Horses, Horses, in the End the Light Remains Pure

Hideo Furukawa

4 ideas

  1. A novelist drives into Fukushima's coast

    His account of the flattened towns and the invisible contamination is repeatedly interrupted by a character from his own earlier fiction, who appears inside the narrative. The trip shows a writer finding that plain documentary prose cannot hold what he saw.

  2. Fiction breaks in where reportage fails

    When a catastrophe exceeds what factual description can carry, the witness's imagination does not stay out of the account but pushes into it. Admitting fiction into testimony can be more honest than suppressing it, because it records how the event actually registered in a mind. The blurred line between report and invention therefore becomes part of the evidence of trauma rather than a failure of accuracy.

  3. Tohoku as the capital's supply periphery

    Read Tohoku's history as a record of the northeast sending resources to the political center. Warhorses, soldiers and rice went south, and in modern times electricity from the Fukushima Daiichi plant powered the Tokyo region rather than the local area. Seen this way, the nuclear disaster continues an older pattern in which the periphery supplies the center and then carries the costs itself.

  4. Horses as the region's buried history

    Horses give Furukawa a thread through Tohoku's past, from animals bred for war and the Soma Nomaoi horse festival to households where people and horses lived under one roof. The horses left behind in the evacuated zone expose the one-sided bond between humans and the animals they bred for their own purposes. Following the animal, rather than the human institution, brings forward a longer history that official accounts of the disaster leave out.

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