What do you think?
Rate this book
Palavras Que Aprendi Com a Chuva
Uma história comovente onde só o amor pode nos guiar pelas tempestades da vida.
Romance de estreia da autora Asha Lemmie, Palavras que Aprendi com a Chuva se passa no Japão do pós-Segunda Guerra Mundial e gira em torno da jovem Nori, filha de uma nobre japonesa e um soldado negro. Abordando temas como identidade, pertencimento e racismo, a obra retrata com extrema sensibilidade as dificuldades enfrentadas pela protagonista, que supera os desafios com coragem e perseverança.
Abandonada pela mãe, Nori sofre nas mãos de uma avó abusiva e negligente. Por fim, encontra consolo na amizade com um rapaz chamado Akira, que a ajuda a descobrir sua identidade e a superar os traumas do passado.
Palavras que Aprendi com a Chuva é uma leitura emocionante e envolvente, que cativa o leitor do início ao fim. Acompanhamos Nori em uma jornada dolorosa e bela, cheia de desafios, lutas e amor. A autora tece a narrativa com maestria, envolvendo o leitor em cada página, cada emoção, cada detalhe. É impossível não sentir a dor e a solidão de Nori, bem como a angústia de sua busca por aceitação e afeto.
Poético e sensível, Palavras que Aprendi com a Chuva foi aclamado pela crítica e pelo público, conquistou muitos leitores e ganhou grande destaque no Goodreads e na Amazon com milhares de resenhas. “Cheio de mistério, lirismo, melancolia e aventura, Palavras que Aprendi com a Chuva passa voando, mas permanece na memória muito tempo depois. Quem já perdeu um amigo — ou teve a sorte de encontrar uma família — vai adorar esta linda história”, afirmou Malala Yousafzai, ativista ganhadora do Prêmio Nobel da Paz
Abordando a cultura japonesa e suas tradições, especialmente em relação às mulheres e à hierarquia social, o livro traz vívidas descrições e foi comparado a outros romances históricos de sucesso, como Memórias de uma Gueixa, de Arthur Golden, e Pachinko, Min Jin Lee. Com sua prosa hábil e fascinante, a autora nos transporta para o Japão de seus personagens. É como se estivéssemos caminhando pelas ruas de Quioto, sentindo a chuva cair sobre nossos rostos.
Palavras que Aprendi com a Chuva é um romance que toca o coração e a alma, nos lembrando da importância do amor, da aceitação e da esperança. Uma história inesquecível, que há de perdurar na memória como uma lembrança ao mesmo tempo doce e dolorosa, mas acima de tudo, inspiradora.
Romance de estreia da autora Asha Lemmie, Palavras que Aprendi com a Chuva se passa no Japão do pós-Segunda Guerra Mundial e gira em torno da jovem Nori, filha de uma nobre japonesa e um soldado negro. Abordando temas como identidade, pertencimento e racismo, a obra retrata com extrema sensibilidade as dificuldades enfrentadas pela protagonista, que supera os desafios com coragem e perseverança.
Abandonada pela mãe, Nori sofre nas mãos de uma avó abusiva e negligente. Por fim, encontra consolo na amizade com um rapaz chamado Akira, que a ajuda a descobrir sua identidade e a superar os traumas do passado.
Palavras que Aprendi com a Chuva é uma leitura emocionante e envolvente, que cativa o leitor do início ao fim. Acompanhamos Nori em uma jornada dolorosa e bela, cheia de desafios, lutas e amor. A autora tece a narrativa com maestria, envolvendo o leitor em cada página, cada emoção, cada detalhe. É impossível não sentir a dor e a solidão de Nori, bem como a angústia de sua busca por aceitação e afeto.
Poético e sensível, Palavras que Aprendi com a Chuva foi aclamado pela crítica e pelo público, conquistou muitos leitores e ganhou grande destaque no Goodreads e na Amazon com milhares de resenhas. “Cheio de mistério, lirismo, melancolia e aventura, Palavras que Aprendi com a Chuva passa voando, mas permanece na memória muito tempo depois. Quem já perdeu um amigo — ou teve a sorte de encontrar uma família — vai adorar esta linda história”, afirmou Malala Yousafzai, ativista ganhadora do Prêmio Nobel da Paz
Abordando a cultura japonesa e suas tradições, especialmente em relação às mulheres e à hierarquia social, o livro traz vívidas descrições e foi comparado a outros romances históricos de sucesso, como Memórias de uma Gueixa, de Arthur Golden, e Pachinko, Min Jin Lee. Com sua prosa hábil e fascinante, a autora nos transporta para o Japão de seus personagens. É como se estivéssemos caminhando pelas ruas de Quioto, sentindo a chuva cair sobre nossos rostos.
Palavras que Aprendi com a Chuva é um romance que toca o coração e a alma, nos lembrando da importância do amor, da aceitação e da esperança. Uma história inesquecível, que há de perdurar na memória como uma lembrança ao mesmo tempo doce e dolorosa, mas acima de tudo, inspiradora.
368 pages, Hardcover
First published September 1, 2020
4602 people are currently reading
64719 people want to read
About the author
Asha Lemmie
5 books862 followersAsha Lemmie is the New York Times bestselling author of Fifty Words For Rain and The Wildest Sun. She holds a BA in English Literature from Boston College and is currently a graduate student at Columbia University. She resides in New York City but can frequently be found wandering. Asha writes historical fiction that focuses on bringing unique perspectives to life.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 5,371 reviews
September 19, 2020
I wanted to love this book but came away from it unsatisfied and disappointed. It seems that I am in the minority on this as most readers seem to love it. I have a lot of personal knowledge of Japan because I spent ten years growing up in the country and my mother is Japanese american. At first I thought my problems with the book were unique to me and my knowledge of the language and culture and I was being too harsh. Lemmie overall does a good job with the Japanese vocabulary that she uses but there are some errors that are jarring. A woman would never refer to an older brother as aniki, although the more often used Onee chan is realistic. Lemmie also has Akira call Nori imouto which would never be used in dialogue in that way. The other issues I had were with cultural differences; the Japanese aren't physically demonstrative at all (especially in that time period) so the scenes with hugging or hand-holding felt false. The plot while interesting is very soap-opera like, moving quickly and without a lot of detail and development. Most of the characters are not fleshed out and are sometimes caricature-like. I found parts of the ending interesting (about the car accident) and other parts altogether unsatisying (would Nori really stay in Japan after all she has endured at the hands of her family? would she give up the love she found in London?). Despite the weaknesses of the novel, Lemmie deserves praise for tackling a little-addressed subject and creating an interesting (though far fetched) story. Clearly many other readers absolutely loved her book, I am just not one of them.
July 21, 2021
TRAGEDY PORN FOR HISTORICAL READERS
Too often, people mistakenly believe that the analysis for “how many terrible things befall a protagonist?” is one and the same as “how much merit does this book have?” The more tragic the circumstances, the more “literary” the novel must be. There is beauty in suffering, many believe—especially if the sufferer is a woman. Because a corollary to this misconception is this: a woman’s tragic life is a stand-in for her own character growth. Women are forged by adversity, etc.
Fifty Words for Rain is a beautiful, wonderfully written novel. It is also 100% unabashed tragedy porn. It is nearly 500 pages of watching protagonist Nori suffer through every loss, torture, and deprivation imaginable—beatings, confinement, chemical “skin whitening treatments,” slavery, rape, loss of family members, grief, near-death experiences, racism, xenophobia. You name it, Lemmie probably puts her character through it.
It is so beautifully told, this morbid story of a young girl’s ceaselessly calamitous life. So many critics have praised the author’s prose and the “plot twists” (which are not surprising once you come to understand this book feeds on morbid disasters). I wonder, though, if any have looked beneath the surface and really seen that this is a shocking book built on a nonexistent character arc and some questionable portrayals of a culture the author has no first-hand experience with.
This book is set in Japan in the 1950s and 1960s. Asha Lemmie is not Japanese, though I completely credit that she loves and respects the culture. Yet I wonder if she has the range. Is this depiction of Japan appropriate, or does it feed into our Western stereotypes? For instance: at one point, Nori is sold as a slave to a whorehouse/geisha house. This felt gratuitous and sensationalized. I am not Japanese, so I cannot speak here, but I wonder why Lemmie, a Black American woman, felt qualified to write a story of a Black Japanese woman suffering on account of her identity—and if she considered the consequences of portraying Japan as a country full of immoral racists.
More concerning to me is the protagonist, Nori, and her development over the course of Fifty Words for Rain. The first 70% of the novel is merely Nori suffering at the whims of those around her—not least her elder half-brother, Akira, for whom she has a near-incestuous love and obsession for, though it is not returned: he treats her horribly up until the night he dies; obviously, any love and tenderness for Nori must quickly be gotten rid of. Lemmie inflicts loss after loss upon Nori, in such a way that the sequence of events seems clearly manufactured and baseless. Throughout the text, Nori’s defining characteristics are her blind love for her brother and her ability to “rise up” from yet another tragedy. This is not character growth; this is not a personality.
