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518 pages, Paperback
First published September 11, 2018
[] the long history of male-centred society in Japan has produced female writers whose gaze possesses a sharper critical spirit.
spinning slowly all in unison, and Naomi found herself joining them, looking up into the sky just as she had before, but this time she felt she was falling, and...perhaps... they could go back to before they'd twisted their bodies in wicked prayer and find some other way to free themselves from a world become a living hell, and so she vowed that once they'd wound the world back a full nineteen years, they would take it in their hands again and make it theirs at last; on and on she spun, every revolution a prayer in reverse.
no Japanese can understand it, probably, if he's not my age. No Japanese who can have an ordinary conversation with an American, who can go to America and have Americans all around him without going crazy, who can see an American enter his field of vision and feel no need to brace himself, who can speak English without embarrassment, who condemns Americans, who applauds Americans, no Japanese like this can understand... what I have is an incurable disease, the Great American Allergy.
for a long while I was convinced that, with a few exceptions, early modern and contemporary Japanese literature was simply boring. There were many reasons for this, but foremost among them may be that the novels and stories we were assigned to read in school were pretty bad. My “I-novel allergy” was also quite strong back then (these days, to be sure, it has become less intense), and since you can’t hope either to make your way through or to understand modern Japanese literature if you’re going to avoid its constitutional predisposition to producing “I novels,” I made a conscious effort while young to avoid getting anywhere near Japanese literature.
"an eerie blue flash came from the sky"
"I felt neither pain nor fear but only a strange, almost light-headed sort of calm. The bright early morning sunlight had been replaced by a gloom like that of a rainy-season evening." [emphasis mine]
"A hush had fallen over everything. (The newspaper later said there was an 'instant pandemonium', but that was the writer's preconceived notion. In fact, an eerie stillness descended as if people, trees and plants had all died at once." [emphasis mine]
"All their faces had been hideously transformed [...] many of them now with severe burns. At first we didn't realize that their injuries were burns. There were no fires, so where and how could they have been burnt so badly? Strange, grotesque, they were more pathetic than frightening. They had all been burnt in the same way [...] Ash-coloured skin hung from their flesh, peeling off in strips like the skins of roast potatoes."