Parallels of Protagonists: Super Size Me and My Year of Meats

            Morgan Spurlock becomes the subject of his own documentary, Super Size Me, in which he commits himself to a thirty-day McDonald’s binge after learning that two women are attempting to sue the fast-food company for their own obesity. He travels around the country, interviewing customers, workers, professors, politicians, nutritionists, doctors, and more while consuming food from the company he is indirectly criticizing.

 Similarly, Jane Takagi-Little, a documentarian like Spurlock, and one of the protagonists of Ruth Ozeki’s novel, My Year of Meats, embarks on her own quest: creating a TV show which promotes beef dishes to Japanese women. While filming the show, My American Wife!, Jane, like Spurlock, travels around America uncovering repulsive, objectionable information regarding the meat industry she promotes. Both actively participate in industries which in-part ensure their livelihood, yet these same industries become ultimately dangerous and harmful to their well-being.

Spurlock’s nutritionists and doctors, after only eighteen days of the experiment, advise him to stop his McDonald’s binge: “Stop doing what you are doing. It’s hurting you.” One doctor warns of “gout, kidney stones, a pickled liver” while another instructs him to call 911 if he begins vomiting or suffers from cloudy vision. The bright, fast-paced documentary takes a serious turn when Spurlock speaks to his mother who admits, “I’m scared […] there will be some irreversible damage done.”

Likewise, Jane learns of the dangers of the meat she is promoting, yet continues to press for more details and film footage. She visits a slaughterhouse and watches as workers in “identical blood-drenched coats […] used power tools to perform various operations on the hanging carcasses – looping off hooves, decapitating” (282). In the slaughterhouse, she is accidentally knocked unconscious, sprawled “into the path of a thousand pounds of oncoming carcass” (284). Though hospitalized, and fired from her job soon after, the journey proves to reveal greater truths, like Spurlock’s journey.

These greater truths about the meat industry, advertising, and American culture are greatly enhanced by the film Fast Food Nation, which includes a graphic, yet vivid slaughterhouse scene. The DVD version of the film also contains a special feature mini-film, Backwards Burger, which may be viewed at backwardsburger.com. The mini-film displays, step-by-step, where a fast food burger likely comes from and what it likely contains: “A typical burger may contain pieces of 1,000 different cows and a little serving of their manure.”

            A trio of diverse media, Super Size Me, Fast Food Nation, and My Year of Meats, work to expose thought-provoking, sometimes shocking, elements in our nation’s food culture. From child-orientated advertising to lobbying politicians, chemically enhanced products to growing portion sizes, these works combined have the power to make a McDonalds’ hamburger seem unappealing.

 

Be careful who you trust

                One aspect of Ozeki’s novel that I found particularly interesting was its treatment of the theme of misplaced trust. It is shown in multiple places and between multiple people and institutions in the novel.  For example, Beef-Ex and the entire production crew of My American Wife! initially place their trust in Jane to fulfill their requests and deliver shows full of “perfect American families” and lots of red meat, only to be disappointed when she shows the real America: colorful, diverse, and not always carnivorous.

                My American Wife! also led to disappointment for many of the wives and their families. There was an implied trust between the wives and their families and Jane and her crew that was betrayed in more than one instance. Lara and Dyann were disappointed by Jane’s failure to mention the show’s sponsor; Helen Dawes and her family eventually allowed Jane and Joichi into their church and home only to be disappointed by the ultimate decision to use another family for the show.

                Marriage is an institution in which trust is assumed to play a large part. However, it is a very misplaced trust in the case of Akiko and Joichi. Akiko cannot trust her husband emotionally or physically. Joichi abuses her in both aspects, and ignores the vow that marriage includes.  Also playing a role in Joichi’s betrayal is his affinity for various substances and strippers in Texas.  

                Perhaps the most important instances of misplaced trust are those that, unbeknownst to the general public, result in endangerment of health. These are the aspects of Ozeki’s novel that influenced me the most. What startled me the most was the realization that I put in institutions that I do not necessarily know anything about. For example, most people trust their doctors unquestioningly, but in the case of Jane’s mother, it resulted in catastrophe for Jane.

                I grew up eating meat from my grandparents and aunts and uncles, so the idea of unsafe hormones and conditions for livestock were things that never crossed my mind. Of course I had read stories and heard tell of unsafe practices, but it was not until I read Ozeki’s novel that I ever thought of these things in relation to myself and how these things could affect me now that I buy my own food. My Year of Meats got me thinking about the trust I place in institutions I know nothing about.

