The voices of expatriates issue from the edges of existence, and in Tokyo, this means half-empty cars on wee-hour train commutes, sparse beaches in swimming-pool sized parks, darkened cinemas at the peak of the morning rush-hour -- precious loci of intimacy in the world's most populas mega-city. ("At night Tokyo expands," writes Jonathan Mack. "Air rushes in.") Some of these writings move far beyond the city's perimeters to recount pasts often desperately escaped but still longed for, still present (we even visit Dostoevsky in Germany!), because living elsewhere provides a fresh perspective on the new land and the old. Samuel Johnson wrote: "To be happy at home is the ultimate result of all ambition," and perhaps of all expatriates. This rich collection of stories, poems and musings is a testament to the power of language to traverse time and space in the global sprawl of the 21st century -- and its writings strongly suggest that 'home' is fast being redefined. (Roland Kelts, author or Japanamerica: How Japanese Pop Culture has invaded the US)
Jungle Crows sheds light on what's been going on in English ex-pat fiction and poetry (most especially performance poetry) in recent years, and in dark and light places in the greater Tokyo area. The writing in this anthology tends toward the urban and colloquial. ribs crack "like so many chopsticks." A newly-fired worker, to a junior high school student in a sailor uniform. "I don't usually like to be seen, but I've seen you here before." See it for yourself. (Jane Joritz-Nakagawa, poet, author of Skin Museum)
