Demon of a cartoonist: Fallen war comrades inspire my work
By KENJI FURUDATE, Shukan Asahi
I am an expert on monsters. So I can say that lawmaker Muneo Suzuki is a monster. He can be regarded as the monster called Nezumi-otoko. (The name, which means “rat-man,” belongs to a popular, hedonistic oval-faced monster in the “Ge ge ge no Kitaro” cartoon.) If I draw Nezumi-otoko with a round face and make its character somewhat wily, then it becomes the monster Muneo.
Nezumi-otoko is talkative and grasping. He flatters his superiors and takes an overbearing attitude toward his inferiors. Under certain circumstances, he doesn’t hesitate to betray others. However, we cannot hate him because he is miserably weak, has no definite purpose and never accomplishes exactly what he sets out to do.
On the other hand, Muneo Suzuki always had a clear purpose and was very good at raising a lot of money for himself. However, Suzuki’s failings were exposed and he was repeatedly bashed as a result of his battles with Ms Makiko Tanaka. Muneo House (accommodations built on Kunashiri Island with about 400 million yen in governmental ODA funds) looks like a recreation center. Several of his co-conspirators abandoned him after getting money from him. They also appear to be monsters. Still, I guess Suzuki will never, like Nezumi-otoko, run out of energy. That’s why I can say Suzuki is a monster.
I found out what monsters were when I was a small child. I was born and raised in Sakaiminato, Tottori Prefecture. An old woman called Non non ba worked in my house as a maid. “Non non” means the gods and Buddha in a local dialect. “Non non ba” actually means a religious old woman. She told me vivid stories about a huge wild snake as wide as a barrel and trickster tales about a fox as though she had witnessed them.
During a Bon festival, she lit fires to speed the spirits back to the other world and said, “Please visit us again next year” as if she could see them. It made me think that I, too, would see them when I was grown up.
She took me to her hometown, away from the coast on the Shimane Peninsula. There were so many stone Buddhist images on the mountain paths. When I walked there, I felt as if I’d been there before in a previous life. I sensed that people are born again and I’ve never forgotten that feeling.
I was conscripted into the military in 1943 and sent to Rabaul, Papua New Guinea. It’s a common belief that Rabaul was one great battlefield, but in fact only the center of the island was the site of a hard-fought battle. My unit was sent there. Only two of the 10 of us in my unit survived an ambush by Australian troops. Within six months, most of the other Japanese soldiers there had died in battle. It was at that time that I began to think about fortune and destiny.
One day I saw a crocodile bite into a comrade’s torso. The next day, I saw his bottom half, with the legs still wrapped in puttees, floating in the river. I thought this could also happen to me. In fact, I lost my left arm in a U.S. attack.
I have drawn not only monster cartoons, but also war cartoons. Some people view me as a pacifist but only those who have never been in battle could think so. When I was hurt, I didn’t hate the enemy or bear them any grudges, or even despair. All I could think about was how to endure the pain.
Soldiers from other countries were also in pain. I remember seeing 20 bodies piled four meters high. I didn’t know what it was for or if it was done half in fun, but nobody asked such questions. In the middle of the night, the pile of bodies shook in the wind, but nobody cared.
I draw cartoons naturally. I don’t express anti-war messages or anger about wars. Somebody inspires me to draw cartoons as though I was writing automatically. It is the spirits and I know who they are-my colleagues who passed away in the war.
Recently I decided to live to be 110 years old and believe I can do so. I guess I will continue to draw cartoons when I reach that age. Then I will probably be able to become a monster. I’m looking forward to getting that old.
Shigeru Mizuki is a board member of Minzoku geijutsu gakkai (Society for Ethno-Arts). He was born in Sakaiminato, Tottori Prefecture, in 1922. After entering the military in 1943, he lost his left arm in a battle with U.S. forces in Rabaul, Papua New Guinea, during World War II. He made his debut as a cartoonist with “Rocket Man” in 1958. “Ge ge ge no Kitaro,” his masterpiece, has spawned a variety of popular characters including Kitaro, a good-natured young monster fighting evil monsters trying to bring unhappiness to many people.
Shukan Asahi is a weekly magazine published by The Asahi Shimbun.(IHT/Asahi: July 1,2002)
(07/01)
