Steph Opitz is the books reviewer for Marie Claire magazine. She also works with the Association of Writers and Writing Programs (AWP), Kirkus Reviews, the Brooklyn Book Festival, and the Twin Cities Book Festival.

by Banana Yoshimoto, translated from the Japanese by Asa Yoneda (Japan, Counterpoint Press)

Chad糖心传媒檚 Uneducated and Unscientific Percentage Chance of Making the Shortlist: 37%

Chad糖心传媒檚 Uneducated and Unscientific Percentage Chance of Winning the BTBA: 3%

Who doesn糖心传媒檛 love a good ghost story? Well, me. I get scared easily. But, in Banana Yoshimoto糖心传媒檚 Moshi Moshi there糖心传媒檚 a palatable haunting for even the biggest scardy-cats.

In her latest novel, Yoshimoto tells of a mother and daughter (Yoshie) coping with the sudden death of their patriarch. We learn in the beginning that, wildly out of character (isn糖心传媒檛 it always?!), the father was having an affair and that his death seems to have been a murder-suicide with the mistress. What follows is more unexpected. The novel isn糖心传媒檛 actually about all that. It糖心传媒檚 really about a starting over, or of finding oneself, or, maybe, both.

Yoshie moves to a trendy neighborhood of Tokyo to get out of her family home, but she can糖心传媒檛 seem to shake the details of her father糖心传媒檚 death. Her mother soon follows and moves in, abandoning what she feels was a haunted house. Living together in this new arrangement allows the two to look at each other in a new light.

Not a lot of action happens in this book, despite the premise, and that糖心传媒檚 it糖心传媒檚 magic. It doesn糖心传媒檛 rely on the gimmicks of the mysterious death like it could, but rather focuses on character development and the slow grace of someone coming out of grief and of age.

This book came out in Japan in 2010 after being serialized in the Mainichi Shimbun, Japan糖心传媒檚 oldest newspaper. Yoshimoto is a national treasure and now that Americans are able to enjoy this book it won糖心传媒檛 just be big in Japan.

This is the first sentence of Banana Yoshimoto糖心传媒檚 latest novel to be translated into English, The Lake. I vaguely recall learning or reading somewhere some sort of creative writing related piece of wisdom糖心传媒攐r maybe it糖心传媒檚 just some advice, or simply someone糖心传媒檚 particular philosophy. It might not even be very good advice, or a generally accepted piece of thought. It could be the most common idea in all fiction writing. I糖心传媒檓 not sure. It糖心传媒檚 just something I sort of remember coming across. (And now that I糖心传媒檝e demonstrated my impeccable credentials for book reviewing, let糖心传媒檚 continue).

Anyway, the nugget of wisdom was that the first sentence of a novel should sum up the essence of the work to follow, to lay it all out on the table. It might not be obvious as to how that sentence relates to the following work, and of course the reader will probably forget it on the journey, but the first sentence, as important as it is, should tie the whole piece together in some way. And Yoshimoto does just that.

Although the one line summary on the back cover would summarize it a little differently (more on that later), The Lake is about Chihiro, an up-and-coming mural painter who was born out of wedlock, but by loving if unusual parents: her mother was a bar owner and her father a patron, and although they were in love and had a child together, they never actually got married. Her family life was happy, if not normal, but it was that abnormality that marked Chihiro as different her whole young adult life:

All my life, I cherished the possibility of escape. I worried that if I started going out with a guy and somehow botched things up and fell seriously in love, if we ended up having a splendid wedding in some hotel in town糖心传媒攐r even worse, if I happened to get pregnant!糖心传媒攚ell, that would be the end of everything. So while my classmates thrilled over their puppy loves and fantasized about getting married, I held myself back. Before I did anything, I considered the possible consequences. And as soon as I graduated from high school, on the pretext of attending an art school in Tokyo, I made my getaway. I left home.

My body knew. It sensed the discrimination, subtle but real, all around me.

vq. Sure, she糖心传媒檚 the daughter of a prominent local figure, but c糖心传媒檓on糖心传媒攈e knocked up the 糖心传媒淢ama-san糖心传媒� of a bar, right? That糖心传媒檚 the kind of girl she is. The feeling oppressed me, squeezing all the more tightly because I knew it was only in this city, nowhere else, that my dad mattered.

vq. When I came to Tokyo and became an ordinary art school student, just like everyone else, I felt so free and light I thought I糖心传媒檇 float up in the air.

