Customer Reviews

Tokyo Vice: An American Reporter on the Police Beat in Japan (Vintage Crime/Black Lizard)

5 star:		(79)
4 star:		(15)
3 star:		(10)
2 star:		(4)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

Or, in Jake Adelstein's case, it doesn't -- thankfully, because American readers now finally have access to a book that chronicles the real Japan, free of stereotypes and even more well-rounded and nuanced as any of the 'foreigner abroad' books we are accustomed to reading from Americans who head off to the more culturally-familiar terrain of Europe.

Full disclosure: I lived in Tokyo for parts of early 80s before finally leaving in 1985, before Adelstein arrived to study at Sophia University. Like him, I began my journalistic career there, although it was as a copy editor at the English-language Japan Times rather than as a reporter for a Japanese daily. Even in 1985, being a 'gaijin' (foreigner) and a female would have put paid to any such plans, even if my decidedly unfluent Japanese hadn't. Adelstein, however, benefited from the passage of time, his language skills and his gender and landed a job at the Yomiuri newspaper, one of the country's largest. Automatically an unusual person in Japan's extraordinarily homogenous society (at the time I lived there, at least, there was no space on a driver's license for hair or eye color -- because it was assumed that all would be the same...), Adelstein ended up covering another kind group of misfits in Japan: the country's yakuza, or organized criminals.

It's a fascinating world, part of Japanese popular culture as much as the Mafia is here, and yet virtually unrecognized outside of the country. Along with writing about the yakuza, Adelstein does a fabulous job of raising the curtain on the lives of ordinary Japanese, finally debunking all the stereotypes. Japanese men gawk at the pictures in Madonna's "Sex"; the male reporters openly read porn magazines in the workspace. Social life revolves around getting drunk; the job of a police reporter like Adelstein includes paying evening calls to the homes of his detective friends. Adelstein shows how phenomena like the hostess clubs are fueled by "alienation, boredom and loneliness."

That said, this is a very uneven book. The first half, in particular, seems to be the story of a foreigner who gets himself a job at a Japanese newspaper, thinks to himself, "wow, this is cool and different and maybe I'll write a book about it, too, because not many people have done what I've done." The glimpse behind the scenes of a Japanese newspaper were interesting enough, but after a while the long paragraphs, one after another, of people talking became wearying. So did Adelstein's self-congratulatory air: Getting words of praise from a colleague is "a good feeling"; another story is "a nice little scoop", or "our investigative reporting had the gratifying result of spurring the Saitama police into arresting the people responsible for the bank failure." Yawn. And I could have done without the insights into his sex life, as when he leaves his 'girlfriend' hanging on in the love hotel room they have rented by the hour in order to deal with an editor. "Honorable me, I knew I owed her. So I turned my beeper off for the first time in months." At times, he sounds almost smug.

And yet, just as I was about to give up on the book, it took off and turned into an extraordinary chronicle, revealing in the process an entirely different narrator, someone passionate and thoughtful enough about the world he sees around him to be willing to stand up and be counted. He becomes the nail that sticks up and must be hammered down, in the Japanese saying used of people who place their independent thoughts above smooth social relationships. And the people who wanted to do the hammering were Japan's yakuza, as Adelstein's beat takes him into an investigation of sexual slavery and abuse in Japan's hostess bars, 'soaplands' and brothels. What had been almost flippant before (see Jake Adelstein as a male host!) becomes deadly serious, and I ended up reading late into the night to discover what happened, just as I would have done with a great thriller. The catch, of course, is that the crimes and abuses committed by the yakuza, for which the police are unable or unwilling to prosecute them, were and remain real. Adelstein points out the difficulty of prosecuting human trafficking offenses in a country where the victims are promptly deported -- and then the police and law enforcement officials point out that they have no complaining witnesses! He points to the impact of the casual racism and sexism on law enforcement, from attitudes to Koreans of Japanese descent to the women who arrive in Japan to work as hostesses. And ultimately, he puts his life on the line -- literally -- in an effort to expose some of these abuses.

The heroes of Adelstein's book come from across the board -- this is not smart gaijin hero versus thick-witted racist Japanese, or evil Yakuza versus courageous journalists. Some of the most poignant and heartfelt parts of this ultimately very moving book are those devoted to one of his closest friends, a Japanese police detective, and to an Australian bar girl who becomes a friend of sorts. And ultimately Adelstein sheds that self-satisfied foreigner abroad persona, recognizing that his all-too-human failures as a person and a reporter meant that "I'd endangered every person I cared about, liked, loved, or simply knew. (They had become) potential leverage for (the yakuza target of his investigations) who had no qualms about using people like cannon fodder." It's a cry from the heart, and the story of Adelstein's investigations and efforts to get his worked published make this book a 'must read'.

