We Will Kill Each Other

Battle Royale
Koushun Takami

After reading and posting about The Hunger Games and Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins months back, I kept reading about Battle Royale and it's apparent similarity with Collins' bestsellers. Battle Royale? It sounded familiar to me but nothing comes to mind. Hence, Google. When the first lines of results came out I had to stop reading because I had a eureka moment. I knew where I first encountered it: a review of an apparently very violent Japanese film of the same title way, way back in a magazine. My gray cells still had that on file: violent high school students killing each other as part of a game. Reading that Google link, I learned that the film was based on the book written by Koushun Takami in 1999. I knew I had to get the book.

The plot is this: in an alternate Japan, called Republic of Greater East Asia, a school bus filled with 42 students of Shiroiwa Junior High School's third year Class B was transported surreptitiously to an island location wherein the drugged students woke up with collars on their necks and an instructor named Kinpatsu Sakamochi thereafter told them that the class had been selected to participate in the Battle Enrichment No. 68 Program, or simply the Program for that year. This elicited a shocked and scared response from the kids. Why? What's the program all about? Students have to kill each other until only one of them is left standing. The rules? None with respect to the killing but the kids should not even attempt to escape the island otherwise a remote trigger will detonate the collars on their necks. Also, to ensure that the kids actually kill each other, the island has a number of forbidden zones increasing in frequency as the hours go by. Collars of the kids caught within the zones will detonate as well, ensuring swift deaths to those simply hiding. Oh and as a final warning against those who would rather not play the game; the collars will detonate if nobody dies within a 24-hour period. Provisions? All kids are given a day pack each, filled with an unknown weapon plus two water bottles and bread. The prize? An autographed photo of the Great Dictator not to mention being set for life. The purpose? We'll get to that later. Much later. In stark and simple language then (given that I read the English translation of Yuji Oniki, that and I cannot even speak much less read Japanese), readers, like the characters, are thrust into the battle with nothing but bare knowledge of everyone else save that they are all your classmates. You start asking yourself what would you do if you're one of them?

In those first few pages alone you know you're in for a violent ride. Heck, even the chapter headings aren't exactly chapter headings but act as a counter to the number of students left in the game! Oh ok, I'll stop with the details. It's best left to the reader, after all.

From the start it's basically a book about Shuya Nanahara and those around him. He was the focal person, introduced first with a short backstory. His friend was killed by Sakamochi during the Program announcement and he thereafter vowed to protect the girl, Noriko Nakagawa, his friend's crush. But protecting the girl and ensuring his safety against a backdrop of classmates kiling each other for survival is a major feat to accomplish, one that is unattainable, at best. Until he learns to trust others. And so we go to the purpose of the game not mentioned by Sakamochi: distrust. The Program is there to sow distrust among the young of the Republic of Greater East Asia. To let it take root from the very beginning and ensure the dictatorship's hold over the country. That's it, in a nutshell.

This simple yet twisted understanding of how a dictatorship regime works in the Program grounds this novel to something relevant and relatable. At an age where your main concerns are normally about school and crushes, being set loose in the island with a weapon and a motto "We will kill each other" will probably unnerve you to the point of insanity which some students succumbed to, one way or another. Still, there are those whose aim is to survive, rather to win.

Switching point of views made all the characters accessible to the reader. There were 42 students in Class B; you don't have to memorize their names. But once you start reading, you start knowing them and start finding something in them that speaks to you: you'd relate with the class couple who sought each other, you'd relate with the friends planning a possible escape, you'd relate with the shock of seeing a good friend kill another in front of you, you'd relate with the duplicity of others, you relate with the doubt, the unrequited love, finding a sense of purpose and so forth. It's high school at its worst and yet bringing out the best in some, obviously worst in others. And of course there's Sakamochi. While his appearance was brief, everytime he does so is enough to make one's blood boil. A part of you also get him. He is after all a mere soldier of the despot, correct? Yet you want to just tear him to bits simply by being a soldier of the despot.

Still, this is Shuya's story.

