Un giorno il sogno di Kazumi Mano diventa realtà: l'alluce del suo piede destro si trasforma in un pene e questa metamorfosi le apre a poco a poco un nuovo universo erotico. Comincia così per Kazumi una sorta di viaggio iniziatico verso una nuova sessualità, un vero e proprio apprendistato che è presa d'atto della sua nuova condizione, tra uomo e donna, e si svolge alla ricerca di vie inesplorate.
Rieko Matsuura (松浦 理恵子) was born on August 7, 1958 in Matsuyama, Ehime Prefecture, Japan.
She studied at Aoyama Gakuin University of Liberal Arts and is a postmodern novelist.
She went from Marugame West Middle School to Kagawa Prefecture Otemae Middle School, a private school in the area. Matsuura attended Aoyama Gakuin University where she majored in French literature. In her teens, she had read Marquis de Sade and Jean Genet, and she wished to be in the French literature department so she could read their works in the original language. In 1978, while enrolled at school, she won the Bungakuki New Writers Award (文學界新人賞) award for writing "The Day of the Funeral", her first book. In 1987, her book Natural Woman was given a rave review by Kenji Nakagami, bringing attention to her. In 1994, her book Apprenticeship of Big Toe P, about the travels of a woman whose big toe on her right foot turns into a penis, won the Women Writers' Prize. The book also went on to be a bestseller. Also in 1994, she co-wrote a film adaptation of Natural Woman, which was released in 1994.
Seven years passed between Apprenticeship of Big Toe P and Opposite Version, and another seven until Kenshin was published. The latter book, published in 2007, won the Yomiuri Prize in 2008. She is currently a committee member for the Shinchō New Writers Award.
The main thing to know about this is the premise: Matsuura takes some cues from Kafka's metamorphasis, but instead of Gregor Samsa waking up as an insect, a young Japanese woman wakes up and her big toe has turned into a penis. When her homophobic boyfriend (who feels initially disgusted by her toe-penis, then eventually threatened by its size now that he sees her as a "man") tries to chop it off, she leaves him to go on a (mostly sexual) journey of self-discovery, which begins with a blind pianist and ends in places no other story is willing to go. The result is an incredibly bizarre, beautifully realized novel that's also a fascinating (though, and I can't emphasize this enough, sometimes very problematic) meditation on gender and lgbtq issues; desire; exhibitionism; sexual violence; impotence; and the incredible distance between ourselves, our own bodies, and other people.
What's maybe more important is how compelling the novel is. I read all 450 pages of it in one day over the course of something like nine hours, which is the most I've read in years. In particular, I'm impressed that when the "Flower Circus" was introduced, which could have gone so wrong, the book only became more interesting, and eventually led to probably the most complex love quadrangle ever.
Stylistically Big Toe P is a mixture of very plain, matter-of-fact prose and incredibly insightful introspection. It's important to know there's a lot of sex in this book--most of it very bizarre, some of it disturbing, and occasionally verging on terrifying. But, despite how graphic it is, readers looking for pornography are probably in the wrong place, as the novel's tone is always analytic and almost never erotic. It's fascinating to me that this was a bestseller in Japan, since in its effect it's almost similar to a much milder (and incredibly tender) version of Delany's Hogg... especially considering it was originally published in 1993.
The last thing I should mention is, as is common for Japanese writing (which tends, so often, to culminate in self-sacrifice for the sake of very abstract principles or, in this case, preserving the status-quo), I didn't like the ending--especially because it felt so much more conservative than the rest of the novel and the direction it seemed to be moving. But the novel as a whole is brilliant and powerful, plus probably the most thorough examination of desire I've seen, and I really can't recommend it enough for anyone interested in the issues it touches on or contemporary Japanese writing in translation.
La premessa è subito interessante, con la scoperta immediata dell'alluce P e di tutta una serie di riflessioni che ne conseguono. Le prime 200 pagine mi sono piaciute molto (da 4 stelle, per intenderci) poiché l'autrice riesce a portare il lettore a ragionare su diversi temi attraverso una scrittura molto semplice e scorrevole.
