(Reprinted from the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com]. I am the original author of this essay, as well as the owner of CCLaP; it is not being reprinted here illegally.)
So for those who don't know, one of the literary social networks I belong to online is the great LibraryThing.com; and one of the things LibraryThing does that none of the other literary social networks do is actually set up official partnerships with various publishers, so that hundreds of free books manage to get into the hands of their members each month, in return for those members doing write-ups of those books afterwards. It's a highly competitive lottery, one I usually lose each month; but lo and behold, I actually got chosen for one of these free titles earlier this year, the controversial story cycle Lala Pipo by Japanese author Hideo Okuda. See, it's a series of six short stories, all of them concerning dysfunctional losers and the various kinky sexual activities they are into; but all of the stories are connected as well, with the main characters of each appearing as incidental characters in all the others.
But I don't know if it's just the cultural differences between Japan and the US, or perhaps a mediocre translation, but the fact is that this book mostly comes off as hideously bitter and misogynistic, when it was clearly meant to be a dark comedy; the majority of it, frankly, concerns the various ways that women in Japanese society are abused and bullied and humiliated during sexual situations there, with the author coming dangerously close in many passages to espousing a kind of nihilistic approval of the activities, a sort of attitude that seems to say, "The world is coming to an end anyway, so why not slap the b-tches around as much as we want?" Granted, that's a bit of an unfair generalization about this book, with it actually being more complicated than such a statement would make it seem; but for sure these stories are all wrist-slashingly depressing and almost apocalyptic in their sexism, which is surprising for a writer who is described on the back cover as one of the most popular comedic authors in Japan. It's a huge issue in Asia right now, the future of gender relations there, ever since the "Super Free" rape-club controversy erupted there in 2003 (for those who don't know, every year in Japan there are tens of thousands of gang-rape and public-groping crimes reported to the police); I would encourage you to look at this book as more of a serious examination of those kinds of issues, and not as the erotic black comedy its American publishers are promoting it as.