                I recently read an article on CNN about a slaughterhouse in California that was caught abusing the already sick and weak cows it was sending through the lines. This practice raises concerns because it increases the risk of contamination of the beef that is later sent out for public consumption. After reading that article and Ozeki’s book, I have found myself refusing red meat when I have had the option for it. I respect Ozeki’s novel for bringing attention to an aspect of the food industry that is not discussed as often as it should be. While I know that the use of dangerous hormones and contamination of meat is not the norm, I am much more cautious now.

–Heather Mead

My Year of Meats Movies Series Begins Monday, Feb. 18

WSU’s 2007-08 Common Book Selection raises questions about food consumption and production as well as Japanese-American relations and cultural conflicts.  These films—including Ruth Ozeki’s feature Halving the Bones— provide a healthy diet for the minds of readers of My Year of Meats.  All films are shown free of charge and will be followed by a brief discussion. 

Monday,  February 18

Super Size Me

8 pm, Minné 104

Why are Americans so fat? Two words: fast food. What would happen if you ate nothing but fast food for an entire month? Filmmaker Morgan Spurlock does just that and embarks on the most perilous journey of his life. The rules? For 30 days he can’t eat or drink anything that isn’t on McDonald’s menu; he must wolf three squares a day; he must consume everything on the menu at least once and supersize his meal if asked. Introduced by Sally Slattery.

Wednesday,  February 20

Time of Fear

8 pm, Minné 104 

In World War II, more than 110,000 Japanese-Americans were forced into relocation camps across the US. This film traces the lives of the 16,000 people who were sent to two camps in southeast Arkansas, one of the most racially segregated places in America at that time. Through interviews with the internees and local citizens, the film explores how the influx of outsiders overwhelmed and exposed racial tensions within the southern communities. Introduced by James Hunter.

Monday, February 25

Sumo East & West

8 pm, Minné 104

American competitors are rapidly changing the ancient Japanese sport of sumo. Is this a form of cultural appropriation, or merely a form of cultural appreciation?  Four years in the making, Sumo East and West offers a rare opportunity to go inside the cloistered and highly secretive world of sumo, where the historical clash between East and West plays out in the story of the Western outsiders who have entered this quintessentially Japanese institution. Introduced by Heather Mead.

Wednesday, February 27

Halving the Bones: a film by Ruth Ozeki

3-5 pm, Kryzsko Student Activities Center

Ruth, a half-Japanese filmmaker living in New York, has inherited a can of bones that she keeps on a shelf in her closet. The bones are half of the remains of her dead Japanese grandmother, which she is supposed to deliver to her estranged mother. A narrative and visual web of family stories, home movies and documentary footage, Halving the Bones explores the meaning of family, history, and memory. Introduced by Jennie Case.    This screening will be followed by an interview with Ruth Ozeki.

 

Food and Culture in My Year of Meats

Ruth Ozeki’s My Year of Meats provides a thought-provoking depiction of the relationship between food and culture.  Although the novel ends with an almost organic/vegetarian spin, it does not necessarily have an anti-meat agenda.  In fact, last semester Ruth Ozeki admitted to WSU students that she is not a vegetarian; she just makes sure she knows where the meat she eats is coming from.  Nonetheless, the book has impacted the eating habits of multiple WSU students.  I know at least two students who decided to become vegetarians in part after reading the book, and even I have begun rethinking my dietary choices.  Over the semester break, I purchased two vegetarian cookbooks and have since been enjoying dishes such as “Tortellini with Sweet Potato Sauce,” “Mushroom, Spinach, and Cheddar Wraps,” and “Spiced Vegetables over Cinnamon Couscous.”  (All of which I highly recommend).

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The discussion surrounding the novel has made me consider the unique ways that food defines culture.  We remember the “American Wives” in the novel by both their personalities and the food that they eat.  The Coca-Cola Rump is as intricately tied to Susie Flowers as the Cajun-style Baby Back Ribs are to the Beaudroux Family.  Readers can start developing a picture of the families just on the recipe Ozeki provides.  The same is true for us.  In the past month, I have had brunch twice with two separate friends and their extended families.  With the first friend, I ate sausage cooked with grilled onion and apple, French toast bread pudding, scrambled eggs, and a fruit salad made with pears, chicory, avocado, and grapes.  The second friend’s family served biscuits and gravy, sausage, and bacon.  I have the feeling, when imagining these families, it isn’t too difficult to come up with two distinct portraits.

