#japanese fiction
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I wasn't sure how I felt about this one overall, but I laughed a lot at this little bit of The Cat Who Saved Books – it's giving the energy of those book bloggers who read more books than seems humanly possible. Nothing but love to all my quick readers out there 🤍
#studyblr#studygram#studyspo#b#books#book#bookblr#booklr#bookstagram#the cat who saved books#sosuke natsukawa#japanese fiction#fiction#literature#litblr#booktok#bookworm#books & libraries#reading
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June 22nd 💕
Books, flowers, art, colour, cats and comfort are key things for this summer.
🎧 the louvre by lorde
#books#book#bibliophile#bookish#cats#flowers#nature#cat#shelfie#book shelves#translated literature#toshikazu kawaguchi#Jessica knoll#Japanese fiction#japanese literature#books books books#pawswithprose
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JOMP Book Photo Challenge / November / 15 / disabled character
For today's prompt, I’m choosing Sweet Bean Paste by Durian Sukegawa. This Japanese novel centers around Tokue, an elderly woman who was diagnosed with leprosy, a chronic disease that caused her hands to become deformed when she was a teenager, and Sentaro, a troubled middle-aged man who works in a small dorayaki shop.
Sweet Bean Paste mostly explores the theme of isolation, loneliness, and the social discrimination against people with disabilities. Sentaro has distanced himself emotionally, trapped in a monotonous routine of making dorayaki. He avoids close connections because of past regrets and drowns his sadness in alcohol. In contrast, Tokue has spent decades physically isolated, shunned by society due to her disability. But when their paths cross, a healing bond begins to form. Through Tokue’s gentle wisdom and her art of making sweet bean paste, Sentaro starts to open up, reconnecting with his own emotions and with the people around him.
#justonemorepage#jompbpc#book photo challenge#sweet bean paste#durian sukegawa#japanese fiction#japanese literature#book blog#booklr#books and reading#bookreview#books#literature#literature blog#bibliophile
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“[Natsume] Sōseki himself was extremely skeptical of the notion of leaving the past behind [ ]. As he wrote a decade earlier in his Theory of Literature [Bungakuron]:
It would be a terrible mistake simply to look to the past of one’s consciousness and assume that because it lies in the past it is necessarily less evolved than it is at present…To conclude that the tastes of the past are childish in comparison with those of today, particularly when the tastes in question are of a different quality entirely, is never acceptable even if such a judgment is made only with regard to one’s own consciousness.
It is also hard to imagine that the same man who wrote this in 1905 and “The Heredity of Taste” just six years before [his novel] Kokoro could have subscribed wholeheartedly to [the narrator] watakushi’s program of progress and his Oedipal narrative of internally mediated homosociality. Kokoro is not, after all, an elegiac romance. It is a novel that critiques the notions of progress and ‘maturation’ that are inherent in that genre to provide a much more nuanced picture of our relation to the past. For Sōseki, moreover, the narrativization of sexuality-as-development was inseparable from the narratives of the global imperial order of which he remained critical throughout his career.
In many ways, the same could be said for Sigmund Freud, who consistently sought to avoid equating the normal with the normative and knew very well that development is always beset by regressions and repetitions. Despite that knowledge, however, the narrative thrust of Freud’s ‘Three Essays’ heads inexorably towards genital heterosexuality. Freud’s argument is thus a modernizing argument insofar as it postulates a single trajectory of progress and downplays the role of violence and repudiation that fuels that progress. For Sōseki, however, a Japanese writer who was acutely aware of his position on the global periphery and as a subject of an increasingly rapacious Japanese empire, there was no missing the fact that those who have reached the ‘next stage’ have done so by scrambling over the backs of others, only to kick them in the face to keep from being overtaken. They look back with disdain on where they imagine they came from and see those who are ‘still there’ as qualitatively inferior—even as they disingenuously recite the modernizationist mantra that promises everyone the chance to ‘catch up.’”
J. Keith Vincent, Two-Timing Modernity: Homosocial Narrative in Modern Japanese Fiction
#natsume soseki#homosocial#homoerotic#homoerotism#japanese fiction#queer history#the world is wide#And history is long#kokoro
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review:
trigger warnings: fatphobia, murder, sexual assault (off page, in the past) this was good, idk why the ratings are so bad for this book. i liked the character study angle it took instead of a run of the mill, regular crime thriller. sure, it could have been a 100 pages shorter because the second half did drag a little bit. that one random chapter from reiko's pov also felt out of place. where i think the book is really strong, is creating a complex portrait of kajii as well as rika. they are really well done 3D characters. at times, this book really gave me some villanelle and eve vibes. it delves well into discussions of misogyny and fatphobia disguised as concern. i really fucking love rika's observations of her body, and the fact that she's never shown to hate her body at any point in time even thought people around her tell her she should diet, "out of concern". and, fuck, did it make me crave food CONSTANTLY. butter and soy sauce and rice i'm coming for you, just you wait.
