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nbynw's review against another edition
3.0
It's my guess that reading previous books by the author first would be helpful.
victoriathuyvi's review against another edition
4.0
Such a trippy book. I don't even fully comprehend what I read but it was effective at drawing out reactions.
bootlegdarklord's review against another edition
dark
emotional
reflective
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
This is mostly a character exploration until the very end, which takes an incredibly wild change of pace that was jarring to me. But beyond that this is definitely one of the most unique books I’ve read and I’d recommend it to anyone who wants to read something they’ll really have to sink their teeth into.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Incest, Ableism, Rape, and Child abuse
fishface's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
This book is a cornerstone of my taste for some unknown reason.
cronosmu's review against another edition
4.0
Terriblemente autorreferencial y solo apta para los otakus de Kenzaburo Oe. Yo soy uno de ellos, claro.
jackie_shimkus's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.25
Rape
dinosaursatwork's review against another edition
I bought this book when I was in my undergrad and thought of becoming more "cultured". I managed to read one or two chapters and then gave up. A while ago, I attempted to pick it up again and this time I managed to get through although I'm still deeply irritated.
When I bought this book, I thought it was about an author writing about how he writes a novel about his father's drowning. I still thought so until recently. Now, I am entirely unsure what Oe wanted me to take away from this book, message and story-telling-wise. A large portion of this book focuses on women finding their strength and voices, but it does not end with that - in that sense, this book reminds me a lot of Blaue Frau. I guess literary critics enjoy reading "feminist" books about women being overpowered by men? I, for one, am tired of the way I have seen it done.
In brief: The surface-level story is not really clear. The author aims to write a book about his father's death, but it doesn't work out, the women he knows work on theater productions, and at the end, there is a kidnapping and murder. Sounds incoherent? Also reads incoherent.
Maybe grasping the deeper meaning of Oe's text would have been easier if I had liked any of the characters. However, I found nobody likable, except perhaps the author's wife who is absent for most of the story. Most characters keep monologing about the same things, they come and state that they want to ask Mr. Choko, our author, questions and then talk about this work for two pages to ask a question that he answers with one sentence. Then they continue monologing. This also applies to conversations that are reported in great detail. One begins to wonder how all the characters can report these monologues so perfectly, but there is an answer: People keep recording their conversations to transcribe them. This monologing is done to such an extreme that even at the end when two people are held captive because they created a stage performance of Meisuke's mother, are told the story of Meisuke's mother (not a different interpretation! Exactly the same story we have heard six times at that point!). In other words, a kidnapper tells the story of Meisuke's mother in great detail to two people who are the experts on this story. The expert in me, who knows how often I am lectured about my field of expertise, can relate. The reader in me cannot enjoy it, however.
Mr. Choko himself, supposedly Oe's fictional alter ego, seems pretty useless. All communication with the outside world has to happen through his female family members. They do the talking on the phone, they transcribe his letters into emails, they fax his communications, they take care of the household, etc. He seems to be so useless that his wife sends him off to his childhood home while she goes through cancer surgery and chemotherapy. There seems to be some awareness about this, but no consequences - this is simply as things are.
Unaiko is a theater "genius" who invented a new technique called "dog tossing". Hereby, dogs are being tossed around by actors and the audience. It was fun when I first heard about it, but it soon becomes ridiculous when people insist on calling it a dramatic technique and a branch of theater. Sometimes throwing a plush dog is just that. Sometimes hearing at great length what a great actress and director someone is (with pages after pages of letters describing the acting which often is just, you guessed it, a lecturing monologue) doesn't make them seem likable - it's just annoying.
Despite my grievances with the book, I still also found pleasure in a strange way. Sometimes, the repetition almost seemed meditative, the way forward relaxed, we don't need to hurry to a conclusion right away. Maybe, in 10 years, I, too, will call this a masterpiece.
When I bought this book, I thought it was about an author writing about how he writes a novel about his father's drowning. I still thought so until recently. Now, I am entirely unsure what Oe wanted me to take away from this book, message and story-telling-wise. A large portion of this book focuses on women finding their strength and voices, but it does not end with that - in that sense, this book reminds me a lot of Blaue Frau. I guess literary critics enjoy reading "feminist" books about women being overpowered by men? I, for one, am tired of the way I have seen it done.
In brief: The surface-level story is not really clear. The author aims to write a book about his father's death, but it doesn't work out, the women he knows work on theater productions, and at the end, there is a kidnapping and murder. Sounds incoherent? Also reads incoherent.
