The best books about Japan’s countryside

This is one of the first books on Japan that I read when I moved to the country in 1997, and it still resonates with me. While still a college student, Alex Kerr buys a rundown farmhouse in the Iya Valley of Shikoku, re-thatches it, and maintains the traditional Japanese architecture of pre-WWII Japanese wooden houses.

Kerr went on to write many more books on Japan, most of which have become classics. He is the foundation of the akiya movement, lectures widely around the archipelago, and is responsible for revitalizing country villages around Japan.

I wish I had read this memoir long before I moved to Japan. Otowa married her U.S. college sweetheart and found herself transported to a small town near Kyoto, where she plopped down into the traditional hamlet her husband’s ancestors founded. In the town of Otowa, she becomes the matron of the heritage home of 350 years.

She writes beautifully about traditional Japanese life, folk traditions, and seasonal rituals, all of which bound her to her home, which she considers a living, breathing entity. A beautiful tribute to a house. 

Saga was a country doctor who, after work hours, interviewed his patients about their lives. While this book was published way back in 1974, the stories he uncovers helped me understand the foundations of Japanese country folk today.

From life on the Tone River, where fishing families lived on their vessels, to farming families, where infanticide was accepted due to lack of birth control methods, Dr. Saga’s interviews are ripe with detail and confessions of the good times and the bad of his compatriots in Showa era Japan, before and after WWII.

Miyamoto is a famous ethnologist who walked the length of Japan, padding through its far-flung hamlets, to compile books about provincial livelihoods in the 1930s. The result is a look into the hard lives of rice farmers and their wives.

Miyamoto’s interviews revealed many of the cultural quirks, such as the promiscuous ways of certain country women and their equally unrestrained suitors—often traders passing through town. The characters Miyamoto interviews offer fascinating, frank, and impactful voices, especially from women who would not have otherwise been heard.

This is a diverse collection of stories told by ex-pats living in “inaka," the Japanese word for the countryside. An array of ex-pat authors describe their experiences: Some came to Japan as English teachers, journalists, or spouses, one cycled through Japan, another walked in the footsteps of haiku poet Basho, and another became a Buddhist priest.

The collection starts in Okinawa and moves up the archipelago to Hokkaido. For me, it’s the most diverse collection of voices on the topic of countryside living.