After reading Kyoto Nakajima's collection of short stories, I decided to read her novel, 'The Little House'.
The narrator of 'The Little House' is a former maid. She used to work in an elegant household in the years before the Second World War and during the war. She describes her experience then, her relationship to her mistress, the love and affection her mistress showered on her, her relationship to her young master, her mistress' son, and how she loved him like her own son, and an artist who worked in her master's company, who used to visit their home sometimes. The story also takes us back in time and describes that period vividly and brings it back to life. We get a beautiful view of Tokyo of the '30s and the '40s, and we discover how people lived then, what they thought, what they ate, what kind of work they did, whether women had freedom to live their lives the way they chose, or whether they were restricted by society's rules and familial pressure, how historical events affected the lives of normal people – this was after all the years leading up to the war and the actual war itself, when Tokyo was a repeated victim of American bombings and many parts of the city burned down – we learn about all these things through the eyes of our narrator. The love and affection and friendship between our narrator and her mistress is so beautifully portrayed in the story. There is a beautiful love story in the book too, and it is delicate and soft, with a lot of things unsaid. It was like reading an Izumi Shikibu poem.
I loved 'The Little House'. It is one of my favourite reads of the year. Kyoko Nakajima has written a few more novels. I hope they all get translated.
Sharing some of my favourite parts from the book.
#Quote1
"I’m now living in a one bedroom flat my nephew rented for me. The municipal housing I’d spent many years in was pulled down the month before last. Most of the residents there had been single elderly people, and we were given priority on this low-rent place, for which I’m grateful.
On the other hand, it’s one of these new-fangled, all-electric places and even when all you want is to run a bath, you have to press so many buttons it’s like you’re issuing orders to the electrical system, which is really quite exasperating.
My nephew’s second son very kindly came over to set it up for me so I can get by, but it’s a nuisance having to call them up whenever I can’t work it out.
Homes these days are very different to the way they used to be, and I don’t understand them anymore. I don’t feel attached to things and don’t mind where I live, but if I may be permitted to give my opinion, between you and me there was just one house where I was resolved to remain until the end. You may consider it strange and even impudent of me to wish to live out my days in the small servant’s room I was allocated in the house Mr. Hirai built in 1935, but that’s how I felt."
#Quote2
"The Hirais’ house had been constructed at the top of the narrow road that ran straight up the hill from one of the new stations on the private railroad that was rapidly expanding westwards as Tokyo grew. There were quite a few Western-style bungalows in the burgeoning residential area one stop along, but it was quite a rarity here and had instantly changed the atmosphere of the neighbourhood. Cosy yet also elegant with its striking red roof, the house had become a local landmark. I will never forget the scent of the seasonal daphne and osmanthus blossoms in the garden, or how the beautiful red roof was complemented by the dazzling fall colours of the maple tree and crimson-fruited rowanberry beside the front door.
That day I was sweeping up leaves outside the house when the Mistress opened an upstairs window and called out to me. As the breeze caressed her soft hair, several strands escaped her neatly bundled chignon and she smoothed them back down with her hands. It was such a natural move, but she looked sublimely graceful in that moment.
I liked doing my errands inside the house, and I liked gazing at it from outside, too. And I liked my room. I don’t think anyone would understand how much I loved that room, even if I did write about it."
Have you read 'The Little House'? What do you think about it?