Un aspetto particolarmente interessante è la riflessione sui diversi significati che un atto sessuale può assumere per uomini e donne, in particolare riguardo alla fellatio. Il libro esplora il modo in cui i protagonisti interpretano questo gesto, rivelando le loro concezioni intime e sociali della sessualità (questa e altre citazioni, in fondo alla recensione**)
Purtroppo però tutta la seconda parte del libro non mi ha presa, mi sono trovata ad annoiarmi e a ha saltare qualche paragrafo qua e là senza che cambiasse il senso della narrazione. Il libro si perde via e diventa sempre meno un aiuto nel riflettere tematiche legate alla sessualità e all'accettarsi, quanto più una bozza di eventi accatastati con poco valore.
Sicuramente accorciare la narrazione e tagliare alcune parti, aggiungendo qualche riflessione in più, avrebbe aiutato la storia a mantenersi interessante.
Citazioni: RIFLESSIONE SULLA FELLATIO: Lui: <>. Lei: <>. Annuì. […] Sapere che all'atto che avevo sempre compiuto come semplice dimostrazione d'affetto assegnava un significato importante in quanto segno di "amore profondo" mi turbava. [...] Un problema restava però: come ficcare in bocca all'amata qualcosa che riteneva "sporco"? <> aveva detto: forse secondo lui una donna non provava lo stesso disgusto di un uomo per il pene, però aveva anche ammesso di sentirsi amato proprio perché glielo prendevano in bocca nonostante fosse "sporco". Non solo: stando a lui una donna lo prende in bocca a un uomo solo se lo ama davvero , quindi godeva fino in fondo soltanto considerando sporchi sia la donna che il pene. Possibile che fosse un piacere sadico quello che gli regalava la fellatio? […] A un certo punto toccava a me. Guidata dalla sua mano, mi avvicinai con il viso al pene, semiturgido. Rimasi senza fiato: di colpo mi apparve come una cosa sporca.
RIFLESSIONE SULLA NORMALITA […] Come se andare a letto con le donne fosse una prova do normalità. Uno come lui, che considerava il pene "sporco" eppure non esitava a ficcarlo in bocca a una donna, uno che odiava gli uomini eppure sosteneva di preferirli alle donne, pieno di pregiudizi, visioni distorte, sentimento contradditori, si allontanava di molto dagli standard. D'accordo, io avrò anche avuto un corpo anomalo, ma in fondo chi poteva stabilire cos'era normale e cosa non lo era?
ALTRE "Sei spaventato, sì? Guarda che l'amore non fa differenze di sesso" "[...] sentivo che lui reprimeva con tutte le sue forze un violento desiderio. Se smettesse di controllarlo e lo lasciasse sfogare sarebbe terribile, pensavo, e quando in seguito l'aveva finalmente rivelato, mi ero spaventata da morire".
"<>"
"Conobbi il dolore che si prova capendo di aver fatto soffrire qualcuno senza essersene resi conto, conobbi la rabbia che nasce dentro rendendosi conto che averlo compreso non prova la propria redenzione, e non impedirà, in futuro, di far soffrire qualcuno allo stesso modo".
"Ero dunque fredda e insensibile per natura? Alla gente non bastava l'amicizia che dimostravo: il mio sentimento non li soddisfaceva, ne pretendevano ancora di più. […] Ecco il nocciolo della questione: perché gli altri non erano come me? […] Comunque rimaneva il fatto che i miei sentimento non si trasmettevano agli altri, e questo mi angustiava. Cosa si aspettavano da me?"
This book caught my eye when I was importing the catalog record from OCLC. The subject code 650 was Penis fiction. Intrigued, I read the dust jacket, which described this as a tale of a young woman who wakes up one morning to find her big toe has become a penis. This creates many changes in her life, and she sets off exploring her sexuality and learns quite a bit about herself in the process.
