Noriko Smiling by Adam Mars-Jones


There is a great deal to like in Adam Mars-Jones’ extended essay on Yasujiro Ozu’s 1949 film Late Spring. Like the renowned benshi narrators who accompanied the virtuoso performances of silent films in Japan’s pre-talkie film era, Mars-Jones steps through Ozu’s film with us from establishing shot to final image. At times he offers almost a frame by frame study pointing up oblique glances or nuanced non-committal grunts from lead actor Chishû Ryû whose import might be lost on a first (or tenth) viewing. This can be illuminating. It makes Noriko Smiling well worth reading by Ozu fans despite whatever other drawbacks may be present in the text.

The book as a whole consists in one long essay that, apart from the scene-by-scene and near-shot-by-shot description, canvasses the wide range of commentary that has been written on Ozu, and Late Spring in particular, by film critics, Japanologists, and even historians of censorship. It is clear that Adam Mars-Jones is well versed in the critical background. But at this point a couple of unfortunate habits of his post-modern essay style come to the fore.

He repeatedly disavows any specialist knowledge, frequently (apparently) undercutting his authority by appealing to Wikipedia and the buzz on Internet to support his points (or to rail against). Sometimes these come in the form of asides, sometimes in the form of explicit (proud?) claims to ignorance. None of them can be taken seriously, and cumulatively they present as a kind of argumentative tic or, since they are clearly deliberate, posturing. The effect is not unlike a famous American academic philosopher from Harvard giving a talk on metaphysics but with an “ah-shucks, I’m just a country boy, y’know” patter. Maybe it works on radio; in print it just looks silly.

The other aspect of the book which, I think, many readers will find distasteful is Mars-Jones’ invariable need to belittle, mock, chastise, and outright dismiss every critic to whom he refers in the course of the essay. That kind of camp snarkiness might work in short doses on BBC Radio 4 (where you can sometimes find Mars-Jones appearing) but in an essay over 200-pages long, it just comes across as shrill.

I said above that these were unfortunate habits. They are unfortunate because they are unnecessary, contributing nothing to Adam Mars-Jones’ eventual interpretive stance, and distracting, since one might well suspect that it is the snide comments that are the real point of writing such an essay. In the end, Mars-Jones has a useful interpretive suggestion for how to read Ozu’s Late Spring. And while I disagree with it, I won’t do him the same disservice that he offers other critics of dismissing it out of hand and then repeatedly mocking the person over the ensuing text. I’ll just let you decide for yourself.

If you can ignore the stylistic dross, then Noriko Smiling is well worth reading, whether or not you ultimately agree with Adam Mars-Jones’ interpretation.

Posted in books, review.

2 Comments

  1. Noriko Smiling by the English journalist and novelist Adam Mars-Jones (AM-J) is a compulsive read, a kind of detective story. Its aim is a plausible interpretation of Yasujiro Ozu’s enigmatic film of 1949, Late Spring. It delivers a feeling for the excellence of the film whilst not being uncritical of its construction and politics. It is an exemplary piece of close reading and of contextualizing. Against AM-J Randy makes two points with which I take issue. First he demurs at AM-J’s disclaimer of expertise. AM-J both is and is not an expert. He lacks academic credentials in film studies and Japanese studies. He displays no love for the academy or its style. This is a characteristic tic of journalists (AMJ reviewed films for The Independent newspaper for ten years). Yet AM-J does the reader a scholarly favour by drawing attention to Sorensen’s 2009 book Censorship of Japanese Films During the U.S. Occupation of Japan. The Cases of Yasujiro Ozu and Akira Kurosawa. Hard to lay hands on, and hugely expensive to buy, it is a fascinating study in the politics of Japan under post war occupation as refracted through the careers and films of Ozu and Kurosawa. It exposes stronger resistance to westernization and much weaker political control than the received view of Donald Richie and those who take his word for it. AM-J clearly learned a lot from Sorenson. Yet he cannot resist telling us that Sorenson does not know what to do with his material. It is exactly because AM-J is not a scholar of either film studies or of Japanese film that he misses the scholarly significance of Sorenson’s challenge to received views.
    Randy also objects to the sharp critical barbs M-J’s directs at others who have written on Late Spring. I don’t deny that M-J is unsparing. He does indeed “belittle, mock, chastise and outright dismiss” most commentary on the film. Unlike Randy, I shamelessly enjoy this British knockabout ad hominem style. It is one of the things that make the TLS, LRB, etc., fun to read. But AMJ’s critical attitude to other writers is usually to the point: their mystification and obtuseness.
    Final comment, a plea to Randy to say more. He doesn’t agree with AM-J’s interpretation of Late Spring and implies his own is different. Great, but why not tell us the content of both: just what is AM-J’s interpretation; what are RM’s criticisms of it; and what interpretation of the film does RM hold?

  2. Hi Ian. Wonderful to hear from you, and thank you for not partaking of the British knockabout ad hominem style you say you shamelessly enjoy.

    I think you’ve demonstrated that AMJ’s disavowal of expertise is merely a rhetorical ploy.

    And I’ll accept your enjoyment of British knockabout if you’ll agree that ad hominem in NB (for example) is typically played for humour and not persuasive argument.

    I like your observation that Noriko Smiling is written like a detective story. Indeed, AMJ doesn’t reveal his key interpretive point until the very end. Without giving away a spoiler, I think I can say that a general principle of interpretation is, or ought to be, simplicity. I think AMJ’s elusive interpretive point needlessly complicates Late Spring. For me, all of the salient points of the story can be accommodated without appeal to AMJ’s speculation.

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