Japanese Culture Unveiled: The Still Life of Death and Sex Dolls

Customers are asked to keep conversation to a minimum upon entering Leiya Arata’s home studio in Osaka. By the time make-up and costumes are done, they are expected not to utter a single word, their transformation into a doll now complete.

“I wanted to be beautiful and be possessed by someone. Not to be dominated, but to be loved and cherished, like sex dolls are,” Ai Kaneko, a 39-year-old single nurse who travelled down from Tokyo, tells EPA.

Kaneko says the ‘factory’ saved her life from suicidal thoughts she began to have 15 years ago after finding the body of her boyfriend, who had hanged himself. “For many years after my boyfriend’s death, I was very unwell. I tried to kill myself many times,” she says.

Arata’s unique services have provided her with more stability. “It has become a place to cling to,” Kaneko says. “When I feel like I can no longer go on, knowing that I have this place makes me strong, very strong.”

The strain Kaneko feels is, sadly, quite common in Japan’s highly regimented society. As the Japanese proverb ‘The nail that sticks out will be hammered down’ implies, people in Japan are under enormous pressure to conform and avoid becoming that nail — an outlier from the rest of society. Many feel suffocated having to live within the confines of such strict social norms.

That is where Arata and her ‘factory’ of fantasies come in, catering to those with desires and dreams that might not be welcome in mainstream society.

As well as providing the chance at regenerative transformation with the human love doll package, Arata offers another peculiar ceremony in which people can say their final farewells to love dolls or sex dolls, which have become dear companions to many people in Japan, a country known for its high rates of social alienation and isolation.

The issue has even led to a phenomenon known as “hikikomori” (Japanese for “pulling inward”) — reclusive adolescents and adults who have completely withdrawn from the rest of society. Starved of human companionship, many in Japan grow emotionally attached to love dolls, going so far as holding funerals for these life-sized plastic partners.

Sat in front of a coffin containing the body of a sex doll named Ran, Lay Kato, a transgender Buddhist monk-turned porn actor, carefully handles a 3-foot-long Japanese samurai sword that is ceremonially given to the dead to fight the evil spirits on their way to the afterlife. In the corner of the room, two of Arata’s own sex dolls appear to mourn the ‘passing’ of Ran.

A central aspect of Japan’s Shinto religion is animism, the belief that spirits inhabit all things, big and small, natural and manmade. Holding funeral rites for sex dolls rather than merely disposing them as garbage is an extension of ‘ningyo kuyo’, a common Japanese practice of holding farewell ceremonies for dolls, says Kato, who plays the role of undertaker.

“A Buddha statue is a ‘thing’ but we worship it because we believe Buddha lives inside of it. The same goes for everything that we love and cherish, including sex dolls,” she says. Using the samurai sword, Kato points out that Buddha is neither male nor female. “Buddha teaches us to accept and love who we are. We have to learn to love ourselves.”

Arata agrees that her services conform to Buddhist beliefs, and says she wants to help sex doll owners have best possible way to send off their loved ones.  “These dolls are much more than sex partners for them. They are their family and we want to treat them as such”.

But Arata’s services also offer clients the opportunity to explore their own mortality, with the Shitai-labo, or Corpse Lab, which allows people to experience a sort of pseudo-death. Customers must request in advance how they wish ‘to die’ or ‘be killed’ in minute detail so that Arata can properly act out their fantasy and enhance the sense of reality as much as possible.

Megumi Kazuki, a 38-year-old sex counsellor from Osaka, wanted to be ‘murdered’ by her former partner whom she broke up with a few months ago but still has feelings for. “I wanted to be murdered by him so that I can forget about him once and for all and move on with my life,” Kazuki tells EPA.

Once the ‘murder’ is complete, Kazuki lifts herself up off the studio floor, smiles and breathes a deep sigh of relief. “I have been released. I feel great! I felt happiness with every part of my body,” she says.

Another customer who came to experience the fake death is dressed in a woman’s clothes and calls himself by a woman’s name, Mako. The 43-year-old artist from Tokyo, who has been cross-dressing for about four years, likens himself to figures from Greek mythology, Pygmalion, who falls in love with a statue of a woman he carved himself, or Narcissus who falls in love with his own reflection in the water.

“Maybe I’m a bit like them,” Mako says. “I don’t want to be a woman. I’m just attracted to the female version of myself.”

“It’s a strange feeling of my body being taken over by a female version of me,” he adds. “It’s like molting. Becoming something that isn’t really me but is still me.”

Lying inside a coffin and listening to a chant by the blonde-haired monk Kato, Mako, who recently lost his grandmother and sister, says he felt the finite nature of flesh and blood. “It made me realize that we are all walking toward death everyday, step by step. I will (die) one day, as everyone will. Feeling death as something real made me better prepared for that day.”

“Contemplating your own death can lead you to think about your life more seriously,” Arata says, running her finger over criss-crossing scars etched into her arm.

She has tried to kill herself many times ever since she was a young girl, when she suffered from intense bullying, she says. “I have these scars all over my body.”

Japan has the seventh-highest suicide rate in the world, and the highest out of the G7 nations, according to the latest available OECD data.

In the wake of the financial crises in 1997 and 2008, Japan saw an uptick in suicides that coincided with job losses and widespread financial uncertainty, and there are fears that the current economic gloom brought on by the Covid-19 pandemic might lead to another spike, particularly among the country’s young adults and those under 40, the most susceptible age group to suicide.

“I hope the Corpse Lab can offer them an opportunity to question their view on life and death, from inside a coffin,” Arata says.

