My Year of Meats (Paperback)

I think I may start buying organic meats again, because this book gave me the same reaction. Like the main character, Jane, discovering the practices of the 20th century meat industry -- even with the FDA in charge -- has made me think again about what I'm eating.

Jane gets a job -- a dream job as she has no other and needs money -- to film a weekly series for Japanese television called "My American Wife." The show is to showcase different beef-based recipes in order to promote beef consumption in Japan. Jane meets many interesting families (think vegetarian lesbians -- these two were actually my favorite characters), eats some rather inspired beef-based dishes (beef fudge, for instance), and learns that there is more to the cow than just the cow.

What Jane ends up discovering is that not much has changed since Sinclair wrote The Jungle. Chemicals (such as DES, which really did cause a lot of health problems for mothers and infants in the 50s) and inhumane practices (you'll never believe what some of these cows are fed for dinner each night) are still in effect, and these result in meat that may not be as good for you as the FDA would like you to believe. The meat industry is still a market where more is better, no matter how you have to get it. Is it any wonder that people are getting sick?

Vegetarians will love this book. They will point to it and say, "Yes! This proves my point!" Japanese will nod knowingly and take another bite of sushi. Cowherders will cry out "But that's not the way we do it!" And the media will say, "We only show what the public wants to see."

This book opens your eyes and makes you wonder exactly how much of this is true and how much is from the imagination of Ruth Ozeki. You will also be unable to watch the evening newscast without wondering what they aren't telling you.

I think I'll stick to salad for a while.

So it is with Jane Takagi-Little, the hero of Ruth Ozeki's "My Year of Meats." She first appears as an out-of-work (hungry) documentarian who gets an offer to work on a Japanese TV series to be called "My American Wife!" The series pretends to be about America and Americans, but really, "Meat is the message." Every week, a family of "real" Americans will share their life-and their favorite meat recipe. A council of beef producers (BEEF-EX) wants to sell Japanese housewives more meat. I was doubtful, but Jane needed to pay the rent. She bit.

Soon we're on the road with Jane and the meat show. The Japanese production crew needs her language and negotiating abilities to make TV programs with ordinary people. Right away we sense the exploitative flavor of making programs that are more interested in what people eat than who they are. But Jane is interested in people. Yet, she's definitely a edgy character-six androgynous feet tall with streaks of purple hair. First doubtful thing she does is take up with a vaguely menacing guy that she met through phone sex. Hmmm.

Just when we've had about enough of Jane for awhile, the narrative POV shifts to Akiko Ueno, a shy woman who watches My American Wife! at home in Japan and loves the show and really wants to eat more meat. Not coincidentally, Akiko is married to the sponsor's representative. And this is just the beginning of the complications.

Structurally, this is a thoroughly modern text. Instead of a straight narrative line, it weaves together first and third person voices, classical Japanese literature and, of course, meat recipes. But it's never heavy; in fact, it's increasingly hilarious. Some of the most riotous series are exchanges of faxes and emails between the producers and Jane. The slightly mangled syntax of Japanese English is letter perfect. And Jane's obsequious, double-edged replies are masterful-particularly for anyone who's ever had to write such a memo to ones higher-ups. Increasingly, Jane comes into conflict with her producers-ultimately with BEEF-EX itself-and the supposedly fawning memo is her first line of attack.

Why? Because Jane really does care. She finds beauty and nobility in the American heartland and she wants to tell the truth about it-even if that means making meat something of a side dish. And she has the artistic sensibilities to do a great job. First there's the Cajun couple who happen to have adopted 12 orphans of various races. (Think of all the meat they can eat.) Then there's the charming congregation of a primitive Baptist church. Trouble is, their best recipe is for fried chicken-not beef at all--and there's an odd thing about chicken. Wait a minute, these aren't the good corn-fed, wholesome Americans we had in mind. The producers are getting nervous. The pot really comes to a bubble when Jane decides to produce a segment about a really sweet lesbian couple. What's their favorite recipe? Unfortunately...

