Sympathy Tower Tokyo by Rie Qudan (What would we call a tower for people who make good choices and live responsibly?)

Architect Sara Machina has designed a tower to be built in the center of Tokyo for criminals. I'm sorry, I mean victims. For in the current line of thought, morally corrupt individuals like Masaki Seto have reimagined what it means to commit crimes.

“Seto proposes the neologism “Homo Miserabilis”  - meaning “those deserving of sympathy” - to replace the conventional label of “criminal.” By contrast, Seto identifies those previously considered “non-criminals” as “Homo Felix,” in other words those who are “happy” or “fortunate” in life…These new perspectives underpin a fundamental reassessment not only of criminal actions but of societal structures at large, and are crucial in realizing a framework for greater social inclusivity and well-being.” p. 23

I am resentful of the way that personal responsibility for one’s life is so often excused today. There is always a reason, it seems, that people don’t have to be accountable for the decisions they make and the consequences which follow. But, it doesn’t seem that the Architect, Sara Machina, adheres to the “blaming others for my problems” philosophy. She is a determined person, and one who values the power of language. 

“If I used weaker materials - words like “maybe” or “could,” as fragile as sand before it met cement - how could I expect to keep myself in one piece for the several decades I had left to live? It didn’t matter that they were just words, words with no physical form of their own: If I didn’t strip them from my interior, they would render my foundations unstable.” (p. 43)

Masaki Seto persists, however, in justifying the placement of cruminals victims in the newly built luxurious tower:

“Preparations for its (the tower) construction are well underway with completion planned for 2030. I eagerly await the day when those we know now as Homo Miserabilis move out of the wretched prisons in which they have so far been housed and into the beautiful and pristine setting of this central Tokyo-tower.” (p. 50)

Who of us doesn't live in a “wretched prison” of some sort? This world is full of pain, of disappointment, of evil which must be battled every day. By every one of us. We are not victims unless we choose to be.

In other words, in the vast majority of cases, before they were “criminals” or “offenders,” these people were victims. Victims who, because they couldn’t explain their circumstances to others, have never received the care or support they needed. (p. 55) 

I think that at one time or another, in all of our lives, we need “care and support”which seems elusive. We don our courage, hopefully, and carry on.

 “…a clash of opinion can take the shine off something beautiful.” p. 80

It was relieving to me, that the more I read, the more I realized that the author, Rie Qudan, is not condoning the viewpoints of which I have taken such offense. Instead, through dialogue and the narrative of other characters, such as Takt (who works in a designer clothing shop), or Max Klein (a journalist), Qudan shows us how unproductive it would be to house a segment of society, at no cost to them. Max writes:

“…I found myself wondering if there was any difference at all between the life of a Miserabilis and that of some celebrity lounging away their afternoons in a luxury Shinjuku high rise. I guess one big difference is that, unlike celebrities, the Miserabilis aren’t allowed to leave the premises…Another difference is that celebrities have to pay astronomical rent themselves, whereas the Miserabilis have their existence funded by the taxes levied on the hard work of all the people living outside the tower…FU-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-CK!!! I shouted. “I want to live in the damn Dojo-to!” (p. 135)

There’s such a poignant irony depicted in this scene. Who doesn’t need care and compassion? Who doesn’t want to live in a beautiful, pristine, sophisticated tower in central Tokyo rent free?  It is easy to forget what Robert Heinlein write years ago in his book The Moon is a Harsh Mistress:“There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch.” 

I am mesmerized by Sympathy Tower Tokyo, which is so deserving of the Akutagawa prize for Qudan’s imaginative, and deeply thought-provoking writing. She has woven today’s philosophies, with today’s societal problems, technologies, and language, into a most insightful novel.  One which so aptly depicts a world into which we may be headed, if we aren’t living in it already.