Insectopedia Part 9

Online, Kawasaki Mitsuya calls himself Kuwachan, a sweet name that a parent might give a child who is fond of insects: kuwa kuwa from from kuwagata kuwagata, or stag beetle, and -chan -chan a common diminutive suffix. Across the top of his home page is a brightly colored cartoon of a small boy in full insect-collecting kit. It is Kuwachan as he remembers himself in the 1970s, white hat, hiking boots, water canteen and collecting box slung around his neck, a b.u.t.terfly net grasped like a flag in the breeze, its pole thrust into the earth. Kuwachan the insect-boy, high on a hill, back to the viewer, face upturned to the blue of the sky, arms thrown wide to the world and its possibilities. a common diminutive suffix. Across the top of his home page is a brightly colored cartoon of a small boy in full insect-collecting kit. It is Kuwachan as he remembers himself in the 1970s, white hat, hiking boots, water canteen and collecting box slung around his neck, a b.u.t.terfly net grasped like a flag in the breeze, its pole thrust into the earth. Kuwachan the insect-boy, high on a hill, back to the viewer, face upturned to the blue of the sky, arms thrown wide to the world and its possibilities.

A few days earlier, CJ and I had spent the day in Hakone, a popular spa town in the hills southwest of Tokyo. We were visiting Yoro Takeshi, neuroanatomist, best-selling social commentator, and insect collector. Like Kuwachan, Yoro welcomed us into his home and filled the day with wide-ranging conversation. Yoro is in his late sixties, but he pursues his insects with youthful energy, augmenting his enormous collection with expeditions to Bhutan, chasing weevils as well as the more extravagant elephant beetles. When CJ and I arrived at his house, he was examining a set of burnt-orange p.e.n.i.ses from type specimens on loan from the Natural History Museum in London, using his state-of-the-art microscopes and monitors to reveal species-defining morphological differences that made me wonder about human limitations that had never previously crossed my mind.

Like Kuwachan, Yoro has loved insects since he was a child. Like Kuwachan, he told us that they affected him profoundly. After collecting for so many years, he now has "mushi eyes," bug eyes, and sees everything in nature from an insect's point of view. Each tree is its own world, each leaf is different. Insects taught him that general nouns like eyes," bug eyes, and sees everything in nature from an insect's point of view. Each tree is its own world, each leaf is different. Insects taught him that general nouns like insects, trees, leaves insects, trees, leaves, and especially nature nature destroy our sensitivity to detail. They make us conceptually as well as physically violent. "Oh, an insect," we say, seeing only the category, not the being itself. destroy our sensitivity to detail. They make us conceptually as well as physically violent. "Oh, an insect," we say, seeing only the category, not the being itself.

Shortly after returning to Tokyo, CJ and I came across this photograph, evidence that Yoro, like Kuwachan, was once an insect-boy, a konchu-shonen. konchu-shonen. There he is on the right, resolutely setting off into the hills of Kamakura soon after the Second World War, a time of devastation and hunger, but a time nonetheless of adolescent exploration and freedom. There he is on the right, resolutely setting off into the hills of Kamakura soon after the Second World War, a time of devastation and hunger, but a time nonetheless of adolescent exploration and freedom.

We met Yoro at his newly built weekend home, a quirky barnlike construction designed by the "Surrealist architect" Fujimori Terun.o.bu that-with its strip of meadow sprouting from the apex of the roof-suggests both Anne of Green Gables Anne of Green Gables and and The Jetsons. The Jetsons. The house reminded us of those out-of-joint structures that populate The house reminded us of those out-of-joint structures that populate Spirited Away, Howl's Moving Castle Spirited Away, Howl's Moving Castle, and other epic animations by Hayao Miyazaki, structures that fill an elaborate universe that is somewhere and some when unknown but still somehow instantly familiar.

The connections were not accidental. It emerged that not only are Yoro Takeshi and Hayao Miyazaki close friends but that Miyazaki, too, cultivates a pa.s.sion for insects that began with a childhood as a konchu-shonen. konchu-shonen. What's more, it seems Miyazaki also enjoys collaborating with avant-garde architects. He and the artist-architect Arakawa Shusaku have drawn up plans for a utopian town whose houses are not unlike the one in Hakone to which Yoro gets away from the city and in which he keeps his insects. Theirs is a distinctly hippie vision of social engineering, motivated by some of the same worries about alienation and some of the same yearnings for community that preoccupy Kuwachan. Theirs is a town where children can escape what all of these men see as the profound estrangement of j.a.pan's media-saturated society and where they can rediscover a golden childhood of play, experimentation, and exploration in nature, where children-and adults too-can learn (again) to see, feel, and develop their senses. What's more, it seems Miyazaki also enjoys collaborating with avant-garde architects. He and the artist-architect Arakawa Shusaku have drawn up plans for a utopian town whose houses are not unlike the one in Hakone to which Yoro gets away from the city and in which he keeps his insects. Theirs is a distinctly hippie vision of social engineering, motivated by some of the same worries about alienation and some of the same yearnings for community that preoccupy Kuwachan. Theirs is a town where children can escape what all of these men see as the profound estrangement of j.a.pan's media-saturated society and where they can rediscover a golden childhood of play, experimentation, and exploration in nature, where children-and adults too-can learn (again) to see, feel, and develop their senses.2 Kawasaki, Yoro, and Miyazaki were only the first of many insect boys that CJ and I encountered in j.a.pan. It seemed that wherever we went, we met konchu-shonen konchu-shonen, both large and small. We came across a famous one in Takarazuka, the home of the celebrated all-women theater company, with its long-lasting idols and ma.s.s following of devoted female fans. We couldn't get tickets to a performance, but no matter. We were in town for another attraction, the Tezuka Osamu Manga Museum, a perfect small museum dedicated to the life and work of the acknowledged G.o.d of manga (and innovator in anime), who died in 1989.

If Miyazaki is the current superstar of anime, Tezuka was the artistic genius who used the narrative techniques of cinema to transform the printed page, creating a dizzyingly kinetic comic-book form that accommodates every conceivable subject matter and emotion. He, too, was a pa.s.sionate insect collector, so pa.s.sionate that he named his first company Mushi Productions, incorporated a cute version of the Sino-j.a.panese character for the word mushi mushi into his signature, and populated his stories with b.u.t.terfly-people, erotic moths, beetle robots, and endlessly varied metamorphoses and rebirths. Sure enough, there was Tezuka fully decked out as Insect Boy in the museum's introductory video, ready for adventure, an early intimation of Astro Boy, the android superhero who is still one of Tezuka's most marketable creations (and who, in the intricate, multiauth.o.r.ed ways of such creativity was, Tezuka recalled, inspired by Walt Disney's Jiminy Cricket-a different kind of insect-human). into his signature, and populated his stories with b.u.t.terfly-people, erotic moths, beetle robots, and endlessly varied metamorphoses and rebirths. Sure enough, there was Tezuka fully decked out as Insect Boy in the museum's introductory video, ready for adventure, an early intimation of Astro Boy, the android superhero who is still one of Tezuka's most marketable creations (and who, in the intricate, multiauth.o.r.ed ways of such creativity was, Tezuka recalled, inspired by Walt Disney's Jiminy Cricket-a different kind of insect-human).

