As readers, we understand the importance of the protagonist to have a sense of identity and distinguishment from other entities present in literature. We expect the main character to set themselves apart from the text and tell a story from their perspective. But what happens when no solid identification can be made about them? What can we deduce about a narrator that only has as much of an identity as they say they do or choose to have? Such is the case in John Okada’s No-No Boy, the 1957 novel revealing the tale of 25-year-old Ichiro Yamada, a second-generation Japanese-American soldier returning to the US after spending time in both internment camps and prison for refusal to be drafted into World War II. Torn between his American upbringing and his parents’ constant implementation of pro-Japan sentiments, Ichiro faces discrimination and isolation from both within and outside of the Japanese community. Consequently, he has trouble identifying with a specific culture, or deciding whether he will be more Japanese or American.
Throughout No-No Boy, Okada successfully whisks together hypophora and emotive language to take his audience through and around young Ichiro’s mind, who struggles to find as much of a name for himself as we do for his character. On Page 42, Ichiro thoroughly interrogates his mother as to why he was not informed of the death of another Japanese soldier, with his mother faithfully believing that “The Germans did not kill Kumasaka-san’s boy… It was not the boy but the mother who is also the son and it is she who is to blame and it is she who is dead … because she did not conduct herself as a Japanese and, no longer being Japanese, she is dead.” (Okada, 41) Upon recognition of his mother’s nationalistic mindset, Ichiro retaliates in asking her: “‘That makes everything all right, does it? That makes it all right that Bob is dead, that war was fought and hundreds of thousands killed and maimed, and that I was two years in prison and am still Japanese?’”, to which his mother replies: “‘Yes’”. (Okada, 42) A prime example of the aforementioned hypophora lies when Ichiro poses the question as to whether or not he, having been arrested for refusing to fight in the war at hand, is any more Japanese than the soldier of the same descent who fought and died for his homeland. Mrs. Yamada’s strong holdout for Japan suggests that she wants her son to possess the same Japanese identity she does.
Despite this, Ichiro chooses not to defend Japan in WWII — earning him the title of “No-No Boy” and leading others to regard him with much less respect. Okada incorporates hypophora seamlessly within this section of the text to clearly exhibit Ichiro’s anger at pre-existing, more conservative, mindsets. He feels as though his mother’s loyalism to Japan is barring him from his newly found American identity. This idea is reiterated in Wenxin Li’s article, “An Untenable Dichotomy: The Idea of Home in John Okada’s No-No Boy”, where he mentions that “given the long history of Asian American exclusion in America and the unrelenting perception of Asian Americans as “unassimilable aliens” (Kim 9), it is only logical that in Asian American literature, the theme of establishing a home base in America has been more amplified and persistent”. (Li, 81) Ichiro serves as an embodiment of Li’s description, playing the role of an outcast in American society and finding difficulty in choosing his nationality.
Emotive language is also prevalent throughout the text, evoking sympathy from readers for Ichiro as he struggles to find his place in a country where he faces rejection from both his own kind and outsiders. Pages 81-82 of No-No Boy evidently portray Ichiro’s confusion in searching for his true identity in a discussion with his friend Kenji as they leave a bar where Ichiro was beaten by a group of demeaning youths. As they drive to nearby lodging, Ichiro thinks to himself: “I have made a mistake and I know it with all the anguish in my soul. I have suffered for it and will suffer still more. Is it not just then that, for my suffering and repentance, I be given another chance? One steals and goes to prison and comes out a free man with his debt paid… he can find acceptance among those of his kind. I, too, have made a mistake and I, too, have served time, two years all told, and I have been granted a full pardon. Why is it then that I am unable to convince myself that I am no different from any other American? Why is it that, in my freedom, I feel more imprisoned in the wrongness of myself and the thing I did than when I was in prison?
Am I really never to know again what it is to be American?” (Okada, 81-82) Ichiro also mentions his brother Taro, who insists on joining the army to fight in WWII. To Taro, Ichiro notes: “I am not to blame but you blame me and for that I hate you and I will hate you more when you go into the army and come out and walk the streets of America as if you owned them always and forever.” (Okada, 81) Once more, Okada highlights his protagonist’s anger at both others and himself and blames all parties possible for his loss of self. His family holds a strong tie to Japan, despite his efforts to walk the streets as an American. Rachel Endo of the University of Washington, Tacoma also appreciates Okada’s use of literary devices in her article, “Reading Civil Disobedience, Disaffection, and Racialized Trauma in John Okada’s No-No Boy: Lessons Learned 75 Years After Executive Order 9066”. She notes within her work that “Okada offers a candid depiction of the significant personal costs and risks taken by No-No Boys who engaged in acts of civil disobedience during an era where they had little legal recourse to re/claim America as their own”. (Endo, 418) Ichiro Yamada exemplifies Endo’s elucidation in that he has a hard time fitting into American society post-World War II, where the US and Japan were on opposite ends.
