In Rethinking Japan’s Modernity: Stories and Translations, M. William Steele examines Japan’s transformation from feudalism to modernity between 1853 and 1931 from a fascinating perspective. He demonstrates that this was an arduous, multilayered, and multifaceted process by offering an alternative view of Japanese modernity, rather than the conventional top-down narrative centred on political, economic, and diplomatic developments. He takes a more bottom-up approach, exploring how contemporaries understood, responded to, and coped with the radical changes of the era. Their reactions encompassed mixed emotions from anxiety and frustration to hope and disillusionment. To illustrate such complex feelings, Steele utilises a wide variety of visual and textual sources. Many come from his own collection, adding authenticity and intimacy to his narrative. Through insightful analysis, he deepens our understanding of modern Japan, as if a missing piece we never knew existed has finally been put in the right place.

Since Steele’s early academic career focused on the ‘losers’ side’ of the Meiji Restoration by choosing Katsu Kaishū (1823–1899), a loyal Tokugawa retainer, as the main protagonist, it is perhaps not at all surprising that he has decided to embrace Japan’s modernity in a different light. The thirteen chapters cover different themes, each with a distinct personal connection. For example, his childhood memory of hearing ‘stories of Japan across the Pacific’ (p. 8) is reflected in chapter one, exploring the opening of Japan by US Commodore Matthew Perry (1794–1858) in 1853 from a Californian perspective. This fresh look at the events leading to Perry’s arrival is effectively told through local newspapers, such as the Daily Alta California (1849–1891). Steele portrays how enthusiastic ordinary Californians were about playing a leading role in engaging with Japan through trade. Yokohama merchants reciprocated the enthusiasm. This demonstrates that the opening of Japan was not only anxiety-inducing but also engendered optimism, enabling positive interactions among ordinary people across the Pacific.

Transnational interactions between Japanese and Western counterparts emerge as a recurring theme throughout the book. Steele’s outlook in this respect is generally positive, as exemplified by chapter ten, which discusses Japanese and British perceptions of the Anglo–Japanese Alliance of 1902. The alliance indeed marked Japan’s long-sought recognition as a great power. Steele explains the ‘alliance craze’ (p. 228) among ordinary people, which can be observed in newspapers, such as the Jiji shinpō, in the form of celebrations and processions. The British populace also welcomed the alliance, albeit with some reservations; given their perceived superiority within the imperial hierarchy, this was inevitable. Steele frames the upsurge of nationalism in Japan in the wake of the alliance as ‘peace-oriented’ (p. 219), striving to catch up with the West. This stems from his objective interpretation of nationalism as ‘not inherently xenophobic or imperialistic’ (p. 233). However, he is also realistic that the alliance contained elements of militarism, which is a fair observation, as it was, after all, a military agreement.

On a cultural level, Steele also explores transnational exchange and cooperation between Japanese and Western antiquarians in chapter nine, through the Mingei (folk craft) Movement, which represented ‘cultural hybridity and anti-modernism’ (p. 200). This is because, while being inspired by the West, they were also critical of rapid modernisation and its effect on the arts, striving to conserve the simplicity and refinement of often provincial craftsmanship across Japan. Steele effectively highlights the complex nature of Japan’s modernisation, where modernity was both adopted and challenged simultaneously. He further stresses that although Yanagi Sōetsu (1889–1961) is well known as the founder of the Mingei Movement, the contributions of other antiquarians, such as Edward Sylvester Morse (1838–1925) and Okakura Kakuzō (1863–1913), who tried to promote Japanese arts and aesthetics, cannot be ignored. Its significance was ultimately shaped by a collective endeavour. However, Steele also reminds us of the ‘less dominant voices’ (p. 104) that rejected rapid modernisation through Sada Kaiseki’s (1818–1882) campaign (chapter five) to restrict imported goods, which he believed would ‘lead to loss of cultural identity and national bankruptcy’ (p. 103).

Chapter 11 turns to a compelling example of transnational humanitarianism in the wake of the Great Tōhoku Famine of 1905. Many foreign media outlets, notably the US-based Christian Herald, extensively reported on this devastating famine, urging American readers to contribute. They successfully raised substantial donations and saved lives, and Japanese counterparts followed suit. Both criticised the Japanese government for its inadequate response in providing relief. The unmodernised Tōhoku region indeed exposed the obvious failure of the government and zaibatsu, revealing the dark side of Japan’s modernity. However, as Steele emphasises, the power of international goodwill is an essential part of Japan’s modernity and deserves to be recognised. He continually reminds us that ordinary people’s experiences are as valid as those of political elites and intellectuals.

This emphasis is clear in chapters two and four, which focus on how ordinary Japanese people experienced the political, economic, and social upheavals surrounding the Meiji Restoration. Steele explores these through close analysis of visual and textual materials, such as The Kaei Chronicle (1853–1868) and The Toba War of Farts. Regarded as valuable historical sources, they portray how people viewed and coped with radical change. For many, the year 1868 was an ‘annus horribilis’ (p. 76): the collapse of Tokugawa hegemony and the transfer of political power to the new imperial government were frightening and confusing. This was exacerbated by civil war, epidemics such as cholera, fires, earthquakes, and floods, all of which claimed many lives. Steele also shows how people turned to humour, satire, and religious activities to endure these adversities, while also losing faith in the Tokugawa government for its failure to provide support. This may have contributed to the demise of the long-standing shogunate. In the Taishō era, postcards played a similar role to woodblock prints of early Meiji, as explained in chapter 12 in the context of the Great Kantō Earthquake of 1923. However, postcards from the 1920s present a more vivid and often unsettling image of Taishō Japan. Steele observes that they did more than depict the disaster; they also served as a means of communication, often reflecting the dichotomies of the era, such as authoritarianism versus democracy and modernity versus a longing for the past.

The remaining five chapters are dedicated to alternative intellectual discourse and critical reflection on Japan’s modernity. Steele chooses Fukuzawa Yukichi (1835–1901), Katsu Kaishū, Mantei Ōga (1819–1890), and Kume Kunitake (1839–1931) to this end. For example, Fukuzawa, a prominent intellectual, is discussed not simply as a proponent of civilisation and enlightenment but also as a militant nationalist who supported expansionism. He himself became the object of criticism, notably by Mantei, who mocked his unwavering support for Western-inspired ideas. Fukuzawa was a Tokugawa supporter like Katsu, though Katsu adopted a more conciliatory approach. Fukuzawa resented Katsu precisely because of this, as he did not ‘fight to the bitter end’ (p. 171) but instead chose to play a vital role as a peacemaker between the Tokugawa and the new regime. Moreover, Katsu’s reflection on the Meiji Restoration was positive, stressing that modern Japan owed much to the Tokugawa past for its ‘peace, stability and moral integrity’ (p. 155). As for Kume, most famous as the historiographer of the Iwakura Mission (1871–1873), a diplomatic journey aimed at negotiating with and learning from the West, Steele explains, in the context of the First World War, how Kume came to realise, and thus grew concerned, that the Western civilisation he had helped to import was grounded in ‘military preparedness’ (p. 300). These varied intellectual discourses add depth to our understanding of modern Japan.

Overall, Rethinking Japan’s Modernity is such an engaging and fascinating read. However, as it presents an alternative narrative, those unfamiliar with the mainstream history may find it harder to fully appreciate his unique approach. Still, Steele’s message is clear—past, present, and future are all connected, and by engaging critically with history, we can make sense of the present and be prepared for the unpredictable future. It is a valuable contribution to understanding Japan’s modernity, which was not a linear process but one shaped by diverse actors, contested ideas, and transnational interactions.