Tokyo Junkie

Robert Whiting’s Tokyo Junkie traces his connection to Japan’s megacity over more than half a century, covering his relationships, notable encounters, and work on a number of influential books and articles about Japanese culture, sport, and politics since the 1960s. Whiting doesn’t pull punches. He offers an unvarnished look at many layers of Tokyo, along with key figures and events, from the construction boom leading up to the 1964 Summer Olympics to the activities of yakuza syndicates, the inner workings of the Yomiuri Giants, foreign ballplayers in Japan, press freedoms, government missteps and backroom deals, professional wrestling, the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake, and much more. His personal experiences and the city itself take turns at the center.

When I heard Whiting was releasing a memoir, I was eager to read it, and a little surprised he had beaten me to the title, as I had recently finished a first draft of a novel called Tokyo Junkie. When I moved here in the mid-90s, a “gaijin-house” mate passed along what was then considered essential reading in English on Japan. Most of it had been written by foreigners who had immersed themselves deeply in a wide range of subjects. Among them were Alex Kerr’s Lost Japan, Ian Buruma’s The Missionary and the Libertine, and, of course, Whiting’s You Gotta Have Wa. These books helped shape my early impressions and made some sense of a place and culture that often felt bewildering from every angle. I still have, and value, several of them. I somehow lost the Buruma, regrettably, so if anyone has a first edition they’re willing to part with, do let me know.

I also enjoyed Whiting’s Tokyo Underworld (1999), arguably one of the most compelling accounts of the city’s darker side, alongside Jake Adelstein’s Tokyo Vice (2009). Highlights in Tokyo Junkie include Whiting’s recollections of interviews with Nicola Zappetti and his encounters with the yakuza. It can be repetitive at times, perhaps unavoidably so, but it remains consistently engaging and informative. The short chapters, often just two or three pages, make it easy to read either in long stretches or in smaller portions. I’ve shelved Tokyo Junkie next to Ian Buruma’s memoir A Tokyo Romance (2018), and would recommend it to anyone familiar with Whiting’s work, or simply drawn to Tokyo.