 

Reading Ruth Ozeki’s My Year of Meats has also made me consider the way my own family’s diet defines and reflects my background.   My father is a vegetarian, my mother is not.  As a result, I grew-up in a house that ate stir-fry or pasta much more often than anything else.  My dad created a “pasta dance” that he insisted on performing anytime time he or my mom started boiling water, and at holiday gatherings we tended to serve lasagna as well as ham.  I like to think my culinary background has made me more adventurous when it comes to food and culture, although perhaps, like with Akiko, it merely resulted in a particular fondness for grains and vegetables.

           

 I would like to end this entry with a recipe that might reveal a little more about my family.  Let me know if you liked it, or if you have a separate recipe that you would like to share with the readers of this blog.  Even if you don’t respond, think about it: how does food characterize the various subcultures within the novel, and how does food characterize your own particular subculture?

Cheeseburger Pie

Ingredients:

1 lb. Hamburger/Hamburger substitute.  My dad enjoys veggie crumble, but you could also try tempeh.

1 package refrigerated pie crusts (unless you enjoy making pastry from scratch)

2 tbsp dry mustard

1 onion

1 cup shredded cheese

½ tsp. dill weed

1 egg white

Parmesan cheese

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 425°. Unfold the pastry from 1 package refrigerated 9 inch pie crusts.

2. Place one crust on a greased cookie sheet. Spread 2 tablespoons dry mustard to within ½ inch of edge. Brown ½ pound hamburger (or use veggie crumble) and spread over mustard. Top meat with 1 thinly sliced onion, 1 cup shredded cheese, and ¼ tsp. dill weed. Top with remaining crust and seal edges.  If desired, add tomatoes, black olives, or green peppers to the pie along with the onion and cheese.

3. Brush top of crust with 1 beaten egg white or milk. Sprinkle with Parmesan Cheese and ¼ tsp. dill weed. Bake in oven for 20 minutes or until crust has browned. Cut into wedges and serve.

My Year of Meats Sizzles

When I first heard of My Year of Meats, I was honestly skeptical about the whole idea. How could an author accomplish the task of a novel that would captivate readers as well as expose the truths of the meat industry? It naturally came as a shock when I began reading and couldn’t stop. Like a meat hook plunged into a freshly killed cow, so too was I hooked into reading this tale of love, loss, and death.

One of Ozeki’s lures into the novel is her crafting of characters. Right from the start, you as a reader will likely love the sections with Jane in it. Jane’s character is a very intriguing one, having to choose between her company’s desired work and her personal motivations. What makes this story more enjoyable is the realism of each supporting character. A number of times I found myself actually believing the novel had happened in the real world.

Ozeki kept me reading until the last page. The end result? I find myself still eating meat, but a lot less of it. From Ozeki’s knowledge of hormonal chemicals added to beef, I learned valuable information about the meat industry. My Year in Meats, was, in short, fantastic. I’m grateful that I had the chance to read it, even if the end result kept me wanting more “Meats.”

-James Hunter

Sexual Abuse in My Year of Meats

Ruth Ozeki’s novel, My Year of Meats, integrates a number of important issues, relevant to today’s society: cultural communication, eating disorders, domestic abuse, and, primarily, the corrupt and unsanitary meat industry. Many discussions and criticisms of the text revolve around Ozeki’s portrayal of the meat industry; however, personally, the element of sexual abuse contained within the novel troubled me in a way that made it difficult to focus on the elements regarding the meat industry.

            Jane, an independent and strong American, and Akiko, a Japanese woman described as “so thin her bones hurt” (20), are both sexually assaulted by Akiko’s husband, Ueno. Jane is attacked by Ueno after a night of drinking, while Akiko’s endurance of domestic abuse escalates until finally she is raped by her husband. Neither woman reports the abuse, a very troubling detail that frustrated me upon first reading. After reflection, however, I believe Ozeki uses these situations to make a poignant statement about the ‘acceptable’ treatment and expectations of women in American and Japanese culture.  

Perhaps Ueno assumes Jane will engage in sexual activity because she is American: “he loved big breasted woman” (42). Ueno is intrigued by American culture, preferring he be called ‘John Wayne’ rather than Ueno. He tells Jane that she is a “good and strong and modern girl from cross breeding,” (43) unlike his wife who “is no good” (44).

