The Luminous Fairies and Mothra by Shin'ichirō Nakamura, Takehiko Fukunaga, Yoshie Hotta, & Jeffrey Angles (Translator)

Blurb:

Mystical and benevolent, the colossal lepidopteran Mothra has been one of the most beloved kaiju since 1961, when The Luminous Fairies and Mothra was originally published in Japanese. Commissioned by Tōhō Studios from three of Japan’s most prominent postwar literary writers (Shin’ichirō Nakamura, Takehiko Fukunaga, and Yoshie Hotta), the novella formed the basis for the now-classic monster film Mothra, with a protagonist second only to Godzilla in number of film appearances by a kaiju. Finally available in its first official English translation, The Luminous Fairies and Mothra will captivate ardent, longtime fans of the films as well as newcomers.

Written just months after the largest political demonstrations Japan had ever seen, The Luminous Fairies and Mothra reflects the rebellious spirit of the time. In this original story, explorers visit a South Pacific island and capture a group of fairies, inciting the fury of the goddess Mothra, who sets out for Japan on a mission of rescue and revenge. Expressing a powerful social stance about Japan’s need to chart its own foreign policy during the Cold War, the novella’s political message was ultimately toned down in the Tōhō Studios film. Through this translation, Anglophone audiences will discover Mothra as a figure of protest fiction intricately reflecting the complex geopolitical situation in early 1960s Japan.

The Luminous Fairies and Mothra is translated into lively prose by Jeffrey Angles, who also wrote an extensive afterword about the novella’s cultural context, the unusual story of its composition, and the development of the 1961 film. Following Angles’s best-selling translation of the original Godzilla novellas, this new work will once again delight kaiju fans everywhere.

Review:

I wouldn’t consider myself a die-hard kaiju fan, but I do love watching giant monsters fighting it out on the big screen. Seeing that this was the first ever appearance of Mothra, I thought it’d be a pretty cool classic novella to read. To my surprise, the book even came with a very comprehensive ‘Translator’s Note’, which reads like an academic essay explaining the context behind writing this novella. 

So, without further ado, let’s dive in!

Spoilers Ahead! 

What I liked: 

I love Japanese cinema. From Kurosawa to Kitano, to Miike and Kore-eda, to even those low budget gore-fests and iconic kaiju films, I’ve watched a bit from everything Japan has to offer. While I’m not the biggest kaiju fan out there, I have enjoyed the Japanese Godzilla films way more than I did their American counterparts. So, I was intrigued to find out that Mothra—one of the most iconic kaijus ever—made her debut to the world not on the screen, but in the form of a novella! What’s more, it isn’t just one, but three authors who wrote the novella in a round-robin relay format, each building off what came before. 

I want to start my praise by commending Jeffrey Angles’ translation. Despite there being three authors, the translation makes the transition seamless between the three voices. Of course, the narrative treatment changes within each section, but the voice feels very much consistent. 

Part 1 of the novella is written by Shin'ichirō Nakamura, following Chujo, a linguist who visits Infant Island. Believed to be infected by lethal levels of radiation, Chujo’s exploration of the island brings humanity in touch with the ‘luminious fairies’ or ‘shobijin’ (beautiful little women). This imagination of this strange island with its predatory plants and its mystical fairy-tale inhabitants was charming enough to make this an almost cozy read. However, as expected of the classic, the story quickly takes a darker turn. Nakamura’s section explores the discovery and subsequent reaction of humanity to the existence of this fantasy world. 

Part 2 by Takehiko Fukunaga switches to Fukuda, a journalist who also ventures into Infant Island after the Japanese and Rosilicans (stand in for America) publish their discovery of Infant Island. There, Fukuda learns of the indigenous peoples’ creation myths, including the egg that is prophesized to hatch and become Mothra. Despite the change in tone and treatment, the story moves forward slowly and intriguingly. From the clinical observations of linguist Chujo, to now the humanitarian empathetic perspective of journalist Fukuda, the story continues to mesmerize you. 

Yoshie Hotta’s section is the most cinematic (also most disappointing, but there is context to it that I will explain later). This is where we actually see Mothra in all her kaiju glory. The story shifts to an omniscient POV, presenting the finale through a grand macroscopic lens.  

If you’re a fan of kaiju films, the novella is bound to charm you. If you’re curious about the kaiju genre, this is certainly a nice, quick read that’ll present to you a very early version of one of the genre’s most iconic kaijus. Even if you just love sci-fi or fantasy, you’re in for a lighthearted entertaining read. I really enjoyed this one, although I do have a few complaints with it. 

What I didn’t like: 

Without context, I hated the climax. It felt very hastily resolved. But, after reading the Translator’s note, I realized that it was by design. After all, Toho had commissioned the novella with the intention of using it as a template for the film’s story. Plus, they had always intended to change the action portions to make the best use of their special effects. With that in mind, it’s no wonder that Yoshie Hotta, the author of the third and last part of the novella, didn’t bother to flesh out the climax. However, given how well the first two parts were constructed, you can’t help but feel disappointed at the treatment of the finale on paper. 

Other than that, the novella is a product of its time, so any era-appropriate problems are bound to exist. There were parts of the story that felt a little too surface level. The characters don’t feel too deep and multilayered, which could be owing to the fact that the book was written with a very clear purpose. All this didn’t hamper my enjoyment of the book much, but these were noticeable issues. 

Also, the Translator’s Note reads like a real academic essay. While everything that Jeffrey Angles brings up in there is super interesting and enlightening, it can get a little too much to digest. If you love reading about history and politics, you might enjoy this portion. However, if you’re here just for the kaiju story, I’d skip the Note. It’s very dense and gets overwhelming at times. Especially with the names, dates, different political and cultural movements, etc. 

In Conclusion:

A beautiful first look at one of Japan’s most iconic kaijus, as well as a pretty in-depth note setting political, and socio-cultural context of its creation. 

TL;DR: 

What I liked: Story, mythology, and the context built in the ‘Translator’s Note’

What I didn’t like: Era-appropriate issues, the fact that the ‘Translator’s Note’ is almost twice as long as the novella itself.