To go against the grain of prologues and intros (more on that from This Hannah in a bit), here’s the beginning of her review:

If you糖心传媒檙e one of those people who habitually skim the prologue to a book, Minae Mizumura糖心传媒檚 _A True Novel_糖心传媒攈er third novel and the winner of the Yomiuri Literature Prize in Japan in 2002糖心传媒攎ight not appear to be for you. That is to say, the prologue takes up at least a third of the first volume of the book, and it糖心传媒檚 pretty important for understanding the circumstances in which the story that makes up this 糖心传媒渢rue novel糖心传媒� takes place, in addition to sorting out what, exactly, a 糖心传媒渢rue novel糖心传媒� is. Luckily for you, O prologue skippers of the world, there is nothing dry or uninteresting about the first 165 pages of this book, which introduces the protagonist, Taro Azuma, as Mizumura knew him when she lived in America during her teens. In fact, if you were somehow unaware of the name of the author when you came into the reading the book, you might not realize that the entire thing wasn糖心传媒檛 a fictional account from an outsider to establish what happened during the gaps in the main story. I actually forgot a couple of times that I was reading a prologue at all.

The main function of the prologue here is to both set up the circumstances which led to this novel being written, and to sort out for the reader what exactly a 糖心传媒渢rue novel糖心传媒� is. On the outside, it seems like it might be an oxymoron: because a novel is fictional, it surely can糖心传媒檛 be 糖心传媒渢rue,糖心传媒� right? Or maybe the title refers more to the fact that the novel is an example of the 糖心传媒渢rue糖心传媒� form that a novel should take. It turns out that in this case, 糖心传媒渢rue糖心传媒� is a combination of the story糖心传媒檚 basis in reality and its following in the pattern of Western classics: authentic, 糖心传媒渢rue糖心传媒� novels. Mizumura takes a few pages to explain the history of the 糖心传媒渢rue糖心传媒� and 糖心传媒淚-novels糖心传媒� and it makes no sense fragmented, so all I糖心传媒檓 going to say is read the damn prologue, or else flounder in confusion. Your choice.

Like that little prologue? For the rest of the review, go here

The main function of the prologue here is to both set up the circumstances which led to this novel being written, and to sort out for the reader what exactly a 糖心传媒渢rue novel糖心传媒� is. On the outside, it seems like it might be an oxymoron: because a novel is fictional, it surely can糖心传媒檛 be 糖心传媒渢rue,糖心传媒� right? Or maybe the title refers more to the fact that the novel is an example of the 糖心传媒渢rue糖心传媒� form that a novel should take. It turns out that in this case, 糖心传媒渢rue糖心传媒� is a combination of the story糖心传媒檚 basis in reality and its following in the pattern of Western classics: authentic, 糖心传媒渢rue糖心传媒� novels. Mizumura takes a few pages to explain the history of the 糖心传媒渢rue糖心传媒� and 糖心传媒淚-novels糖心传媒� and it makes no sense fragmented, so all I糖心传媒檓 going to say is read the damn prologue, or else flounder in confusion. Your choice.

What I can excerpt is a bit on Mizumura糖心传媒檚 thought process as she considered making a novel out of the story told to her by Yusuke Kato about a man Mizumura knew as a teenager:

It was when I finally began to write about Taro Azuma that I came up against an obstacle I had not foreseen. What I had taken to be a gift from heaven was, I gradually found out, not all that simple. The further I progressed, the more insistent that problem became: how to take 糖心传媒渁 story just like a novel糖心传媒� and turn it into a novel in Japanese.

. . .

The story I was told on that stormy night was merely one of many love stories already told a thousand times. Why turn it into yet another novel? There was only one answer I could think of: it recalled the translated Western novels I had encountered as a girl, especially one that never failed to make a disturbing impression on me every time I read it: a literary classic set on the wild Yorkshire moors and written more than a hundred and fifty years ago by the English-woman E.B糖心传媒� What I set out to do was thus close to rewriting a Western novel in Japanese.

