Me siento un poco mal diciendo que esta novela es un perfecto acompañamiento a la película del mismo nombre, pero es que realmente es un complemento perfecto. Que no se me entienda mal, "Un asunto de familia" la novela es una novela. No es un "guión con cosas", ni una simple estructura que necesita de ver la película para tener sentido: es una novela completa, con entidad propia, que funciona bien como novela. No es necesario haber visto la película para entenderla ni para disfrutarla. No se trata de una novelización estricta. Incluso por algunas de las escenas del libro, más parece que Kore-eda primero hubiera escrito la novela y luego hubiera rodado la historia (no sé si es así, pero no me extrañaría).
Se trata de un complemento perfecto porque mientras las películas de Kore-eda están llenas de silencios y de información implícita, la novela lo explicita todo: los pensamientos y las motivaciones de los personajes, sus pequeños secretos y su pasado. Así que sirve muy bien por si alguien se quedó con dudas tras ver el filme.
¿Es la película mejor que la novela? Sí. La película es notable mientras que la novela, siendo entretenida, no llega a tanto. De todas formas es muy fácil de leer, los personajes están muy bien perfilados y la visión de ese Japón menos conocido (el de las clases más desfavorecidas) es un gran aliciente. Tal vez Kore-eda sea mejor reflejando emociones mediante imágenes, pero sus dotes como escritor no son nada desdeñables. Al fin y al cabo, toda buena película necesita un buen guión.
Esta historia empieza fuerte. Un padre y su hijo encuentran a una niña sola mientras vuelven a casa y deciden llevarla con ellos. En principio con la intención de ayudarla y devolverla luego a sus padres pero, entre unas cosas y otras, pasan los días y no lo hacen, hasta que es demasiado tarde y se la quedan. En ese tiempo vamos conociendo a la pequeña y la historia de esta familia que la ha 'acogido', porque no es exactamente un secuestro. Y lo que en un principio parece la convivencia de una familia como cualquier otra poco a poco va mostrando pequeños detalles que la hacen peculiar y diferente. La relación entre cada miembro, su historia, la forma en la que han llegado a estar juntos... Nada es lo que parece y te encuentras dudando durante todo del relato y pensando qué es lo que está pasando ahí realmente.
Todos los personajes llevan una mochila a cuestas, un pasado que les ha marcado y les ha llevado hasta allí, y me han parecido muy interesantes y entrañables, con sus luces y sombras. Ninguno es perfecto, han cometido fallos, pero terminé sintiendo cariño hacia ellos. Y aunque el fondo de la historia me ha gustado mucho lo que no me ha convencido del todo ha sido la forma de contarla, como si alguien la estuviera narrando desde la distancia, se quedara en la superficie y no se atreviera a meterse de lleno en ella. ¿Puede ser característico de la cultura y de su forma de ver y contar las cosas? Puede ser. Pero yo he echado en falta un poco más de profundidad.
Sí me ha sorprendido descubrir un Japón no tan conocido, el de los barrios periféricos, donde también hay pobreza, miseria, supervivencia, violencia, ¿conformismo? Son aspectos que no se suelen relacionar con la visión que tenemos de este país y me ha gustado mucho saber de esa realidad y acercarme un poco a ella.
"(...)El autor propone un modesto drama familiar sobre los oportunistas en las zonas residenciales marginales de la sociedad. Un foco al lado más humano de la literatura contemporánea que, si eres fan de estos temas, te atrapará."
Me costó entrar en la historia, porque la narración es muy especial; o que, en realidad, se trata más de que se aleja de lo que estoy acostumbrada, más occidental, y la expresión de emociones o descripción de escenas es muy diferente a lo que suelo leer y por eso cogerle el ritmo se me hizo un poco más difícil. Eso también es parte de la riqueza de la historia, ya que no es más cómo se entretejen las diferentes escenas cotidianas de una familia que no es realmente una familia pero no por eso deja de serlo, y lo interesante y lo que al final me ha gustado es cómo se plantean las escenas, lo simples y sencillas que son y todo lo que encierran detrás.