I really enjoyed this bizarre novel. Warning: it's not the kind of book you want to read while eating food, multi-tasking, or hoping to get "in the mood". The reader needs to have an open mind, and those hoping for some sort of pornographic lesbian fantasy will be extremely disappointed. The sex scenes are often very disturbing and violent, and the complex and conflicted emotional lives of the characters are firmly entwined with their sexual irregularities.
Some of the more colorful characters in this book include a blind, teenage pianist with a unique perspective of the world and human relationships, a woman with teeth in her vagina, a man with a siamese twin's penis protruding from his stomach, a man whose eyeballs fall out when he climaxes, and a beautiful woman who breaks out into itchy, unsightly rashes whereever her body comes in contact with someone else's fluids. Plus many more! But even by listing them like this, I am sensationalizing and defining them by their sexual characteristics. It's hard to separate the characters from their unique physical qualities, but this story is a success because it explores the emotional realm of human relationships when what is usually private and taboo is put on display for all.
The X-Men of absurdist erotism. I was skeptical as to whether or not the length of the book would remain consistent with the strength of the premise, and for the most part it did, getting only a bit repetitive toward the end. I only wish more of Matsuura's work was translated into English so that I could experience what else has come of her imaginings.
Pour un livre qui "interroge la féminité" et "libère la sexualité féminine" (termes exacts de ma quatrième de couverture), il faudra m'indiquer à quelle page ça commence, parce que j'en ai lu 294 et j'ai pas trouvé.
De l'homophobie, de la banalisation du viol, et du non-épanouissement de la sexualité féminine, ça il y en a, dès la première page.
-J'ai recensé plus de 30 remarques homophobes en moins de 300 pages. Et des remarques vraiment hard, du genre "les lesbiennes je les touche pas avec un bâton", "les pédés sont dégueulasses". Les gens qui ont mis 3, 4 ou 5 étoiles, vous avez 70 ans ou vous avez de la merde dans les yeux ?
-Shunji, qui est un pianiste aveugle, aborde Kazumi en lui faisant des attouchements (non-consentis) parce que c'est sa manière de "fraterniser" (oui, c'est le terme exact employé). Shunji pense que c'est NORMAL parce que depuis des années, dans son milieu scolaire puis professionnel, il s'est fait molester par des hommes et des femmes de son entourage, qui lui ont inculqué que c'était pour fraterniser. Shunji a donc totalement intégré le viol comme une norme sociale ET REPRODUIT ce comportement sur les autres (aka Kazumi, en l'espèce, mais selon Chisato il fait ça avec toutes les femmes ET KAZUMI TROUVE CA ATTENDRISSANT). "oui mais c'est pour dénoncer blablablabla" me direz vous. NON, l'expérience sexuelle de Shunji est ENCENSÉE ET ADMIRÉE à travers tout le bouquin alors qu'il a littéralement été victime de multiples viols et est lui-même un prédateur sexuel en conséquence.
-Kazumi se fait littéralement violer par Chisato (rapport par surprise puisque Kazumi dormait, puis rapport forcé car elle se réveille, exprime clairement son non-consentement, et Chisato continue). Ce viol est ensuite qualifié de "quasi-viol" M D R et tout son entourage minimise la situation. Shunji, la personne avec laquelle elle doit littéralement se marier, hausse les épaules et dit "oh tkt c'est juste le caractère de Chisato, elle est comme ça. L'entourage de Kazumi lui fait tellement bien intégrer que ce rapport n'était pas un viol, qu'elle même quelques pages plus loin considère que c'est une "aventure cocasse".
-Le roman est censé traiter de la liberté sexuelle de la femme, de sa libération, de son épanouissement. Pourtant, Kazumi quitte son mec pour tomber immédiatement dans les bras d'un autre, et n'est heureuse sexuellement que quand elle est dans une relation stable avec un homme. Chisato, qui est volage, est taxée de fille facile, de prostituée, de fille dégueulasse et pas digne de confiance, pour la seule raison qu'elle vit librement sa sexualité (un peu trop parce qu'elle recourt ensuite au viol mais c'est + loin dans le récit). C'est quoi la morale ? Femme soumets toi ? Ou : la femme qui aime le sexe devient forcément une violeuse débauchée ?
