It is the early eighties, and the housing industry is booming. Previously unpopulated mountainous areas of the Japanese countryside are being leveled to accommodate new waves of people. Similarly, a new wave of feminism, particularly a change in attitudes toward marriage and child-rearing, is growing among the women of Japan. Both the physical and social landscapes are in flux. In her early forties, married, and childless by choice, Kyoko has no compunction about getting what she wants. But when she begins a relationship with a man who is as traditional and conformist as they come, the result is at times uncomfortable, at others comical, but ultimately fatal.Beautifully written by Taeko Tomioka, a renowned poet, Building Waves is often droll in tone, but always touching in its portrayal of a culture divided, and ultimately swept away, by ferocious waves of change.
Bumping this up to 4 stars because I can’t stop thinking about it.
This was an interesting novel, but felt a bit over my head. I thought the depiction of all of the different women in the story was thoughtful- they all contrasted each other and represented different female archetypes. Kyoko, the protagonist, has an explicit affair with a man. She is supposedly married- but I had some doubts as to whether or not this husband really existed. Yoko, an unhappy middle-aged wife. Ayako, a younger, motherly figure who is naive and desperate to please. Kumiko, unsure of what she really wants. Amiko, a distraught mother after her husband cheats on her. Places itself nicely in the feminist movement of the 70’s and 80’s- what is a woman’s place? Does that change if you are married and/or have children?
There was a bit of existentialism here too- some of the depictions of nature and these sweeping “waves” of land in the background of scandal and infidelity- perhaps a reminder of the triviality of it all. Not to mention the development and urbanization of Japan. Reminded me a bit of Camus.
All in all- interesting. Just need to hear some more thoughts to get my own ideas in line.
Me ha gustado mucho que durante el transcurso del libro se traten los temas sobre el matrimonio sin hijos de la protagonista, la que aspira a ser madre soltera y la madre cuyo marido tienen una amante. Las distintas mujeres de la historia tienen una experiencia diferente de la vida y desean cosas muy distintas, todas esperan que se las comprenda pero no comprenden como Kyoko puede vivir en un matrimonio sin hijos y ser feliz. Pero Kyoko ni siquiera se pregunta si es feliz, ella te diría que no es infeliz.
Last night I fell asleep with two short chapters left to go in Building Waves, a novel by Japanese author Taeko Tamioka. I awoke from a fitful dream with what I thought was a brilliant revelation that the book should be read as a spooky ghost story where the narrator was really a spirit stirred up from the ground by all the bulldozers digging foundations for new housing developments, à la Poltergeist. It was like a light went on. The puzzle of the book was clear. I was a brilliant, insightful reader. I was in the front row of Freshman English again, with my hand up, going, "Ooh ooh! I know. I know." When I finished the book over warmed up spaghetti, at lunch, I skimmed back for tidbits to support and relish my dreamtime insight, but didn't really find anything that wasn't obvious from the beginning. What I DID find was that I had accidentally skipped over an entire 15 page chapter in the middle of the book. You know, the key chapter with the pivotal event that sets up the whole story and makes it, you know, make sense.
Well constructed story about tradition versus modernization and gender roles during Japan's go-go 80s. I was pleasantly surprised that the story expanded beyond the relationship that starts the novel to explore a diverse set of characters and types that populated middle-class 80s Japan. Narrator provides no easy answers, walked away that her philosophy wasn't necessarily "right" or "wrong," instead leaves good food for thought. Recommended.
I felt that it read like music. Dialogues can be without direct connections, yet somehow in tunes. Like flutes and violins having a dialogue. Very interesting.
One line that stuck with me-- for someone to be married yet decided not to have children, one must have a very strong ideology. Not the exact quote, but I believed it went something like that.
We are constantly swept by waves of change. Our conviction is the only thing we could hold on to get by.
3.5 - A surprisingly direct story from the 1980s, translated into English in 2012. It follows a middle-aged, childfree woman named Kyoko who is married but open about her sexuality and having an affair. It's pretty funny and fairly explicit. It focuses not only on the interpersonal relationships between Kyoko and her friends and neighbors but also deals with issues of tradition and modernity, gentrification, and gender roles. It asks the question of where a woman belongs when she is either childless or unmarried. We see a number of women who exist on the margins, including Kyoko's friend, Kumiko. Kyoko herself is unusual in that she seemingly doesn't question her choice not to have children, nor does she suffer society's censure. But there is something unsatisfying about her life and her marriage (her husband's presence is mentioned but rarely seen). I enjoyed it much more than Translucent Tree. I would recommend it as it is a nice example of modern, feminist Japanese literature but I think the story is little thin at times.
This was, at times, an excruciating read -- but only because it's sometimes meant to be. Tomioka's power as a poet comes into play, here, with her evocation of people, places, and sensory experiences rendered in simple language that is also hypnotically vivid. I felt like I was bouyed along the narrative rapids in a way that made it hard to put the book down, even though the plot is almost nonexistent.
I very rarely give five stars on first reads, but this novel felt like a punch to the gut, a kiss on the lips, and finally an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. This an incredible treatise on existentialist angst and longing, as if The Stranger had cared at all about women, consumerist culture, or modernity. I don't know, maybe I need to read it again before I write a coherent review. All I know now is: I just finished the book, and I miss it already.
1980-luvun japanilaista feminististä fiktiota. Päähenkilö Kyoko on nelikymppinen, naimisissa oleva lapseton nainen, joka aloittaa suhteen naimisissa olevan miehen kanssa. Juoneen kietoutuu Kyokon ystäviä ja lopulta kyse on erilaisista naisista yhteiskunnan ja parisuhteiden viidakossa. Nykyajan feministisestä näkökulmasta varsin vanhanaikaista meininkiä (lapsettomalla naisella täytyy olla lapsuustraumoja, lapsia saaneen pariskunnan on pysyttävä yhdessä aviomiehen pettämisistä huolimatta), mutta voisin kuvitella, että 1980-luvun Japanissa monet kirjan naisten välisistä keskusteluista olivat radikaaleja. Kuitenkaan en saanut kirjasta oikein otetta ja henkilöhahmot jäivät aika pinnallisiksi ja motiivit epäselviksi.
I was really enjoying this at first, but I confess then it just seemed rather meandering and it didn't really capture my full attention. I get that it is a commentary on gender roles and the changes going on at the time in Japan, but why was the first part, featuring just the narrator and the man, more interesting than the later part with so many more characters?
very surreal. felt distanced from the mc, like there was a sheet of mist btwn her and me, always obscuring her true thoughts. great insight into the feminist movement in japan. there's a lot to unpack here—this is the kind of piece that you have to sit with for awhile.
(Japanese lit class) 3.5 I really liked the first half and the second half was super confusing to me (Affair -> apartment complex and all of the names being added at once) but lots of memorable things still (veggie club, worms)
Really great book and I powered through it. The relationships written about in the book feel authentic and each character has so much depth - even the dolt
I really don't know what to think about this book. The main character had an interesting narrative voice, and she described the people around her in a vivid way. But I just couldn't get a hold of the book, it felt distant and cold.
It might very well be that my problems with the novel are due to my non existing knowledge of Japanese culture. I was surprised to read that the novel was described as feminist, but I guess at its place and time it was. It just felt very distant to my feminism.
An interesting read but not sure if it was an enjoyable one.