"This place was a s.p.a.ce station, a secret jungle for explorers to discover," Tezuka's text reads; in the background melodic harpsichords and the chirps of birds and crickets. It was "an infinity where imagination could expand forever." The sky is a dreamlike azure; the boys are in sepia. As the images floated by, CJ translated: "I was bullied as a child and thrust into war. I cannot say everything was great, and I don't want to dwell in the past. But looking back now, I'm grateful to have been surrounded by so much nature. My experience of running freely in mountains, rivers, and meadows and of the insect collecting in which I was so absorbed gave me unforgettable memories and imbued in me a feeling of nostalgia as a deep part of my body and my heart."

Tezuka won't dwell in the past, but he won't give up that longing either, the sweet-sad pleasure that feeds on the impossibility of erasing the distance between me then and me now. It's an absence easy to reproduce: easy as an azure sky and two sepia boys. It's an absence easy to fill, too, if not with a mail-order kuwagata kuwagata then with an afternoon spent then with an afternoon spent mushi mushi hunting. hunting.

CJ and I shade our eyes as we step out of the insect museum in Minoo Park, the same park where Tezuka the konchu-shonen konchu-shonen first collected insects with his sepia friends. Here, all around us, under the bluest sky, are living families, here in the here and now, fathers and sons (and a few women and girls also, although they rarely show up in the memories or longings of first collected insects with his sepia friends. Here, all around us, under the bluest sky, are living families, here in the here and now, fathers and sons (and a few women and girls also, although they rarely show up in the memories or longings of konchu-shonen konchu-shonen). Here they are in the bright afternoon sun, fully equipped konchu-shonen konchu-shonen, spread out along the shallow river, searching for bugs-water striders, water boatmen, crabs, too-serious but happy, balanced on rocks, dipping toes into the cool water, splashing around, emptying nets, showing their grown-ups what they've found (not much, as it's too early in the summer).

The children are collecting specimens for their school summer projects, and their fathers are there to help them, also in shorts and hats, also holding the nets and buckets, which they got for 2,000 (U.S.$20), a price that includes a lab session at which anything they find can be pinned, ID'd according to the full-color zukan zukan (field guide), and turned into a specimen. It's a sunny day of (field guide), and turned into a specimen. It's a sunny day of kazoku service kazoku service, family service. A day to fulfill the promise of Kuwachan's poems, a day for boys to use their nets to catch the memories for a lifetime and men to learn again how to be fathers as they relive what it felt like to be a son.

And speaking of fathers and sons, here is one more insect-boy. He's standing with the inflatable rhinoceros beetle that his father just bought for him at the summer festival. They're on their way home, late at night outside the Minowa metro station in northeast Tokyo, a boy and his father under the streetlights, stopping to chat with a stranger and pose for a photo.

That's just camera shake during a long exposure. But it's as if he's hardly there. The little boy with his giant kabutomushi. kabutomushi. He's melting into the lights, already inaccessible, already an object of desire, longing, and regret. He's melting into the lights, already inaccessible, already an object of desire, longing, and regret.

CJ and I were here in j.a.pan to find out about the two-decade-old craze for breeding, raising, and keeping stag beetles and rhinoceros beetles. We'd prepared in the usual way: by spending too much time Googling j.a.panese insect sites (of which there are many) and by talking to friends and reading the books and articles they recommended. By the time we met up in Tokyo, we knew that as well as generating widespread excitement, these big, shiny beetles so reminiscent of the chunky j.a.panese robot toys that swept the United States in the mid-1980s were also creating considerable anxiety among ecologists and conservationists and in j.a.pan's venerable insect-collecting community.

But what we hadn't realized was the extent to which this beetle boom was part of a much larger phenomenon. Those konchu-shonen konchu-shonen were a symptom. In our three weeks traveling in Tokyo and the Kansai region around Osaka, both of us were openmouthed at the abundance and diversity of human-insect life. Returning to Tokyo after four years in California, CJ-my research friend, translator, and up-for-anything traveling companion-confessed that although he must have lived most of his life in the midst of this insect world, he'd never really seen it before. were a symptom. In our three weeks traveling in Tokyo and the Kansai region around Osaka, both of us were openmouthed at the abundance and diversity of human-insect life. Returning to Tokyo after four years in California, CJ-my research friend, translator, and up-for-anything traveling companion-confessed that although he must have lived most of his life in the midst of this insect world, he'd never really seen it before.

