Re: Welcome to Hiroshima

Mary Jo Salter, Welcome to Hiroshima

Unlike many pieces of writing centered around the city of Hiroshima in Japan, Mary Jo Salter's poem “Welcome to Hiroshima” speaks more on the Hiroshima of today rather than the day of the bombing. Obviously, the city is still very much haunted by the memory of the atomic bomb, but not in the way one might expect from seeing other countries' memorials to tragic events. The Hiroshima of Salter's poem is a strange mix of subdued monuments, commercialized hype, and an underlying sense of creeping, lingering resentment.

It is a commonly known characteristic of the Japanese, as well as citizens of other Asian countries, to downplay or cover up signs of weakness. For example, during the tsunami crisis a year or two ago, the Japanese seemed to be doing fine struggling through the disaster on their own, without accepting much or any help from foreign countries. This strategy makes sense, as it is especially unwise to show vulnerability in a part of the world where hard work and success are prized and where opportunistic leaders make use of all chances to get ahead. Thus, the “plastic dioramas” and “billboard brought to you...by Toshiba Electric” constitute much of the current-day Hiroshima's monuments to the bomb. Turning the event into a sort of local attraction that symbolizes the city, while still recognizing the horror and tragedy involved with it, allows Japan to effectively shunt the bombing into the past and show that the country is still just as technologically advanced and powerful as it has always striven for.

However, there is still a dark undertone to Hiroshima, hidden beneath the electric billboards and sunny coffee shops, and one that Salter exploses some of through this poem. It actually plays into the theme of the bomb very nicely; after the initial explosion and damage, there is a deceptively quiet calm that in reality is just as dangerous. The Ohta River is no longer coated in “blood and scum,” but the real danger of an atomic bomb lies in the invisible, almost undetectable radiation that still pervades the area. Such a danger can easily go unnoticed in “the water...they pour...for your morning cup of tea.” Moreover, if we continue with the idea of the nature of the bomb's damage reflective society's attitudes regarding the atomic bombings, this signifies a hidden, but still present, dislike and resentment on the part of the Japanese towards the perpetrators of the bombings. In addition, like the radiation that lingers after a nuclear bomb strike, this simmering anger could theoretically still end up poisoning relations between Japan and the United States.


Works Cited:

Salter, Mary J. Henry Purcell in Japan: Poems. New York: Knopf, 1985. Print.