Written to be performed by a Japanese heritage cast, Suicide Forest is a bilingual play that breaks through the silence and submissiveness often associated with Japanese and Japanese American identity, exploring questions of emotional, psychic and social suicide through the playwright's lived stories and inner landscape.
If there's anyone out there who thinks a 121 page play can't pack a punch, I invite you to read Suicide Forest. Mental health, sexuality & kink, sexual assault, tumultuous mother/daughter relationships, generational trauma-- this book has it all. Learning about the author, Haruna Lee, their queer identity, and their experience as an Asian-American immigrant added even more layers for me to dissect while reading (and, apparently, hours after I've finished the book).
Translated literature fans, short book enthusiasts, indie press lovers, and psychological fiction stans: add Suicide Forest to your TBR!
Thank you so much to 53rd State Press for my review copy!
Gods and goats. Goats and gods. What to say about this play other than it was nothing like what I expected? I guess, given the title, I was prepared for more graphic imagery/hangings taking place in the Suicide Forest. Rather, I think the forest was characterized much differently (though of course, still trigger warnings for suicide). Actually, reflecting on the end of this play, I am genuinely heartbroken.
I would really recommend this. I don't know why more people haven't read it other than publicizing being a bitch.
Boy, what are my thoughts about this? I like the end better than the beginning [no spoilers...] I like that it does not care at all if you can read or speak Japanese and that it begins to be Asian American after awhile. It is very uncertain about what identity is and what it should be, and I'm HERE for that.
In Suicide Forest, Haruna Lee creates what they describe as a “Japanese, dark, psychic space.” Inspired by Adrienne Kennedy’s Funnyhouse of a Negro, Suicide Forest tells the fractured story of Azusa, a child’s life-sized doll come into consciousness, and Salaryman, a tortured businessman with no concrete sense of self.
The ending of the play, without giving anything away, is a moving departure from the narrative framework that launches the story. It’s one of those delicious examples of why theater is singular and inimitable as a form.
Simply, this play is gorgeous. It lives elegantly yet harrowingly on the page. Its most recent NYC production, directed by Aya Ogawa, was cut short by COVID-19, but the photos and videos which exist from the show only reify the theatrical feat that is this furious, melancholy piece of writing.
i don’t really know how to describe my thoughts to be honest. it’s provocative and unique, that’s for sure.
that being said, tho, i did not get the point of the play until i read the author’s notes at the end. there was a lot going on and it wasn’t really connected until the end. and as a personal preference i don’t really like meta-moments in plays.
i think the merit of this play would be in the discussion that comes from it, not necessarily the actually acts themselves. and since i sit here in a tokyo library with no one to talk to, i can only base my review on how much i enjoyed reading it
in a couple years ill try rereading it with the intended message in mind
A great, form bending play that explores ugly internalized self loathing in Japanese stereotypes before opening up to explore the performers and attempt to exorcise personal trauma. Would love to see designers take a crack at this nightmare 90’s japan/suicide forest space.
I saw Haruna recently in Nosebleed and was impressed with the overall play and acting, I sought to learn more and stumbled upon the Suicide Forest and finished it in a quick read. Wow, can imagine it would had been quite a play. Def some strong themes here, enjoyable all in all.
A deeply incredible and haunting read. I wish I could see this performed, but these profound words on emptiness, cultural identity, and sexuality stand alone on the page.
Now, everything is mixing and breeding at an electric speed, the pure with the profane, the profane with the profane... and everybody is going to hell.
A deep exploration of depression tied to the linkage between work, family, and professionalism in the case of the salaryman. Azusa desire for agency and adulthood was also an interesting aspect of character. I’m going to be honest I need to reread this to fully appreciate it.
This play changed my life. I love reading the play, although it’s never as good as seeing it in person. I hope they revive this again in the future. … I re-read it today, and I still can’t get over the way Haruna weaves together intergenerational trauma throughout the book into an ending of healing and freedom from the bonds of that along with the bonds from being Asian American. It is so gutteral and achingly beautiful. Haruna’s ending monologues and interactions with Mad Mad (their mother) in particular, feel like the words are reaching out and squeezing my heart. It’s healing to hear someone say all the complex feelings I myself also feel from being mixed, Asian, and Asian American. I hope more people make art like this. I want to make art like this.