#✦: book reviews#bookblr#books and reading#books#booklr#reading#book aesthetic#translated literature#translated fiction#butter asako yuzuki#crime fiction#thriller#mystery#japanese literature#japanese fiction
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Currently Reading: Where the Wild Ladies Are by Aoko Masters, translated by Polly Barton
Grabbed this from my work library before we closed for the winter break and I'm liking it so far! A series of short stories that are kind of based on Japanese folklore and yokai. It's lovely to see how these can be interpreted and interesting to read a little bit of backstory of the original tale the short story is based off of.
#currently reading#where the wild ladies are#aoko matsuda#polly barton#booklr#book#short stories#anthology#japanese fiction#reading#book talk#library book
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The Memory Police (POTENTIAL SPOILERS!!!)
Yoko Ogawa (translated by Stephen Snyder)
Honestly my favorite dystopian novel and my favorite piece of Japanese literature I’ve read so far. It’s a really nice introduction to Japanese fiction too since it doesnt feel so different from the pacing and storytelling style of western literature but still holds true to the uneasy concepts of Japanese horror. I also really like how internal it is. It really feels as though you’re in mc’s mind and listening to her stream of consciousness.
The dystopian aspect of things is super interesting as well. It’s very similar to some pretty popular western dystopian novels but I think it pushes the idea of the government controlling what people know to a whole different level by removing the actual memory of certain objects from people’s brains. Somehow for me this feels extra invasive, with novels like 1984 it was mostly psychological manipulation that kept everyone in check and is much more realistic than this novel which gives it a certain weight but The Memory Police takes such a normal and obviously very realistic setting and puts a very subtle supernatural twist to it. The motives of the memory police are the same as any dictatorship would be but the only difference is the control people’s memories directly. It’s what I imagine being psychologically manipulated actually feels like. I don’t know Ogawa’s background and I myself have never experienced abuse but being a woman and being able to process some of my teenage experiences with an adult brain I recognize some instances where I was gaslit by others and/or society and it was quite similar to mc’s feelings and thoughts.
I also really appreciate that we get a woman’s perspective in a dystopian society. I specify woman because dystopian novels/series published after this book really only feature children and teenagers regardless of gender. I’ve read a lot about how a teenage girl who’s mind is still quite malleable and prone to opposing authority and I’ve experienced it myself so the contrast of a woman who has a much more subtle form of defiance was very refreshing to read. Most other adult perspectives are from men either from the character themselves being a man or the author. Especially with a book that explores the mc’s inner monologue so closely, in order to accurately capture the unique feelings of anxiety that are triggered from being a woman, you often have to experience it first hand. (Btw I’m not saying men can’t understand the feeling of anxiety that comes with being a woman, when I say this I am mainly talking about the expectations placed upon women and how it feels when you are unable to meet them all. It’s a very specific feeling of failure and is one we all share but also need to deal with internally in order to move forward from them. Men are definitely put in the same situation however they are told to react in a very different manner, which is often direct towards the women in their life usually with no consequences. Women have to deal with double the shame most of the time and then are called crazy and punished when they reach their emotional limit. This idea comes up in the novel with mc’s family dynamic and so I feel is relevant to flush out.)
I love this book and really want to reread sometime soon. I currently have an extensive tbr and am not letting myself reread or buy any books until that is complete. Thanks for listening to my thoughts when no one asked for it!!
#books#book review#book opinions#dystopia#dystopian#fiction#japanese fiction#japanese author#women authors
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The Lake
Every night in her childhood, Haruka’s mother would cradle a half-asleep, dainty little Haruka into her quaint bedroom, the moonlight shining through the window, where the bridge over the lake was.
She would be carefully laid on the soft mattress on the bed, just above the straw tatami mat, as a gentle flame burned atop the candle by the mattress.
Haruka loved these moments. Akane would drape the silken comforter over her small body, tucking her in, before cuddling close to the girl in the cold darkness, and whispering the usual tale of the Akuma no Kenshin . As Haruka slowly drifted off into her everlasting wonderland, where she would play with Akane in the very same lake that glimmered and rippled under the horrified watch of the moon.