And then the end…oh boy, the end. In summary: Nori abandons her fiancé and newborn son in order to take over her family’s corrupt, semi-legal business empire in Kyoto; she agrees to marry a Japanese nobleman and become the ideal model of womanhood, all at the behest of her horrible grandmother (who attempted to kill her multiple times, sold her into slavery, and was complicit in the murder of her beloved half-brother). I hated it, because it just seemed more evidence that Lemmie valued her protagonist’s suffering over any kind of catharsis. Is Nori going to be happy in her role as Japanese crime-boss? Nope! Not at all—the book makes it clear she will be miserable. So what is this? Lemmie truly expects to put her character through a lifetime’s worth of adversity, have her escape and find a happy future…only to have Nori willingly choose to revictimize herself yet again?
Make it make sense!
The only way this works is if we accept that Nori’s entire personality is her obsession with her brother and if we find this to be admirable rather than pathetic. By assuming the role of head of the family, she is doing what Akira cannot do, since he was murdered for being close to her. I mean…fine. If you think having the main character of your book make self-desctructive choices out of grief and guilt is a sign of Deep Complexity and Character Growth, then I don’t know what to tell you. Wear it if you want to.
The frustrating thing about all of this is that Fifty Words for Rain is actually quite good! Lemmie’s writing is evocative, and her flair for tragedy is complemented well by her perfect timing and grasp of emotion. The first 70% of the novel is a tragedy fest, but you have hope throughout that Nori’s life will change for the better. I truly cannot express how much I enjoyed the vast majority of this book (though, again: would love to have some Japanese readers weigh in on this depiction of post-war Japan). The end obviously yanks the rug out from under readers in a way that is designed to be shocking rather than sensical, and that’s where I was lost. Up until then: it was great!
Look, if you’re in the market for a story about Sad Events that’s going to make you Feel Things, Fifty Words for Rain is probably the best you can do. I know a lot of readers love to read tragedy porn (*cough* A Little Life *cough*). However, I question if this was tragedy for a good and transformative purpose, or tragedy for the sake of tragedy. I’m inclined to think the latter.
📌 . Blog | Review Database | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads
Too often, people mistakenly believe that the analysis for “how many terrible things befall a protagonist?” is one and the same as “how much merit does this book have?” The more tragic the circumstances, the more “literary” the novel must be. There is beauty in suffering, many believe—especially if the sufferer is a woman. Because a corollary to this misconception is this: a woman’s tragic life is a stand-in for her own character growth. Women are forged by adversity, etc.
Fifty Words for Rain is a beautiful, wonderfully written novel. It is also 100% unabashed tragedy porn. It is nearly 500 pages of watching protagonist Nori suffer through every loss, torture, and deprivation imaginable—beatings, confinement, chemical “skin whitening treatments,” slavery, rape, loss of family members, grief, near-death experiences, racism, xenophobia. You name it, Lemmie probably puts her character through it.
It is so beautifully told, this morbid story of a young girl’s ceaselessly calamitous life. So many critics have praised the author’s prose and the “plot twists” (which are not surprising once you come to understand this book feeds on morbid disasters). I wonder, though, if any have looked beneath the surface and really seen that this is a shocking book built on a nonexistent character arc and some questionable portrayals of a culture the author has no first-hand experience with.
This book is set in Japan in the 1950s and 1960s. Asha Lemmie is not Japanese, though I completely credit that she loves and respects the culture. Yet I wonder if she has the range. Is this depiction of Japan appropriate, or does it feed into our Western stereotypes? For instance: at one point, Nori is sold as a slave to a whorehouse/geisha house. This felt gratuitous and sensationalized. I am not Japanese, so I cannot speak here, but I wonder why Lemmie, a Black American woman, felt qualified to write a story of a Black Japanese woman suffering on account of her identity—and if she considered the consequences of portraying Japan as a country full of immoral racists.
More concerning to me is the protagonist, Nori, and her development over the course of Fifty Words for Rain. The first 70% of the novel is merely Nori suffering at the whims of those around her—not least her elder half-brother, Akira, for whom she has a near-incestuous love and obsession for, though it is not returned: he treats her horribly up until the night he dies; obviously, any love and tenderness for Nori must quickly be gotten rid of. Lemmie inflicts loss after loss upon Nori, in such a way that the sequence of events seems clearly manufactured and baseless. Throughout the text, Nori’s defining characteristics are her blind love for her brother and her ability to “rise up” from yet another tragedy. This is not character growth; this is not a personality.
And then the end…oh boy, the end. In summary: Nori abandons her fiancé and newborn son in order to take over her family’s corrupt, semi-legal business empire in Kyoto; she agrees to marry a Japanese nobleman and become the ideal model of womanhood, all at the behest of her horrible grandmother (who attempted to kill her multiple times, sold her into slavery, and was complicit in the murder of her beloved half-brother). I hated it, because it just seemed more evidence that Lemmie valued her protagonist’s suffering over any kind of catharsis. Is Nori going to be happy in her role as Japanese crime-boss? Nope! Not at all—the book makes it clear she will be miserable. So what is this? Lemmie truly expects to put her character through a lifetime’s worth of adversity, have her escape and find a happy future…only to have Nori willingly choose to revictimize herself yet again?
Make it make sense!
The only way this works is if we accept that Nori’s entire personality is her obsession with her brother and if we find this to be admirable rather than pathetic. By assuming the role of head of the family, she is doing what Akira cannot do, since he was murdered for being close to her. I mean…fine. If you think having the main character of your book make self-desctructive choices out of grief and guilt is a sign of Deep Complexity and Character Growth, then I don’t know what to tell you. Wear it if you want to.
The frustrating thing about all of this is that Fifty Words for Rain is actually quite good! Lemmie’s writing is evocative, and her flair for tragedy is complemented well by her perfect timing and grasp of emotion. The first 70% of the novel is a tragedy fest, but you have hope throughout that Nori’s life will change for the better. I truly cannot express how much I enjoyed the vast majority of this book (though, again: would love to have some Japanese readers weigh in on this depiction of post-war Japan). The end obviously yanks the rug out from under readers in a way that is designed to be shocking rather than sensical, and that’s where I was lost. Up until then: it was great!
Look, if you’re in the market for a story about Sad Events that’s going to make you Feel Things, Fifty Words for Rain is probably the best you can do. I know a lot of readers love to read tragedy porn (*cough* A Little Life *cough*). However, I question if this was tragedy for a good and transformative purpose, or tragedy for the sake of tragedy. I’m inclined to think the latter.
📌 . Blog | Review Database | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads
September 15, 2020
If you enjoy cheesy soap operas with twists and turns that defy belief, then this is your book. It reads smoothly for the most part and has all the elements of human emotions that the author can fit in.
If you know anything about Japan, this book is going to aggravate the heck out of you. There is a reason why they say "Write what you know." Or at least do thorough research. There are so many mistakes, impossibilities, careless details and tropes in this book that I gave up on making a list. It's an insult to the culture of Japan to be so misrepresented in this book. For comparison's sake, go read Emma Donoghue's new book The Pull of the Stars (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/5...) which is also a historical novel and is a model on how to do it right.
Mostly, this is an insult to the Hafu Black and Japanese folks that I know. They all have stories. Their parents have stories. There are real stories that need to be told. I cringe when I think of anyone reading this book and thinking that they've learned anything about Japan or what it is like to be half-Japanese.
I hope the author will stick to what she knows going forward, or learn how to do authentic research. Meanwhile, it's as if she found a template for writing a book and simply plugged in some details. This book could have been set anywhere; it says nothing about Japan.
I will give kudos to the use of the Japanese phrases. I'd say they are about 80% correct which is more than most books that use token Japanese words here and there for a touch of "authenticity." But, a dictionary won't solve all issues. Hint: Yes, in Kyoto and most of Japan, a sister will address her older brother as お兄さん. But, No, he will not address her as "妹."
If you know anything about Japan, this book is going to aggravate the heck out of you. There is a reason why they say "Write what you know." Or at least do thorough research. There are so many mistakes, impossibilities, careless details and tropes in this book that I gave up on making a list. It's an insult to the culture of Japan to be so misrepresented in this book. For comparison's sake, go read Emma Donoghue's new book The Pull of the Stars (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/5...) which is also a historical novel and is a model on how to do it right.
Mostly, this is an insult to the Hafu Black and Japanese folks that I know. They all have stories. Their parents have stories. There are real stories that need to be told. I cringe when I think of anyone reading this book and thinking that they've learned anything about Japan or what it is like to be half-Japanese.
I hope the author will stick to what she knows going forward, or learn how to do authentic research. Meanwhile, it's as if she found a template for writing a book and simply plugged in some details. This book could have been set anywhere; it says nothing about Japan.
I will give kudos to the use of the Japanese phrases. I'd say they are about 80% correct which is more than most books that use token Japanese words here and there for a touch of "authenticity." But, a dictionary won't solve all issues. Hint: Yes, in Kyoto and most of Japan, a sister will address her older brother as お兄さん. But, No, he will not address her as "妹."
August 25, 2021
There are 50 words for rain, as Nori says to Akira once. Rain is a big deal for her:
Q:
“I like rain.”...
“That’s ridiculous. Nobody likes rain. Nobody ever says, ‘I wish it weren’t so sunny today.’”...
“You can’t hear sunshine from the attic,”
Q:
Harenochiame. Rain after a perfect, clear sky….
… hisame: cold rain, the kind that seeps into the air, and seeps into the house, and seeps into your bones. You can’t get warm no matter what you do. ...
