Please Look After Mom by Kyung-Sook Shin (Knopf)

None of Mom’s children give her much thought until the day she goes missing in a busy Seoul subway station. One minute she’s clutching her husband’s hand as he’s forcing his way down the stairs and then she’s gone. Before he realizes her absence, he’s already packed into a crowded car, unable to leave. When he returns to the spot where he last saw his wife, she has vanished. 

As they begin to search for her, her children realize they barely remember the date of her birthday.  Mom had submerged her celebrations into those of her husband’s, for the sake of convenience. In fact they don’t know her true age, their father tells them, because she’s older than her birth certificate indicates. They don’t have a recent photograph of her because Mom hated having her picture taken and nobody ever pressed the issue. 

When they think of the 69-year-old woman named Park So-nyo who turned out to be really 71, all they can think of is Mom, whose “house was like a factory,” filled with juices and sauces and pastes and fermented fish made by her own hands. All they remember at first when they think of Mom is how she perpetually worried that her children might go hungry and how she always made sure they were fed.

Their search is for a woman whom they barely know, one whose reported sightings are ghostly, in neighborhoods her children left long before.  As they try to understand the mystery of why she didn’t call any of them or why she hasn’t gone to a police station to ask for help, they begin to turn up fragments of memory--the unspoken knowledge that Mom is unable to read, the ignored signs of her ill health, the way she cared for her family unaided when their father temporarily abandoned his household.

As Mom gradually takes shape while still remaining elusive, each member of her family sees dimensions of her that they have constantly overlooked--her curiosity about one daughter’s trips abroad, her longing to read the books written by a child with whom she constantly battles, her hidden devotion to a brother-in-law who killed himself before her children were born, and her connection to “that man,” who is linked to her in a way that always remained a secret.

Mom slowly unfolds like a budding flower, in a shadowed fashion through the eyes of others. Only at the end of her story does she emerge with her own voice, and by then she’s taken on another shape, an unrecognizable form. 

In the relentlessly urban world of modern-day Korea, Mom is embarrassingly rural, only recognized for what she gives and how she nourishes once she has disappeared. Kyung-Sook Shin has created a delicate allegory, a fable built with spiderwebs, carefully and gracefully constructed. Her opening sentence echoes the stark lack of sentiment that characterizes the beginning of Camus’ The Stranger.  The famous “Mother died today. Or was it yesterday,” is matched by “It’s been one week since Mom went missing.” But unlike the narrator of the French classic, Mom’s children find their way into the compassion and tenderness of Shin’s final sentence, voiced to the Pieta, “Please, please look after Mom.”~Janet Brown

The Inugami Clan by Seishi Yokomizo, translated by Yumiko Yamazaki (ICG Muse)

Seishi Yokomizo is a Japanese mystery writer. He is the creator of the popular detective series Kindaichi. Kosuke Kindaichi is an unorthodox and unkempt man who is in his mid-thirties. He is “slightly built, with an unruly mop of hair” and wears “an unfashionable serge kimono and wide-legged pleated hakama trousers, both very wrinkled and worn - and he had a slight tendency to stutter”. 

He was the main character who solved the cases of “The Honjin Murders”, “Gokumon Island”, and “Yatsuhaka Village”, all previously published titles in Japanese with the titles of Honjin Satsujin Jiken, Gokumonto, Yatsuhakamura.

The Inugami Clan is his most popular and well-known novel once again featuring Kosuke Kindaichi. It was translated into English by Yumiko Yamazaki. The book has been adapted into a movie twice by the same director, Kon Ichikawa. The first adaptation was in 1976 which had the international English title of The Inugami Family and again in 2006 with the title The Inugamis.

Sahei Inugami is one of the leading businessmen in an area north of Tokyo. He is the founder of the Inugami Group and is also called the Silk King. His story is the epitome of the rags to riches as he was an orphan as I child, a drifter as a young adult, he is not even sure if his surname is really his own. He was taken in by a kind-hearted priest who nursed him back to health and treated him like his own son. 

Thanks to Daini Nonomiya, the priest of Nasu Temple, not only did Sahei recover. Under Nonomiya’s sponsorship and tutelage, he was educated and became the success that he is today. He never married but has three daughters who were all born of different mothers. He also adopted Tamayo, the granddaughter of his savior and mentor Nonomiya. 

