Shuji Terayama has written an excellent, absurdist collection of 'adult fairytales'. It's a fascinating style of writing, because it seems to be tragic and sad with every ending, but is also at the same time peppered with dark humor and a lighthearted mood of the writer, who casually breaks the narration wall by switching to 'I' on a whim, with no explanation whatsoever.
While I found each story very sad, they were also somewhat uplifting, because within each one there were so many moments of increased appreciation for the things we take for granted, such as in "Flame", where an entire town suddenly cannot start fires and begin to realize their own personal flames were also unlit as well.
This 'sardonic silliness', as one might call it, is bitter then sweet: it is a bit of a mood killer at first, but with the right outlook—at least, from my point of view—each tragic tale can enhance the tastes and views and everything we experience within our lives. This is through seeing just how easily, cruelly, and absurdly—without reason or rhyme—the things we appreciate or want can ruin us or be taken away. And within that lens, Terayama manages to uplift the reader through sharing his own pain and fear of abandonment by his mother, aching to know his dead father (who died when he was 9 year old), and longing for siblings he never got to grow up with. Knowing that, beneath these absurdities, he is someone with a childish heart who perhaps wants to purge his pain, but also share it with his reader through common-place situations of loss, veiled by ironic allegories and wild fantasy.
That's my interpretation, anyway.