A monochromatic sketch of emotional disconnect.
Five Japanese quarter-lifers disclose secrets and glimpses of their dark sides in a chilly slice of vérité from Yoshida (Villain, 2010).
An assailant is roving the streets near the Tokyo apartment at the center of this novel, Yoshida’s second translated into English. But the residents have other things on their minds. Ryosuke is a college student trying to work up the nerve to make a move on a friend’s girlfriend. Kotomi is having an on-again, off-again relationship with a young actor who’s suddenly become a star. Mirai is a hard-drinking woman who’s spliced together a tape of rape scenes from various movies, a horrid inversion of the cheery climax of Cinema Paradiso. Satoru is a prostitute with a penchant for breaking into homes, and Naoki is a film buff whose concluding revelation clarifies much of the preceding story. Yoshida is cannily aware of the ways that people in their late teens and 20s play-act at personalities, taking on ideas and tossing them aside. (And, being originally published in 2002, the novel is a reminder that such narcissism isn’t a function of social media.) The downside of writing about such personalities in process, though, is that emotional footholds are hard for the reader to locate; Parade dedicates a section to each of the five players, but each has a quotidian flatness. The most intriguing of the group is Mirai, who’s the savviest about calling out the white lies and bragging of her roommates, but she’s oblivious to the reasons behind her own alcoholic self-annihilation. “The only way I can be a true humanitarian in Japan today is to be snide and disagreeable,” she says. Why so snide and disagreeable? Yoshida might argue that providing a pat answer would undercut the mood of alienation. But as it is, the book is dour and distant.
A monochromatic sketch of emotional disconnect.Pub Date: July 1, 2014
ISBN: 978-0-307-45493-5
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Vintage
Review Posted Online: June 16, 2014
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 2014
Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.
A retelling of ancient Greek lore gives exhilarating voice to a witch.
“Monsters are a boon for gods. Imagine all the prayers.” So says Circe, a sly, petulant, and finally commanding voice that narrates the entirety of Miller’s dazzling second novel. The writer returns to Homer, the wellspring that led her to an Orange Prize for The Song of Achilles (2012). This time, she dips into The Odyssey for the legend of Circe, a nymph who turns Odysseus’ crew of men into pigs. The novel, with its distinctive feminist tang, starts with the sentence: “When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.” Readers will relish following the puzzle of this unpromising daughter of the sun god Helios and his wife, Perse, who had negligible use for their child. It takes banishment to the island Aeaea for Circe to sense her calling as a sorceress: “I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. I stepped into those woods and my life began.” This lonely, scorned figure learns herbs and potions, surrounds herself with lions, and, in a heart-stopping chapter, outwits the monster Scylla to propel Daedalus and his boat to safety. She makes lovers of Hermes and then two mortal men. She midwifes the birth of the Minotaur on Crete and performs her own C-section. And as she grows in power, she muses that “not even Odysseus could talk his way past [her] witchcraft. He had talked his way past the witch instead.” Circe’s fascination with mortals becomes the book’s marrow and delivers its thrilling ending. All the while, the supernatural sits intriguingly alongside “the tonic of ordinary things.” A few passages coil toward melodrama, and one inelegant line after a rape seems jarringly modern, but the spell holds fast. Expect Miller’s readership to mushroom like one of Circe’s spells.
Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.Pub Date: April 10, 2018
ISBN: 978-0-316-55634-7
Page Count: 400
Publisher: Little, Brown
Review Posted Online: Jan. 22, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2018
PROFILES
A modern day fable, with modern implications in a deceiving simplicity, by the author of Dickens. Dali and Others (Reynal & Hitchcock, p. 138), whose critical brilliance is well adapted to this type of satire. This tells of the revolt on a farm, against humans, when the pigs take over the intellectual superiority, training the horses, cows, sheep, etc., into acknowledging their greatness. The first hints come with the reading out of a pig who instigated the building of a windmill, so that the electric power would be theirs, the idea taken over by Napoleon who becomes topman with no maybes about it. Napoleon trains the young puppies to be his guards, dickers with humans, gradually instigates a reign of terror, and breaks the final commandment against any animal walking on two legs. The old faithful followers find themselves no better off for food and work than they were when man ruled them, learn their final disgrace when they see Napoleon and Squealer carousing with their enemies... A basic statement of the evils of dictatorship in that it not only corrupts the leaders, but deadens the intelligence and awareness of those led so that tyranny is inevitable. Mr. Orwell's animals exist in their own right, with a narrative as individual as it is apt in political parody.
Pub Date: Aug. 26, 1946
ISBN: 0452277507
Page Count: 114
Publisher: Harcourt, Brace
Review Posted Online: Nov. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1946
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