‘What I Learned from the Man Who Yelled ‘Shave Your Beard!’ at His TV’

In every issue of Pen, the Naoki Prize-winning author Satoshi Ogawa presents a new essay in his series ‘A Non-Conformist’s Guide to Surviving Society’. In this series, Ogawa reflects on the often eccentric strategies he devises to navigate life’s everyday challenges. Below is the third installment, ‘One Star out of Five’.

Not long after my literary debut, I found myself invited to appear on a television programme. For reasons that remain unclear, I was asked to speak as something of a representative of Japan’s younger generation on a particular social issue. It was my first time on TV. Curious to see how my appearance had gone over, I searched my name on Twitter the day the programme aired. The feedback was, on the whole, quite positive. Many viewers expressed agreement with what I’d said. Of course, there were others who disagreed—hardly a surprise in such settings. But one comment stood out from the rest.

Every time I appeared on screen, this particular viewer would tweet something like, ‘Shave your beard!’ or ‘Shave before you speak!’ To be fair, I do have facial hair—or rather, I don’t shave all that often, mostly out of laziness. Still, it had never occurred to me that my beard might provoke such a reaction, especially when it had nothing whatsoever to do with the content of my remarks.

Curious, I decided to take a look at this person’s profile to see what kind of posts they usually shared. When I opened the page, I was taken aback: it seemed they spent most of their days glued to the television, firing off tweets every time someone with a beard appeared on screen—‘Shave!’ or ‘You can’t do stand-up with a beard!’ and so on, endlessly.

I couldn’t quite figure out what was driving these posts. Perhaps they had witnessed some traumatic event involving a bearded man. Or maybe they were on Gillette’s payroll, secretly promoting a global shaving agenda. In any case, this was clearly the sort of individual I never would have encountered had I stuck to a quiet, anonymous life.

When you appear on television or gain even the slightest bit of public attention (thankfully, full-blown ‘Shave that beard!’ types remain rare), you inevitably start catching the eye of people far removed from your usual circles. I often feel this most keenly when reading reader reviews of my books on Amazon. Right after a title is released, the ratings are overwhelmingly positive—mostly five stars.

That’s hardly surprising: early readers are usually people who already appreciate my work. But over time, other kinds of reviews start to appear: ‘I didn’t really get it,’ or ‘A friend recommended it, but I found it boring.’ These readers may well be literature lovers, but they aren’t necessarily fans of my writing. This, of course, is true of all novels—what resonates deeply with some will inevitably leave others unmoved. Since there’s no such thing as a book that pleases everyone, I’ve come to see these mixed reviews as a healthy sign. In fact, they’re oddly reassuring: it means people outside my usual readership are reading me.

And when sales truly take off, your work begins to reach even further—to people who don’t usually buy books. Maybe even someone whose parents were murdered by a bearded man. That’s when the reviews start to sound like this: ‘Please shave before writing. One star.’ It’s at that point, perhaps, that you can begin to consider yourself a successful author.

But this isn’t just about novels. The moment your work gains visibility, you inevitably come into contact with people whose values or perspectives differ from your own. Sometimes, their words can be unexpectedly hurtful. And that’s precisely when it helps to pause and reframe the situation: maybe the absurdity of the criticism is simply a sign that a lot of people are paying attention. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that infamy is better than obscurity—but what ought to concern us most is being completely ignored. After all, criticism is a form of attention too.

To the person who kept tweeting ‘Shave that beard!’, I am—secretly—grateful. Thank you for the reminder. But no, I will not be shaving my beard.

About the author

Satoshi Ogawa was born in Chiba Prefecture in 1986. He made his literary debut in 2015 with This Side of Eutronica (Yūtoronika no Kochiragawa, Hayakawa Books). In 2018, his novel Game Kingdom (Gēmu no Ōkoku, Hayakawa Books) earned both the 38th Japan SF Grand Prize and the 31st Yamamoto Shūgorō Prize. He was awarded the 168th Naoki Prize—one of Japan’s most prestigious literary awards, recognizing exceptional popular fiction— in January 2023 for The Map and The Fist (Chizu to Ken, Shūeisha). His latest work, Your Quiz (Kimi no Kuizu), was released by Asahi Shimbun Publishing in 2024.