Recently, I had taken a trip to UBC’s “Rare Books and Special Collections” with my ASTU class (a reading and writing course within the first year CAP program). Our reading and analysis of Obasan–a novel that follows the journey of a Japanese-Canadian girl during World War II–in the past few weeks had led us to look at many artifacts and fonds of Joy Kogawa (Obasan’s author). This “field trip” of sorts changed our focus regarding Obasan, specifically by shifting our concentration from thematic and structural aspects of the novel to the more historical aspects of the horrific reality of Japanese Internment.

The class was split groups, with each being given specific artifacts (which were chosen for us prior to our arrival). As a lover of antiques–particularly old books–I was completely giddy with excitement. As me and my partner opened our folder to look at our items, chills ran down my body. It was as if the artifacts in front of me unlocked a perspective that I had not thought of before. Me and my partner specifically had papers containing the brainstorming and planning for Obasan, with Kogawa’s writing in pen, pencil, and typing. I felt as if by looking at these papers, my connection with both Obasan and Joy Kagawa had come to a more personal level.

Rather than reading a novel that was influenced by, and that incorporated elements of real life, I was reading something that completely came from real life. It was this thought that brought me to a state of reflection, thinking about the depth of the impact that the internment really had on Japanese Canadians. The amount of desensitization I had accepted due to social media and various entertainment outputs had been torn down in this brief moment, as I held papers that made me think that “this happened. This was real.” It was a moment that broke down the “fourth wall” (an invisible, assumed wall between audience and actor/author). I was holding papers that in the past had been in Kogawa’s hands. I was looking at what she looked at, reading what she thought, and was coming to a closer understanding of her thought process.

This experience–first and foremost–made me realize completely that reading a novel such as Obasan involved me in something bigger that “just a book.” In other words, my existence is part of a bigger picture–a bigger story. And that it is through these artifacts and other “technologies of memory,” as Marita Sturken would term, that we can see a glimpse into that story. Analyzing artifacts such as Joy Kogawa’s fonds initiates a deeper sense of human connection–one that can awaken the mind to a greater consciousness of the surrounding world.