Member Reviews
I fell in love with this absolutely beautiful book and have immediately gone out to buy a copy for my collection. I’m a widow, so a book that addresses love and loss so eloquently speaks to me emotionally. It is devastating, but also uplifting and life enhancing at the same time. I will be writing a longer review when I have more time to feature it on my blog.
The Japanese tsunami in 2011 is something that has lived long in my memory, maybe because it was captured so comprehensively through filming on mobile phones and CCTV. I remember staring at the TV screen in a strange mix of awe and horror. It was the first time I had fully comprehended the power of such a huge tidal wave. I had always thought a tsunami was exactly like the painting by Hokusai where a single huge wave sweeps over the coastline then stops. I have lived next to the River Trent for my whole life, and my father who is a land drainage engineer showed me a large Aegir one autumn and explained that a tsunami is like a huge wall of water that doesn’t stop. Seeing the footage from Japan really brought that home to me as whole coastal towns were simply washed away in a series of waves reaching up to 128 feet high and encroaching up to 10 km inland. I think I watched it so many times because I couldn’t comprehend the enormity of the disaster. This author took this event and brought it down to a human level, so we can see the effect of this life changing disaster on the Japanese people, but also show us that heartbreak and loss is universal.
Yui is living the terrible aftermath of the tsunami where she lost both her daughter and her mother, her past memories and hope for the future wiped out in a moment. As she tries to make sense of this loss, she carries out day to day life quietly and on the surface, keeping her deepest feelings within herself. It’s like living under a veil or fog where people can’t reach you. Whilst doing her radio show she hears about a man who keeps a telephone box in his garden, where people can go and say the things they need to say to lost loved ones. She wonders if this could really console people, to speak down a disconnected phone line and let those unspoken words go into the ether? Could it console her? If she had the chance to speak, what could she say to her daughter?
She travels out to the garden at Bell Gardia, but can’t bring herself to go inside. However, she does meet a man who has and spoke to his late wife, who died leaving him with a young daughter, Hana. He explains that he gets to tell her about the plans he has for their daughter as well as normal everyday things he was so used to telling her. This is one of the things many bereaved people miss, that ability to come home and share your day with someone. The silence can be deafening. So, instead of using the telephone, Yui travels to Bell Gardia every month and meets Takeshi for lunch. He becomes the person she chats to as they share their grief and their hopes for the future. Slowly they start to message each other back in Tokyo, just little messages about their day and how they’re feeling. They become each other’s person, the one they touch base with every day. However, this brings its own complexity, because feelings are starting to grow between the two of them. Their fledgling relationship is so tender and fragile. Falling in love during grief is so complicated. Love lifts our heart and makes us hopeful, while grief makes us look back and brings sorrow. The heart is being pulled into two directions at once. There’s a strange survivor’s guilt on both sides; Takeshi is developing tender feelings for a woman who is not his wife, while Yui is starting to feel attached to a young girl who is not her daughter.
Inbetween this beautiful story are interludes that seem unrelated to the main story. However, they are integral to the experience of the tsunami. These are washed up fragments of people’s lives appearing in the narrative, in the same way that debris from the tsunami washed up as far as North America years later. Some of them belong to Yui - parts of a book she once bought Hana, a list of her favourite Brazilian music. There are also receipts, descriptions of clothing, random memories that remind us this is not just two people’s experience. There are millions of other stories out there, just as tender and full of sorrow.
This is a beautiful, moving meditation on love and loss. The story is tentative, even the dialogue is delicate. It’s like a fragile piece of lace, held together by tiny threads, but creating a beautiful whole. If you’re looking for action and plot twists this isn’t your book. At times it’s like reading poetry. However, if you have ever lost someone you will find common experiences and universal feelings about life moving on. Simply a stunning piece of writing that I will treasure.
This was a great book. Really enjoyed it, even though the topic was on loss and grief it was really well done and took you on a very thoughtful journey. Really enjoyed this one as different to a lot of other books which makes it very refreshing to read!
The Phone Box at the Edge of the World is a poignant story exploring grief, emotional trauma, and how to pick your life up after it has fallen to pieces. We follow Yui and Takeshi, two people who both lost a lot. Yui's mother and daughter both died in the 2011 tsunami, while Takeshi's wife was taken by cancer. Their pain brings them to the same special place - to a phone box with a disconnected line, where you can talk to the people who are no longer beside you.