Shinotsukuame. Relentless rain. Rain that would never stop. (c)
A great debut book on a God-awful topic. A bunch of them, actually.
Poor little Nori (an illegitimate daughter of a Japanese woman and an Afroamerican man) lives in the attic of her grandparents' house after her mom cuckoos her to them at just 8. She gets beaten, her skin bleached daily, spends all her time in a room in the attic…
Akira, her brother. Where did he get westernalized to all than extent? He could've walked out of some dorama set. Nevertheless, he gets things as interesting as they could get.
The okiya part - a lot like the other geisha stories. I wonder how much of it was inspired by Arthur Golden's 'Memoirs of a Geisha' and Mineko Iwasaki's 'Geisha, a life'. I'm sure this one's gonna be another of my favs.
Noah? Really?
Q:
“It is good for a woman to learn silence,” her mother always said. “If a woman knows nothing else, she should know how to be silent.” (c)
The issues with being an obedient girl (who would've guessed all the potential spectrum!):
Q:
“Promise me you will obey.”
The request caught her off guard. Not because it was unlike something her mother would say, but because not once in her life had Nori ever disobeyed. It didn’t seem like something that needed to be requested.
…
Promise me that you will obey in all things. Do not question. Do not fight. Do not resist. Do not think if thinking will lead you somewhere you ought not to be. Only smile and do as you are told. Only your life is more important than your obedience. Only the air you breathe. (c)
Q:
To please her grandmother was a feat that she longed to accomplish. In her mind, it was the most noble of quests. (c)
Good and obedient girls sometimes take daily chemical baths of bleach ('cause the MC is a girl of half-Afroamerican parentage and the grandparents from hell wanted her to be of lighter compexion). Just look at this:
Q:
It came quickly, the pain.
...
It was better to accept the tears, with as much grace and dignity as could be mustered. They would fall silently down her cheeks, constant and cool like a babbling brook.
…
Her left leg had a mottled purple burn on it that she had to hide with extra-long skirts, but she did not mind so much because the skin around the burn was wonderfully fair and bright. (c)
Q:
Dear God,
I’m sorry for my impertinence. I will make sure to ask Saotome-sensei what “impertinence” means so that I can make sure not to do it again. …
Her favorite thing about God was that He was the one person she was allowed to ask questions. In fact, this privilege delighted her so much that she hardly even minded that nobody answered her. (c)
Q:
She had to be patient. More importantly, she had to be deserving of her mother’s renewed interest. Somehow, she had to make herself more appealing than whatever it was her mother had left her for. (c)
They get beaten regularly and brainwashed into smth else:
Q:
“A girl must have discipline. … you are still too impertinent. Too bold in your ways. Like your whore mother.”
…
“You are good at your studies, but this is not so important. You lack poise and grace. I can hear your footsteps shaking the house, like a zou. We are royalty. We do not walk like rice farmers.”
...
Her grandmother’s voice went very low. “You are a cursed, wretched thing.”
The first blow with the spoon landed with shocking swiftness. (c)
Q:
Her abandonment has scarred her, her grandmother has brainwashed her, and she will always see something in the mirror that is not there. (c)
Geisha stuff:
Q:
You must become well versed in the art of conversation.”
“I didn’t know conversation was an art.”
Kiyomi wagged a finger. “For a woman, everything is an art. (c)
Q:
“I have poured tea, I have arranged flowers, I have danced and played the violin,” she goes down the list. “I have quite mastered the art of being useless wallpaper.” (c)
Interesting bits:
Q:
In that moment, she wished she could read every word ever written, in every language from sea to sea. Not being able to read those letters frustrated her to an extent she didn’t understand. (c)
Q:
She still had the pale blue satchel with the little silver clasp. She kept these two things in a far corner of the room so that she would always know where to find them at a moment’s notice. (c) A telling detail.
Q:
But her favorite thing, by far, was the half-moon-shaped window above her bed that overlooked the gardens... As far as Nori was concerned, she could see the entire world. (c)
Q:
For once, she was not shaking. There was no beating on earth that would make her regret what she had done. (c)
Q:
She would curl herself onto the couch and listen to him making paintings out of sound. … From these dead foreigners whose names she was slowly growing accustomed to, Nori was learning what it was to live a thousand lifetimes of joy and sorrow without ever leaving this house. (c)
Q:
All this time, she’d asked God for a gift. She hadn’t realized that she’d been living in one all along. (c)
Q:
I have never believed in anything but my own talent, death, and the ability of people to fall far short of expectations. (c)
Q:
I am still coming to understand, every day, what it is that makes her feel like mine. (c)
Q:
“If you get scared, think of some music,” he told her. “Think of it and you will feel safe.” (c)
Q:
I notice the stares, of course. I am sure she notices them too, but she never flinches. Sometimes she will turn and nod gently, and the offender will blush and scurry away. (c)
Q:
… that it’s always better to be the center of attention on your own terms. For God knows they will talk about you anyway. I know this, and I know it’s true because I’ve learned that I’m not nearly as stupid as everyone has always tried to make me believe. (c)
Q:
“You are my sun.” (c)
Q:
“I like rain.”...
“That’s ridiculous. Nobody likes rain. Nobody ever says, ‘I wish it weren’t so sunny today.’”...
“You can’t hear sunshine from the attic,”
Q:
Harenochiame. Rain after a perfect, clear sky….
… hisame: cold rain, the kind that seeps into the air, and seeps into the house, and seeps into your bones. You can’t get warm no matter what you do. ...
Shinotsukuame. Relentless rain. Rain that would never stop. (c)
A great debut book on a God-awful topic. A bunch of them, actually.
Poor little Nori (an illegitimate daughter of a Japanese woman and an Afroamerican man) lives in the attic of her grandparents' house after her mom cuckoos her to them at just 8. She gets beaten, her skin bleached daily, spends all her time in a room in the attic…
Akira, her brother. Where did he get westernalized to all than extent? He could've walked out of some dorama set. Nevertheless, he gets things as interesting as they could get.
The okiya part - a lot like the other geisha stories. I wonder how much of it was inspired by Arthur Golden's 'Memoirs of a Geisha' and Mineko Iwasaki's 'Geisha, a life'. I'm sure this one's gonna be another of my favs.
Noah? Really?
Doing that to him felt quite callouse, didn't it? Like he's a thing to be used and discarded...
Q:
“It is good for a woman to learn silence,” her mother always said. “If a woman knows nothing else, she should know how to be silent.” (c)
The issues with being an obedient girl (who would've guessed all the potential spectrum!):
Q:
“Promise me you will obey.”
The request caught her off guard. Not because it was unlike something her mother would say, but because not once in her life had Nori ever disobeyed. It didn’t seem like something that needed to be requested.
…
Promise me that you will obey in all things. Do not question. Do not fight. Do not resist. Do not think if thinking will lead you somewhere you ought not to be. Only smile and do as you are told. Only your life is more important than your obedience. Only the air you breathe. (c)
Q:
To please her grandmother was a feat that she longed to accomplish. In her mind, it was the most noble of quests. (c)
Good and obedient girls sometimes take daily chemical baths of bleach ('cause the MC is a girl of half-Afroamerican parentage and the grandparents from hell wanted her to be of lighter compexion). Just look at this:
Q:
It came quickly, the pain.
...
It was better to accept the tears, with as much grace and dignity as could be mustered. They would fall silently down her cheeks, constant and cool like a babbling brook.
…
Her left leg had a mottled purple burn on it that she had to hide with extra-long skirts, but she did not mind so much because the skin around the burn was wonderfully fair and bright. (c)
Q:
Dear God,
I’m sorry for my impertinence. I will make sure to ask Saotome-sensei what “impertinence” means so that I can make sure not to do it again. …
Her favorite thing about God was that He was the one person she was allowed to ask questions. In fact, this privilege delighted her so much that she hardly even minded that nobody answered her. (c)
Q:
She had to be patient. More importantly, she had to be deserving of her mother’s renewed interest. Somehow, she had to make herself more appealing than whatever it was her mother had left her for. (c)
They get beaten regularly and brainwashed into smth else:
Q:
“A girl must have discipline. … you are still too impertinent. Too bold in your ways. Like your whore mother.”
…
“You are good at your studies, but this is not so important. You lack poise and grace. I can hear your footsteps shaking the house, like a zou. We are royalty. We do not walk like rice farmers.”
...
Her grandmother’s voice went very low. “You are a cursed, wretched thing.”
The first blow with the spoon landed with shocking swiftness. (c)
Q:
Her abandonment has scarred her, her grandmother has brainwashed her, and she will always see something in the mirror that is not there. (c)
Geisha stuff:
Q:
You must become well versed in the art of conversation.”
“I didn’t know conversation was an art.”
Kiyomi wagged a finger. “For a woman, everything is an art. (c)
Q:
“I have poured tea, I have arranged flowers, I have danced and played the violin,” she goes down the list. “I have quite mastered the art of being useless wallpaper.” (c)
Interesting bits:
Q:
In that moment, she wished she could read every word ever written, in every language from sea to sea. Not being able to read those letters frustrated her to an extent she didn’t understand. (c)
Q:
She still had the pale blue satchel with the little silver clasp. She kept these two things in a far corner of the room so that she would always know where to find them at a moment’s notice. (c) A telling detail.
