DECEMBER 2021

Books 2021


A summary of books read in 2021 in chronological order and first published on my Instagram.


Gentle and heartfelt

The Housekeeper and The Professor
by Yoko Ogawa


I loved reading The Housekeeper and The Professor by Yoko Ogawa (translated by Stephen Snyder). The story centres around a housekeeper who starts to work for a mathematics professor who lives with only 80 minutes of memory.

What unfolds is a pure companionship between the Professor, Housekeeper and her 10 year old son who bond over the eternal truths of mathematics and baseball. This book delves into the intricacies and infinites of maths and numbers, something that I’ve always been in awe of but am terrible at. It was gentle and heartfelt, and soothing to a terrible year that was 2020.


Thought provoking

Breasts and Eggs
by Mieko Kawakami

I first heard about Mieko Kawakami from a translated feminist critiqued interview she did with Haruki Murakami. One of the biggest questions she asked Murakami was how he justified his portrayal of women in his books.

Ever since I read that interview, I’ve been eagerly waiting to read Kawakami’s first English translated novel (translated by Sam Bett and David Boyd), Breasts and Eggs.

The story is in two parts, part one focuses on the main character Natsuko’s sister’s near to obsession of her breasts and getting breast enhancement surgery. The second part delves into Natsuko’s want of a child and donor conception.

An aspect of the book that interested me was the title. Not the English title Breasts and Eggs, but the original Japanese title 夏物語 ー meaning ‘summer stories’. The English title perfectly encapsulated the themes of the book but I wasn’t sure why it was originally called 夏物語, reading it though, I soon realised why. The majority of the book’s turning points occur in the middle of the Japanese summer, the book drew me into the erratic rainy season of June, the languid heat and unrelenting sun of July and August, and the constant sweat that make up a typical Japanese summer.

The summer setting itself is a sole reason to read this book, if not for the matter of fact way it tackles what it’s like to be a woman in modern day Japan. What stuck with me first and foremost of the second part was the question of why people have children, and the book presented wildly different facets of an argument that needs to be more thoroughly thought through.


Chilling macabre tales

Revenge
by Yoko Ogawa

I picked up this paperback one weekend in March partly because I was attracted to the size and cover, plus I’ve been wanting to read more of Ogawa’s books.

Revenge by Yoko Ogawa (translated by Stephen Snyder) featured eleven slice of life tales that interwove characters and plot lines with tragic cruelty and ominous chaos. The book was the perfect companion as it fit snuggly into my smaller bags, and its macabre storytelling gave me chills when read late at night.


Complex identities and relationships

Free Food For Millionaires
by Min Jin Lee

At 600+ pages, Free Food For Millionaires by Min Jin Lee was a long book but it wasn’t at all a dragged out read. Anyone who has talked to me about books know how much praise I have for Lee’s iconic Pachinko, I have raved on excitedly maybe one too many times. So I was excited to have spotted the thick paperback on the top shelf in the corner while visiting the bookstore on a whim because it meant I could read more of Min Jin Lee’s work.

The book centred around Casey Han, a daughter of working-class Korean immigrants and how she and the people in her life navigate the many different levels of society and how that ties in with their own culture and identity within 1990s New York. There was a lot about money, education, family, sex and materialism, and what I was in awe of was Lee’s ability to weave together a wide range of characters and their complex identities and relationships. We got into the nitty gritty of each character’s identities, we saw them at their highest and lowest, their victories and especially their failures were so legitimate and human.

There was also an underlying theme of pride in both of its opposite forms, the pleasure or satisfaction of one’s own achievements as seen in many resilient migrant families, and the ugly, inordinate opinion of one’s own merit seen in those who are unable to accept that they are in need but refuse help. Each character was tied to the notion of pride, and it was interesting to judge which form was presented.


Brutal tenderness and raw honesty

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous
by Ocean Vuong

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong read like a poem, like a piece of art that was life and experience, a book that dug deep and scraped me to the core.

Written as a letter from a son to a mother who cannot read, the letter unfolds a family’s history through a non-linear narrative. The speaker, Little Dog, tells of Vietnam, the lasting impacts of war and survival.

Written with brutal tenderness and raw honesty, I felt what Little Dog was saying before I fully understood what he saying. Ocean Vuong really has a way with words. The book was a reminder of how much it is a privilege to not only be able to read but to have access to stories like these that share intimate histories and experiences.


Subtleties of grieving, loneliness and love

Kitchen
by Banana Yoshimoto

Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto (translated by Megan Backus) consisted of two novellas, Kitchen and Moonlight Shadow. Both were about death, the subtleties of grieving, loneliness and love.

Yoshimoto writes with a dreamy and delicate but straightforward tenderness and solace that resonated with me ever since I read her novel Amrita - one of my favourite books.

I have a feeling that this book, especially the first tale is something I will revisit again and again in the future.

Contemplative of bullying, indifference and choice

Heaven
by Mieko Kawakami

Heaven by Mieko Kawakami (translated by Sam Bett and David Boyd) centres around a fourteen year old boy with a lazy eye who suffers silently through relentless bullying. He befriends Kojima, a classmate who also experiences similar treatment at the hands of her bullies, and only having each other for consolation, their friendship grows through their shared bond.

There was a lot of violence in the book that was at times too painful to read because it was presented as subdued, almost delicate and quiet, which I think is one of the most terrifying forms of violence.

Kawakami uses bullying as a conduit to discuss more philosophical topics and the book makes you think about how the meek are living in a world where the strong are favoured, and how people do things in the moment with no regard to meaning. It also asks whether we are complicit when we are indifferent and to what degree.