This was such a beautiful read, powerful in its quiet simplicity. Given that grief and pain is such a central topic, I thought I was going to feel exhausted while reading it; that it would make me cry, or make me depressed. Instead what I got this meditative melancholy and a resurgence of hope, of human resilience.
The writing is not at all flowery or over the top, there aren't any scenes in there purely for the shock value but the text flows effortlessly which makes the reading experience a breeze, despite the heavy topic. It doesn't try to shove "big lessons" down your throat. It just shows life, how savage it can be sometimes but also how strong we can be when we find a way to heal and keep on going.
The story is set in Japan and the cultural tidbits that were woven into the story completely fascinated me. It came as a surprise that this is not an own voices novel. Thanks to a little research, I found out that the author is Italian and this is a translation - which I am happy about, I don't read nearly enough translated books nowadays - however, she did live in Japan and I believe her husband is also Japanese. This familiarity with the culture truly shined here and I loved it. Even better is the fact that the phone box, or "wind phone" and the garden surrounding it really does exist.. So quite aside from Yui and Takeshi, and all the other characters whose journey we follow or get a glimpse of in this book, we also get to think about the various ways in which we as humans deal with grief. And the wind phone is a very real way, one of many.
The only thing I wish was done differently has to do with the narrative choices. Most of the time, the narrative distance is quite big - what I mean by that is that the scenes in the book rarely unfurl directly in front of us, with dialogue. There is little to no sense of immediacy and while it mostly works because the change in the characters happens so slowly that it makes sense to have that distance, sometimes I would have preferred a bit more proximity. Just for the bigger, more important scenes. I think it took away some of the tension in the storyarc and from the development of Yui and Takeshi's relationship.
Overall, I think this is an absolutely beautiful and worthwile read and I am so happy I stumbled across it. I can recommend this to anyone who is interested in these topics, even if you usually stay away from emotionally taxing reads. This was not a tear jerker - at least for me, and that's a positive. It didn't take out of me to keep reading, it gave me hope and this wonderful sense of calm that I can only attribute to the writing style. This book is ultimately not about the tragedy itself but the recovery, the healing, and the hope that remembering and moving on are not mutually exclusive.
This book is so beautifully written, the words so carefully chosen and the way loss and grief and hope are portrayed is unique. Very moving and I'm sure, will touch everyone who reads it. Excellent read.
An emotional read, and knowing that the story is based on true events adds that extra tug on the heartstrings. Tragic but beautiful.
I was really drawn to the synopsis of the book when I first read about it. Just the thought of a telephone box close to the sea that carries messages from the living to the dead really warmed my heart. It was such a beautiful way to deal with grief. So I decided to give the book a read.
'The Phone Box at the Edge of the World' was just stunning. I loved how thoughtful and delicate this book was in exploring the themes of grief and love. It wasn't harrowingly sad or bleak despite it being centered around death and grief. Instead it was uplifting, hopeful and lyrical. I also liked the little snippets of random information in between the chapters. My only complaint is that I felt there were parts that could have been delved a tiny bit deeper. It seemed a bit rushed in places but otherwise, I really enjoyed it.
Overall, 'The Phone Box at the Edge of the World' is a beautifully written book about grief and loss. It’s a lovely and uplifting.
A beautifully written story that flows through ravaged loss, desolation, resilience, hope, and the promise of a future with love and peace. The Phone Box at the End of the World by Laura Imai Messina is a book that gently enriches the soul and beats with a loving serenity.
The harrowing aftermath of a natural disaster strips away normality with the sudden and unprepared death of loved ones and the destruction of property. Yui is heartbroken following a Tsunami which hit Japan on 11 March 2011 and took her mother and young daughter’s lives. Yui radiates a reverent sorrow, which captures the sense of loss, heartbreak, and tenderness with a character trying to make sense of everything through the shroud of grief.
Yui works at a radio station and hears about a phone box in a garden on a hill in Bell Gardia, where people visit to speak with the departed.
“A disconnected phone on which you could talk to your lost loved ones. Could something like that really console people? And what would she say to her mother anyway? What could she possibly say to her little girl? The thought alone made her dizzy.”