Maybe grasping the deeper meaning of Oe's text would have been easier if I had liked any of the characters. However, I found nobody likable, except perhaps the author's wife who is absent for most of the story. Most characters keep monologing about the same things, they come and state that they want to ask Mr. Choko, our author, questions and then talk about this work for two pages to ask a question that he answers with one sentence. Then they continue monologing. This also applies to conversations that are reported in great detail. One begins to wonder how all the characters can report these monologues so perfectly, but there is an answer: People keep recording their conversations to transcribe them. This monologing is done to such an extreme that even at the end when two people are held captive because they created a stage performance of Meisuke's mother, are told the story of Meisuke's mother (not a different interpretation! Exactly the same story we have heard six times at that point!). In other words, a kidnapper tells the story of Meisuke's mother in great detail to two people who are the experts on this story. The expert in me, who knows how often I am lectured about my field of expertise, can relate. The reader in me cannot enjoy it, however.
Mr. Choko himself, supposedly Oe's fictional alter ego, seems pretty useless. All communication with the outside world has to happen through his female family members. They do the talking on the phone, they transcribe his letters into emails, they fax his communications, they take care of the household, etc. He seems to be so useless that his wife sends him off to his childhood home while she goes through cancer surgery and chemotherapy. There seems to be some awareness about this, but no consequences - this is simply as things are.
Unaiko is a theater "genius" who invented a new technique called "dog tossing". Hereby, dogs are being tossed around by actors and the audience. It was fun when I first heard about it, but it soon becomes ridiculous when people insist on calling it a dramatic technique and a branch of theater. Sometimes throwing a plush dog is just that. Sometimes hearing at great length what a great actress and director someone is (with pages after pages of letters describing the acting which often is just, you guessed it, a lecturing monologue) doesn't make them seem likable - it's just annoying.
Despite my grievances with the book, I still also found pleasure in a strange way. Sometimes, the repetition almost seemed meditative, the way forward relaxed, we don't need to hurry to a conclusion right away. Maybe, in 10 years, I, too, will call this a masterpiece.
muljadi's review against another edition
2.0
Kenzaburō Ōe is a great author, but unfortunately, this was the first book I read from him. my review is based on a very clueless, probably not a bibliophile type of person.
his references to past books and themes were fascinating. the conversations his literary alter ego would have on the remarks of student activism, being in the twilight of one's life, and caring for a son who would may pass away before you were thought provoking for me. and the ending, wow! i felt like the last twenty pages made up the action.
yet, the book is mired with lots of rambling, and i could not stand the repetitive prose. this was a book that i had to force myself to finish.
i will read Ōe's earlier works, and hopefully, this book might be better for me then!
his references to past books and themes were fascinating. the conversations his literary alter ego would have on the remarks of student activism, being in the twilight of one's life, and caring for a son who would may pass away before you were thought provoking for me. and the ending, wow! i felt like the last twenty pages made up the action.
yet, the book is mired with lots of rambling, and i could not stand the repetitive prose. this was a book that i had to force myself to finish.
i will read Ōe's earlier works, and hopefully, this book might be better for me then!
dandelionwine's review against another edition
3.0
This book was frustrating to me in a lot of ways. It was exhausting to read and even more exhausting to try and decipher.
There were some moments of beautiful clarity and Oe's simplistic writing can be refreshing. But there's that old mantra in writing: show, don't tell. And Oe completely disregards that. He explains everything in painstaking detail. Characters don't have conversations so much as simply trade long monologues. There are sections of texts (from the main character's novel, from songs, from poems relevant to the characters, etc.) that are then explained and parsed down so exhaustively that it felt like I was back in college taking a literary theory course.
The story takes a long, winding path to plot development, and it kind of feels like there isn't a lot of resolution. Which sometimes I'm okay with, but sometimes I'm also annoyed with. In this case, it was a bit of both. This book kind of feels like wading uphill through a river. You're doing a whole lot of work without really getting anywhere.
There were some moments of beautiful clarity and Oe's simplistic writing can be refreshing. But there's that old mantra in writing: show, don't tell. And Oe completely disregards that. He explains everything in painstaking detail. Characters don't have conversations so much as simply trade long monologues. There are sections of texts (from the main character's novel, from songs, from poems relevant to the characters, etc.) that are then explained and parsed down so exhaustively that it felt like I was back in college taking a literary theory course.
The story takes a long, winding path to plot development, and it kind of feels like there isn't a lot of resolution. Which sometimes I'm okay with, but sometimes I'm also annoyed with. In this case, it was a bit of both. This book kind of feels like wading uphill through a river. You're doing a whole lot of work without really getting anywhere.