Libertarian musings from just inside the M25.

Since my time in Tokyo is drawing slowly but surely to a close, the moment of the final look-back and analysis of my stay is coming ever nearer. I will leave my overall impressions and vaguer musings for the very last entry, but I think that the unique nature of Tokyo as a city and metropolis probably justifies sifting out my treatment of it as a subject of acerbic scrutiny into a separate blog-post. Tokyo is noticeably different from what I’ve seen of the rest of Japan – which admittedly doesn’t include the other major cities of Kyoto, Osaka and arguably Sapporo, so the impressions of Tokyo may ring true of the other large cities to a certain extent as well – in the sense that it provides a view of the country through the Westernised kaleidoscope of globalisation and cosmopolitanism. In other words, I’m going to rattle through what I think of the various candidates for ‘city-centres’ in the inner urban area now, and then let them off the hook for the next couple of days. In true modern bite-size brevity-is-the-soul-of-wit style, I’m also going to try and burden each of the areas I will look at with a short epithet by way of a convenient summary.

Shibuya, 渋谷: Garden of Earthly Delights. Shibuya – and by extension Harajuku,  – is not a place for the agoraphobic, the timid, or the conservative. The colours are loud, the hair is outrageous, the skirts are short, and the stockings are frilly. Being a ‘Shibuyette’ (or the male equivalent, ‘Shibuyob’ or something perhaps) is the mainstream Japanese equivalent of being a ‘Valley girl’, a goth or a punk – you create your own identity according to your own norms, and you stand out on your own terms, which you so happen to have adopted from the latest fashion craze rippling through the trendsetters in A-list Tokyo society. Experimental materialism rules OK. It’s two fingers stuck up to society, but with carefully applied nail varnish and a fair amount of jewellery and litres of fake tan. Money talks, bling talks louder. And the shops lap it up.

Shinjuku, 新宿: The Hub. Grey people doing grey jobs in grey buildings, with the squat spider of Shinjuku stations throwing the strands of its web in all directions. This is where people earn the money they spend in Shibuya – the only form of entertainment here is the red-light district to the east, and even that consists in some making money at the expense of others. Money talks here as well, but it uses the stern tones of power and administration instead of the shrill cackle of hedonism and consumerism. Shinjuku means “new highway station”, and in many senses it really is the centre of modern Japan. The government buildings may be in Chiyoda, but the on-switch of the metropolis is here.

Ikebukuro, 池袋: The Great Alternative. Everything here belongs into the category of things that could complete the sentence “or, if you like, you could also go to…” – the whole area is like a collective Plan B, a microcosmic bazaar of everything else Tokyo has to offer. The cosplayers from Akihabara also come to Ikebukuro, the shoppers from Ginza and Shibuya also come here, the museum-goers and animal-lovers and nerds and numismatists and people-watchers also come here after their respective first ports of call. And all of this is underscored by the main industry of Ikebukuro: gaming saloons. The rows and rows of iconic pachinkos, パチンコ, with totally focused gamers of every possible background glued to them – salarymen and low-lifes, schoolchildren and pensioners. Everyone can find something to do in Ikebukuro.

Ueno, 上野: Green Zone. From the tower-blocks of academia to the swan-boats on the lake, this is one of the more peaceful, saner areas of Tokyo – and believe me, they are few and far between. Museums, the concert hall, the zoo, the indisputably civilised station shopping mall, and the proximity to the religious nexus at Asakusa make this a haven for the more inquisitive, discerning tourists who have things to do other than throw money at the Japanese economy. It is also the only place that provides everything one might possibly require for a casual stroll in the whole of Tokyo – even on weekends the sights do not become overcrowded, and there are areas of serene seclusion (like the Tokugawa family graveyard) that allow more introspective visitors to zone out of the frenetic chatter of the outside world, and lose themselves in contemplation.

Ginza, 銀座: Knightsbridge. The Old Style of shopping centres – food at the bottom, women’s clothes on all the floors above ground except for a solitary men’s section up at the very top – all of which are completely interchangeable in my view. The prices are universally extortionate, the fashions are unanimously generic, and the salespeople are all equally aggressive smiling assassins of your bank balance. The big names are here – Prada, Swarovski, Christian Dior, Chanel, Hugo Boss, Tiffany’s – waiting patiently for the celebrities to appear and clean out their latest collections. Life here is unhurried – the reputation for quality is assured, and the willingness to pay will materialise eventually as well.

Roppongi, 六本木: The Big Easy. The Cradle of Cool, with untouchable dominance of Tokyo nightlife. The place where anything goes, no matter how foreign or sweaty or balding or pervy – anyone can slot into Roppongi life. Where Shibuya is brash and Ikebukuro is wide-eyed, Roppongi exudes the seedy charm of the vaudeville performer down on his luck – a region with two faces, each a mask of inscrutable unpredictability.  The aspiration and class of Roppongi Hills, next to the carnal aggressiveness of its alleys and backstreets – Roppongi will swallow up unsuspecting visitors and take them for the ride of their lives. All they have to do is hang on – because there’s no knowing where they might end up if they lose control.

So what’s my conclusion? Each of the stops on this hexagon is its own hive of frantic activity. All of it is just as crucial or pointless as its alternatives. Tokyo just doesn’t have a single centre, a single source of its shimmering glare of sophistication, a single motor of its intricate identity. People go where they feel most comfortable – but even if their view of comfort changes, Tokyo will always be able to provide them with an outlet for their desires. All they have to do is look…