Q:
But her favorite thing, by far, was the half-moon-shaped window above her bed that overlooked the gardens... As far as Nori was concerned, she could see the entire world. (c)
Q:
For once, she was not shaking. There was no beating on earth that would make her regret what she had done. (c)
Q:
She would curl herself onto the couch and listen to him making paintings out of sound. … From these dead foreigners whose names she was slowly growing accustomed to, Nori was learning what it was to live a thousand lifetimes of joy and sorrow without ever leaving this house. (c)
Q:
All this time, she’d asked God for a gift. She hadn’t realized that she’d been living in one all along. (c)
Q:
I have never believed in anything but my own talent, death, and the ability of people to fall far short of expectations. (c)
Q:
I am still coming to understand, every day, what it is that makes her feel like mine. (c)
Q:
“If you get scared, think of some music,” he told her. “Think of it and you will feel safe.” (c)
Q:
I notice the stares, of course. I am sure she notices them too, but she never flinches. Sometimes she will turn and nod gently, and the offender will blush and scurry away. (c)
Q:
… that it’s always better to be the center of attention on your own terms. For God knows they will talk about you anyway. I know this, and I know it’s true because I’ve learned that I’m not nearly as stupid as everyone has always tried to make me believe. (c)
Q:
“You are my sun.” (c)
October 6, 2020
The number of times that the protagonist “bit her lip, drawing blood” I’m shocked that she had lips by the end of the novel...
Everything went downhill with the last quarter of the book. And the ending contradicted the entire character development. Also not a fan of the nearly incestuous relationship with her brother.
This book has many rave reviews; I just am not seeing it.
Everything went downhill with the last quarter of the book. And the ending contradicted the entire character development. Also not a fan of the nearly incestuous relationship with her brother.
This book has many rave reviews; I just am not seeing it.
February 21, 2021
I could easily come up with 50 words to describe this coming of age story and how it made me feel.
Instead I’ll do it in a few that quickly come to mind:
Traumatic. Enraging. Stunning. Enduring. Epic. Captivating.
It’s the early 1950’s and 8 year old Nori is abandoned at the front door of her grandparents in Kyoto.
She is a bastard child, an embarrassment to the wealthy family. She is tucked away in an attic and abused for not learning the Japanese subservient female behaviours.
Old culture threaded in with new. The sibling relationship between her and her half brother. The music. The bravery and strength of character.
Poetically written. This one moved me. However, I have to admit, I wasn’t crazy about the ending but I was crazy about the writing. Looking forward to many more from this up and comer.
4.5⭐️
Instead I’ll do it in a few that quickly come to mind:
Traumatic. Enraging. Stunning. Enduring. Epic. Captivating.
It’s the early 1950’s and 8 year old Nori is abandoned at the front door of her grandparents in Kyoto.
She is a bastard child, an embarrassment to the wealthy family. She is tucked away in an attic and abused for not learning the Japanese subservient female behaviours.
Old culture threaded in with new. The sibling relationship between her and her half brother. The music. The bravery and strength of character.
Poetically written. This one moved me. However, I have to admit, I wasn’t crazy about the ending but I was crazy about the writing. Looking forward to many more from this up and comer.
4.5⭐️
September 17, 2020
I really wanted to love this book, but it just read like a soap opera. I was rolling my eyes at the drama. Totally dramatic things seemed to happen for no reason and didn't affect the plot, literally just happened. Like, okay, put in that piece of drama, now time to move to the next one. Also, not sure why the author, who is not Japanese, felt the need to set it in Japan when it could have been set anywhere, because she doesn't pay much attention to Japanese culture anyway. Also, the other points of view that pop up throughout made it feel kind of disjointed to me. I was really disappointed with this book that I couldn't wait to read. Two stars, rather than one, for being a readable page-turner despite all the melodrama I hated.
..Also, the ending was stupid.
..Also, the ending was stupid.
December 13, 2020
4.5 stars
This book was very nearly a 5 star read for me – that is, until the last 10 pages or so when I got to the ending, which frustrated me so much that my first reaction was wanting to throw the book against the wall (of course I didn’t do that, but only because I was reading on an electronic device and didn’t want to break it). I think part of the reason why I reacted so strongly to the ending was because, up to that point, I was so emotionally invested in the story and the characters that it was hard for me to accept how things unfolded at the end.
As the main character, Nori stole my heart from the very first page, where we are introduced to her as an eight-year-old girl abandoned by her mother, left on the doorstep of her aristocratic grandparents’ estate in post-WWII Kyoto, Japan. While Nori’s grandparents do take her in, they do so not because they care about her, but because they want to hide her from the world, as Nori’s dark skin is too obvious a reminder of the stain brought on the Kamiza family from their married daughter Seiko’s affair with an African American soldier. Nori is banished to a life of solitary confinement in the attic, where her only companionship is the servant who sees to her daily needs. Remembering her mother’s strict instructions to “obey in all things” and to do as she is told without question or resistance, Nori is obedient to a fault and does not fight whatever is done to her, whether it’s her grandmother’s monthly beatings or the chemical baths she endures daily in order to lighten her skin. But all of that changes when the half-brother Nori never knew she had comes to live with his grandparents after his father dies -- as the legitimate heir to the Kamiza dynasty, Akira is doted on by a grandmother who is willing to give him the world as long as he takes his destined place in the family. As Akira gets to know his half-sister, the siblings form a unique and close bond – a bond that their grandparents will try to break at all costs due to the impact it would have on the path that Akira is destined to lead.
Nori is a wonderfully-drawn character who came alive on the page for me — a character I couldn’t help rooting for from beginning to end. I was drawn to her self-effacing charm, her curious nature, and most important of all, her strength in rising above the odds and defying the circumstances she was born into. With everything she endures throughout the story, I admire the fact that Nori does not easily resign herself to her fate (which, for those who’ve read the book, would explain why I reacted to the ending the way I did). Nori is one of those endearing fictional characters that I know won’t be easily forgotten, though I guess the same can also be said about her brother Akira, another character I absolutely adored. I love the way the author, Asha Lemmie, wrote the dynamic between these two half-siblings who couldn’t be more different from each other, yet shared such a strong, formidable bond. I was tremendously moved by their relationship and how special it was – it actually made me think about my relationship with my sibling and long for the type of bond these two had. Needless to say, several scenes in particular brought me to tears – though I will also say that there were an equal number of scenes that made me angry, especially the ones involving the grandparents and the antiquated mindset that drove all of their actions. It’s been awhile since I’ve read a book that made me smile, cry, and yell out in frustration, all within pages of each other. This book invoked a myriad of emotions that actually still has me thinking about the story and its characters, even now, days after I’ve finished reading. No doubt this is a story that will stay with me for a long time to come.
This is not an easy story to read by any means, but it is an important one, and despite the issues I had with the ending, I feel that Asha Lemmie did a fantastic job. In all honesty, I’m still blown away by the fact that this is a debut novel because it definitely doesn’t read like one! I don’t want to say too much more than I already have for fear of giving away the story, but I definitely highly, highly recommend this one, though with a caveat -- be prepared to experience an emotional roller coaster like I did. I don’t know anything about Lemmie outside of what is in her bio, but I sincerely hope that this won’t be the only novel she writes – I am definitely looking forward to reading more from her.
Received ARC from Dutton via Edelweiss.
This book was very nearly a 5 star read for me – that is, until the last 10 pages or so when I got to the ending, which frustrated me so much that my first reaction was wanting to throw the book against the wall (of course I didn’t do that, but only because I was reading on an electronic device and didn’t want to break it). I think part of the reason why I reacted so strongly to the ending was because, up to that point, I was so emotionally invested in the story and the characters that it was hard for me to accept how things unfolded at the end.
As the main character, Nori stole my heart from the very first page, where we are introduced to her as an eight-year-old girl abandoned by her mother, left on the doorstep of her aristocratic grandparents’ estate in post-WWII Kyoto, Japan. While Nori’s grandparents do take her in, they do so not because they care about her, but because they want to hide her from the world, as Nori’s dark skin is too obvious a reminder of the stain brought on the Kamiza family from their married daughter Seiko’s affair with an African American soldier. Nori is banished to a life of solitary confinement in the attic, where her only companionship is the servant who sees to her daily needs. Remembering her mother’s strict instructions to “obey in all things” and to do as she is told without question or resistance, Nori is obedient to a fault and does not fight whatever is done to her, whether it’s her grandmother’s monthly beatings or the chemical baths she endures daily in order to lighten her skin. But all of that changes when the half-brother Nori never knew she had comes to live with his grandparents after his father dies -- as the legitimate heir to the Kamiza dynasty, Akira is doted on by a grandmother who is willing to give him the world as long as he takes his destined place in the family. As Akira gets to know his half-sister, the siblings form a unique and close bond – a bond that their grandparents will try to break at all costs due to the impact it would have on the path that Akira is destined to lead.