He terminado encariñándome con los personajes, aunque al principio me parecieran un poco exagerados por su peculiaridad, y me encanta cómo se mueven entre ellos. Por eso el último capítulo del libro me parece un final muy emotivo y muy crudo a la vez, y que le da fuerza a toda la novela para que se quede un poco más ahí. Creo que me acordaré de ella un tiempo.
La película es la que me llevó a leer la novela, que además la escribió el director. Es un calco de la película aportando un poco más de información. Muy recomendables ambas
Ce livre est un pur petit bijou. Le nombre limité de pages de ce roman m’empêche de trop vous en dire sans risquer de vous dévoiler l’essentiel. Je vais donc essentiellement me centrer sur mon ressenti. Durant cette lecture, on rit, on pleure, on sourit, on apprend, on s’interroge, on constate. On en prend plein les yeux et plein le cœur. Oui, mais pourquoi ? Pour comprendre, revenons un peu sur la genèse de ce petit phénomène : Une affaire de famille, c’est d’abord un film. Sur les écrans depuis quelques jours, il avait fait grand bruit en remportant la Palme d’Or du Festival de Cannes en Mai dernier. Le réalisateur Hirokazu Kore-eda, loin d’en être à son coup d’essai pour ce qui est de faire des films qui marquent les esprits, a eu l’excellente idée d’en faire une adaptation littéraire sortie, elle, le mois dernier chez JC Lattès. Pour cela, aucun besoin d’effets spéciaux ou de séquence spectaculaire. Juste l’histoire d’une famille. Ou, plus exactement, de différentes personnes décidées à être une famille. Car c’est bien là le cœur même de l’histoire : ils n’ont pas besoin d’être du même sang pour s’aimer, pas besoin d’être riches pour offrir, nul besoin d’attendre en retour pour donner. Et n’allez pas croire que c’est un de ces jolis contes de Noël où les beaux sentiments finissent par l’emporter sur les autres considérations, parce que d’autres considérations, il n’y en a pas justement. Quand on est pauvres au point de devoir voler pour survivre et que l’on décide de s’occuper d’une enfant plus mal lotie encore, que peut-on espérer avoir à lui offrir si ce n’est l’exact essentiel : du bonheur ? La sécurité affective, à défaut de matérielle. Un nid chaleureux, à défaut de douillet. Mais même les meilleures intentions ne sont pas exemptes de mauvaises surprises, et les bonnes actions d’aujourd’hui peuvent mettre en lumière les lourds secrets d’hier. S’il y a bien une chose que Mr Kore-eda met ici en lumière c’est que même lorsque l’on ne possède rien, il reste toujours quelque chose à perdre. Une histoire belle et sombre, simple et humaine, contemporaine et intemporelle. Un condensé de sentiments. À lire et à faire découvrir au plus grand nombre.
Shoplifters aka Manbiki Kazoku, written and directed by Hirokazu Koreeda 10 out of 10
Given that Manbiki Kazoku has won the Palme d’Or at the 2018 Cannes Film Festival and this is the most important cinematic prize, in terms of value confirmation for a motion picture, we could be talking about the best film of the year.
It is also nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film of the Year, the Golden Globe, the BAFTA – all in the same category - and so many other prestigious prizes, at different festivals around the world. The fabulous motion picture looks at life on the edge of Japanese society, where destitute people live – this could be the tale of any family, in rich or poor countries, although the setting in one of the most advanced economies on the planet makes the plot even more heartbreaking.
It must be said that for all the derived admiration that we have for Japan, there are quite a few aspects that are appalling – from the massacre of extremely intelligent and loveable mammals, dolphins – exposed in the wondrous The Cove – whales – which the country wants so much to kill that it has recently withdrawn from the international body that supervises such activities, to the outré justice system that has shocked people since autumn last year. Carlos Ghosn may have embezzled money, dodged taxes, but his case has shown the globe that in Japan, suspects are treated harshly – to say the least – and the presumption appears to be that they are guilty, once the prosecutors or the police arrests them and not vice versa, considered innocent until proven guilty.
