Showing posts with label novella. Show all posts
Showing posts with label novella. Show all posts

Thursday, 28 December 2017

Ms Ice Sandwich by Mieko Kawakami





















It seems that this year my reading has predominately been made up of a ricocheting between the chapters of Territory of Light and of the novellas being put out by Pushkin Press, this is no bad thing although next year will see me catch up with a few books from the past that I feel I need to catch up with, keeping up with new titles I've neglected on a number of translations from yesteryear. In the last of the novellas of 2017 Ms Ice Sandwich by the Akutagawa Prize winning Mieko Kawakami is translated by Louise Heal Kawai, although only 92 pages the book has a compelling and absorbing narrative, and although some titles are appearing now due forthcoming in 2018 the name Kazushige Abe is a little hard to erase from the wish list. Being so brief it's difficult to give a synopsis of the book in it's entirety without giving all away, so I'll try not to. Essentially the book is about unrequited love and in parts it's a coming of age tale. To begin with the narrative, related by a youngish high school boy?, tells of his fascination with a lady who works at a sandwich stall, another main character of the book is Tutti a female school mate who the narrator has a slightly fragmented relationship with, there's the feeling that she is more interested in him than he is with she, it's slightly difficult to ascertain due to degrees of disinterest the narrator has for anything other than Ms ice sandwich, although on an evening when he visits Tutti to watch a DVD of the movie Heat he becomes more fascinated by Tutti and her father watching the film than the movie itself.

The narrative on the whole has the sense of a slightly dysfunctional kawaii-ness about it, although this bursts in the scene when he breaks down in front of his grandmother who is weak and near death herself at this point and raw emotion prevails over pretense, the novella is endearing in a number of scenes where realizations dawn on the narrator about the absoluteness of loosing occur. Kawakami's prose bears an inventive originality to it, especially the Al Pacino moments - Tutti thinks that Al Pacino means goodbye in a foreign language, and in a number of scenes when they part Tutii and the narrator exchange Al Pacino's, as well as this there's the novel and entertaining way in which Tutti and fellow class mate Doo-wop acquire their names. Aside from his fascination/obsession with Ms ice sandwich there's things going on with the relationship he has with his mother and grandmother, and as well as convincingly portraying adolescent naivety we are given the portrait of a world seen before a number of realizations have occurred. Throughout the narrative the progress is broken with a number of digressions, one being the elusive forgotten story of the dogs with eyes which in a way syncs with a dream sequence incorporating Ms Ice Sandwich, and another the enigma of the source of her facial irregularities..Very much enjoyed this novella and translation and hope for more.


Ms Ice Sandwich at Pushkin Press

             

Thursday, 5 October 2017

Slow Boat by Hideo Furukawa




As mention of another batch of titles in Pushkin's Japanese novellas begins to appear on the horizon time remains to catch up with another of the initial books, Hideo Furukawa's Slow Boat, translated by David Boyd. In the books Linear Notes Furukawa explains that the story is essentially a remix, or a cover version of the Murakami Haruki story, there are displays of the usual Murakami motifs, the jazz track - On a Slow Boat to China by Sonny Rollins, the boku narrator, and also the inclusion of multiple narrative voices. The story has the feel of a Bildungsroman, in places it also resembles  Murakami Ryu's 69. Aside from being sent to a summer camp for wayward kids at the story's opening, a lot of the story plays out in Tokyo's Suginami Ward, and as Furukawa's narrator circumnavigates the possible peripheries of the city, (who knows where they begin and end?), and it's potential escape routes the narrative moves amongst an anonymous hotel room, descriptions of the details of furnishings and contents, Furukawa's narrative questions visual spaces alongside emotional progress and the two merge convincingly. These hotel scenes and the Sonny Rollins track gain greater clarity and poignancy in the closing scenes, the book is made up of rather than chapters but boats, Boat 1, Boat 2, etc.

