Penance by Kanae Minato, translated by Philip Gabriel (Mulholland Books)

Kanae Minato may be the queen of Japan’s psychological thriller. She is the author of the award winning novel Confession, titled Kokuhaku in Japanese. Penance is her third novel and is her second to be translated into English. It was originally published in Japan in 2012 with the title of Shokuzai which is often translated as atonement. However, in this novel, penance is the more appropriate term. It was translated from the Japanese by Philip Gabriel who is a professor of Japanese literature in the Department of East Asian Studies at the University of Arizona. He has also translated short stories and novels by Haruku Murakami.

Penance was also made into a television mini- series. It is just as disturbing as her previous novel Confession. It is the story of five childhood friends. One summer during the Obon holidays while the girls are playing on the school grounds, they are approached by a man. Soon, one of the girls is dead and the man has disappeared. Unfortunately, for the grieving mother and the police, not one of the girls can remember the face of the man and he was never caught.

At the time of the incident, the young girls were only ten years old. Their names are Sae, Maki, Akiko, Yuko, and Emily. Except for Emily, the girls grew up together in a small rural town. The only thing the town was known for was having the cleanest air in Japan. And because of this, Adachi Manufacturing decided to build a factory there to make their precision instruments. Heading the factory was Emily’s father. 

Three years later, the police still have no leads and the killer is still on the loose. Asako, Emily’s mother, asks the girls, who are now thirteen, to come to her house. She tells the four girls that if they can’t find the murderer, then they should atone for their crimes in a way that will satisfy her. If they don’t, Asako said she will take her revenge on each and every one of them. 

Emily’s mother moves back to Tokyo and the four girls get on with their lives and gradually forget about the threat Asako made against them.  The statute of limitations for the crime against her daughter is about to take effect (although this law has been amended in Japan in 2010 for capital offenses) and the death of her daughter remains a mystery. Fifteen years later, Asako’s threat comes back to haunt all four of them.

Kanae Minato’s novels are dark and chilling. They also make you think. If you were as young as they were when one of your friends was killed, what would you do? Would you be able to take charge like Maki who gave her friends directions before seeking help as well? Would you have been able to go to the police like Yuka? Would you be able to sit near a dead body on your own like Sae? Would you have handled informing Emily’s mother more tactfully than Akiko when Emily’s mother asks her where Emily is only to be told, “She’s dead”? If you know the killer is still on the loose and has seen your face, would you live in constant fear until he is caught? 

And of course the biggest question remains. Will the killer be caught before the case reaches its statute of limitations? ~Ernie Hoyt

Ghosts of the Tsunami by Richard Lloyd (MacMillan)

There are catastrophic events that are just too big for the human mind to absorb. On March 11, 2011 an earthquake hit Japan, the fourth most powerful ever recorded, measuring between 9 and 9.1 on the Richter Scale. It lasted for six interminable minutes, during which it knocked the earth ten inches off its axis, moved Japan four inches closer to Alaska’s Aleutian Islands, and generated a 120-foot tsunami that struck less than an hour after the shaking stopped.

Japan is accustomed to earthquakes and its national protocols are firmly in place. Swiftly all the country’s highways, airports, and railways were shut down. Along the coast, tsunami warnings were broadcast. However in that crucial period between quake and wave, nobody knew exactly how strong the earthquake had been. Nor could they envision the size and power of the approaching tsunami.

When the wave struck, it caused a meltdown of three reactors in Fukishima’s nuclear power plants. The death toll measured 18,500 and half a million of the survivors were left homeless. Richard Lloyd Parry, who lived in Tokyo with his family, described the aftermath as a “disordered dream…like a huge and awkwardly shaped package without corners or handles.” Despite his years as an Asian-based journalist, he found that this story was almost impossible to convey in words. It wasn’t until he went to Okawa, a tiny river town on Japan’s northern coast, that the horror became imaginable.

Seventy-five children died in the tsunami. Seventy-four of them died in the schoolyard of the Okawa Elementary School, where they had proceeded in an orderly fashion once the school stopped shaking. With them were eleven teachers. Out of 108 students, only thirty-four children and one teacher survived.

The school was located in front of a seven-hundred-foot hill. As parents dug their dead children out of the field of mud that the tsunami left behind, some began to wonder why the teachers hadn’t led their pupils up that hill. This issue became far more pointed when the time frame was widely known. The earthquake was over by 2:46. The tsunami arrived at 3:37, pushing its way up the nearby river.

