Great Kantō Earthquake
A ManThe Great Kantō Earthquake of 1923 is recalled as the disaster that preceded the massacre of Koreans, and as a history whose approach to its centenary unsettles Akira Kido. Considering the earthquake’s possible recurrence alongside the violence that followed it, Kido moves from abstract historical knowledge toward a painful recognition of shared vulnerability and civic responsibility.
Historical Context and Recollection
While watching a television feature on xenophobia, Kido hears commentators discuss the massacre of Koreans. The program prompts him to think about the Great Kantō Earthquake, which had occurred in 1923; the previous year marked its ninetieth anniversary. The anniversary’s numerical milestone seems marginal, yet the prospect of the centenary only ten years away makes the past feel uncomfortably close.
Kido has consulted records of the earthquake and its aftermath. He recalls that documented prosecutions alone involved fifty-three cases of Koreans being murdered and that the Ministry of Justice at the time recorded 233 deaths. The actual toll remains uncertain: estimates vary, but the number is thought to have been several times larger, and Chinese people were also killed. The contrast between the limited count of documented cases and the much larger estimated loss makes the record itself an incomplete measure of the violence.
Disaster and Anticipated Danger
The earthquake’s history converges in Kido’s mind with predictions of future disasters. A major earthquake in the Nankai Trough and another centered in the Tokyo region are regarded as near certainties, though no one knows when they will strike. Some people describe such disasters as potentially marking Japan’s end. In Kido’s neighborhood, concerns include collapsing buildings and tsunami damage.
That danger becomes personal through an ordinary possibility: Kido might be at home on the ninth floor when a tsunami threatens, or he might be at Yamashita Park playing with Sota, where there might not be enough time to escape. The uncertainty of when disaster will arrive echoes the historical uncertainty surrounding how far the massacre extended. In both cases, public predictions or official records cannot make the threat fully knowable or contain it.
Historical Violence and Kido’s Recognition
The approaching centenary also makes Kido imagine a repetition not of the earthquake alone, but of the persecution that followed it. He fears that people taking the cry “Death to Koreans!” seriously might come after him and his family, whether as an act of mischief or as an outlet for accumulated resentment. His profession, fatherhood, love of music, and reputation as a good person would offer no dependable protection; those qualities might even intensify his persecutors’ hatred.
Kido initially tries to dismiss these thoughts as excessive. Yet the history he has read prevents easy reassurance. His awareness of the documented and estimated death toll shifts remembrance from distant information into a confrontation with the possibility of renewed danger. The earthquake matters in this scene not only as a natural disaster but as the temporal prelude to collective violence.
Significance in the Narrative
As Kido imagines the victims of the massacre, he feels as if he is confronting people who belong to him. That identification brings him closer to Zainichi sentiments of victimhood, while his Japanese citizenship places him on the side of historical responsibility for persecution. The earthquake’s remembrance therefore unsettles any simple division between personal innocence and inherited or civic implication.
The recollection also changes how Kido understands Misuzu’s participation in counter-demonstrations. He realizes that she did not join because she held an idealized view of Zainichi people; she became involved because their existence was under threat. The historical violence following the Great Kantō Earthquake thus sharpens the present-tense stakes of xenophobia for Kido, connecting disaster memory to the vulnerability of people facing hostility now.
