the pencil reads

The wonderful fool of this novel is an ungainly, horse-faced Frenchman called Gaston Boanparte who comes to Japan for the first time with a love and trust in people is as simple-minded and foolish as a child’s. The foreigner, as he is often referred to, sticks out like a sore thumb; physically, he constantly has to bend his head low to walk through tiny Japanese-sized corridors, squeeze through fences, and manoeuvre his longs legs to fit in Japanese-styled trains, sleeping and eating mats, as if his brand of large expansive love and trust just does not quite fit in shrewd and uptight Japan.

But he is determined to remain in Japan, and just as inexplicably, he changes the people around him, either aiding or thwarting the plans of those he comes into contact with. A pragmatic professional, an irresponsible care-free bachelor, a fortune teller, a prostitute and thief, a murderer, even a lame old dog — all these characters are somehow changed by coming into his wandering path.

He is dull-witted, barely grasping the nuances of what people say; he thinks himself a failure; he is ridiculously dressed; he does not command respect. In a way, he is practically the opposite of John Irving’s intelligent, dominating and opinionated Owen Meany, yet both Owen and Gaston have a spark of the divine.

The style of writing in this novel is more descriptive and rich compared with the bleak, stark writing in Silence. As in Silence, Shusaku Endo uses a lot of dialogue, but the dialogue in Wonderful Fool is wittier and more textured. It is a humorous novel and very enjoyable to read.

I am dying to compare this novel with Dostoevsky’s The Idiot, but I can’t remember The Idiot well enough, shucks. I’m going to have to read The Idiot again, but it is such a thick and difficult-to-read book!

In this postmodern day, when words signify nothing and faith is only between you and your God, can anyone understand why a person should refuse to save himself from certain torture and death, just by saying the words, “I apostatize”?

Silence, by Shusaku Endo, is based on the story of a real-life priest who goes to Japan in the midst of one of the worst persecution eras in Christian history. The history of Christianity in Japan is incredibly bitter. Can you believe this? When Francis Xavier landed in Japan in 1549, he actually called it the Asian country “most suited to Christianity,” “the delight of his heart.” Within a generation, there were 300,000 Japanese Christians!

Yet, just as quickly, the priests lost their favour with the Japanese governors. The officials grew tired of foreign intervention in domestic issues, and banned Christianity from the country, executing those who refused to apostatize. While the West has their rousing stories of “the blood the martyrs’ [being] the seed of Christianity”, in Japan, this era of torture practically killed the church. (See Philip Yancey’s review)

The Japanese Christians were hung upside down for days, beheaded, put on stakes in the ocean, thrown into the sea to sink, hung over pits of shit, made to step on the image of Jesus Christ. Today, the bronze trampled image of the Madonna and Child, known as the fumie, is displayed in the museum, and it was while entralled with this exhibit that Endo became inspired to write this book.

Silence — can you guess whose silence? Endo grapples with the silence of God in the midst of this horrific torture, and entertains thoughts that Christianity and Japanese are not suited for one another — Christianity, like a badly made suit — Japan, like a swamp that kills every young sapling, mutating it into a form where it isn’t even Christianity anymore, making all the Japanese Christians who died for their mutated unauthentic faith, a ludicrous absurdity.

Yet, the church survived, somehow. In Nagasaki, pockets of Christians known as the Kakure, or crypto-Christians, hide Christian relics in Buddhist altars and worship the God of the Christians. They use snatches of Latin in their prayers, observe the feast days, and call themselves Christians.

But you know what is ironic? When the atomic bomb fell in Nagasaki, ground zero was the largest Christian church in Japan. While Christians made up less than one percent of the entire population, Christians comprised ten percent of the victims of the bombing.

Ten percent.

Management books are so ra-ra. This is my first book on management principles I'm reading, and I have a feeling this may not be the last. This book argues that the best companies are visionary companies -- companies that have invested in their identity by setting apart a core set of values, aligned their practices according to these values, and been unrelentingly committed to progress, both by setting "big hairy audacious goals" and by changing everything that doesn't affect the core.

For example, Merck, a pharmaceutical company, is committed to the benefit of humanity through innovative contributions to medicine. It is this core ideology that influenced its decision to send streptomycin to Japan -- at no profit -- to stem an outbreak of tuberculocis after World War II. While it seems as if this goes against the agenda of a profit-orientated company, this book argues that if you remain true to the core, the profits will eventually come. For one reason or another, Merck is now the largest pharmaceutical company in Japan. Fluke or karma? Who knows. This is what the book calls "the tyranny of the `or'; the genius of the `and'".

In fact, this kind of thinking sounds like what Jesus himself said:

So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

One of the most interesting bits of this book is getting to read about the history of companies. Did you know that 3M (the post-it folks) started out as a failed mining company, and that 3M stands for "Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing"? Their commitment to innovation is seen in their 15-percent rule -- where employees can devote 15% of their time to pursuing projects of their interest. It was in this hodgepodge of experiments with weird adhesives that the first post-it notes were made, despite incredible amounts of literature explaining that "glues that don't glue" don't work.

On the other side of the world, in the period after World War II, the tag "Made in Japan" was synonymous with cheap, tacky products (perhaps like what "Made in China" is today). Sony, a small company that made small heating pads to stay afloat, wanted to change all that with high quality, high technology products. And they did. They introduced the world's first transistor radio, the first walkman, the first robotic dog, Aibo. I read in the news this weekend that they are pulling the plug on Aibo though.

So if you want to take these principles and run with them, what you need to do is:

1. Figure out what is your company's core ideology.

Only two or three at most. Core ideology has to be something that does not change no matter what, even if it affects profit.

2. Ensure company practices are aligned with core values.

That means, for example, if your company values team work, rewards and compensation should not benefit individual initiative.

3. Stimulate progress

Work hard! Try everything! Change anything and everything that doesn't go against the core ideology!

4. Don't become complacent

Never get the mentality that you have reached, even after you've become number one.

Gracious me. This post is as ra-ra as the book. I'm appalled with myself.