As stars would twinkle their warnings.
As the traitorous clouds camouflaged the slimy creature that slithered between the rocks at the bed of the lake they splashed happily in.
A bedtime tale passed down from mother to daughter in the Norowareta family, generation to generation. Of the siren sent down from the heavens, equipped with a gleaming, warm smile, radiant eyes that shined with an indescribable gentleness, and her multichrome scales that shined with the sun. The great Akuma no Kenshin. That’s how the Norowareta’s family lake came to be known as the Tengoku no Shonin. “ The Heaven’s Prize”.
Haruka would spend every waking moment in the sacred lake, lotuses floating lazily across the crystal waters, the cherry blossom flowers dropping from the overhanging tree into the deep waters, and koi fish, a kaleidoscope of reds, oranges and yellows playing mischievous games under the water. She would kick up a torrent of waves, giggling as the flowers moved aside for the grandeur of the current. Sometimes rode it.
Akane loved it. As they soaked their legs in the cool water, she would share stories from the beginning of time with her beloved daughter. She would do anything. For Haruka.
However times change. Haruka’s sparkling blue eyes that shined with curiosity and intrigue darkened over time, now a muddy hue, burdened with knowledge. Her coveted locks of hair chopped off the minute she turned 16. Time spent with her mother growing less and less.
Akane couldn’t juggle the misery with her role as mother and wife. Loneliness crept over her features over the passage of time, taking the form of wrinkles and ashen hair. The lake had withered with age along with the pair.
On a dry afternoon in the present, Haruka sat, poised and graceful, atop the chair in the pavilion, reading through manuscript after manuscript. She had enough of her mother’s playfulness and childish behaviour. Haruka wasn’t a dreamer or some poet. The siren was a myth, but the exam that she was to sit for to enter the school of scholars wasn’t. Akane peeked through the thin sliding door of her bedroom, a worried expression on her face, a letter in her hand, addressed to her.
A soothing voice broke through the endless silence. “Haruka- please, I need to have a word with you.”
Silence. The brushing of fingers against parchment halted.
“It’s your father, Haruka”
Haruka cut sharply through, cold. “So?”
“You’re to-”. She froze, tears slowly brimming in her eyes, her throat closing up. She could feel her weary, spotted hands shaking slightly. Would her daughter even look at her after this?
“To be wedded off.”
A pause could be heard, the soft whooshing of the wind bringing only shivers through Haruka. Akane slid open the door, in hopes of letting her daughter cry in her arms, and rekindle their lost friendship, and reassure her daughter with pats on her back that everything would be alright, and she would do everything possible to protect her.
Instead, she was met with a shaking girl, tears brimming in her hatred-filled eyes, her mouth curved into a snarl. The parchment lay across the floor, the wind blowing roughly outside, tugging at each blossom on the tree to fall into the clutches of the water regardless.
Akane could feel her face drop. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Shouts and screams echoed throughout the household, the screeching inhuman voice and a weak voice, trying to console and soothe the rage. Hands were thrown, insults shot back, a relationship choked and drowned in water, koi slipping past, their heads bobbing in pity.
Darkness soon enveloped the land of the rising sun, bringing forth drafts that swept the leaves off the grass, letting it drop into the muddy lake. Among the gentle chirps of grasshoppers chattering the latest gossip, to the gentle rustling of the flowers of the sakura blossom tree above, the aggressive sound of slippers against stone could be heard, as Haruka stormed onto the bridge over the lake.
Holding her shaky breath, she peered into the water below, unable to see the devastated look on her face, the way her eyes were red with tears, her tear-stained cheeks now red from the cold, and her rumpled yukata.
Holding her breath, she paused, pressing her eyelids tightly together, as far as she could. To bid away the bad dream. Her reality. But no matter how she pressed, she knew that it would do nothing. She was to face her nightmare alone. Her mother proved to be a pushover, a simpleton from the village. She would never know how her “dear” daughter felt. If mother even thought of me as a daughter, Haruka thought.
Thought after thought. Tear after tear. Heartbeat after heartbeat.
The knuckles of the hand that held the bridge’s railing turn a ghastly white.
Finally, she screamed, all her withheld pain and struggling, the pressure and torture into the silence, wailing for hope. For the warmth of her childhood.
The vessels in her throat and forehead strained, her voice cracking with misery as she cried, a torrent flowing down her cheeks.
Through her vision, blurry with tears, she peered down onto the rippling surface of the withered lake to see the image of a disfigured girl staring back at her from the water. The reflection frightened her, the way she had wrinkles already forming on her forehead, the way she no longer looked like her mother’s child, a new being in itself.
