Despite the super cute cover, I am going to have to rate this 2 stars. I thought some of the book was poignant, but overall, I just didn't enjoy it that much.

3.5 stars rounded up

This was a bit of an odd read, but that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it. Weasels in the Attic is a collection of three short stories portraying different moments in the lives of the same characters and exploring the themes of relationships, masculinity and fertility. Each of the three stories is short enough to read in a single sitting, which I really enjoyed. Weasels in the Attic is well-written and easy to read, and a great book for anyone looking for something easy and entertaining.

This was a great short story. That I really enjoyed reading. Well short stories in a short book. I loved how it included information about tropical fish which is something I have read a story where the fish are almost the central feature of the book. It was a great cultural book that I finished in one sitting. I love reading books by Japanese authors as they are so different and this one e didn't disappoint. I loved how strange the stories were it certainly got me thinking. It was well wrote and flowed so well at a medium pace. The characters were interesting. I recommend reading this book if you love Japanese stories and like a break from your normal reading to try something different. 

Many thanks to the author and publishers for creating this enjoyable read. It certainly entertained me.
The above review has already been placed on goodreads, waterstones, Google books, Barnes&noble, kobo, amazon UK where found and my blog https://ladyreading365.wixsite.com/website/post/weasels-in-the-attic-by-hiroko-oyamada-granta-publishers-4-stars either under my name or ladyreading365

3,5 - A strange but fun and very readable, little Japanese novella-in-three-parts.

It is about two 30-something friends who meet at three different occasions: the death of a mutual friend, a housewarming and the birth of a child.

The stories all have something unsettling, tension builds up, but then often they end a little too abruptly (which was somewhat thought-provoking but I suspect it would have been more satisfying if things were a bit more spelled out).

Oyamada has the ability to create such tense narratives which end up leaving a chill in the air. I wasn’t sure if I was reading a thriller or literary fiction. The way the short stories all connect into one is quite thrilling and would love to try more of their work.

Some fascinating novella’s from Japan. This is the first Japanese fiction I’ve read and so even the minutiae of life was interesting and so varied culturally. I’d definitely look out for more stories from Oyamada.

There are three stories in this short novella. The first focuses on an old friend of the narrator and his wife. The second is about another friend who has also married recently. The third is about the second friend and his family. Associated with these meetings are tales of tropical fish and weasels invading a house. There are themes of motherhood, masculinity, societal expectations and children.

This is a quirky and intriguing read; very much based on conversations rather than action. The writing and the translation are excellent. The subject matter which is created with a certain detachment creates a strange but not unlikable atmosphere. This is a slightly weird but rewarding book.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Granta Publications for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Disconcerting but in a good way. Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for an advanced copy of this book.

First of all, I would like to thank Netgalley and the publisher for providing me with an early copy of the book in return for an honest review.

The story centres around the 40-something protagonist and his wife, as they (together and separately) spend time with friends, with their attempts to have a child forming the background of events. While not much happens, the story is a nuanced description of communication (or lack thereof) in contemporary Japan. It also provides a glimpse into loneliness in and around marriage as one ages.

I overall liked it very much. Its brief enough to not be tiring despite the lack of a concrete plot, but long enough to convey complex ideas that makes one think, and stay with one long after the novella is finished. The writing is edgy and, similar to a lot of other contemporary Japanese authors, leaves as much said as it does unsaid. The characters are genuine, and their emotional burdens feel real. The sadness and loneliness permeating the story, despite multiple babies and pregnancies. Perhaps it's the latter that makes the loneliness and dejection more pronounced.

I can't say it's the best thing I read coming out of Japan, but it is for sure among the top quartile. Spending more time exploring the backstories of the protagonists and the societal circumstances that caused them to become as lonely as they are might have made the story more complete.

The punchiness reminds me a bit of Tanizaki's novellas. Highly recommended.

Weasels in the Attic is a charming little novella which explores themes of fertility and parenthood with care. At the heart of the novel, Oyamada’s narrator is struggling to conceive with his wife of three years. Their misfortune is becoming increasingly apparent as they spend more time with peers who have been able to have children.