Sahei Inugami is now on his deathbed and his children have gathered at the family home in Nasu. His eldest daughter Matsuko and her son Kiyo. Her husband died during the war. The second daughter Takeko and her husband Toranosuke, along with their son and daughter, Take and Sayoko. The third daughter, Umeko, has come with her husband Kokichi and her son Tomio. 

Sahei Inugami has never trusted the husbands of any one of his daughters and he had no love for them as well. None of the family voiced their true concerns - who would inherit the Inugami fortune, but before Sahei Inugami could make his last wish known, he died. However, he left his last will and testament which was to be read on the first anniversary of his death. 

Kindaichi has come to the Nasu region almost a year after Sahei Inugami’s passing. He received a strange letter from a man named Toyoichiro Wakabayasi from the Furdate Law Office in Nasu. The law office handles all legal documents associated with the Inugami Group. He has expressed to Kindaichi his fears that members of the Inugami family will be killed and would he come to Nasu to investigate the matter.

The day Kindaichi was to speak to Wakabayashi in person, he was found dead at the inn where Kindaichi was staying. Kindaichi had thought the letter might have been a prank but decided to come to Nasa to speak with Wakabayashi in person. Now he is dead and Kindaichi unwittingly finds himself investigating a new case concerning the Inugami family. 

Yokomizo creates a mystery involving all members of the clan that without a family tree may confuse the reader. Its main plot involves an inheritance dispute. Wakabayashi knew it would bring out the worst in all the family members After his death, a series of other murders will occur. Can Kindaichi solve yet another crime that he was only peripherally involved in?. Why did Sahei Inugami write such a convoluted will that left his entire fortune to Tamayo who isn’t even a blood relative? The secrets of the family may surprise you! ~Ernie Hoyt

Daughters of the Samurai: A Journey from East to West and Back by Janice P. Nimura (W.W. Norton and Company)

The wife of the Meiji Emperor Mutsuhito, Empress Hiroko, was by all accounts a child prodigy. When she was three she could read, she wrote poetry by the time she was five and was a student of calligraphy at seven. Now at 22 in 1871, she was “a modern consort” who joined her husband in welcoming the opening of Japan to Western industry and education.  Under her patronage, five Japanese girls were chosen to live in the U.S for ten years, all expenses paid by Japan, with the goal of receiving Western educations and returning to teach women in their country. 

Of the five, only one had any familiarity with English; six-year-old Ume was able to say “Yes. No. Thank you.” None of them were able to communicate with the American woman chosen as their chaperone during the voyage nor with the stewardess who was meant to bring them food and clean their cabin. Until finally one of the Japanese diplomats came to check on them, the girls lived on the boxes of desserts that were given to them as gifts when they boarded the ship.

In America the girls were treated as exotic curiosities in San Francisco and on the train journey that took them to Washington DC. On the train, they were so entranced by the vast outstretches of snow that the oldest became snowblind, damaging her eyesight so badly that she was sent back to Japan along with the girl closest to her in age. Now the remaining three were headed by eleven-year-old Sutematsu, followed by Shige who was just ten and Ume who turned seven soon after arriving in the states. The 24-year-old diplomat who had traveled and lived abroad for years and was described as “a Westerner born of Japan” was horrified when the girls were presented to him, especially taken aback by Ume. “They have sent me a baby,” he said with an undiplomatic display of horror.

It became obvious that the girls needed to be placed in separate homes if they were ever to learn English and become acculturated to Western  ways. Ume remained in Washington with a childless couple who immediately welcomed her as their daughter. Sutematsu was placed with the family of a Yale professor and Shige in the home of one of the professor’s friends. All three quickly adapted to the freedom and comfort of Western clothing and and the unaccustomed softness of pillows that weren’t made of wood. Although their hosts received money for their upkeep, the arrangements made for each girl were “more familial than financial” and within a year of their arrival in America, they had become part of their American families.

They flourished, becoming adept at croquet, chess, and lawn tennis. Ume, alone without Japanese friends, began to forget her language. Sutematsu had a brother attending Yale who was adamant that she remain Japanese, keeping her “moral code,” which he ensured by giving his sister lessons in Japanese culture, history, and language. Shige’s family welcomed a young Japanese student into their household who was smart, handsome and four years older than Shige. He provided an incentive for her to practice her native language as well as giving her a reason to look forward to returning home.

