BACKGROUND INFORMATION

Like the Nazis, the Japanese conducted extensive experiments for their research into
biological and chemical warfare, even before their official entry into WW II. Unit 731 was a
covert medical research branch of the imperial Japanese Army, first established in 1932,
under the leadership of Surgeon General Shiro Ishii. For many years the Japanese
government suppressed the truth of these horrific crimes. “Field tests” were also conducted,
in which planes dropped plague-infected leas over towns in eastern and central China.

In their search for effective biological weapons, the Japanese conduct experiments on
innocent human beings, committing atrocities against the civilian Manchurian population that
represent the depths of depravity.

INTRODUCTION

Internment was a traumatic and demoralizing experience for those concerned. In After
Darkness, Ibaraki particularly sympathizes with the alienation of the Japanese men who
were married to Australian women, many of whom had Australian children. He comments
that “they’d been living in Australia so long that they had little in common with many of the
other Japanese”.

After Darkness is a historical novel. It draws on real events that occurred in Japan and
Australia before and during WW II, including the formation of the infamous Unit 731 in
Japan, the bombing of Broome and the internment of the Japanese in Australian. Caught up
in these events is the young Japanese doctor Tomakazu Ibaraki. Most importantly though,
After Darkness is a story of personal growth and, in this sense, it is a bildungsroman- a novel
that charts the psychological or moral growth of the protagonist. The relationships Ibraki
forms during his exile- particularly at Loveday are critical to this metamorphosis.

For many years the Japanese government surpassed the truth of these horrific crimes. It
repeatedly denied the existence of Unit 731, and many of those who had been involved Ishii
himself, went on to have prosperous postwar careers in medicine, business and politics.

AUTHOR’S MESSAGE

What begins as an escape from his past ends as an opportunity to redeem it. Ibaraki learns
that the notions of duty that have been inculcated from boyhood are less important than
values such as empathy, forgiveness and the courage to speak out in the face of blatant
immorality.

IMAGERY/ SYMBOLISM/ H/S/C VALUES

An insight of Ibaraki’s emotional state is presented through the landscape as he travels to

Loveday by train, Ibaraki passes a river, flanked by dead trees that “haunted its edges, their
limbs stretching skywards, as if begging for forgiveness”. The image hints at the guilt that
haunts Ibaraki.

Besides the camp, he observes a row of red gums, with bark peeling from their trunks “like
blistered skin”. Again, the harshness of this description calls to mind the corrupted flesh of
the victims in Ibaraki’s past.
Ibaraki attends the Bon festival at the beach in Broome. This is a traditional Japanese
festival where people release lanterns in the water to guide the spirits of loved ones back to
where they came from. This is performed especially by people who have lost a loved in the
past year.

Ibaraki dreams of hopelessly searching for oysters on the ocean floor, which perhaps
reflects his hopeless search for Yamada’s integrity.

Arriving home, Ibaraki douses himself with cold water, attempting to cleanse his mind and
his conscience of the horrible vision of the bodies in the jar.

The day of the baseball final, Hayashi offers to cover Ibaraki’s shift at the infirmary so that he
can attend. Ibaraki believes this is a generous genuine offer and thanks him. Walking
outside, Ibaraki notices the sky is a murky colour. In this way, Piper creates a sense that
something is amiss and readers feel a sense of foreboding. Ibaraki realizes now that
Hayashi’s offer to cover his shift did not come from pure motivations- he has probably been
reporting Ibaraki’s every mover to Yamada.

The departing Japanese catch a train to Melbourne and on the way, Ibaraki notices heads of
wheat (symbolic of fertility, new life and a new beginning) swaying in a field.

It is at this point readers realize this is the almost certainly the wooden tag Sister Bernice
discovered in one of Ibaraki’s books, the one that provoked such a strong emotional
response from him as it stirred up so many memories.

Like a Malle tree, he promises he will regrow from the embers of his former self and build a
new future.

In Piper’s novel, the title alludes to Ibaraki’s guilt at his actions.

Images of light and dark abound the book. Ibaraki is constantly describing the strength and
quality the light in the environments he occupies.

Sunrise is associated with the drawing of a new day and, symbolically, a new beginning,
fresh start or a newly enlightened perspective. A rising sun also appears on the Japanese
flag and is a sign of tradition and good fortune.

While he is recovering in the infirmary, from his suicide attempt, Stan Suzuki goes outside in
the middle of a dust storm and stares at the sky foreshadowing Stan’s death.

Symbolically, wind is associated with unrest and with change. The novel builds towards its
narrative climax with an increasing sense of restlessness, and descriptions of the wind assist
in creating this mood. After an especially windy night, during which Ibaraki sleeps “fitfully”, he
arrives at the infirmary to see red dirt has blown under the door in a perfect arc. “As I
considered the dirt, I could dee it was indeed beautiful. And how, with just one ill wind,
everything could change”.

Australia is presented by writer Christine Piper as a place of paradoxical and hardship.

Australia is a beautiful place as the protagonist observes from his train window: “I glimpsed
the contours of a wide river, its surface glittering white”.

On the other hand, Piper shows Australia can be cruel and unforgiving environment. The
aforementioned river is described vividly: “Dead trees haunted its edges, their limbs
stretching skywards, as if begging for forgiveness.
At several points in the novel Piper personifies elements of the Australian landscape, giving
them human-like characteristics. When Ibaraki observes the tree line on the other side of the
camp fence: “…tall red gums stood like sentinels. Bark peeled from their trunks like blistered
skin”. The trees are described almost as though they are witnesses to the goings on within
the camp, bystanders who silently watch the internees but do not help them.