Nori is a wonderfully-drawn character who came alive on the page for me — a character I couldn’t help rooting for from beginning to end. I was drawn to her self-effacing charm, her curious nature, and most important of all, her strength in rising above the odds and defying the circumstances she was born into. With everything she endures throughout the story, I admire the fact that Nori does not easily resign herself to her fate (which, for those who’ve read the book, would explain why I reacted to the ending the way I did). Nori is one of those endearing fictional characters that I know won’t be easily forgotten, though I guess the same can also be said about her brother Akira, another character I absolutely adored. I love the way the author, Asha Lemmie, wrote the dynamic between these two half-siblings who couldn’t be more different from each other, yet shared such a strong, formidable bond. I was tremendously moved by their relationship and how special it was – it actually made me think about my relationship with my sibling and long for the type of bond these two had. Needless to say, several scenes in particular brought me to tears – though I will also say that there were an equal number of scenes that made me angry, especially the ones involving the grandparents and the antiquated mindset that drove all of their actions. It’s been awhile since I’ve read a book that made me smile, cry, and yell out in frustration, all within pages of each other. This book invoked a myriad of emotions that actually still has me thinking about the story and its characters, even now, days after I’ve finished reading. No doubt this is a story that will stay with me for a long time to come.
This is not an easy story to read by any means, but it is an important one, and despite the issues I had with the ending, I feel that Asha Lemmie did a fantastic job. In all honesty, I’m still blown away by the fact that this is a debut novel because it definitely doesn’t read like one! I don’t want to say too much more than I already have for fear of giving away the story, but I definitely highly, highly recommend this one, though with a caveat -- be prepared to experience an emotional roller coaster like I did. I don’t know anything about Lemmie outside of what is in her bio, but I sincerely hope that this won’t be the only novel she writes – I am definitely looking forward to reading more from her.
Received ARC from Dutton via Edelweiss.
December 5, 2020
There are so many people who grew up with hardship covering their entire lives. In the book, Fifty Words for Rain, by debut author, Asha Lemmie, we meet a young Japanese girl. The time period is after the war in Japan and Noriko "Nori" Kamiza's, an eight year old child, a product of a wealthy Japanese mother and a black G.I father who has to faced daily the repercussions of being a mixed race child.
Abandoned by her mother, forced to abide in the mansion's attic, given bleach baths to try and lighten her skin, her life is one of confinement and cruelty from her grandmother, and a lack of love and care. She learns to treasure the sound of rain for that can be heard in the attic, whereas the sun can not be seen in her prison abode.
Her life takes a turn for the better when her half older brother, Akira, arrives. He is a legitimate son, the future "prince" for his grandparents status and wealth and he becomes for Nori, a way to find a tiny bit of happiness. Akira is her glimpse into the world outside her attic door.
This was such a sad tale, one where a child is being punished for just existing, and as Nori is introduced to the world, she also finds the pain that goes along with being a person, the sorrows and the depths one can face while growing and learning.
As Nori eventually finds sometimes the circle of life brings one right back to the beginning.
Thank you to Asha Lemmie, and Edelweiss for a copy of this touching story.
Abandoned by her mother, forced to abide in the mansion's attic, given bleach baths to try and lighten her skin, her life is one of confinement and cruelty from her grandmother, and a lack of love and care. She learns to treasure the sound of rain for that can be heard in the attic, whereas the sun can not be seen in her prison abode.
Her life takes a turn for the better when her half older brother, Akira, arrives. He is a legitimate son, the future "prince" for his grandparents status and wealth and he becomes for Nori, a way to find a tiny bit of happiness. Akira is her glimpse into the world outside her attic door.
This was such a sad tale, one where a child is being punished for just existing, and as Nori is introduced to the world, she also finds the pain that goes along with being a person, the sorrows and the depths one can face while growing and learning.
As Nori eventually finds sometimes the circle of life brings one right back to the beginning.
Thank you to Asha Lemmie, and Edelweiss for a copy of this touching story.
November 2, 2020
EWWWW I HATED THIS BOOK’S ENDING SO MUCH IT KNOCKED IT DOWN TWO ENTIRE STARS.
That being said, this book wasn’t very good to begin with. There was WAY too much going on. It seemed like the author was like “let’s throw in a car crash” “let’s make her pregnant” “let’s make her happy” “let’s make her not happy” . I hated this book, one of the worst I have read all year. I do not understand the hype.
That being said, this book wasn’t very good to begin with. There was WAY too much going on. It seemed like the author was like “let’s throw in a car crash” “let’s make her pregnant” “let’s make her happy” “let’s make her not happy” . I hated this book, one of the worst I have read all year. I do not understand the hype.
January 1, 2023
Fifty Words for Rain is a debut novel about a young illegitimate daughter of a Japanese aristocrat and her black GI lover in occupied Japan. The story starts in 1948 when the woman drops her 8 year old daughter off at the home of her grandparents. They are so ashamed of her, she is relegated to the attic and never allowed to leave the house. The young girl suffers abuse from the hands of her grandmother, including attempts to bleach her skin. Things begin to change when her legitimate half brother comes to live with the grandparents, following the death of his father. Older than her, he takes her under his wing and begins to demand better treatment for her. The story follows her as she grows up. At one point, she gets the diaries of her mother, which allows the reader to learn the backstory.
The story is truly depressing. Heartache follows heartache. By the end, it had the feel of a melodrama and the events became somewhat predictable But I was so invested in Nori as she moved through the years. Bound by her circumstances, she still was never bowed. Even at a young age, she exhibits a quiet strength. It also tackles the deep devotion that can develop when someone has never been loved before.
I listened to the story. There were six different narrators, all who did a decent job.
The story is truly depressing. Heartache follows heartache. By the end, it had the feel of a melodrama and the events became somewhat predictable But I was so invested in Nori as she moved through the years. Bound by her circumstances, she still was never bowed. Even at a young age, she exhibits a quiet strength. It also tackles the deep devotion that can develop when someone has never been loved before.
I listened to the story. There were six different narrators, all who did a decent job.
February 24, 2020
First, thank you to NetGalley for providing me a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This book is very reminiscent of other books I've read in the past, Flowers in the Attic comes to mind, as does White Oleander and Memoirs of a Geisha (with a dash of the movie Mommy Dearest, but not with wire hangers). I very much enjoyed the majority of the book, which follows Nori's journey from child with a strict upbringing to woman with emotional baggage to spare. I feel like the last 30% of the book or so took everything I loved about the first 70% and dialed it up to 11, making it slightly unbearable in the process. The ending especially felt like a miss to what I was expecting, because Nori
All that said, the book was still mostly enjoyable for me, and I highly recommend it to anyone who really likes dramatic fiction. I especially liked the author's writing style, and came away from the book with many quotes noted down in my notebook.
This book is very reminiscent of other books I've read in the past, Flowers in the Attic comes to mind, as does White Oleander and Memoirs of a Geisha (with a dash of the movie Mommy Dearest, but not with wire hangers). I very much enjoyed the majority of the book, which follows Nori's journey from child with a strict upbringing to woman with emotional baggage to spare. I feel like the last 30% of the book or so took everything I loved about the first 70% and dialed it up to 11, making it slightly unbearable in the process. The ending especially felt like a miss to what I was expecting, because Nori
All that said, the book was still mostly enjoyable for me, and I highly recommend it to anyone who really likes dramatic fiction. I especially liked the author's writing style, and came away from the book with many quotes noted down in my notebook.
April 26, 2020
Noriko is the product of a Japanese woman and African American man, born in Japan after WWII. After being dropped off at her grandmother’s house, Nori doesn’t understand why she has been abandoned by her mother. Put in the attic and shunned by her very traditional Japanese grandparents, Nori merely exists until her half brother, Akira, comes into the picture. The story gets more intense and it is hard to put down the book. Well written and an excellent piece of literary fiction, I recommend and thank Netgalley for the ARC.
October 7, 2020
You ever enjoyed a novel until the last fifty pages, after which you wanted to throw the book against the wall? Yup.
October 4, 2020
What an amazing read! How is this Asha Lemmie’s debut novel? I seriously could not put it down, the fastest and best read all year for me! It was such a beautiful and honest portrayal of Japanese culture and the honor of family during that time period. Your heart breaks for Nori and her eternal love for her half brother Akira. The description and detail are so vivid, you can see Nori sitting up in the tree reading her mother’s journals. You can hear Akira playing Ave Maria on his violin for Nori. Nori lives many lifetimes in just 24 years. Interesting fact, Nori in Japanese is seaweed, which is somewhat black in color (after it has been roasted). Curious if this was intended as symbolism, since Nori is half Japanese and half African American or it could be because she was seen as a blight on the honor of the Kamiza Family. Good book club discussion questions. Be sure to read the author’s acknowledgements at the end. If you weren’t crying already, you will be. This book really touched me because, I am very much like Nori. My mother is Japanese and she met my African American GI father when he was stationed in Japan during the Vietnam War. After marrying my father, my mother was disowned by her family and came to live with him here in the US. I grew up here, but always wondered what it would have been like to live and grow up in Japan. This is such a beautiful story and I cannot wait to share it with my mother.
October 16, 2022
Fifty Words of Rain is a phenomenal, beautifully written novel by Asha Lemmie. From the very first chapter, I was drawn into the main protagonist Noriko Kamiza. Noriko is born into a prominent family being the cousins of the emperor. This means that her family has power and respect in Japan. However, one thing that alienates Noriko from the powerful family is that she is a half-breed born as a result of an affair between her mother, Seiko and her African American lover.
For a chance at a better life, Seiko leaves Nori with her grandparents but they conceal her away fearful that her presence will stain the royal family and the honor and respect they are so desperately trying to uphold. Nori is only eight years old when she is taken in by her grandparents; forced to stay in the attic, never adventuring outside, and subjected to chemical baths to lighten her skin. The only thing Nori's mother advised her before she left was to "Promise me. Promise me that you will obey in all things. Do not question. Do not fight. Do not resist. Do not think if thinking will lead you somewhere where you ought not to be. Only smile and do as you are told." This was Nori's mentality always obey and never question.
