The Japanese Culture Of Mourning Whales

This book provides an in-depth study of Japanese whaling culture, emphasizing how the Japanese have considered whales and whaling in relation to their understanding of nature and religion. It examines why and how the Japanese have mourned the deaths of whales, treating them as if they were human beings, and assesses the relevance of this culture to nature conservation and management of sustainable use of natural resources. It also sheds new light on Japanese whaling, one of the most controversial issues in the contemporary world, by highlighting the hitherto unknown aspects of Japanese beliefs about whales and whaling, which constitute an integral part of their core concept of how they should coexist with nature. Through cross-examining previous studies of Japanese whaling, as well as analyzing new documents and conducting field research on location, this book presents a comprehensive survey of Japanese whaling culture and memorial rites for whales and offers viable insights on how the Japanese whaling culture can be applied to solving current global issues, including nature conservation, management of sustainable use of natural resources, and protection of wildlife and its habitats.

Japan is often imagined as a nation with a long history of whaling. In this innovative new study, Fynn Holm argues that for centuries some regions in early modern Japan did not engage in whaling. In fact, they were actively opposed to it, even resorting to violence when whales were killed. Resistance against whaling was widespread especially in the Northeast among the Japanese fishermen who worshiped whales as the incarnation of Ebisu, the god of the sea. Holm argues that human interactions with whales were much more diverse than the basic hunter-prey relationship, as cetaceans played a pivotal role in proto-industrial fisheries. The advent of industrial whaling in the early twentieth century, however, destroyed this centuries-long equilibrium between humans and whales. In its place, communities in Northeast Japan invented a new whaling tradition, which has almost completely eclipsed older forms of human-whale interactions. This title is also available as Open Access.

Today, Japan defends its controversial whaling expeditions by invoking tradition--but what was the historical reality? In examining the techniques and impacts of whaling during the Tokugawa period (1603-1868), Jakobina Arch shows that the organized, shore-based whaling that first developed during these years bore little resemblance to modern Japanese whaling. Drawing on a wide range of sources, from whaling ledgers to recipe books and gravestones for fetal whales, she traces how the images of whales and byproducts of commercial whaling were woven into the lives of people throughout Japan. Economically, Pacific Ocean resources were central in supporting the expanding Tokugawa state. In this vivid and nuanced study of how the Japanese people brought whales ashore during the Tokugawa period, Arch makes important contributions to both environmental and Japanese history by connecting Japanese whaling to marine environmental history in the Pacific, including the devastating impact of American whaling in the nineteenth century.

This book gives a social anthropological account of whaling culture in Japan. When originally published this was the first comprehensive account in English of the history of Japanese whaling, showing how it has given rise to a particular culture. The volume discusses what happens when that culture is threatened. At the same time as explaining the work organization of those involved in whaling, the role of whaling companies in local and national economies, and the role of the whale in the establishment and maintenance of local community identity (ritual, food, gift-giving), the authors address the wider political and so-called "environmental" issues surrounding whaling in general, and Japanese whaling in particular.

This book provides a clear and comprehensive introduction to the past, present, and future direction of death rituals and deathcare systems within Japan. As Japan heads toward a precarious future shaped by its super-ageing society, secularisation, and economic stagnation, the socioreligious structures that once organised death and funeral practice are becoming increasingly unstable. In their place, new social structures, technologies, and rituals for the farewell of the dead, handling of cremains, and commemoration of the ancestors have begun to emerge. The work is informed by the authors’ extensive research within Japan’s funeral, cemetery, and memorialisation sectors and the latest Japanese data sources and academic publications, many of which are not currently available in English. Providing readily accessible and contextualising information, this book will be an essential reference for graduate students and academics, as well as international policymakers and deathcare practitioners.

Through an ethnographic study inside Japan’s Buddhist goods industry, this book establishes a method for understanding change in death ritual through attention to the dynamic lifecourse of necromaterials. Deep in the Fukuyama mountainside, “the grave of the graves” (o-haka no haka) houses acres of unwanted headstones—the material remains of Japan’s discarded death rites. In the past, the Japanese dead became venerated ancestors through sustained ritual offerings at graves and at butsudan, Buddhist altars installed inside the home. But in twenty-first-century Japan, this intergenerational system of care is rapidly collapsing. In noisy carpentry studios, flashy funeral-goods showrooms, neglected cemeteries, and cramped kitchens where women prepare memorial feasts, Hannah Gould analyzes the lifecycle of butsudan, illuminating how they are made, circulate through religious and funerary economies, mediate intimate exchanges between the living and the dead, and—as the population ages, families disperse, and fewer homes have space for large lacquer cabinets—eventually fall into disuse. What happens, she asks, when a funerary technology becomes obsolete? And what will take its place? Gould examines new products better suited to urban apartments: miniature urns and sleek altars inspired by Scandinavian design, even reliquary jewelry. She visits an automated columbarium and considers new ritual practices that embrace impermanence. At an industry expo, she takes on the role of “demonstration corpse.” Throughout, Gould invites us to rethink memorialization and describes a distinct form of Japanese necrosociality, one based on material exchanges that seek to both nurture the dead and disentangle them from the world of the living.

Winner of the 2020 Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Nonfiction * Finalist for the 2020 Kirkus Prize for Nonfiction * Finalist for the PEN/E.O. Wilson Literary Science Writing Award A “delving, haunted, and poetic debut” (The New York Times Book Review) about the awe-inspiring lives of whales, revealing what they can teach us about ourselves, our planet, and our relationship with other species. When writer Rebecca Giggs encountered a humpback whale stranded on her local beachfront in Australia, she began to wonder how the lives of whales reflect the condition of our oceans. Fathoms: The World in the Whale is “a work of bright and careful genius” (Robert Moor, New York Times bestselling author of On Trails), one that blends natural history, philosophy, and science to explore: How do whales experience ecological change? How has whale culture been both understood and changed by human technology? What can observing whales teach us about the complexity, splendor, and fragility of life on earth? In Fathoms, we learn about whales so rare they have never been named, whale songs that sweep across hemispheres in annual waves of popularity, and whales that have modified the chemical composition of our planet’s atmosphere. We travel to Japan to board the ships that hunt whales and delve into the deepest seas to discover how plastic pollution pervades our earth’s undersea environment. With the immediacy of Rachel Carson and the lush prose of Annie Dillard, Giggs gives us a “masterly” (The New Yorker) exploration of the natural world even as she addresses what it means to write about nature at a time of environmental crisis. With depth and clarity, she outlines the challenges we face as we attempt to understand the perspectives of other living beings, and our own place on an evolving planet. Evocative and inspiring, Fathoms “immediately earns its place in the pantheon of classics of the new golden age of environmental writing” (Literary Hub).