Je voulais aller au bout de l'expérience pour voir jusqu'à quels retranchements l'auteure (qui n'est clairement pas du côté des femmes hein) irait, et si elle parviendrait à retourner la situation et à proposer une réflexion intéressante. Mais la torture d'un chaton pendant 3 pages à été le point de non-retour pour moi.
I took a gamble with this one, hoping its ridiculous premise would be made compelling by good writing (after all, it did win one or two prestigious literary awards in Japan). To my chagrin, it reads as if it were written by an adolescent who just discovered sexuality and finds its components unequivocally hilarious.
I was very eager to read this book after hearing author Sayaka Murata speak about it in an interview. I'm sure that part of my disappointment stems from the expectations I'd created before reading it.
However, I will say I was very charmed by the first half of this novel. The main character was likeable, and quite funny (especially without meaning to be). I liked how Matsuura described her thinking, her relationships and the way she went about life. It was very relatable in the sense that I am around the same age Kazumi is in the novel.
It started to fall off for me when I realized that Shunji wasn't going anywhere. Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of his character and I liked his relationship with Kazumi. I was bothered because as soon as she exited her relationship with her boyfriend Masao, she started dating (and got engaged to!) a new man, Shunji, and their relationship seemed secure, until an even around 3/4 of the way through.
I had hoped that this experience, as well as Eiko's breakup with her boyfriend, would not result in them getting back together. Unfortunately, the ending proved me wrong. It was irritating to see these characters' wrongdoings written off as character quirks that could be looked past, when I didn't find that to be the case. Each character that had so much opportunity and promise for growth and development, was quickly stunted in a way that felt like the author was simply too tired to flesh a more thoughtful ending out.
To me, it felt as though Rieko Matsuura had a lot of dreams, ideas, and hopes for all the characters in this story and once those simply fell off at the end of this story, decided to end it in an easy way. Unfortunate for a book with such a catching premise as this.
I would have loved to see Kazumi's sexuality explored more as her own person figuring out herself rather than having a partner by her side to decide how she's feeling. Still, I enjoyed overall the reading experience and how this book made me think a bit more in terms of human sexuality.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I grabbed this book at the library book sale, intrigued by the premise of waking up with a penis for a big toe. As one character puts it, "If you change your body, your state of mind changes." This theme is repeated through many characters: the main character with her new toe penis, a M-to-F transgender, a man with an extra penis, and a blind man. The story challenges traditional sexual and gender roles and preconceptions. But instead of demonstrating this through the story, the majority of the book takes place inside the main character's analytical brain as she compares her feelings about a situation (homosexual sex, for example) to how she might have felt without her toe penis, how a man might feel, and how she should feel. Her over-thinking every interaction was tiring.
The main character doesn't make any decisions on her own and merely goes with what others have decided for her, a trait that made me angry with her and the supporting characters, and a big reason I disliked the book so much. Her toe penis and her hospitality is repeatedly taken advantage of, yet she finds a way to analyze why she is or should be okay with the situations.
Translated from the Japanese original "How to Extoll the Virtues of Fingerbanging in the Most Un-Fun Way Possible." Yes, this really IS a book about a woman whose toe becomes a penis, leading her to join a traveling Geek Love-style freaky sex show. But those expecting Katherine Dunn's (or even Haruki Murakami's) patentedly queasy mix of titillation, repulsion, and emotion should look elsewhere. Though each sentence just thrums with deviancy and sex shenanigans, this is NOT erotica, and at times reads almost like it's opposite: a Very Serious Treatise on Intimacy and the Hegemony of the Penis. Matsuura's ultimate argument -- that sex should never cause anxiety, but be celebrated endlessly and in all its forms -- is actually presented sophisticatedly and insightfully, with each chapter just begging for a spirited book club dissection (or undergrad gender studies seminar). It's unfortunate that the austere, clinical style (lost in translation perhaps?) makes this tough slog of a read so difficult to recommend.