After several years at Vassar, she was the first one to go back to Japan at the end of her ten year commitment,  engaged to the handsome student. Not as driven as the other two girls, Shige happily became a piano teacher in Tokyo. 

Sutematsu however was an academic star. Both she and Ume applied for an additional year in the U.S. in order for them to graduate, Ume from high school and Sutematsu with a bachelor’s degree from Vassar. On the voyage home, they were both apprehensive. Ume, high-spirited and indulged, found herself wishing that the missionary passengers aboard ship were “not quite so quiet or good.” Sutematsu, when considering her imminent homecoming, said, “I cannot tell you how I feel but I should like to give one good scream.” 

Japanese public opinion had changed in the decade the girls had spent in America. Western ideas and education were viewed by many as a threat and the idea of educating Japanese daughters was being challenged. Shige, happily married and with limited ambition, repatriated with little difficulty. Sutematsu quickly discovered that marriage was the way to repay her debt to her family and her government. When a highly placed nobleman proposed, she put aside her idea of having her American sister join her in Tokyo, with the two of them forming an independent household and launching a Western school together, and married a man much older than she.  “What must be done is a change in the existing state of society, and this can only be accomplished by married women,” she wrote to her “sister” in America.

Ume had become thoroughly American and she refused to give that up. Her value as she perceived it was in her mastery of the English language--no matter that she was without any real fluency in Japanese. Her ambition was to be a spinster, independent with a teaching career, but she soon discovered that in Japan there was no word for spinster and old maids were pitied and disdained. Her stubborn willfulness paid off however. While Sutematsu’s brilliance was turned to the service of enhancing her husband’s career and Shige became blissfully domestic, it was Ume who used her charm and her determination to become an educator whose name is still known in Japan, with her family name emblazoned on Tsuda College for women and her accomplishments taught in elementary school social studies classes.

Janice Nimura has constructed a framework for the lives of these girls, delving deep into the tradition and history of the samurai class from which they came. Sutematsu was the one most steeped in this background of rigid discipline, having lived through the war between royalist progressives and feudalist warlords when she was old enough to help make the bullets that may have wounded her future husband. It was her iron-bound training that made her diverge from the career she trained for into the life of nobility, where her influence extended to establishing charity bazaars and hospital volunteers among the aristocracy. Ume, who had little discipline imposed upon her before her American life, was the one to break through traditional barriers, the ones that Shige welcomed. The stories of three displaced girls and how they prevailed and succeeded is one that deserves greater attention than it’s been given, and through Nimura’s skill and scholarship, this has finally taken place~Janet Brown

Tall Story by Candy Gourlay (David Fickling Books)

Candy Gourlay is a Filipino writer based in the United Kingdom. Tall Story is her debut novel, originally published in hardback in 2010. It has won the National Book Award of the Philippines in 2012 and the Crystal Kite Award for Europe in 2011. It was also shortlisted for a number of other literary awards. 

It centers on the story of two siblings or more precisely, a half-sister and a half-brother. Bernardo, named after his father, lives in a small village called San Andres in the Philippines with his aunt and uncle. He has a mother, a sister named Amandolina, and a step-father named William who all live in London. Bernardo has been waiting for years to get approval from the British government to allow him to move to the U.K. to be with his family. He has been waiting for sixteen years and…he’s still waiting.

Amandolina is thirteen years old but goes by the name of Andi (with an I) and loves playing basketball. Although she’s the “shortest and youngest on the team” she was chosen as the point guard for her school’s team. It’s a dream come true for her…until her dream is shattered when her mother tells her that they bought a new house and will be moving in two weeks. 

The other biggest news is that the Home Office has finally approved Bernardo’s papers. He will be coming to live with the family in London in two weeks. But here is something special about Bernardo. He isn’t your average, ordinary sixteen-year-old. He is rather tall for his age. In fact, he is taller than any of his peers or the adults that surround him. Bernardo is eight-feet tall!

Andi hasn’t seen her brother in ten years. She has only been to the Philippines once in her life, when she was three years old. The only thing she remembers from the trip is that there was a massive earthquake. After that, her mother refuses to take Andi with her to see Bernardo. 