Because insects were everywhere! It was insect culture insect culture, something I'd never imagined. Insects had infiltrated a vast swath of everyday life. CJ and I pored over super-glossy hobby magazines with their beetle glamour spreads, spoof advice columns, and colorful accounts of exotic collecting expeditions. We studied pocket-size exhibitions and read xeroxed newsletters from suburban insect-lovers' clubs. We visited the geek-tech-culture otaku otaku stalls in Akihabara, Tokyo's Electric City, and found pricey plastic beetles on sale alongside maid and Lolita fetish figurines. We ducked under low-hanging subway-car posters for stalls in Akihabara, Tokyo's Electric City, and found pricey plastic beetles on sale alongside maid and Lolita fetish figurines. We ducked under low-hanging subway-car posters for MushiKing MushiKing, Sega's warring-beetle trading-card and videogame phenomenon, and we watched kids battling one another with controlled intensity at the MushiKing MushiKing consoles in city-center department stores. We bought soft drinks in convenience stores hoping for the free Fabre collectibles that came with them. We explored some of the scores of insectaria throughout the country and gaped at the gla.s.s-and-steel grandeur of the b.u.t.terfly houses, monuments of the 1990s' bubble economy but also testament to a popular pa.s.sion. We sat in smoke-filled coffee shops and on air-conditioned bullet trains reading the insect-themed serials in the biweekly ma.s.s-circulation manga anthologies ( consoles in city-center department stores. We bought soft drinks in convenience stores hoping for the free Fabre collectibles that came with them. We explored some of the scores of insectaria throughout the country and gaped at the gla.s.s-and-steel grandeur of the b.u.t.terfly houses, monuments of the 1990s' bubble economy but also testament to a popular pa.s.sion. We sat in smoke-filled coffee shops and on air-conditioned bullet trains reading the insect-themed serials in the biweekly ma.s.s-circulation manga anthologies (Insectival Crime Investigator Fabre, Professor Osamushi), a legacy not only of Tezuka's insect obsession but also of other manga pioneers, including Leiji Matsumoto, famous for his hyper-detailed drawings of future technology (cities, s.p.a.ceships, robots-insects made metal). We YouTubed Kuwagata Tsumami Kuwagata Tsumami, a cartoon for young kids about the super-cute mixed-species daughter of a kuwagata kuwagata father and a human mother (don't ask!). We visited the country's oldest entomological store, Shiga Konchu f.u.kyu-sha, in Shibuya, Tokyo, which sells professional collecting equipment of its own design-collapsible b.u.t.terfly nets, handcrafted wooden specimen boxes-of a quality to rival any in the world. We read about (but couldn't get to) the officially designated father and a human mother (don't ask!). We visited the country's oldest entomological store, Shiga Konchu f.u.kyu-sha, in Shibuya, Tokyo, which sells professional collecting equipment of its own design-collapsible b.u.t.terfly nets, handcrafted wooden specimen boxes-of a quality to rival any in the world. We read about (but couldn't get to) the officially designated hotaru hotaru (firefly) towns, whose residents strive to capture the charisma of bioluminescence, to build a local tourist trade, and to pull in conservation funding as riverine habitats decline and firefly populations dwindle. (And, if we forgot the allure of the firefly, we were reminded every evening by the strains of "Hotaru no Hikari," "The Light of Fireflies," broadcast at closing time in stores and museums, a song about a poor fourth-century Chinese scholar studying by the light of a bag of fireflies, a song that every j.a.panese person seems to know, set to a tune-"Auld Lang Syne"-that every British person knows too.) (firefly) towns, whose residents strive to capture the charisma of bioluminescence, to build a local tourist trade, and to pull in conservation funding as riverine habitats decline and firefly populations dwindle. (And, if we forgot the allure of the firefly, we were reminded every evening by the strains of "Hotaru no Hikari," "The Light of Fireflies," broadcast at closing time in stores and museums, a song about a poor fourth-century Chinese scholar studying by the light of a bag of fireflies, a song that every j.a.panese person seems to know, set to a tune-"Auld Lang Syne"-that every British person knows too.) Of course, we took any opportunity we could to talk to people in the neighborhood insect pet stores, which were packed to the rafters with live kuwagata kuwagata and and kabutomushi kabutomushi in Perspex boxes and with the numerous products marketed for their care (dry food, supplements, mattresses, medicine, and so on), often in cute in Perspex boxes and with the numerous products marketed for their care (dry food, supplements, mattresses, medicine, and so on), often in cute kawaii kawaii packaging depicting funny little bugs with big, emotion-filled eyes acting out in funny little poses. And we also saw the much sadder boxes in department stores crammed with too many too-agitated big beetles and skinny packaging depicting funny little bugs with big, emotion-filled eyes acting out in funny little poses. And we also saw the much sadder boxes in department stores crammed with too many too-agitated big beetles and skinny suzumushi suzumushi bell crickets, all on sale at rock-bottom prices. One late night we stumbled upon a display of live beetles in a gla.s.s box in the lobby of a suburban train station, an encounter made surreal by the silence of the hour, the insistent sound of the animals' scratching, and the realization that they, we, and the battering moths were the only living beings on hand. Should we liberate them? We wanted to visit a bell crickets, all on sale at rock-bottom prices. One late night we stumbled upon a display of live beetles in a gla.s.s box in the lobby of a suburban train station, an encounter made surreal by the silence of the hour, the insistent sound of the animals' scratching, and the realization that they, we, and the battering moths were the only living beings on hand. Should we liberate them? We wanted to visit a mushiokuri mushiokuri festival to see how the driving out of the insects from the rice paddies-banned by the Meiji government in the early twentieth century as anti-scientific superst.i.tion-was being revived as a rural tradition in an ever-urbanizing, ever-reflective nation, but the closest event (at Iwami, overlooking the Sea of j.a.pan in Shimane Prefecture) was just too far, given everything else we were cramming in, and the festival to see how the driving out of the insects from the rice paddies-banned by the Meiji government in the early twentieth century as anti-scientific superst.i.tion-was being revived as a rural tradition in an ever-urbanizing, ever-reflective nation, but the closest event (at Iwami, overlooking the Sea of j.a.pan in Shimane Prefecture) was just too far, given everything else we were cramming in, and the mushiokuri mushiokuri became another of those items we failed to cross off our to-do list. became another of those items we failed to cross off our to-do list.

Knowing our interests, everyone was keen to tell us about j.a.panese insect love. Look around you! Where else are fireflies, dragonflies, crickets, and beetles so esteemed? Did you know that the ancient name for j.a.pan, Akitsu-shima, means "Dragonfly Island"? Have you heard "Aka Tombo," the Red Dragonfly song? Did you know that in the Edo period, the time of the Tokugawa shogunate, people would visit certain special places (Ochanomizu, in downtown Tokyo, was one) just to bask in the songs of their crickets or the lights of their fireflies? Did you read the cla.s.sical literature? The eighth-century Man'yo-shu Man'yo-shu has seven poems about singing insects. The great cla.s.sics of the Heian period, the has seven poems about singing insects. The great cla.s.sics of the Heian period, the Pillow Book Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon and Murasaki Shikibu's of Sei Shonagon and Murasaki Shikibu's Tale of Genji Tale of Genji contain b.u.t.terflies, fireflies, mayflies, and crickets. Crickets are a symbol of autumn. Their songs are inseparable from the melancholy of life's transience. Cicadas are a sound of summer. Do you know haiku? Basho wrote, "The silence; / The voice of the cicadas / penetrates the rocks." contain b.u.t.terflies, fireflies, mayflies, and crickets. Crickets are a symbol of autumn. Their songs are inseparable from the melancholy of life's transience. Cicadas are a sound of summer. Do you know haiku? Basho wrote, "The silence; / The voice of the cicadas / penetrates the rocks."3 Do you know "The Lady Who Loved Worms"? She was the world's first entomologist. A twelfth-century entomologist! You know she was the inspiration for Miyazaki's famous Princess Nausicaa? Do you know Kawabata Yasunari's beautiful story of the gra.s.shopper and the bell cricket? It's just a wisp of memory held together by two tiny insects. Have you read Koizumi Yak.u.mo's writings on j.a.panese insects? Maybe you know him as Lafcadio Hearn? He had a British father but worked in America as a journalist. He became a j.a.panese citizen and died here in 1904. In his famous essay on cicadas, he wrote, "The Wisdom of the East hears all things. And he that obtains it will hear the speech of insects." Do you know "The Lady Who Loved Worms"? She was the world's first entomologist. A twelfth-century entomologist! You know she was the inspiration for Miyazaki's famous Princess Nausicaa? Do you know Kawabata Yasunari's beautiful story of the gra.s.shopper and the bell cricket? It's just a wisp of memory held together by two tiny insects. Have you read Koizumi Yak.u.mo's writings on j.a.panese insects? Maybe you know him as Lafcadio Hearn? He had a British father but worked in America as a journalist. He became a j.a.panese citizen and died here in 1904. In his famous essay on cicadas, he wrote, "The Wisdom of the East hears all things. And he that obtains it will hear the speech of insects."4 (And a few days later, over coffee in downtown Tokyo, Ok.u.moto Daizaburo, literature professor, insect collector, and Fabre promoter, paraphrases his own book and rather sourly, though perhaps not unfairly, says of Hearn, the unashamed j.a.panophile and Orientalist who was also the translator of the definitive version of Flaubert's (And a few days later, over coffee in downtown Tokyo, Ok.u.moto Daizaburo, literature professor, insect collector, and Fabre promoter, paraphrases his own book and rather sourly, though perhaps not unfairly, says of Hearn, the unashamed j.a.panophile and Orientalist who was also the translator of the definitive version of Flaubert's Temptation of Saint Anthony Temptation of Saint Anthony, "No one can find in others what they lack in themselves.") Please go to Nara! You must visit the Tamamushi-no-zushi shrine in the ancient Horyuji Temple. It was constructed in the sixth century from 9,000 scarab beetle carapaces!

