Last Updated on September 19, 2025 by Home in the World
Still well and truly in my Japan era, I had been hunting around for any decent Japan-related books I could find. I came across Tokyo Junkie by Robert Whiting and, based on the numerous positive online reviews, decided to give it a go. The fact that it recounted the experiences of an American man who has spent some 60 years living there, effectively growing up with the city and witnessing its many iterations from the 1960s to the present day, really intrigued me.
What was Tokyo like all those years ago? How difficult was it to assimilate as a Westerner? What societal shifts did he experience in his six decades there? Read on to find out more about the book and why I recommend it.
What is Tokyo Junkie about?
Tokyo Junkie by Robert Whiting is essentially a dual coming-of-age story, with the author and city growing and evolving seemingly in parallel. Whiting arrived in the Japanese capital in the early ’60s as an unworldly 19-year-old American GI – a time when Tokyo was a noisy, polluted, rat-infested backwater in the throes of trying to transform and expand ahead of the 1964 Olympics; it was essentially a construction site.

But something about the place made Whiting want to stay. Even then, it seems it had a special allure, which many people still find to this day. The book is split into 7 sections: The Soldier, The Student, The Degenerate, The Penitent, The Professional, The Reckoning and The Rojin (meaning ‘old person’ in Japanese), tracking the various eras of Whiting’s time in the city, mostly as a professional journalist. While he does leave for varying periods (he returns to the US to live in New York for a bit, and subsequently also lives in several other far-flung corners of the world as a result of his Japanese wife’s job in the UN).
Throughout these various phases, we encounter all kinds of colourful characters, from yakuza members to celebrity wrestlers, and come to learn more about Japan’s inner workings, from its politics, to its famously rigid etiquette, to its view on gaijin (foreigners), to crushing work culture, to the shenanigans of the Foreign Correspondents Club of Japan (to which Whiting belonged), to Tokyo’s shady underworld.
As the decades go by, we also witness major events from a local perspective: the 1964 and 2021 Olympics, the prosperity bubble of the 1980s, the crash of the 1990s, the 2011 earthquake and Fukushima disaster, and the COVID-19 pandemic, to name a few. This macro level is neatly interwoven into the micro level of Whiting’s own life at the time, which adds a personal element. During the bubble era, for instance, he was able to literally see the rapid changes from his apartment window; the streets were suddenly flooded with luxury European cars, and cosy local izakayas were giving way to high-rise buildings.
Perhaps the greatest lens through which much of Tokyo’s (and Japan’s) evolution was explored in this book was through that of baseball. As an American in Japan, this sport served as a foothold for Whiting to truly start immersing himself deeper in his adopted homeland; it was by watching broadcasts and reading sports news that he was able to improve his Japanese, and he indeed ended up writing an entire book, You Gotta Have Wa, about Japanese baseball and the cultural clashes that resulted from importing American players into the Japanese league.
Whiting does spend quite a lot of time on this aspect in Tokyo Junkie too, describing, in particular detail, the popular manga and TV show called Kyojin no Hoshi he used to watch – the story of a young boy from a poor family whose disciplinarian father trains him, both physically and spiritually, to become a star pitcher. If you’re not into baseball at all (as I am not), you may find some of the baseball-related bits a little tedious, but on the whole they do serve a greater purpose of exploring cultural differences and the Japanese mindset.
What I loved about Tokyo Junkie
As someone with a huge interest in and love for Japan, I particularly enjoyed the insights into life as a Westerner there, in both the past and present day. I have only ever experienced Japan as a tourist (and then more so in Osaka than in Tokyo), but there were parts where I felt myself nodding along at some of the idiosyncrasies and uniquely Japanese aspects of life – his descriptions of the hole-in-the-wall eateries and illuminated kanji signs, the honesty of the everyday Japanese person, and Japanese society’s focus on cleanliness and order.
Once I left my wallet on the densely packed Yokosuka Line with the equivalent of a thousand dollars cash in it. A few days later it was returned to me in the mail with a note from the person who had found it, saying ‘Dear Whiting-san, please be careful of your wallet.’
But I also loved the fact that it was very much a warts-and-all account. Whiting definitely does not shy away from broaching the more difficult topics and less appealing sides of Japanese society, including its toxic work culture, its crooked politicians, its complex relationship with foreigners, its philosophy of ‘hammering the nail that sticks up’, and its ageing population. He similarly peels back the shiny veneer to offer a more sobering insight into the background of the glitzy Roppongi Hills.
Another thing I really liked was Whiting’s acknowledgement of just how much Japan changed him. He makes no bones about the fact that he arrived as an arrogant, ignorant American, which makes his evolution all the more refreshing and bildungsroman-esque.
I arrived here all those years ago in the full flush of American cockiness, a sense of superiority and entitlement that was unaffected by my total ignorance of any and all matters – cultural, historical or practical … I thought it was terribly nice of my [military] colleagues and me to be in Japan and share some of our largesse. I have had occasion since to revise that estimation.
And of course, this being an autobiographical work, I loved the general sense of personally witnessing what has possibly been the greatest urban transformation in history. I never realised just how backward Tokyo was in the 1960s; the fact that there was effluent running down roadside gutters, that 40% of Japanese had tapeworm, that house theft was rampant and narcotics use was endemic. There are also some original black-and-white photos peppered throughout book, which definitely enhanced the personal feel.