I love books like these, simple, straightforward and subtlety moving and contemplative of how and why people and the world are the way they are.


Social commentary with dark humour and dramatic irony

The White Tiger
by Aravind Adiga


The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga is all about its amicable narrator, Balram Halwai.

Told through a letter written under the lights of an obnoxious chandelier in an equally grand hotel suite, Balram tells the story of how he became a servant, philosopher, murderer and entrepreneur.

The book saturates it’s social commentary of India with dark humour, dramatic irony and just the right amount of suspense. The standout themes of the book are rich vs poor and master vs servant.

There is a particular passage on page 245 that has stuck with me and every so often since finishing the book I think about sometimes. The visual imagery of the Honda City’s headlights shining onto dark fruits in a cellophane bag held by a passerby is so vivid that we get a second-glimpse into Balram’s most inner thoughts as the story peaks to the main event, the murder. I think it was my favourite part of the book.


Disapearances, memory and intimate connection

The Memory Police
by Yoko Ogawa

The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa (translated by Stephen Snyder) takes place on an unnamed mysterious island where things disappear overnight. From everyday things like calendars to even novels, each disappearance affects the reader differently depending on what’s important to you.

Following these disappearances, the citizens of this island are docile in getting rid of whatever has “been disappeared” as it leaves their memories and therefore becomes useless. The Memory Police are taciturn, cold and ruthlessly precise in their duties to track down hidden objects and the few people who still have their memories.

The book’s plot felt like nothing in particular happened, there was no big revelation or reveal, there were no outwardly displays of violence or horror just the insinuation of brutality, the eeriness of the disappearances and how they were just subtle movements part of life on this strange island.

Despite the cold dystopian theme, the novel is filled with the fragility and intimacy of human connection, and this is seen most between the main character, her old family friend and her editor they decide to protect.

Some readers might get frustrated with the ending as no concrete answers come alight, there are still many questions surrounding the disappearances, the island and its inhabitants. The book ends on a serene existential note.

The Memory Police is one of those books that has a lot to unpack and I wish I had the proper words.


Vivid opulence, the occult and womanhood

Circe
by Madeline Miller

Circe by Madeline Miller focused on a nymph named Circe who is considered to be a lesser god especially in comparison to her father Helios, the sun god. Circe is exiled to a deserted island who then hones her occult skills, and throughout her immortal years she runs into many famous figures like the Minotaur, Daedalus and his doomed son Icarus, Medea, and Odysseus, who plays a central role in the book.

Ancient Greek mythology is so fascinating and entertaining because it’s rich in storytelling of tragic characters and tales. Miller’s retelling in Circe delivered the myth in a contemporary way, the book delved into familial ties, motherhood, morality, being a woman in a man’s world and knowing oneself, themes that are entirely relevant today.

The language of the book was vivid and opulent, and delivered with eloquence and grace. It was so easy to read and so hard to put down. I especially loved the ending passage, I read it with my breath held in. It was a beautiful ending done incredibly well with delicateness in its delivery of longing and urgency.


Special retelling of a devastating tragedy

The Song of Achilles
by Madeleine Miller

Ancient Greek mythology is wild and exciting, there’s so much in it, immortality, sorcery, revenge, violence, sacrifice, beasts, betrayal, the list can go on and on but the one thing I love (and also dread) about Greek mythology is the tragedy that comes with it.

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller was a whirlwind retelling of the famous Achilles / Trojan War tale. What made it really special was that it was from the perspective of Patroclus, this awkward, exiled young prince. The love and dearness between Patroclus and Achilles was so pure that it made what was inevitable in the famous Greek myth even more devastating. 


Locked room mystery, short, sharp and simple

The Honjin Muders
by Seishi Yokomizo

The Honjin Murders by Seishi Yokomizo (translated by Louise Heal Kawai) is the first of many classic Japanese murder mystery novels that introduces the amicable and famed Detective Kousuke Kindaichi. The story surrounds a murder case that occurs during the winter of 1937 on the night of the wedding of a son of the grand Ichiyanagi family.

It is a locked room mystery, short, sharp and simple. I had rarely read murder mysteries but after picking this one up I’ve found that the genre is so incredibly satisfying in a sense that there’s an intense build up to the ultimate reveal.


Theatrical writing matched with fiendish murders

The Inugami Curse
by Seishi Yokomizo


The Inugami Curse by Seishi Yokomizo (translated by Yumiko Yamazaki) is another Detective Kousuke Kindaichi murder mystery novel I picked up right after reading The Honjin Murders (see previous post).

After the head of the wealthy Inugami Clan dies, the family awaits the reading of the will. What follows is a series of intricate and fiendish murders. The language of the book was theatrically over the top and eccentric much like the family members of the Inugami Clan, the murders and reasoning.

I love a good story about big families and even bigger personalities and relationships. The Inugami Clan’s familial ties, history and subsequently revealed secrets were complex with intriguing plot twists which made the book even more fun to read!


Exciting lead up to a shocking reveal

The Decagon House Muders
by Yukito Ayatsuji


The Decagon House Murders by Yukito Ayatsuji (translated by Ho-Ling Wong) was my favourite of the three Japanese murder mysteries I read in succession last year.

The book follows a group of students from a university mystery club that decide to visit an island where a multiple murder occurred the year before. What follows is only to be expected, they get picked off one by one.

The reveal of the murderer was so good and shocking that I had to go back and double check a couple of times to make sure of what I was reading. It was very exciting to read.

I also really love the cover artwork of all three books (published by Pushkin Vertigo) and how they reference what happens in the book.


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