A fascinating, if occasionally frustrating, survey of the great animator's career. I know very little of Miyazaki beyond his films, so I'm not sure how obscure the information here is, but to me Napier appears to have done a very thorough job in her research, combing key Japanese sources as well as the Anglophone stuff; there's not a chapter where I didn't learn new factual information, even aside from the generally illuminating analysis. Alas, the facts do not always redound to Miyazaki's credit. This is by no means a hatchet job, but someone I'd always pictured as an avuncular and loveable figure turns out to be in many respects a bit of an arse. True, he was a staunch union man, and Ghibli's stable employment terms were rare and welcome compared to most of the Japanese animation industry – but he also appears to have quite a temper on him. One telling incident occurs when he thinks the marketing department are taking too much credit for the success of <i>Spirited Away</i> and so, to prove them wrong, insists there'll be no marketing for <i>Howl's Moving Castle</i>. I mean, really. And it turns out that, while making some of the best children's films ever, he was himself being a pretty neglectful father. Which, yes, is a fairly standard cliche of the creator for children (cf that Enid Blyton biopic, for starters), but somehow one expected Miyazaki to be different, or at any rate I did. Perhaps most shocking; <i>Totoro</i> and <i>Kiki</i>, those two paeans to a gentler pace of life, my definite favourite of his films and the probable runner-up? He didn't take any break between them. And that's even before age and the darkening world scene take a hand. A recurring theme here is the tension between Miyazaki's compassion and hope, and his anger at human stupidity, with the latter tending to gain ever more of an upper hand as time progresses and people continue to wreck the world and each other.

I'd also been unaware of quite how interconnected the animation scene in Japan was; it seems crazy that Kiki's European neverland town of Koriko should be the work of the same artist as Akira's Neo-Tokyo, but apparently so! The creators of <i>Evangelion</i> and <i>Ghost in the Shell</i> also worked at Ghibli, and not that I really know either at all well, but apparently the former's sinister NERV was based on life at the studio. Though so is the bath-house in <i>Spirited Away</i> – Napier's favourite Miyazaki film, though probably the one I like least (for all its undoubted beauties – I hate audience identification characters in general, and find the message a little clunky, the story a little less unique than in his other work). Aside from such subjective differences, though, there are one or two infelicities which I'd hope will be corrected by editorial between this Netgalley proof and the final book. Describing the Ohmu from <i>Nausicaä</i> as "objectively speaking, quite grotesque" is awful phrasing, in that it makes it sound like Napier has totally missed the point of the story, even as the rest of her writing on the film and the manga (they get a chapter each) makes abundantly clear that she has not. Brian Aldiss' <i>The Long Afternoon of Earth</i> is cited as an influence on Miyazaki, but while we always get a clarifying note with Japanese titles for the films, there's no reference to this being only the initial, abridged US publication of the book better known as <i>Hothouse</i>. And the notion that the pendant in <i>Laputa</i> works like 'kryptonite, except in reverse', is just a terrible metaphor – the sort of thing which only works if you play it explicitly for laughs, as with those Vogon ships hanging in the sky in exactly the way a brick doesn't.

Speaking of which, who knew that Miyazaki himself wasn't fond of flying? I suppose on one level this makes perfect sense, because how could real world flying ever compare to flight in Miyazaki's films – which itself may only be an approximation of his own dreams of flying. Consider also his fraught relationship with his family's own history, and the way it intertwines with the story of the Mitsubishi Zero, for which they did very nicely by making parts, a situation which in turn enabled them to escape the worst of the bombing at the war's end – while leaving others in need behind, something about which Miyazaki still seems to feel furiously guilty, despite being only a child at the time. I think I was dimly aware from around the time of <i>The Wind Rises</i> that he had some personal connection to the Zero, and obviously one can sense from most of his films his guilt at the past century or so of Japanese history, but I had no idea it was quite so fraught or personal. And then add to that his fractious relationship with his womanising dad, the respectful but argumentative one with his mum, the difficulties both with his actual son and with Ghibli's other young animators, his surrogate children...it seems to have been a very frustrating life. And that love of the purity of warplanes, married to a fierce disdain for the very fact of war which engenders them, has its mirror in his own work: the master of animation, devoting his life to his art, then insisting he takes no pride in what he's done, and only wishes kids would go play outside instead of watching his films.

If all of this makes <i>Miyazakiworld</i> sound like a depressing read, it shouldn't. More than anything, reading it reminds you quite what a remarkable body of work Miyazaki has created, and sometimes even the descriptions of the scenes under discussion were enough to make me well up just like the scenes themselves do. As well as wanting to revisit the classics, I've been left curious to see early work like <i>Gulliver's Travels Beyond the Moon</i> and especially <i>Future Boy Conan</i>, not just for their prefiguring of themes to which he'd later return, but because Hell, they're just more Miyazaki, aren't they? And Napier has a knack for summing up those themes. On the central question of <i>Mononoke</i>, for instance: "Can we live ethically in a cursed world? And if so, how?" Or more broadly, "relaxed interaction with otherness" as a fundamental feature of Miyazakiworld. One could easily take a paragraph or a page trying to sum up either of those, and there they are in a line each. And the stories from behind the scenes aren't always grim, either. I was particularly taken with the notion of Miyazaki touring the valleys of Wales two months after the miners' strike ended, researching landscapes for <i>Laputa</i>. Not least because when the first half of that film later became the first Ghibli I saw, it was elsewhere in British mining country, specifically Yorkshire. And then to add another layer of recursion, it would go on to be the best part of twenty years before I finally managed to see the rest of the film, thus pretty much recapitulating the film's own story of a fabulous world glimpsed from afar and then lost. Well, I'm so glad I got to find it again in the end, and it's lovely that now we have a guidebook too. I just hope its creator finds a little more peace with his legacy in his remaining time.