These last suggestions came from Sugiura Tetsuya, an erudite and energetic docent volunteering at the Kashihara City Insectarium not far from Nara and its many ancient temples. In his younger days, Sugiura told us, he collected b.u.t.terflies in Nepal and Brazil. Recently, he had donated his specimens to the insectarium in which he worked, where, as he pointed out, he was able to see them whenever he wished. He would, he said, have preferred to send them to a bigger and better-attended facility, like one of the Tokyo zoos-Ueno or, more likely, Tama, with its huge b.u.t.terfly-shaped insectarium-but neither, disappointingly, had the capacity to accept donations.

It turned out it was Sugiura Tetsuya himself who had suggested the insect museum and b.u.t.terfly house to the mayor of Kashihara when the plan for an aquarium turned out too expensive. He was kind enough to spend the entire afternoon explaining the museum's extensive collection to us and later sent a package to me in New York with a selection of Hearn's insect writings along with articles on many ancient items of interest, including one describing an elaborate insect box and other objects finished with lac-the resinous secretion of scale insects-that had been placed in the Shosoin, the Imperial Repository, near the Todaiji Temple in Nara in A.D. A.D. 756 and immaculately preserved to this day. 756 and immaculately preserved to this day.

In the final room of the museum, after our exhaustive tour, Sugiura-san stopped at a case doc.u.menting the insect cuisine of Thailand and told us how j.a.panese visitors, schoolchildren especially, are disgusted by this display and how they exclaim over the primitive habits of the Thais. I remember quite clearly, he continued with no change of expression, how I used to go into the mountains with my cla.s.smates after the war to collect locusts, which we would bring back to school and boil with shoyu. We also ate boiled silkworm larvae in those days, he said, and stopped only when the silk industry declined in the 1960s and the supply of insects dried up. It was hard-times food, but it was good food. It was part of our cuisine, but you would never know that now. It was the culture of the popular cla.s.ses, he said, a culture rarely recorded and always forgotten.

Sugiura Tetsuya had his doubts about the fashion for kuwagata kuwagata and and kabutomushi. kabutomushi. He was happy to see so many children and families coming to Kashihara; he knew their enthusiasm was sparked by pet beetles and the runaway success of He was happy to see so many children and families coming to Kashihara; he knew their enthusiasm was sparked by pet beetles and the runaway success of MushiKing MushiKing, and he didn't want to discourage them. But like most collectors and insectarium people we met, he was anxious. Yes, he agreed, the excitement over stag beetles and rhinoceros beetles was an expression of (and a stimulus to) the national enthusiasm for insects. But it brought problems all its own.

Nearby, at the Itami City Insectarium in Hyogo Prefecture, CJ and I stumbled onto an "insect carnival." Upstairs in the nature-study library, a crowd of high-spirited children and adults was creating some impressively complicated insect origami. We stopped at the "Befriend a c.o.c.kroach" table to learn how to handle the large live animals (stroke their backs gently, then pick them up carefully between thumb and forefinger and set them in your palm). All around, the walls were papered with exhibits by local insect-lovers' clubs: spreads from their newsletters, ill.u.s.trated reports of environmental challenges met and often overcome, photos from field trips that showed smiling club members (varied in their ages but united in their enthusiasm).

Downstairs, the staff had given pride of place to kuwagata kuwagata and and kabutomushi. kabutomushi. But they had also set free their psychedelic imagination. CJ read off the t.i.tles from the cases: "Wonderful Insects of the World," "Strange Insects of the World," "Beautiful Insects of the World," "Ninja Insects of the World." And across the room, "Surprising Insects of the Kansai Region." The Beautiful Insects formed an intricate mandala; the Ninja Insects (characterized by skillful camouflage) disguised themselves as a tiki mask; in one display, two tiny leaf bugs were dressed up in paper kimonos; in another, a host of gorgeous blue morpho b.u.t.terflies floated between gla.s.s, spotlit to magnify their irridescence. Hard not to love this place, we agreed. Part science center, part art museum, part amus.e.m.e.nt park. A place to celebrate our inner insect. But they had also set free their psychedelic imagination. CJ read off the t.i.tles from the cases: "Wonderful Insects of the World," "Strange Insects of the World," "Beautiful Insects of the World," "Ninja Insects of the World." And across the room, "Surprising Insects of the Kansai Region." The Beautiful Insects formed an intricate mandala; the Ninja Insects (characterized by skillful camouflage) disguised themselves as a tiki mask; in one display, two tiny leaf bugs were dressed up in paper kimonos; in another, a host of gorgeous blue morpho b.u.t.terflies floated between gla.s.s, spotlit to magnify their irridescence. Hard not to love this place, we agreed. Part science center, part art museum, part amus.e.m.e.nt park. A place to celebrate our inner insect.

Just before "Hotaru no Hikari" rang out for closing time, we b.u.mped into a museum guide and a curator in the hallway. They talked the same language as Sugiura, found themselves caught in the same contradictions. The emphasis on the spectacular imported insects made them uneasy. But they felt compelled to promote those big foreign species even though they believed that doing so placed j.a.panese beetles in peril.

Some backstory is in order here. The right person to tell it is Iijima Kazuhiko, who works at Mushi-sha, the largest and best known of Tokyo's many insect stores. Most of these are pet stores, overflowing with beetles and the paraphernalia needed to keep them. Most cater to elementary school boys, their indulgent (or perhaps long-suffering) mothers, and a smaller number of middle-aged men who buy the more expensive animals. Most of the stores have appeared since 1999, the year the current beetle boom really took off.

But Mushi-sha, Iijima Kazuhiko explained, doesn't quite fit this profile. It reaches across two insect worlds, joining the preteen MushiKing MushiKing fans to the scholarly collectors like Sugiura Tetsuya and Yoro Takeshi. Since it opened its doors, in 1971, the store has continually published fans to the scholarly collectors like Sugiura Tetsuya and Yoro Takeshi. Since it opened its doors, in 1971, the store has continually published Gekkan-mushi Gekkan-mushi ( (Insect Monthly), a respected entomology journal, and has sold specimens, boxes, and collecting tools. In those early days, its customers were serious amateurs and professional entomologists, konchu-shonen konchu-shonen old and young who were building collections primarily by catching their own insects. old and young who were building collections primarily by catching their own insects.