So here we finally come up against the thing that the back cover of this book does not want anyone to forget: this novel is 糖心传媒渁 remaking of Emily Bront毛糖心传媒檚 Wuthering Heights, set in postwar Japan.糖心传媒� I糖心传媒檓 hesitant to agree with that statement entirely. While the plot of the story does seem to mimic, in some places, that of Wuthering Heights, with all the main characters represented (the outsider, the housekeeper, the poor abused boy, the rich girl he loves, etc.), the fact that the story is real kind of discounts it, in my mind at least, from being a 糖心传媒渞e-making糖心传媒� of anything糖心传媒攊n addition to many obvious changes, including 糖心传媒渘ew糖心传媒� characters, who shift the progression of the plot away from Bront毛糖心传媒檚 classic. Mizumura herself states that, although the story seemed to fit that pattern to begin with, as she was writing she saw it take its own, unique shape. But perhaps I糖心传媒檓 just splitting hairs. At any rate, I was pleased to discover that I enjoyed A True Novel immensely (much more than I enjoyed Wuthering Heights, in point of fact). I accredit the gap in my enjoyment between the two books to several things, but in particular that, whereas Wuthering Heights is a romance novel, and pretty much only that, A True Novel is the story of so much more糖心传媒攆amily rivalry, economic turmoil, loss, and the growing modernization of a country coming into the 20th century at full throttle.

And really, all comparisons to Wuthering Heights aside, the stark sense of reality in this book informed both by the genuineness of the general plot and the expertly-done character development plants the story糖心传媒攁nd the characters in it糖心传媒攆irmly on the ground. No one would ever be tricked into believing this is a biography or a non-fiction book, but the skill with which Mizumura fleshes out people who she糖心传媒檚 only ever 糖心传媒渕et糖心传媒� through second and third hand accounts is staggering and wonderful. Everything is cleanly situated in space and time, localized to the latter half of the 20th century in Japan and giving the reader a view into the ever-shifting lives of the 糖心传媒渂etter families糖心传媒� who were forced to make adjustments in their every-day lives due to post-war policies, but held on fiercely to the societal prejudices that allowed them to maintain their social, if not their monetary, superiority. With the added black-and-white photographs illustrating various places and things mentioned in the text, you糖心传媒檒l never lose touch with where or when the story is, and you糖心传媒檒l begin to absorb the feeling of the mourning in which the older generations are for the cultural past swept away in the current of modernity.

The plot is triple-layered: the outside is the story of Yusuke Kato糖心传媒檚 brief interactions with the Saegusa family, Taro Azuma, and Fumiko Tsuchiya one summer week when he was vacationing with a friend. The next layer is Fumiko糖心传媒檚 retelling糖心传媒攖o Yuksue糖心传媒攐f the things she witnessed during her acquaintance with the Saegusa, Shigemitsu, Utagawa, and Azuma families. The innermost layer of the plot is the history of the Saegusa, Shigemitsu, and Utagawa families, as told by the Shigemitsu糖心传媒檚 maid to Fumiko when Fumiko was in the Utagawa family糖心传媒檚 service. Each layer of the plot is nested inside the other to create a fully expanded story, from before the beginning to after the end. Each of the narrators brings a part of the story into being, although not necessarily in order, to create a fully satisfying novel that entirely lacks the tug of lethargy that is always a risk in books this long. Every word is important here, every page brings something new, something that the reader is eager to know, and that makes this novel an easy read, despite its length. Juliet Winters Carpenter and Ann Sherif have created a translation that is smooth, evocative, and modern, while maintaining the air of affectation that surrounds the central families.

So, for those of you who slept through Brit. Lit. II (don糖心传媒檛 worry, I don糖心传媒檛 know who you are糖心传媒擨 was half-asleep, myself), hate romance novels, or are just generally afraid of long books, fear not. Minae Mizumura糖心传媒檚 A True Novel is reader-friendly, engaging, and, while similar in places to Wuthering Heights, far longer, much more interesting, and (I糖心传媒檒l argue, to the distress of English literature teachers everywhere) more important in the conclusions (or lack there of) it ultimately draws. A True Novel is a simultaneously expansive and private insight into the struggle between traditional Japanese values and incoming Western conventions, monetary wealth and spiritual value, and status and love糖心传媒攁 work of literature not to be missed.

The interns have been getting marginally scandalous book assignments to review: Hannah had this one, with the nudie woman on the cover, while another of our interns is working on a review of a different book that is nudie/pornographic, kind of, in content. Or so I’ve heard. These students are possibly too patient with us. And we’re grateful.