And while it's a story about survival in a despotic regime it's also a warning against losing one's freedom. The characters here have their little acts of rebellion compiled in dossiers by government agents, which can be as minimal as listening to rock music or as big as hacking into the government computers. Oh yes, Big Brother of the Republic of Greater East Asia!

Lest we forget, it's also a story that needs an ending and Takami provides one that is sure to leave a mark on the reader. At least for me.

I wished I had read this first before The Hunger Games and Catching Fire. Because now I see Katniss' story in Takami's lenses and Panem pales in comparison. But I'll get to that, hopefully tomorrow.

This story might not be a good match to those who abhor violence in their reading material considering that the main premise of the book is for the kids to kill each other. But it is more than that. The story deals with young people's psyche set against an oppressive government which has a different culture and its own set of biases than the West. Obviously it's not a book meant to lift your spirits and make you joyful as you turn in the last page. No magical genie here to wish you could go back to the you that was prior to reading this. Heck, even the author doubted if the book would be well-received which can be gleaned from his own dedication in the book:

I dedicate this to everyone I love. Even though it might not be appreciated.

Thank you, Mr. Takami for bringing forth this version of the world, for reminding us of simple yet good things in life: love, our individual freedoms and our values. And that fate, no matter how tricky, will reveal us for who we are.

Other interesting points of view:

Bermudaonion's Weblog
Both Eyes Book Blog
Into the Wardrobe
Medieval Bookworm
My Friend Amy
S. Krishna's Books
Steph Su Reads
The Wertzone
Word of Nathan

Hear Them

No Matter How Loud I Shout: A Year in the Life of Juvenile Court
Edward Humes

I remember a local Coca-Cola commercial decades ago of a young lady singing a song that starts with the lines "I am the future of the world/ I am the hope of my nation" and then was joined later by a choir of young girls and boys singing of a brighter tomorrow. It was one of those ads that make you think of sunshiny future of fulfilled dreams not to mention thirst-quenching glass of icy Coke. It was a kind of ad that would seem unreal to the bunch of young men and women featured in Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Edward Humes' account of his year observing California's juvenile court. A year's account of the lives not just of the kids accused of committing despicable crimes, but of the people in and around the court as well: the public defender, the prosecutorial team, the private counsels, the judges, the commissioners, and the victims.

I start by saying this: the book was first published in 1995. Go back fifteen years and imagine what you were doing back then; think about the time and the kind of life you were living. And then read about these kids, these people around them, and the system that apparently hasn't helped them at all.

Humes' account revolve around the basic premise, as far as I can tell, of the study made that juvenile courts are not doing the kids any good. The kids, the public defenders, the prosecution, the judges and the victims know that in varying degrees. And their stories are told by Humes in words that are simple, understandable and yet visceral in their impact.

To say that Humes merely observed is not categorically true. He did, yes. But he also taught writing to a handful of juveniles in detention. It's where we learn the stories of the kids, particularly seven of them: Elias, George, Shorty, Ronald, Carla, Geri and John. Most of them were gangbangers. Some of them committed murder. Some were wards of the state. Most of them are poor. And some of them know that they could get off easily even if convicted, would get out by the time they are twenty-five and with a sealed record to boot, like the case tried by Peggy Beckstrand for the prosecution:

The murders occurred nine days before Ronald turned sixteen.

"Nine days," Peggy mutters to herself at least once a week. Each time, she examines the calendar again, hoping somehow, she has miscalculated. She sent away for a true copy of Ronald's birth certificate, hoping for some discrepancy. It is sitting on her desk back at the office. But the nine days stand. And that inconsequential number of days means Ronald Duncan cannot be tried or imprisoned as an adult.

Thing is, some pages aren't like that. Some days you read about a sixteen year old gangbanger who just happens to be there, who never fired a gun and yet since he's with the perpetrator he's also charged with murder. And when you're sixteen in the USA, you could be tried as an adult and sent to adult prison. That's the thing with laws, you see. Fifteen years. Sixteen years. Below eighteen. These things are important.

