Juliet Winters Carpenter (1948–2026): Translator, Teacher, Friend

Juliet Winters Carpenter was born May 10, 1948. She was born in Ann Arbor, Michigan and grew up in Evanston, Illinois. She first came to Japan in junior high school on a ten-day visit; her interest in translation began in 1960. After graduating from the University of Michigan in 1969 with a B.A. in Japanese language and literature, she returned to Japan and studied intensive Japanese at the Inter-University for Japanese Language Study in Tokyo. She stayed on, working as an English teacher and assistant editor/translator. In 1972 she returned to the University of Michigan for graduate study and received her master’s degree in 1974. She completed the coursework for the doctoral degree and returned to Japan on a Japan Foundation Fellowship for dissertation research in 1975. When other opportunities came her way, she decided against completing her dissertation. 

She taught at Tezukayama University and Kobe University, and in 1986 took up a position at Doshisha Women’s College in Kyoto, where she remained until retirement. She lived in or near Kyoto from 1975 to 2019. 

Although Carpenter is best known for her translations of literary works, she explored a wide variety of genres. She worked for a year with Thomas Elliott on the staff of The Wheel Extended, a quarterly journal on modern life and transportation in Japan. She translated poetry (Salad Anniversary, by Tawara Machi, Kodansha International, 1989 and Overkill, by Misumi Mizuki, 2006). Carpenter’s translation of Abe Kōbō’s Secret Rendezvous (Knopf, 1979)—the first novel she translated—received the 1980 Japan–U.S. Friendship Commission Prize for the Translation of Japanese Literature, and in 2014 her translation of Mizumura Minae’s A True Novel received the same award. 

Among her non-fiction translations are Straitjacket Society by Miyamoto Masao (Kodansha International, 1993) and Murayama Yūzo’s Heritage Culture and Business, Kyoto Style (Japan Library, 2019). She translated Shiba Ryōtarō’s The Last Shogun (Kodansha America, 1998) as well as individual volumes of Clouds above the Hill (2012, 2013) and Ryoma! (2018), Mizumura’s An I-novel from left to right (Columbia University Press 2021), and Hirano Keiichirō’s At the End of the Matinee (Amazon Crossing, 2021). When Carpenter left Japan, it was reported that she had written three books, translated into English 38 books of fiction, 29 of non-fiction and 13 of poetry, subtitled three movies; and translated four books into Japanese.

A devoted teacher, Carpenter generously shared her passion for translation and literature with students, friends, and professionals. She frequently contributed to the events and publications of the Society of Writers, Editors, and Translators, which she joined in 1984. Articles transcribed from or summarizing her talks published in the SWET Newsletter include:

“The Chances That Start It All” (interview; 2019)

“Reflections on the Translation of Ryōma!” by Susan E. Jones (2018) 

“Translation in the “Age of English” (2016) 

“True Collaboration on A True Novel” (2014) 

“Translating from Japanese to English: Jumping Into the Pond” (2007)

“Performance and Perseverance” (1998)

Carpenter was deeply devoted to music of all kinds. She received the natori designation licensing her to teach koto and shamisen, and sang alto in the Kyoto City Philharmonic Chorus.

Following her retirement from Doshisha Women’s College, in 2019 Carpenter returned to live in the United States, settling in the family home on Whidbey Island, Washington. Her husband Bruce Carpenter, professor emeritus of Tezukayama University, died in 2024. She continued translating while enjoying time with family and life on Whidbey Island. She passed away on May 1, 2026. Her three sons, Matthew, Mark, and Graham, survive her.

 

Remembrances received from friends of Juliet Winters Carpeenter

Received from Ginny Tapley Takemori, May 2, 2026

Yesterday morning, I woke up to the terrible news that Juliet Winter Carpenter had passed away.

Julie has been a huge inspiration to me ever since I first came across her translations way back when I was studying Japanese and Japanese literature and only dreaming of becoming a literary translator myself. I can’t remember which I read first, but I’m pretty sure it was one of her translations of Abe Kōbō, my favourite of which is the collection Beyond the Curve. I started seeking out all her translations—this was in the very early days of the Internet, so not as easy as now. Her translation of Enchi Fumiko’s Masks blew my mind. Tawara Machi’s Salad Anniversary was another. She somehow managed to capture incredibly difficult concepts, linguistic conundrums, cultural differences, and make them readable.

When I later started work as an editor at Kodansha International, I wanted to publish Miyabe Miyuki’s R.P.G, which became Shadow Family. My boss Stephen Shaw asked me who I wanted to translate it, and I said, well Juliet Winters Carpenter would be my ideal, but I can’t imagine she would agree to something like this. He replied, “Make her an offer. I bet she’ll accept.” And she did! Working with her was a dream come true for me, and she was wonderful. Whenever I flagged up issues in her translation, she immediately got the point and reworked them, and when I timidly made suggestions for improvements, she graciously accepted them or came up with other ideas. She was an absolute joy to work with, a real collaborator, and I learned so much from her about both translation and editing in the process. I also commissioned her for Nonami Asa’s 凍える牙 Kogoeru kiba, which became The Hunter. Later, as a freelance editor, I collaborated with her on several other projects, most notably some non-fiction books by the Buddhist priest Takamori Kentetsu.