It was in the 1980s that Mushi-sha began selling live animals. Back then, Iijima told us, it was ookuwagata ookuwagata, the large j.a.panese stag beetles that Kuwachan breeds, that were in demand. They had become difficult to find in urban areas but were still easily available in the countryside, and it was commonplace there for children to keep them as pets. Some stag beetles lived in the mountains, mostly in Osaka, Saga, and Yamanashi Prefectures. But most made their homes close to villages, in satoyama satoyama, the patches of forest that people managed for mushrooms, edible plants, timber, compost, and charcoal, among other useful goods.5 Over time, the burned and coppiced charcoal trees came to look like dark k.n.o.bs, Iijima said, and it was in the holes in those trees that the Over time, the burned and coppiced charcoal trees came to look like dark k.n.o.bs, Iijima said, and it was in the holes in those trees that the kuwagata kuwagata lived. lived. Kuwagata Kuwagata were at home in were at home in satoyama satoyama, he told us, because they like being close to humans.

Iijima explained that the kuwagata kuwagata and and kabutomushi kabutomushi boom of the 1980s was stimulated by an increased supply of insects to the cities at a time of high disposable income, before the collapse of the bubble economy. Recognizing the signs of urban demand and developing more effective trapping techniques, villagers brought beetles to Tokyo from the countryside, selling them to department stores and pet shops. Some urban enthusiasts went the other way, deepening their hobby by traveling to the country to catch beetles themselves (and plant the seeds of the informal network of rural inns that now advertise their services as beetle-hunting bases). Others became interested in breeding beetles. Both larvae and adult beetles were available to buy and hobbyists started investing their time in developing techniques for raising bigger animals. This shift to breeding was a significant innovation, said Iijima. Even though back then no one managed to raise beetles as large as the ones found in boom of the 1980s was stimulated by an increased supply of insects to the cities at a time of high disposable income, before the collapse of the bubble economy. Recognizing the signs of urban demand and developing more effective trapping techniques, villagers brought beetles to Tokyo from the countryside, selling them to department stores and pet shops. Some urban enthusiasts went the other way, deepening their hobby by traveling to the country to catch beetles themselves (and plant the seeds of the informal network of rural inns that now advertise their services as beetle-hunting bases). Others became interested in breeding beetles. Both larvae and adult beetles were available to buy and hobbyists started investing their time in developing techniques for raising bigger animals. This shift to breeding was a significant innovation, said Iijima. Even though back then no one managed to raise beetles as large as the ones found in satoyama satoyama or the mountains, many people took up the challenge. Not surprisingly, it was in these years of growth-both in the economy and in the pa.s.sion for beetles-that most of the country's insectaria opened. or the mountains, many people took up the challenge. Not surprisingly, it was in these years of growth-both in the economy and in the pa.s.sion for beetles-that most of the country's insectaria opened.

The real estate boom that swept j.a.pan in those years transformed the countryside. As demand for charcoal fell and brick replaced timber in home construction, the maintenance of managed forest declined; as housing developments expanded, satoyama satoyama retreated. By the early 1990s, it was challenging even for local people to find large stag beetles in the wild. For most visitors from the city, it was far harder. Prices of wild insects soared. Yet by this point there was a thriving subculture of beetle breeders throughout the country-amateur experts like Kuwachan who succeeded in mapping the life cycles and habits of the popular species and in developing and circulating sophisticated yet easily replicated techniques for raising large animals from eggs. retreated. By the early 1990s, it was challenging even for local people to find large stag beetles in the wild. For most visitors from the city, it was far harder. Prices of wild insects soared. Yet by this point there was a thriving subculture of beetle breeders throughout the country-amateur experts like Kuwachan who succeeded in mapping the life cycles and habits of the popular species and in developing and circulating sophisticated yet easily replicated techniques for raising large animals from eggs.6 It was a complex story, but Iijima Kazuhiko was a patient narrator. Like everyone we met in Mushi-sha, he was young, friendly, knowledgeable about all aspects of the business, and serious about insects. We were standing at the back of the store, in front of a large, indexed cabinet full of high-quality specimens from around the world and beside tall stacks of Gekkan-mushi Gekkan-mushi, Be-kuwa!, Kuwagata Magazine Be-kuwa!, Kuwagata Magazine, and other glossy and expensive specialist publications. On all sides were shelves of Perspex containers holding male and female kuwagata kuwagata and and kabutomushi kabutomushi of varying sizes and prices. From behind the counter Iijima pulled out a large foam-lined case. Inside-huge, soft bodied, and defenseless, motionless on its back-was a metamorphosed beetle pupa. It was a male of varying sizes and prices. From behind the counter Iijima pulled out a large foam-lined case. Inside-huge, soft bodied, and defenseless, motionless on its back-was a metamorphosed beetle pupa. It was a male Dynastes hercules Dynastes hercules, the largest of the rhinoceros beetles, recorded as growing to just over seven inches, and worth well over U.S. $1,000. A small group of admiring customers gathered to look.

In the 1990s, continued Iijima after returning the case, there were three types of enthusiasts. There were those who went to the mountains to hunt beetles; they were working in the tradition of the old-time collectors, but it was, of course, much harder now for them to find insects. Then there were those, usually schoolboys, who purchased inexpensive live beetles and kept them as pets. Finally, there were those who bought larvae or adult pairs and bred them as a hobby or for sale, often trying to set the record for the largest individual of the particular species. Indeed, he said, by that point it was much easier to breed kuwagata kuwagata and and kabutomushi kabutomushi than to catch them. than to catch them.

Despite (and because of) the decline in wild beetles and the destruction of their habitat, beetle keeping and raising was thriving. Mushi-sha was at the center of a lively entrepreneurial culture serving both a new generation of insect fans and an aging but rejuvenated cadre of experts. When CJ and I met Ok.u.moto Daizaburo a few days later, he readily took on the task of explaining why it was that all this insect love existed here in j.a.pan. Professor Ok.u.moto used arguments we had heard from other insect people, arguments that described a uniquely caring j.a.panese relationship with nature and drew on nihonjinron nihonjinron, the persistent ideology of j.a.panese exceptionalism, which, like many nationalisms, is based on a belief in a unified national population possessing a unique transhistorical essence.7 The beetle boom, Ok.u.moto said, was just one piece of a special national affinity for nature. He talked about the high species endemism of the country's island ecosytem and how this unusual variety of animals and plants, and of insects in particular, produced an exceptional sensitivity among the human population. He talked about earthquakes and typhoons and how these too-familiar events created a visceral awareness of the surrounding environment. He talked about the role of animism, Shintoism, and Buddhism in creating an intimate environmental ethic that still pervades j.a.panese daily life despite the decline in overt religious practice. He talked about the audiologist Tsunoda Tadan.o.bu's controversial research in the 1970s, which suggested that j.a.panese brains are singularly attuned to natural sounds, including cricket song.8 He talked about the extraordinary expressions of high cultural attachment to insects in literature and painting. And borrowing my notebook, he drew a diagram-a schematic representation of an ideal j.a.panese life, which CJ later annotated for me. He talked about the extraordinary expressions of high cultural attachment to insects in literature and painting. And borrowing my notebook, he drew a diagram-a schematic representation of an ideal j.a.panese life, which CJ later annotated for me.

