Shinjuku Bar Life and "Hit Parade of Tears" by Izumi Suzuki
In Los Angeles, thinking of Shinjuku, Tokyo, on November 12, 2023
The more fascinating bars in Shinjuku are privately owned, and if you enter, you are more like a friend or associate than a stranger. The smallness of the space, which at its best can hold maybe eight people, demands no outsiders because of the sharing of that intimacy. I suspect that business is made outside of the bar to get customers. The bar owner must obtain a series of relationships to get a clientele going. In such a manner, they choose the person; in a way, it is like a painter choosing the type of canvas or paint to do their art. Some bars are geared toward business relationships, and there are many, but the more interesting bars are those interested in a specific lifestyle or aesthetic. There are many music- and cinema-related bars, and usually, literature about those subject matters lies around the premises, and one can read while drinking.
If one goes into a bar and looks over the counter, you see bottles with names on them. Long-term customers usually have a bottle on hand, only for that specific customer and their guests. It’s a private club, but you feel it is an extension of your home if you belong. Not many visitors to Japan see this part of the Japanese landscape. It’s a treat and an honor to be able to enter this world. When I first came to Japan in 1989, a gentleman from Kyushu invited me to a hostess bar in Kitakyushu. They are small but do not have the feel of a Shinjuku bar. For one, the hostess sits with you at your table, and her presence is that of being your audience. She also keeps your drinks going by fixing the whisky and water when it needs to be done. The Shinjuku bar is where you have been invited or taken to a member or friend of the bar owner. In my case, a woman usually runs and owns the bar. She is behind the small counter, and throughout the interior are personal photos, movie posters, or images of music figures. There is something personal, and you are in someone’s private world. At a hostess bar, it is more about money, and there is something alienated about the whole landscape in such a drinking spot.
Before I left for Japan in October, I was reading a collection of short stories, Hit Parade of Tears, by the Japanese writer Izumi Suzuki. She was also an actress, model, and citizen of the 1970s and 1980s Shinjuku world. When I returned from Japan, I finished the book, which reminded me of the Shinjuku taste or touch of culture. The stories are science fiction and slightly surreal but focused on real life, and it is touching that after spending some time in Shinjuku, I found literature that goes with that adventure. Her stories don’t document the life of a bar person, but they reflect on the culture of that world. Her story, Memory of Water, is the most accurate feeling of vertigo ever written in a space. This meant a lot to me since I had a sudden attack of vertigo/panic attack in Tokyo about three weeks ago. It is hard to describe the feeling, but Suzuki captures the essence of such an attack. The author's portraits by the noted and often erotic Nobuyoshi Araki nail the image and time of her stories. The perfect portrait that illustrates the aesthetic and place of her narrations.
Kiichiro Yanashita and Aiko Heihata took Lun*na and me to such a bar in Shinjuku. Interestingly, Aiko told me that one of her favorite writers is Izumi Suzuki. Here, the imaginary and real world collide, and all of it makes perfect sense. I had one drink after another, but it wasn’t the drunkness that was of interest, but more of the place and company that stayed with me. And now, here I’m in Los Angeles, and I’m back to not drinking.
in my short visit to Tokyo, I could tell SOMETHING was going on in these bizarrely small bars. So interesting. New concepts for socializing totally different then ours.... Thanks for the post!