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A review by stuartjrodriguez
Before Your Memory Fades by Toshikazu Kawaguchi, 川口 俊和
2.0
2.5, rounded down.
Whenever I read a translated work, I think about the interplay between writer and translator. How much of what I’m reading are the author’s intended words? How much of what I’m reading is the translator parsing and interpreting the author’s words? I wonder about this particularly when I’m reading a work translated from a non-Romanized language into English, where the patterns of speech and the grammar and syntax are all significantly different—and it’s something I especially wonder about if I didn’t like whatever I just read.
This is obviously an impossible question unless one is fluent in both languages, so I’ll never really have a good answer for this. Which means the only tangible way I’ve got to understand a story translated from Japanese into English is to assume that the translator is in lock-step with the writer, and the story is translated as closely as possible to the writer’s intention.
Which means, unfortunately, that Toshikazu Kawaguchi just isn’t that good of a writer.
I love the concept of these novels. I’ve listened to all four of them. They’re all identical in terms of setup, characterization, and intention. The characters aren’t bad, and their storylines can be poignant, but man, Kawaguchi’s writing is often cheesy, over-the-top, and melodramatic. He repeats himself constantly instead of trusting his reader to remember the rules of the café, or remember past characters and their interactions. His explanations and characterizations often elicit eye-rolls. His command of language is functional, but inelegant.
These books are fine. I just wish they were better. If you love one, you’ll love them all, but I can only recommend these with these couple of big caveats.
Whenever I read a translated work, I think about the interplay between writer and translator. How much of what I’m reading are the author’s intended words? How much of what I’m reading is the translator parsing and interpreting the author’s words? I wonder about this particularly when I’m reading a work translated from a non-Romanized language into English, where the patterns of speech and the grammar and syntax are all significantly different—and it’s something I especially wonder about if I didn’t like whatever I just read.
This is obviously an impossible question unless one is fluent in both languages, so I’ll never really have a good answer for this. Which means the only tangible way I’ve got to understand a story translated from Japanese into English is to assume that the translator is in lock-step with the writer, and the story is translated as closely as possible to the writer’s intention.
Which means, unfortunately, that Toshikazu Kawaguchi just isn’t that good of a writer.
I love the concept of these novels. I’ve listened to all four of them. They’re all identical in terms of setup, characterization, and intention. The characters aren’t bad, and their storylines can be poignant, but man, Kawaguchi’s writing is often cheesy, over-the-top, and melodramatic. He repeats himself constantly instead of trusting his reader to remember the rules of the café, or remember past characters and their interactions. His explanations and characterizations often elicit eye-rolls. His command of language is functional, but inelegant.
These books are fine. I just wish they were better. If you love one, you’ll love them all, but I can only recommend these with these couple of big caveats.