#78 - A Review of Jiro Taniguchi's "The Walking Man"
Campsite Criteria; A Quiet Walk; “Sienna, who is gone…”
Hello, my friends,
What can I say? Having been out of the rhythm of the school years for so long, it’s a minor shock to be concerned with the first day of school. Michael’s is next week and we’re all nervous and excited for his new adventure. Sophie started potty training this week and thus far, it’s going about as expected. Some long dry spells and some accidents. With Michael, we had a few days off and basically had him at home running to the potty to start things off. After that, it took about a year for him to be a completely independent bathroom user.
With Sophie, it’s a lot less dramatic partially because a lot of it is happening at her preschool. I don’t know about other parents, but I get a bit nostalgic thinking about development stages of the past — I remember when Michael walked across the room for the first time, when we got rid of certain toys, and look back fondly on when I could still carry him on my back. Soon, I imagine we’ll be getting rid of Sophie’s bottles, too, since she mostly only asks for “malk” in the morning now and not every day. Parenthood is an emotional experience for me. Maybe that’s why I write about it here a lot. And by gosh, there’s much more of it head!
Campsite Criteria
As you know if you’ve been a reader of HMF, at least this year, camping is one of my hobbies. I went for the very first time a couple of years ago and have since made it a point to explore different campgrounds to determine my preferences. Surprisingly (at least to me), all the campgrounds (and campsites within them) that I’ve been to have been perfectly adequate! There have been incidental issues like people at a neighboring site getting drunk and making loud, late-night confessions while everyone is trying to sleep and, I guess, campsites that have a slight slope that is unnoticeable until you’re trying to sleep, but generally, the campgrounds I’ve been to have been fine. What does one need in a drive-in camping place?
Reasonably clean bathrooms (not too far away)
Some semblance of privacy, like, a few trees between you and the other guy
A camp host that sells firewood
Everything else (place to put the car, firepit, table, outdoors) seems to come standard. Some places have potable water, which is convenient but not a requirement. And the sites tend to be pretty cheap $15-30 per night and easy to reserve on recreation.gov.
I don’t know. I was planning to write a section on what I like in a campsite but now that I’ve started — and considering all of the above — I’ve realized that my only real requirement is a flat place to put the tent. Does that mean I’m ready for hike-in camping?
A Quiet Walk
On our recent camping trip to Reyes Creek Campground, I read Jiro Taniguchi’s highly-regarded flaneuristic graphic novel, The Walking Man (Ponent Mon, 2019). This expanded edition collects short stories in comic form serialized from 1992-2015 with all but two of them on the same theme: The understated walks of a middle-aged man. Based on their style (realistic) and target audience (adults), these unusual stories technically fit into the gekiga genre of Japanese comics, and yet all but a single story (one of the two not featuring the walking man) lack the raw, gritty quality of Yoshihiro Tatsumi’s work, for instance. Indeed, the distinction of The Walking Man as an alternative comic is the opposite; the stories are fortunate and serene, the worst that happens is that the protagonist has his glasses smashed by an errant soccer ball and gets caught in the rain (in two stories), but he doesn’t seem to mind either circumstance!
So are these plotless stories? Not exactly. But the plots are very low on the Richter scale. In “Tree Climbing” our walking man is ambling in the park with his dog, Snowy, when he comes upon some kids whose model airplane got stuck in a tree. Walking man climbs the tree and gets it down, but not without enjoying the view!
“A Reed Screen” is entirely comprised of the walking man lugging a large reed screen across town on a blisteringly hot day, just sweating and suffering the whole way, so him and his wife (and Snowy) could get some shade in their little house. Besides Snowy, walking wife is the only other recurring character in the stories. Usually she’s at home at the end of the walk, happily engaged in household chores, but sometimes, as in “Starry, Starry Night” the two meet out and about and have some cake at the park.
The stories in The Walking Man are unassuming and charming in a way that’s rarely seen in contemporary literature. In “Dawn”, a drunk walking man (also a salary man, apparently) get delivered to his house late at night by a taxi but doesn’t have his keys. Instead of waking walking wife, he goes on a slipshod stroll through town, finally finding a tall apartment building. Striding up to the roof, he marvels at the view before slipping onto his bum to welcome a bleary sunrise.
In most books, stories like “Dawn” would end up with some kind of consequence for the protagonist’s transgression, but The Walking Man is not like that; the other shoe never drops; everything is fine, happy endings all around! For instance, in the appropriately named “The Night Swim”, walking man goes for an impromptu night swim in a public pool after it has closed for the day. “Went for a swim,” he says upon his return home. “Huh! You’re lucky!” walking wife replies. But, dear reader, he’s not. Walking world is just a nice place to live!
The final three stories are a little different than the rest of the collection, but only one (“Tokyo Illusory Journey”) is truly distinct from the rest. In that story, the protagonist is a jaded salaryman who discovers unexpected emotions following the end of a fleeting affair with a mysterious co-worker. This story is more in line with the typical gekiga vibe.
This is the third book I have read by renowned mangaka Jiro Taniguchi. In The Walking Man, Taniguchi demonstrates that his ability goes beyond creating stories that stimulate primarily through nostalgia (A Distant Neighborhood) or visual qualities (Venice). The Walking Man finds its rhythm in identifying meaning in everyday occurrences without succumbing to dullness or cliché — it’s a challenging balance that Taniguchi manages beautifully. A similar quality was captured in Wim Wenders’ 2023 movie Perfect Days, but I’d argue that from the standpoint of pure commonplace, The Walking Man does it better.
“Sienna, who is gone…”
This preschool class is a cliff, some stay for kindergarten there, most move on. Summer is ending and the rapture has begun. Michael's friends are slowly disappearing. Some on family vacations. Some cared for at home alongside older siblings. Some are starting kindergarten early. The sign-in sheet is becoming bare, 15 down to four or five. I saw the Zack's cubbyhole nametag on the ground outside, a week ago. That was his last day. The craft boards on the walls are empty. Drop offs and pick-ups are so quiet. When asking Michael who he'd played with these days, his list of names is short. The other day, we were walking through a hallway lined with drawings by students. I recognized some names. Others were not signed. Michael pointed up, "That one's by Sienna, who is gone." Next week Michael, too, will move on.
Time Machine
Here’s what I wrote in HMF a year ago (in issue #25):
A Stylish Morning Coffee: Describing a nice morning spent reading at a coffee and visiting a bookstore.
Live Music?: Expressing ambivalence about going to see live music.
Our Final Hope is Sleep: Talking about the importance of getting enough sleep.
I noticed that my friend Melinda commented on issue #25. Since that post was written she has died. I met Melinda when I worked at the Lancaster Library in my first assignment as a librarian. She had just moved to the Antelope Valley from Chicago and joined our fledgling little writers group at the library. We became friends and it was Melinda who married me and Ashley! Melinda was a uniquely talented person who treasured her friends and was treasured in return. R.I.P. Melinda Hunter!
Your family is lucky to have you savoring each moment of family-hood! I wasn't raised on Tintin - but my husband was & can't understand why folks here renamed Milou as Snowy
For me, Snowy will always be Tintin's dog, and I wonder whether Jiro Taniguchi also had him in mind. My guess is that he read the Tintin books, as an early instance of graphic novels. I now want to read "The Walking Man."