The voices are carried away on the wind to their loved ones and while Yui is drawn to the place, she never goes inside the phone box. She meets Takeshi who is a surgeon and recently lost his wife leaving him with his mother and a three-year-old daughter, Hana, who has stopped speaking. Takeshi talks to his wife through the phone about the life and plans he and his daughter have.
Once a month Yui and Takeshi meet at Bell Gardia and gradually start chatting to each other, they sit on a bench and eat their lunch together. Over time they start to message each other when back in Tokyo, until a day without contact is rare. As time passes the most thoughtful and tender relationship develops, a relationship filled with devotion but the apprehension that comes with thoughts of betraying the memories of loved ones; Takeshi dealing with feelings of another woman and Yui dealing with a young girl that could have been her daughter.
Each main chapter in the book is separated by a very short chapter that acts as an interlude and I thought of these as random fragmented memories. A receipt for a frame, a description of an object, a list of the ten most vivid memories of a person, what Yui’s mother and daughter were wearing on the morning of 11 March 2011, Yui’s favourite Brazilian songs, the original title of the picture book on the afterlife that Yui gave to Hana. The emotional context of the story is very delicately drawn and the interactions between characters are inviting, with a dialogue that is cautious and fragile.
While the novel is beautifully written I felt it took quite a long time to develop and lacked activity and intrigue. The story probably may turn in a final twist but no matter what, the conclusion will leave you with lingering images and endearing memories. If you love to read beautiful prose (which I couldn’t help highlighting) and immerse yourself in a gentle moving story of love and loss, this is a book for you, and for me. It just felt that something more captivating was missing, hence the 4 stars.
I would recommend this book and I would like to thank Bonnier Books UK and NetGalley for providing me with a free ARC in return for an honest review.
This was an interesting read and made me consider all the things I need to tell those around me. I am looking forward to more from this author!
Beautiful and moving, this is a joy to read.
It really captures the terrible loss and pain of those left behind, not just after a major tragedy like a tsunami, but also after those small ones in people's lives, the deaths of loved ones.
I liked the little lists of characters' thoughts and asides, it made people more realistic as we are made of all of those little things.
Truly a stunning book.
Thank you to Netgalley for my arc of this book.
When reading about this book and reading the reviews, it isn't a book I would usually read but was hoping to fall in love with it as it seemed such a beautiful book.
Set after the 2011 Tsunami, I loved the 2 main characters and the relationship they had and almost made me cry in parts, talking about their losses and families and how hard it must have been after the tsunami.
However I just didnt fall in love with the book like other people seemed to. There wasnt much of a story and as much as I loved the 2 main characters I just didnt enjoy the book unfortunately.
It's such a beautifully written book and I'm sure many people will love it, but it wasnt a book for me.
Evenly paced and emotive, it gave me the best view of how Japanese life is so similar to ours of all the fiction I've read in recent years. I hadn't had such an honest view of the human impact on survivors after a natural disaster. I look forward to recommending this.
Beautiful and gently told, this novel deals with loss and bereavement and ultimately love and joy in a very sensitive, very Japanese manner and cannot fail to touch your heart.
Set after the tsunami which devastated Fukushima in Japan in 2011, the story follows Yui who lost her mother and daughter in the tsunami. The story moves back and forth in time between the days immediately following the disaster and the years that follow.
When Yui discovers the phone box hidden in rural Japan where people go to talk to their lost loved ones, she makes the long journey to see if it will help her, but when she gets there she doesn't feel ready to speak yet. She starts to build new connections with the other people who visit the phone box in Bell Gardia who speak into the wind to feel closer to their loved ones. The author tells their stories tenderly and sensitively.
Originally published in Italian as Quel che affidiamo al vento (What we entrust to the wind), the book is based on a real place run by a couple in Japan which can be visited by those who are grieving.
This is a really beautiful novel exploring loss, grief and finding hope when so much has been lost. I gave this 4 out of 5.