Though both Okada and Ichiro hail from Japanese descent, they led drastically different lives. A predominant similarity between both immigrants is that they both lived through World War II. However, where Ichiro evaded the draft and was afterwards labeled a no-no boy and imprisoned for disloyalty, Okada “volunteered to join the US Army Air Forces during World War II”. (Google Sites, 1) Additionally, after the end of his deployment, Okada “returned to the University of Washington fora theoretical and interpretive mode that examines the appearance of race and racism across dominant cultural modes of expression. his bachelor’s degree in English after his time in the Army. He continued on to Columbia University to earn a master’s degree in English in 1949”. (Google Sites, 1) Contrarily, when asked about continuing his education, Ichiro responds with: “‘I don’t feel much like going to school.’” (Okada, 13)
For literary analysis, I chose to read No-No Boy using Critical Race Theory as my lens. Purdue University defines Critical Race Theory, or CRT, as “ a theoretical and interpretive mode that examines the appearance of race and racism across dominant cultural modes of expression.” (Purdue Owl, 1) Racial discrimination is especially preponderant in No-No Boy granted its historical context. The story takes place at the onset of World War II, where Japan and the United States are head-to-head and, as a result, America is victorious. Ichiro’s mother is very convinced that Japan has won the Second World War, and Mr. Yamada — despite his efforts to convince his wife otherwise — cannot change her mind nor present the actual happenings of the war to her. Mrs. Yamada takes pride in her son for “fighting for Japan”, remarking that “‘It is hard when so many no longer believe, but they are not Japanese like us… They just don’t understand that Japan did not lose the war because Japan could not possibly lose.’” (Okada, 24)
Being less attached to his Japanese heritage, Ichiro yearns “desperately to smash his way out of the dishonest, warped, and uncompromising world in which defeated people like his mother and the Ashidas walked their perilous tightropes and could not and would not look about them for having to keep their eyes fastened to the taut, thin support.” (Okada, 24) Not only does his detachment from his culture separate him from his family, but forcefully distinguishes him among outsiders as well. In another scene, Ichiro is brutally assaulted by a group of Taro’s friends: “A brutal kick on his behind sent Ichiro stumbling forward. His anger frothing over, he picked up momentum and lunged at the dim shape that was his brother. He swung his arms wildly at the two youths who stood between them. One of them threw himself athwart his legs and Ichiro sprawled heavily to the ground. He shook his head wearily and struggled to his knees… “‘Wants to fight,’” said another. “‘Just like a dog.’” “‘Dogs don’t wear pants.’” “‘Right.
We can’t let it run around with pants on.’” “‘No. People will think it’s human.’” Before he could struggle to his feet, his arms were pulled painfully behind him. Furiously, he attempted to kick himself loose. Immediately arms were clawing at his trouser legs and it was only a matter of moments before he was stretched out helplessly. There was a sharp snap and a slender youth bent over him with a wide grin and started to slip the knife blade under the leather belt.” (Okada, 79)
Throughout the book, Ichiro cannot decide whether he should identify as either Japanese or American, and his treatment from both groups is evidence enough to see why. Nearing the end of the book, I’ve come to appreciate Okada’s ability to use various writing techniques in emulating a story so similar, yet so different, from his own. No-No Boy has not only provided me with insights of society in times of war, but also on the process of life after immigration. Though Ichiro’s father frequently points out that he and Mrs. Yamada came to America to “make money”, finding a home and maintaining financial stability continued to be an adversity for them. When Ichiro returned from prison only to inform his mother of Japan’s loss, her nationalistic spirit breaks and she commits suicide accordingly. My heart ached for Ichiro to finally find a sense of self, that of which was to no avail. John Okada does a marvelous job at coalescing Japanese sentiments with American society to guide his protagonist through and beyond World War II. From his use of rhetorical questions to monologues and heart-rending diction, Okada immaculately tells the tale of Ichiro Yamada as if it were his own. Every moment of disruption, abuse, and depression that passed within the text helped me as a reader form a proper interpretation of both the fictional and realistic aspects of the book overall. So, should you read No-No Boy? Simply put, yes-yes!
Works Cited
- “Biography: Life of John Okada – No-No Boy by John Okada.” Google Sites, sites.google.com/site/nonoboybyjohnokada/biography.
- Endo, Rachel. “Reading Civil Disobedience, Disaffection, and Racialized Trauma in John Okada’s No-No Boy: Lessons Learned 75 Years After Executive Order 9066.”
- EBSCOhost, 18 Aug. 2017, content.ebscohost.com/ContentServer.asp?T=P&P=AN&K=133019722&S=R&D=a9h&EbscoContent=dGJyMNHX8kSeprI4yNfsOLCmsEiep65Ssay4S66WxWXS&ContentCustomer=dGJyMPGvsEyyqrFOuePfgeyx44Dt6fIA.
- Li, Wenxin. “An Untenable Dichotomy: The Idea of Home in John Okada’s No-No Boy.” EBSCOhost, June 2015, content.ebscohost.com/ContentServer.asp?T=P&P=AN&K=108332514&S=R&D=hus&EbscoContent=dGJyMNHX8kSeprI4yNfsOLCmsEiep65Ssa24TK%2BWxWXS&ContentCustomer=dGJyMPGvsEyyqrFOuePfgeyx44Dt6fIA.
- Okada, John. No-No Boy. Charles E. Tuttle, 1957, University of Washington Press, www.academia.edu/35846079/No_No_Boy.
