Showing posts with label Territory of Light. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Territory of Light. Show all posts

Friday, 8 June 2018

Territory of Light - Corpuscles of Light




Corpuscles of Light brings us full circle with the chapters of Territory of Light by Tsushima Yuko translated by Geraldine Harcourt and I can only thank Penguin Books again for the monthly chapters that they've sent me, it's been a first for me to read a book over the space of a year or so. It's interesting perhaps to contemplate that in times gone by that this is the way that many novels would initially appear before the reading public, being serialized before the completed novel would be finished, it would be interesting to envisage reader's reactions nowadays to how perhaps if the latest best seller were to appear in monthly chapters until it's final edition.

Corpuscles of Light has the feel of things moving on for the narrator, the initial opening of the chapter sees the narrator contemplate the empty office space below her apartment and the potential of perspectives shifting, as well as looking forward a trip to the city provokes an episode from the past with a previous lover of the narrator, which ends on an unfulfilled note. There's a feeling of transience to this final chapter, of actuality beginning to recede to memory, after securing another flat, (which interestingly the narrator notes has the feeling of being over cast in terms of it receiving light), the narrator returns and takes in the apartment where she and the novel have occupied and begins to consign it and it's light to memory. Another important event is of her beginning a new family register - koseki, this one though with her as named head of the family, the reader imagines the raised eyebrows.

If perhaps you're new to Yuko Tsushima Territory of Light is a fantastic opening novel as an introduction to her writing and the themes that she concentrated her writing to; single motherhood and of the reverberations of how it is perceived within Japanese society, it's imbued with a poeticism that is both provoking and conveys the plight of her characters with a realism that invites fresh reassessment of their predicaments. It's reassuring to see that another of her novels Child of Fortune is forthcoming in a reissue from Penguin Classics, as well as the two stories in Of Dogs and Walls all of which are translated by Geraldine Harcourt.


Territory of Light at Penguin Classics




Monday, 30 April 2018

Territory of Light - Flames


Flames is February's chapter of Territory of Light, the novel originally appeared in Japan in monthly installments and the book is now published in full in a translation by Geraldine Harcourt and reviews are beginning to appear for the complete novel, so I've tentatively tried to keep my eyes from reading them. Repeated thanks again go to Penguin for mailing out these monthly chapters, although perhaps a month or so out of sync its been interesting to pursue the narrator through her year and following her progress as she separates from her husband and finding herself bringing up and caring for her daughter whilst holding down her job, throughout the narratives in her writing the voices of Tsushima's characters feel imbued with a certain isolation, estranged from societal norms and buffeted by it's prejudices.

At the start of Flames the narrator observes the number of funerals in the area, and in spite of the cold she has the notion that in same way she herself is responsible or that she is linked to them, it's a strange link to contemplate and perhaps goes some way again, that arises throughout the course of the book of expressing the character's fragile feelings of hyper sensitivity. These deaths seem to come close to her with the death of her former boss, Kobayashi, amidst these observations the narrator falls prey to a heavy cold, and her daughter's angry fits surface again. Another episode of this fragility is when her daughter stays overnight at her friends, the narrator awakes in the middle of the night fearfully dreaming that she had lost her in town. Throughout the book reality and dream weave themselves through the narrative, and descriptions of mother and daughter caring for each other with their respective fevers and flu, we enter into a dream of the narrator's of a scene from school, although the students are grown up, inadvertently she exposes herself whilst changing and is chastised by the others, which seems to heighten again the sense the narrator has of being outcast, the dream ends with a rather listless erotic tone.

As with many of the other chapters, their names feel enigmatic at the initial outset and it's not until the end of Flames that things become apparent with the explosion of a nearby chemical factory, with this there feels for the narrator a certain sense of closure to the deaths at it's start, and again reading the book as a whole there's a sense of premonitions and signs cropping up throughout various moments in the book, scenes are pointedly imbued with portent. Without wanting to give everything away her husband, Fujino, makes contact and it'll be interesting to read the conclusion in the last chapter.


Territory of Light at Penguin

     

Tuesday, 27 March 2018

Territory of Light - The Earth's Surface




















Publication day for Territory of Light is not too far away and it seems strange to contemplate how time has passed since starting out with the first chapter of this novel, which is translated by Geraldine Harcourt, again massive thanks go to Penguin for sharing the chapters with me, it's been very interesting to read the novel in these monthly installments and it'll be of further interest to sit down with the novel and read through as a single entirety. After a little break of not reading February's chapter - Flames arrived and before starting out on January's - The Earth's Surface I caught the opening lines of Flames describing picking her daughter up from daycare, it's strange again how just a glimpse of a line can transport you back into the character's world and dilemmas, and the picture of her world begins to take shape again, of the apartment a few floors up, the breeze in the curtains, the light escaping in, the balance of job, the separation, the daycare, the repetition perhaps of these things.