A parent who came immediately after the quake to pick up her daughter had urged the teachers to take the children up the hill. She was told that she was over-reacting. Two boys later made the same suggestion. They were ignored. 

When the school’s emergency manual had been written, nobody thought of tsunamis as being a danger. The procedure recommended for one was almost criminally vague. 

The national ability to accept earthquakes without panic had leached into the reactions of the teachers at Okawa Elementary School and that, along with an ingrained deference toward authority figures, led to a tragedy that became a country-wide issue. But even as the facts slowly came to light, the parents of the dead children grew divided to the point of hatred. The ones who wanted justice through the courts were seen as betrayers of a national code of honor by the others. “Why lay blame,” asked one mother whose child didn’t survive, “What do you expect to come of it?”

By concentrating on one small area of Japan, Parry has made the disaster that wracked the entire country heartbreakingly comprehensible. Interviews with grieving parents, a student who survived, and a man who swam out of the wave through the front door of a friend’s house will make anyone who lives in a coastal community on a fault line begin their emergency planning while searching for the closest high ground.~Janet Brown

Little Soldiers by Lenora Chu (HarperCollins)

“I am a little soldier, I practice every day.” When Lenore Chu overhears her little son singing this in Mandarin, she takes it in stride. After all, he’s already serenaded her with The East is Red, extolling Mao as the “Great Savior.” This is Rainey’s second year as a student in an elite Shanghai kindergarten and he and his parents have all made sizable adjustments during that time.

Chu and her husband feel fortunate when their three-year-old is accepted at Soong Ching Ling Kindergarten, a “model school” with special rules. Although it’s part of China’s state-run public school system, it doesn’t have an open admission policy. Most of its small students are the children of Shanghai’s elite. Chu’s wealthy, influential uncle is flabbergasted. His granddaughter was denied entrance in spite of his connections that usually “made the impossible materialize.”

Born and raised in the U.S., Chu was taught Mandarin and received a strict Chinese upbringing from her Taiwanese parents. Her husband speaks fluent Mandarin which he learned as one of the first Peace Corps volunteers to show up in an isolated village in rural China. They want their child to become bilingual and they’re impressed with the accomplishments of China’s education system. Even so, they’re taken aback when Rainey tells them his teacher forces him to eat eggs, a food he detests, at lunch. When Chu tries to discuss this with the teacher, she’s told, “Eggs are good nutrition and all young children must eat them.” A week later, the teacher lets her know that Rainey now eats eggs and Chu doesn’t dash that triumph by telling that Rainey still refuses to eat them at home.

Meanwhile  Chu sees her son’s focus, attention span,and self-discipline soar. Academically he flourishes while at home his parents nurture his imagination and creativity. Chu begins to realize Rainey’s childhood is the mirror-image opposite of her own. She was given an American education and a Chinese upbringing while  Rainey has American freedom at home coupled with the rigorous life of a Chinese student. When the family returns to the U.S. during summer vacation, Rainey’s parents are relieved that their son fits in perfectly.

Chu begins to delve into China’s school system, visiting classrooms, making friends with teenage students, and researching the history of education through the centuries 

In 1949, she discovers, four out of every five Chinese were unable to read. Forty years later most children receive nine years of free compulsory education, with the goal of providing nation-wide preschool for all. However the historic dominance of tests that will determine success in later life still prevails, with the National College Entrance Exam looming over every student. Around 10 million teenagers take this annually. Only two-thirds of them will pass and go on to a university. The rest will become unskilled laborers or entrepreneurs.

The pressure of this exam permeates the lives of students, beginning when they’re only toddlers. One of Rainey’s three-year-old classmates is enrolled in three after-school classes where she learns English, Math, and Pinyin. One of Chu’s friends sends his six-year-old to eight after-school classes every week.

Chinese educators believe very young children are in a “golden period of memory expansion” which is essential for true learning. “You have to work hard to achieve,” a Chinese educator says, and effort is demanded of every student. Hard work is stressed over and above innate ability. “There is little difference in the intelligence of my students,” a teacher tells Chu, “Hard work is the most important thing.”