Further symbolism can be found in the fact that the actors in the play are wearing masks. It
might be said that from this point on, in Loveday Camp, Ibaraki finds himself also wearing a
mask (figuratively speaking) which hides his feelings from the other men.

Haunted by regret over things left unsaid between himself and his wife, Ibaraki dreams of
Kayoko several times in After Darkness. His first dream is of a woman with long dark hair
walking down a corridor. At the end of the hallway is the door leading to the laboratory where
Ibaraki worked. In the dream, he calls out to her not to open the door. It is clear that Ibaraki
was worried his wife would discover what he is working on.

Ibaraki in his second dream is searching for oysters on the ocean floor. He thinks he keeps
seeing the glimmer of an oyster shell before him but no matter how much he sifts and
scrapes away at the sand he cannot find anything. Metaphorically, the dream could reflect
the fact that Ibaraki keeps searching for reasons why Yamada cannot be guilty and he
repeatedly comes up empty-handed.

SUMMARY

LOVEDAY

The work reminds Ibaraki of his internship at the Tokyo hospital: “I had returned to the point
at which I’d begun”.

TOKYO

Ibraki is altruistically driven by the hope that, in research, he might be able to “make a
difference”.

The new research division calls for “certain qualities in an employee” and Kimura’s cryptic
emphasis on the need for “discretion” may have alarmed a more cynical candidate. As it is,
Ibaraki’s reticence proves he is exactly what Kimura wants.

LOVEDAY

The film screening presents Yamada targeting Stan. When the young man comes to Ibaraki
after being assaulted, his distress is obvious; he explains that it has been “a tough year”.
This is Ibaraki’s first test at Loveday. In his naivety he refuses to believe Stan, allying himself
instead with Yamada and Mori- a choice that will haunt him in the days to come.

BROOME

The racial tolerance is evident at the beautiful “toronagashi” ceremony: the releasing of
paper lanterns into the water to commemorate the spirits of the dead is watched by many of
the townspeople, both Caucasian and Asian. The lanterns signify the importance of coming
to terms with loss. As Ibaraki explains the ceremony to Bernice, he feels a particular
closeness to her.

LOVEDAY
The inter-compound baseball competition becomes the key element that unites the
community. The baseball is the glue that brings together the internees at Loveday,
symbolizing friendship and inclusion.

TOKYO

Ibaraki’s instinctive conservatism is demonstrated at his first outing with Kayoko. In defence
to the importance of the occasion, the pair have dressed with traditional formality and look “a
very proper couple”.

Ibaraki is critical- “Those girls should know better than to flaunt themselves like that”- while
Kayoko defends the girls’ prerogative to choose their attire. The army officers exhibit no such
tolerance. Their hatred of the West is clear in their verbal assault on the girls- “You want to
dress like foreign whores”- which reflects the nationalism that is emerging in Japan.

BROOME

The bob tree represents reconciliation, but Bernice is anything but reconciled with her
heightened feelings for Ibaraki.

LOVEDAY

He cannot forgive himself for his failure to help Stan and berates himself for his lack of
empathy: “I was horrified to think my insensitivity could have led to his death”.

For patriots such as Yamada, Nobu’s death is a “gift” rather than a profound loss: an
expedient sacrifice that contributes to Japan’s territorial ambitions.

BROOME

The wooden tag, taken from the corpse of the dead child before he left the laboratory, is a
reminder of the innocence that was destroyed and symbolizes Ibaraki’s ever-present guilt.

The rift that opens up between Ibaraki and Bernice leaves him anxious and preoccupied.
The doctor believes that he is responsible for the young nun’s premature departure for
Geraldton: “I became depressed at the thought that my careless behavior had driven Sister
Bernice away”. Ibaraki’s rudeness simply gives her the excuse she needs to distance herself
emotionally: “she had closed a part of herself to me”.

LOVEDAY

Stan’s reluctance to write to Isabelle reminds Ibaraki of his own failure with Kayoko.
Remembering Harada’s fierce loyalty to the woman he loved- “surely he would have fought
for her, even at the risk of shaming himself”- Ibaraki advises Stan to take the initiative. He
confesses that his lack of honesty with Kayoko is his “greatest regret”. It is a mark of
Ibaraki’s increasing willingness to become involved that he decided to share such a personal
story with Stan.

The chapter concludes with an exquisite image that foreshadows the trauma to come. The
fine red dirt that blows in from the desert makes a striking pattern on the floor of the hut,
falling like a “rust-coloured arc”. However, for Ibaraki, it is also a reminder of life’s transience;
experience has taught him that “with just one ill wind, everything could change”.

TOKYO
Piper juxtaposes Kayoko’s announcement of her pregnancy with Ibaraki’s discovery of the
true nature of the program. By the time he arrives home, Ibaraki is desperate to scrub
himself clean in the bath and away the shame that engulfs him.

Rather than rejoicing, all Ibaraki can think of are “images of blistered skin and a child’s black
fingers”. He feels unworthy of his wife’s love and doubts her ability to forgive him is she knew
the real horror masquerading as medical science.

