Loved this book. Ordinary women's ordinary lives in ordinary Japan. Female interiority given full voice. Wonderful.

Thoroughly enjoyed the first part of this book, but unfortunately part two failed to keep my interest. Although I would say it was an enjoyable and interesting read, I believe the first part was originally a separate novella which is possibly how it should have stayed, as a whole it felt too disjointed.

I was really excited to read this book but found it quite disappointing. I barely got half way through. The basic elements of the storyline had lots of potential and I was excited to read more about life in Japan but it was really disjointed and I did not finish.

Breasts and Eggs starts off as a fascinating portrayal of working class women in contemporary Japan. Natsuko, a 30-year old would be writer and blogger living in Tokyo is expecting her older sister and teenage niece’s visit. Makiko, the sister is considering breast augmentation surgery to the horror of her daughter Midoriko. Midoriko herself is a selective mute struggling with her own changing body. The short visit brings forth their anxieties and insecurities, their relationships with their bodies and with each other. Previously published as a novella, the visit now forms the first part of the expanded work.

Fast forward a decade and Natsuko is now a published author working on her second book. As she struggles with her novel, she contemplates her own life and thinks about her future. In order to give meaning to her life, she considers having a child and explores sperm donation as she doesn’t enjoy sex. This second, more episodic and meandering part of the novel is longer and weaker in my opinion. While it addresses important issues women face in contemporary Japanese society, it lacks the impact of the first part. Overall a good, if somewhat uneven novel.

My thanks to Pan Macmillan, Picador and Netgalley for the opportunity to read and review Breasts and Eggs.

Breasts and Eggs is a novel of two parts. In the first part, Natsu is in her twenties, holding down a low paying job in Tokyo while struggling to become a writer. Her sister, Makiko, and her selective-mute niece, Midoriko, visit from Osaka so that Makiko can attend an appointment with a breast-enhancement clinic. In the second part, Natsu is in her thirties, doing a little better financially but not in a relationship, yearning to become a mother herself and considering using a sperm bank. Both parts are beautifully written: the first part is pacier whereas the second part is looser and gives more space for character development.

I loved the voice of Natsu, she felt very real and her thoughts and reactions built a strong picture of her character. Now I’ve finished the book, I miss her.

This is the second book I’ve read by Mieko Kawakami and I will look out for more.

Thanks to the author, publisher and NetGalley for providing a review copy in exchange for honest feedback.

This novel explores womanhood in general and in Japan in particular very well: body image, relationships, motherhood etc. It also describes modern Japan excellently, I think (though to be honest I can't really have an expert opinion on this as I've never even been to Japan).
I loved the writing style of this novel a lot. It got me into a flow and kept me reading even though not much was really happening. I was pleasantly surprised :-)
Thank you Pan Macmillan and Netgalley for the Arc

Part 1 of this book was originally published in 2008, it's a story centred around three women, Natsuko an aspiring writer, Makiko her sister who's boob job obsessed and having trouble with her daughter Midoriko. She hasn't spoken a word to her Mum in months despite being with her most of the time.

Part 2 is a new addition to the original publication set 10 years later and is focused on Natsuko. She is now a published author and the story follows her considering having a child via anonymous sperm donation.

Part family commentary, part social commentary, it's a look at gender norms and an exploration of a woman's body.

I'm afraid to say I didn't love this one as much as I hoped I would, part 1 was much more enjoyable than part 2. I'm not sure the story needed to be expanded, it would have been perfect as a novella.

Thank you to @picadorbooks and @netgalley for this eArc in exchange for an honest review.

A really compelling read focussing largely on a part of Japanese society normally tucked neatly out of sight: the poor. Somehow covering everything from asexuality to hostess bars to breast implants to artificial insemination, Breasts and Eggs shone a welcome light on a rarely-seen view of modern Japanese life. High points were the strong, instantly relatable and coolly emotional narration, the wide-ranging and skilfully linked scenes from a life, and the frankly unusual subjects on offer. Low points were few - perhaps some slightly sluggish pacing after the energetic start to the novel, and a handful of characters that could have used a little more dimension. Overall though, an enjoyable and enlightening read.