The Earth's Surface starts with the narrator alone on a random, perhaps impulsive train trip, another woman slumped against her and of sleeping on trains provokes memories of her parents and of her father's death, not knowing him, as he passed away just after she was born, dreamscapes are described of seeing him or of his presence although of never seeing his face. The narrative comes back around again to familiar things and characters, Sugiyama ceasing to call around for his Sunday visits is a source of consternation, also of her daughter developing fits and tantrums, a fact she doesn't want Fujino to discover fearing perhaps that it'll be used against her as an example of her bad parenting. This slight estrangement from her daughter begins to deepen when her daughter stays overnight with a friend and she slips into their family life with alarming ease, she learns that her daughter is calling the father of the family daddy, and one Sunday she refuses to come home at the appointed time, causing the narrator embarrassment as she has to ask if it's ok for her daughter to stay longer. 

The narrative loops back to it's opening with her taking the train trip, and she phones Sugiyama with the suggestion for him to move in with them to simultaneously solve the problem of him still living with his parents but he rather bluntly rejects the idea, perhaps wary of what he maybe getting himself into. Arriving at a seaside town she phones her daughter at her friends and describes the harbour, the glimmering of the water, a pink ship, and suggests they'll visit it together one day, envisioning her daughter on the other end of the line holding the receiver with her hands, the image freeze frames and overlaps with her vision of the sea in a resonant and poignant finish.     


Territory of Light at Penguin Classics


Tuesday, 16 January 2018

Territory of Light - The Body



The chapters of Territory of Light continues with December's being entitled The Body, which bears an ominous connotation, although as the narrator navigates around the festive period and New Years steps are being put into motion of the separation between her and her husband Fujino. The narrator has instigated official proceedings at mediation although at this first meeting Fujino fails to turn up, according to the clerks it's common for husbands to put in a no show and she finds herself leaving the meeting on her own. Eventually meeting up with Fujino in a coffee shop initial disagreements and mistrust arise again and things deteriorate again into stalemate, the relationship with Sugiyama evidently more than merely platonic, accusations abound.

Amidst the logistics of arrangements over the festive period, the relationship with her mother is put briefly under the microscope and also of her reaction to her daughter's separation. After this the narrator and her daughter visit a Chinese restaurant and at a shared table her daughter's mood swings into a temper and they leave. Throughout the book the broader sociological implications of the separation are explored and at the same time the struggles of being a single mother are portrayed, in The Body, her daughter has a toilet accident in the street that has to be dealt with, and the chapter ends rather enigmatically with a drunken man staggering into their path and collapsing, after being asked by her daughter to make him better, the pair find themselves massaging his back until he revives and staggers on. The incident feels that it's going to resurface in future chapters perhaps, while the narrator returns to another mediation session, will Fujino put in an appearance?.


Territory of Light at Penguin Classics       

Thursday, 4 January 2018

Territory of Light - Red Lights


Red Lights is November's chapter of Territory of Light by Yuko Tsushima, translated by Geraldine Harcourt and is published in April by Penguin Classics. Much like the previous chapters Red Lights feels a very self contained narrative, each of the chapters have the feeling of being a short story within themselves, although there remains small pointers to the larger story unfolding, that of the narrator in the process of separating from and divorcing her husband. Red Lights sees the appearance of another new character, Sugiyama, who for a time was privately tutored by her husband, Fujino, Sugiyama is one amongst a select few who the narrator had given a change of address card to, the relationship on the whole feels platonically innocent although they fall asleep listening to each other's heartbeats, Sugiyama also displays having a rapport with the narrator's daughter.

A repeating aspect arising in Red Lights is of the narrator's struggle balancing work/childcare and home life, often finding herself either late for work or taking her daughter to daycare, her daughter becomes to be a topic of concern when the carers thwart an attempt by her to severe a younger attendee's ear off with a pair of scissors, has her daughter's behaviour disintegrated since their separation? is it a symptom of it?, the narrator wonders. Similar also to previous chapters there is an element of dreamscapes featuring in the narrative, Red Lights opens with another, of the narrator finding herself in search of a missing person, and of being in a vehicle, the details remain vague, it's clarity out of reach, feeling both provocative and premonitory.

