I Don't Want to! (Iya da! Iya da!)

Written and Illustrated by Sena Keiko Fukuinkan Shoten

Translated by Peter Howlett and Richard McNamara

RIC Publications

Russian writer Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910) once said that truth always comes from the infant's mouth, not the adult's. Learning emotional subterfuge takes decades of conformity and obedience to societal rules and conventions. Unfortunately, the art of hiding one's feelings, which to children is tantamount to lying, comes at a price. Which is why when adults say one thing and mean another a child's innate sense of fairness is understandably outraged.

Lisa, the little girl in Keiko Sena's I Don't Want to! (called "Ruru-chan" in Japanese), like most children her age, is too young to understand the duplicitous behavior of adults. What her mother says clearly differs from what she means. The child thus voices her displeasure at this perceived injustice in anguished cries of iya da! iya da! (I don't want to!).

This goes some way to explain why so many children in Japan are seen to vent their frustrations in public and, similarly, why so many Japanese mothers live in constant terror of their child's tantrums.

Children are not bound by adult concepts such as amae (one's learned dependence on society's tolerance and kindness). Similarly, the terms enryo (humble consideration of others) and giri (repaying debts from a sense of loyalty) are all beyond a child's comprehension. So are haji (shame and guilt) and ikigai (human existence as seen in a mother's love for her child)--these virtues are once again the result of years of socialization, and thus have little or no bearing on a child wanting to vent his or her anger.

For example, ninjo- (a universal feeling of love and sympathy) takes many forms. The love between a mother and her child is the most obvious example that describes it, but when frustrated, even ninjo may seem more like punishment than love to a child and as such lose the special meaning it has to adults only.

On a daily basis, individuals in Japan are prevented from expressing their true feelings by unspoken social rules like these. It would, however, be a gross oversimplification to think that the root of this failure to communicate between adults and children lies in dichotomous concepts such as tatemae and honne, used in everyday communication. (Tatemae describes what a person says and honne what a person means.)

All the same, it is obvious that for Lisa, the problem does lie in her inability to distinguish the subtle difference between tatemae and honne, or any other concepts for that matter. Ironically but unsurprisingly, the values of sincerity and honesty so prized by adults among themselves are not appreciated in children. It is the resultant feelings of guilt, inadequacy and rage in children that produce the "twisted" personalities in adult life that Tolstoy also observes.

In I Don't Want to!, the misunderstanding between adults and children is expressed in a uniquely Japanese way. That is, not by virtue of what is said, but in what the reader is assumed to understand. Without some cultural knowledge, it would appear as if Lisa's mother were placing adult demands on her infant daughter, as seen on Page 10:

Sorenara okasan iya datte iu wa.

So, if that's how you want it. Mommy's going to say, "I don't want to!"

And, also, on Page 24:

Daijina kumachan mo iya datte iu yo.

...and your precious, one and only teddy bear, are all going to say, "I don't want to!"

And, later, on Page 26, in what would be seen as an ultimatum:

Soshitara Ruru-chan wa do suru no?

Then what are you going to do, Lisa?

In fact they express the wishful thinking of a desperate parent during a communication breakdown between child and parent.

In Japan, childish tantrums are not treated as being the child's fault. Rather, tantrums are tolerated silently, and it is thought that a mushi (insect) inside the child is responsible for kan (unruly behavior).

A child exhibiting a violent temper or hysterical tantrums similar to Lisa's would be described as kan no mushi. This child may be rushed off to a shrine, along with other "infected" infants, to have the "insect" exorcised, which is known as mushi fuji. Notice again, the Japanese reluctance to directly attribute impulsive behavior to an individual, but rather attribute it to something external.

In general, Japanese believe that pain is transitory and always followed by pleasure. This explains the quiet resignation a doting Japanese will show in tolerating the tantrums of their "infected" infant. Tantrums are simply transient events to be viewed with akirame (acute passivity). It is hoped that doing nothing will lead to the child developing the most desired personality trait of all: 'f'1/4 sunao (compliance and trustworthiness).

I Don't Want to! addresses the problem of tantrums and what can be done about them, if only tacitly. The fact that a bestselling children's storybook does so is significant, insightful and very brave. A verbatim translation of the story's altruistic intentions minus the cultural underpinnings could easily be misunderstood as unkindness to children having tantrums. For those eager to understand Japan's culture and language, such a misreading would be to miss what is so exquisitely and inexorably Japanese: their ineffability.

McNamara, a British-trained psychologist, is a lecturer at Kumamoto Prefectural University, while Howlett, born and raised in Hokkaido, teaches at Hakodate La Salle Junior and Senior High School. Their translation works include the "Guri and Gura" series.

Copyright 2004 The Yomiuri Shimbun