The loss of their child and the crisis of Kayoko’s departure places further pressure on the
vulnerable Ibaraki. Typically, though, he internalizes his feelings and keeps his misery to
himself: “I suppose I thought that if I didn’t put inti words, it might not be true”. Like Kayoko,
Kimura refuses to give the young doctor a second chance. Paradoxically, although Ibaraki is
ashamed of the work he has been doing, he cannot see any merit in his dismissal. Dismissal
brings personal humiliation, as well as disgrace to his family. In despair, Ibaraki looks for an
escape.

BROOME

Piper draws a deliberate parallel between Kayoko and Bernice and, by extension, between
Ibaraki’s relationships with these two women. When the nun confronts Ibaraki about his
decision to stay in Broome, he notices that she stands in the hallway in a mirror image of
Kayoko on the day she left, both women express frustration at Ibaraki’s inability to open
himself to intimacy: “I’ve tried to understand you…But as soon as you show a part of
yourself, almost at once you hide it away”. This evasiveness is evident when Bernice
confesses her love to him. In his mind, Ibaraki trivializes the depth of her feeling, calling it “a
silly infatuation”.

LOVEDAY

Piper punctuates the narrative with evocative descriptions of the approaching dust storm that
suggest an imminent crisis. Ibaraki is bemused by the strange “opaque” sky and an
unfamiliar haze that hangs in the air.

Loveday reinforces the messages from Tokyo. Again Ibaraki finds that he has placed his
trust in the wrong men and the wrong values. Once he discovers the perfidy of Mori and
Yamada, Ibaraki questions his own judgement and blames himself for being blinded by
“misguided loyalty”.

SS City of Canterbury and Kamakura Maru 1942

Ibaraki has demonstrated that he is capable of change, and the lessons that he has learnt at
Loveday will guide his actions in the future. Like the mallee tree after a bushfire, Ibaraki
resolves that he too will “regrow from the embers” in order to build a new life for himself.

TOKYO

Returning to Tokyo, Ibraki feels completely disoriented: “The world seemed crowded during
those first shaky weeks back in Japan, when I felt for the edges of my existence”. Piper
again juxtaposes images of light and dark; while the sun blazes outside, Ibaraki keeps to the
“darkness” of his home: “it was a new kind of confinement.

The vital work Ibaraki performs as a surgeon it apposite reparation for his previous mistakes.
Nevertheless, he remains troubled. Treating the victims of the bombing raids revives
memories of Unit 731: “if I closed my eyes I saw the people I had dissected years earlier,
their bodies ravaged by disease”.
TOKYO

Rereading Bernice’s letter is a revelation. Her advice finally resonates, and Ibaraki realizes
that his “silence had been weak”, informed by fear rather than integrity. It is with some
urgency that he decides to writer his own letter to a newspaper: significantly, the very paper
on which he writes bears “the ghostly lines, the almost imperceptible groves of the past”, a
reminder of the impossibility of erasing the past completely.

Ibaraki ultimately understands that he has agency. His letter to the media is an act of
courage and defiance that resolves the conflict between conscience and the cultural values
that have stifled his and other voices for so many years.

CHARACTER ANALYSIS

TOMOKAZU IBARAKI

Silence and the emotional burden one carries when they remain closed to others is a moral
that is at the core of Piper’s stories. Instead of insisting on giving an explanation, or
apologizing, Ibaraki is greatly relieved and says noting. Silence proves to be the easy option,
though once again it does not erase the issue and instead actually exacerbated it.

Central to Ibaraki’s personal journey towards self-knowledge is the idea of moving from
darkness into light.

His situation exemplifies the dictum that “the only things necessary for the triumph of evil is
that good men do nothing”.

Hence, Ibaraki’s own long process towards enlightenment culminates in 1989 when he
makes the courageous decision to reject the injunction of silence that has been imposed on
him. Writing a public letter to the press exposes the darkness of Unit 731 to the light. Moral
doubt and secrecy are replaced by moral clarity.

Ibaraki’s story begins in Tokyo in 1934. He follows his father into medicine, but becomes
disillusioned with clinical practice.

Kimura sees his new recruit as meticulous, hardworking and having “tremendous potential”.
Yet Ibaraki becomes increasingly conflicted by his work at the Epidemic Prevention
Laboratory.

He does not tell his wife what he does or disclose his anxieties about its malevolence,
believing that it would be dishonorable to break the code of silence imposed on him.
Moreover, a part of him is ashamed to confide in Kayoko: “what is she couldn’t forgive me?”
To the consternation of his wife, he withdraws emotionally.

Ibaraki’s experiences in Tokyo have left a corrosive legacy of guilt and shame, the burden of
which bleeds into every aspect of his life. He hides behind silence and professional
detachment, refusing to allow himself the luxury of intimacy.

It is in the unlikely context of Loveday Internment Camp that Ibaraki learns real empathy.
Upon his arrival, he is predisposed to trust authority figure such as Yamada and Mori, taking
their criticism of the other internees at face value. Ibaraki’s diffident, self-effacing nature
inclines him to keep to low profile and avoid the politics in the camp, but Stan’s attempted
suicide is a turning point, Ibaraki berates himself for his inability to listen to the young man or
see his distress: “I began to tremble with regret”.
Belatedly, he realizes that his reluctance to connect on a meaningful level has comprised
him both as a doctor and as an individual: “it was all so clear to me now: somehow, I always
failed the people I cared about”.

Subsequently, Ibaraki is unable to complete a demonstration dissection for which he has

been specially chosen, and Kimura dismisses him, citing his unreliability.

It is decided that they will visit a teahouse. Ibaraki does not want to go, but instead of saying
so he remains silent and this silence is taken for agreement. Tokyo 1936.