Here’s the beginning of Hannah’s review:

If you have enough time, I糖心传媒檓 going to recommend you sit down and read this one straight through. Natsuo Kirino is best known for her award-winning 1997 novel Out, which brought her fame in Japan and a considerable readership in the wider world as well, and although The Goddess Chronicles is not a mystery story, per se, I felt the same kind of insistent tug to read on that I get when reading mysteries. It糖心传媒檚 not so much the feeling of dangling after a cliff-hanger as it is an almost sick fascination with finding out how next the bitter suffering of women doomed to darkness would manifest.

I糖心传媒檓 getting ahead of myself. Let me backtrack for a moment: The Goddess Chronicles is a feminist perspective on the story of Izanami and Izanaki as told, experienced, and then seen through by Namima, the younger sister of the celebrated Oracle of a poverty-stricken island community and the priestess of darkness before she meets an untimely demise and finds herself trapped in the regret-filled underworld with a vengeful goddess. Namima learns the story of Izanami糖心传媒檚 love of and betrayal by her husband Izanaki, and witnesses the final moments of their epic struggle, while she herself must come to terms with her own bitterness and regret set off confusingly by her love and concern for her sister and daughter, who are caught in a trap of theistic rigidity that Namima herself died escaping.

Everything in this novel is about opposites糖心传媒攍ife and death, love and hate, good and evil, yin and yang糖心传媒攂ut nothing is black and white. The Goddess Chronicles is proof positive that nothing in life (or death) has clean edges, no matter how hard we may try to impose them.

I糖心传媒檓 getting ahead of myself. Let me backtrack for a moment: The Goddess Chronicles is a feminist perspective on the story of Izanami and Izanaki as told, experienced, and then seen through by Namima, the younger sister of the celebrated Oracle of a poverty-stricken island community and the priestess of darkness before she meets an untimely demise and finds herself trapped in the regret-filled underworld with a vengeful goddess. Namima learns the story of Izanami糖心传媒檚 love of and betrayal by her husband Izanaki, and witnesses the final moments of their epic struggle, while she herself must come to terms with her own bitterness and regret set off confusingly by her love and concern for her sister and daughter, who are caught in a trap of theistic rigidity that Namima herself died escaping.

Everything in this novel is about opposites糖心传媒攍ife and death, love and hate, good and evil, yin and yang糖心传媒攂ut nothing is black and white. The Goddess Chronicles is proof positive that nothing in life (or death) has clean edges, no matter how hard we may try to impose them.

I recalled Izanami糖心传媒檚 words: 糖心传媒楬eaven and earth, man and woman, birth and death, day and night, light and dark, yang and yin. You may wonder why everything was paired in this way, but a single entity would have been insufficient. In the beginning, two became one, and from that union new life came. Whenever a single entity was paired with its opposite, the value of both became clear from the contrast糖心传媒攁nd the mutual association enriched the meaning of both.糖心传媒�

But once Izanami had died, the value of the pairing was lost and she became associated only with the dark half: earth, woman, death, night, dark yin and, yes, pollution. It might be presumptuous of me to suggest it, but what had happened to her was not unlike my own death. On Umihebi Island, I had been assigned the role of yin and was named 糖心传媒榠mpure.糖心传媒� I understood Izanami糖心传媒檚 anger and bitterness.

The feminist aspect here is refreshing, especially coming from a country whose cultural policies and perceptions have oftentimes teetered on the edge of (and sometimes fallen into) misogyny. Kirino has touched on themes of misogyny in previous novels, including Grotesque and Real World, but it takes on a special kind of tortured poignancy here, where the female characters are simultaneously worshipped and denigrated: Namima, destined to be an important religious figure in her community but treated as an 糖心传媒渋mpure糖心传媒� outsider, who will be required to commit suicide when her sister dies to preserve the balance of nature; Mahito糖心传媒檚 mother, whose family糖心传媒檚 entire future rides on her giving birth to a baby girl, who has no worth without it; and Izanami, who gave birth to the world and the gods and goddesses in it, who dies in childbirth and is then condemned by her own husband to live in hatred and bitterness in the underworld, killing when she was created to give life. The women in the novel have the tangible power, but they are influenced most strongly by their relationships to men, even to the point of destruction of other women or themselves. And be warned: if you糖心传媒檙e looking for a truly satisfying, storybook ending, you糖心传媒檙e out of luck. Kirino has a flawless way of injecting bitter reality into her mythic setting.