La premessa mi ha intrigato fin dalla prima lettura: Kazumi si sveglia e al posto dell'alluce ha un pene, proprio come in una sorta di sogno premonitore della sera prima. Kazumi si rapporta con il suo alluce-pene con vigilanza, senza un gran trasporto, all'inizio se non con imbarazzo, ma man mano che le persone che incontra conoscono il suo alluce-pene, il rapporto cambia, fino ad all'arrivo in scena del "Flower Circus", formato da persone che, come Kazumi, hanno genitali particolari.
Non è un libro porno, attenzione, ma un libro che riflette sulla sessualità, sia verso l'altro (eterosessualità, omosessualità...), sia verso sè stessi, nel capire come mentalità femminile e maschile possano convivere nella stessa persona e fa riflettere molto come questo bilancio ying-yang venga percepito in maniera diversa dalle persone.
Has the particular, somewhat aloof style of writing I've noted in most of post-modern Japanese literature (at least in translation). Certainly an interesting premise and a curious setting.
What the fuck did I just read ? DNF, j'abandonne un peu avant 50%. Notez que ça fait plus de 250 pages, j'ai fait honneur au livre.
C'est l'histoire d'une étudiante un peu candide qui se réveille un matin avec un pénis à la place du gros orteil droit et qui se lance dans une espèce de découverte des relations sexuelles en mode analytique : "est-ce du lesbianisme si elle pénètre avec son pénis d'orteil, qui est un organe masculin, une autre femme" et "est-ce de l'homosexualité si on homme y pratique une fellation ?" Elle se prend beaucoup la tête et semble de parler et ne rencontrer que des gens qui n'ont pas de vie, pas de jobs, pas de passions, pas de sujets de conversation à part le sexe.
Le fait qu'elle refuse de qualifier de viol le fait qu'une femme utilise son pénis d'orteil pendant qu'elle-même dort m'a passablement agacée. Ils disent "un quasi viol". C'est quoi ça, un "quasi" viol ? Dites les termes !
Ça débat beaucoup dans sa tête, et en buvant du thé avec d'autres gens, mais il ne se passe pas grand chose.
Quand je lis dans les autres avis que par la suite, on découvre des vagins pourvus de dentitions et autres bizarreries un peu gores, je décide d'arrêter là.
Je vois l'intérêt pour débattre du féminisme, de la sexualisation des un·es et des autres, de l'interrogation sur les rapports genrés dans nos sociétés (quoi que la société japonaise a ses propres codes —cf cette histoire de viol qui n'est pas reconnu comme tel—), mais je trouve aussi que c'est vraiment, trop long, trop lent, et sans réelle intrigue. A un moment, il faut qu'il y ait des enjeux, parce que sinon, je m'ennuie.
Impossible de dépasser les 200 pages de ce livre qui en fait 650 et m'avait pourtant été recommandé. Histoire dont la prémisse absurde (une jeune femme se réveille un jour avec un pénis à la place de l'orteil) reste inexpliquée et dont la protagoniste n'essaye pas de comprendre l'existence. Peu de personnages (environ 4-5 arrivés à 200 pages), peu développés (quel travail fait la protagoniste ?), et souvent homophobes. On n'oublie de parler d'une amie de la protagoniste qui s'est suicidée. Beaucoup d'expressions désuètes (faute à la traduction du japonais). Les seuls mentions de traditions japonaises et explications par le traducteur sont intéressantes. Franchement pas un bon moment.
Au début très enthousiaste, j'ai vite déchanté. Est-ce une traduction maladroite ou l'écriture est-elle aussi mauvaise dans la version originale ? Si le fond est subjectif, il faut quand même reconnaître que le roman est souvent problématique sur la question du consentement. En revanche j'ai apprécié les notes de bas de page, très instructives.