The water started to ripple more, all of a sudden. A hand pierced through the water, as if grasping the air, followed by a majestic being.
Her long, damp, luscious hair, unlike Haruka's, clung to the bare of her back. Her eyes shone a burning, radiant maroon, the colour of blood. She held a beaming smile, emanating an indescribable warmth.
Haruka couldn’t feel the world around her blur, as she bent over the edge of the bridge to take a look at the majestic creature. Nor the desperate cries of warning coming from the pavilion.
Was she hallucinating? Maybe so. Maybe not. But if this creature was the answer to her fears, her misery and her pain, she would gladly give herself up.
Akane’s screams of terror grew, as she watched from the pavilion bend over the edge of the bridge, peering into the water. Her eyes glazed over, mouth gaping, as if in a trance.
Akane gave up screaming, and ran to her daughter. Her beloved. She didn’t care if her daughter no longer acknowledged her, she would face the screams later.
Haruka could feel her heart beat faster and faster, in awe of the creature.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
One footstep off the bridge.
Thump.
The sharp claws of the siren reached for Haruka’s hand.
Her eyes glimmered with greed.
Skin of scales, a smile belonging to a ravenous shark. Bits of rotting flesh sticking to the teeth.
Haruka stopped, realising. Eyes growing wide, she took in a breath to scream.
Before being plunged into the cold dark waters.
The splash echoed throughout the courtyard, and Akane increased her speed, horrified. She ran onto the bridge, peering into the lake’s murky waters for any hint or sign of her daughter. Nothing.
Akane couldn’t have this. With what little energy she had, she jumped into the lake, and searched for her, a desperate look in her eyes, her mouth uttering the same word, over and over again.
“No”
Nothing was left of Haruka, except for the telltale bubbles of air that escaped to the surface.
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Hihi- this was my first original work- i don't know if i'll make a series on the akuma no kenshin. Maybe? idk. Also- i hope you liked it! I'll start making more soon! :3
#horror#original fiction#short story#japanese fiction#merfolk#siren#japanese#originalwork#shortfiction#short fiction#japanesefiction
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The Restaurant of Lost Recipes - Hisashi Kashiwai
Book no. 2 of 2025. (Kamogawashokudo Okawari) Published in 2024 G. P. Putnam’s Son / Library
A collection of short stories with excellent food writing featuring Kyoto delicacies and unique prefectural versions of Nori-Ben, Hamburger Steak, Christmas Cake, Fried Rice, Ramen, and Ten-don. I feel like there’s a lot of books being pushed out of this genre of wholesome Japanese food writing, usually there’s a bit of time traveling, and there’s always a cat. Now this book had a cute tabby cat following along, but there were no talking cats or time traveling. The characters in this book do specific research and investigate like detectives, so I actually really preferred this book for lacking the magical-ness you often see in this genre.
#the restaurant of lost recipes#hisashi kashiwai#japanese fiction#cats#food writing#japanese books#japanese#fiction#wholesome#wholesome books#cats of tumblr#magical realism#bagel#cappuccino#latte art#latte
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Will I be re-reading this book again this year?
Probably 😍
#the guest cat#takashi hiraide#books#writer#bookworm#bookstagram#author#bookdragon#reading#writing#amreading#amwriting#japan#japanese literature#japanese fiction#literature#cat#peace#short reads#peaceful read#mindful reading
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✨ BOOK REVIEW ✨
The Goodbye Cat by
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
[instagram]
This was so good. Exactly the kind of comforting, emotive writing I expected from this author. There was one story in here I didn’t really love (and one I forgot about until writing the review 😂) but the rest were fantastic.
The Goodbye Cat made me so emotional. I was not prepared to actually say goodbye to that cat. Kota was just so sweet.
Bringing Up Baby leaned into the kind of gender roles that usually make me roll my eyes but the utterly adorable story of this man trying to feel ready to be a dad by adopting and caring for a kitten won me over entirely. His bond with Spin was just so cute.
Good Father - Bad Father was the one I didn’t really connect with. I think if it had actually included the cat more or been told from the cat’s POV, I would have enjoyed it more.
Cat Island was incredibly sweet. The cat the main character’s parents had rescued being a pivotal character in a surprising role just added to the charm.
The Night Visitor wasn’t really long enough to form much of an opinion of but I enjoyed the little we got.
Finding Hachi was definitely my favourite. Everything about this story tugged at my heart and I definitely teared up multiple times during this one. Hachi was such a beautiful cat POV to read from.