I'd like to think that the Japanese fascination with what other nations think about them would mean that this book will be translated into Japanese and have a wide audience there. Given the difficulty Adelstein had in finding a Japanese publisher for his journalistic scoops about the yakuza's worst crimes, I'm not sure it will happen. Moreover, the home truths that Adelstein tells -- from a position inside Japanese society, not from the usual gaijin perspective of having one foot in Tokyo's expat community -- about everything from the ugly realities underlying the hostess bar culture and the treatment of a female fellow reporter and friend at the Yomiuri, to the horrors of human trafficking, may prove hard for them to digest. In any event, it's a fascinating read that I'd recommend to anyone with an interest in Japan or thinking of going to live or work there.

A few other recommendations: For more insight into the dysfunctional part of Japanese society (if not the criminal element), try Shutting Out the Sun: How Japan Created Its Own Lost Generation (Vintage Departures) or Alex Kerr's Dogs and Demons: Tales from the Dark Side of Japan. Some dark comedy and brilliant film-making comes from Juzo Itami, who, it appears, may have been murdered by yakuza rather than committing suicide. Many probably are familiar with Tampopo; just as good, IMO, is A Taxing Woman; the sequel, A Taxing Woman's Return, is still available only on VHS. Both are great and hilarious examples of a crusading tax inspector battling her own bureaucracy and the criminal elements who happen to be evading their taxes. I can't recommend either film strongly enough.

with a pitcher of beer, sort of watching the game. A novelist and a reporter sit down on either side of you. They want to make you a deal: they get to have some of your beer and in exchange, each of them will take turns telling you incredibly good stories.

At first you're a little worried because, well, who are these guys drinking your beer?

Within a couple minutes, you are not worried anymore. You are ordering another pitcher. And then another one. These guys are two of the best storytellers you've ever met, and the drunker they get, the more they appear to be trying to outdo each other. The stories they are telling you are as engaging as they are strange and unbelievable.

Now imagine that both of these guys, the novelist and the reporter, are actually the same guy, and the stories they are telling are all true. That's what reading this book is like.

The subject matter is the obvious initial draw to this book. Mr. Adelstein's relays his years of experience as a reporter for the Yomiuri Shinbun with efficiency, clarity and wit, while at the same time managing to convey some of the structure and texture of a number of complex institutions and sub-cultures (the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, other prefectural police departments in Japan, crime reporters for the Yomiuri and, of course, the yakuza).

Beyond the fascinating subject matter, however, I could and would and will recommend this book solely for the quality of writing. Mr. Adelstein works expertly at the level of the sentence and the vignette. He doesn't accumulate detail, but instead precisely curates it, giving just enough to put you right there with him. Any less detail and the narrative would be flat, lifeless. Any more detail would drag it down, make it feel like a reading assignment. Instead, Mr. Adelstein's prose has a tactile quality to it. It is measured and balanced and paced in such a way that you live the story with him. I would buy this storyteller an ongoing supply of beer just to keep listening to him tell stories.

I wasn't sure what to expect from this book -- most stories about Westerners moving to Japan are simple, ego-driven pieces of "finding yourself" trash.

I gotta say, though, that Tokyo Vice, while it might have fallen into this category, DOESN'T. Jake Adelstein knows his stuff, and the audience can figure that out in the first lines. This is no "ohmygosh-Japan-is-different-because-everyone-is-ASIAN-and-speaks-JAPANESE!" Instead, this is layer upon layer of real information, texture that I don't think anyone could pick up unless they were actually immersed in a culture, and written from a place far past the wide-eyed excitement of a first-time visitor.

The book has an interesting, engaging narrative, that stands on its own even without all the depth of knowledge the author brings. And, though the subject seems like it's straight out of fiction, it's not. I know more about the Japanese newspaper industry, the Tokyo Police Department, and the seedier aspects of life in Japan now than I ever have. And that's saying something.

Frankly, this book could have been a piece of garden variety, semi-racist, often lurid, pulp fiction. Instead, it's a thoughtful look back on an experience no one else on this earth has had.

Read it.

Japan is not entirely the land of Zen gardens and precision cameras as most Americans born after WWII tend to believe. It is a nation with a major dark side, openly racist and sexist, with a wide public tolerance of perversions such as child pornography. Japanese 'salarymen' in suits stand on their lunch hour reading comic books about teenage schoolgirls. This is also the country that was equalled only by Nazi Germany in their wartime cruelties against civilians and prisoners. But the Japanese above all believe in social cohesion, and these regrettable parts of human behavior are regarded as inevitable, so why not provide for them in a socially integrated way? Thus it is not surprising that organized crime is considered just another part of daily life, with office buildings and business cards (!) for the so-called yakuza.

