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xvicesx 's review for:
The Memory Police
by Yōko Ogawa
challenging
dark
mysterious
reflective
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I generally hate it when authors set out to write a "thing" rather than a story that happens to convey a meaning and I'm not entirely sure if this does or doesn't entirely fit within my definition of a "thing."
You know that old adage about how, the bigger the topic you want to write about, the smaller the writing? You don't talk about bombs with napalm falling from the sky, or endless fire, you talk about the young child's sock half burnt on the charred road. This is what The Memory Police feels like. It chooses a world where something monumental is happening and it merely takes you through the motions of a young novelist's life.
You don't build a relationship to the three main characters, they always stay somehow distant from you. The narrator is never named, nor is the old man, and R, the narrator's editor, doesn't get more than a letter to define him. But in a way, it's that distance that makes this quietly disturbing. Like comedy, you find the characters in a circle of hell from which they have no escape, nor do most of them have an understanding of being in a circle of hell. Only you, the casual observer can realise the enormity of their disturbing lives. And like comedy, the ending doesn't grant a cathartic release.
But this isn't a comedy, far from it. The Memory Police are brutal only in their strictness and their efficiency. They don't beat people up, they don't shout at them outside of their investigations. They merely work effectively to ensure that the rules are followed and that disappeared objects are removed from the island. We don't get any political discourse, no discussion about whomever might be in charge. There's only the disappearances without any announcements or explanations and their strict enactment. And isn't that terrifying?
To me at least, the removed observation of the plot slowly progressing towards its inevitable conclusion is worthy of the horror genre, even though there's never any gore nor fear from the characters. R is committed to keeping our narrator alive and helping her remember, even when she's slowly letting go, accepting that she can only be what she is allowed to be.
There's maybe social commentary here about resistance, about considering it and making an effort even in the face of insurmountable difficulty.
Because of the way that the author approached the storytelling, the pacing is necessarily slow and I can see people getting impatient with it especially without a strong connection to the characters. But I felt that the plot makes up for it in capturing the imagination and making you wonder just where it will all land. I couldn't see it, even though I worried about it since about 50% in. And that, too, is quite pleasant.
All in all? Probably not a book for all, but if you enjoyed 1984, and if you have had other experiences with the more slow paced Asian setting books, then I think you might find this at least intriguing if not full on engrossing.
I have the same quiet horror completing it that I had after finishing Neal Shursterman's Unwind, which left me fairly scarred from a philosophical perspective.
You know that old adage about how, the bigger the topic you want to write about, the smaller the writing? You don't talk about bombs with napalm falling from the sky, or endless fire, you talk about the young child's sock half burnt on the charred road. This is what The Memory Police feels like. It chooses a world where something monumental is happening and it merely takes you through the motions of a young novelist's life.
You don't build a relationship to the three main characters, they always stay somehow distant from you. The narrator is never named, nor is the old man, and R, the narrator's editor, doesn't get more than a letter to define him. But in a way, it's that distance that makes this quietly disturbing. Like comedy, you find the characters in a circle of hell from which they have no escape, nor do most of them have an understanding of being in a circle of hell. Only you, the casual observer can realise the enormity of their disturbing lives. And like comedy, the ending doesn't grant a cathartic release.
But this isn't a comedy, far from it. The Memory Police are brutal only in their strictness and their efficiency. They don't beat people up, they don't shout at them outside of their investigations. They merely work effectively to ensure that the rules are followed and that disappeared objects are removed from the island. We don't get any political discourse, no discussion about whomever might be in charge. There's only the disappearances without any announcements or explanations and their strict enactment. And isn't that terrifying?
To me at least, the removed observation of the plot slowly progressing towards its inevitable conclusion is worthy of the horror genre, even though there's never any gore nor fear from the characters. R is committed to keeping our narrator alive and helping her remember, even when she's slowly letting go, accepting that she can only be what she is allowed to be.
There's maybe social commentary here about resistance, about considering it and making an effort even in the face of insurmountable difficulty.
Because of the way that the author approached the storytelling, the pacing is necessarily slow and I can see people getting impatient with it especially without a strong connection to the characters. But I felt that the plot makes up for it in capturing the imagination and making you wonder just where it will all land. I couldn't see it, even though I worried about it since about 50% in. And that, too, is quite pleasant.
All in all? Probably not a book for all, but if you enjoyed 1984, and if you have had other experiences with the more slow paced Asian setting books, then I think you might find this at least intriguing if not full on engrossing.
I have the same quiet horror completing it that I had after finishing Neal Shursterman's Unwind, which left me fairly scarred from a philosophical perspective.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Confinement, Infidelity
Minor: Death, Rape, Toxic relationship, Death of parent