The Unfinished Atomic Bomb: Shadows and Reflections ed. by David Lowe et al.

Abstract

Reviewed by: The Unfinished Atomic Bomb: Shadows and Reflections ed. by David Lowe et al. Chad R. Diehl (bio) The Unfinished Atomic Bomb: Shadows and Reflections. Edited by David Lowe, Cassandra Atherton, and Alyson Miller. Lexington Books, Lanham MD, 2018. xviii, 210 pages. $100.00, cloth; $39.99, paper, $38.00, E-book. The collection of scholarly essays in The Unfinished Atomic Bomb, edited by three Australian scholars, shows that the field of atomic-bombing studies is alive and well. By "unfinished," the editors mean two things. One, despite the more than seven decades of academic scholarship that has been [End Page 464] produced about the atomic bombings and their aftermath, there is still much work left to be done. And, two, the word points to how the "experiences, memories, and aftermath, both physical and psychological, of the A-bomb are without end" (p. xvi). The editors gathered a variety of works for this volume, including essays on literature, commemoration, constitutional history, personal biography, and digital humanities. Even though some of the volume's content has appeared elsewhere, it successfully demonstrates the value of continuing to study and write about the bombings, and reminds us of the ongoing trauma for the atomic-bombing survivors (hibakusha). Among the many important chapters in the volume, a couple deserve special attention. Carolyn Stevens's chapter on article 9 of the constitution is one of the best in the book. In it, Stevens provides a compelling look at the history of Japan's current constitution, especially article 9 and its continued significance over the postwar decades and into the present. Stevens links the creation of the so-called Peace Clause to a desire to overcome the devastation of the war and to protect "the individual from the state, as the renunciation of war prevents a prime minister and the Diet from unilaterally declaring war on another nation while protecting the citizenry's right to live in peace" (p. 55). The function of "protecting" citizens from state-enacted violence is perhaps the most enduring and important legacy of article 9. Moreover, the traumatic memory of the atomic bombings, as conveyed by peace-activist groups, has kept article 9 relevant as a reminder of the importance of peace. Interestingly, Stevens posits that article 9 was not a creation of the Allied occupation personnel who wrote the constitution, but instead was originally suggested to General Douglas MacArthur by Prime Minister Shidehara Kijūrō in late 1945. Here, Stevens is in agreement with historians such as Klaus Schlichtmann, whom she cites. Overall, the chapter is engaging, reads smoothly, and is succinct enough to assign in undergraduate surveys and graduate seminars alike. Alyson Miller's chapter looks at the genre of atomic-bombing literature aimed at children, analyzing two storybooks by hibakusha-author Kodama Tatsuharu, Makkuro no obentō (The lunch box) and Shin-chan no sanrinsha (Shin's tricycle). Miller cogently argues that "through vivid and abject depictions of trauma" related to the Hiroshima bombing, the genre serves as an effective form of antinuclear activism. Miller includes a good discussion of how books authored by hibakusha reflect the nature of their trauma. These books, especially those that take the experience of children as their subjects (and often the authors' own experiences), have a "tendency towards short, fragmented narratives" and "focus on ideas about the futility of extreme violence." This makes it, as Miller puts it, "a genre invested in 'cries for sanity and peace'" (p. 69). The honesty of these texts, then, conveys antinuclear messages to their readers. Kodama's books in particular, which Miller skillfully discusses at length, have additional importance for the peace movement because they contextualize two important pieces of [End Page 465] material history, a charred lunchbox and tricycle in the main museum of Hiroshima. Miller's casual comparison of Eleanor Coerr's book Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes (Putnam, 1977) and Kodama's storybooks brings to mind an important issue that deserves addressing. Miller acknowledges that Coerr is not a hibakusha but then goes on to make analytical comparisons between the works of Coerr and Kodama simply because, in Miller's mind, their books belong to the same genre of atomic-bombing literature...