Tokyo Vice is the autobiographical story of Jake Adelstein, a middle-class boy from the American Midwest who grew up attracted to Japanese culture and language, and how he learned about all this first hand. Adelstein relocated to Japan in his teens to study Buddhism and go to college, and stayed. Amazingly, he eventually managed to be hired as a reporter for the largest Japanese daily newspaper, writing and working entirely in the Japanese language for twelve years. He served on the crime beat, becoming an expert on the seamy underside of Japanese life.

Eventually however, Adelstein went beyond his objective reporter role and stood up as an advocate and crusader, especially on behalf of foreign women whom he discovered being trafficked into sexual slavery in Japan. He was appalled to find that these crimes were ignored by the Japanese establishment; the victims were women, prostitutes and foreigners and therefore triply of no importance. This also led him to understand how organized crime works in Japan, including evidence of corruption at high levels in the government.

His crusade has had some effect; through investigative journalism and contacts with the US government he eventually shamed Japan into beginning to respond to these problems. Also Adelstein uncovered the story of top yakuza who found ways to receive needed liver transplants at American hospitals ahead of long waiting lists - an investigation which led to him and his family receiving serious death threats.

It's not a pretty story. The most upsetting episode concerns a beautiful Australian woman working as a prostitute in Tokyo who became a close friend and informant of Adelstein. When she attempted to help him investigate the trafficking, she disappeared - with credible evidence she was tortured to death by the yakusa. The book is about fairly recent events so we cannot expect the full story. Nevertheless it disturbed me that Adelstein seems not to fully accept that this was the direct result of his association with her.

A riveting story but not well written. There are tedious dialogs, off sentences, many cliches. Puzzling because Adelstein is a professional writer; in May of 2008 he published a straightforward essay in the Washington Post (still on the Internet) summarizing the story succintly. But this book length version has been turned into something like a Mickey Spillane novel-noir, with way too many tedious conversations with Japanese cops smoking way too many cigarettes. Perhaps the author received some bad advice from his publisher and editors, who wanted him to jazz up his account with more 'vivid' personalities? I also would have appreciated more in the way of third party context - quotes from the Japanese newspaper articles or government documentation which would show some reality besides the author's.

Finally, Adelstein has a peculiar, almost coy attitude in writing about one key element - himself. Even though his personal life is intertwined with the story at every level, he leaves out more than he tells. He marries a Japanese woman but does not talk about her or how they met. He becomes personally involved with his informants but does not explain. It is understandable for him to protect his sources, but I liked it less when he seemed to be protecting himself.

Bottom line: A gripping insight into contemporary Japan. One must admire Adelstein for his courage in acting on his outrage and for his ongoing campaign to shine a light on abuses in Japanese society. But the book could have been more cleanly written and the author could have been more open about his personal saga.

Jakes ability to express himself is a rare gift that few are given. He often mentioned that grace and agility did not come naturally. As a freshman in college in the midwest, he fell two stories down an open elevator shaft.
This resulted in a few injured bones and a mild concussion. The result was a loss of short term memory. At the time he was enrolled in Japanese at the University of Missouri. His Japanese memory was gone,but soon recovered with the help of a tutor.
Tokyo Vice, not only explains how he was able to learn to read,write,and speak Japanese, but to use it as a reporter. Although somewhat biased, it was hard to put down the book. His personal stories and reporting revealed things that even a mother doesnt want to know.
Jakes mother

The book was pretty great. It was really interesting to read about a Midwestern Jew who moves to Japan and assimilates himself into the culture so well. It's hilarious reading about how he can never blend in, even though it would be advantageous for an investigative report.

I loved reading about the cultural differences and seeing how business is done in Japan. Life, love and the perception of men is interesting, especially compared to America.

The brotherhood that was shown between Jake and his friends was endearing. These reporters all have each others backs. The friendships that were formed were the best part of the story. You could tell that Jake really cared about these people.

I don't know if I could give it a better compliment than to call it gritty and real. Well written and fun to read.

Jake Adelstein has a very special story to tell. He worked for Japan's biggest daily newspaper as a crime reporter, which is some feat in a country where the idea of cultural and racial essentialism thrives. The book is written in a slightly hardboiled reporter style, and there are lots of small and amusing details just waiting to be noticed. Adelstein avoids the usual trappings of gaijin writing about Japan, and includes a lot of the things that every ex-pat living in Japan moans about, but in a good way. Really good book, and very recommended if you have interest in real crime stories, journalism or Japanese society.

