A graphic novel in flat black and white with simple but energetic lines and a playful use of perspective, this memoir is made up of little vignettes that form a picture of MariNaomi in their early twenties as they get a job in a Japanese hostess bar in San Jose, try to learn Japanese in order to reconnect with their heritage, and then spend three months in Japan.
Japanese hostess bars are bars that hire women to entertain male clients, making them feel, I guess, important and valued by chatting with them, drinking with them, dancing with them, and singing karaoke for them. These bars are, as you might imagine, a hotbed of misogyny and social (and sometimes sexual) coercion. It is not a good time, and Mari comes out of the experience a bit shook. That doesn't stop them from taking another job at a hostess bar in Japan, though.
Mari is a bit opaque to the reader. Their relationship with their partner felt more like inertia than a partnership. I had no sense of why they were together or what they liked about each other. We don't even see Mari studying Japanese. This is very much a this happened, that happened, this happened form of storytelling, with very little personal reflection, but even if I didn't get a good sense of who Mari was as a person, I was interested in their experiences, and the art makes this very enjoyable to read.
While the book is populated with squirmy, diseased looking kanji that indicate Japanese inscrutable to the author, there is very little actual Japanese. Instead, in true comic book fashion, dialogue translated from another language is shown in angle brackets. And here, MariNaomi does something interesting with their own attempts at Japanese, translating it literally and giving the impression that their Japanese is weird and stilted because the English translation is, but if you know Japanese, you know that Mari is probably speaking grammatically correct, if perhaps overly self-conscious Japanese, just without the confidence and style of someone more familiar with the language. So you get translations like, "As for me, I am chilly." Weird in English. Perfectly fine in Japanese. Same goes for their response of "No. Stomach full!" when asked if they want something to eat. That is literally how you express hunger in Japanese, by stomach contents. Mari doesn't do this with the Japanese of native speakers, translating those sentences more naturally, and this conceit even falls away somewhat in their own Japanese as they get more comfortable with the language. It's a neat way of showing facility with a language without being overly cartoonish about it, and I appreciated the thought that went into it and was happy (through my own rudimentary Japanese) to recognize the joke they were making at their own expense.
The author includes their own content notes on the verso page, which I love to see, though they aren't very detailed ("mental health"??) and also leave out some major themes.
Contains: sexual assault (groped by a customer); racist language, attitudes, and slurs (though they're blacked out); panic attacks and anxiety; fear of needles; disordered eating; illness; depictions of a drastically underweight nude body.