She receives overwhelming numbers of messages and letters thanking her for relieving their pain and for saving them. It is a tiny fraction in a country where some 20,000 people kill themselves annually, but Arata hopes to give people a safe space to think about their own life and death without social prejudice.

In addition to providing the unique, interactive services, which can cost several hundred US dollars, Arata takes photographs so her clients can have a record of the experiences.

She says her customers are all looking for a place where they can be loved, accepted and approved. “They are all great human beings but have very low self-esteem. Their desire to change or be accepted and loved is so strong and this is the only place for many of them. I want to be there for that.”

How does she feel when she receives messages from her customers thanking her for saving them?

“It’s the other way around,” Arata insists. “My customers are the ones who give me strength to live my life. I’m saved by them.”

Photos by Dai Kurokawa, EPA This article was originally published by Dai Kurokawa on independent.co.uk and is being republished here with permission. The original article can be found [here]

**Japanese Culture‍ Unveiled: The Still Life of Death and Sex Dolls**



Japan has long been a nation of contrast and contradiction, where the ancient and the ultra-modern coexist ‍in harmony. One particular facet​ of Japanese culture that elicits both fascination and unease among outsiders ⁤is its treatment of life and death, and the interplay with ​sexuality encapsulated in controversies surrounding sex dolls. Unveiling the cultural, sociological, and​ historical layers of these phenomena⁣ presents a tableau that ⁤is as perplexing as it is‌ enlightening.



**A History and Culture Rooted in Ritual**



Japanese society⁢ reveres tradition ‍and spiritualism, drawing heavily from Shinto and Buddhist practices. This reverence extends to death, a subject treated with somber respect and meticulous rituals. Ancestral worship and careful rites underscore a cultural veneration for those⁢ who have‌ passed. ⁤The Shinto philosophy, with its emphasis on purity and pollution, often sees death as a contaminant, necessitating rigorous purification rituals.



On the flip ⁢side, Japan’s​ view on sexuality is nuanced and multifaceted. While public decorum ‌remains highly conservative, the private domain allows for a more liberal and exploratory‌ attitude towards sex. This dichotomy has spawned an industry that caters to sexual curiosity—a complex array of paraphernalia that includes ⁤lifelike sex‍ dolls designed to⁢ cater to diverse‍ fantasies.



**The Rise of Realistic​ Sex Dolls**



Technological advancements have elevated sex dolls from rudimentary forms to ‍hyper-realistic companions. Known as “Dutch wives” or “love dolls” in Japan, these figures‌ are meticulously crafted to simulate human bodies⁢ with ⁢astounding precision. Silicone skin, flexible joints, and exquisitely detailed faces blur the lines between the inanimate and the human.



This phenomenon, though often sensationalized, taps into deeper socio-cultural currents.​ Japan faces a demographic crisis: a shrinking ​population‍ marked by low ⁤birth rates and a ⁢significant portion of the elderly. The decline in⁢ traditional family structures has led to increasing social isolation.​ In​ response, some individuals turn to love dolls for companionship, filling emotional and physical voids that ‍human relationships cannot readily meet. The dolls‍ are not merely sexual objects;⁣ for many, they are surrogate partners ⁤who provide an essential sense ⁤of connection and intimacy.



**Sex ⁣Dolls and Death Rituals: A Symbolic Intersection**



The concept of inanimate figures standing ​in for human ‌connection is‌ not new in Japan. Traditional ‍practices involving “hitogata”—paper dolls used in rituals to represent people for spiritual cleansing or protection—mirror the⁢ contemporary use ​of sex dolls. These objects serve to absorb one’s impurities or misfortunes, thereby granting the owner a renewed sense of purity. Similarly, sex dolls, in their roles as silent confidants and companions, reflect a parallel spiritual and emotional cleansing.



The intersection of‍ death and ⁣sex dolls can also be contemplated through the culture’s nuanced⁢ understanding of life‍ and⁤ non-life. For many Japanese, the line between animate and inanimate is less rigid. Art ⁣forms such as “ikebana” (flower arranging) and “bonsai” (miniature tree cultivation) capture life’s transient beauty and ​impermanence, concepts deeply⁢ ingrained⁢ in Japanese philosophy. Sex dolls may be seen as‌ another‌ medium‍ to explore the essence of humanity, sexuality, and companionship.



**The Sociological Dimension**



While ​some⁣ see the rise of sex dolls as a disturbing trend indicative of a detachment from human relationships, others argue it addresses ⁣real⁤ emotional and‌ social needs. Studies show that solitude and loneliness can have dire psychological and physical health impacts. In Japan, where societal pressures often dictate rigorous life paths, sex dolls might provide⁢ a respite ‍for those unable or unwilling ⁢to conform.



Critically, the phenomenon suggests a rethinking of societal norms regarding ​relationships and companionship. It challenges ‍the conventional understanding of what constitutes a fulfilling human experience and posits alternatives that, while unorthodox, strive to fulfill the same fundamental needs for connection and intimacy.



**Conclusion**



The enigmatic world of ⁢Japanese ‌cultural practices⁤ regarding death and the utilization of sex dolls offers profound insights into how humanity navigates its existential dilemmas. These⁢ seemingly disparate elements of ⁢culture converge to unveil a complex narrative woven from threads ⁣of tradition, modernity, spirituality, and human desire. As technology continues ⁤to evolve and societal ⁢norms shift, Japan’s unique approach to life, death, and companionship presents a compelling case study—one that⁢ invites reflection on the⁢ universal quest for connection and the myriad forms it can take.