So now I'm sold. Jane's a keeper. This book is funny. But just when it seems like the novel is sorting itself out into a safe little farce, the gravy starts to burn. Jane starts doing research about the hormone DES-sometimes used as a feed supplement in livestock production. Here, things got distinctly personal for me. Wait a minute, DES? DES is what they mistakenly gave pregnant women back in the 50s and never found out that anything was wrong with it `til their daughters started developing cervical cancer 20 years out. My mother was part of the DES experiment in a Chicago research hospital-she got the placebo, or so I'm told. And every year or so, I get a letter from the DES research council checking to see if I'm alive. But what about Jane? Oh, this could be really bad...But I've got to stop writing about it before I give something away.

Ruth Ozeki is the genuine article. She hits on every level and sneaks around and hits again. The Penguin edition has an informative series of appendices. They include a remarkable interview with Ozeki that convincingly spells out how the book evolved from a series of sketches about her experiences doing TV production. That sense of evolving artistic sensibility and the adventure of documentary research shines through at every turn. I have some critical quibbles about the structure of the ending. But I'm going to zip my trap because I want everyone to read it for themselves. No dessert `til you've finished your main course.

First, if I had to rate the first half on creativity, humor, style, etc. I would surely give this book FIVE stars. Ozeki is a beautiful writer, the phrases and descriptions are exquisite and delightful.The humor sharp, acerbic. In particular, the depiction of cultural clashes between the Japanese crew in America was extremely funny and well-done. Much insight, real honesty and real verisimilitude. And the segments on American families--beautiful, glorious, heartwarming.

But what happened?! As I moved toward the end, my grief was palpable: I cringed. I wailed. I wanted desparately to go back to the beginning. For me, everything went downhill after the silly relationship with Sloane. The main character Jane, who WAS so brash, funny and aggressive, starts to become wimpy, wishy-washy and clueless in the arms of Sloane. Should she have the baby or not? Should she commit to this guy or not? It became a case study of post-feminist angst and it tired pretty quickly.

Secondly, what happened to all those three-dimensional characters? While I agree with the author's views on the beef industry, the characters came off as fake, superficial and cliche. Evil cattle rancher. Busty, young stripper-wife of cattle rancher. Evil wife-beating Japanese man. Timid Japanese housewife. She pits heroic, "good" stock characters against the "bad" cardboard villains of the beef industry. For e.g., the quiet. principled truck driver Dave who points out all the evils of the slaughterhouse seemed less like a solid character and more like a convenient plot device to get the anti-beef lecturing across. Akiko and John start off as delightful characters who also disintegrate into a syrupy soap opera cliche. Ultimately, Ozeki insults our intelligence by not letting us make our own decisions and does an injustice to the characters she originally created; the effect is as jarring and disturbing as a cattle prod.

That was the main problem of this novel. It started off as cynical and witty, but couldn't escape from sentimentality and a need for self-righteous closure. Bunny, Rose, the lesbian couple, etc. all cram themselves in to fit into a plotline that is more ideological rant than art. Ozeki backs off from her challenging narrative to give us a nice, fake bow at the end--somuch like TV! Despite the "hard-hitting documentary" style she professes, Jane (and Ozeki) are really just ... for the "happy ending." That means constructing a villain (the beef industry) at the expense of a good story. Even the graphic violence and bloodiness of the beef industry she tried to gruesomely convey, is all just conveniently part of a sugary-syrupy plot in the end. After Jane loses her baby, reunites with her lover, comesto terms with her Japanese mother, I felt like throwing this book into the offal and refuse of the cows she was describing--BUT not because it was bad! In fact, the first half could be described as 'brilliant'. But because this book let me down so much. That is an even bigger betrayal to me than to have written a bad book from the start. What could have been a promising debut has deteriorated into the plot of a soap opera with an ultimately dissatisfying ending.