And yet Chu finds that Western methods are being incorporated within Chinese schools, while maintaining the core belief that learning depends on individual industriousness. “Maybe,” a Chinese educator concludes, “the hybrid of American and  Chinese systems is perfect.” If so, Rainey, whose parents plan to keep him in Chinese schools until sixth grade when the pressure of exams and political indoctrination becomes intense, is well on his way to becoming the perfect student.~Janet Brown

Confessions by Kanae Minato, translated by Stephen Snyder (Mulholland Books)

Yuko Moriguchi is a single-mother who teaches at a Middle School. She is thanking her students for participating in “Milk Time”, a program designed by the Ministry of Education to promote dairy products, even if it was without their consent. Moriguchi decides to tender her resignation and on the last day of class before summer vacation, she has one last lecture to give to her homeroom class.

The apple of her eye is her four-year-old daughter Manami. Unfortunately, her daughter died in an accident on the school grounds. She tells her students she was resigning, not just from the school, but from teaching. When one of her students asks if it was because of her daughter’s death, she says that’s part of the reason. She then shocks her students by announcing she’s retiring “because Manami’s death wasn’t an accident. She was murdered by some of the students in this class.”

So begins Confessions, Kanae Minato’s first novel, originally published in the Japanese language in 2008 with the title of Kokuhaku. It has received many awards including the Detective Novel Prize for New Writers, and the National Booksellers’ Award. The English version was published in 2014, translated by Stephen Snyder. The book was also adapted into a feature-length film in 2010 which became a major hit. 

Ms. Moriguchi also shares with her students why she became a teacher and how she ended up being a single mother. She tells them her engagement was called off by her fiance after she got pregnant because her soon-to-be husband discovered that he was HIV positive and didn’t want to burden her. He suggested terminating the pregnancy as he feared that the baby would be HIV positive as well. 

After making the shocking announcement that the killers were in the same room as their peers, she talks about Japan’s Juvenile Law. She asks her students if they were aware of why the law was implemented. She tells them, “it was written with the idea that young people are still immature and in the process of becoming adults, so when necessary, the state, in place of parents, needs to find the best way to rehabilitate those who commit crimes”. This means that a child under sixteen who commits a crime, even an atrocious crime as murder, is handed over to the Family Courts and usually doesn’t even end up in a juvenile detention center. 

Ms. Moriguchi tells the class that she’s surprised by their reaction or lack thereof, knowing full well that two of their peers are murderers. What they can’t understand is why their teacher didn’t go to the police. She tells them, “I’m not noble by keeping the identity of A and B a secret”. She hasn’t told the police because she doesn’t trust the law to punish them. For her parting words, she thanks the class once again for drinking all of their milk. She mentions that she added a little extra something to A and B’s milk that morning, a little bit of blood, blood from her ex-fiancee. And so begins Ms. Moriguchi’s revenge. 

After Ms. Moriguchi’s last lecture in her homeroom, the story shifts to a different character’s point of view. A powerful story of alienation, abandonment, bullying, mind-games, and murder., this is a psychological thriller that will keep you turning pages until the very end. It’s not a simple whodunit as you already know who the criminals are. It’s what happens after the teacher’s speech that makes this a novel that’s hard to put down. ~Ernie Hoyt

A Field Guide to Happiness : What I Learned in Bhutan about Living, Loving and Waking Up by Linda Leaming (Hay House)

Linda Leaming was a young American woman who left her comfortable life in Nashville, Tennessee and went to the small Himalayan country of Bhutan, the country known for its Gross National Happiness, to teach English. Not only did she fall in love with the country but she fell in love with one of its citizens and started a new life there. She wrote about it in her first book Married to Bhutan (Asia by the Book, November 2021).

Leaming has now written a follow up book titled A Field Guide to Happiness with the subtitle of What I Learned in Bhutan about Living, Loving and Waking Up. Leaming has lived in Bhutan since 1997. She married a renowned thangka artist, thangka being a religious painting usually depicting a Buddhist deity. She now shares what she learned and continues to learn in Bhutan about finding happiness. 

When Leaming talks about happiness in this book, she says she’s talking about well-being. She thinks of happiness as “being a state wherein we are ‘without want’”. Her four main points of what she thinks about happiness is, first, “Everyone wants to be happy.” Second, she believes “happiness begins with intent.” Her third point states “Happiness doesn’t just happen; it’s a result of conscious action (and sometimes that “action” is to do nothing).” Finally, she believes “this action involves doing simple things well”. 