It was an ideal man's ideal life, timeless but cla.s.sical, the ideal life of a scholar or n.o.bleman. Professor Ok.u.moto offered it as a sketch of enduring national tradition, an elegantly simple capsule of a complex ideology. He depicted three ages of man in an arc from youth to dotage, from carefree friends chasing dragonflies and goldfish to the sunset years of meditative solitude; he described how each stage has objects and activities appropriate to the correct forms of self-cultivation (from kabutomushi kabutomushi and fireflies through and fireflies through ka-cho-fu-getsu- ka-cho-fu-getsu-flower-bird-wind-moon, the contemplation of the subtleties of nature-to the care of chrysanthemums); and he explained that these simple practices can (even in such an elementary version) create a meaningful j.a.panese life.

As the professor talked, it struck me and CJ that these forms of play, culture, and contemplation were an aspiration, a promise of contentment and fulfillment that tied together many of the insect people we had met. His sketch reminded us of the yearning for emotional purity at the heart of Kuwachan's insect poems. It was a framing for the stories of insect love as a formative stage in the making of a whole person. Ant.i.thetical to urbanized, bureaucratized modern life, unattainable by most people even in childhood, as a model for a form of life, its role was largely critique. It was part of that family of utopian insect stories that included Miyazaki's hippie town, Tezuka's secret jungle, Kuwachan's poetry, and those hopeful weekends of kazoku service. kazoku service. And, like those stories, it helped explain some of the emotional burden that j.a.panese insects were asked to a.s.sume and some of the desires that they seemed so readily to bear. And, like those stories, it helped explain some of the emotional burden that j.a.panese insects were asked to a.s.sume and some of the desires that they seemed so readily to bear.

Before 1999, most j.a.panese insect lovers knew foreign stag and rhinoceros beetles through magazines, television, and museums. These animals were often bigger and more spectacular than the local species; many had longer horns and antlers, larger bodies, and showier coloring. But under the Plant Protection Act of 1950, it was illegal for private collectors to bring them into j.a.pan. There was, however, no penalty for owning or selling restricted animals once they were in the country, and that anomaly enabled a lively black market, extravagant prices, and a profitable smuggling industry reputedly controlled by the yakuza. yakuza. Still, the number of animals involved was relatively small and the well-heeled collectors involved were a select set. Still, the number of animals involved was relatively small and the well-heeled collectors involved were a select set.

The Plant Protection Act compiles lists of animals considered "detrimental" to native plants and agriculture. However, it has an unusual precautionary protocol: all species are cla.s.sed as detrimental until authorized for entry at a plant protection station. In 1999, under pressure from collectors eager to know which beetles were permitted, the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry, and Fisheries published a list on its website of 485 stag beetles and 53 rhinoceros beetles considered "nondetrimental."9 Within two years, 900,000 live Within two years, 900,000 live kuwagata kuwagata and and kabutomushi kabutomushi had been imported. had been imported.10 Even so, in succeeding years the ministry added more species to its list until, by 2003, 505 species of stag beetle had been authorized out of a worldwide total of around 1,200 described species. As the entomologists Kouichi Goka, Hiroshi Kojima, and Kimiko Okabe commented drily, "The habitat maintaining the highest biodiversity of stag beetles is j.a.panese pet shops." Even so, in succeeding years the ministry added more species to its list until, by 2003, 505 species of stag beetle had been authorized out of a worldwide total of around 1,200 described species. As the entomologists Kouichi Goka, Hiroshi Kojima, and Kimiko Okabe commented drily, "The habitat maintaining the highest biodiversity of stag beetles is j.a.panese pet shops."11 In 2004, they estimated the value of the import trade at 10 billion (about U.S.$100 million). Large individuals of desirable species were selling in Tokyo for upward of U.S.$3,300. In 2004, they estimated the value of the import trade at 10 billion (about U.S.$100 million). Large individuals of desirable species were selling in Tokyo for upward of U.S.$3,300.12 The scale of the growth in live-insect imports was completely unexpected. Iijima Kazuhiko told us that the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry, and Fisheries ignored warnings from the Ministry of the Environment but, nonetheless, the government had no idea what it was unleashing. However, he added, there were high-profile precedents that should have been cause for hesitation: animals such as the black ba.s.s, the racc.o.o.n, the small Indian mongoose, and the European b.u.mblebee Bombus terrestris Bombus terrestris, which are infamous in j.a.pan for adapting too successfully to their new environment. But when it came to beetles, policy makers and scientists were confident that foreign kuwagata kuwagata and and kabutomushi kabutomushi, most of which come from subtropical and tropical Southeast Asia and Central and South America, would be unable to survive the harsh j.a.panese winter. Only later did they realize that many of those animals' home ranges were at high alt.i.tudes in cooler temperatures.13 The import boom crested quickly. By 2001, the number of beetles entering j.a.pan had fallen significantly from its height, and as the supply increased, the prices for all but the rarest (and largest) slumped too.14 But even with reduced quant.i.ties, it was evident that the boom had radically expanded the breadth of the trade. New insect shops had opened their doors, and existing pet stores had retooled. Large department stores were carrying imported species. For a while, live beetles were available from vending machines. All kinds of products that made raising and caring for the animals simpler and more appealing were brought to the market (individual servings of food in jelly form, "fungus jars" of habitat medium, deodorizing powders, cute carrying cases). Most significantly, an unknown but anecdotally vast number of people had taken up beetle breeding. Between 1997 and 2001, seven glossy specialist magazines were founded that offered advice to breeders, ran compet.i.tions, featured stories of intrepid collectors, shaped a sense of beetle aesthetics, and nurtured the emerging communities of enthusiasts. But even with reduced quant.i.ties, it was evident that the boom had radically expanded the breadth of the trade. New insect shops had opened their doors, and existing pet stores had retooled. Large department stores were carrying imported species. For a while, live beetles were available from vending machines. All kinds of products that made raising and caring for the animals simpler and more appealing were brought to the market (individual servings of food in jelly form, "fungus jars" of habitat medium, deodorizing powders, cute carrying cases). Most significantly, an unknown but anecdotally vast number of people had taken up beetle breeding. Between 1997 and 2001, seven glossy specialist magazines were founded that offered advice to breeders, ran compet.i.tions, featured stories of intrepid collectors, shaped a sense of beetle aesthetics, and nurtured the emerging communities of enthusiasts.15 Struggling to account for the surging appeal of pet insects, the author of the insect section of the j.a.pan External Trade Organization's Marketing Guidebook for Major Imported Products Marketing Guidebook for Major Imported Products for 2004 pointed out that beetles "require little time and energy to take care of. They do not need to be fed anywhere in particular, and their pens take up only a small amount of s.p.a.ce on top of a desk.... [They] do not make noise and they do not have to be taken outdoors for exercise." for 2004 pointed out that beetles "require little time and energy to take care of. They do not need to be fed anywhere in particular, and their pens take up only a small amount of s.p.a.ce on top of a desk.... [They] do not make noise and they do not have to be taken outdoors for exercise."16 This seemed like an uncontroversial if superficial explanation, but the correlative claim that much of the market expansion was due to twenty-something urban women attracted to low-maintenance companion species was more dubious. Despite the apparent democratization of the hobby, despite the eager partic.i.p.ation of some schoolgirls in summer insect projects, despite the success of insect-loving female role models such as Miyazaki's Princess Nausicaa, and despite Sega's girls-only This seemed like an uncontroversial if superficial explanation, but the correlative claim that much of the market expansion was due to twenty-something urban women attracted to low-maintenance companion species was more dubious. Despite the apparent democratization of the hobby, despite the eager partic.i.p.ation of some schoolgirls in summer insect projects, despite the success of insect-loving female role models such as Miyazaki's Princess Nausicaa, and despite Sega's girls-only MushiKing MushiKing events, Iijima Kazuhiko-in line with other people CJ and I spoke to-estimated that even if the total number of female insect lovers was growing, only 1 in 100 of the enthusiasts who shopped at Mushi-sha were women, a proportion that had changed little over the years. Most of the women entering the store, he said, were chaperoning their sons. Instead, insect-loving women and girls were rare enough to warrant a satirical column in events, Iijima Kazuhiko-in line with other people CJ and I spoke to-estimated that even if the total number of female insect lovers was growing, only 1 in 100 of the enthusiasts who shopped at Mushi-sha were women, a proportion that had changed little over the years. Most of the women entering the store, he said, were chaperoning their sons. Instead, insect-loving women and girls were rare enough to warrant a satirical column in Be-kuwa! Be-kuwa! purportedly written by a beetle-crazy dominatrix-ish purportedly written by a beetle-crazy dominatrix-ish s.e.x and the City s.e.x and the Cityish girl-about-town (the continuing joke being the incongruity of the glamorous Ms. Shoko's pa.s.sion for insects).