Ibaraki is pleased of hearing about Kayoko’s pregnancy but when he thinks of the baby,
images of blistered skin and child’s black fingers fill his mind.

Ibaraki recalls feeling ‘stained’ by his association with the kind of work they were
undertaking.

Ibaraki says he is aware he may be arrested, but “I felt it was my duty” to stay in the
community and face the inevitable consequences.

Without thinking, Ibaraki veers away from the police officers escorting him to jail and runs
towards the café. He is tackled by Constable Taylor, who hisses in his ear to quit moving
and calls him a “bloody Jap”. He is momentarily unconscious and having flashes of his
former life.

Ibaraki says he doesn’t understand, that it’s not just about Stan but about “all the others. I
could’ve done something. I could’ve helped them, but I didn’t. It is clear to readers that
Ibaraki is weighed down with guilt about not only Stan but about the men, women, and
children who were victims of the monstrous “research” program he participated in back in
Japan.

Ibaraki feels a long buried memory coming to the surface, one that has always been there.
Only once, in 1959, did the past “threaten to overwhelm” him. It is when his mother noticed
an obituary for Ishii Shiro and showed it to him.

KAYOKO SASAKI

After his marriage fails, Ibaraki is plunged into “darkness”.

Kayoko’s response to the Western dress worn by the two girls at setsubun is significant and,
from Ibaraki’s more conservative perspective, unexpected. Kayoko is sympathetic to the
girls’ right to wear what they want and admits that she has also dressed in the modern style.
Moreover, she has the courage and presence of mind to challenge the officers who are
haranguing the girls. By contrast, Ibaraki is unwillingly to intervene. However, he is
impressed by Kayoko’s poise: “She was self-assured, yet sensitive to others”. The incident
highlights a fundamental difference between the couple. Kayoko has initiative and a latent
feminism, whereas Ibaraki is passive and accepting of traditional values.

Like all traditional Japanese wives, Kayoko is supportive of her husband’s career and
tolerates the demands imposed on him. When Ibaraki’s work escalates, she rationalizes his
fatigue and coldness towards her. Despite her loneliness, she is prepared to accept the long
hours Ibaraki puts in at the laboratory and the obligatory socializing after work- even his
visits to the geisha house. However she makes her own expectations clear when she
discover that she is pregnant: “I’m not angry, I know you have to do it for work…but you can’t
do it so much. Not after our baby is born. It wouldn’t be fair”.
Kayoko cries out for the doctor to stay, and Ibaraki is pained by this rejection of his comfort.
Ibaraki’s silence contributes to the destruction of his relationship.

Kayoko moves home with her mother. Before she goes, she begs Ibaraki to explain why he
distanced himself from her. She begs him “Be honest with me, please”. He begins to explain
“It’s my work- the things I’ve had to do…” but cannot go further. She leaves.

SISTER BERNICE

The story of his relationships with Sister Bernice is, again, a story of how silence impedes
human understanding.

She was encouraged to stay by the short-lived but beautiful flowering of the boab tree, which
reminded her that “God watched over me, even in places as distant as Broome”.

Ibaraki quickly realizes that, as well as her professional expertise, Bernice has a “talent for
gentle counsel, for smoothing people through talk”. Her kindness towards and empathy for
the patients make her an effective foil for Ibaraki’s more formal approach, and the doctor
comes to rely heavily on her. This tact is evident when Bernice takes over an emergency
surgery after Ibaraki freezes in distress at the memories that plague him. He tells her
gratefully “You were remarkable tonight I could not have done it without you”.

Bernice’s advice, resonating from the past, provides the incentive that Ibaraki needs to break
his silence.

The letter, and everything from that era-including the wooden tag from the boy’s neck- had
become forgotten relics until the Emperor’s death earlier this year. Reading Sister Bernice’s
letter again, Ibaraki suddenly has an epiphany and realizes what he must do. In her letter
Sister Bernice transcribes a biblical verse about silence causing one to ache, to age and to
be in pain. She prays for Ibaraki’s wellbeing “and for all that has been left unsaid”. Suddenly,
Ibaraki realizes that maintaining his “discretion” all these years has been weak- what he
needed to do was have courage, and, in courageously standing true to his values and
speaking out, he could have received forgiveness, or at least begun to forgive himself. He
reaches for a pen and paper and begins to write a letter to the editor, unburdening his soul
and informing the Japanese people of the secret their government has kept hidden all these
years. He reaches for a pen and paper and begins to write a letter to the editor, unburdening
his soul, deciding to risk the shame in order to do what he knows in his heart is the
honorable thing.

JOHNNY CHANG

Johnny despises Mori and Yamada for their self-serving conduct: “This camp’s run like a
dictatorship, not a democracy. And its guys like me who suffer”.

Johnny is a natural leader. The other Japanese Australian gravitate to him and becomes
their spokesman: “The Australians deserve a go, just like everyone else”.

Johnny’s warmth and empathy are evident when he visits Stan in hospital. Unlike Ibaraki,
Johnny manages to elicit a response from the desperately unhappy young man.

After his appeal fails, Johnny recklessly attempts to escape, but his ill-conceived endeavor
has tragic consequences. He has too much integrity not to blame himself for the part he
inadvertently plays in Stan’s death. Yet it is he who comforts Ibraki when the latter breaks
sown after the inquiry. Ironically, Ibaraki has become good friends with the man he initially
misjudged as an unreliable troublemaker; he admits to Johnny that “I will miss you…I should
have trusted you earlier”.