Her enthusiasm never waned, and this shows in all her translations. I loved the way she combined playfulness with a rigorous attention to detail. I remember reading in an essay she wrote for SWET in 2007 that she was inspired at age 16 by the phrase poka poka atataku naru to ぽかぽかと暖かくと, and wondering how on earth to capture that in English. “Just to say atataku naru to is not the same as saying poka poka atataku naru to. It’s different.” It sure is.

It was these kinds of knotty translation issues that she lived for, and she spared no effort in striving to come up with the perfect solution. Nothing was too minor to devote her attention to. She compared translation to Bashō’s seminal haiku, with the translator as the frog jumping into the pond, immersing themselves, and making a splash.

I never tired of hearing her talk about her work. She always said, for translators persistence is everything, every minor detail merits attention. Another good lesson I learned from her is that just because something in the original might seem to be a mistake, we should never assume that it is. Authors do sometimes make mistakes, but sometimes they also do things deliberately. 

Julie was also a very warm, funny person, with an infectious sense of humour, very generous, and always kind. 

I remember when I told her in 2008 that I’d got married (quietly, without a ceremony), she responded in surprise, “Oh, I always thought you were gay!” Me: “Seriously?” “Yes. I’m almost disappointed that you’re not.” Me: “Huh?” “Oops, no, not like that!” We had a good laugh.

Later, as I started to make inroads into literary translation myself, I eventually stopped editing and so we didn’t collaborate again, but we still remained friends and talked from time to time. 

She had been struggling with mobility for many years, and whenever we met up I was careful to make sure the location was accessible. I remember at the event held in Tokyo for the Granta Japan issue published in 2014, at one point all the translators were called up onto the stage, and knowing she couldn’t move fast I made sure she wouldn’t be the last on stage, a small courtesy to someone I did, and still do, consider my 大先輩.

In November 2017, when my colleagues Allison Markin Powell and Lucy North and I organized our Strong Women Soft Power Symposium #1 in Tokyo, we wanted to hold a panel featuring a translator and author who worked closely together, and Julie with Mizumura Minae were our first choice as the ultimate dream team. They both very generously embraced the idea, and the panel moderated by Lucy was the highlight of the symposium.

She was an incredibly prolific translator, who took on everything from the classics, including retranslations, to contemporary fiction, children’s books, poetry, and Buddhist non-fiction—this eclectic oeuvre attesting to her love of the very process of translation. I loved her retranslation of Dazai’s No Longer Human, which brings out a sensibility in his work that I feel was missing in other translations. Her translations of Mizumura Minae’s works leave me speechless, especially An I-Novel. Her recent translation of Murata Kiyoko’s A Woman of Pleasure was another one that stood out for me, along with Shion Miura’s The Long Passage.  She delighted in it all, and the joy she took in her work is absolutely infectious. She was a natural with language and somehow managed to make it all look so effortless, although of course it was anything but. She has been the biggest single inspiration and influence on my own work, as I strive to make my translations the best they can be. That tenaciousness with which she refused to skip over any detail, however minor, that playfulness and importance of having fun with the text, the seriousness with which she devoted herself to her work—these remain benchmarks for me to aim for. 

A few weeks ago I learned by chance that she was sick and messaged her. She responded immediately, saying that she didn’t yet have a definite diagnosis and was due to have a PET scan. At that time she was still hoping she would be able to finish her translation of Minae’s latest book. A week ago, she messaged that she was back in hospital, but was still optimistic. Then a few days ago, she messaged that she finally had a diagnosis and that it was pretty bleak. She was just sorry she wouldn’t be able to finish Minae’s book. Still, the news that she had passed came as a huge shock. So fast.

Julie, I can’t believe you have gone. Your legacy to the world of literary translation and Japanese literature in English is immense, and we are mourning the loss of our 大先輩. I just hope that you now find yourself in a limitless pond to splash around in.

 

Received from Eve Kushner, May 13, 2026

In June 2025, I did an in-depth interview with Julie about her process of translating The Great Passage. We worked closely together on this in-depth Q&A, and she was very generous in sharing her thought process and approach. 

https://www.joyokanji.com/status-updates/interview-juliet-carpenter-translating-great-passage

I first listened to The Great Passage in translation while walking my dogs, and because I write about kanji and am intimately familiar with how tricky it is to explain the Japanese language and script to readers who may not know all the essentials, I was astounded by how Juliet had handled the material. In a moment of chutzpah, I asked her if I could interview her about her thought process, and she floored me by responding almost immediately with, “Yes, absolutely!” 

A few weeks later, while I was on vacation, she FaceTimed me by accident, and though we were both thrown off, we launched into a lively chat, and I marveled at how quickly she put me at ease. She was simply that friendly and that accessible, whereas she could easily have held herself at a remove, being a famous translator with a long list of credits.

To prepare for our joint project, I then read a print version of the novel and was even more impressed by her incredible work, as I noticed things that had passed me by the first time around. I sent her six pages of interview questions, and responding to all of my inquiries didn't faze her in the least. Over the next two months, as we worked together, going back and forth over fussy-mussy details of wording and even of formatting, she proved to be tireless, patient, pleasant, industrious, detail-oriented, and incredibly easy to work with, making for a phenomenal collaboration. I felt privileged and honored that she afforded a deep glimpse into her mindset while translating The Great Passage.

I appreciated everything about her—above all her warmth. She revealed that she was suffering from terrible health problems, and she confided in me about the gory details as if we were old friends. She had a way of making me feel deeply respected, and I imagine she treated everyone that way. What a joy to have known such a great woman even a little bit.