However, when Nori's half-brother Akira (who is the legitimate heir) comes to stay at the estate their bond strengthens them beyond measures. He adores his sister and will do everything in his power to see to it that Nori is never harmed or treated poorly. Their bond is despised by their grandparents who will go to extreme lengths to ensure that Akira is the one to continue to bring their family honor and respect and nowhere in that plan is a place for Nori. Nori with a newfound strength with the love of her brother, starts to realize that maybe there is a place for her after all and she must fight to survive.
I have never felt so emotional reading. There were times that I just felt so heartbroken for Nori. The pain and sorrow she felt was just radiating off the pages. Lemmie did an outstanding job with expressing the emotions and compassion through Nori's eyes.
This book expands several years as Nori grows up from being a eight year old to a young adult in her twenties. She goes through so many struggles and life altering moments from living in torment with her grandparents, being united with her brother, to being sold to a geisha house without her brother knowing, enduring overwhelming grief, being forced to leave Japan or die, traveling the world, falling in love, and finally being able to come into her own destiny.
For a chance at a better life, Seiko leaves Nori with her grandparents but they conceal her away fearful that her presence will stain the royal family and the honor and respect they are so desperately trying to uphold. Nori is only eight years old when she is taken in by her grandparents; forced to stay in the attic, never adventuring outside, and subjected to chemical baths to lighten her skin. The only thing Nori's mother advised her before she left was to "Promise me. Promise me that you will obey in all things. Do not question. Do not fight. Do not resist. Do not think if thinking will lead you somewhere where you ought not to be. Only smile and do as you are told." This was Nori's mentality always obey and never question.
However, when Nori's half-brother Akira (who is the legitimate heir) comes to stay at the estate their bond strengthens them beyond measures. He adores his sister and will do everything in his power to see to it that Nori is never harmed or treated poorly. Their bond is despised by their grandparents who will go to extreme lengths to ensure that Akira is the one to continue to bring their family honor and respect and nowhere in that plan is a place for Nori. Nori with a newfound strength with the love of her brother, starts to realize that maybe there is a place for her after all and she must fight to survive.
I have never felt so emotional reading. There were times that I just felt so heartbroken for Nori. The pain and sorrow she felt was just radiating off the pages. Lemmie did an outstanding job with expressing the emotions and compassion through Nori's eyes.
This book expands several years as Nori grows up from being a eight year old to a young adult in her twenties. She goes through so many struggles and life altering moments from living in torment with her grandparents, being united with her brother, to being sold to a geisha house without her brother knowing, enduring overwhelming grief, being forced to leave Japan or die, traveling the world, falling in love, and finally being able to come into her own destiny.
July 5, 2020
The book was absolutely riveting; I read it in two days and any time not spent reading it was spent thinking about it. The ending stunned me, angered me, made me weep, and made absolute sense.
May 31, 2024
The illegitimate child of a Japanese aristocrat and her African American GI lover, Nori struggles to feel accepted in post-WWII Kyoto. At the age of 8, she is abandoned by her mother and left with her grandparents with only the advice not to question, not to fight and not to resist. They keep her in an attic and make her endure daily chemical baths to lighten her skin which they find shameful. She lives a life of solitude until her legitimate half brother, Akira, arrives at the estate which he is set to inherit one day. He and Nori develop a deep bond much to the dismay of her horrible grandparents. He allows her to ask questions and shows her kindness and love.
While I enjoyed the story overall, there were a few things that dropped my rating significantly. Many of the characters felt like stereotypes and could have used a little more depth. Nori endured so much tragedy throughout this story to the point that it was too much for one person to experience to make it even somewhat believable. But my biggest gripe is the ending. This book had SO much potential, but the ending completely ruined it for me. If I had been reading a physical copy of the book, I would have thrown it across the room. That’s how much I hated the last few chapters of the book. Despite my complaints, it was a good debut novel and I would like to read Asha Lemmie’s next book to see how she matures as a writer. 3 stars. 💫
While I enjoyed the story overall, there were a few things that dropped my rating significantly. Many of the characters felt like stereotypes and could have used a little more depth. Nori endured so much tragedy throughout this story to the point that it was too much for one person to experience to make it even somewhat believable. But my biggest gripe is the ending. This book had SO much potential, but the ending completely ruined it for me. If I had been reading a physical copy of the book, I would have thrown it across the room. That’s how much I hated the last few chapters of the book. Despite my complaints, it was a good debut novel and I would like to read Asha Lemmie’s next book to see how she matures as a writer. 3 stars. 💫
September 9, 2020
Even without the ending that I hoped for, it was such a good story.
September 22, 2020
Astounding!
The last words a mother says to her young daughter before abandoning her were,
"“Promise me. Promise me that you will obey in all things. Do not question. Do not fight. Do not resist. Do not think if thinking will lead you somewhere you ought not to be. Only smile and do as you are told. Only your life is more important than your obedience. Only the air you breathe. Promise me this.”"
Kyoto 1948 and a young girl of mixed race is left on the doorstep of her grandparent's estate. We trace her story from when she's confined to the estate's attic, subjected to chemical sponge downs to alter the color of her skin and constantly reminded of how worthless she is. Eight-year-old Noriko “Nori” Kamiza wasn't quite left on the hillside with wolves but it is a near thing metaphorically speaking.
I was completely struck down by the underlying poignancy of Noriko's physical treatment along with the emotional abuse she was subjected to. Attitudes and expectations in post war Japan in the upper echelons of the aristocracy, a strictly tiered society, are portrayed at a time when saving face is everything.
This is a tragedy with immense moments of change but tragedy is a constant right to the end. In my mind the story sits within the milieu of a Shakespearean tragedy maybe with a dash of Flowers in the Attic. Fifty Words had me glued even as there were moments when I became completely unstuck.
Music plays a part and like a musical composition the story's crescendo rises to a glorious triumphant moment and then crashes onto shores of a harsh yet nuanced reality. I was left wondering whether Nori will perpetuate tragedies or be able to rise beyond them. More questions than resolutions. Did I want that? Possibly I wanted a fairytale ending. But this is no fairytale, it's a tragedy. Nori balances between strength and weakness, between choosing and not. As she says, "I have always deserved to die. But I refused."
I wondered about Japanese forms of Tragedy. It seems that Japanese literary traditions do not align with Western traditions of Tragedies.
However, one scholar, C. Andrew Gerstle in "The Concept of Tragedy in Japanese Drama" Japan Review No. 1 (1990), pp. 49-72) refers to particular areas of drama such as "the 'Women' plays of Noh and the third-act pieces of Bunraku—[that] focus on heroes who though caught in a difficult situation consciously choose their paths, which lead often to the extreme edges of human suffering."
Nori experiences that "extreme edge" and although she doesn't consciously choose her path, her life experience has trapped her well and truly as much as she tries to escape. A place she constantly treads and from which escape seems impossible. This forms the backbone of this startling and moving novel.
A Penguin Dutton ARC via NetGalley
Please note: Quotes taken from an advanced reading copy maybe subject to change
(Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.)
The last words a mother says to her young daughter before abandoning her were,
"“Promise me. Promise me that you will obey in all things. Do not question. Do not fight. Do not resist. Do not think if thinking will lead you somewhere you ought not to be. Only smile and do as you are told. Only your life is more important than your obedience. Only the air you breathe. Promise me this.”"
Kyoto 1948 and a young girl of mixed race is left on the doorstep of her grandparent's estate. We trace her story from when she's confined to the estate's attic, subjected to chemical sponge downs to alter the color of her skin and constantly reminded of how worthless she is. Eight-year-old Noriko “Nori” Kamiza wasn't quite left on the hillside with wolves but it is a near thing metaphorically speaking.
I was completely struck down by the underlying poignancy of Noriko's physical treatment along with the emotional abuse she was subjected to. Attitudes and expectations in post war Japan in the upper echelons of the aristocracy, a strictly tiered society, are portrayed at a time when saving face is everything.
This is a tragedy with immense moments of change but tragedy is a constant right to the end. In my mind the story sits within the milieu of a Shakespearean tragedy maybe with a dash of Flowers in the Attic. Fifty Words had me glued even as there were moments when I became completely unstuck.
Music plays a part and like a musical composition the story's crescendo rises to a glorious triumphant moment and then crashes onto shores of a harsh yet nuanced reality. I was left wondering whether Nori will perpetuate tragedies or be able to rise beyond them. More questions than resolutions. Did I want that? Possibly I wanted a fairytale ending. But this is no fairytale, it's a tragedy. Nori balances between strength and weakness, between choosing and not. As she says, "I have always deserved to die. But I refused."
I wondered about Japanese forms of Tragedy. It seems that Japanese literary traditions do not align with Western traditions of Tragedies.
However, one scholar, C. Andrew Gerstle in "The Concept of Tragedy in Japanese Drama" Japan Review No. 1 (1990), pp. 49-72) refers to particular areas of drama such as "the 'Women' plays of Noh and the third-act pieces of Bunraku—[that] focus on heroes who though caught in a difficult situation consciously choose their paths, which lead often to the extreme edges of human suffering."
