The Masked Writer: Uketsu

“All right, everyone, now I’m going to show you a picture.”

The author

This is the author: Uketsu. Uketsu wears a mask that looks like it was made from papier mâché. They are a public figure with nearly 1.7 million YouTube followers. No face. No name, except this ambiguous pseudonym, UKETSU (雨穴), roughly translated as “rain hole/ rain pit.” The writer is a mystery by themselves, one that drove many Japanese fans crazy. They started over six years ago to upload online videos, first short ones, then they expanded the concept and the videos’ length. This visual media tends towards the genre Uketsu masters with skilful complexity: horror. Delving into the macabre and the grotesque, for example by turning asparagus into human fingers (e.g. “Fingers Panic”) or clothes into meat slices (e.g., “IMG 1304 10”), Uketsu looks into their own routine and social life, tackling serious topics such as consumerism and the covid-19 crisis.

The mask itself could be a hint towards this, too. I first looked at Uketsu and thought of No-Face from Miyazaki Hayao’s Ghibli movie Spirited Away. No-Face has a long black body and a white mask, adding ambiguity and symbolism to the story. If one thinks about No-Face, there is also Noh theatre and masks. During their performances, Noh actors wear masks to embody another character, male or female, but not necessarily of their own sexes. Be it as a reference to other art forms, which Uketsu navigates freely, or simply to hide their own identity, the costume raises another larger mystery among the ones the Japanese horror writer elaborates.

The Successful Translation

According to Uketsu’s English translator, Jim Rion, “while Strange Houses was a fascinating book, Uketu’s second Strange Pictures 変な絵, was perhaps a more solidly structured, more confident work.” [1] So the translator decided to work on this second book with editor Daniel Seton and publisher Pushkin Press to introduce Uketsu to the international scene.

Strange Pictures divides into four chapters, each of which could stand as a short story, but readers soon realize they form one big narrative stretched over several years and generations. It opens with the Konno family and the disappearance of Yuta, an only child. Leaving behind only a mysterious drawing made in class for Mother’s day, Yuta’s “mama” Naomi tries to decipher the mystery of the eerie black stain smudging the lines. From there unfolds a long history of pictures drawn by more characters, who are all directly linked to the Konno family. Journalists Isamu Kumai and Shunsuke Iwata dig up the dark secrets of this family’s past.

The success of this novel lies without doubt in the interactions and implications of readers in the story. Far from being stand-byers waiting for the truth to reveal itself on the page, readers are involved in the plot. They are the only investigators. Including the actual drawings achieves that and demonstrates Uketsu, the Japanese horror writer, real effort to hook the readers’ attention from beginning to end. They do not hesitate to complicate the narrative, something that for once does not urge us to wolf down the novel but, instead, to close it for a while and think about our rationale in solving the case. In doing so, Uketsu reverses the act of reading; they encourage us to imagine, to suspect, and to create a tangent to the list of the story’s possibilities. In other words, this novel is stimulating. Both for readers and for Uketsu.

Reader Engagement and Artistic Diversity

The success of this novel lies without doubt in the interactions and implications of readers in the story. Far from being stand-byers waiting for the truth to reveal itself on the page, readers are involved in the plot. They are the only investigators. Including the actual drawings achieves that and demonstrates Ukestu’s real effort to hook the readers’ attention from beginning to end. They do not hesitate to complicate the narrative, something that for once does not urge us to wolf down the novel but, instead, to close it for a while and think about our rationale in solving the case. In doing so, Uketsu reverses the act of reading; they encourage us to imagine, to suspect, and to create a tangent to the list of the story’s possibilities. In other words, this novel is stimulating. Both for readers and for Uketsu.

Another strength of this novel is indeed the diversity in the depiction of art. While all the drawings are not from artists per se (and by artists, I mean professionals like graphists or professors who studied the field), readers can witness the whole process of thinking the lines, reading through them. Art becomes not only a way of expressing oneself, but new forms of narrative threaded with words. Both complement each other to create a literary escape game for mind gamers. This integration of art into the narrative speaks to the ingenuity of the Japanese Horror writer, whose ability to blend visual and literary forms invites a deeper engagement with the material.

Behind the curtain of Japanese society

This narrative complexity speaks for the theme of the novel and turtles all the way down to uproot the systemic issues occurring in Japan, such as the pressure of aiming for the nuclear family, of having children, and the psychological and emotional wounds developed in women accordingly. While the Japanese government currently works hard to fight the low birthrate (e.g., introducing new measures such as financial support to university students or ensuring an increase in monthly wage to help with childcare for low-income families [2] [3]), women are more and more encouraged to get pregnant for the sake of Japan’s economy.

“They named their son Takeshi.

Her husband had thought of it.” (p.195)

The novel also explores the side effects of patriarchy on men, focusing on Naomi’s husband, whose deep-rooted strict education impacts the familial environment and marriage. Such a social commentary on the family structure provides interesting, nuanced characters and invites us to consider the real victims of today’s patriarchy: children. Whether that be through Yuta or Naomi’s childhood, readers get to observe the impact of systemic violence in Japan.

Pushkin Press thus offers us an amazing first translation of Uketsu’s work, which I strongly enjoyed reading and will recommend to readers who need to dive into a compelling, thrilling story. It will be released on January 14^th, 2025.

Pre-order Strange Pictures at your local bookstore or via Pushkin Press’s website.

Sources

[1] Jim Rion, “Translating Uketsu.” Available at: https://jimrion.com/2024/09/17/translating-uketsu/

[2] Jiji, “Japan discloses more details of costs to fight low birthrate.” The Japan Times, April 12, 2024. Available at: https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2024/04/12/japan/japan-birthrate-cost-detail/

[3] Jiji, “Japan to boost spending on measures to tackle low birthrate.” The Japan Times, December 12, 2023. Available at: https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2023/12/12/japan/japan-childcare-spending/

Drawing by Elisa Taillefesse-Barbosa, based upon the work of cover designer Luke Bird.