One of the first things she says she had to learn was patience. This was before she got married and became more grounded in living in Bhutan. Her first visit to the Bank of Bhutan was emotionally challenging as she was the epitome of an American living in a foreign country. Americans are those people known for being busy, loud, obnoxious, demanding, and impatient. Perhaps it is an unkind stereotype but it may be an accurate description. She says, “In Bhutan, if I have three things to do in a week, it’s considered busy. In the U.S., I have at least three things to do between breakfast and lunch.”

Living in Bhutan has taught her more about herself than she would learn from any psychologist or self-help book. She has learned to be more patient, to “go with the flow”, to do without the modern conveniences of America, such as buying groceries at a supermarket or having a washing machine to do the laundry. She has learned to love and accept herself for who she is, she strives to be a kinder and generous person to others, and she can now talk about death without fear. 

To say this is a self-help book would be an overstatement. Leaming doesn’t push her beliefs on others, she just shares what works for her. She tells her stories in a way that’s delightful and amusing and never condescending. She shares her own weak points and tells the reader how she tries to overcome them or at least not worry about them as much as she used to. What works for Leaming may not work for everyone but I believe as Leaming does, that everyone just wants to be happy. ~Ernie Hoyt

Such a Lovely Little War: Saigon 1961-63 by Marcelino Truong, translated by David Homel (Arsenal Pulp)

It was a normal 1960’s childhood in a Washington DC suburb, one filled with hula hoops, Play-Doh, and winter sledding “like a Peanuts cartoon…something that Norman Rockwell might imagine.” Suddenly this all changed and the Truong children were on their way back to Vietnam. Their father, a diplomat serving in the Vietnamese Embassy, was needed by President Diem, a career swerve that took his family from the land of “cherry pie, a corner store, and Coca-Cola” to Saigon, a city filled with soldiers and Skyraider warplanes, with a naval destroyer moored in the river.

Now the children eat pho at street stalls with the family’s driver, Chu Ba, while their French mother struggles to make her housemaid realize that fish sauce isn’t an ingredient in boeuf bourguignon. Their father becomes part of what American journalists call the “Diemocracy,” serving as the English translator for President Diem and becoming the director of Agence Vietnam-Presse. His children go swimming at the pool in the exclusive Cercle Sportif de Saigon, learn to live without glass in the windows of their modern apartment, and enact spirited battles with their captured crickets and Siamese fighting fish.

Western journalists come to report on the “lovely little war, with just enough adrenaline,” flying to battlegrounds for the day and returning to the peace of Saigon in time for dinner. Then an unsuccessful coup attempt by two Vietnamese fighter pilots brings the war to the capital and grenades become a routine danger. Caught in a traffic jam, the children and their mother smell “something charred” and learn later that it came from a monk who set himself on fire to protest what is now being called “the dirty war.”

This is too much for Madame Truong. Her nerves shatter, she becomes prey to manic depression, and the war enters the Truong home. The children overhear their parents’ bitter fights. Their driver is forced to sell his blood to cope with the rising inflation caused by the advent of U.S. troops. Soon he‘s drafted to serve as a soldier, one who rides at the front of an armored train.

Interspersed with this child’s view of the war is a concise history, much of it based on his father’s memories and excerpts from his mother’s letters to relatives in France. This provides a brief but detailed summary of the Diem regime, the machinations of Madame Nhu, the role of Catholicism in Vietnam, and the symbolism of the legendary Trung sisters. “We should have done it on our own, with American weapons but without their soldiers, the way the Communists did,” the father concludes years later.

The “graphic novel” format of this mingled memoir and history gives it a vivid depth that makes it emotionally wrenching, while the frequent use of Vietnamese sprinkled throughout the book gives it the feeling of watching a film with subtitles. Like Maus and Persepolis before it, Such a Lovely Little War takes what once were “comic books” into a whole new realm of literature, blending art and text to create another world of creative possibility and a work of art that should become a classic.~Janet Brown

Triage by Scott Anderson (Pan Books)

Kurdistan. Wikipedia describes it as “a roughly defined geo-cultural territory in Western Asia wherein the Kurds form a prominent majority population and the Kurdish culture, languages, and national identity have historically been based.” It is an area that covers northern Iraq, southeastern Turkey, northwestern Iran, and northern Syria. The Kurds, like the Palestinians, hope one day to establish their own independent country. 

Scott Anderson, a veteran war correspondent who grew up in Asia, mainly in Taiwan and South Korea, has set his novel Triage in Kurdistan in 1988. This is during the Anfal campaign, also known as the Kurdish genocide, which was carried out by Ba’athist party of Iraq shortly after the end of the Iran-Iraq War. 