Lily Franky is wonderful in the role of Osamu Shibata – funny how the actor’s name suggests a woman, but he is a man – the Shoplifter in chief, who teaches first Shota Shibata aka the exceptional teenager actor Jyo Kairi to steal from shops and then Yuri Hojo aka the phenomenal, perhaps only four years old Miyu Sasaki. He has an explanation when he would eventually have to talk with an official and he states that there is nothing else he knows and he could teach the young ones – this is a replica given when he is confronted with the notion that maybe he should have felt guilty about what he did with the children.
One of the major merits of this outstanding feature is the complexity of the characters and the story, for we do not have the usual figures that make the audiences cheer for them and weep when they are caught – well, maybe some would be moved to tears following some events in shoplifters.
However, Osamu Shibata and his companion, Nobuyo Shibata aka the formidable Sakura Ando, are not just petty criminals – as we would find quite late in the narrative – but in the complicated personas, they harbor a generosity, sense of duty, compassion, spirit of self-sacrifice that law abiding citizens lack for the most part. Osamu Shibata has just stolen from a shop, with his accomplice, the young Shota, when they see a girl that seems to be only four, who is out in the cold and he feels sorry for the child and takes her to the simple, poor place where five of them already share a very small space.
The two personages that have not been mentioned yet are the grandmother, Hatsue Shibata aka Kirin Kiki and Aki Shibata aka Mayu Matsuoka, the latter works in an erotic chat outfit, where men come to private rooms to pay and watch young women masturbate and perform acts that they call for. Grandmother visits a family that pays her money – she is always dissatisfied with the amount which she receives after formally and politely refusing – and the others see her pension as a crucial part of their finances, which are stretched to the limit, for they have very little to spend.
Nobuyo and Osamu think about returning Yuri, aware that keeping her could be kidnapping, but when they go to the flat where her parents are, preparing to leave her, they hear the violent fight, blows being exchanged and words that make clear that the father – perhaps the mother too – has not wanted the girl who was definitely abused when she lived with her monster parents. Yuri has the physical and psychological scars that are the result of this “family life” and the poor, destitute couple decide to keep the girl, facing the possible dire consequences and knowing that this is another mouth to feed, but also stating that since they do not ask for a reward or any money, this could not possibly be construed as blackmail.
Since this is not a story about good, kind, generous heroes that happen to live in squalor, there is a dark side to the character of the protagonists and they teach the four year old how to participate in their criminal acts, where she is the one who unplugs the security system at the door, when Shota steals a couple of expensive fishing lines, but eventually he realizes that he does not want to do this anymore. Therefore, he wants to be caught and he is and the family has to face one trauma and adversity after another – trying to run and abandon one member of the group, showing yet again how complicated a human being can be – one moment he gives all he has for the other and the next thing we know is he walks off without saying goodbye.
They bury one family member within the premises of their own small place – for spoiler alert reasons no names or details would be mentioned – and we discover more gruesome aspects, while at the same time maintain a compassion and even admiration for people whose life has been very hard, they have been pushed to the wall and still maintained decency and values, morals. Yes, they are obviously far from perfect and seem to be destined to pay for mistakes and crimes – some of them anyway – but in their unfortunate position they found the heart to take a child in and care for her much better than her vicious parents ever did, raising the question – if she ever returns to them, would that not be a downfall, instead of a restoration, redemption?
Shoplifters is a glorious achievement, even if all the major prizes, expect for the Palme d’Or, will be won by Roma this year – another fundamental motion picture http://realini.blogspot.com/2018/12/r...
La familia tradicional aquella que se crea por los lazos de sangre se pone en duda en este libro. Hay una familia pero su código de actuación es muy distinto. Se ha formado de otra manera, se puede decir que los miembros han escogido. Tienen un pasado, algún secreto que les une. Pero son felices en esta familia han encontrado algo que les faltaba. Entre ellos se apoyan e incluso se quieren aunque no lo digan.
