That's quite a funny one, Setsunai. I often feel schizophrenic impulses curdling inside me when I'm asked to say something about Japan to friends at home. In all honesty, I think the over-whelming impression I get about Japan is the Japanese concept of authenticity and how it differs to ours in the west. But that's not always what the folks back home want to hear.

I find that often they don't even want to hear anything: they're just asking to be polite.

Your Japan must be a lot different from mine, up there in Aomori with the cold winters and without the hordes of Tokyo.

I've found that my concept of Japan changes with me over the years, and often my concept of what it is is actually my concept of who I am, if that makes sense.

What do you mean about the differences in the concept of authenticity by the way?

Alan Booth is one of the few writers who can make me feel awe at his acceptance of the quirks of humanity, his humour, humility and sheer wisdom in human ways. And he loved beer. Obviously a demi-god. I miss him.

"And he loved beer."

I have never read anyone write so lovingly about beer!

He use to call it foot gasoline....beer that is...

Every Obon I reread Roads to Sata and I always recommend it anyone with even a smidgen of interest in Japan. Wish Asahi (Mainichi?) would print all his old columns that he wrote, they're still topical....

jeff, how can we persuade them to make these available?

I knew Alan when he was the director and I the actor in several productions including a Japanese inspired version of a French play about a Greek myth Phaedra. He was simply the most intuitive person I have ever met. Reading Roads to Sato was to hear him speak. I agree he did like his beer and consumed a vast quantity of that which I brewed. One very enjoyable afternoon in Birmingham in 1969/70!

David, thanks for taking the time to comment. Made my day!

Where is Alan Booth now ?

You'll find out, one day.

Well..... He is in my brain, my heart and many other places.

Here, there, everywhere.

Ah I lived in Japan in the early 90's and I loved Alan Booth. whenever I was getting irritated and annoyed by all things Japanese I'd pick up Roads to Sata and laugh (and enjoy Japan again).

I haven't been back since leaving in 1993, so now when I miss Japan I read something of his. He always managed to write how I felt.

And I think my dad went to the same school as him around the same time.

I don't know if any of you have read Hokkaido Highway Blues, and I haven't read Roads to Sata, but the author of the former was a fan of Alan Booth.
Oh, it is by Will Ferguson.

Funny thing that such a fine writer as Booth should draw so little attention.

When I read his work. I am now on Looking For The Lost. I wonder about the strings attached to his life. What happened to his wife and daughter and do any Japanese people read his work and think on life in Japan today and will his work be read in 50 years. Things to think about.

Nice to join this small community of fan of Alan Booth.

Indeed. I hope his wife and daughter know how many people love his writing and appreciate him. I'm a brewer and I'd love to have many beers with him, might have to wait though.

I too have lived in Japan and have enjoyed everything I have read by Alan Booth. But before him there was Donald Richie and his book, The Inland Sea. An incredible book of a lost Japan by a gifted writer.

I too am a great fan of Alan's writing. While living in Japan I regularly re-read The Roads to Sata because it summed up with humour, the joys and frustrations of living long-term in Japan. Why is it that the good writers die and the indifferent ones keep churning out rubbish?

I just came across these comments about Alan Booth, and was delighted to see them. I was lucky enough to get to know Alan when I first visited Japan, and whatever little I understand about that complicated country I owe largely to him. He died much too young; all of us who knew him still miss him badly, but at least he left us his sharply observed, funny, insightful writing - there is so much of him in that.

One lasting memory is of a perfect spring day in a park in western Tokyo; as the sakura blossoms almost visibly unfolded in the warmth of the sun, we shared mats and drank beer and sake with other regulars from a small bar he liked to go to, swapping British and Japanese folksongs with ever-increasing enthusiasm and volume (Alan, naturally, sang both with equal gusto!) It was one of the few truly magical moments in my life - totally unforgetable.

Alan could become very frustrated by the difficulty foreigners tend to experience in being truly accepted by Japanese society, and his was in many ways a love-hate relationship with the country and its people; but I think there was always more love than hate in it. Indeed, hate is probably the wrong word; disappointment might be a better one.

I agree that his writing should be much better known than it is. Why Penguin let their edition of The Roads to Sata go out of print is a mystery; you'd think they'd want to have one of the classics of travel writing in their list, and if they just had a look at the Amazon 'customer comments' about the book they would see what a continuing success it could be if really marketed well. (Still, I guess we should be grateful to Kodansha for at least keeping it in print.)

I know his wife Su and their daughter Mirai would be touched by Barry’s mention of them. I'll make sure they see that comment, and this whole exchange. By the way, Su is flourishing in SE Asia, and Mirai has just graduated from university in the US (appropriately enough, in theatre studies!)

Alan Booth brought to life, with lyrical brillance and narrative skill, the people and places he encountered in the seemingly remote countryside along the Sea of Japan coast that would have otherwise remained anonymous or have been regarded with much the same curious indifference one has for the place names on a two dimensional, paper map. "The Roads to Sata", though a travel memoir, remains one of the best books I have ever read. Should I be fortunate, I would like to replicate Mr. Booth's journey and drink a toast to his merry soul along the way.