            Regarding Japanese culture, Ueno’s abuse towards Akiko, not uncommon in America as well as Japan, is violent and unrelenting. Physical abuse begins when Ueno discovers from Akiko’s doctor that she is “perfectly capable of controlling” (99) her menstrual cycles. Akiko is repressed, made silent and obedient: qualities that may be linked to Japan’s cultural value in women. According to Catherine Burns, a Japanese “woman’s reproductive capacity, sexuality, and virginity are conceptualized as valuable commodities that belong to her father, husband or sovereign” (68). Unarguable, this accepted belief, as well as Japan’s cultural value in producing male children, affects how Ueno views and treats women.

            I find Ozeki’s inclusion of sexual abuse to be very relevant and necessary. The graphic and intense scenes drive the plot, reveal the characters’ dynamic personalities, while commenting on important cultural issues.

 

Burns, Catherine. Sexual Violence and the Law in Japan. London: Routledge Curzon, 2005.

Political and Personal

If Ruth Ozeki is an engaging author in print, she is even more so in person.  Her ability to connect to her audience was wonderful and I found myself drawn in by her genuine and energetic responses.  At the panel discussion “What We Eat and Why It Matters”, she shared her reasons for centering her novel on a food item. She stated that “we are what we eat” and also explained that she wrote about food because of its essential and very personal position in our lives.  She spoke about how something as small as a coffee bean could have an infinite amount of stories involved in it. The starting point for many of her writings, she mentioned, was to take an everyday object and start asking questions about it, such as “where did this come from?” and “who was involved?” By doing this, she explained how something seemingly insignificant could unfold into an incredible story. 

Ozeki’s ability to apply small, even mundane, things such as ordering a hamburger to a much broader picture has caused me to think more critically about the small decisions that I make every day.  During the panel discussion, Ozeki spoke about the idea that the political and the personal can never be separated. She connected this to the novel, in which something as political as a certain chemical or antibiotic being used in cows can affect something as personal as a woman’s ability to reproduce.  This idea intrigued me, that even the seemingly least “important” decisions that people make can have such large repercussions and also that being uneducated about politics and social issues can have such a profound effect on an aspect of a person’s life that they considered isolated.

The connection of the political to the personal is especially fitting for America, where some people do not exercise their right to vote much less stay knowledgeable of current political issues.  I think many people are unaware of just how much the political sphere affects their personal life – I know that I have been – and choose to believe that they can live their personal life unaffected by the decisions made by the government. However, through the characters of My Year of Meats, Ozeki has portrayed just how invasive the political sphere can be into the personal. 

Sumo and Japanese Culture

            From an uneducated perspective, Sumo wrestling may just seem like two fat, barely dressed, guys wrestling. However, nothing could be further from the truth. The documentary “Sumo East and West” took a look at the world of professional Sumo in Japan as well as looking at amateur Sumo wrestling circuit that is spreading to many other countries. The documentary relates to Ozeki’s novel as it raises questions about the mixing of cultures between East and West.

A statement was made at the beginning of the documentary that Sumo wrestling “represents everything that is good in traditional Japanese culture.” Sumo wrestling is tied closely to the Shinto religion through the certain materials that the dohyo (wrestling ring) are made out of and the blessing ceremony over the dohyo that occurs before a professional Sumo tournament.  Similarly, a professional Sumo wrestler in Japan is considered a “demi-God” by the Japanese public. These professional Sumo wrestlers appear in public in a kimono or a silk robe, wear their hair in top-knots and live at the Sumo stable. A Japanese interviewee in the documentary stated that a professional Sumo wrestler in Japan would look just like a Samurai without a sword in public. The world of professional Sumo is steeped in tradition and culture, and the world of the wrestlers themselves revolves around their sport. 

           In the past few decades, several heavy American wrestlers from Hawaii have joined professional Sumo in Japan, leaving America to immerse themselves in the Sumo lifestyle in Japan.  One of these wrestlers, Akebono, became the second only non-Japanese Yokozuna (Grand Champion, the highest award that exists in Sumo.) 

The documentary contrasts the strict and highly closed world of professional Sumo wrestling to the less restrictive, emergent amateur Sumo wrestling.  Amateur Sumo has been continually changing over the past few years in hopes of becoming an Olympic sport. To become an Olympic sport, however, the International Olympic Committee deemed that Sumo must be open to more people. Thus, spandex shorts were allowed for those who were unable to wear only the wamashi for religious purposes. A crew cut instead of a top-knot is worn by the individuals.  Also, the wrestling takes place on wrestling mats instead of the special dohyo that is important to the Shinto religion. However, the most significant change that has been made is the allowance of women to wrestle. In professional Sumo in Japan, it is believed that if a woman even touches the dohyo the ring will be impure and the wrestlers will be injured.

