I didn’t know what I expected - actually I do know - something in the strain of Ogawa’s previous book that I’d read, The Housekeeper and The Professor- dealing with time and memory (I think they’re her favourite themes), but with the lighter touch she used in it. 

This one is haunting, relentless, brutal, depressing, tragic, surreal, metaphorical, mesmerising, atmospheric and savagely scary. It’s like a tsunami of emotion and concepts and thoughts has immersed me in a narrative that is at once lucid and baffling. It’s hard for me to separate real from unreal, if indeed unreal is the correct term or are disappearing body parts merely metaphorical? The fact that the main protagonist is anonymous is unsettling. Nobody has names, perhaps they too gave disappeared, except for R, who to be fair has just a letter, and remains mysterious and yet perhaps the most ‘normal’ after the old man, who was my favourite character probably because he was most easily understandable and identifiable.

Vibes of Anne Franke and the Holocaust are evident throughout the dystopian context. There are powerful undercurrents of oppression - physical and mental, grief, fear, uncertainty, helplessness, acceptance and a complete lack of self-esteem and identity. When human beings are stripped of their rights and eventually their identities by consistently and relentlessly attacking their memories, how do they cope? Why do some humans find the will to fight and survive, while others accept defeat and disappear? When does oppression finally turn submission into rebellion? Is the sacrifice of some justifiable for the survival of others? 

This was an extremely challenging book to read, especially since I try and avoid dystopian novels. It depressed and enraged me. I wanted to shake the protagonist and in turn, the protagonist from her novel, until they awoke from the apathy that had overwhelmed them. That was the old man’s job, when he was around - to keep her together, reassure her, uplift her mood and protect her from not only the Memory Police but also herself. He was good at his job. 

It’s amazing how if disappearances are indeed a metaphor for death, Ogawa has managed to write an entire novel on the subject without once using the word itself! The novel that the protagonist writes in the book is like a microcosm of the world she herself is living in, until Ogawa manages a surreally terrifying crossover that I’m not still sure I’ve understood or that I was even meant to. It’s a complexly poignant narrative that is both in-your face and subtly nuanced - a rouble edged sword that cuts both ways.  This review could easily turn into a thesis on the subjects of memory, life and death - I have so many thoughts swirling around in my head right now. A book that has given me a huge hangover 😵

Every reader will take away their own unique lessons and feelings as indeed happens with every book, bug doubly so with this one in my opinion. It’s just that kind of book. I was unaware before I started reading that it was short listed for the International Booker Prize 2020. I haven’t had the best of reading experiences with the Bookers. This book has  affected me deeply. I love Japanese literature and although this was a difficult and disturbing read, it was worth it.