STAN SUZUKI

One of the consequences of Stan’s internment is that his fledging romance with a young
women called Isabelle. Due to his shyness and his prolonged absences, this relationship has
essentially been conducted at a distance, and Isabelle thinks that Stan is still in the AIF. He
wants to write to her, but is too ashamed to tell her that he is in an internment camp, afraid
that she will reject him.

Stan’s situation exemplifies the desperation that many incarcerated at Loveday feel. As a
Japanese Australian, he is despised by patriots such as Mori and Yamada. Their bullying
leads to his depression and suicide attempt. However, adversity does not make Stan bitter;
“he had a pure heart and rarely criticized other people, despite the hardships he suffered”.
The surprising number of people who attend his memorial ceremony, and speak on his
behalf, highlights the regard in which the twenty-two-year-old was held: “For someone so
quiet, Stan had many friends”.

HARADA

Harada and Ibaraki become close friends. Like Ibaraki, Harada refuses to return to Japan
when he has the opportunity: “my home is here now, with Minnie. I will stay, whatever
happens. Ibaraki’s prognosis proves correct and Harada contracts tuberculosis at Loveday.
Harada tells Ibaraki, “You’re like a brother to me, I feel like I’ve known you a lifetime”.

“Honour, duty, pride-Harada would have sacrificed all those things for the woman he loved”.

YAMADA

Johnny is the first to alert Ibaraki to Yamada’s hypocrisy: “He and Mori make the rules, but
only rules that suit them”. Eventually, Ibaraki recognizes that Mori’s deputy is a callous, self-
serving bully.

After the bombing of Broome, Yamada is jubilant and shows his contempt for his jailers:
“These Australia fools with their fat bellies and their rusty guns could soon be our prisoners,
and they’ll be begging us for mercy”. His xenophobia prompts his cowardly attack on Stan,
leading to the young man’s suicide attempt. Unscrupulous and clever, Yamada is never
called to account. He easily deflects Ibaraki’s accusations when the latter confronts him over
his mistreatment of Stan, leaving Ibaraki feeling ashamed of his failure to intervene when he
had the chance.

Yamada threatens the doctors back, saying that of something happens to Stan everyone will
think he killed himself because Ibaraki didn’t listen to his cry for help.

MORI

Mori is the corrupt mayor of Camp 14C, elected by the men to maintain order and ensure
that “all internees are treated fairly”. Mori is also an uncompromising nationalist.

MAJOR KIMURA

He can inflict unconscionable suffering on other human beings and justify it in terms of the
national interest. He is totally committed to the new order, and convinced that in a few years’
time Japan will “be ruling over Greater East Asia”.
LIEUTENANT COLONEL ISHII

He has been formidable standing among his peers and is regarded as a “pioneer of modern
science”, but he inspires fear as well as respect. He has a “reputation for picking on junior
workers and forcing them to do the worst jobs”.

Ishii does not consider himself bound by the usual standards and this underpins his ability to
rationalize the atrocities he is prepared to commit in the service of the Japanese
warmongers.

He begins by saying that thousands of Japanese soldiers serving in China in 1933 died due
to cholera, fever and frostbite. To research these afflictions, the Army Medical College
established a secret compound in Manchukuo that is disguised as a lumber mill.

THEMES

RACE AND IDENTITY

The rise of Japanese nationalism means that many in Japan abhor the insidious presence of
the West, interpreting its influence as an attack on their own, superior, values. These
sentiments are exemplified by the army officers’ vicious intolerance of the young girls
wearing Western fashions at setsubun. The girls are accused of bringing “shame” upon the
Emperor and themselves: “They’re a disgrace to our nation”. The officers are defensive
about the foreigners “who mock us from across the seas” and view the susceptibility of the
younger generation to outside influences as pernicious.

Although Johnny’s mother is Japanese, he is an Australian citizen and considers himself

“Australian born and bred”. Stan has lived in Australia since he was six months. However,
the Japanese entry into the war has redefined these men, and other like them, as “the
enemy”. This troubled dichotomy is powerfully represented by the image of Stan in hospital:
“A rectangle of light from a window fell diagonally across him, illuminating part of his torso
and jaw as if he were a statue hewn from two different stones”. The injustice of their
incarceration is an affront to their sense of self, and the void they now find themselves in
marks them as pariahs with both the Japanese internees and the broader Australian
community: “We’re outcasts in here. Can’t you see that?”

The bureaucratic no-man’s-land in which the Japanese Australian are caught highlights the
unfairness of their predicament. Paradoxically, their appeal fails precisely because they are
Australian-born and “not aliens”.

Through characters such as Johnny Chang and Stan Suzuki, Piper highlights the
devastating unfairness of a government locking up its own people.

After Darkness illuminates the divisions that develop within individuals when their loyalties
and values are pulled in different directions.

Ibaraki initially sees Johnny Chang and the Australian-born internees as agitators, but this
view gradually changes as he sees the camp executive has been discriminating against
them by assigning them menial and dirty jobs, socially excluding them, and calling them
haafu (p.19). Ibaraki’s conscience knows that something does not sit right, and he slowly
distances himself from Yamada as a result of this growing unease.

DUTY
Most of the characters in After Darkness are motivated by a sense of duty. Beliefs and
misconceptions about what this entails provide the moral tension at the heart of the novel.

