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A review by ulanur
Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto
5.0
Have you ever felt grief so intense that it could rip your soul into pieces? So devastating it threatens to unmoor you from day to day life, disconnect you from other people? This is a little book with two short stories, about loss and resilience. Kitchens, and food, are central to healing in this book, as symbols of warmth and connection to life.
In the first story a young woman has lost her grandmother, and in the second a boyfriend. As they deal with the thought of living after someone you love so dearly has left, a gentle story of small kindnesses unfolds. With sparse instances of magical realism, that anyone who has gone through a mourning period like this can tell you absolutely do happen, this is also a story of finding a reason to live again.
The first story, which is two thirds of the book, was my favourite. Mikage Sakurai is taken in by a friend and his transgender mother. I will say in a few sentences the language around Eriko's gender was a little outdated, but in a way that shows the limitations of language in a conservative society in the 80s, not in any derogatory way (reading through some own-voices reviews I also couldn't find anyone take issue with it). Eriko becomes a surrogate mother to Mikage and it made me so emotional. As well as grief, it's also a story of a mother's love and how transformative that can be.
Sometimes all you need is a stranger to walk up to you and ask if you're alright. This book is a rumination on loss, grief, mourning; and the beauty of life. It's a story I needed to read, so it has a special place in my heart now.
In the first story a young woman has lost her grandmother, and in the second a boyfriend. As they deal with the thought of living after someone you love so dearly has left, a gentle story of small kindnesses unfolds. With sparse instances of magical realism, that anyone who has gone through a mourning period like this can tell you absolutely do happen, this is also a story of finding a reason to live again.
The first story, which is two thirds of the book, was my favourite. Mikage Sakurai is taken in by a friend and his transgender mother. I will say in a few sentences the language around Eriko's gender was a little outdated, but in a way that shows the limitations of language in a conservative society in the 80s, not in any derogatory way (reading through some own-voices reviews I also couldn't find anyone take issue with it). Eriko becomes a surrogate mother to Mikage and it made me so emotional. As well as grief, it's also a story of a mother's love and how transformative that can be.
Sometimes all you need is a stranger to walk up to you and ask if you're alright. This book is a rumination on loss, grief, mourning; and the beauty of life. It's a story I needed to read, so it has a special place in my heart now.