Long’s book offers a very interesting take on Ikiru, even though it only mentions the film once, through a quotation from Richie’s book.   The book begins to have relevance to the film with its definitions of “pokkuri” and “rosui,”  which are the names of two types of death in Japanese.  As Long explains, “the character for “death” is rarely used alone in reference to individual humans, but instead appears in combination with other characters.”   Examples of this given by Long are “shinju,” which means “lovers’ suicide” and “senshi,” which means “death in war.”   The word pokkuri, as described by Long, is, “a special folk category of sudden death that encompasses the best ways to live and die.  The include not imposing a burden on others through an extended illness, not suffering, and not having to face death directly.”   This “ideal death” is compared to “rosui,” which is another ‘good’ way to die and is “the gradual decline of old age.”   Watanabe is not afforded the luxury of dying by rosui, so his only chance at having a good death is by dying in the manner of pokkuri.  If we view Ikiru this way, we can attribute new significance and meaning to Watanabe’s actions at the end of his life.  His alienation from his son, his leaving the car to cough up blood (during the “nightlife sequence’), and his lonely death in the park, all can be seen as attempts at dying a pokkuri death.  Watanabe might not want to both his son and the writer with his illness and drying alone at the park would certainly guarantee no unnecessary burden on his son (before he dies).  Also, by dying at the park, Watanabe could be trying to associate himself with the thing that gave meaning to his life and that he willed into existence, because, as I quoted before, the Japanese combine the “character for “death” […] with other characters.”
The only problem with the “pokkuri” understanding of Watanabe’s death is revealed later on by Long, “Dying without the presence of other (kodoku nashi, or “lonely death”) is considered a terrible fate.”   This interpretation adds understanding to the “wake scene,” in which the various coworkers of Watanabe try to convince themselves that he did not know about his cancer.  The coworkers do not want to believe that Watanabe would willingly experience such a terrible fate, so they try to show that he did not do it willingly.  It is very hard to understand the film in terms of both “pokkuri” and “kodoku nashi,” so maybe the best information that can be gleaned from Long’s book is that “preparation for death may mean arranging for property distribution, laying the groundwork for role inheritance, or doing activities the person has always wanted to do.”   This offers a completely different take on Watanabe’s actions than Richie, who saw him as initially searching for solace.  Through this interpretation, Watanabe’s adventure with the writer could be seen simply as a way of preparing for his death, although the film itself does not seem to suggest this.  While none of these terms may have direct application to Ikiru, they do offer an interesting point of view of the culture behind the film and potentially provide some insight into the film that no other book offers.

Anderson and Richie separate the book into two parts; the first focusing on the “background” of Japanese Film, such as the development of editing techniques, camera angles and techniques, and sound.  The latter part focuses on the “foreground,” which is made up of the directors, techniques and actors that gave Japanese Cinema its international (and national) identity.  The book first mentions Ikiru, which it calls Living  after its English translation, in the chapter on the development of atmosphere in Japanese cinema from 1949-1954 (Chapter 10) .  The authors give a brief synopsis of the film and mentions that “the Quarterly of Film, Radio, and Television […] called [Ikiru] “one of the greatest films of our time.””   Ikiru is described as an example of Kurosawa’s humanist cinema,  which is encapsulated by its mood and atmosphere.  The authors actually do criticize the film, which the other authors I read did not do, saying, “The film’s fault is perhaps that Kurosawa’s genius flows unchecked and that sometimes he carries things too far.”   This quote underlines the strategy taken by Anderson and Richie in their analysis of Kurosawa’s films (as well as the films of other Japanese directors).  Instead of delving deeply into the meaning of various shots and sequences in films, the films are analyzed more in terms of the authors’ views.  Films are listed in relation to the given topic of the chapter, but not much space is given to actually explaining, for example, what in the film creates the atmosphere.  A few interesting facts about Ikiru, learned from the book, is that Watanabe was Takashi Shimura’s only lead role in a Kurosawa film  and that the film was the first film that Kurosawa edited solely by himself.
While the book doesn’t have as much relevant information to Ikiru as other books I read, it does present some new information concerning the film in its own right, not on its aesthetic principles or themes.  The book is able to ground the film in relation to other Japanese films of its time, which no other book does, which is valuable in a complete understanding of the film beyond its importance as an Akira Kurosawa film.