Ibaraki has grown up with the weight of family expectations and his duty seems clear. There
is a family tradition of medicine and, as the eldest son, he is expected to follow in the
footsteps of his father, “My younger brother might have been allowed to explore other
careers, but never me”.

Ibaraki is focused on successful career trajectory and is completely unprepared for the
demands that his work will make on his life. The new militarized Japan demands
unquestioning loyalty. The Unit 731 research program subjects the bright young men to
rigorous coercion. When the focus of the program changes from growing bacteria to
“specimen analysis”. Kimura insists that all sign a confidentiality contract; “…but the new
responsibilities may place certain, shall we say, strains on some of you”. Kimura manipulates
those who work for him with constant appeals to honor and duty that are designed primarily
to protect the unit, but also to diffuse any moral scruples his staff may feel.

Kimura’s appeals to the national interest play effectively on the inexperienced Ibaraki. He is
made particularly susceptible by the fact that his younger brother Nobuhiro is intending to
join the army. Ibaraki decides that “My discretion would be for his sake”.

The thought of questioning his superiors or refusing a directive-even one ostensibly outside
work hours, such as visiting the geisha house- is unthinkable.

During his time at the laboratory, Ibaraki faces a conflict between his conscience and eth
sense of duty that has been underlined all of his life. After Kayoko leaves him, he thinks
bitterly, “she didn’t understand the sacrifices I had made to serve our nation- to help ordinary
people such as her”.

For the Japanese, the concept of performing one’s duty to the best of one’s ability. Failure to
do so brings loss of honor and shame on oneself and one’s family; it is “a matter of pride”.
This is the dilemma that Ibaraki faces, one that makes him a victim as well as complicit in the
evil being perpetrated.

Ibaraki finally realizes that the greater betrayal has been a betrayal of self and that his true
duty is not to maintain silence, but to speak out against evil. This informs his decision, more
than fifty years later, to write to the press, publicly revealing what he knows of Unit 731.

After Darkness demonstrates the ethical conflicts presented by wartime, when the first duty
is to country.

The Australian authorities recognize that they have a duty of care to all internees who are,
after all, civilians. The court of inquiry convened after Stan’s death finds Private Davies has
transgressed his duty, having “failed to issue the appropriate warning, failed to notify the
other guards and used excessive force to dater Stan”.

CHOICES

When he is finally threatened with dismissal, Ibaraki pleads to retain his position at the
laboratory despite the ethical conflict it presents. His sense of self is so invested in his
career that he truly believes that without it he has nothing.

By contrast, Ibaraki’s self-imposed exile to Broome is a more proactive decision. To an

extent, the move represents an escape after the failure of his marriage and the “stain” of his
dismissal. At the same time, it is also an opportunity for Ibaraki to reinvent himself by
returning to clinical practice and becoming the kind of doctor he originally imagined he would
be.

Ibaraki resists returning to Japan. He ignore the warnings that war with Japan is imminent,
refusing to leave with President Kanemori and the other Japanese when he has the chance.
Ibaraki tells the bewildered Bernice that this was a deliberate decision: “I felt it was my duty
as a doctor and a member of his community to stay and face the inevitable consequences”.

Bernice’s unspoken feelings for the doctor simmer just beneath the surface of propriety, and
Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor brings the tension between them to the surface. Distressed,
Bernice visits Ibaraki at night and confesses that “I really did think of giving it up, of throwing
it all away because of you”. In the end, Bernice’s choice is made easier by Ibaraki’s inability
to reciprocate.

Kayoko denies him a voice and the opportunity to unburden himself. These characters hurt
those who care for them because they hide behind silence.

In hindsight, Ibaraki understands that many of his choices have been driven by fear, and he
berates himself for his inability to prioritize. He has chosen to be guided by spurious notions
of duty and honor, over conscience or love, and his personal relationships have suffered as
a result.

LOSS

The internees are now marked men, easily identified when outside the camp by the maroon
uniforms they are all required to wear, giving Ibaraki the “feeling of being a carbon copy”.
They have been isolated from their wives and children; many are also isolated by language.

Depression is commonplace and, to the dismay of the authorities, the suicide rate is high.

Despair is more prevalent after the prisoner exchange is facilitated and some of the men are
allowed to return to Japan. There is “prolonged distress” among those who have been
chosen and these internees are unable to rouse themselves out of their melancholy and
inertia.

Ibaraki’s own losses are great. His younger brother Nobuhiro is killed in action. Yamada’s
mechanical response reading Nobuhiro’s sacrifice does nothing to alleviate Ibaraki’s distress
and, for the first time, the doctor questions the vainglorious ethos behind Yamada’s
platitudes: “My only brother was dead”. It would never be anything other than a loss to me”.

Ibaraki’s wife Kayoko becomes another war casualty. Her death during the American
bombing of Tokyo destroys any faint possibility of their having a life together.

Through Ibaraki, the text also explore the idea of displacement. When the young doctor
loses his job and his marriage, he also loses his sense of belonging. No longer anchored by
the certainty of a promising career or Kayoko’s love, Ibaraki feels adrift, unsure of his place
in the world.

Six years after the event, Kayoko still mourns the loss of her baby to such a degree that she
is unable to reconnect with her husband. By contrast, Ibaraki finally develops the resilience
necessary to build a productive future. He takes his inspiration from the hardy mallee tree
and although the return to Japan is not of his choosing, he is determined to emerge from the
detritus or ashes of his former life: “I would make myself anew. I promised I would never look
back”.
GUILT AND ATONEMENT

Ibaraki’s disquiet turns to shame when he realizes the true nature of the work. He is terrified
that Kayoko will not be able to forgive him is she discovers the truth: “it was better to remain
silent and never mention it to our families”. All of the men and women working in the
program are burdened with this secret.