The last time Bernardo’s mother visited, she was surprised by how tall he was. His father was only five-eight, and here he was at fourteen years old and already six foot tall. She took him to the doctor and the doctor said, “There’s nothing wrong with this boy”. Before she flew back to London, she made her sister promise to tell her if Bernardo gets any taller. He did, but Auntie and Bernardo never did mention that to his mother, and now this eight-foot young man would be headed to London. 

The people in Bernardo’s barrio believe he is Bernardo Carpio reincarnate. Bernardo tells them that no, “My name is Bernardo, after my father. And my surname is not Carpio. It’s Hipolito. Hi-po-li-to. Bernardo Carpio is a giant, everyone knows that. He’s a story, an old legend.”. But the people look at his eight-foot frame and just laugh. 

It was Old Tibo, the local barber who told Bernardo the story of Bernardo Carpio. He recited the story as he cut Bernardo’s hair. It was a time when Gods and mortals lived together and some fell in love. The children of these mixed marriages were giants, “who looked human but were of a magical size. They may not have been gods but they were immortal - unlike the human side of their families.”.

The giants who chose to stay on earth with their mothers lived peacefully for a time. But as they were immortal, after their mothers died, they people turned against them. Bernardo Carpio decided to fight back with kindness and had become a folk-hero to the people of San Andres. They believe that Bernado Carpio has returned to keep them safe from earthquakes. Who knows what will happen if they find out that Bernardo will be leaving them to live in London? 

The story is written through the eyes of Bernardo and Andi in alternating chapters. It is a coming-of-age story as well as a story of adjusting to a new culture and foreign culture. Gourlay also blends a bit of folklore and magic to add a bit of spice to the story that you won’t want it to end. ~Ernie Hoyt

Little Rabbit by Alyssa Songsiridej (Bloomsbury Publishing)

She’s thirty. He’s in his fifties. He’s established in his art, a  famous choreographer. She’s emerging into the art she practices, her one novel published by a small press that immediately went out of business. He has a country house in the Berkshires and an apartment with a view in Brooklyn. She lives with a roommate in a Boston suburb. He has a “clean, austere” beauty. She describes herself as “slump-backed and shabby…a hobbity gremlin.” His art is rooted in his body. Hers is within her brain. He leaves bruises behind when they have sex, during which she wears a soft, pink collar. He’s a white cis male. She’s gay, with tinges of bisexuality from encounters with “beta” men; her ethnic background is revealed only in passing, with her description of her mother--”the only Asian American-language poet of her generation.” He calls her Rabbit. She never says his name. 

It’s an easy matter to categorize this novel as 9 ½ Weeks meets “Me Too” but Little Rabbit  takes every assumption and turns it into confetti. “I’m not exactly Lolita,” Rabbit tells the choreographer at the beginning ot their liaison, “You don’t have to treat me like an egg.” In fact, she’s the one to initiate their sex and she’s the one who pushes to learn what lies on the other side of the choreographer’s “careful force.” She’s the one who’s eager to respond to pain and who demands of the choreographer that he abandon all restraint. She carries her bruises as though they’re gifts, and from this man who insists she’s “not a summer fling,” they’re reluctantly given to her.

He calls her Rabbit, not because she’s cute and tiny, but because he sees her as “small and wild and determined to survive.” “You have a master’s degree, skills. You can have a desk job, do other things, go anywhere. I can do only one thing,” he tells her. When she insists he rip her dress as they have sex, afterward he says “Let me fix it.” She says, “Break me.” He says “I love you.”

Both of them inhabit different forms of art, his made from physical motion, hers from words, and both of them marvel that the other can “take the thing we all use every day and make it art.” When each of them bring the other into their own work, they approach a painful boundary. When asked if she uses her husband in her poetry, Rabbit’s mother laughs. “Completely. But he knew what he was signing up for.” The choreographer seems to know that too but Rabbit is unsure.

This is a book about differences in economic class, education, sexual preferences, and age. What it is not about is differences in race. During a time in publishing when #ownvoices is the magic hashtag and fiction relies heavily upon racial identity, Rabbit is a writer, a sexual adventurer, a fierce and independent artist. Her bloodline isn’t one of her markers. 