So amazingly fire. Really weird, but I feel like it needed to be for what it was dealing with. My only qualm with it was it felt ~100 pages longer than it needed to be, and jumped around to several major plot points rather randomly, but I never felt like I wasn't enjoying it as a result.
The set-up of this book is simply amazing. A normal, average, straight woman wakes up one day to find that her big toe has transformed into a fully functional penis. The surreal, unexplained change sets into motion a journey of self-discovery that inevitably involves a lot of strange sexual adventures. It sounds like the set-up for a bawdy novel filled with gratuitous sex scenes, but The Apprenticeship Of Big Toe P isn't. It's surreal and elegant, and definitely not for easily-scandalized minds. If you're looking for: -surreal, semi-magical realism fiction -an unconventional journey of queer self-discovery and sexual awakening -a cerebral outlook on sex scenes
this book is for you.
The protagonist, Kazumi, at the start of the novel is trapped in an unhappy life. Her best friend, Yoko, recently committed suicide, and her boyfriend is an asshole. She has no friends left now that Yoko is gone, and even her work is in jeopardy, since she was a partner in an agency Yoko herself had created. Most of all, however, Kazumi is tormented by the idea that Yoko was in love with her, and that she killed herself out of a misplaced desire to have Kazumi notice her. Kazumi is introverted and quite cold in her affections, to the point that she herself sometimes doubts she loves anyone in her life. She definitely doesn't love her boyfriend, but she can't admit to herself whether she loved Yoko or not, either. She has very little insight in all of her feelings – and that's something she's forced to deal with when her big toe changes into a penis. Her boyfriend is disgusted by it in a violent way that she doesn't understand. More than anything, she finds it something curious and to be explored, if a little disquieting. After leaving her boyfriend, Kazumi sets forth in a journey of sexual self-discovery that lands her first in the arms of a blind bisexual pianist, Shunji, and then in a drama-filled freak show that employs “sexual deviants” (some of them with conditions as surreal as Kazumi's, others more medically plausible).
This is a very bizarre novel!! But I really liked it! It is about a young woman who wakes up one normal morning to find a penis instead of her big toe! From then on her normal mundane sex life as well as her whole life take out an abnormal path! Her life starts revolving around strange sexual encounters. She befriends the Flower Show which is made up of people who also suffer from sexual abnormalities. Although this book is about sex and penises it rarely does anything to get the reader in the mood! On the contrary it describes the sexual encounters and the thoughts clouding Kazumi's thoughts (the protagonist) in such a striking plain manner that it detaches the reader from the thrill of sex immediately. The novel is meant to place the reader in an unemotional position watching Kazumi's emergence from naivete to adulthood. Almost the whole book (except the Prologue & Epilogue) is written from Kazumi's point of view so as the book progresses the majority of Kazumi's thoughts and reflections start affecting the reader's thoughts about sexuality. Also the enlargement of sexual bodily abnormalities by the author place the reader in a position to reflect about ordinary sexuality. After finishing the book, the reader cannot just go on living with the same perspective, or lack of perspective, of sexuality as a normal mundane act.
Maybe it's because I'm so young or maybe it's because I'm weird like that, but I was actually really happy to see a book where the main character's thought process reflected mine. I think about things like crazy sometimes and it's easy for people to look at me and say that I'm not reacting, but I am; I just don't show it.
That said, there were two things that bothered me about this book. 1) The translator decided to refer to Masumi (the not-really-transwoman) as "he" throughout the text, while in the Japanese the pronoun use was avoided. If you read to the end, though, you realize it's not really that Masumi is a transwoman but an extremely devoted cis-gendered male drag queen. 2) For all its denouncements of homophobia, the ending of the book seemed only to restore the heteronormative constructs the characters sought to escape. The only difference was the reasoning and the thinking--in my mind, that's enough, to realize that you wouldn't have had a relationship with Yoko not because she's a woman, but because you don't have a sexual interest in her. It might not be for some people.