Nori experiences that "extreme edge" and although she doesn't consciously choose her path, her life experience has trapped her well and truly as much as she tries to escape. A place she constantly treads and from which escape seems impossible. This forms the backbone of this startling and moving novel.
A Penguin Dutton ARC via NetGalley
Please note: Quotes taken from an advanced reading copy maybe subject to change
(Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.)
December 24, 2023
4.5 very strong stars rounded up. I listened to the audiobook of Fifty Words for Rain by Asha Lemmie. It was read by Robin Eller, Siho Ellsmore, Katharine Jenna Yi, Sarah Skaer, Louis Ozawa, and Lee McEwan. It was hard to believe that this was Asha Lemmie’s debut novel. It was quite impressive. I found it very difficult to step aside from listening to this audiobook. The plot and characters were captivating. It was a very well researched historical fiction book that took place post World War II in Japan. Fifty Words for Rain was a coming of age story that brought focus on the decline of the royal Japanese families and spanned the years through the liberations of the 1960’s. It followed one biracial girl’s life from the time she was eight years old until she turned twenty-six years old. The girl was called Nori. The things that she was made to endure were cruel and heartbreaking. Nori proved to be strong, resilient, determined and stubborn. She found an ally in her half brother Akira. Akira offered Nori a newfound hope for a better life that offered opportunity and more freedom.
Fifty Words for Rain by Asha Lemmie focused on the ideas of love, friendship, loss, prejudice, pain, traditions, struggles, triumphs and transformations. I found myself rooting for Nori. She was my favorite character. I look forward to reading future books by Asha Lemmie. I really enjoyed Fifty Words for arain and I recommend this book very highly.
Fifty Words for Rain by Asha Lemmie focused on the ideas of love, friendship, loss, prejudice, pain, traditions, struggles, triumphs and transformations. I found myself rooting for Nori. She was my favorite character. I look forward to reading future books by Asha Lemmie. I really enjoyed Fifty Words for arain and I recommend this book very highly.
December 24, 2020
"𝘿𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝘿𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩. 𝘿𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩,"
𝙁𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙮 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙍𝙖𝙞𝙣 introduces us to the old customs, lineage, and upper-class tradition back into Japan in 1948, post-WWII, that were prevalent and still held with dignity even when Japan was shifting into modern anarchy. There are fifty words to describe Rain in Japanese allegory to Nori's oppressive and abusive life.
Noriko Kamiza has a complicated mixed race and out of wedlock birth that places her in an odd and miserable position throughout her life. She struggles with being an outcast in a higher caste! Abandoned by her mother to live with her abusive grandmother, Lady Yuko, and oblivious grandfather in the unacquainted ancestral home, Noriko spent most of her childhood locked away in an attic to avoid shame on the mighty Kamiza's royal reputation. Nori lives a life of shadow, misery, and fear that are brutally honest and heart-wrenching to read about. She endures a painful bleach bath daily to erase the traces of color on her skin and remove evidence of her mother's affair with the African American soldier, her father.
Asha Lemmie has a keen eye for delicate and intricate matters about humanity that speaks with boldness in a historical portrait of racism in Japan's culture. Nori's story was compelling, touching, overdramatic, and entertaining as well. The narration was beautifully written with rich emotions.
I have enjoyed most of the novel but find the story erring on the side of overly pessimistic and depressive mode, a tune down to the hype from the beginning. Repeated and elaborated emphasis on darker skin controversial emitted a high whine that caused minor annoyance. The historical and cultural accuracy left some unanswered questions, and the ending was not what I had anticipated.
A riveting and dramatic story in old Japan features a woman's fight and flight to gain her identity – each time for a fresh start and a voice to the secrets, love for a man unattainable, and friendship that stretches across cultures and time. Worth the read with a bit of confusion in between the storyline.
𝙁𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙮 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙍𝙖𝙞𝙣 introduces us to the old customs, lineage, and upper-class tradition back into Japan in 1948, post-WWII, that were prevalent and still held with dignity even when Japan was shifting into modern anarchy. There are fifty words to describe Rain in Japanese allegory to Nori's oppressive and abusive life.
Noriko Kamiza has a complicated mixed race and out of wedlock birth that places her in an odd and miserable position throughout her life. She struggles with being an outcast in a higher caste! Abandoned by her mother to live with her abusive grandmother, Lady Yuko, and oblivious grandfather in the unacquainted ancestral home, Noriko spent most of her childhood locked away in an attic to avoid shame on the mighty Kamiza's royal reputation. Nori lives a life of shadow, misery, and fear that are brutally honest and heart-wrenching to read about. She endures a painful bleach bath daily to erase the traces of color on her skin and remove evidence of her mother's affair with the African American soldier, her father.
Asha Lemmie has a keen eye for delicate and intricate matters about humanity that speaks with boldness in a historical portrait of racism in Japan's culture. Nori's story was compelling, touching, overdramatic, and entertaining as well. The narration was beautifully written with rich emotions.
I have enjoyed most of the novel but find the story erring on the side of overly pessimistic and depressive mode, a tune down to the hype from the beginning. Repeated and elaborated emphasis on darker skin controversial emitted a high whine that caused minor annoyance. The historical and cultural accuracy left some unanswered questions, and the ending was not what I had anticipated.
A riveting and dramatic story in old Japan features a woman's fight and flight to gain her identity – each time for a fresh start and a voice to the secrets, love for a man unattainable, and friendship that stretches across cultures and time. Worth the read with a bit of confusion in between the storyline.
October 4, 2020
This story was a mess, average writing and poor character development aside. I went into this expecting a poignant tale about the struggles growing up half black in post-war Japan but this was really just the sort of melodrama you'd find in a J-Drama, which I think was the true inspiration for Lemmie. The back-to-back over the top events in Noriko's life probably would have been more entertaining to watch on screen, but none of it flowed well in a literary sense. I had to push myself very hard to get through this, as my interest was lost not long after the first one hundred pages or so and never returned. I also cannot understand, after all the events of her life, Lemmie could flesh out such an ending for Noriko. It made no sense to me. And am I the only one questioning just how much research Lemmie did on pre- and post-war Japan? I'm no expert but I detect a lot of historical inaccuracies.
October 7, 2020
“Fifty Words For Rain” by Asha Lemmie is an ambitious story of biracial girl in post WWII Japan. The story begins when Nori, at 8 years old, is left in front of her grandparent’s mansion with instructions from her mother, “Do not question. Do not fight. Do not resist.” Nori is told if she obeys these rules, she will be fine. Well, that was a load of hog wash. As soon as Nori walks through the gates of her grandparent’s home she’s banished to the attic where she lives for years, never venturing outside, rarely leaving her attic room. For, Nori is the product of an “illicit” affair of a Japanese royal and a black American soldier. Nori’s grandmother is indignant and treats Nori as trash. Nori is forced to take daily baths involving bleach scrubs which leave her in tears. The emotional abuse by the grandmother leaves the reader horrified. Little Nori is accepting of her lot in life, staring out the window of her attic prison.
After a couple of years, Nori has a surprise visitor to the home: a half-brother. Akira is visiting for a few months; he and Nori have the same mother. Akira, being a male, is destined to inherit the dynasty, although he’s a reluctant heir. He finds the whole dynasty thing to be archaic. Akira is being groomed to inherit a palace and a fortune. But right now, he just wants to be left alone with his violin. Nori bravely sneaks into his room and asks him to grant her access to him. Akira is appalled at her living conditions and uses his status against his grandmother. He understood early that his grandmother needed him more than he needed her.
The grandmother gets concerned about Nori’s hold on Akira, and when Akira is gone to school, the grandmother sells Nori to a brothel.
So goes Nori’s long road in life. She is an innocent who is controlled by horrible people.
Yet, her life is dotted with kindness, here and there. She grows up strong. If there is a fault in author Lemmie’s character development of Nori, is that she is not consistent. She grows and becomes strong and resolute; and in an instant she’s whining and throwing a tantrum.
I enjoyed Lemmie’s depiction of post war Japan and the cultural changes in the 1960’s. Nori as a protagonist is one that will stay with me. I’m not sure where Lemmie is taking the reader at the end of the story. For me, it lacked. It’s not a cliff hanger; it’s just disappointingly flat.
This is a difficult novel to rate, as it had superior moments and overly dramatic moments.
I listened to the audio production that includes 6 narrators. Again, it’s an ambitious novel. I enjoyed the narrators, until it got whiney.
After a couple of years, Nori has a surprise visitor to the home: a half-brother. Akira is visiting for a few months; he and Nori have the same mother. Akira, being a male, is destined to inherit the dynasty, although he’s a reluctant heir. He finds the whole dynasty thing to be archaic. Akira is being groomed to inherit a palace and a fortune. But right now, he just wants to be left alone with his violin. Nori bravely sneaks into his room and asks him to grant her access to him. Akira is appalled at her living conditions and uses his status against his grandmother. He understood early that his grandmother needed him more than he needed her.
The grandmother gets concerned about Nori’s hold on Akira, and when Akira is gone to school, the grandmother sells Nori to a brothel.
So goes Nori’s long road in life. She is an innocent who is controlled by horrible people.
Yet, her life is dotted with kindness, here and there. She grows up strong. If there is a fault in author Lemmie’s character development of Nori, is that she is not consistent. She grows and becomes strong and resolute; and in an instant she’s whining and throwing a tantrum.