Despite it's brevity the pace of the prose is pitch perfect, for a while we skip between episodes of recounting past girlfriends and additional narrative interludes, or chronicles, provided by Kaku Nohara, glimpsing into the events of lost years, 1994, Y2K giving the main narrative a broader context and perspective, the two overlap, a memorable scene of the narrator loosing it on a packed commuter train after being given an ultimatum from a departing girlfriend in pursuit of her destiny, that is one of many here, the name of his restaurant being decided after a misreading is another. At the end of the book you're left contemplating differences, Furukawa's prose here is faster paced, feels more edgier, more in your face, although remaining a homage with a lot of respect and originality.


Slow Boat at Pushkin Press 
     

Tuesday, 25 April 2017

The Transparent Labyrinth by Keiichiro Hirano






















The Transparent Labyrinth is the eighth and last title in the recently published series Keshiki - New Voices From Japan from Strangers Press, a part of the UEA Publishing Project, Norwich, the story is translated by Kerim Yasar, Hirano has been awarded many literary prizes among them the Akutagawa Prize. The Transparent Labyrinth is a thoroughly contemporary tale, set predominately in Budapest the story is narrated by Okada who has travelled to the city on business and whilst there he makes the acquaintance of Misa - a young Japanese woman whose reasons for staying on in the city seem to tie in mysteriously with a female friend of hers - Federica, Okada speculates to himself that there is the possibility that the two are lesbians, but despite this Okada and Misa are drawn to each other, a fractiously fraught relationship is kernelled. An aspect to the premise and theme of the story is reminiscent of Rupert Thomson's The Book of Revelation, and in his foreword John Freeman points to Ian McEwan's The Comfort of Strangers for likeness, although unlike Thomson's novel the difference here is that instead of a kidnapping over a prolonged period, Okada and Misa find themselves taken to a Bacchanalian orgy where they're coerced into making love in front of a selected group, this episode is brutal with it's scenes of sexual violence including male rape.

An aspect of Hirano's prose which impresses through this short piece is of his ability to paint an absorbingly detailed portrait of his protagonist as he works through the various enigmas that he finds himself in and presented with. Initially there's the disarming events of the evening of enforced sexual escapades and it's ramifications, and also of the enigma of Misa and his feelings for her, as she disappears and re-appears in and out of his life, a wider game of incomprehension seems to be playing out though just out of sight for the reader, some kind of answer occurs to the end of the story which acts to wrong foot, although in a way it remains partial. Another aspect to the story is of Okada trying to reconcile and release himself to the past events which he and Misa endeavour to grapple with, what had violated them also binds them, the psychological forces that flow beneath the story feel fractious, bifurcated, and again Hirano handles this infectiously well. Although I've picked up the last in the series first, mainly attracted by it's enigmatic title, The Transparent Labyrinth was a compelling and provocative start to what looks to be a fascinating and welcome series of stories.


The Transparent Labyrinth at Strangers Press   

Tuesday, 7 October 2014

The Guest Cat by Hiraide Takashi


A book I've found myself purposefully taking my time with, The Guest Cat was originally published by New Directions and recently again in an edition from Picador, in a translation from Eric Selland. The prose as you may expect has a poetic quality, Hiraide's poetry is also available in translation in For the Fighting Spirit of the Walnut, not only can this poeticism be felt in the prose but also in some of the imagery that it conjures up; a pair of mating birds observed by the narrator fly away as one beating heart, and with it there are a number of originally imaginative concepts, one being the house the couple live in with it's optical phenomena obfuscating the reflections in it's glass windows of it's passers-by. The Guest Cat brings together various strands and moments in transition, set in a Tokyo suburb the central narrator is an editor, who turns writer, and his wife who are renting an outbuilding and through circumstances with the family who own the main house they find themselves having to move out and find a new place to live, the book is made up with short observational chapters that at the end of the book the narrator confirms have been compiled from journal entries and essays written for various publications. An added sense of transition is felt also in the time period that the book crosses, that of the passing of the Shōwa period, and the dawning of the Heisei, the narrator notes the inflating and unaffordable price of property, marking the demise of the bubble economy, when starting out on their search for alternative accommodation, but at the centre of the book is the appearance of a cat who visits the couple.