Knowing what they did and reading what they went through was a constant battle for me to understand them and the system that makes them fail. It's always easier to judge, you see. It's always easier to put the blame on uncaring parents, a society that doesn't give a damn when it comes to the poor, a juvenile system that doesn't appear to help at all. It's a battle because when you read their works you start to get them. You see why they turned out that way or at least grasp the fact that they are trying to change but need all the help they can get. That or you see their duplicity, knowing that these kids are bright and can actually manipulate you but you forgive them, knowing what they've been through. Humes humanizes them in a way that all of us comprehend: he lets us read their poems, their prose.

But then this fifteen year old kid blew the brains off a couple of store owners because he was scolded for being late for work and bragged about his deed afterward. Or of a gangbanging kid who went to drive-bys and get a thrill out of shooting people, particularly members of another gang, to command respect.

And the cycle continues.

It was heartening to read the stories of the judges, the lawyers and the probation officers. Most of them know that the system, while basically designed to protect the youth, doesn't really work and yet they have to try to make it work. They have to try because the future of the kids are at stake. One judge scares kids into compliance and their parents hope that that tactic works. One nun gives positive recommendations for kids doing well in juvenile centers, to give kids the chance to be released early and avoid being mixed with hardcore criminals in detention. One Probation Officer finds joy in teaching a kid how to clean his fingernails, which is Sharon Stegall's story at one point:

A short time later, she watches him leave, thinking he has a shot at a decent life, though the pull of his old ways will always be strong, his old friends on the street beckoning. He is not at heart a criminal - though many of her probationers are, kids with no moral compasses, who don't understand why it is wrong to steal from an innocent stranger or shoot at someone who disses them. That is the other consequence of growing up without any caring adults in your life - you may end up learning nothing about empathy. In the end, you may be unable to experience another person's joy or sadness or grief. There is only your own need and fuck anyone who gets in the way - a perfect predator, but a lousy human being. Sociopaths are made, not born, it seems to Sharon, and in children the results are frightening - kids who not only have no concept of right and wrong, but who don't care.

Sharon's probationer with the dirty nails knows the difference, though. He just needed someone to take an interest, to expect something more than failure from him, to hold his feet to the fire. To fill the gaps. Once in a while, for Sharon, it is as simple as that.

And yet you finish reading the book wanting to know more. Or asking yourself questions such as whatever happened to the kid who had no remorse killing his employers? Whatever happened to the kid who actually changed herself and avoided the gang life? Whatever happened to the kid who was sent to adult prison? Or whatever happened to the judge who scares kids in court? Or the promised changes for the system as stated by politicians running for office? Because in fifteen years a lot has happened. I can only hope things are much better now, out there. But I'm not that hopeful.

Ideally, you see, the end game of the criminal justice system should be rehabilitation. Reading this book, in real life it felt more and more like punishment. That's a big difference and I'm sure those who have studied the different theories with respect to criminal justice system would argue for either points.

Why did I buy this book in the first place? I wanted to learn more about the juvenile courts and what better way to learn than read about it where the system's been in place for decades. You see, here in the Philippines it was only in 2006 where the comprehensive Juvenile Justice and Welfare Act was signed into law. Not that we never had one before (there was the Child and Youth Welfare Code as well as more than a handful of laws in place with the aim of protecting children). But the new law gave more rights to kids which I think is similar to the one in place in the United States. The law also abolished status offenses here but I'm not going to discuss that, though I do miss using the phrase "a fifteen year-old who acted with discretion" in my thoughts, when I conjure of ways to defend or condemn a very young criminal in my mind. But I digress.

Wherever we are in this globe we may never understand how the criminal mind works but we do know what it's like to be a kid. That stage where everything is possible, where every dream is attainable and every experience an adventure (well, I think that's not just for kids). It is up to us, adults, to nurture them without excuses. Otherwise, they might turn out like Elias, George, Shorty, Ronald, Carla, Geri and John back when Edward Humes first met them.

Books such as this aren't for everyone's taste since it's disturbing yet hopeful but I think it should be read. By everyone. Though it's filled with facts relevant in the early 90s, the beauty of the writing makes the stories, the accounts as relevant now as back then, even assuming that the system changed in the course of fifteen years.

Other interesting point of view:

Magic Cookie