Jiichiro Yamate (1899-1978) -- Salt Bean Saltiness, the Clappers of a Lecture

Jiichiro Yamate (1899-1978) -- Salt Bean Saltiness, the Clappers of a Lecture
The brush of Jiichiro Yamate rises with the sound of the clappers of his discourse. His anecdote about being chased by poverty at a young age and weeping over salty mountain beans symbolizes the "memory of hunger" that runs through his stories. The fatigue that remains in the worker's body and the small hope that connects him to tomorrow. Yamate kept his eyes on the reader's heart, which holds these two things at the same time. That is why his good and bad advice was not a cautionary stick, but functioned like a cane that lightened the fatigue of life for a moment.

The historical background is of two fault lines. Before the war, urban popular culture swelled, and newspaper serials, magazines, and movies flourished, fostering readers who sought "gory" stories. Yamate's fast-paced storytelling in the tone of a kodan (storyteller's tale) fits perfectly into this circuit, and he produced a succession of period pieces such as "Hadaka Daimyo," "Tekka Bogyo," and "Seiun no Oni (The Demon of Blue Clouds). The films are full of sword fights, righteousness, humanity, and the thrill of defeating evil. However, at the bottom of this exhilaration lies the author's reserve, as he knows the pain of poverty. He may make you laugh, but he does not shun you. He lets them win, but does not make them conceited. With a craftsman's timing, he creates excitement without disturbing the reader's breathing.

Defeat has turned the map of values inside out, but it has not stopped Yamate's work. Burned ruins, black markets, and long rationing. In the days when working was not rewarded, entertainment novels became a "soup kitchen for the soul. More and more rental bookstores appeared on street corners, and soiled copies of the novels found their way into the hands of workers on their way home from work, housewives, and demobilized soldiers. There, Yamate further clarified the rhythm of the storytelling, and without clouding the outlines of good and evil, he let the reader's heart go straight to the heart with the conclusion of good and evil. It is not simplicity, but the power of organization. What was needed in this time of chaos was a world where reason made sense, at least within the story.

The shadows of family history are certainly etched in the margins of the pages. When the author describes the return of her eldest son from Siberian internment as "a bell ringing on the eve of history," the reader is left with a double picture of the joy of the individual and the horrors of the times. Whenever evil was defeated in the story, somewhere in the author's heart, a hand must have been ringing for the "time that could not be recovered. Yamate's painfulness is not only founded on the lightness of escaping from reality. The ethics of giving a share to the losers, a face to the weak, and respect to the common people, quietly support the story behind the words.

Yamate Jiichiro's craftsmanship cannot be fully measured by mass-produced numbers. His art of subtly changing intonation without missing the same tune is similar to that of a Yose performer. He knows the cliché, but stretches it a beat to suit the audience's mood of the day. Within the framework of good and evil, he is not lazy, not conceited, and keeps his promises. From prewar to postwar, guaranteeing the common people a few dozen minutes to forget their daily drudgery - it is this sense of responsibility that turned Yamate's "gaiety" into a consolation prize for the times. The sorrow that stings the mouth a little, like the saltiness of salted beans, makes the aftertaste certain.