After college, Chihiro糖心传媒檚 mother becomes sick, and eventually dies. Sometime after that, she meets Nakajima. The two are remarkably alike, though it takes them weeks of smiling at each other across their windows to find out: they are both in their late twenties, neighbors, and they both have tragically lost their mother. They fall in love slowly, almost accidentally, because they are both, in their different ways, damaged from their respective traumas. The rest of The Lake follows Chihiro and Nakajima糖心传媒檚 unusual relationship and life together, while Chihiro slowly starts to piece together the details of Nakajima糖心传媒檚 particularly troubled past, and why it is so important, and painful, for Nakajima to visit some old friends at his old family lake house.

The details of Nakajima糖心传媒檚 past are unveiled towards the very end of the book, but if you really need to know right away, you can unfortunately find it in the Amazon product description. Avoid reading that, if possible. It糖心传媒檚 unfortunate, because the book is a wonderfully sweet tale about love in spite of a history of sorrow, about being on the cusp of adulthood and trying to find one糖心传媒檚 future, although the mystery, if you can avoid the spoiler, is a pleasant, and poignant, surprise.

I糖心传媒檓 willing to defend the choice, because although the reveal of Nakajima糖心传媒檚 past would have been slightly more enjoyable with that element of surprise, that mystery is not really what the book is about, and it certainly doesn糖心传媒檛 ruin the pleasures of reading this novel. Yoshimoto糖心传媒檚 strength as a writer lies in her clear, unadorned prose; it is simple but effective, even elegant, brought into life in English by translator Michael Emmerich, who proves once again that he is one of, if not the, best Japanese translators working today. Chihiro is a lively, engaging narrator, likeable but not perfect糖心传媒攁 genuine human being. Her humor and her sadness are palpable, and it糖心传媒檚 a joy to watch her try to figure out her life. The Lake is a short, engaging novel, the kind where you want more to read not because it糖心传媒檚 underdeveloped (though part of me wish there was more), but because it is so enjoyable to read. It糖心传媒檚 not a particularly action-filled book, and there was a minor plot line that ends up fading away without resolution. I nonetheless found the novel engrossing throughout.

Banana Yoshimoto is one of the most translated contemporary Japanese authors, ever since her runaway bestseller Kitchen in the early 1990s, but it糖心传媒檚 a testament to her skills as a writer that she糖心传媒檚 been able to keep being published in English for almost twenty years now. The Lake is simply another example of her ability to write powerful, engaging, and accessible fiction.

This is Will’s second review in a row, so I’m not sure how much of an introduction he really needs . . . He’s a graduate of the University of Rochester, where he majored in Japanese and received a certificate in literary translation. I believe he’s also looking for a job in publishing . . .

Banana Yoshimoto is maybe the most popular female Japanese author whose works have been translated into English. She’s the author of seven books of essays and twelve novels, eight of which have been translated into English, including Kitchen and Goodbye Tsugumi. Michael Emmerich—who, as Will points out, is one of the great Japanese translators of our time—has translated most of these.

It’s been a while since we last reviewed a Melville House book, so this is a great time to point out that they do a ton of great stuff, both in translation and originally written in English, and their Melville International Crime series seems very cool, as does the Neversink Library collection. Also personally very thrilled to see all the Heinrich Boll reprints, although to be honest, I haven’t read any of these because I can’t decide which to start with . . .

Anyway, back to Yoshimoto. Here’s the opening of Will’s review of The Lake:

糖心传媒淭he first time Nakajima stayed over, I dreamed of my dead mom.糖心传媒�

This is the first sentence of Banana Yoshimoto糖心传媒檚 latest novel to be translated into English, The Lake. I vaguely recall learning or reading somewhere some sort of creative writing related piece of wisdom糖心传媒攐r maybe it糖心传媒檚 just some advice, or simply someone糖心传媒檚 particular philosophy. It might not even be very good advice, or a generally accepted piece of thought. It could be the most common idea in all fiction writing. I糖心传媒檓 not sure. It糖心传媒檚 just something I sort of remember coming across. (And now that I糖心传媒檝e demonstrated my impeccable credentials for book reviewing, let糖心传媒檚 continue).

Anyway, the nugget of wisdom was that the first sentence of a novel should sum up the essence of the work to follow, to lay it all out on the table. It might not be obvious as to how that sentence relates to the following work, and of course the reader will probably forget it on the journey, but the first sentence, as important as it is, should tie the whole piece together in some way. And Yoshimoto does just that.

Although the one line summary on the back cover would summarize it a little differently (more on that later), The Lake is about Chihiro, an up-and-coming mural painter who was born out of wedlock, but by loving if unusual parents: her mother was a bar owner and her father a patron, and although they were in love and had a child together, they never actually got married. Her family life was happy, if not normal, but it was that abnormality that marked Chihiro as different her whole young adult life.

Click here to read the entire review.