Throughout the chapters there has sometimes appeared small connections that exist between them, characters appearing briefly and the reader's never too certain which of these might turn out to be a permanent fixture and what the outcome of their influence might be, Kawachi from the previous chapter appears again toward the end of Red Lights, the narrator sees him with his child and wife which causes an episode of self scrutiny in her.

What is an interesting riddle to most of these chapters is their titles, with Red Lights the reader is tempted to think that the reveal or point of explanation was going to come at the beginning amidst the dreamscape, Red Lights feels like it might emerge there, although Tsushima leaves it to the final page to unlock the mystery of it's title again in a moving poetical, perhaps metaphorically way when enroute to work the narrator's train experiences hitting a female suicide and there is the stain of red berries fallen from a tree, which again is a moving allegory. The narrator becomes embroiled contemplating the suicide's motives and feelings, this desire to understand feels similar to that of her desire of searching for the missing person amongst her dream at the opening of the story, in a mirrored culmination, and the reader finishes the story in awe again at Tsushima's prose.
 

Territory of Light at Penguin Classics

      

Tuesday, 12 December 2017

Territory of Light - The Dunes




The chapter for October in Territory of Light is rather enigmatically entitled The Dunes, the book in full is appearing in April 2018 published by Penguin Classics, in a translation by Geraldine Harcourt. An aspect of the narrative that has appeared so far is one laced with a certain sense of solitude as we follow our narrator who has recently separated from her husband and finds herself facing the machinations of divorce. Another aspect that is never too distant from the narrative is of her surmounting the logistics of both parenting and of being employed, these two are a common thread throughout the chapters. The Dunes continues on with the scenario that arose in the previous chapter of her daughter throwing things onto an adjacent roof of an apartment below theirs on the fourth floor, the elderly occupants complain and a blue mesh is put up around the narrator's windows, along with this the elderly couple raise the suspicion that she herself is also guilty of throwing the items as well, which in subtly contributes to a sense of victimisation that the narrator consciously/unconsciously senses is tied to her predicament.

Perhaps The Dunes departs slightly with the sense that the character is enclosed in solitude with the appearance of Kawachi, a married man who is linked to the parent/teacher group of the daycare centre her daughter attends, this arises after a drunken night at her colleagues apartment and culminates the following morning with his early disappearance and her daughter's lateness for daycare and of her phoning in sick at work, as with the previous chapters there's a sense of seismic shifts occurring in the narrator as we observe her endeavouring to make new spaces within herself to accommodate these new perspectives, which begins to be developed further in November's chapter which is entitled Red Lights.

The Dunes displays again Tsushima's character caught between the lucidness of harsh realities and the more abstracted moments as the dials change, which is one of the central questioning perspectives of her writing, a direction change in circumstance and the pivot points of society begin to have moved by degrees. The Dunes ends in a dreamscape of children's voices heard across a sanded landscape, of distress or portentous?, we'll have to see.
    

Territory of Light at Penguin Classics

    

    




Thursday, 9 November 2017

Territory of Light - The Magic Words


September's chapter of Territory of Light is entitled The Magic Words, perhaps the briefest installment so far to the book which is published in full in April 2018. An aspect that is prominent in the chapter is of the introspectiveness of the narrator as she cross examines her feelings about finding herself a mother, this cross examination is provoked when her daughter has a bout of nocturnal crying and a period of bed wetting, reading her feelings, any mother, (and no doubt any father), who has experienced parental fatigue will associate with the narrator's thoughts and self doubts. The narrator's endurance is pushed to the limits which see's her resorting to drink in an attempt to get a full night's sleep, her feelings for her daughter spin through a whole 360 degrees, from dangerous resentment back to love again, for a moment she observes the similarities between her daughter and her husband Fujino.

Throughout the book there's been a sense of the narrator making attempts to get on top of her thoughts and feelings and rein things under control, in The Magic Words the borders between work and motherhood blur when she has to leave abruptly to return home as her daughter is unexpectedly picked up from school by Fujino, which brings an underlying struggle throughout the book to the fore, the vexed problem of custody of their daughter, something that hangs over the book that will probably remain unsolved by it's end. The Magic Words is a chapter again that stands on it's own, feeling self contained, a little piece from the previous chapter continues on into this, the goldfish from the August festival dies, which feels like a symbolic addition to some of the themes that hover in this chapter.

