Art Gallery 8
The Japanese Edition
It has been estimated that the Target range of Doctor Who books sold more than 13
million copies between 1973 and 1994. That’s a very impressive sales figure for
what was essentially a low-cost tie-in licence for a gradually fading BBC TV
programme. Over that period, several overseas publishing houses tried to get in
on the act and bought the rights to sell the novelisations in their own countries.
We’ll cover a few of these over the coming weeks, but I want to start with the
fascinating Japanese editions.
In 1980, Hayakawa Publishing Inc. bought up five of the
Target novelisations and translated them into Japanese. Japan had initially
refused to buy any of the black and white stories, but in 1978 had broadcast
some of the colour adventures, although details of which ones are sketchy. It
would be reasonable to assume that these included some if not all of the Jon
Pertwee era given as four of the translated novelisations are Third Doctor
stories. There are no details about how well they sold, at least as far as I
could find, but given as they are among the rarest variants of the
novelisations it would be reasonably safe to assume that they flopped in the
Land of the Rising Sun.
The five books chosen were The Daleks, The Cave Monsters/
Doctor Who and the Silurians, The
Doomsday Weapon/ Colony in Space, Day
of the Daleks and Spearhead from
Space. However their titles were somewhat lost in translation. The Daleks became The Big Bloody Battle in Space-time!, complete with exclamation
mark. The Doomsday Weapon was
translated as Be Fearful of the Ultimate
Weapon!, Spearhead from Space became The Auton Army Invasion. Day of the Daleks was rechristened The Dalek Race’s Counterattack! and The Cave Monsters rather brilliantly
became known as Shuddering! The
Underground Monsters. Steven Moffat has already spoken about his desire to
give the stories shamelessly crowd-pulling names in the upcoming Season Seven.
Maybe he should ask a Japanese translator for advice.
Each of the books featured dust covers that listed the main
characters on the inside flaps. The umbrella title written in a black box was Doctor Who Series and the author’s name
was listed alongside that of the translator. But the best part about them is definitely
the covers.
This is the front cover for The Daleks/ The Big Bloody Battle in Space-time! We have what must
be Susan emerging from a red public telephone box instead of the usual blue
police box. Of course the red version is more synonymous with British culture
so it is no wonder that the unknown cover artist, probably having never seen
the TARDIS if the only stories broadcast in Japan were the early Pertwees,
resorts to the only version of a British telephone box he knows about. Beneath
Susan is a depiction of the strangest Daleks ever to trundle out of Skaro. Their
method of propulsion appears to be rolling around on a large ball. It’s no
wonder one of the poor dears has fallen over and another one is about to go as
it is attacked by a cross between Abraham Lincoln and Jack the Ripper. These
Daleks have no visible means of defence; all they have is a single R2-D2-like
radar dish protruding from the top of their vaguely Dalek-shaped bodies. One
can only assume that they were Davros’ first effort before he realised he’d
invented space hoppers by mistake. What is quite interesting is the person
hanging out of the upturned Dalek. Could this have been inspired by the
infamous Dalek mutant in the glass case from the David Whitaker retelling who
jumps up and down and bangs its fists on the glass in a tiny Kaled tantrum? Or
has Ian had an unfortunate and possibly fatal bad bounce?
Another of the poor beasties plummets from the sky on the
cover to Day of the Daleks/ The Dalek
Race’s Counterattack! Evidently the counterattack didn’t go very well...
What’s more confusing is the identity of the woman holding the smoking gun. The
televised Day of the Daleks has the
jarring and wrong moment when the
Doctor vaporises an Ogron, so perhaps Jo Grant has picked up on that
bloodthirsty character trait and has shot Mike Yates for stealing crackers and
cheese off poor Sergeant Benton. More likely it is Anat, one of the guerrillas from
the future about to shoot the Third Doctor for being too arrogant and pompous,
although she was never that glam. Good to see that in between planning raids on
Dalek factories and assassinating politicians she has found the time to arrange
her hair.
Talking of arranging hair, the third cover comes from The Doomsday Weapon/ Be Fearful of the
Ultimate Weapon! Like the mad American novelisation cover, it represents a
parallel reality version of Colony in
Space that was actually interesting. In fact its image of a girl apparently
combing her hair for the entire story suggests an activity that is infinitely
preferable to having to sit through that particular snooze-fest ever again.
(Wait a minute – it’s ranked 171st in the DWM Mighty 200. That means
I’ll have to watch it again. Noooooooo!!!!). There’s also a man in the background
playing what looks like drums whilst another man is on vocals with the world’s
longest microphone lead. Perhaps in Japan Colony
in Space was improved by turning it into a sing-along-at-home Karaoke.
Whatever it is meant to show, the cover for this story is a touch ordinary.
The Cave Monsters,
or Shuddering! as it will hereafter now
be known, at first glance also features a disappointingly generic cover. However
on closer inspection there’s a real cleverness to it. Okay, I’ve no idea who
the lady posing with a paintbrush is meant to be, but I like the idea that she
is there to demonstrate the human race memory of the Silurians hinted at in the
story. By rights she should be a gibbering wreck on the floor, reverting back
to being a cavewoman, but it gets the concept across neatly and succinctly. And
I rather like the woman’s artistic impression of a Silurian, here re-imagined
as a bed-headed Velociraptor with three eyes and a knowing smile.
The best of the covers is definitely Spearhead from Space/ The Auton Army Invasion. Jon Pertwee’s debut
story is transformed from an average runaround with one classic moment to a
haunting tale of unrequited mannequin love. Forget your Autons bursting through
the shop window and Pertwee’s tentacle gurning; this single image of a
mannequin reaching out temptingly as her hand moves to strangle you is scarier
and more memorable than anything the story actually showed. Mary Whitehouse
would have had a fit if this had been broadcast on BBC1 at teatime. The crack
in the doorway behind the plastic girl means that she has come into the room
when you weren’t looking and invaded a place of safety. Now you’ve noticed her,
she throws out her arms in a calculating attempt to lure you in, to kill you
with love. In many ways she’s as scary
as the Terror of the Autons horror doll thing.
The Autons have invaded in exactly the same way three times
already, with only The Pandorica Opens offering
anything fresh. This image indicates the power of a Silent-Hill-esque approach to the Nestenes, giving them a scare factor
that they presently lack. Making them living, thinking, manipulative mannequins
would send children scurrying for the back of the sofa. Where the plastic girl’s
other arm is waiting...
I wonder what the Japanese book-buying public made of them.
Were they a niche market for the knowledgeable, much like manga and anime are
in this country? Or were they just ignored, dismissed as strange curios from the
West? Hayakawa Publishing Inc’s decision not to make further purchases from the
Target range after the initial batch of five would lead me to suggest the
latter was true. One thing is clear though; these books are incredibly hard to
track down and much-prized for their scarcity, and represent an almost forgotten
sidebar in Doctor Who’s ongoing quest
for world domination.