Life is Not Always Kind being an extension of The Travelling Cat Chronicles just made my heart feel full. I loved being back with Nana and Satoru again so much.
I definitely recommend this one!
#the goodbye cat#hiro arikawa#japanese fiction#translated fiction#books#book review#bookedit#bookblr#literary#litedit#mine*
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Next pick for the book club I am a member of!
(Also shout out to my friend for getting these booksleeves made for us!)
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For international cat day yesterday
#books#book#bibliophile#bookish#japanese literature#japanese fiction#cat#my cat#reading#bookworm#cats#translated fiction#cats and books#pawswithprose
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Craving specific Japanese novels, condemned to read whatever random thing from random Western authors I have in my library. I'd give anything to read "The Memory Police" right now, just to mention one. I'm so sad.
#But please don't mention anything by Murakami Haruki. Just don't.#Oh - and I'm also not in the mood to read Mishima.#text#ramblings#Japanese literature#Japanese fiction
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The Box Man, a novel by Kobo Abe, translated by E. Dale Saunders. (First Vintage International Edition, 2001. Originally published in Japanese in 1973.)
#novel#fiction#literature#literary works#Japanese novel#Japanese fiction#Japanese literature#Japanese writer#Japanese novelist#The Box Man#Kobo Abe#psychological fiction#post modernism#avant garde#satiric#homelessness#contemporary society#book cover#book excerpt
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The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa
Recap of completed book playthrough (Part 3)
The memory police visits had become more brutal and without warning. In the middle of the night, Aki's house is suddenly searched by the police. R hardly dared to breathe inside the hidden room. Aki was extremely frightened. Although the searchers were very thorough, the search ended without discovery of the room. They found a pocket datebook Aki had and one of the men berated Aki for having it when calendars have already been disappeared from the island .The policeman sets it on fire. Perhaps satisfied, they left after that.
Aki goes into R's room with her emotions in a terrible state afterwards. She was crying and shaking. It was like every emotion she'd bottled up since the beginning of hiding R was trying to come out all at once now. He stroked her hair and gently embraced her to comfort her. Perhaps needing a release for their state of anxiety, things suddenly got intimate.
A few weeks later, novels were the next item to disappear. Books were burned. Aki hid her writing in R's room for safekeeping, but she had to get another job since she could no longer be a writer. She began to work as a typist for a spice company. With her new job, she only had time to prepare food for R in the morning, go to work, take Don the dog for a walk in the evening then prepare the household's dinner. She struggled to write now. R tried to reassure her that she is still the person who wrote novels even if books have disappeared. They are in each others arms often now.
The reason I am lacking screenshots for this part is this is where the playthrough veered away from the events of the book pretty greatly.
In the book, an earthquake happens and I did not feel I could recreate the earthquake scenes in sims 4. Or perhaps I could have but it would've taken a great deal of effort so I ended up using some skipping and some altering of the storyline.
BOOK VERSION: While the writer is visiting the old man on his houseboat, an earthquake happens. The old man is trapped under furniture. They escape but the old man has blood coming from an ear. Then they both go to check on R who is alright. Some of the others who were in hiding now wander the streets with their homes broken and the town never fully recovered. When cleaning up the damage to the house, the writer discovers some of her mother's statues cracked. Inside there are items hidden, items that hadn't been seen on the island in years. Lying in bed with R, she tells him memories of her mother and shows him her finds. He tells her what they are: a harmonica, Ramune candy, a ferry ticket. There was also a section when the old man and the writer go to find more of the mom's statues and break them open. These parts were skipped in my playthrough due to issues of recreating them.
MY VERSION: I continued my playthrough from when Aki sees the old man again after a period of calm. He is looking haggard and she gives him some candy. That very night, in my version and the book version, the old man collapses and passes away. In the book it was from a brain hemorrhage due to injury from the earthquake. In my version, I explained it as he had never really recovered from injuries from the time he was taken by the memory police.
In another part of Windenburg, R's wife Rie is continuing life in the house that she and R had chosen together. Their son is a smart and good little boy. She wonders if he will ever get to know his father. The old man had been helpful in delivering messages but that link was gone.
By the time people got used to not having a leg, one of their arms was the next to go missing. Aki learned to type and cook with only one hand. R continued to not be affected by the disappearances himself and fought hard to talk Aki away from disappearing piece by piece.
The conclusion in Recap Part 4
#the memory police#japanese fiction#science fiction#books#booklr#ts4#sims 4#ts4 gameplay#sims 4 gameplay#simblr#retired book playthroughs
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