The Ants is a study not of, but through, ants. In a dashing sequence of prose pieces, Sawako Nakayasu takes the human to the level of the ant, and the ant to the level of the human. Prima facie, The Ants is a catalogue of insect observations and observations of insects. But the exposé of insect life humbles and disrupts the myopia that is human life, where experience is seen in its most raw and animal form and human “nouveau-ambitious” and “free-thinking” lifestyles become estranged, uncovered, and humbled. Found in the soups of dumplings and remembered in childhood vignettes, these ants trail through what Nakayasu writes as the “industry of survival,” exploring interfaces of love, ambition, and strategy. The danger is not in sentiment, but rather, in a gash, a wall, an argument, an intention. Is it more lonely to be crushed into the core of a non-mechanical pencil, to be isolated in the safety of home, or to “find” “it” “all” at the very very last moment? The Ants is the distance, the break, the tenuous wilderness between exoskeleton and endoskeleton, and Nakayasu puts her finger on it, and it, and it.
SAWAKO NAKAYASU's books include So we have been given time Or, (Verse, 2004) Nothing fictional but the accuracy or arrangement (she, (forthcoming from Quale Press, 2005) and Clutch (Tinfish chapbook, 2002). Find more info here: http://www.factorial.org/sn/sn_home.html
A wonderful lesson about the way narrative can magically wander off wonderfully to discover aslant and astute insights (and exquisite images) located in the steadiest strangeness...a perfect collection!
Sawako Nakayasu’s The Ants is a master class in the economy of language and blurring the lines of personification and reality. So many of these vignettes are easy to read, form logical conclusions, and even spiral into riveting tangents. Found myself laughing many times. A huge undertaking in a small volume, the ants thrive in this literary world.
really don't know why i loved reading about ants and ants and more ants but i did. the writing style is definitely really strange. it's very blunt but at the same time the whole atmosphere the book gives off is very dreamy, i loved it.
This book crawled into my nose and out my ears and asked me where I put my brain to which I replied 'I think the ants carried it off with them somewhere.' As far as I know they are still out there carrying it around and carrying it, walking it toward Tokyo.
This is my third book by Sawako Nakayasu. While a huge fan overall, I found this title a bit lacking. The works stand well on their own--quirky vignettes that cover many perspectives of, well, ants. Including the POV of the ants themselves. But the prose rarely links together to make the book feel cohesive. I read this book with a lot of contemplation, but the potential I was hoping would reach a climax or even more subtle shift never quite got off the ground.
Hm. I have mixed feelings about this. I love weird poetry but something about these poems did not do it for me. And sometimes poetry is just like that.
I did find it cute. And then was thinking about how cuteness could be inherently violent as a fetishization of helplessness and often ascribed to asianness/femininity. I have too many mixed feelings but most of these poems just did not do it for me and that's okay.
I started reading this years ago, when I interned at Les Figues, but I never got around to reading the whole thing--it's hard to read for pleasure during grad school. But I finally finished it, and it is delightful. Is it poetry? Is it flash fiction? Both? Doesn't matter. Tiny pieces about tiny ants, often funny, sometimes breathtaking--what more could you want?
i love writing that uses animals/insects as a metaphor for human emotions and society and all that stuff - because not only do we learn more about society through that, it also bridges the gap between us and other animals because we're really not all that different. i loved this!!
I love a good through-line, love a good project book, love a good bug study. Here, Nakayasu zooms in on ants for a series of surrealist essays or microfables or oddball prose poems. While spending time with every entry, I felt myself imagining ants in my mouth, ants in my pillow, ants in a long line, waiting patiently, slowly making their way to the moon. As it should be, this book was highly recommended by Mathias Svalina during one of his Zoom workshops.