The tone of the narrative is on the whole a deeply contemplative one, it subtly shifts emanating at times from the interior with glances to the exterior and throughout and central to it is the enigma of the cat's appearance. Through the chapters the narrator attempts to decode it's contrary nature through observation and subtle experiment, obviously metaphors can be drawn and parallelled between the mystery of the cat with that of the wider predicaments of the narrator's life, and it's unavoidable to be reminded of Wagahai wa Neko de Aru, although it obviously bears and displays more of a contemporary tone, The Guest Cat ventures into exploring the spatial quality of human relationships, and subtly shifting on to notions of mortality, similar to Soseki's novel with a central feline guest. The simplicity of the prose deftly transforms the density of some of the larger themes that before you realise it you find yourself in the midst of contemplating, some of these are conveyed in some of the observational imagery, the snapshot battle being carried out between a kamakiri and a semi, most of these set amongst the repeated appearance of the Keyaki trees in the grounds of the house, a deeply rewarding and contemplative read.  

The Guest Cat at New Directions and Picador

The New Modernism

                    

Monday, 1 September 2014

The Hunting Gun by Inoue Yasushi

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The Hunting Gun/Ryōjū was Inoue's first book, published in 1949, Inoue received the Akutagawa Prize the following year for his book, Bullfight, although brief The Hunting Gun is remarkable for it's penetrating psychological portraits of three women, whose three perspectives are conveyed in three letters that are passed to the narrator at the beginning of this epistolary novella. What might strike the reader as feeling slightly out of place is the descriptions of the Western garb and paraphernalia of hunting, the English gun and cloth, for a novella of it's time these might've carried a slight surreality and out of place-ness. After contacting the narrator after being provoked by reading a poem he had written for a hunting magazine, Misugi Josuke passes him three letters, although the narrator is suspicious that Misugi might be a man of consequence and bearing lets it be known that he has changed all the names from their true ones, so we are left to contemplate the possibility that perhaps Misugi is not even Misugi. The first of the letters is from Misugi's niece, Shoko, who relates the events of the passing of her mother, Saiko, as her letter to her uncle progresses the first clues as to what lies at the novella's centre begin to come into focus. Shoko relates that she knows of their secret through reading her mother's frenetically written diary, this sadness is depicted poetically as she likens it to resembling a petal frozen in a paperweight given to her as a gift, this is one of a number of poetical images that Inoue imbues his prose with a disarming effect, and these resonate throughout, it's also interesting to contemplate that the narrative is brought into being through the reading of a poetical work. Another enigmatic character and event that lingers slightly out of sight of the novella's main narrative is of Shoko's father, Kadota Reiichiro, and of the more distant mystery of what had happened between him and Saiko that had caused them to part, all of these ruminations of failed marriages must of challenged the sensibilities of readers of the day.

Midori's letter adds another jigsaw piece of perspective to the story, wife of Misugi, her letter is both embittered with instances of their loveless marriage, the letter, paradoxically she envisages being the only love letter between them, and also in parts being confessional, seizing the opportunity in her proposed severance with him to provide portraits of the men that have in the past have potentially stole her affections or have been the object of her desires, these are varying both in being real and being projected. She describes seeing a portrait of a naked wild man living wild with a herd of goats in the Syrian desert, the jockey Tsumura whose eye were fixated on her, and also of the artist Matsuyo, all of these offer passing snapshot portraits of desires unfulfilled and hinted at, in some ways perhaps attempts at readdressing the act of betrayal that lies at the story's centre. Along with her unburdening letter there is included another symbolic snapshot motif that links the letters, that of an embroidered haori patterned with a thistle worn by Saiko, which represents her and Misugi's relationship.

