of his life heavily involved in the peace movement.
Through the stories and illustrations in his graphic novels Showa, Mizuki is both cartoonist and historian. He blends his personal WWII narrative in with the larger context of a world at war and a rapidly transforming Japan.
Mizuki vividly portrays nightmarish battles especially while on active duty in the tropical South Pacific Islands. Where the idyllic beaches, turquoise water, and swaying palm trees were darkened by the blood and despair of fallen soldiers.
A recurring theme within his narratives is the Imperial idea of gyokusai, ''the shattering of jade.'' This idea that in the face of defeat every soldier would die before surrender. Final hope would be placed in the kamikaze, ''the wind of the gods.'' Suicide before surrender. Death before dishonor. Mizuki himself was placed a suicide charge unit—a group of soldiers who’d rush the enemy in a final act of war, knowing they’d surely die— only something as bad as an outbreak of malaria saved him from it.
So through his narratives and comics Mizuki weaves themes of camaraderie, futility, isolation and courage with striking realities of starvation, disease, and death. The story building up to the conclusion that war is far more tragic than noble. Far more painful than glorious.
“In our military, soldiers and socks were consumables; a soldier ranked no higher than a cat..in the military hierarchy, soldiers were not even thought of as human beings.”
“Whenever I write a story about the war, I can’t help the blind rage that surges up in me. My guess is, this anger is inspired by the ghosts of all those fallen soldiers.”
These stories of war arouse feelings of anger mingled with empathy for the suffering of others. While reading and researching the Showa series by Mizuki, I came across this little-known Haiku by a Japanese army colonel by the name of Yoshida Kashichi. He was on the front lines of the pacific island Guadalcanal called by the soldiers “the island of starvation.” He and Migeru seem to share an antiwar consciousness that echos through space and time:
No matter how far we walk
We don’t know where we’re going
Trudging along under dark jungle growth
When will this march end?
Hide during the day
Move at night
Deep in the lush Guadalcanal jungle
Our rice is gone
Eating roots and grass
Along the ridges and cliffs
Leaves hide the trail, we lose our way
Stumble and get up, fall and get up
Covered with mud from our falls
Blood oozes from our wounds
No cloth to bind our cuts
Flies swarm to the scabs
No strength to brush them away
Fall down and cannot move
How many times I’ve thought of suicide.
Showa is a powerful epic and at over 2,000 pages an engaging read. Mizuki is an expert at bringing humanity into the war narrative. In his novels, he shows that most soldiers are not heroes or villains. But everyday people are placed in catastrophic situations. People dealing with imminent death, the futility of fighting, and often becoming at home with the darkest parts of the human psyche. It is not often one comes along to blend history and cartoon illustration so expertly as he did.