Something else that caught my attention about this book is its overall flow. I糖心传媒檓 really picky about English translations of character languages, specifically how a translator decides to deal with the entanglement of specific kinds of wordplay with the nuances of the individual characters. I could write a book on the things I糖心传媒檝e seen translators do that make me want to hide my face in my hands and scream, but luckily I don糖心传媒檛 have to, because translator Rebecca Copeland did everything right in what must have been a veritable minefield (so many gods and goddesses! so many symbolically important names! ah!) of choices. The explanations of names and places is carried off in such a way that none of the explanations of etymologies kicked me out of reading with a big, glaring, 糖心传媒淗ELLO I AM A TRANSLATION糖心传媒� sign flashing before my eyes. It糖心传媒檚 rare that I find a translation from Japanese that leaves me as comfortable as this one, and I appreciate that immensely.

Kirino糖心传媒檚 language and touch of reality is all that it takes to turn this book from the fairy tale it might have been into something which seems more like the biography of disillusioned women who find everything out the hard way. You will be repulsed by Izanami, or you will feel pity for her糖心传媒攜ou can do both. You will hate Izanaki, or you will mourn his losses yourself糖心传媒攊s that so wrong? These characters are real enough, with life enough of their own, to transcend their mythical boundaries and become people about whom your opinions will shift and change as if you knew them personally. Like I said earlier, Kirino wants you to know that there are no clean edges in the world. How better to understand that than to experience it yourself?

This tale may be spun from my words but I speak for the goddess, the one who governs the Realm of the Dead. My words may be dyed red with anger; they may tremble in yearning after the living; but they are all, each and every one, spoken to express the sentiments of the goddess. As will become clear later, I am a priestess 糖心传媒� a miko 糖心传媒� and like the famous reciter of old Hieda no Are who entertains the goddess with ancient tale from the age of the gods, I too serve her with all my heart.

Hannah is one of our Open Letter interns this summer (and a recent student of Chad’s), and in addition to helping copy edit manuscripts, keeping the mail situation in check, reading submissions, and patiently ducking as we test the new darts for the office dartboard, she’ll also be contributing to the Three Percent reviews during her stay with us.

Here’s the beginning of her review:

I went into this book expecting the wrong things; I thought I had picked up a novel with, y糖心传媒檏now, plot, but the 280 pages of Gon莽alo Tavares糖心传媒� The Neighborhood are filled with vignettes糖心传媒斕切拇綔chapters糖心传媒� ranging from tiny to small, with concise titles and little-to-no binding between them糖心传媒攕orted by each of six characters: the 糖心传媒淢isters糖心传媒櫶切拇綕 Val茅ry, Calvino, Juarroz, Kraus, Walser and Henri, each of them taking their names from one of Tavares糖心传媒� literary idols. These six men live in a neighborhood outlined in one of many minimalist illustrations by Rachel Caiano, where their entertaining and sometimes outright absurd, but always thought-provoking ponderings on life and the subsequent actions that they take as a result of them create a village where philosophical bendiness can make anything true.

Tavares糖心传媒� Misters have a way of taking the absurd and making it plausible, taking the patently obvious and making it absurd, and taking the unobserved and making it noteworthy by leaps and bounds of logic which are simultaneously puzzling and simple. Take, for instance, a chapter on Mister Henri (named for Henri Michaux), a man who by Tavares糖心传媒� description must have sacrificed his liver long ago on the altar of his beloved absinthe, 糖心传媒淭he Garden Bench糖心传媒�:

Mister Henri was in the garden standing before his favorite bench, where a woman was seated, playing the violin.

Mister Henri interrupted the violinist and said, 糖心传媒淎ntonio Stradivarius was the most famous violin maker of all time. One could say that he was the architect of violins. He experimented with several kinds of violins until he decided upon the size and shape of the Stradivarius violin. I could have been a great violinist, but I never knew how to play the violin. However, alcohol existed well before the violin. Well before violinists existed, there existed people who were artistically inspired by alcohol. Therefore, please get off that bench with your violin. Because that bench is mine,糖心传媒� said Mister Henri.

For the rest of the review, go here.

Tavares糖心传媒� Misters have a way of taking the absurd and making it plausible, taking the patently obvious and making it absurd, and taking the unobserved and making it noteworthy by leaps and bounds of logic which are simultaneously puzzling and simple. Take, for instance, a chapter on Mister Henri (named for Henri Michaux), a man who by Tavares糖心传媒� description must have sacrificed his liver long ago on the altar of his beloved absinthe, 糖心传媒淭he Garden Bench糖心传媒�:

Mister Henri was in the garden standing before his favorite bench, where a woman was seated, playing the violin.