My favorite passage would have to be the one where the narrator deconstructs the idea of blow jobs as pleasurable and wonders whether her boyfriend really thinks his penis is dirty.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
As much as people shit on this book for perceiving it as an "adolescent" writings of someone who just started their journey of sexuality, I like this book and I think the premise is incredibly new and makes it a thinking piece. People's qualms about this book is that the protagonist is passive. Letting things happen to her. She doesn't have agency. As much as this statement is true, I believe this specific viewpoint can't capture a holistic understanding of this story and reduces the Japanese cultural context and the author's background. It looks at the story through what the reader has already deemed as the norm in their life.
The story IS about her learning about sexuality and gender. This is a new concept to her. So for her thought processed to be "adolescent" is kind of a requirement lmao. For her, the toe was a catalyst for her journey into understanding her queer identity.
There are a few things that annoyed me about this book - things that almost dragged it down to two stars even though I enjoyed reading it. Firstly, while it's quite well written and quite well translated, I couldn't escape the feeling that it was horribly edited. Words were missing, cliches that shouldn't be there at all were left in (lots of them, occasionally bordering on Memoirs of a Geisha clicheness) and the translation struggled to find a coherent voice for any of the characters.
This could also be a fault in the writing though, which is deeply flawed in a few places. The playwright is too obviously a vehicle for the writer's feminism - he is too clearly a caricature of phalli-centric heteronormative male-ness, and *spoiler alert* the way in which Shunji and Kazumi get back together is not only inconsistent with the characters, but also entirely unbelievably absurd. I hurt inside a little bit when I found out he could suddenly see. It's odd - the vagina dentata didn't hurt me, but the cliches did.
(although I just made the mistake of googling 'vagina dentata' ... ouch!)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Say Gregor Samsa awoke that morning not as a cockroach but as a young, mild-mannered, Japanese woman, wholly unremarkable except that the big toe on her right foot transformed overnight into a penis—so she flees her homophobic fiancé, falls in love with a bisexual blind pianist and joins a troupe of sexually deformed misfits whose live performances conjure images of Sade and Bataille. Yet somehow this occurs within a sweetly unsentimental bildungsroman that reads more like Francine Prose than Katherine Dunn. A huge critical and commercial success in Japan, Matsuura has crafted a really exquisite novel of identity and ideas. The main problems I had with the book were the clunky dialogue and the occasionally didactic tone (and obviously I don't know if this is a translation problem or just a problem.)
I made it through Big Toe P without feeling disappointed. It was odd/steamy enough to keep me intrigued yet it was also exploratory in the sense that the overall tone and presentation of the book felt (appropriately) foreign. The surreal premise was matched by a ever- rational, almost draining play-by-play--a moment-to-moment update of the characters' dynamics of mutual attractions, conflicts, etc. I'm sure that there is a cultural underpinning to her tight adherence her mode of writing I hope to see Matsuura's book about dog love published in English soon.
What can I say about this book? It's a story about a girl whose big toe turns into a penis. Having the sense of humor of a 13 year old boy, I thought this was going to be hilarious. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised by its deep and abiding pathos and the questions it raises about sexual identity and gender perception. n.b. if you have any qualms about sex and or deformities this book is not for you. It is odd. It is perverse. It is Japanese.
Crazy -- part erotic, part social commentary. I'm not at all sure who I would recommend this to. A story of a young Japanese woman who wakes up to find her big toe has become a functioning penis is just not for everyone. Hidden in the bizarre story are some insights into sexuality and relationships that take this beyond erotica.
Although the ending was a complete disaster (actually, the last 100 pages are kind of a trainwreck), this book was super interesting, and very fun as well. There are a lot of fascinating reflections about sex, gender, love, relationships and how our identity revolves around these issues, and the prose wasn't bad at all, often even witty and dynamic. Booktube review to come.
from the McNally Jackson site: The novel is a strange exploration of gender and control, the premise being simply that a woman wakes up to discover that one of her toes has become a penis. Yes, that is correct. It reads like a more sexually engaged Murakami, and is funny, too.