Saiko's letter is the last, posthumously she describes the burden of her and Misugi's deception whilst giving a fuller picture to scenes hinted to in the previous letters, she recalls the night of wearing the haori, and of a stay in Atami, and within the letter Inoue imbues his prose with more poetical imagery, whilst staying at Atami the pair spy a burning fishing boat out at sea, and in spite of the casualties they envisage a cruel beauty in the burning vessel, later this same image is associated with Saiko's notion of womanhood. Between the presentation of these letters Inoue passes the right of judge to the reader, across the letters in The Hunting Gun we are given a portrait of the weakness and frailties of the human heart with all it's uncontrollable desires falling victim to itself, translated again by Michael Emmerich.

The Hunting Gun at Pushkin Press

Inoue Yasushi Literary Museum                                   

Wednesday, 30 July 2014

Life Of A Counterfeiter - by Yasushi Inoue

         



Life Of A Counterfeiter is the third in Pushkin Press's recent books from Inoue Yasushi, all of which have been translated by Michael Emmerich, although Life Of A Counterfeiter has been previously translated by Leon Picon, this new edition is also accompanied by two stories new in translation, Reeds and Mr Goodall's Gloves, all of these originally appeared in Japan in the 1950's. The shifting focus of perspective in Life of A Counterfeiter is fantastically subtle, the narrator is asked by the family of renowned painter, Onuki Geigaku, to write his biography, having passed away in 1938 the project is postponed by the war's intervention. The narrator is a journalist for an Osaka paper, which puts the narrative a few degrees closer in relation to Inoue's own experiences, whilst on a research trip with Geigaku's son and heir, Takuhiko, visiting the family homes of those who had purchased Geigaku's paintings they discover a discrepancy in the family seal on some of the paintings they view, after a previous reading of Geigaku's diary and a bit of detective work the character of forger Hara Hosen begins to emerge. Once Geigaku's friend, the story shifts from Geigaku to being a side glance biography of Hosen who falls into forging many paintings, passing them off as being that by the hand of Geigaku, the story traces him from forger to amateur dabbler as a firework maker. Life Of A Counterfeiter is a finely conceived piece of distilled portraiture, imbued with a slight melancholy, which casts a glance at the twists of fate, of how one man succeeds and another falls into obscurity, albeit one of a subtle notoriety.

Reeds is a slightly more fragmentary story which subtly examines notions of memory and attachment theory, the story begins with the narrator relating the story of a kidnapped boy and of his father who is trying to locate him, although their true relationship with each other begins to slide into ambiguity when it becomes apparent the child was adopted, this fragmentary opening begins to give way to the narrator's own recollections of instances from his own childhood, one in particular of being very young laying out on a bank next to a lake, of boats moored and of remembering a man and woman being very close to each other, he later acknowledges what they were really doing, and after asking his mother as to the woman's identity the only woman she can surmise it could have been is Aunt Omitsu, who was seen as bringing shame on the family due to her lewd conduct, Mitsu ends up dying prematurely. The story bears some common motifs seen in other of Inoue's stories, of extended families, official and unofficial, a journalist working at an Osaka newspaper, and the mention of Hokuriku. An interesting additional motif to this story is that of the narrator's recollections of playing the card game of matching pairs with his Grandmother, who is not a blood relative, the narrator in a slightly disguised way observes the similarity with individual memory with that of holding a single card without another to match it with, which is the subtle metaphorical master stroke to this at times affecting story. 

Mr Goodall's Gloves shares it's central character with Reeds in Grandmother Kano, perhaps the narrator could also be the same, a journalist working for an Osaka newspaper, this time however the location of the story is set in Nagasaki. In some ways it slightly resembles the title story in structure, that in it, set slightly off stage is a renowned artist, a calligrapher - Matsumoto Jun. The narrator arrives in Nagasaki to report on the city in the aftermath of the bomb, staying at an inn the narrator comes across Matsumoto's calligraphy which unlocks memories of Grandmother Kano, a student of Matsumoto, who is at the centre of this story. Some themes that feature in the previous story can be seen by degrees again in Mr Goodall's Gloves, of the distances between official and unofficial family and being seen as an 'unofficial' family member, the feeling that Kano is living a marginalised existence can be felt. These recollections lead to the narrator wandering through the foreigner's cemeteries of the city, and of the narrator discovering the grave of a Goodall which unlocks memories of Kano relating an episode of a grand state occasion, of the obtaining of the gloves, and of a foreigner also called Goodall, the story subtly intertwines these lives and uses a subtle symbolism in the form of Goodall's gloves in representing differing themes  and instances to those who encounter them. Set against the possibility of them being the same man and amidst these speculations is the almost ethereal figure of Grandmother Kano, with her unofficial status, these stories subtle probe themes of tangible existences and the possibility of connecting lives, in a way that perhaps could be best described as portraiture within portraiture, a rewarding addition to Inoue in English, many thanks to Pushkin Press.      