By Ibaraki’s own admission, the past remains a wound that is impossible to cauterize, and it
takes him a long time to leave behind the memories of Unit 731. In Broome, the past is
always present, “like a shroud across the surface, the edges drawn tight”, affecting his work
and his relationships.

Ibaraki lives in a permanent state of regret for the mistakes he has made. At loveday, he
misreads the camp dynamic and naively allies himself with Yamada and Mori, simply
because they are authority figure in the camp who befriend hum. Belatedly, Ibaraki realizes
that they are “not good men”. Stan’s death brings his guilt to the surface. Ibaraki’s remorse
is such that the two issues- his failure to advocate for Stan and eth work he performed as a
research scientist- become blurred in his mind. After his appearance at the inquiry into
Stan’s death, he weeps uncontrollably: “I could have done something. I could’ve helped
them, but I didn’t”.

Johnny also blames himself, recognizing that his escape attempt gave the trigger-happy
Davies the excuse to shoot Stan: “it should’ve been me, Doc. It should have been me”.

Ibaraki’s life of service as a doctor is a practical way of atoning for his involvement with Unit
7431. This includes his inability to confess his remorse, or relive himself of his burden, to any
living soul. Bernice’s caution, quoting from the Book of Psalms- “When I kept silence, my
bones waxed old through my roaring all the day long” echoes down through the years. The
nun knows that silence is damaging, and the repression of a troubled conscience especially
so.

After Darkness shows collective shame for the atrocities committed during WW II can only
be exonerated if individuals like Ibaraki come forward. Ishii Shiro’s peaceful death in 1959,
after which he is commended as a “gifted medical pioneer”, rather than denounced as a war
criminal, underscores the dangers of rewriting history.

By exposing the truth, he not only redeems himself, but contributes to a process that
demands accountability for an ignominious chapter in Japan’s past.

Ibaraki’s conscience struggles not only with Yamada’s duplicity, but also with feeling
personally responsible for Stan’s suicide attempt. Underlying this is Ibaraki’s long simmering
guilt over his involvement in the deaths of innocent people subjected to experiments for
Epidemic Prevention Laboratory’s research in Japan.

EXTRA EXPLANATION

CRUELTY

In Japan, the dream to rule the Pacific leads to the development of a biological weapons
program, carried out by the Unit 731. Winning the war is so important to the Japanese that
they are willing to inflict unspeakable torment and degradation on the colonized
Manchurians. Adults and children are injected with deadly viruses, such as bubonic plague,
in order to test their efficacy a biological weapons. The scientists learn how to speed up the
process, so that the victims die more quickly: “Most plague victims would not exhibit such as
symptoms until the fourth of fifth day”.
Not only does this terminology dehumanize them, it is also a convenient way to obfuscate
the truth. Major Kimura insists on his staff signing confidentiality agreements: “Our entire unit
relies on secrecy”. He present the program to the hapless Ibaraki as a noble endeavor: “In a
few years’ time, we’ll be ruling over Greater East Asia, and our suffering will be rewarded”.

We can also distort priorities and undermine essential values. Under the guise of patriotism,
men are manipulated into compromising their beliefs and behaving in ways that they would
find unacceptable in peacetime, men are manipulated into comprising their beliefs and
behaving in ways that they would find unacceptable in peacetime: “a soldier of the
Fatherland fights for His Majesty- regardless of his family, regardless of his personal views”.

When the internees board the SS City of Canterbury for the prisoner exchange, they are
faced with a hostile crowd, out for blood: “You should kill them…shoot the bustards!” The
Japanese Australian become outcast in their own country, their Japanese heritage now an
insurmountable barrier to the acceptance they previously look for granted.

The new guard at Loveday, Private Davies, has just returned from active service in New
Guinea. His indiscriminate hatred for the Japanese means that he needs little excuse to
respond aggressively: “Watch your mouth, you filthy Jap”. His readiness to shoot first and
ask questions later results in the death of a blameless man.

After Darkness demonstrates that war allows, and even encourages, xenophobia, injustice
and cruelty. Those who are determined to prevail at any cost inflict appalling suffering on
fellow humans, and in the process lose their own humanity.

EMPATHY

Throughout the text, Piper emphasizes the importance of empathy. This is particularly
evident at Loveday. Ibaraki’s friendship with Johnny Chang and Stan Suzuki teaches him
about human connection and communication. After Nobu’s death, Ibaraki finds himself being
offered condolences by Johnny and Officer McCubbin, both of whom respond with genuine
empathy. These men understand the personal loss, having experienced it themselves: “I’m
so sorry. I know how you feel”.

The power of empathy is further explored as officer McCubbin displays kindness and
compassion for Ibaraki when they receive word that Ibaraki’s brother Nobuhiro has been
killed at war. Delivering the news, McCubbin removes his hat and is genuinely concerned for
Ibaraki, asking, “Will you…will you be alright”? McCubbin’s treatment of Ibaraki appears
especially compassionate when contrasted with Yamada, who reacts to the news by
encouraging Ibaraki “not to think of his death as a loss but as a gift”. Upon the realization of
Yamada’s misguided, Ibaraki illustrates that the patriots such as Yamada looked at Nobu’s
death as a “gift” rather than a profound loss: an expedient sacrifice that contributes to
Japan’s territorial ambitions.