Mark Walsh is a photojournalist, on assignment in Kurdistan with fellow war photographer and friend Colin. The story opens with Mark lying on his back looking up into the sky. “He didn’t hear the artillery shell, but he believed he saw it”. He shouts for his friend Colin who doesn’t answer. Mark knows he will die if he doesn’t move. 

He does manage to move but slips and falls in a nearby river. The next time he awakens, he finds himself in a makeshift hospital in a cave. As he regains consciousness and looks around, he realizes where he is - the Harir cave, “a forty-bed ward and an operating theater carved out of solid rock, with no ventilation, no running water, no medicine.” 

Mark has been to this cave on many occasions and was thinking of creating a photo-essay titled The Worst Hospital in the World. And now here he is, not as a photojournalist, but as a patient., one who had previously met Dr. Talzini, a Peshmurga, who runs the place. 

Mark knows that the Peshmurga are the military force of the Kurdistan Regional Government. He was told by Dr. Talzani that the meaning of Peshmerga is “those who face death”. Mark also knows that Dr. Talzani holds a number of colored tags which makes Dr. Talzani a triage doctor, triage meaning “deciding the order of treatments or casualties”. 

Fortunately for Mark, he survives and makes the long journey home to his Spanish girlfriend, Elena. Elena is happy that Mark is back but she becomes worried as he seems to have come home a changed man. She talks to her mother, who then calls her grandfather who was a renowned psychiatrist in Franco’s Spain. 

Once Elena’s grandfather is in the picture, the story becomes a bit more complicated. Although Elena was close to her grandfather in her childhood, this changed when she learned that he was a supporter of Francisco Franco and his government. He ran a psychiatric institute and many of his patients were war criminals. He was called the “Fascist Father Confessor.” She said, “if you had wiped out a village, if you had tortured people to death, all you had to do was go see Dr. Joaquin Morales at the Morales Institute for Psychological Purification, and he absolved you of all guilt.” Of course Elena doesn’t want her grandfather to help Mark and cannot understand why Mark thinks it may be beneficial to him.

The book was also adapted into a movie in 2009 starring Colin Farrell. It is about the psychological effects that war has on people, on both participants and victims. It is also about forgiveness and letting go, in a very powerful story about the under-reported aspects of war. ~Ernie Hoyt

The Silent Dead by Tetsuya Honda, translated by Giles Murray (Minotaur Books)

Reiko Himekawa is tall, beautiful, and ambitious. Not yet thirty, she’s already made her way up through the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department to the rank of lieutenant and is leader of a homicide squad. She’s famous--and in some quarters infamous—for the preternatural knowledge she can garner from a murder victim which has propelled her rapid ascent through the ranks. Men in equivalent positions find her talent a direct challenge to their own methodical case work. To them, Reiko’s intuition seems like a kind of parlor trick--but her flashes of insight prove essential to solving cases. Many resent her but they grudgingly admit that this new addition to the homicide department is pulling her own weight.

When a body wrapped in a blue tarp is found carelessly discarded in a residential neighborhood, the police are puzzled. Why was the corpse dumped in a spot where it would quickly be discovered and why does it have a long cut in its abdomen that was inflicted after death? Reiko comes up with a plausible theory and begins the investigation, one leading to a horrendous online group that pays to watch a killer who is an artist of murder.

Reiko has a weakness; she makes certain that she’s off the street by nightfall, particularly in the summer. An older squad leader discovers the reason for this and uses it to taunt her, hoping to break her nerve and diminish her success. Instead he forces Reiko to face her memories and conquer her fear, as the two of them vie to discover the grisly game and its star performer.

This novel opens with a chapter that may deter squeamish readers but none of the later scenes match it for brutality and horror. Unlike novels by other Japanese crime writers (Natsuo Kirino immediately comes to mind), Tetsuya Honda is more focused on detection than he is on blood and guts. Even the culminating scene when the killer and her director almost come up with another corpse is less revolting than the sights and smells that dominate the book’s first pages.

A cast of characters is listed before the story begins but this is insufficient. It gives the names of only the fourteen police who figure prominently in the novel. A host of victims and the people who knew them offers sixteen additional names to keep straight—compiling a list for quick reference is highly recommended.

