“To speak is to stumble, to hesitate, to detour and hit dead ends. To listen is straightforward. You can always just listen.”
― Yū Miri, Tokyo Ueno Station
CBR15Bingo: Asia & Oceania
CBR15Passport: The story takes place in Japan.
Based on the gold medals on the book cover, the charming cover art, and the synopsis of the book, I was expecting a quirky, sometimes weepy, ghost story set in one of my favorite places in the world.
To put it simply, this book is bleak. We follow Kazu, born in 1933, and learn about his life as he grows up in post-war Japan, marries, and begins working all over the country in various manual labor jobs to support his wife and young children. He always lives far away from home, sending money back to his parents and wife, which he earns during the boom period between the 1960’s and 1980’s.
From the beginning, we are told that Kazu is one of the many homeless people living in and around Ueno Park, in the heart of Tokyo. By now, he is an old man, and his life is told via a series of flashbacks.
Kazu’s story is fascinating, showing what it is like to live as part of the homeless community of elderly people in one of the world’s wealthiest and most populous cities. Kazu and his friends ended up here for different reasons. Some of them chose this life so as to no longer be a burden on their families. We follow Kazu as he is forced to pack up his hut and relocate again and again as the capital city prepares its bid for the 2020 summer olympics.
Although it looks like a fast read, I had to put it down and take frequent breaks. When the first big thing happens less than halfway through the book, I knew I was going to have to white knuckle through to the end.
This is an excellent story. And it’s not a bad book. The writing is gorgeous. But it is not an easy read. Content warnings for deaths (multiple) and suicide.
I’ll leave you with this stunning passage.
I went outside. The rain had stopped.
The air, washed by the rain, was serene, and the waves sounded closer than usual.
The full moon shone like a pearl in the night sky.
The moonlight made it look as if all the houses had sunk to the bottom of a lake.
The road stretched ahead, white.
It was the road that led to Migitahama.
A gust of wind and the petals from a wild cherry tree went dancing, white against the darkness, and I remembered then that the cherry trees here blossomed two or three weeks later than in Tokyo.
The waves roared.
I stood alone in the darkness.
Light does not illuminate.
It only looks for things to illuminate.
And I had never been found by the light.
I would always be in darkness—― Yū Miri, Tokyo Ueno Station