Life Of A Counterfeiter at Pushkin Press



                      

Wednesday, 5 June 2013

Strange Tale of Panorama Island

 
 
 
The reviews that I've seen of Strange Tale of Panorama Island have managed to steer away from divulging plot details, as it's novella size in length it makes it difficult not to give one thing away without giving away another, then another, so perhaps this post will be kept to leaning towards the impressionistic. Strange Tale of Panorama Island is translated by Elaine Kazu Gerbert who also provides an introduction that contextualizes many aspects that the novella features and looks also at the stories that inspired Ranpo, as you'd expect Poe features largely and in particular the story The Domain of Arnheim from 1847. Although I'm uncertain when it first appeared in Japanese translation a part of me was expecting to see mentioned The Island of Doctor Moreau by H.G Wells but perhaps the only relation to these two works is in name only, The Island of Doctor Moreau deals perhaps with a philosophy and enquiry which is heading in an altogether different direction, although it could be said there is some overlap of ideas and themes, the human manipulation of the natural world, where in The Island of Doctor Moreau the initial horror is in the physical aberrations in Strange Tale of Panorama Island it tends to lean more to the psychological, that said there are moments of distilled horror here.
 
Strange Tale of Panorarma Island reads very sequentially, the book opens in describing the present state of a little known island that the locals name as Okinoshima which has been the site of a construction project somewhat resembling an entertainment park that has fallen in to a state of abandoned decay, with this description set up Ranpo begins to work his way back in telling how this has come to be. The main protagonist is the dissolute student/writer Hirosuke Hitomi who dreams that if he were to come into a fortune he would one day work on constructing his own utopia and bring it in to being and through a devious and dark deception he manages to have a fortune at his disposal as head of the very wealthy Komoda family. Hirosuke seems to have succeeded in his plan although Chiyoko, the wife of the head of the Komoda family, Genzaburo, who has recently passed away is the only person who'll maybe put his scheme into jeopardy. 
 
The plot line is a relatively simple one, as the novella comes into it's own the reader is taken on a phantasmagorical journey towards it's inevitable and horrifying culmination, the reader senses that it'll finish on a grizzly note, but the way that it does is spectacular in it's abruptness and originality. On it's way, via underwater kaleidoscopic viewing tunnels and rides aboard swans that perhaps aren't real swans the narrative threatens to displace our faith and confidence in the dimensions of the external world, Hirosuke's creation distorts natural laws of perception which could be interpreted as reflecting his own warped personality, at points throughout the narrative Ranpo describes imagery and events that might potentially provoke abnormal desires of his characters and also as he hints within the reader. The novella was originally published in 1926 and it's interesting to contemplate the plethora of reactions that it would have provoked in the readers of its day, Ranpo's narrative voice is one whose influence arches across a broad spectrum of Japanese fiction, not only of horror but also in detective fiction, all underscored with forays into penetrating psychological explorations of a darker hue, here it could be said that among other concerns portrays the notion of adoptive identities as well as exploring the meaning of the transposition of the artistic impulse into the physical world and its consequences, and operating on another level a tale of megalomania that veers onto a path far off the ordinary.
 
Elaine Kazu Gerbert's introduction is both informative as well as provoking, prompting the reader to delve further into reading more extensively from the era.
    