I would have considered myself well read and well...for lack of better terms, well versed in the American Mafia lit. scene (if there is such a thing) by reading the likes of books such as Five Families by Selwyn Raab and then being a huge, (understatement) HUGE connoisseur of all things Godfather movie types and of course the HBO series The Sopranos. Yet, I know little or did know little about similar scenes around the world, until now.

Adelstein's dislodging of my perception of this world is masterful at best. His, at times, excruciating detail about his own experience, starting with scene one to the last page, quite frankly, scares me.

"She was found faceup, both hands spread out. She was wearing dark blue overalls with a striped blouse. She was wearing shoes and socks. (Another telling sign: If she didn't have her shoes and socks on--and if they weren't part of the crime scene--that opened up the possibility of a double suicide attempt in which her partner chickened out. The reason: typically Japanese remove their socks and shoes before killing themselves...)"

I can almost see her in her death, in a complete light. All I can say is that I only thing I can picture now is his version of Japan. The underground, the death, the murderous stares.

Adelstein, as seen in the para. above, also serves up a heaping pile of Japanese culture lessons for us who have always envisioned it as this Hello Kitty/gobbs of Sushi rolls thrown our way. The same version that made me long to visit there. But I suppose this is what great writers do. They infiltrate your "reality" with the either fictional or actual reality. Adelstein's vice grip is well placed around my senses throughout.

Another compelling point of his work is the use of candid "humor" as if he, personally, was addressing me in all things police tactic. Reference the "Memo to Whom It may Concern" on page 69. These tidbits of real information, told in a relatively easy to understand style for the obsessive true crime layman like myself, are gems. Finding the balance between what he went through and then to get "real" information about the job, is not only rare, but refreshing and breaks, in just the right place, the tension he's crafted throughout.

Kudos to Adelstein for placing a great read in my hands. I would recommend this to anyone who relishes the surreal as if it were real and vice versa. He does a knock out job at both. ~Cicily Janus

I found this book while casually browsing the local library for something to read on the bus to and from work. I've always been fascinated with the criminal justice system and international affairs, and this book seemed lightweight enough to read without falling asleep on a long bus ride home. I never got a chance to read this on the bus, because I simply couldn't put this book down. It blowed all my expectations out of the water. As previous reviews have noted, the book is not perfect in any way - there are multiple grammatical errors and typos obvious even to someone who can't spell a thing without spell-checker like me, and it was not organized in the most logical way. In his own imperfect, cocky-but-charming way, the author was able to capture an amazingly broad spectrum of such vivid experiences and raw emotions into this riveting book. This book will open your eyes, make you laugh, make you feel helpless, make you appreciate the simple things in life, make you treasure your friendship, and much more. The earlier chapters chronicled the author's earlier days as a single, young man in Japan. Other than being fun to read, I think these earlier chapters also made it really easy to relate to the author. The later chapters had a deeper, much more serious tone to them as the author continued to depict the violence, cruelty and injustice that he encountered while covering as a crime reporter in Tokyo. I wish the author had concluded with a stronger call to action. The book sheds a light on a variety of grave issues that are not easy to talk about and it demonstrates that a person can truly make a difference; however, it doesn't leave much recommendation in terms of what the readers can or should do to help further the cause.

To summarize this review, I simply can't imagine anyone who won't enjoy reading Tokyo Vice... okay, make that anyone over 18.

Tokyo Vice cannot be called simply a book. It is a life - a slice of life of one American reporter working for one of the largest newspapers in Japan. This slice of life account opens up a window view into another world that lies just under the surface of what we think of as the norm. Some people fall into this world by ill luck from debt and poverty, some fall into it by the weight of their vices or the need for thrill, and some are born into it having little choice. Tokyo Vice shines a light on this darker world and some of its people and the people who try to keep back the darkness.

Tokyo Vice is not juicy pulp fiction type book, however, and this may be where some readers looking for a quick fix will be disappointed. Those looking for sordid tales of murder and sex will find it here but these details are told matter-of-fact as opposed to macabre glee. Tokyo Vice does not glamorize Tokyo's Underworld. It serves as a warning of the reality of sex-slaves, brutal men, murderous perverts, diseased junkies, battered prostitutes. This is not a world you want to associate with if you can help it.

But even more compelling than the cold look at Tokyo's darker side, are the characters the author encountered in his time in Japan. His yakuza-looking cop friend is one of the best characters in the book. He is one of those good people in this world you never hear about but should. Another character is the indomitable female reporter who fought against the prejudice towards the mentally ill. And then there is his foul-mouthed full-of-life prostitute friend who may have made a courageous sacrifice for her friend and the fight against human trafficking.

Tokyo Vice may be a book about bad people who have done terrible deeds but it's also a book about good people who have fought hard and strove to make a difference and that alone makes it worth a read.