If you look through my back catalogue, you’d be forgiven for coming to the conclusion that I’m the world’s biggest pessimist. I’m really not, but I do like to dwell on thoughts of things going wrong. After all, that’s pretty much my basic definition of a story – the protagonist has an aim, and things keep going wrong as they try to achieve it. I’m actually an optimist at heart, though it has been hard to find much to cheer about over the last few years.
I had an experience last year that had a profound effect on me. Having grown up during the Cold War under the looming threat of nuclear apocalypse, I’d always harboured a deep desire to visit Hiroshima and Nagasaki in Japan. I finally fulfilled that ambition last November, and I wrote about it here when I got home.
It’s 79 years this week since the two atomic bombs were dropped on Japan, and I’d been thinking about writing something more about my visit for quite some time. I didn’t quite know what angle to approach the post from, but events here in the UK over the last few weeks presented me with a clear perspective.
I’ve embedded a little bit of footage from Hiroshima here (yes, I’ve reluctantly relented and joined TikTok – I have no friends there yet, so please follow). My pictures do no justice whatsoever to the beauty of the city, and they definitely do nothing to convey the serenity and warmth we felt as visitors. Both Hiroshima and Nagasaki are remarkable places.
No matter how many books you read or films you watch about the horror of nuclear war, there’s no question the reality would be infinitely worse. Both cities have sombre, yet enlightening museums and exhibits, where the events of the 6th and 9th of August 1945 are presented in raw and unflinching detail.
And yet, standing in person in front of the Atomic Bomb Dome and next to Nagasaki’s iconic One-Legged Torii Gate, it’s almost impossible to believe that such appalling events ever took place there. Whilst confronting and embracing their history, both cities now feel safe, strong, and welcoming.
I’m not really sure what I expected to feel in Japan last November, but I didn’t expect that visiting the sites of the atomic bombings would be such a positive and cathartic experience. I came away thinking if people can rebuild after such extreme levels of unrelenting physical and mental pain, then human beings must be capable of recovering from anything over time. I came away from the trip with a renewed sense of optimism and a feeling that no matter how bloody terrible things might get, it’s always possible that they will get better.
I hope all that doesn’t sound too corny. My visit to Japan has definitely had an impact on my writing, perhaps only to reaffirm the approach I’ve previously taken. Even my most brutal books – the HATER series especially – end with a hint of optimism. I thought I was being naive, but it turns out I’m not as much of an idle dreamer as I thought.
So, what’s any of this got to do with what’s been happening here in the UK this week? Wherever you are in the world, you’ve no doubt have heard about the far-right thuggery that broke out in several cities here, encouraged by moronic social media gurus (please note – a person’s intelligence and their wealth are not necessarily correlated), years of dog-whistling from grifter politicians, and the long-term impact of our appalling right-wing press drip-feeding racist headlines. We’re certainly not out of the woods yet – more riots are threatened for this weekend, and the thugs do like to come out when a) it’s sunny and b) there’s no work in the morning – but the response of the public to all of this on Wednesday night was incredible. The streets in many places were filled with peaceful anti-racist protestors, massively outnumbering those who were there to cause trouble. Seeing the crowds coming together and standing against the rioters filled me with the same kind of hope I felt in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Human beings can be pretty bloody awful at times, but the majority of us can also be pretty bloody wonderful too. I hope you have a safe and peaceful weekend.