Mister Henri interrupted the violinist and said, 糖心传媒淎ntonio Stradivarius was the most famous violin maker of all time. One could say that he was the architect of violins. He experimented with several kinds of violins until he decided upon the size and shape of the Stradivarius violin. I could have been a great violinist, but I never knew how to play the violin. However, alcohol existed well before the violin. Well before violinists existed, there existed people who were artistically inspired by alcohol. Therefore, please get off that bench with your violin. Because that bench is mine,糖心传媒� said Mister Henri.

The Misters tend to think like this, taking a roundabout approach to get to a strikingly obvious (if not entirely realistic) conclusion, in so few words from Tavares that the simplicity of the writing adds punch to the simplicity of the thought. Mister (Paul) Val茅ry, for instance, another denizen of the neighborhood, wears a black shoe on the right foot and a white shoe on his left foot. Upon being told that his shoes are 糖心传媒渟witched糖心传媒� he puts a white shoe on his right foot and a black shoe on his left foot. When he is told again that his shoes are switched, he determines that this must be wrong, since if it was incorrect the first time and he reversed it, it must now be correct, since the inverse is the opposite of the wrong original, making it right. With this in mind, he no longer worries about whether his shoes are on the correct feet糖心传媒攕o long as they are the opposite of their inverse, they糖心传媒檙e fine.

Now, it took me as many almost as many words to explain that chapter (糖心传媒淭he Shoes糖心传媒�) as it took Tavares to write it. That is the beauty of his writing, Roopanjali Roy糖心传媒檚 translation, and of this book itself: the simplicity of the ideas mirrored in the simplicity of the writing. The style seems like it belongs in a book for children (it reminded me pretty strongly of Norton Juster糖心传媒檚 The Phantom Tollbooth), its language simple and straight to the point, creating an entertaining counterpoint to the absurdity of the content. In his introduction, Philip Graham mentions that his eleven year old daughter and her class in school loved Tavares糖心传媒� writing: 糖心传媒淚 was mightily impressed by how even young children could be moved by Tavares糖心传媒� writing, even though they certainly didn糖心传媒檛 have a clue who Juarroz,Val茅ry, or the others might be.糖心传媒�

This is where I get a little uneasy. Based on everything else mentioned above, I want to say that I loved the book糖心传媒攁nd I did like it a lot糖心传媒攂ut I couldn糖心传媒檛 enjoy it as much as I wanted to because, like Graham糖心传媒檚 daughter, Hannah, I didn糖心传媒檛 have a grasp on who the models for the Misters really were. And unlike those children, while I found the stories were enjoyable, I couldn糖心传媒檛 shake the feeling that I was missing glaringly obvious references to the Misters糖心传媒� philosophical views or prevalent themes in their works, which kept me slightly uncomfortable for the duration of the book. That being said, the pathological need to know ALL OF THE BACKGROUND!!!! before I go into reading something is a long-standing personal hang-up of mine, and perhaps because of that this book wasn糖心传媒檛 the best way to introduce me to Tavares糖心传媒� writing. I wish that I could have enjoyed it the way that those children did, but I was nagged the entire time by that feeling of missing something, and I糖心传媒檓 sad to say that it diminished my potential enjoyment of the book as a whole.

So I went into this book expecting the wrong things, but that糖心传媒檚 not to say that I was disappointed. On the contrary, the project that Tavares underwent in creating the stories and the characters in The Neighborhood is staggering both in terms of its inception and its execution; the entire project had thirty-nine total inhabitants squished into Caiano糖心传媒檚 map by the time that this translated collection went to press, all famous figures repurposed by Tavares糖心传媒� clever hand. The short stories are enjoyable in their absurdity and profundity, simultaneously provoking smiles and making the reader think, 糖心传媒淭hat糖心传媒檚 ridiculo糖心传媒� wait, uh, actually . . . that kind of makes sense. I think.糖心传媒� Perhaps for people like me who need to know everything going in, this book is not ideal, but for someone who糖心传媒檚 familiar with Italo Calvino, Paul Val茅ry, Roberto Juarroz, Robert Walser, Karl Kraus, or Henri Michaux and can appreciate the homages to them (or a reader who is able and content to just take the stories as they are) The Neighborhood is a delightful collection from one of Portugal糖心传媒檚 most striking modern literary talents.