I was so delighted to be sent this @picador proof of Breasts and Eggs by Mieko Kawakami (translated by Sam Bett and David Boyd.) I had seen rave reviews on Twitter and knew that it would be something special. When I did a bit of digging, I learned that the first half of the book had been published as a standalone novella, which makes a lot of sense as it seems to have quite a sense of finality about it. In the first section, Natsuko, the narrator, is visited by her sister and niece. Her sister, Makiko, has become obsessed with breast enhancement surgery and her niece has become selectively mute since her body began to go through puberty. There is a lot in this book about male gaze-femininity and bodies, but I actually found the most interesting thing about this first section to be about class. Kawakami explores the working class of Tokyo through Makiko in particular, who has worked as a hostess for years. There are some really great parts about a woman who runs a “fake” Chanel shop that just a shop with the double C logo on everything. I think this section was among my favourites in the novel, as I actually recently listened to a podcast about logos and how they represent various sections of society (Articles of Interest, episode 8, if you are interested!). The second section (Eggs!) is set ten years later and follows Natsuko’s desire to become a mother, so there is a lot on artificial insemination and other medical issues. In all, an excellent book. I think it’s the longest translated book I have ever read, and it was brilliant. #breastsandeggs #miekokawakami #picadorbooks

Self absorption of the self a continual cycle of recycling the self once a month for decades waiting for something new only ever the same result the same pain the same narcissism, there is a slow hot ticking to this novel - plus one point for normcore mention! An attempt at tackling the philosophy behind donor children and it tries to take an existential view of as the book puts it a donor crisis our main character is stuck writing a book throughout the second part and the book also feels stuck as you read it, the text becomes that sticking point that usually is taken out with an edit, the excess you’ll write just to hit a word count, the babble created in order to get your character from a to b that only service the wills and whims of the writer and not the reader as they should, something very French about the banality of the second half, the first person narrative is not engaging enough because it feels very thin very disconnected but to the point of being loose and unintentionally messy, I feel like the second part works towards the final page but by then it is a bit too late, I wish the first part was a separate book over here, I would read that again.

The first half of this book had me hooked. I enjoyed the books social commentary and it had some brilliant feminist voices. However feel it’s should of been kept as a novella and not extended.

In her much-celebrated novel, Breasts and Eggs, the principal character, Natsuko, asks some rudimentary questions.

“Does blood coming out of your body make you a woman? A potential mother? What makes that so great anyway?”

“What’s the secret to long life?”

“What’s it mean to hurt, anyway?”

Natsuko is single and in her late 30’s with no inclination to follow the rest of her peers in settling down. In the first part of the book, she watches her sister Makiko go through the struggles of being a single parent as she raises her daughter Midoriko. Natsuko questions everything at this point – relationships, parenthood, dating, menstruation, and the very notion of femininity or womanhood.

However, as time passes she becomes obsessed with the idea of having a child with the help of a sperm donor. The second half of the book is mostly dedicated to her vacillations and how she tries to arrive at a decision.

Natsu discusses her thoughts with two of her friends, Sengawa and Rika, who give her very different views.

“Rika urged me on, making her case from every possible angle… Having a child in your life was such a beautiful thing.”

Sengawa, on the other hand, is not convinced.

“You could never handle motherhood,” Sengawa laughed. “Take a look at yourself. Think about money. Think about work…”

I see Sengawa and Rika as the two halves of Natsu’s brain, and the way both the friendships progress is almost like an illustration of her eventual decision.

I enjoyed the first half of the book much more because it held many stories within it. The life of a single woman and a single parent, economic hardships, a teenager’s attempts to come to terms with her changing body, and the relationship between sisters.

But the sweet pace of the book suddenly grinds to a halt in the second half with Natsu’s meanderings about sperm donors. Almost the entire second half is dedicated to exploring the implications of being the child of a sperm donor or being a sperm donor. There was considerable male-bashing too, which seemed too simplistic, and binary at times.

It was mildly interesting at first, but the thoughts become so repetitive (as thoughts are, most of the time) that it almost tired me out. And it all comes to a very neatly packaged ending, which I saw a mile away but expected to be proven wrong.