           
 
Strange Tale of Panorama Island at University of Hawai'i Press  
 
          

Thursday, 2 May 2013

In Pursuit of Lavender

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
Recently published from Anthem Press, a title selected by the JLPP which originally appeared in Japan in 2006 and is translated by Charles De Wolf, In Pursuit of Lavender follows two escapees from a psychiatric hospital who without any specific destination in mind embark on a road journey around Kyushu which becomes more revelatory the further they go. Their events are given to us from the perspective of Hana, whose history and condition begins to be relayed near the beginning of this ninety nine page novella, she hears a voice, a persistent male voice repeating- Twenty yards of linen are worth one coat , the meaning of this riddle and it's source remain elusive to her and thus us until its source is revealed to all later. In her past she suffered from visual hallucinations, a past suicide attempt saw her being admitted/taken to a mental hospital. The other character who joins her escape rather spontaneously is Nagoyan, a company man whose condition remains a slight mystery, perhaps work fatigue, later in the narrative he too displays suicidal tendencies, although Nagoyan is a nickname given to him when he was first admitted to the hospital as he pretended to come from Tokyo to hide his provincial background, which is a reoccurring theme running throughout the novella, the provincial against the metropolitan, Hana speaks with a Kyushu accent which Charles De Wolf has chosen to convey in his translation, but this attempt of Nagoyan to disguise his roots is a source of amusement to the other patients and bitterness and a deep resentment for him which runs until the final lines of the novella.
 
Allowed to walk to the local Lawson, they take the opportunity to escape and at first head for Nayoyan's apartment, (a 1LDK perhaps smaller rented by the company he works for), initially they scour his drugs cabinet in search of substitutes for their prescribed medicines, in an attempt to keep their side effects at bay, they visit an ATM where Nagoyan takes out a large sum of money, and then using his car they take to the road. As they travel larger portions of Hana's past is revealed, her ex boyfriend who dumps her after learning of her mental health problems, and the pair contemplate their punishment of 'private rooms', (locked rooms), if they are caught. The description of their route is detailed enough that if you wanted to you could follow the route they take via Internet mapping, through Kunisaki, the memorial museum for Yukichi Fukuzawa, passing the volcanic Mount Aso and later Sakurajima, to name but a few of the locations. There is no particular predetermined destination in mind, it becomes apparent that they are leaving their past lives behind, although near the end of the novella they begin to realize that the people they see are still living out these very lives that they feel they have escaped from, Nagoyan observes that they will no doubt at some point return to their former lives. The dimensions of their escape although large for them remains uncertain, as after they've been on the road for a while Nagoyan observes that the date of his proposed release arrives and then passes.
 
The relationship between Hana and Nagoyan remains platonic through the novel although on one occasion Hana contemplates the relationship becoming physical with Nagoyan, but on the whole Hana takes almost every opportunity to goad him about his attempts at covering his provincial background and desire to make it in Tokyo. Obviously the novel is looking at what we regard as being mental health or perhaps what constitutes mental abnormality, much of this is read in Hana's introspective reflections on her self and condition, at one point a series of voices and faces that she recognises but cannot name threaten to swap her thinking, looking back on her self  she observes - 'The delusory had a greater sense of reality, so that the real and unreal became indistinguishable'. Some of these reflections Hana mingles with the lyrics of songs by a punk band played on Nagoyan's cassette player. In another instance after an act of kleptomania Nagoyan throws an empty bottle of rum watching it smash he reflects on himself - 'I wish I could go to pieces in the same way', the overall feeling of the novella is the display that its a fine, perhaps fragile, line between the two. The purpose of the escape begins to take on a tangible purpose when Nagoyan proposes to find lavender which is known for its soothing aroma. At the beginning of the novel Hana describes her hatred of a certain drug used on patients that has diverse side effects which could be viewed as a comment on the treatment of mental health patients, which the novel is perhaps making in a broader context, although this message is not too explicit. 
 
The narrative is punctuated in a couple of incidences by slightly surreal happenings taking the novella to a temporarily different dimension, this is a thoroughly contemporary tale, which is at times is refreshingly irreverent, and provoking.        
 
   
 
In Pursuit of Lavender at Anthem Press