100 Books Like The Floating World

The Woman in the Dunes (Suna No Onna, Sand Woman) was a 1962 novel written by Kobo Abe. The story is about an amateur entomologist who ends up as a forced partner to a recently widowed woman living at the bottom of a sand dune. The story, of course, goes far deeper than that.

While reading the book I recalled the Tottori Sand Dunes on Japan’s West Coast, one of the most surprising landscapes in the island nation. After reading the book and visiting Tottori I watched the 1964 film adaption of the book directed by Hiroshi Teshigahara and starring Eiji Okada and Kyoko Kishida. It is one of the few instances where the film is at least equal to or perhaps surpasses the book version. I highly recommend first reading both books then watching the films to see how skillfully the written word can be converted… show more.

My first somewhat clear understanding of what Zen is, and perhaps isn’t, came from the reading of this book.

I have seen in my own life when I’m doing photography or playing golf that I can enter a state of Zen. Nothing else exists while I’m depressing the shutter or hitting that little white ball. The concept of mindfulness is something that is much easier to read about than put into practice, but reading this book has helped me take strides toward living in the present.  

Hototogisu (The Cuckoo)  is a Japanese novel by Kenjiro Tokutomi under the pen name Roka Tokutomi. It was initially published in serialized form between 1898 and 1899. My English copy, renamed “The Heart of Nami-san,” dates back to 1918.

I first became aware of the book when I was in Ikaho working on my Japanese hot spring series. One of the ryokans there had a small museum dedicated to the author. The story takes place over a century ago, but the interactions between a couple and their in-laws could take place not only in present-day Japan but almost anywhere around the globe. The ending (which I won’t give away) is very much a product of Japan, a country where simplistic Hollywood happy endings are seldom, if ever, appreciated. 

While I have read books by Kawabata, Mishima, and other well-known Japanese writers, there’s something very approachable and identifiable in the works of Haruki Murakami.

This book includes both fiction and nonfiction works, both equally enthralling:  “Shizuko Akashi” from Underground, his nonfiction book on the 1995 Tokyo subway attack, is shockingly powerful, especially for those who have ridden those cars many times, and the short story “Ice Man,” a story that, for some reason, I particularly identified with.

What best list would be complete without at least one volume centered on art? Going beyond a focus on single-sheet woodblock prints, this fascinating study takes a broad approach to the so-called “floating world” or demi-monde to consider printed books, including those of an erotic nature. As the title indicates, the book reveals that the collaborative process went well beyond the illustrator to include publishers, brothel owners, and other commercial interests. The author’s reflections on the status of art, the contemporary definition of beauty, and the physicality of the body as perceived by the Japanese will draw the reader in.

Trede’s book reproduces the woodblock prints from Hiroshige’s One Hundred Famous Views of Edo. When I first visited Tōkyō I felt overwhelmed by the city’s enormous size and complexity. Where to go and what to see? This collection of prints provided me with a way to begin exploring the many districts and neighborhoods of the city. While some of the places featured in the prints are well-known and recognizable today, others aren’t. Visiting the sites depicted, I could see how different modern Tōkyō was from nineteenth-century Edo, which led me to research the history of Tōkyō and how and why it has changed so much in the two centuries since Hiroshige produced his prints.

Who could resist a book whose topics range from tea caddies, Chinese and Japanese tea bowls and paintings, severed heads, swords, falcons, and even a deified hegemon (Tokugawa Ieyasu)? This book about “things” and the famous people who collected them in the late sixteenth (before the onset of the Tokugawa period) and the first few decades of the seventeenth century uses material culture as a window into the politics and society of the military elite. It will entice those who are interested in non-linear history and the social life of things.

This was the first comprehensive academic history book of Japan that I read, and it is still the best. I go back to it regularly to check on details and refresh my memory. Jansen writes fluently and maintains reader engagement with a great pace, never too little information, never too much. His subject matter helps, as this period is well researched and blessed with plentiful source material to give a full picture. Highly recommended as a serious starter in Japanese history and culture.

Histories of Japan’s encounter with the West typically start from the premise that prior to its “opening” by the American Commodore Perry in 1853, Japan was a “closed” society that shunned contact with the outside world. This book, which explores the relationship between the Tokugawa shogunate and the Dutch East India Company (the VOC), presents a radically different story: one in which one of the world’s most ruthless commercial operators was forced to humble itself before the shogun. It’s an essential corrective to anyone who equates “world history” with the rise of the West.

Laura Nenzi’s book discusses the role of travel in the formation of identity, using primary sources that derive from travel accounts of Edo Japan. Nenzi looks at personal travel diaries and brings an anthropological view on the subject seeing travel as a self-discovery process, while also paying attention to differences in the experience of the literati travelers and the less educated commoners for whom, with the rise of the market economy, the roads and their pleasures became more accessible. This brings to life the changes in the earlier literati tradition of the meisho (famous places) with the rise of commodification of both products (meibutsu) and religious practices.

Nenzi’s most unique contribution is shining a light on the travels of women, which still remain an elusive subject in historical narratives of Japan. Nenzi shows that the hierarchies of Edo Japan were defied by the transgressive potential of travel, as the roads… show more.