Inspired by true events, this book tells the story of Yui and Takeshi, and how they are brought together following the loss of their loved ones. Losing her mother and daughter in Japan's 2011 Tsunami was utterly devastating for Yui. She hears of a place called Bell Gardia, and its 'wind phone', a phone box used by people who want to speak to lost relatives. It is believed that the strong winds that blow through Bell Gardia carry their voices to the deceased. Yui sets out to find the phone box and meets Takeshi, who having lost his wife is as alone and grief stricken as Yui. I thought this book was beautifully written and the descriptions of the garden at Bell Gardia were gorgeous. I did not know before reading it, that the book is based on true events and that Bell Gardia and its wind phone really do exist. A wonderful read.
My review is on Goodreads and has been posted to Amazon, pending approval.
My thanks to Bonnier Books - Mantilla Press for an eARC via NetGalley of ‘The Phone Box at the Edge of the World’ by Laura Imai Messina in exchange for an honest review. It was translated from the Italian by Lucy Rand.
As it was published on the day I began reading, I obtained its audiobook edition, narrated by Yuriri Naka, and combined listening with reading the eARC.
“This story was inspired by a real place, in the northeast of Japan, in Iwate Prefecture.
One day, a man installed a telephone box in the garden of his house at the foot of Kujira-yama, the Mountain of the Whale, just next to the city of Ōtsuchi, one of the places worst hit by the tsunami of 11th March 2011. Inside there is an old black telephone, disconnected, that carries voices into the wind. Thousands of people make the pilgrimage there every year.” - opening statement, ‘The Phone Box at the Edge of the World’
Yui had lost her mother and daughter in the tsunami. She is uncertain how she will carry on. Then she hears about the ‘wind phone’ and how those who have lost loved ones speak to them and begin to come to terms with their grief.
Eventually Yui makes her own pilgrimage to the phone box. Yet once there she finds that she cannot bring herself to speak into the receiver. She begins to regularly visit and befriends its custodian.
Then she meets Takeshi, a bereaved husband whose daughter has stopped talking in the wake of their loss. A friendship develops over time.
This is a deeply moving lyrical novel that explores themes of grief and loss as well as hope and love. Laura Imai Messina writes in her closing notes: “I decided to keep the garden’s name as homage to the tireless work and enormous heart of the Sasakis, and in the hope that Bell Gardia will be imprinted on our collective memory as one of the world’s strongest sites of resilience.”
Although I was reading an eARC it was clear that the novel has been formatted in an interesting fashion. The beginning of each chapter is illustrated with flying birds and there are a few other illustrations in the text as well as alongside the main narrative quirky, short chapters containing playlists, poetry, quotes, miscellaneous lists, and the like.
Messina, who has lived in Japan for fifteen years, weaves aspects of Japanese culture throughout the text and also provides a glossary and a list of referenced works at the end.
As someone who has experienced deep bereavement, I found this a profound experience unlike anything that I have read previously. I felt that it was a powerfully spiritual novel that conveys universal themes.
I loved its original Italian title: Quel che affidiamo al vento, which the author translates as ‘What We Entrust to the Wind’.
I plan on adding its hardback edition to my library in the near future in order to revisit and treasure its message as well as appreciate its unique layout.
Given the quality of the writing and its themes, I am hoping that it will be included in next year’s International Booker Prize.
A touching and poignant story about grief and the powerful affect of hope.
Yui lost her mother and daughter in the tsunami of 2011 and is struggling to see a way of carrying on with life.
She hears of an old man who has installed an old phone box in his garden and that people are travelling from far and wide to go there to talk to their lost loved ones.
Intrigued Yui decides to make the journey for herself but once she gets there she finds that she is unable to face entering the phone box. Instead she contents herself by wandering the peaceful gardens and listening to the wind.
During her visit to the phone box she meets Takeshi who recently lost his wife, and whose daughter has stopped talking as a way to deal with her grief.
With so much in common, a bond develops between the two as they come to terms with their own loss and learn the power of love.
This was such a tragic yet hopeful story inspired by real life events. Beautifully written and told in such a sensitive way, you can’t help but be drawn in.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers (Manilla Press and Bonnier Zaffre) for providing a copy of the book for review. All opinions are my own and provided willingly.
The Phone Box at the Edge of the World is a beautifully written and translated novel about hope for anyone is grieving and feeling lost.
Yui loses her mother and daughter in the tsunami in March 2011 after the earthquake in Japan, and not only does she have to cope with feelings of why she survived and the changed world around her but also she is left wandering how she will survive with her life ripped apart.