I enjoyed Lemmie’s depiction of post war Japan and the cultural changes in the 1960’s. Nori as a protagonist is one that will stay with me. I’m not sure where Lemmie is taking the reader at the end of the story. For me, it lacked. It’s not a cliff hanger; it’s just disappointingly flat.
This is a difficult novel to rate, as it had superior moments and overly dramatic moments.
I listened to the audio production that includes 6 narrators. Again, it’s an ambitious novel. I enjoyed the narrators, until it got whiney.
May 25, 2021
He smelled like soap and lemons. And the wasabi he’d had for lunch. He always smelled like wasabi.
Smells. Like. Wasabi.
What the actual F?
No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
This book was an injustice to Japanese culture and traditions, reducing it to a series of stereotypes and tropes. It read like a laundry list of what foreigners think of when they envision Japan. Geisha? Check. Yakuza? Check. Sushi? Check. Kamikaze? Check. Wasabi? Check. Honor? Check. Origami? (Yup, the author found a way to fit origami into the story.) Check. I mean come on. It really bothers me that many people will read this book with little or no knowledge of Japan, and walk away having their stereotypes reinforced.
Besides the embarrassing lack of in-depth knowledge and understanding of Japan, the story itself was like a high school student attempting to write a tragedy in that her understanding of sadness and tragedy is making every terrible thing imaginable happen to the main character. Each chapter introduced the main character to some new tragic cliché, briefly introduced some other characters I didn't care about, then rushed through to get to the next chapter where something even more extreme happened. Don't even get me started on all the historical and geographical inaccuracies like the author's very European description of a Japanese palace or land-locked Kyoto smelling like the ocean.
Note to author: for your next "historical" novel, if you don't plan on visiting a country or learning about its culture, please at least use Google to fact-chect. For example, a quick online search for "geisha" would reveal that they did more than "play instruments and arrange flowers," (something the main character masters in a year's time) and that geisha were not prostitutes. Perhaps also read a book like Pachinko as a point of reference on how to do historical fiction.
At first I thought maybe it was just me who hated this book, but then I talked to my other Asian friends and we all had similar thoughts. How the hell has this book received such high reviews? It's disheartening to me that the main thing people didn't like about this book was the ending. What about the rest of the book!? They were okay with all the inaccuracies? The blatant disregard and misrepresentarion of Japanese culture and history? That was all fine, but the stupid ending in an already stupid plot was the sticking point? Why aren't people angry about more than just the ending? *Shakes head sadly.*
I had high hopes this book would delve into what it was like to be hāfu in Japan, culturally and personally, but all the same old clichés applied - she didn't fit in, everyone immediately hates her, and her "whitest" feature, her light eyes, is what makes her so "exotic" and beautiful. Ugh.
For centuries, Asians have had to endure having their stories innacurately told by Westerners, and this is no exception.
TL;DR: Overrated, poorly written and painfully tone deaf. And if you're OK with a Japanese person being described as "smelling like wasabi," you might want to check your wokeness at the door. Because, no.
August 31, 2020
*This free copy was given by Prhinternational and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review*
I am so so happy after finishing this book, and I am in tears. I am overwhelmed and my emotions are all over the place. I am crying, I have been for most of the book though and they are ugly tears I tell you. I did not want this book to end, not this way. I had hope, how could Lemmie take it away?
I loved Nori, and she frustrated me. This girl had a life full of suffering, pain, beauty, hope and strength. She struggled and won, I felt for her and I just wanted her to be happy. I cried a lot throughout this book and I smiled too. The words were lyrical in a sense and warm.
Asha Lemmie explores territories that have long been exploited but she put her own touch perfectly. She explores race, culture, love and family. Nori grew up feeling unwanted and she paved her own way.
“Love can be weakened by time or forgotten for the sake of another. Love can disappear, without a cause or an explanation, like a thief crept in and stole it in the night”
Nori was passionate, she taught herself everything even the fifty words for rain.
I am so so happy after finishing this book, and I am in tears. I am overwhelmed and my emotions are all over the place. I am crying, I have been for most of the book though and they are ugly tears I tell you. I did not want this book to end, not this way. I had hope, how could Lemmie take it away?
I loved Nori, and she frustrated me. This girl had a life full of suffering, pain, beauty, hope and strength. She struggled and won, I felt for her and I just wanted her to be happy. I cried a lot throughout this book and I smiled too. The words were lyrical in a sense and warm.
Asha Lemmie explores territories that have long been exploited but she put her own touch perfectly. She explores race, culture, love and family. Nori grew up feeling unwanted and she paved her own way.
“Love can be weakened by time or forgotten for the sake of another. Love can disappear, without a cause or an explanation, like a thief crept in and stole it in the night”
Nori was passionate, she taught herself everything even the fifty words for rain.
February 12, 2022
This book found new ways to hurt me at every turn. I’ve smiled, screamed, raged, and cried. I felt so connected to Nori and it saddens me that joy was such fleeting feeling in her life. This is not a happy book nor is it light. Similarly to the main character, this book seeks to drag you to the pits of an emotional hell for which there is no escape. I am not ok.
November 17, 2020
If I could give it zero stars, I would. I truly do not understand all the positive glowing reviews of this book. Terrible character development, trite and crappy plot twists, bizarrely contrived chapters narrated by various secondary characters, and historically inaccurate to the point of employing downright racist stereotypes of Japanese people. Don't believe me? Here are a few of the bigger bones to pick:
- James, a black man in the Army in 1939, goes on leave and despite knowing no one and not speaking a word of Japanese, chooses to travel to Japan, and somehow has enough leave on the books to stay for 6+ months?
- The Kamiza family, cousins of the Emperor, and closely tied to the Yakuza, somehow are devout Christians? And while they still have shrines in their traditional Japanese house, they're shrines with a crucifix of Jesus? In the early 20th century?
- Nori is sold and trained to be a Geisha, at a whore house. Just for the record, Geisha are not whores. It would literally be impossible to wear the Obi correctly if you had to tie and retie it yourself over and over. (And on the subject of kimono, a yukata is by definition a summer-weight kimono, made of cotton or synthetic, not silk, which would be insane in the summer).
Has Lemmie ever been to Japan? Read a book about Japan? Seen a movie about Japan? This book is so poorly researched I felt like the turtle from Rocco's Modern Life, except instead of "turn the page, wash your hands" it was "read a page, scream in rage." For fuck's sake I hated this book so much!
- James, a black man in the Army in 1939, goes on leave and despite knowing no one and not speaking a word of Japanese, chooses to travel to Japan, and somehow has enough leave on the books to stay for 6+ months?
- The Kamiza family, cousins of the Emperor, and closely tied to the Yakuza, somehow are devout Christians? And while they still have shrines in their traditional Japanese house, they're shrines with a crucifix of Jesus? In the early 20th century?
- Nori is sold and trained to be a Geisha, at a whore house. Just for the record, Geisha are not whores. It would literally be impossible to wear the Obi correctly if you had to tie and retie it yourself over and over. (And on the subject of kimono, a yukata is by definition a summer-weight kimono, made of cotton or synthetic, not silk, which would be insane in the summer).
Has Lemmie ever been to Japan? Read a book about Japan? Seen a movie about Japan? This book is so poorly researched I felt like the turtle from Rocco's Modern Life, except instead of "turn the page, wash your hands" it was "read a page, scream in rage." For fuck's sake I hated this book so much!
January 5, 2021
Such an enduring main character. 😱
July 22, 2020
I received an advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review (and I'm glad I did!).
Fifty Words for Rain is a literary coming of age novel, historical fiction that couldn't be more timely.
Using the backdrop of a changing, Post WWII Japan, Lemmie examines race, family, and expectations (both familial and cultural) through the story of Nori, an unwanted girl of Japanese/Black background. Though the story begins with her locked in an attic, Nori's tale is an epic one, with her boundaries and experiences expanding literally as she grows physically and emotionally.
Nori is endurance, carving out a space for yourself; finding support and successes when the people who are supposed to protect you don't, and want to pretend you don't exist.
Certainly this isn't a light story, yet it was easy to fall into with love and beautiful writing to be found.
This bit in the prelude had me hooked: "Sometimes, if she was especially good, her mother would reward her with some candy or a new ribbon. So far, in eight years of life, Nori had a collection of twelve ribbons, one for each time she'd been able to make her mother happy."
Fifty Words for Rain is a literary coming of age novel, historical fiction that couldn't be more timely.
Using the backdrop of a changing, Post WWII Japan, Lemmie examines race, family, and expectations (both familial and cultural) through the story of Nori, an unwanted girl of Japanese/Black background. Though the story begins with her locked in an attic, Nori's tale is an epic one, with her boundaries and experiences expanding literally as she grows physically and emotionally.
Nori is endurance, carving out a space for yourself; finding support and successes when the people who are supposed to protect you don't, and want to pretend you don't exist.
Certainly this isn't a light story, yet it was easy to fall into with love and beautiful writing to be found.
This bit in the prelude had me hooked: "Sometimes, if she was especially good, her mother would reward her with some candy or a new ribbon. So far, in eight years of life, Nori had a collection of twelve ribbons, one for each time she'd been able to make her mother happy."
Displaying 1 - 30 of 5,371 reviews