Yet there was absolutely no question that the overall base was rapidly increasing. Professional insect specialists found themselves yearning for the calm old days. The stern price discipline reputedly enforced by the yakuza yakuza no longer seemed so grim. Stories circulated of families, tired of pet keeping or sorry for the animal cooped up in its plastic box, driving out of town and releasing their no longer seemed so grim. Stories circulated of families, tired of pet keeping or sorry for the animal cooped up in its plastic box, driving out of town and releasing their kuwagata kuwagata in the woods. Reports surfaced of large caches of imported beetles discovered in the countryside: surplus stock abandoned by breeders and store owners who had fallen victim to too-rapid expansion. ("It's only the people like me, who were in this for love rather than money, who have survived," Kuwachan told us.) in the woods. Reports surfaced of large caches of imported beetles discovered in the countryside: surplus stock abandoned by breeders and store owners who had fallen victim to too-rapid expansion. ("It's only the people like me, who were in this for love rather than money, who have survived," Kuwachan told us.) More embarra.s.sing, a series of high-profile cases involving the arrest of j.a.panese nationals caught smuggling quant.i.ties of prohibited beetles out of Taiwan, Australia, and various Southeast Asian countries revealed that the incentives and possibilities for trafficking had only increased with liberalization. Similarly, surveys of j.a.panese insect stores found a substantial number of beetles on sale that were not only prohibited for collection in their countries of origin but also prohibited in j.a.pan under the Plant Protection Act and, in some cases, listed under CITES, the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species.17 The environmental impact of the expanding j.a.panese market on the countries of origin was one concern for conservationists. But they also found three issues closer to home to worry about.18 Adult stag and rhinoceros beetles are vegetarians, living on tree sap and plant juices. The larvae and imagoes are important in the early stages of forest decomposition, mechanically breaking up decayed wood and creating the conditions for microorganisms to do their work. Beyond this, though, not much is known about their ecology. The obvious possibility was that powerful newcomers that liked similar niches would outcompete local species for food and habitat, threatening both the j.a.panese beetles and their food source. Goka and his colleagues were also concerned that the foreign beetles would bring unknown parasitic mites, which could undermine local beetle populations-in the same way that the varroa mite, exported from j.a.pan with commercial hives, has devastated the European honeybee. And they worried, too, about the reduction of genetic diversity through interbreeding. Back in the lab, they created a "Frankenstein stag beetle," successfully mating a female Sumatran Adult stag and rhinoceros beetles are vegetarians, living on tree sap and plant juices. The larvae and imagoes are important in the early stages of forest decomposition, mechanically breaking up decayed wood and creating the conditions for microorganisms to do their work. Beyond this, though, not much is known about their ecology. The obvious possibility was that powerful newcomers that liked similar niches would outcompete local species for food and habitat, threatening both the j.a.panese beetles and their food source. Goka and his colleagues were also concerned that the foreign beetles would bring unknown parasitic mites, which could undermine local beetle populations-in the same way that the varroa mite, exported from j.a.pan with commercial hives, has devastated the European honeybee. And they worried, too, about the reduction of genetic diversity through interbreeding. Back in the lab, they created a "Frankenstein stag beetle," successfully mating a female Sumatran Dorcus t.i.ta.n.u.s- Dorcus t.i.ta.n.u.s-a popular pet-with a male from one of j.a.pan's twelve endemic subspecies. The s.e.x wasn't pretty, with the Indonesian female using what the scientists called "violent cruelty" to force herself on the reluctant j.a.panese male. But the resulting larvae grew into large fertile hybrids, similar to other hyphenated j.a.panese beetles that the scientists later collected in the wild, making real the troubling specter of genetic introgression.19 In 2003, just as the beetle craze seemed to be cooling off, Sega launched MushiKing. MushiKing. Targeted at elementary school children, it was exciting, addictive, and elegantly simple, efficiently bringing together its audience's pa.s.sions for big beetles, obsessive collecting, compet.i.tive gaming, and souped-up graphics. Very soon it was j.a.pan's biggest-selling game franchise since Targeted at elementary school children, it was exciting, addictive, and elegantly simple, efficiently bringing together its audience's pa.s.sions for big beetles, obsessive collecting, compet.i.tive gaming, and souped-up graphics. Very soon it was j.a.pan's biggest-selling game franchise since Pokemon Pokemon (and was doing quick business in Korea, Taiwan, Malaysia, Hong Kong, Singapore, Indonesia, Thailand, and the Philippines, too). (and was doing quick business in Korea, Taiwan, Malaysia, Hong Kong, Singapore, Indonesia, Thailand, and the Philippines, too).

Sega rolled out a ruthlessly effective promotional campaign. They staged hundreds of thousands of tournaments and demonstration matches. They set up banks of console machines in department stores and hypermarkets. They flooded the country with ads. In 2005, they announced versions of MushiKing MushiKing for Nintendo DS, Game Boy, and other handheld devices. That year Sega began a spin-off anime series on Tokyo TV. In 2006, they released the antic.i.p.ated blockbuster movie. for Nintendo DS, Game Boy, and other handheld devices. That year Sega began a spin-off anime series on Tokyo TV. In 2006, they released the antic.i.p.ated blockbuster movie.

