午夜剧场

Packed in like "objects" and forced to board and disembark in an orderly fashion on crowded trains—I believe many people living in large cities have their own ways and means of reducing that stress. I wonder how the 午夜剧场 alumni and 午夜剧场 students reading this essay feel. This book depicts the persistence and change of railway norms over a century, which were considered the "common ground"—despite containing discrepancies—among such diverse people. And that is also the history and present state of Japanese society's self-image.

Recently, while participating in a talk event for this book, someone mentioned that people standing by the doors are a nuisance. I sometimes stand there myself, so for a moment I thought, "What?" but they explained it is because many people now wear their backpacks on their front and operate their smartphones over them. Come to think of it, they certainly block the entrances and exits more than before. I wonder if this, too, will become a new norm. Railway norms are sometimes set for the convenience of railway operators, and sometimes an individual's sense of discomfort is gradually shared, formalized, and becomes established. It is likely that train manners have become so detailed through the accumulation of such fine adjustments. Some might say, "It's because we obsess over such trivialities that modern Japan is..." but I would be happy if this book serves as an opportunity to think about the present and future of normative consciousness in a globalizing Japanese society.

This book was published after a series of coincidences led to a request being made to an unknown person like myself. Those coincidences occurred on the "common foundation" of a vast number of people—remaining strangers to one another—experiencing train commuting. On the train, there are many unpleasant things, and one is often fed up with fussy manners. However, what if we think of it as a technique for coexistence that rises and falls amidst the jostling of "anonymous strangers," including myself? I cannot help but wonder if there is some meaning in the fact that this book was released under such an ordinary name—like "Eburi Man (every man)" in Hitomi Yamaguchi's novel. However, there is one proper noun I must specifically mention. That is Professor Hideo Hama, who taught in the Major in Sociology at the Faculty of Letters from 1999 to 2019. I was a student in the first year of his seminar, and I learned "doing sociology on the train" from him. As one of the truly many students he sent out into the world, I would like to dedicate this book to Professor Hama.

Daisuke Tanaka

Kobunsha Shinsho

344 pages, 1,100 yen (tax included)

*Affiliations and titles are as of the time of publication.