Baseball acts as a metaphor for inclusion. The organization of the inter- compound
competition develops a sense of unity among the internees, changing the atmosphere at the
camp by lifting morale and cementing friendships. Johnny tells Ibaraki that his team consists
of “all camp rejects”. In other words, no-one who wants to play is excluded.

Similarly, the authorities at Loveday recognize their responsibility towards the internees in
their care and are mindful of the men’s emotional vulnerability. After the prisoner exchange
is announced, Dr Ashton, the camp hospital doctor, draws Ibaraki aside to inquire about the
welfare for those who have not been chosen: “Do me a favor and keep an eye on them,
would you?...More suicide attempts are the last thing we need”.
Bizarrely, even in the nightmarish confines of Unit 731, there is evidence of compassion.
Faced with the task of moving the bodies into storage, the young nurse recoils from touching
the body of a small boy, about two years old: “I can’t”, the nurse whispered. Her eyes filled
with tears”. Indeed, no-one wants to touch the child- “everyone stopped” and it is left to
Ibaraki to carry him gently as he can into the facility. Unlike Ishii or Kimura, Ibaraki cannot
view these victims as “logs” or “specimens”. Ibaraki cannot complete the task precisely
because he is linked to the infant by their common humanity.

After Darkness shows the connections that join human beings are stringer than the divisions
created by war. Indeed, shared trauma can be a bonding experience, transcending all other
considerations.

When Ibaraki is travelling by ship back to Japan, he is surprised to learn that the Australian
government have a funeral with full naval honors to the four Japanese officers who died in
attack on Sydney Harbour. “When I later learned that the Australian authorities had given the
Japanese officers a funeral with full naval honours, I was shocked. They seemed to treat
their enemies with more respect than their own people”.

SIGNIFICANCE OF WOMEN

Ibaraki finds it hard to express his true feelings to those around him or empathize with how
they are feeling. This inability to connect leads to miscommunications and a dangerous
passivity, which damages both his personal and professional relationships.

Lacking confidence in speaking English, he prefers to work “unencumbered” by unnecessary

conversation with Sister Bernice.

Equally, Ibaraki avoids interacting with his patients: “the way you didn’t to them in hospital.
Letting the nun do all the talking they thought you acted all high and mighty”.

Although he is devoted to his wife, his marriage implodes because he is not able to show his
love. After her miscarriage, Kayoko tells him, “all last year you were cold to me… I tried to
get through to you, but you ignored me”.

Ibaraki’s relationship with Sister Bernice suffers for the same reason: “whenever I felt we
were growing closer, you seemed to step away…I wish you had shared a little more of
yourself”.

When Bernice declares her love to Ibaraki, he is wooden and distant: “I sensed she was
waiting for me to speak, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words”.

He doesn’t report the bullying of Stan: “I didn’t think it was my place I’m only a doctor- I try to
stay away from camp disputes”.

With hindsight, Ibaraki accepts that his priorities were misplaced; his focus was on protecting
his career, rather than his marriage.

He regrets his treatment of Bernice: “I wished I had been more considerate of her feelings”.

Observing the way in which Johnny interacts with Stan, he realizes that he “had been wrong
to leave the kindness of the human touch to Sister Bernice and others”.

Ibaraki’s failure all come back to his inability to emphasize and connect meaningfully with
other people. By his own admission, this weakness compromises him as a doctor; initially,
he is more interested in keeping his patients at a distance than offering them comfort or
concerning himself with how they feel. The personal relationships that are most important to
him flounder, and Kayoko and Sister Bernice both accuse him of avoiding intimacy.
However, Ibaraki comes to understand- before it is too late- that the capacity to relate to and
engage with others is essentially “the very quality that makes us human”.

When Ibaraki first visits the Sasakis, he wonders is he will meet Kayoko that day, or if her
parents want to “vet” him before introducing him to their daughter.

Married women are financially dependent on their husband and Ibaraki sees his role in
paternalistic terms: “I vowed to protect her as long as I was alive.” Kayoko’s own role- in
spite of her education- is confined to the domestic sphere.

The geishas exemplify the subservient position of women in traditional Japanese culture.
Their sole purpose is to entertain the men which visit them. Wives are expected to tolerate
their husband’s visits to the geisha houses as a privilege to which men are entitled. Kayoko
tells Ibaraki “I’m not angry, I know you have to do it for work”.

Kayoko’s sense of betrayal after the miscarriage is so acute that she will not listen to
Ibaraki’s pleas: “it’s too late. I’ve made up my mid”. Her intransigence is one of the reasons
why Ibaraki goes to- and stays in –Broome: “Kayoko’s silence hung over me,
unacknowledged yet ever present.” Subsequently, she resists his attempts to rekindle their
relationship and Ibaraki has little choice but to accept her decision with resignation.

It is no accident that, more than once, he finds himself being reminded of his wife when in
Bernice’s company.

When she leaves Broome, Ibaraki mourns her absence: “Without her, my world shrunk”.

Similarly, even after many years, “seeing a particular sort of a dark-haired Occidental woman
in Tokyo reminds Ibaraki of Bernice.

Pieper presents two notable, multidimensional female characters, both of whom play a
central role in Ibaraki’s life. Kayoko and Bernice teach Ibaraki valuable life lessons: how to
be brave, how to be more empathetic, and how to communicate what needs to be said.