Alyssa Songsiridej makes a bold leap in her first novel. She ignores race and she ignores victimhood. Only in the conclusion does she disclose the names of her puzzling couple, giving them parity without cruelty. Little Rabbit, I promise you, is like nothing you’ve read before. Don’t pass it up.~Janet Brown

Where the Wild Ladies Are by Aoko Matsuda, translated by Polly Barton (Soft Skull)

Aoko Matsuda’s book Where the Wild Ladies Are, translated by Polly Barton, won the 2021 World Fantasy Award for Best Collection. It contains seventeen short stories inspired by Japanese folk legends, kabuki theater, and rakugo, a type of comic storytelling art. At the end of the book is a short summary of the inspiration for each story. Originally published in the Japanese language as Obachan-tachi ga iru tokoro by Chuokoron Shinsha in 2016. All the stories have a common theme. The obachan-tachi or “wild ladies” are all ghosts. 

Smartening Up was inspired by the Kabuki play Musume Dojoji (The Maid of Dojo Temple) about a woman named Kiyohime who falls in love with a temple priest. After being rejected a number of times, Kiyohime’s love turns to hatred and she becomes a fire-breathing dragon. The priest runs to Dojo Temple and hides in the temple bell. The dragon coils itself around the bell, breathing out fire until the bell melted and the priest burned to death. 

After coming home from a beauty salon, a young woman is visited by her aunt who hanged herself the previous year after being spurned by a lover. Instead of seeing her son who was the one who found her, she turns up at her niece’s house to prevent her niece from following in the same footsteps as her and the niece discovers she has a dark power of her own.

The title story, Where the Wild Ladies Are was inspired by a rakugo story titled Hankonko (Soul Summoning Incense). The original story is about a ronin who rings a bell every night much to the consternation of the neighbors. They send a steward to complain to him but he informs the steward that he is saying the rites for his dead wife who gave him the “soul-summoning” incense. Whenever he uses it and rings the bell, she appears before him. The steward asks for some of the incense so he can see his dead wife as well, but the ronin refuses. The steward buys incense with a similar name but when he puts it on the fire, the neighbors only come to complain about the smoke. 

Shigeru, the son of the woman who hanged herself, has started a new job at an incense making company. His job is really simple. All he has to do is “watch the sticks of dried compressed incense that went streaming past him down the conveyor belt, and check that they weren’t misshapen or broken.” But he lost all motivation for work after discovering his mother had hanged herself with a bath towel. After that, he notices that all the employees he works with are middle-aged women. He senses something strange about the company but can’t put a finger to it. He even hears a song from his youth that his mother used to sing to him. As he listens closely, he also realizes it’s his mother’s voice. 

The best description of the entire book can be summed up in one word - quirky! The title of the book seems to be a play on the Maurice Sendak children’s book Where the Wild Things Are which also makes an appearance in one of the stories. There are fifteen other tales which are also linked to each other. Matsuda’s use of well-established stories and interpreting them in her own style makes for a unique reading experience. The stories can be enjoyed even more by reading where the inspiration for each story originated. ~Ernie Hoyt

Memories of the Memories of the Black Rose Cat by Veeraporn Nittiprapha, translated by Kong Rithdee (River Books)

Memories of memories, we all have them--stories of when we were small, told to us so often that they become a real and vivid part of our remembered pasts; events we’ve invented, so certain they occurred that they become embedded as false memories; tales about great-grandparents whom we never met but whose exploits are part of our own pantheon of stories that we tell and retell. 

Memory is a realm of evanescence, highly prized and easily lost. It’s the province of ghosts, spiderwebs, soap bubbles. A story emerges, shimmers, and vanishes, crowded out by many others. Which is real? Which is fantasy? 

This is the world where fiction was first invented. This is the world that comes alive in all of its gleaming spirals in Memories of the Memories of the Black Rose Cat. 

Thai author Veeraporn Nitiprapha was brought to the attention of western readers when Kong Rithdee translated her first novel, The Blind Earthworm in the Labyrinth, into English. Several years later Rithdee has done it again, translating Nitiprapha’s lapidary magic realism while never sacrificing the distinctive flavor of Thai storytelling.

