An interesting version of the essay-as-novel; it's a work of fairly generic literary existentialism (Japanese style), juvenile, moderately interesting, but humorless (the key to the great works of LitEx being that they're funny: Bernhard, Kafka, even Dostoevsky). And then, in the last few pages, Shiraishi somehow leads us into something interesting and affecting and moral and touching. I have no idea how he pulls it off.