As someone who grew up at a time when Japanese brands like Nintendo, Sony and Nissan were at their peak, I was fascinated to read about the boom of the 1980s, followed by the sharp decline of the 1990s. My best friend in primary school was Japanese and her family indeed left Tokyo at that time to start a new life in Australia. Basically, by the end of the book, I felt like I had really been on a journey, which is a feeling I really value when reflecting on anything I read. I did notice a few grammatical and editorial errors throughout, which were a little annoying and distracting, but not bad enough to significantly detract from the story.
Why read Tokyo Junkie and where to buy it
If you have even the slightest interest in Japan, Tokyo, history or baseball, there is a high probability you will enjoy this book. It is an eye-opening look at life in the world’s biggest city – and its underbelly – over the course of more than half a century. It definitely deepened my understanding of Japan’s recent history and its way of life, and I learned a great many things I never knew about before. It’s also given me pause for thought and a richer basis from which to explore Japanese society on my next trip there.

Some will argue that a white male boomer is not exactly the ideal person to be learning about Japan from. And I don’t disagree. But I chose to take this book at its autobiographical face value, and, to be honest, reading through a foreigner’s lens as a foreigner is enlightening and relatable in itself. I don’t believe Whiting is professing to preach anything in particular other than to recount his personal journey amidst the backdrop of an ever-evolving city. Some of his views and experiences will overlap with those of local Japanese, others will not. That’s ok; there is room for more than one perspective. And this particular perspective definitely makes for a fascinating read!
If you’re interested in purchasing Robert Whiting’s Tokyo Junkie for yourself, you can do so here.
** This post, like everything else on this website, has been written entirely by me. No ChatGPT or any other AI tool has been used. It takes longer to create, but I value 100% human-generated content and I hope you do too! **
Before you go…
For another Japan-related book, check out my review of Abroad in Japan by Chris Broad.
If you like travel-related books, you might also be interested in my reviews of My Tiny Atlas and the Accidentally Wes Anderson publication, which are packed full of stunning imagery and interesting facts of locales dotted all over the world.
For more of my recommended reads, check out the Books section of this website.
Are you a fan of both travel and reading? Then check out my post on The Wordy Traveler’s beautiful subscription boxes. There’s even a special discount offer inside!
And if you’re looking for Japan travel content, consider downloading my free, printable one-page guide to Osaka, as well as reading these blog posts:
- What to see and do in Osaka for first-timers
- Fun things to eat in Osaka
- My recommendation on where to stay in Osaka
- A guest post by AutoReserve (the no. 1 restaurant recommendation service in Japan) on Osaka’s best sukiyaki restaurants
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I love Japan and have the highest regard for Japanese society values. It sounds like this book goes a long way to underlining this.
Great review of what sounds like a very interesting read
Yes indeed. It’s a fascinating society. You’d probably enjoy this book then!