The way that Laura Imai Messina writes about Yui’s consumed grief is raw, and at times I had to put this book down as it was such a powerfully and sad story but I couldn’t put it down for too long as it is heart-warming and shows how grief doesn’t just stop but evolves.
Hearing about a disused phone box in an old man’s back garden where people go to talk to their lost loved ones with their voices tangled in the wind; Yui makes that pilgrimage to the phone box, leaving behind the city and takes a step into the garden, but doesn’t go inside.
Yui befriends the owner, and starts to go regularly, each time she just sits outside the box, watching others step inside. Slowly she starts learning the stories of other people who make the journey and becomes close to Takeshi, who has lost his wife and left him the sole carer for this young daughter.
As Yui learns to live with her grief and letting go of the life she thought she was going to have with watching her daughter grow up, and starts to see that she needs to live her life to honour their deaths.
Even though this book made me tearful several times, this is a uplifting book about hope even if you feel like you've reached the end and lost everything. You can buy The Phone Box at the Edge of the World from your favourite bookshop.
I was approved for an ebook advanced copy via Netgalley.
It was an honour to read this wonderful book about love, loss, and grief, inspired by a real place in the northeast of Japan http://bell-gardia.jp/about_en. Yui lost her mother and daughter in the tsunami of 11 March 2011 and she uncertain that life will ever be worth living again. She hears the story of a man who has installed a phone box with a disconnected telephone at the end of his beautiful garden. It has been put there for anyone to use to talk to the ones they have lost, to express their sorrow and grief but also just to talk about how their lives are now and it allows for their words to be carried away on the wind. Yui travels to this place, uncertain as to whether she ever be able to speak of her sorrow. She meets a number of other suffers of grief, in particular widower Takeshi and his young daughter Hana. We hear the tales of the other characters’ losses, grieving and hopes for the future.
This is such a beautifully written book with lovely characters. It is subtle, sympathetic and profound. The developing relationship between Yui, Takeshi and Hana is handled with great skill. It is a reflective novel with some delicate insights into what it means to have loved and lost someone. A very emotional read which really struck a chord with me, having lost someone very close this year. It is a real jewel and one of my books of 2020.
Thank you to NetGalley and Bonnier Book UK for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
The Phone Box at the Edge of the World by Laura Imai Messina
This book is set in Japan but was written in Italian. I read it in translation and absolutely loved it. It is a moving and sensitive story about people who are negotiating their way through terrible grief. It follows the story of Yui who lost her mother and daughter in the tsunami of 2011 and of Takeshi whose wife has died of cancer. Since the death of his wife Takeshi’s daughter has stopped speaking and he does not know how to reach her. Together Yui and Takeshi begin to visit Bel Gardia, the home of the Phone Box and so they gradually build a relationship with each other. Although the phone box is based on a real place the story is fiction.
Some people use the phone box to “contact” those who are dead while others use it to communicate with those who they have difficulty reaching. They meet other characters and we learn of their lives and their tragedies. It is an emotional novel but full of hope and happiness. The language and imagery throughout was powerfully simple; stripping life back to the rawness of each person’s emotions. I was also enchanted by the chapters which were sometimes just lists (such as all the cakes Yui and Hana bought on the way home) , a playlist or the conversation which one person had with their loved one.
It was fascinating to learn more about aspects of Japanese culture and I would thoroughly recommend this brief but touching novel. My thanks go to Net Galley and the publishers for the opportunity to read this wonderful book in return for an honest review.
'When nobody is there to see the miracle, the miracle happens.'
Moving and uplifting, this is an emotional novel of loss and redemption, based around the true existence of the Wind Phone in Japan. Yui, who lost her mother and daughter in the 2011 tsunami, and Takeshi, who has lost his wife and is having to cope with his young daughter who has refused to speak ever since, are our two main characters who make the long journey from Tokyo to the isolated phone box together regularly. A whole host of other side characters, each of whom in their own way are dealing with the loss of a loved one, appear in the book, all looking for some peace in simply speaking to the dead.
The book is full of small moments of insight, and the relationship between Yui, Takeshi and his daughter, Hana, is beautifully handled. It is a quiet book, reflective and raw at times, but ultimately gives a space for loss and grief to be engaged with. A small gem of a book in dark times.
(With thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC of this title.)