Japan's Empire of Birds: Aristocrats, Anglo-Americans, and Transwar Ornithology by Annika A. Culver

Abstract

Reviewed by: Japan's Empire of Birds: Aristocrats, Anglo-Americans, and Transwar Ornithology by Annika A. Culver Miriam Kingsberg Kadia Japan's Empire of Birds: Aristocrats, Anglo-Americans, and Transwar Ornithology. By Annika A. Culver. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2022. 328 pages. ISBN: 9781350184930 (hardcover; also available as e-book). On the surface, few activities seem as apolitical as birdwatching. In 2020, however, the pastime became a national flashpoint when a white woman, Amy Cooper, spuriously accused Christian Cooper (no relation), an African American birdwatcher in New York City's Central Park, of harassment. As feathers flew in the wake of the incident, journalists did not fail to remark upon the long-standing absence (some argued, exclusion) of people of color from the hobby. Did Christian Cooper's participation reflect changes in the traditionally white-dominated, elite ranks of avian enthusiasts? In her latest monograph, historian of East Asia Annika A. Culver unveils the complicated racial and class politics behind the human study of birds through the case of Japan. Japan's Empire of Birds: Aristocrats, Anglo-Americans, and Transwar Ornithology joins a burgeoning body of literature tracing, as its title suggests, both continuity and change across the chronological watershed of Japan's defeat in World War II. The book proceeds forward in time, beginning with the origins of Japanese ornithology (the scientific study of avian species) following the Meiji Restoration of 1868. Early investigations of birds melded enduring Japanese enjoyment and interrogation of avian life with the importation of zoological knowledge and research methods from the West, particularly Great Britain and the United States. Japanese [End Page 352] ornithology initially developed primarily in the hands of "gentleman-scientists," typically men of great wealth with ties to the imperial house and former shogunate. At home, these scholars hunted and collected specimens on their vast estates; abroad, they rubbed shoulders with members of their class at elite institutions such as Harvard and Cambridge, raising Japan's international profile and transforming Euro-American scientific networks into truly transnational circuits. Museums emerged to display not only bird skins and taxidermies, but also the symbolic power of their collectors over the human and natural worlds. Culver draws a provocative comparison between early Japanese ornithologists and "otaku"—predominantly male, contemporary Japanese youths who exhibit a single-minded commitment to their subject of choice: video games, Pokémon, media, trains, and so on. Then (as now), men drew together in homosocial enjoyment of "masculine" pastimes that largely excluded women or relegated them to supporting roles such as typists, research assistants, and caretakers. While Nakanishi Gotō (1895–1984) supervised meetings of the Yachō no Kai (Wild Bird Society), his wife cleaned up after his pet owls. Within the miniscule world of prewar ornithology, Marquess Hachisuka Masauji (1903–1953) loomed large. A "main character" of sorts for the book, he exemplifies the imbrication of avian science, masculinity, and political and social transformation. After fatefully disappointing his illustrious father by breaking his engagement to a Japanese princess for reasons that remain intriguingly vague, Hachisuka departed for a period of study at Cambridge. His experiences at the university, Culver argues, reveal the limits of prewar racial tolerance and the predicament of "honorary whiteness" within the Anglo-American scientific world. During his time in Europe, Hachisuka came to know French aristocrat Jean Théodore Delacour (1890–1985), a noted ornithologist and president of the Ligue pour la protection des oiseaux (League for the Protection of Birds). Some evidence suggests that the pair's shared passion for avian species may have awakened amours of another kind: throughout his life, Hachisuka's most emotionally satisfying relationships appear to have been with men. In any case, Culver concludes, "in terms of contemporary Japanese society's expectations for men [Hachisuka and his peers] could be considered 'queer' to the degree by which birds defined their lives" (p. 63). In the 1930s, Hachisuka built his scholarly reputation on the strength of a five-volume study, published under the title Contributions to Birds of the Philippines, that was based on research conducted during a 1929 expedition to the American colony. While in the field, he formed connections with US ornithologists that were to prove useful during the postwar...