It is no exaggeration to say that this IS my favorite book of Japanese literature I have read in recent years. In just 90 pages, it was full of tales of the first generation of immigrants in the US; the dilemma of the second generation; the life as an outsider in Japan; the rebellion against the hegemony of the English language, and a hint of melancholy thoughts of globalization. Kudzu, used as the symbol and a clue, was so impressive. The copy I read was from the library's collection, and I decided to buy one for my own collection just after reading several pages. Although this story did not win the Akutagawa Prize, it does not stop me from recommending this book to all my friends with similar experiences.