However, throughout the book there are flashes of brilliant observations, little lotuses in the mud; lines that show a raw vulnerability and rare, innocent love. Natsu describes her life with her sister.

“We had no money. We had nothing. But we had each other. We had our words, and all the feelings that we never even thought of putting into words.”

On a particularly blue evening, Natsu wonders,

“How many more times in my life would I sit back like this and find myself transfixed by the blue of the evening? Is this what it means to live and die alone? That you’ll always be in the same place, no matter where you are?”

At the end of it all, I was reminded of Natsu at the point where she feels suffocated by her own lack of clarity. She feels paralyzed “from the neck up, blocking the parts of me that created my emotions, all the sadness and the torment…”

I kind of felt like that when I finished reading the book.

I got a free copy in exchange for a review.

I kept hearing about this, so had to check it out. I also love Japanese authors.

It wasn’t for me. And while the story left much to be desired, especially Natsuko’s too long quest to find a donor.

But it’s well written, in that I could read it and didn’t hate it, didn’t love it, but surprisingly liked it even though the magical realism elements were just plain bizarre (the sauna scene and the eggs cracking scene) and it took way too long getting to the end.

But by the end, I was taken in by her quest. I wouldn’t mind checking out something else written by her.

With a massive killing of darlings or perhaps separating the first and second book, this could be really stellar.

This is an intriguing story in two halves, telling the story of Natsu. The first half of the book deals with A visit from Osaka to Tokyo from Natsu’s sister and niece, while the second half looks in-depth at Natsu’s longing for a child of her own.

The fascination comes from the detailed exploration of mundane events in the lives of the many women characters contrasted with the enormous issues of identity, existence and purpose of life.

The strangeness of the setting for non- Japanese readers enhances the prompts to consider women’s choices and different ways of life, contrasting the different freedoms of money and parenthood and the implications of choice on both parents and children.

Characters are well-drawn and sympathetic, and the novel’s tone is warm and direct throughout. The second half of the book explores some big concepts and for me doesn’t do justice to the subject of donor conception, but it does raise aspects of the subject sympathetically.

Overall an awe-inspiring attempt to explore modern Japanese womanhood in all its guises, with a welcome and well-written ending.

Like a lot of novels I started reading Mieko Kawakami’s Breasts and Eggs not knowing much about it but hoping it would be a good ‘un. And I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was actually really good - up to a point. That point would be after the episode where the main character’s older sister and her daughter come to visit. All that stuff after - about the main character Natsu trying to get pregnant artificially - was ass!

The novel felt so much like two different stories stuck together that I looked into the background a little more and found out that, yup, the first story - let’s call it Breasts, because it’s about Natsu’s older sister wanting to get a boob job - was originally a standalone novella, and the second part - let’s call it Eggs because it’s about Natsu trying to get pregnant artificially - was written later. They’re combined here as Breasts and Eggs.

If this book was just Breasts I would giving it four out of five stars. It’s a really interesting portrait of a 30 year-old single woman working dead-end jobs and trying to be a writer while her equally impoverished older sister struggles to make a living as an aging hostess and maintaining a difficult relationship with her teenage daughter.

Both sisters have been poor their whole lives and still can’t make any decent money. It’s a fascinating portrait of the underside of Japanese society that you rarely see and reminds me of the superb 2018 Japanese movie Shoplifters. Natsu, Makiko and Midoriko are fully-realised, believable and sympathetic characters whose ability to keep going despite seemingly never-ending hardship was inspiring. I was fully onboard and couldn’t wait to see where this novel was going.

And then there’s the time jump, both in the novel and in real life, because Kawakami wrote Eggs after Breasts and also set it ten years later. Natsu’s a successful novelist now and feels the desire to become a mother - except she hates sex and can’t have a relationship with a man.

This went on and on and on for two-thirds of the book - Eggs is twice as long as Breasts and isn’t even half as interesting; this section is what really drags down the rating to two stars. Natsu looks into her options for artificial insemination, gets involved with a strange support network of people who were born artificially, and things happen for no real reason to no effect (characters dying, relationships ending and starting) before closing on a trite, feel-good ending.