There was no question that MushiKing MushiKing added value to the commercialization of stag and rhinoceros beetles. Nor that in doing so it intensified the paradoxes. Its mention provoked resigned smiles from the curator and docent in the hallway of the Itami City Insectarium, just as it did in similar conversations elsewhere. This was the summer of 2005, the height of the phenomenon, and it was obvious that the game had crystallized many insect people's ambivalence about the form the beetle boom was taking. Keen as they were to inspire the public, happy as they were to see the excitement with which children entered their museums and stores, they had little enthusiasm for the game's elevation of beetle belligerence and worried about the narrowing of these animals' ident.i.ties to their most mechanical aspects, worried that children would think of them as tough toys, not living creatures. added value to the commercialization of stag and rhinoceros beetles. Nor that in doing so it intensified the paradoxes. Its mention provoked resigned smiles from the curator and docent in the hallway of the Itami City Insectarium, just as it did in similar conversations elsewhere. This was the summer of 2005, the height of the phenomenon, and it was obvious that the game had crystallized many insect people's ambivalence about the form the beetle boom was taking. Keen as they were to inspire the public, happy as they were to see the excitement with which children entered their museums and stores, they had little enthusiasm for the game's elevation of beetle belligerence and worried about the narrowing of these animals' ident.i.ties to their most mechanical aspects, worried that children would think of them as tough toys, not living creatures.

But Sega antic.i.p.ated the unease. As if to mock both fears and hopes, they wrapped MushiKing MushiKing in a package that compounded the ironies. The game wasn't just an intensification. It was an environmental parable, and its plot was the same cla.s.sic story that the insect people themselves were trying to tell. in a package that compounded the ironies. The game wasn't just an intensification. It was an environmental parable, and its plot was the same cla.s.sic story that the insect people themselves were trying to tell.

MushiKing described the destruction of j.a.pan's indigenous fauna by an invading army of fugitive imported beetles. And it enlisted j.a.panese children in the fight to save the nation's endangered species. It was an apocalypse story in the tradition of the monster movies and TV shows that first made described the destruction of j.a.pan's indigenous fauna by an invading army of fugitive imported beetles. And it enlisted j.a.panese children in the fight to save the nation's endangered species. It was an apocalypse story in the tradition of the monster movies and TV shows that first made kuwagata kuwagata and and kabutomushi kabutomushi popular in the mid-1960s. It lifted its instantly recognizable plotlines from pop media, and it revealed that the scientists were drawing on those sources too. Sega and the entomologists were telling the same story. They were telling it to the same audience. And as was obvious, Sega was telling it much more seductively. popular in the mid-1960s. It lifted its instantly recognizable plotlines from pop media, and it revealed that the scientists were drawing on those sources too. Sega and the entomologists were telling the same story. They were telling it to the same audience. And as was obvious, Sega was telling it much more seductively.

Before MushiKing MushiKing, before the Plant Protection Act, before Mushi-sha, before inflatable kabutomushi kabutomushi in summer festivals, before insect figurines in Akihabara, before the "Befriend a c.o.c.kroach" table at the Itami City Insectarium, before Kuwachan quit his salaried job to sell in summer festivals, before insect figurines in Akihabara, before the "Befriend a c.o.c.kroach" table at the Itami City Insectarium, before Kuwachan quit his salaried job to sell kuwagata kuwagata full-time, before Sugiura Tetsuya came home from Brazil with b.u.t.terflies, before Miyazaki turned the Lady Who Loved Worms into Princess Nausicaa, before Tezuka turned Jiminy Cricket into Astro Boy, before Yoro Takeshi and his school friends hiked the mountains of Kamakura, before all of that-though after so much else-Yajima Minoru, still a full-time, before Sugiura Tetsuya came home from Brazil with b.u.t.terflies, before Miyazaki turned the Lady Who Loved Worms into Princess Nausicaa, before Tezuka turned Jiminy Cricket into Astro Boy, before Yoro Takeshi and his school friends hiked the mountains of Kamakura, before all of that-though after so much else-Yajima Minoru, still a konchu-shonen konchu-shonen, a fourteen-year-old boy stumbling through a dark nightmare of personal and collective trauma, stood on the lip of a water-filled crater among the smoldering remains of wood-frame Tokyo-a city all but obliterated in the firestorm ordered up by Robert McNamara-and there, on the rim of the bomb crater, as all around him people scrabbled in the ruins for the remnants of their lives, he watched a dragonfly settle on a floating shard of wood and, as if nothing were any different, lay her eggs in the stagnant water. "That dragonfly didn't care about all the corpses," he wrote fifty years later, the image still vivid in his mind. "In the midst of that terrible reality, in spite of everything that was going on around her, she was alive and strong."20 Yajima-san survived the war, but only just. He writes of what he witnessed as if from a dream, a trauma-dream with all its strange infoldings of linear time. The thousands of burned and rotting corpses. The young woman alone in a charred field cradling two bundles: under one arm her colorful kimonos, under the other the blackened body of her child. Tokyo is a "sea of fire." Outside the factory in which he was working, he watches shrapnel explode as if in slow motion. He sees people dig useless shallow trenches in the ground for shelter, uncomprehending of the power of the B-29s. After the night of the Great Tokyo Air Raid, in which more die than even at Hiroshima, he watches the survivors gather up the piles of burned bodies. At a train station, caught in a stampeding crowd strafed by an American aircraft, a man, shot dead, falls on top of him.

Yajima-san was a sickly child. In the years leading up to the war, he came down with jaundice and spent a long time at home unable to attend school. Every day on the radio, he heard news of the successes of the j.a.panese military. Around him, the excitement mounted. In middle school, the students were told they were no longer children. Military exercises were compulsory. His cla.s.smates craved the honor of sacrificing themselves for the nation. His sickness, they said, was evidence of a weak mind. When he again fell ill, he was not permitted to be absent from school. As militarism increased, his health deteriorated further.

After the war, he contracted lung disease. His uncle, sh.e.l.l-shocked in the air raids, had moved to Saitama, in those days outside Tokyo and a place of rural calm. Here, exploring the countryside, Yajima Minoru recovered his connection to the natural world, to the dragonflies, tadpoles, ant lions, and cicadas he'd played with while in elementary school. In the fall, he helped supplement the household's diet of poor-quality American relief bread and corned beef with locusts from the rice fields. If you observe locusts closely, he says now, you see that their eyes are really kawaii kawaii, and-just as cute-you see that when people approach, the animals move around to the opposite side of the rice stalk. In those days, though, it was all hunger all the time, and he thought of the insects only as food, doing his best to trap as many of them as possible.

In 1946, his doctor ordered a year of rest. Yajima moved back to Tokyo and discovered Osugi's translation of Fabre's Souvenirs entomologiques. Souvenirs entomologiques. He was fascinated by the way Fabre looked so