   The question then becomes whether amateur Sumo has stripped Sumo wrestling of all of its cultural ties to Japan and is becoming just another sport with no special qualities.  In response to the lax rules and requirements of amateur Sumo, the professional Sumo federation in Japan has been raising their standards and now requires professional Sumo wrestlers to be able to speak Japanese, thus further closing their doors on an already greatly closed sport. Ozeki paints cultural mixing and the modern-day multicultural world in a very positive light in My Year of Meats; the question that comes to my mind is if traditional Japanese Sumo wrestling can survive as they continually close their doors to outsiders or if it will slowly die out in favor of the more accessible amateur version.

It is through “journaling that your mind learns to trust you.” -Ruth Ozeki

Perhaps the most intriguing and inspiring aspect about Ruth Ozeki is not her ability to write, nor her success as a documentarian.  Instead, Ozeki’s ability to connect with students and faculty through conversation and literature was both genuine and inspiring.  Her personable demeanor and true desire for readers to connect with the text and its ideas in a way unique to themselves was refreshing and encouraging.  This was evident from her desire for questions and her honest, witty responses such as when she was asked her opinion of Wal-Mart and said, “Wal-Mart affects the aesthetic integrity.”

Whether it was listening to her answer questions in a more intimate setting at dinner or in the large Somsen Auditorium, she managed to close the gap between author and student or author and faculty and allowed us to absorb the woman whose life is integrated into My Year of Meats.  For example, at dinner she was asked if she had any unique writing rituals.  She talked of copious amounts of green tea and thinking hard about a question or idea before bed only to wake up to an answer, but the idea that struck me the most was her journaling.  She said keeping a journal wherever you go is vital to being a writer and that it is through “journaling that your mind learns to trust you.”  As an avid journal writer and a hopeful future author, I pondered this quote for a good day and had a difficult time explicating her thought.  I think what Ozeki means, and if I’m wrong I’m sure she would appreciate my own interpretation, is that journaling allows one’s rational mind to trust one’s imaginative yet authentic heart.  Writing is a form of the heart and sometimes our minds cannot wrap around specific ideas it reveals or they demand we turn around from a direction in which we feel a character should go.  In order to be a successful writer, one’s relationship between heart and mind needs to be a balance of rationality and creativity or what’s most genuine in our selves.

Ozeki said that when authors write characters, all characters are autobiographical in a sense.  She explained how Jane was her hero and had similar struggles and characteristics that Ozeki had or desired.  Aspects of an author’s heart make the characters autobiographical and help the readers to empathize with them, yet the mind’s power allows readers to understand and interpret them.  In her book, Ozeki challenges her readers to relate to her characters in both ways, therefore, reflecting what it means to have true balance and trust between her heart and her mind as an author.

Callie Runestad

Autobiography and My Year of Meats

As an amateur writer still exploring the boundaries that divide fiction and nonfiction, I appreciate the focus that Ruth Ozeki’s readings and speeches took.  When students asked Ozeki how autobiographical Jane was, she responded by saying that all of her characters are autobiographical to some degree, for she draws from herself to create them all—even John Ueno.  She based “My American Wife” off of “Mrs. America,” a show she actually produced when working in the television industry.  “Mrs. America” had a feminist agenda and a more serious tone, but it too was sponsored by the U.S. meat industry.  As a producer, Ozeki said, she did not have time them to consider the implications of the meat industry’s sponsorship; fiction has allowed her to “stop and consider” what she, as a documentarian, had been doing. 

 

This view of fiction intrigues me.  I have always assumed that seasoned writers rely less on their own realities as inspiration for their work than novices such as myself.  Since much of my inspiration comes from people I have known and situations I have observed, I question my ability to come up with similar creative solutions.  Ozeki, however, embraces the autobiographical nature of her work and is not afraid to demystify the source of her inspiration.  Her documentaries contain fiction; her fiction contains fact.  Although Ozeki considers Jane a unique individual (during Tuesday evening’s reading, Ozeki used a higher-pitched voice to read Jane’s lines), she also understands fiction’s nature as a medium—a way to tell a story, to share “the truth” that she knows.  Fiction does not have to be a magical substance separate and distinct from reality.  Like nonfiction prose, fiction can allow its writers to explore issues important to their understandings of society.

           

 So often, I classify work as fiction or as nonfiction and lose track of the multiplicity of genres that could fall between those two terms.  I forget that, as Ozeki said, “writing a book is only the smallest part of the phenomenon that makes literature.”  Perhaps I should learn, as a writer, to worry less about a story’s classification and focus more on the writing process and its results.