I really hate that I'm DNFing this book. I wanted to love it as much as I loved his movies but unfortunately after 15% through I realized this book is not for me. I love Hayao Miyazaki but I think I need to love him through his movies and not through reading this book.

This book is extremely thorough. It was very impressive how much research Susan Napier has put into this book. Unfortunately, I found all that detail a little dull. When I found myself skimming the book, I knew it was time to put it down.

Miyazakiworld is for the hardcore fans in my opinion. If you have a love for Miyazaki and the Japanese culture, this book is definitely for you.

A few years ago, I discovered Studio Ghibli and fell in love with Japanese anime. I'm particularly fond of Ghibli founder Hayao Miyazaki's ability to use animation to tell stories that are emotionally moving, visually stunning, and intellectually stimulating. Miyazaki's films combine whimsical settings, strong female protagonists, and unconventional plots. I'm still new to this brave new world of anime, so I was excited to find Japanese culture expert Susan Napier's latest book to help me make sense of Miyazaki's oeuvre.

There have been many, many books, articles, and YouTube videos analyzing Studio Ghibli's films. Miyazakiworld brings a new perspective by looking at the films through the lens of Hayao Miyazaki's biography. Unlike high-profile storytellers in the West, Miyazaki is a very private person who seldom sits for interviews. However, he has been outspoken about some of his beliefs, particularly when it comes to war and the environment. Napier pieces together bits of biographical information and statements from interviews and looks at how they can help us interpret Miyazaki's art.

After a brief biographical sketch of Miyazaki's early life, the book looks at each of his major works in chronological order. Napier is admirably comprehensive, covering not just at Miyazaki's more prominent Studio Ghibli films, but also his earlier films, such as Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro, and his brief foray in TV with Future Boy Conan. She even dedicates an entire chapter to his epic Nausicaä and the Valley of the Wind manga, an important yet often overlooked work in Miyazakiworld. In taking a chronological approach, Napier is able to show how Miyazaki's view changed over time, and in turn how these changes influenced his art. While Miyazaki has remained consistently opposed to war and in favor of environmental protection, his faith in humanity's ability to navigate these challenges evolves in interesting ways.

Miyazakiworld isn't a detailed biography in the conventional sense, despite the fact that shows how Miyazaki's life influenced his art. For example, there's surprisingly little about the founding of Studio Ghibli or Miyazaki's family. By the end of the book, Hayao Miyazaki remains something of an enigma wrapped in contradictions. The man who produced such whimsical children's films also as a cantankerous side. While I wouldn't characterize all of his films as optimistic, they do suggest a faith in the wonder of human imagination that belies Miyazaki's more cynical statements about humanity in interviews. Napier does an excellent job trying to unpack this complex artist's work, but I definitely feel like there's more to learn about Miyazakiworld. 

Highly recommended to fans of anime and Japanese culture, particularly Studio Ghibli.

[Note: I received a copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.]

The life of Hayao Miyazaki, his movies and his Japan. A very interesting book for all the worldwide fans of this brilliant and visionarie genius. I can also say that this book is not for everybody, but if you already love him, this is a good summing up of his ideas and point of view.

La vita di Hayao Miyazaki, i suoi film ed il suo Giappone. Un libro molto interessante per tutti i fans del genio visionario sparsi per il mondo. Indubbiamente questo non é un libro per tutti, ma se giá lo conoscete questo potrebbe un ottimo volume per completare la sua scoperta.

THANKS NETGALLEY FOR THE PREVIEW!

Miyazakiworld is an enlightening read on the renowned movies created by Hayao Miyazaki. It offers insights on each movie and explored subtle themes that are traced through all of Miyazaki's works.

Studio Ghibli films are a great joy to watch, and this book lets the audience to delve deeper into the Miyazaki World, allowing us to see it through Miyazaki's thoughts and understanding the developer's subconscious. It takes the films to a whole new level, letting us understand the messages and metaphors laced within.

Miyazakiworld: A Life in Art gives reader's a greater appreciation for Hayao Miyazaki's films and sheds light on the person who created some of the world's most beloved films.

Ogni volta che rivedo un film di Hayao Miyazaki o Isao takahata è una prima visione: la freschezza delle immagini, la lussureggiante qualità degli sfondi, la complessità dei personaggi, la varietà di ambientazioni e vicende me li rendono sempre nuovi.

Ho i miei preferiti, ovviamente (Porco Rosso, Totoro, Only Yesterday fra tutti) ma non ce ne è uno che non abbia visto e rivisto - ossessivamente, direbbe qualcuno.

Lo stesso è capitato all'autrice di questo bellissimo volume, che però, forte di decenni di conoscenza della cultura e della società giapponese, ha analizzato la vita e l'opera (anzi, le opere) del Maestro alla luce non solo delle fonti di ispirazione, dichiarate o meno, ma dell'influenza che hanno avuto nel Sol Levante prima e in tutto il mondo in seguito.

Ne risulta un saggio solido, denso, inusuale, lontano da quel poco, spesso all'acqua di rose, che ho letto negli anni.

Interessante e appassionante, da leggere magari premettendo a ogni capitolo una rispolverata del film trattato.