August 2, 2021
Here I am, back at home. That's the feeling I had, almost instantly, as I began this collection of three stories (not quite novellas in my mind, even though that is the descriptor on the cover).
You might know already that I recently read Robert Aickman's Cold Hand In Mine, and found it more miss than hit. Too many strange, Twilight-Zone endings that just didn't work for me.
Well, what wonderful luck that Yōko Ogawa gave me everything here that I had been looking for in Aickman's book: short stories with a sinister lean, efficient prose that doesn't overwork for its desired effect, and enough psychological insight to satisfy. YES.
In the title story, a teenager who has grown up in an orphanage (but oddly is the only one who isn't an orphan, because her parents run the place) takes out her complex anger and inner deadness on a toddler. In 'Pregnancy Diary', a woman witnesses her sister go through pregnancy, how she both starves and binges, bestowing on food a grotesqueness that knows no bounds. In 'The Dormitory', a disfigured man runs a student house in which his residents seem to disappear.
All three stories are disturbing and arresting, but they have an oddly welcoming quality. They invite you in to come and have a look around. The prose is lean and elegant, the themes are accessible. The stories, while independent of each other, do share commonalities: loneliness, gothic-y food fetishizing, cruelty to the vulnerable.
Yōko Ogawa is a favourite writer of mine, and I had been saving this for a while, it being the last of her translated works left for me to read. I loved it, and the only reason I'm rating it 4 stars rather than 5, is because I'm more in love with her longer work (Hotel Iris and The Memory Police).
What a joy to be invited in again by this writer. It's so nice to be home.
You might know already that I recently read Robert Aickman's Cold Hand In Mine, and found it more miss than hit. Too many strange, Twilight-Zone endings that just didn't work for me.
Well, what wonderful luck that Yōko Ogawa gave me everything here that I had been looking for in Aickman's book: short stories with a sinister lean, efficient prose that doesn't overwork for its desired effect, and enough psychological insight to satisfy. YES.
In the title story, a teenager who has grown up in an orphanage (but oddly is the only one who isn't an orphan, because her parents run the place) takes out her complex anger and inner deadness on a toddler. In 'Pregnancy Diary', a woman witnesses her sister go through pregnancy, how she both starves and binges, bestowing on food a grotesqueness that knows no bounds. In 'The Dormitory', a disfigured man runs a student house in which his residents seem to disappear.
All three stories are disturbing and arresting, but they have an oddly welcoming quality. They invite you in to come and have a look around. The prose is lean and elegant, the themes are accessible. The stories, while independent of each other, do share commonalities: loneliness, gothic-y food fetishizing, cruelty to the vulnerable.
Yōko Ogawa is a favourite writer of mine, and I had been saving this for a while, it being the last of her translated works left for me to read. I loved it, and the only reason I'm rating it 4 stars rather than 5, is because I'm more in love with her longer work (Hotel Iris and The Memory Police).
What a joy to be invited in again by this writer. It's so nice to be home.