Moon Shadow Moon Shadow

Translated by Megan Backus
Read by Yolande Bavan

I’ve given Banana Yoshimoto’s pen name because it was the name she gave herself in the 1980s when the book was published. Her birth name is Mahoko Yoshimoto, and the title “Kitchen” was the “borrowed-name” of the book; it was the original title and not translated from Japanese.

The book is divided into two parts, the novel “Kitchen” and the novella “Moonlight Shadow”.

I decided to read Kitchen after discovering it was an instant best seller when it was published in Japan, and I was intrigued by the title and the author’s name. I was expecting from these, a quirky novel, along the lines of some other Japanese books I’ve read.

It’s not quirky at all. Both the novel and the novella embrace the themes of coping with the sudden death of a loved one. Both are optimistic, with the survivors moving forward after periods of mourning.

The prose in both stories come across as choppy in parts. I first thought this was due to the translations, but later read it was the original Japanese. What was interesting about the book was the subtle and tender way it dealt with the emotions of mourning. At times the novella Moon Shadow was extremely touching. This may have been because of my own experience of young love. In any case I liked the novella more than I liked the novel.

There were times of unintended humor. Being a lover of Japanese food it was surprising to read of young people praising meal of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Here and there there are signs of Western influence in the writing, and this plus the choppiness of the prose takes from the gentle feel Mahoko Yoshimoto engenders so well in the two stories.

If you like Japanese literature, Kitchen delivers a pleasant read. For me Kitchen is a good but not a memorable book and I rated it a nuanced 3.

I have read Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto as a part of the #52booksin52weeks challenge. The book has been written very beautifully, capturing the emotions of the characters. A simple yet brilliant narration. The stories give you a vibe of sadness and hope. My favorite is the second story, which gives a strong message about life. Reading the book was a heartfelt encounter. But I felt that the stories needed completion. They ended abruptly, leaving the reader wanting more.

After reading the book, I think that people should think more positively about life. Depression and loneliness change a human being, and they forget to live their lives. It was a short read, and I finished it within a day. Definitely, the book deserves 4 stars. ( )

Oh, what a delight! There is magic in every sentence. I really love the way Japanese authors (and artists of every kind) find beauty in everyday things. There is so much heartbreak in the pages of Kitchen, yet this is the kind of book that warms your heart. ( )

I ended this book and just said "What?" out loud. The book suddenly switches with no warning into the format of a romance story except with all of the bits which might explain their connection and why they care about each other cut out.

Somehow despite the book being first person I never really developed much of an idea about the main character, except that she's in grief, sort of. The romance interest I have absolutely no clue. He likes her cooking? Even she admits she doesn't really understand him at all.

The most developed character is Eriko, a trans woman who runs a gay club. She insists on taking the main character (Mikage) in at the start of the novel when Mikage's grandmother dies for some vague reason. She mostly gets she pronouns but thankfully the author semi-regularly inserts reminders she's a man so you don't get confused. It's weird cause otherwise it feels like a decent portrayal for 1988 but it's like the author couldn't just leave it be. It's frustrating. ( )

Two short but powerful novellas whose lines are worth savoring slowly. Both are about coming to terms with grief through the power of kindness and love. Miyage and Yuichi are dealing with their respective losses. It is only when they channeled their grief into care and love for each other that the world became a bearable place to live in. ( )