Although brief The Magic Words continues to keep balance between both being able to disturb and reassure, perhaps there's something of a mantra at the heart of this chapter which is the phrase 'Itaino, itaino tondeke' which is told to Japanese children at hurtful moments which roughly translates as pain, pain go away, and we wonder as the narrator tells it to her daughter the phrase carries a certain reverberation, is she saying it solely to her daughter, or herself?, or perhaps to us, the moment echoes.


Territory of Light at Penguin Classics

  
    


Monday, 18 September 2017

Territory of Light - The Sound of a Voice




The Sound of a Voice takes us into August, within a few pages it feels that the narrator is being immersed into potential schemes by her estranged husband, Fujino, into not going through with the separation, through two people, an old female acquaintance, who herself has been through a divorce and also a professor friend both trying to persuade her into not going through with the separation, but to what extent the powers of their persuasion will make maybe seen to develop in the next chapters.

Through the book's chapters so far it's apparent through the prose of the narrator's observations of her state of fragility through this point of dramatic transition in her and her daughter's life, perhaps in this chapter this is felt in the scene of them attending an August festival at their local shrine, presumably for the obon festival, this fragility is felt when they are joined by a friend of her daughter's from the day care centre she attends in playing with fireworks, the observations of her daughter's disappointed reactions as the fireworks fizzle out, and through other scenes throughout the chapters where it's felt that for the narrator life is filled and consumed with the coping of constantly spinning plates, through work and caring for her daughter, and of course the trials of the separation.

Another observation of this chapter is Tsushima's ability of building correlations within her writing, even amongst the brevity of these chapters, in economic prose she bridges deeply emotional and engaging scenes between the reader and the themes her narrators face. Although the over arching theme of the book is light, in The Sound of a Voice it feels briefly that the motif switches to being that of falling, throughout the chapter scenes of falling are perused upon, an uncertain memory from  school days is recounted, the potential of her daughter falling from the apartment window, as the narrator spies her daughter's origami papers that have been dispatched from their window and have landed on their neighbour's roof, to an actual fatal event that occurs to a boy from the daycare centre, these incidents, although separate feel they have an underlying connecting element. In addition, as seen in previous chapters there's the impression that the narrator has a sixth sense in perceiving these episodes which lends the scope of the narrative a broader, perhaps ethereal panorama.

Finishing The Sound of a Voice it feels there's been a slight digress to the ongoing central plot of the separation, but it paints a portrait of the narrator caught again in the ongoing emotional flux of her situation, voices of persuasion and of the narrator's clairvoyant sense of the flow of the undercurrents of surrounding events and the detection of nuances of societal pressures are adding to the atmosphere to the book's progress and the enigma of it's conclusion.


Territory of Light by Yuko Tsushima is published in April 2018 by Penguin Classics

   

    
    

Sunday, 27 August 2017

Territory of Light - A Dream of Birds


July's chapter of Territory of Light feels shot through with disarming vagueness and the sense that things being unformed hangs over the chapter, what with two dream sequences and a drunken scene it's none too surprising. Entitled A Dream of Birds the chapter opens with the recollections of a dream, where the narrator is being reprimanded for shoddy work in a calligraphy class, in the dream the man appears drunk and overheated, the narrator takes some relief from being able to cool him down with a dampened towel, making sure the dabbing is not too hard, not too soft, there's an erotic undercurrent to this action, which feels in a way out of place. The man represents a composite of numerous male figures that the narrator fails to ascertain any tangible connection with, this figure of the male is enough to hint at forming a multifaceted impression of male identities in general. In as much as the chapter feels slightly directionless this adds to the impression that the narrator is caught in a state of limbo of her life being up in the air and unsettled, again there are references to the social stigma of being a divorcee or that of being on the cusp of becoming one.

Another central scene of the chapter is that after ensuring her daughter is tucked in bed asleep she has to escape the confines of the apartment to find some release, going for a drink, in a nearby bar she half recognises a woman whose paths they have shared, before she knows it too many drinks are consumed and in a state she heads back to the apartment, where she is accosted by her estranged husband Fujino outraged by her behaviour, the scene is explosive and it feels that the ramifications of it may resurface later. Although in this chapter it feels things are up in the air for the narrator, in some of the chapters scenes appear sometimes non sequential within the larger unfolding story being referenced again later, the undercurrent remaining theme of women's suffrage is a unifying one, towards the end of the chapter it's seen skipping across the three generations of the story's protagonists, the narrator, her mother and her daughter, briefly arising, or envisioned through the figure of an old woman.