Makiko and Midoriko appear briefly in Eggs but they didn’t seem like the same characters as before and it felt like their inclusion was an attempt to connect the two disparate pieces into fooling the reader that they were reading a complete novel. Even Natsu doesn’t seem like the same person she was in Eggs. I mean, sure, people change over time, but it just felt arbitrary that she would suddenly want to become a mother. Especially since a large part of Breasts was about how bad her and Makiko’s childhood was and how providing for kids had killed their single mother at an early age.

I suppose the novel is vaguely about being a woman, or something, but I didn’t think Kawakami had anything substantial to say about that, if it was. The first section alone would’ve been a great standalone piece about the struggles and relationships of working-class women in modern-day Japan but paired with the meandering, dull, utterly boring second and final piece about getting pregnant without having sex, that unfortunately makes up the bulk of this book, the novel turns into a slow and tedious slog to the final page.

I doubt anyone would stop reading after the first section, which is the only part of the book I’d say is worth reading, but, for anyone struggling beyond that point, I’d say to give up as it doesn’t get any better after it.

Although I wanted to enjoy this book a lot, I couldn't. The characters and the story looked promising enough and I love Japanese literature the best but still I didn't enjoy Kawakami's style. The book felt like I was reading a boring diary of an uninteresting person. I failed to connect with any of the characters and lost interest after 70 pages.

Breasts and Eggs is the story of three women: thirty-year-old Natsu, her older sister, Makiko, and Makiko’s daughter, Midoriko.

The book combines two novellas. In ‘Breasts’ Makiko has traveled to Tokyo in search of a breast enhancement surgery. Her daughter Midoriko, has recently stopped speaking as she finds herself unable to give voice to the overwhelming pressure of becoming a woman. Her silence acts allows Natsu and Makiko to confront their fears and frustrations.

‘Eggs’ is set ten years later, as Natsu struggles with her growing success as a author while confronting her fears about growing old alone and childless and navigating the complexities of female friendships.

‘Breasts’ is the more successful of the novellas and also describes the crushing effect of living in poverty in Tokyo.

Translation is written in first person, overall tone somewhat indifferent.

Certain word choices tend to reinforce the perception that the narrator is immature, veering to the devil may care-like personality conveyed through the text.

A great disservice to the author’s first full length book debut in English language. Both translators most likely failed to empathized with the author’s writing, which is such a missed opportunity.

In the original Japanese, it is written in second person, from the outside looking in, which sets the atmosphere of the story. Plus the narrator seem rather ambivalent than indifferent.

DNF

Dropping this like a hot potato.

1 star

From the first sentence this book is outstanding. I felt like I was there in the apartment with Natsu, Makiko and Midoriko (her journal entries were heartbreaking) and the detail and observations were just incredible. The build up of atmosphere and anxiety was done so brilliantly, and I enjoyed the skip to a later date to find out more about what was happening to them all. I was totally gripped. Thank you so much for the review copy. I'll be posting five star reviews on other sites, and buying everything I can by Mieko Kawakami.

First of all, thank you to NetGalley for a copy in exchange for a fair review.

Going into Breasts and Eggs I knew very little beyond the fact that the novel, despite coming from Japan would not have the trappings of many Japanese stories. This is true. Japanese societal concerns such as regionalism, working in bars and a declining birth rate do make their way into the novel but so do spaghetti (not ramen) and ravioli.

I found the first ‘Book’ (or part) slower going. The voice is strong but less certain than in the second ‘Book’ where the narrator is little older and things are happening specifically to her or around her. I got along much better with this part! Breasts and Eggs is about various interactions of individuals born as women, trying to be women and being confused or frustrated with parts of how that is going. Motherhood frequently comes up. Characters interact with the narrator and explain their experiences - while the narrator manages to hold her own personality within the narrative even as the reader follows her working things out.

What I liked about this book was the permission characters are given to find the act of living a difficult for various reasons, make mistakes, make their own choices and most of them are women, given that space.