
































The Art of Aging 

Review by Sarah Hall

Aging and Loss: Mourning and Maturity in Contemporary Japan

by Jason Danely

Rutgers University Press, 2014

Jason Danely’s exploration of the experiences of Japanese elders and their negotiation of aging in his

book  follows  along  what  one  would  very  much  imagine  was  his  natural  progression  of  thought,

throughout his years of research on the topic. Overtly artistic in nature, the author invites his readers in

to inspect  the intricacies  of Japanese culture,  as an art  teacher gathers  his  students to marvel at  a

masterpiece. In turns humorous, tense and poignant, Danely’s vignettes of his conversations with his

informants allow their voices to seep through, despite the boundaries of translation, and a sensitive

reader will be allowed to feel some fraction of the emotions embodied during Danely’s research. 

This  is  not  the  sort  of  ethnography  that  is  easily  summarized.  Each  chapter  of  the  book

addresses  different  emotional  states,  related  through  the  lens  of  Danely’s  interactions  with  his

informants, and incorporating broader players such as the Japanese government and the strain of having

a super-aging society. Throughout the narrative runs a strain of devotion to family and ancestors and

deep-seeded fears of becoming a burden, of needing to be taken care of by those who once depended

upon you. “To most of the older people I spoke with, longevity meant that in spite of the ‘promise of

adulthood’ and self-cultivation, eventually they would become a burden on others” (p. 4). Over and

over again, informants relate to Danely a desire to not burden others, in terms of both physical need,

but also, in the case of one man, Sato-san, an emotional burden. Struggling with such topics as cultural

authenticity, a good death and self-value, the reader is enveloped in Danely’s almost personal interest in

these  people.  More  friends  than  informants,  he  relates  times  of  helping  Mori-san  to  move  house,

gardening, volunteering, and amusing flirtations. In all of this, the impression is built of the author as a



neighbor,  of  having  lived  in  Kyoto,  in  truth,  rather  than  the  more  traditional  anthropologist  as  a

temporary guest. He ends with an offering of his own sense of loss, having completed his work and his

time in Japan. “Was I now abandoning them too?” (p. 186).

If fear of dependency is what they related to Danely, devotion to the memorialization of their

dead family and ancestors is how they largely illustrated and dealt with that fear. “The most prominent

way in which Japanese culture shapes and is shaped by the experiences of older adults is through

images and ritual practices for the ancestors and spirits of the family dead...” (p. 12). The theatre of

memorialization is related to the reader as a way for the elderly to demonstrate to their heirs the way

they (the elders) wish to be treated after they pass, to be remembered and respected. Informants who

seem more content are those who have better relations with their families, and trust that their families

will do right by them, viewing kinship as an exchange (p. 68). “Circulating sentiments perpetuates the

bond of memory between the living and the dead, and with each turning back to face the departed, there

is a sense of seeing one’s own future as well...” (p. 31).

While  largely  working  for  this  piece,  Danely’s  voice  is,  at  times,  fairly  dripping  in

sentimentality.  The  author’s  artistic  inclinations,  and  his  flowery  descriptions  will,  perhaps,

occasionally cause a foot to tap in impatience for something slightly more empirical. Long passages,

waxing particularly on the beauty and mystery of the mountains and the cemeteries – “There was

something dreamlike about  this  sudden transformation  from city  to  mountain,  the ghostly  wisteria

growing wild through the treetops or the traces of wild pigs digging up bamboos shoots in the spring.”

(p. 70) – while poignant, may detract from the point he tries to make. 

From a linguistic standpoint, Danely’s insertion of many original Japanese words (rather than

merely translating it and asking for the reader’s faith) and occasional subsequent discussion on the

possible nuances of the chosen vocabulary brought in some intriguing peripheral points of interest, in

addition to granting extra confidence in Danely’s command of the Japanese language. 

This book is well-written, easy to read, but rather than falling into simplicity, invites the reader

into deep reflection on the proffered narratives. It is a work that often evokes more of an emotional

reaction than a purely intellectual one, and that may very well be the author’s intent and purpose, and

the strength of this qualitative piece.   

Sarah  Hall recently  received  her  MA in  medical  anthropology  from  the  University  of  Colorado,

Denver. She currently works in Thailand.



© 2015 Sarah Hall