This novel begins slowly with the pace of a tropical afternoon when a boy named Dao explores “a melange of tattered, warped memories,” ones he thinks perhaps were never his own but were given to him by someone else. His world is one of stories told to him by a grandmother who has disappeared from a house where he lives with his mother, a woman whose presence is spectral. Only when he enters the Rain Room does he ever see anyone else, a girl within a large mirror who looks oddly familiar to this boy who has never left his house and has never met a stranger.

Dao is a vessel for memories. He’s the last of what was meant to be a family dynasty, begun by Tong, a man from China whose body is covered with “black freckles like lightless stars…burnt-out constellations.” Tong’s success in his adopted country makes it possible for him to buy the big house near a pond covered with pink lotus blossoms, next to a forest of acacia trees that fill the air with blankets of yellow pollen. Through his house Tong’s children come and go, leaving only their stories behind. 

Truth and lies, success and failure, and the curse of death by water--none of Tong’s children lead happy lives, nor does the generation that follows them. The memories of the family are anchored by history and suffused with poetry. Their stories float through the house and into Dao’s mind like curls of smoke, defying linear rules of time or place. Not until the final pages of the novel is there a shadowy explanation, offered just after the shocking acts of violence that precede Dao’s existence.

Nitiprapha has the gift that made Virginia Woolf famous, one that lets her bend time to her own uses without sacrificing her story. Although Woolf and Garcia Marquez both come to mind while reading her novel, the world Nitiprapha creates is vividly and viscerally Thai. The history, the food, the ghosts, the lingering image-filled descriptions all provide entry points to a place that lives in the memories of memories, fading fast, seen in a blink of time before dissolving into “a fragment of deep longing.”~Janet Brown

The Rice Mother by Rani Manicka (Sceptre)

The Rice Mother is the debut novel by Malaysian born writer Rani Manicka. It is the multi-generational story of one family. All beginning with Lakshimi, the matriarch to six children, three grandchildren, and a great-grandchild. It is a story of love and loss, betrayal and deceit, and also of remorse and redemption. 

Lakshmi was born in 1916 in Ceylon, present day Sri Lanka..At the age of fourteen, Lakshmi is married off to a wealthy man named Ayah who has a job in Malaya. The man was much older than her and also a widower with two children. Unknown to Lakshmi or her mother, they were deceived by the man’s mother. Lakshmi discovers that he was not the wealthy businessman as described before getting married but with no option of returning home, Lakshmi decides to make the best of her life in this new land. 

Lakshmi has six children. The eldest are the twins Lakshmnan and Mohini. Lakshmnan was everything Lakshmi could hope for in a boy but it was Mohini that she was most taken with. She gave birth to the most beautiful girl the heavens could provide her with. After the twins came Anna, the strong and reliable daughter, followed by Sevenese who became enamored with his neighbor, the snake-charmer’s son. Sevenese also realized that the snake-charmer’s son was in love with his sister Mohini. The youngest was Lalita, everyone’s favorite. 

Life was mostly peaceful and grand. Then the Japanese came and for the three years of the Japanese Occupation, the Imperial Army committed a number of atrocities that the citizens would not soon forget. The most devastating blow to the family was the kidnapping and killing of their daughter Mohini. This act will change the life of all the members of the family. 

Lakshmi becomes inconsolable and turns into a cruel and nearly intolerable presence. Lakshmnan blames himself for his sister’s capture and loses himself to loose women and gambling even though he is married and has three children. Ayah was also taken by the Imperial Japanese Army and tortured and left for dead but survives and is only a shadow of his former self.

Of Lakshmnan and Rani’s three children, Dimple was the spitting image of Mohini. For Dimple, this was more of a curse than a blessing. Dimple decides to make a “dream trail” by asking and taping everyone in her family to tell their stories so she could understand herself. It isn’t until Dimple’s daughter Nisha grows up and is bequeathed a key from her father that will unlock the secrets of her past. 

I can’t imagine the suffering of losing a loved one during a time of war and how that death will affect everyone surrounding them, but even if the story is fictional, it can make your own family problems seem trivial in comparison. 

Manicka’s beautiful prose of this family epic sometimes reads as an ongoing storyline of an American soap opera such as Days of Our Lives or One Life to Live, not that that’s a bad thing. She writes in such a way that will have the reader gain an understanding to light the customs and manners of Tamil and Malay culture. ~Ernie Hoyt