As were heading towards the halfway mark of the novel, each of the chapters are more or less 10 pages, in this chapter, as in the previous ones, Geraldine Harcourt's translation feels pitch perfect, the nuances and concerns in the narrator's voice are conveyed in lucid prose and the deeper concerns of the novel are held at a comparative distance for contemplative reflection, which will continue on in August's chapter - The Sound of a Voice. Repeated thanks go to Penguin for providing advanced reading chapters of this book which is published in it's entirety in 2018.    

Territory of Light at Penguin Classics
 



Thursday, 13 July 2017

Territory of Light - Sunday in the Trees




















The chapter Sunday in the Trees takes us into June as Territory of Light continues and although brief, being about ten pages the prose has such a vividness to it that in a way makes it stand out a little more prominently from the previous ones, it's events seem to slip out from the narrator's continuing story, and similar to the preceding chapters the thought arises that we're receiving a snapshot of each month, a day at a time nearly, as the book progresses we begin to wonder a little at the events occurring between these presented chapters. In a way Sunday in the Trees strongly displays the themes that Tsushima explores in her writing, namely the alienation, marginalization and loneliness of single motherhood, through prose which is pitch perfect the reader's concerns rise with her character and in a few deftly constructed sentences are movingly dashed.

The setting of most of Sunday in the Trees takes place in Bois de Boulogne, a nearby park and garden to the narrator's apartment, with high zelkova elm trees that the narrator is surprised she hadn't noticed before. Through a number of scenes we read examples familiar with single motherhood, her daughter uncooperative and unruly, a slap that resonates from mother to daughter producing corresponding memories of her receiving one from Fujino, her husband, this is not the only instance to the chapter where the past is mirrored in events occurring in the related present, after her daughter runs off in a temper a memory from school of a boy running away is recalled, through these scenes, and throughout the chapter Tsushima's prose has an economy where a word appears not to be missed in evoking a scene or provoking poignancy as is seen toward the end of the chapter. Throughout there are moments of the turbulence of the narrator coming to terms with the relentlessness of single motherhood, having to give piggyback to her daughter, taking on both mother and father roles, added to this in dealing with a tantrum in which her daughter confesses that being with her father Fujino is best.

Reading Sunday in the Trees we're reminded again that the novel has both the continuous storyline of a separation and also of being that a collection of vignettes with the theme of light occurring through their course, in this chapter whilst exploring the emotional landscape of her narrator this leads to it's powerfully illustrative conclusion. Whilst at the park the narrator spies a lone woman with a child who appears to her to be in a similar circumstance, through the narrator's imagined conversations with the woman and of her picturing their children playing together the reader is tempted into visualizing the beginning of further characters being introduced to the storyline. The narrator learns of the details of the woman's background, the child leading a kind of latchkey kid existence, residing in a six mat room while it's hinted that the woman has turned to prostitution to get by, in all a disarming portrait that further provokes consideration of the plights of single motherhood.  Towards the end the attentive reader's might begin to wonder - when the light?, and whilst on their way back from the park with her daughter carried piggyback the narrator feels a sensation of heat and light momentarily erupt behind them although turning to check they see nothing, how Tsushima links this scene with the plight of the woman seen at the park is a galvanising one, and in a sentence we return to the narrator's progress of picking up papers to file for divorce.
        

Territory of Light at Penguin Classics   



Tuesday, 6 June 2017

Territory of Light - The Water's Edge




May's chapter of Territory of Light is entitled The Water's Edge and opens with the narrator hearing the sound of water during the night, interestingly with this initial vagueness of description the reader is drawn into contemplating further detail, what is the source of this sound?, is it a dripping sound?, a tidal sea like swooshing?, the prose continues to provoke further enquiry through it's poetical suggestions. The narrator remains unnamed, and in terms of appearance and contact with the characters from the previous chapter not a lot is added to in The Water's Edge. Instead we are introduced to a new character - the narrator's superior at work, Kobayashi, a bachelor, a sense of slight detached eccentricity, the narrator describes their relationship, at this stage it feels that on his part he resembles a paternal like figure for her, she buys his sandwiches at break times, visualizing addressing questions to him for imagined  reassurance toward the end of the chapter, will he turn a potential intervening saviour later?. A call comes through from Fujino in Kobayashi's presence, and we learn that she had initiated the split with him, there's another call again later, potentially him, has he something pressing to tell her?. 

Another character making an appearance, although potentially only for this chapter is a man who has a business on the floor beneath the narrator's apartment who complains about water leaking through spoiling documents, initially there's the enigma arising surrounding the narrator hearing the water during the night that drifts dream like in out of both sleeping and waking consciousness but after investigating she can't detect any leak, how are the complaint of the water and her hearing it linked?, the prose toys with these slight enigmas of daily life that appear to resemble and have a connection to each other but then again turn to come full circle.