Reiko, with her “all-too-perfect looks” and her fear of “hot summer nights,” is the sort of detective that call for a series and this is only the first of several novels in which she appears. Her rival and tormentor, Lieutenant Katsumata, is equally compelling and his understanding of Reiko’s psychology provides a scene that upstages even the bloody solution to the crime spree. With luck, he’ll be a figure in the series because he’s a much more interesting figure than the two police officers who lust after Reiko, (each in different ways).

An unexpected strength in The Silent Dead is its close attention to details that are especially helpful to readers who don’t know Tokyo or the intricacies of its police hierarchy. Tokyo neighborhoods are crisply and vividly described, to the point that, for the first time ever, I’d like to explore this city. Full points go to Giles Murray, the book’s translator, a man who lives in Tokyo and who is able to escape the stilted dialogue that pervades many English versions of Japanese novels. From the first sentence of this thriller, “A putrid rain was falling, turning the whole world gray,” to its last scene when Kumata pinpoints the startling reason for Reiko’s success, Murray’s translation comes alive for western readers while always maintaining a strong sense of a distant and unfamiliar culture. 

Both Honda and Murray have introduced a detective to watch out for and Reiko Himekawa thoroughly deserves her own television series. Japan gave her one. Are you listening, HBO?~Janet Brown

All the Lovers in the Night by Mieko Kawakami, translated by Sam Bett and David Boyd (Picador)

All the Lovers in the Night was originally published in the Japanese language as Subete Mayonaka no Koibitotachi in 2011. It is the latest book by Mieko Kawakami to be published in English who first came to prominence on the international market with her book Breasts and Eggs (Asia by the Book, November 2021), published in 2020, followed by Heaven (Asia by the Book, July 2022), published in 2021. 

Her latest book focuses on a single woman living in Tokyo. Fuyuko Irie works as a freelance proofreader. Before that, she worked for a small publisher “that nobody ever heard of. Where they produced books that made you wonder who would ever read them”. It is the company where she started her career as a proofreader, “spending every moment of her day, from morning to night, hunting for mistakes.”

Irie is the type of person most people would classify as a social outcast. She has no friends, she rarely talks, and only speaks when she’s spoken to. The only thing that keeps her mind off her loneliness is walking by herself at night and looking at all the lights around her. “All of the lights of the night. The red light at the intersection, trembling as if wet, even though it isn’t raining. Streetlight after streetlight. Taillights trailing off into the distance. The soft glow from the windows. Phones in the hands of people just arriving home, and people just about to go somewhere.”

Her only friend seems to be her go-between between her and various publishers. Hijiri Ishikawa is almost the exact opposite of Irie. She’s young, beautiful, and full of energy. She wears the latest fashions and has a very active social life. She also has a reputation of being a loose woman and is described as difficult to work with. On the few occasions when Irie meets Hijiri for drinks, she usually lets Hijiri do most of the talking. 

One day, on her way home, Irie is talked into donating blood. Once she’s done and is filling out a survey, she catches a glimpse of her reflection in the window. What she sees there is “the dictionary definition of a miserable person.” It makes her think that she’s “just a miserable woman, who couldn’t even enjoy herself on a gorgeous day.” After that, Irie is determined to change her lifestyle.

She starts slowly by drinking a can of beer a day. With the help of alcohol, she’s able to come out of her usual shell. She even goes to a cultural center to see if there might be a class she would be interested in taking. Before she makes a decision, she feels a bit nauseous and heads to the ladies room. She doesn’t quite make it and vomits before she can get to a sink. At about the same time, a man exits the men’s room and Irie believes she threw up on his shoes. 

From this embarrassing incident, she meets Mitsutsuka. At first, they are both awkward with each other but over time, they develop a friendship. Irie feels something a bit more and she’s not sure how to go about expressing herself to Mitsusuka. 

As any single person living in a large city may know, at times it can be difficult to meet that person of your dreams—or even someone you just want to spend more time with. Kawakami writes with the average, everyday person in mind. Sometimes you may need a little push from your friends or acquaintances or some experience to take that first step in finding happiness. Even I spent my first year in Tokyo alone and experienced my first Christmas in my cold and sparse apartment watching a Christmas video while eating a seven-eleven burrito. I felt the same as Irie and thought I really need to get out more and interact with people. It was that sad Christmas that made me search for happiness and I’m happy to say that I was able to tear down my own walls. ~Ernie Hoyt