Cuốn sách này làm cho người đọc bất giác thấy sự cô đơn có ảnh hưởng tệ như thế nào đến với cuộc sống của con người. Những thành viên trong GIA ĐÌNH TRỘM CẮP tuy sống chung và tạo nên một tổ chức “gia đình”. Tổ chức “gia đình” ấy tuy chỉ là một nơi thấp kém nằm dưới đáy xã hội ở một đất nước có sự phát triển, nhưng nơi ấy đã mang đến cho người đọc hiểu đươc: Điều gì thực sự làm nên một gia đình.
Có phải gia đình chỉ được công nhận khi những thành viên phải có sự liên hệ ruột thịt với nhau? Hay chăng gia đình là sự công nhận của xã hội? Những câu hỏi ấy, vô tình khơi lên cho chúng ta sự chông chênh liệu tổ ấm mà mình đang gắn kết có thực sự là một gia đình hay chưa?
Với mình GIA ĐÌNH TRỘM CẮP đã vẽ nên chiếc vòng gắn kết sự cô đơn giữa con người với nhau. Ở đó có người đàn ông tên Osamu và một phụ nữ tên Nobuyo, cả hai là những người lao động tay chân với đồng lương không thể bèo bọt hơn, họ đến với nhau sau những đổ vỡ trong cuộc sống. Ở đó còn có cô gái trẻ Aki làm việc trong một câu lạc bộ phục vụ tình dục. Cậu bé 10 tuổi Shouta bị cha mẹ bỏ rơi và người bà lớn tuổi Hatsue, người chủ căn nhà cả 5 người đang sống. Năm thành viên nối kết nhau hình thành nên một vòng tròn gắn họ lại với nhau, dẫu cho sự gắn kết ấy quá lỏng lẻo. Giữa họ không có gì đảm bảo, có thể hiện tại họ là một gia đình, nhưng không ai biết liệu sáng mai thức dậy gia đình ấy có thực sự tồn tại hay không. Dù bất an, không có sự đảm bảo nhưng 5 con người ấy vẫn chấp nhận sống cùng nhau, họ vì nhau cố gắng từng chút, từng chút một cho “gia đình” của mình.
Dù tác giả Kore-eda Hirokazu mô tả một hiện trạng tối tăm của xã hội, phơi bày nhiều góc khuất trong nội tâm con người; nhưng cuốn tiểu thuyết GIA ĐÌNH TRỘM CẮP khơi dậy ở người đọc niềm tin về tình yêu thương, tình người trong cuộc đời. Cuốn sách nhắc nhớ người ta sự tồn tại của công bằng, rằng mọi sự phạm pháp đều phải trả giá.
Más allá de la oda preciosa a los vínculos no-familiares y las familias elegidas que es ❤️🩹.
Me ha hecho pensar en cómo socialmente hemos aceptado no-empatizar con quien actúa de forma “amoral” sin que nadie se cuestione si realmente esas personas no tenían otra opción que actuar de esa manera, si la vida/entorno/familia/sociedad realmente no les ha empujado a ello y cómo, en cambio, normalizamos un sistema de castigo penal y social sin excusas ante las malas acciones aunque no sirva de mucho y no nos ayude a entendernos.
Kore-eda nos cuenta la historia de una preciosa familia de “amorales”, que roban, “secuestran”, timan, a los que el mundo ha tratado de la peor manera y aún así encuentran en ellos amor, cariño y cuidados que dar a otros.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Probably is going to be my favorite read this year.
I felt like there should be a better ending but on the other side, this might be as best as an ending could be for a story like this one. A person's life could feel like a maze if you doesn't have the god's vision (which in real life we really don't), we often feel stuck and misunderstanding arises, coincidence that makes you feel like this is how things supposed to be but the truth is this is all arbitrary. But there's no way of knowing.
brb, going to watch the movie for I had heard good things only about it. Thank you the author for a heartwarming story!