The Water's Edge has the quality of a vignette to it, the appearance of the water on the roof, a sense of distant metaphor, the subtle theme of light continues, the luminance shimmering off it's surface and then the blindingness of the newly replaced  waterproof coating of the roof striking the narrator and her daughter, through the prose light equally obscures and brings new developments into focus, the narrator visualizes her life beginning to continue independently from her husband, the differing paths starting to open up. The sequence of events to The Water's Edge appear to be located and unfold in one point of time, it feels like there is less referencing scenes from the past, although there is a retrospective introspection to her, slightly self recriminating at her eagerness to delve into marriage and pregnancy, the fraughtness of her relationship with Fujino bubbles again to the surface, but details of the circumstance of the separation are still held back for the time being, as with the title of the chapter there's a sense of being at the periphery of events. Although brief the chapter expands on exploring how the separation and it's circumstance provoke a transformative power for the narrator, polarities and positions are beginning to shift, to what extent and their affects may take more shape in next months chapter.   

Thanks again go to Penguin, as mentioned in the previous post I've not a read a novel in this way before and very much appreciate being involved in this innovative approach. 

Territory of Light at Penguin Classics           

Tuesday, 9 May 2017

Territory of Light by Yuko Tsushima



Hopefully for most readers it'll go without saying that Yuko Tsushima was a highly prominent figure of Japanese literature, known not only for her writing, her novels and stories were awarded many of the country's top literary prizes, including the Tanizaki, Yomiuri and Kawabata Prizes, but also she herself sat on numerous literary award panels, and of course her father was Osamu Dazai, with her passing at the beginning of last year, Territory of Light, translated by Geraldine Harcourt is a timely and welcome addition to her works available in English. Appearing as a Penguin Classic the book unfolds over the course of a year, with each chapter unfolding within a month and rather interestingly Penguin have decided to release the book in it's entirety and complete form in April 2018 offering monthly installments to selected readers. As a reader this is a first for me, I've not read a book in this progressive way before, so my posts on the book will appear each month as I receive them, so as we begin I offer great thanks to Penguin for including me on the list.

This opening chapter is April and for the moment the narrator remains nameless, describing the apartment she has recently moved into with her three year old daughter, the narrative begins to waver between past and present tenses in describing, partially, events in her separation with her husband, which appears to be at his instigation, toward the chapter's close it's revealed another woman is involved, but how permanent this relationship is remains uncertain. A deal of this first chapter is taken up with descriptive passages of the apartment, in a sense the prose carries a topographical element, the fixity of place seems to be subconsciously explored. The narrator occupies the top floor of a four storey building, we see her views, snapshots of the external world passing by, the nearby train station, the positioning of windows and what is seen through them, and of course a sense of light, and at times it's absence is prevalent. Single motherhood is a theme that concerned and preoccupied Tsushima's writing a great deal, Territory of Light appears to continue to explore the subject further, there are fledgling signs that the narrator is caught inbetween her parents, her husband and societal conventions, her husband's irresponsibility in regard to her and his daughter becoming apparent, despite this the narrator bears a defiant independence, wanting to keep his influence at a distance, she has her own job at a library for a radio station, relying on her mother to care for her daughter between the childcare. Although the sense that her husband desires continuing contact remains, for how long or whether this will be the beginning of the bone of contention of the novel will maybe begin to emerge into the next chapter.

As with the publisher's description the prose has a luminosity, descriptions of light feel as if their always only a few sentences or passages away, and in this opening chapter we begin to see shadows beginning to be cast by it's principal characters, and whilst reading you get a sense of the potential clash of interests that'll begin to open up between them, added to this the prose also carries the brittle fragility of a recovery. Another aspect is a spatial one, initially with her husband, the narrator searches for an apartment after the rather enigmatic separation, and although the proportions of these buildings is small, for the narrator they represent much larger emotional spaces, the chapter ends with the narrator envisioning a potentially larger canvas for their small space, and before closing a repeating motif also stays in the forefront of the mind - a poem from Goethe, which the narrator has to find for a request at the library, the opening lines repeated - 'Quick now, give up this idle pondering! And lets be off into the great wide world!', it feels it has the tone of a decisive mantra of protection against the vicissitudes forthcoming, but I guess that'll be further revealed for next month.       

Territory of Light at Penguin Classics