For me, it’s Oyamada’s subtext that makes the book an exceptional read even if you’re not into being spooked. Oyamada’s cultural commentary exposes how people impose their ideas of marital success onto others. Our narrator is particularly quiet about how much he wants a baby, although he’ll admit to the reader that he does definitely want kids. It’s the pressure and pure desperation from his wife that suggests how these expectations can ruin. When she asks him to do a fertility test but withholds the results, readers are left unsure about what to think of her. It’s clear that she feels an inadequacy in her life, believing that a child will complete their family. But what extent will she go to in order to have a child? Oyamada leaves this chilling question unanswered.

As thought-provoking as it is unsettling, this spooky novella a fantastic shorter read which I think will definitely appeal to older YA readers.

As ever, I am incredibly grateful to both Granta Publications and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC of this novel in exchange for an honest review. This is an excerpt of a full review which can be found on my blog, The Books in Their Hands.

Thank you Netgalley for the arc!

Firstly, I cannot fathom how someone can fit 3 short stories with such deep topics into under 100 pages?!

I loved this book, and I loved the care that was taken to write about infertility, treatment of women, adult friendships and the best way to deal with weasels.

I really recommend this as a quick read for someone looking for a well written book which touches on some key areas of femininity and the cycle of life. Not only this but Hiroko's writing left me feeling like something bad was looming in the distance (and luckily it never was), but I personally really enjoy uneasy writing and I couldn't put this down.

This has really made me a fan of Hiroko Oyamada's work and I will be checking out more of her books in the future.

Weasels in the Attic by Hiroko Oyamada (translated by David Boyd) is more a novella than a novel. But Omada manages to pack a punch into this brevity. The three connected stories that make up the novel as a whole explore issues of parenthood and responsibility from a Japanese perspective.
In the first part of the novel the narrator recalls the time that he went to meet Shuzo Urabi, a friend of his friend Saiki. The pair are surprised to find that Shuzo, who is independently wealthy and breeds tropical fish, not only has married to a much younger woman but has a child. In the second story, the narrator and his wife go to visit Saiki and his new, younger wife Yoko in their new house in the mountains and over dinner they discuss how to deal with the pair’s weasel infestation. And in the third part, the pair go to visit again after Saiki and Yoko have had a baby girl, Yukiko, and end up staying the night due to inclement weather. Through all of this, the narrator and his wife are wanting to have a baby of their own, although it is unclear how much the narrator is invested in this endeavour, and what the underlying issue is that is preventing them.
Despite its naturalistic concerns there is more than a hint of the surreal in these stories that heightens the drama. Oyamada plays with the perceptions of her main character and despite the first person narration, gets behind them. And every element of the story is thematically resonant from the experimental breeding of discus fish to the disturbing story of how to solve the weasel problem (and the implication that it was then used). And while these are in some ways universal themes, Oyamada’s sensibility puts an interesting and thought provoking spin on them.

An unsettling, nuanced, and tense short read about parenthood, societal expectations, and gender roles.

I haven't read any of Hiroko Oyamada's work before, but this was such an interesting read to me. Given that the book is so short, and is split into three sections, each describing the male narrator's seemingly mundane visit to friends, the atmosphere is so unsettling and strange, it left me pondering the book for a long time afterward, as I tried to break down what each interaction meant, and the meaning in the shadowy subtext.

By the time the weasels in the attic subject was confronted, at a friendly dinner, the description of the potential solution was so disturbing, and the reactions of the characters to it, so thought-provoking, that scene will stay with me for a long time.

So many questions remain, the lengths a mother will go to, the expectations and implications placed on women, and especially how reactions to women are defined by their age and dress, was also subtley woven in. On the one hand, there's the pressure to become a parent on one hand, and how different genders react to that, and on the other, there's the ongoing theme of the lengths mothers will go to for their young, or perhaps to become parents in the first place? Is the baby even his? Did she take the decision to become a mother whatever the cost?

I will also now forever find tropical fish quite a bit more threatening than I did before.

Having read Hiroko Oyamada’s The Hole and The Factory, I was intrigued by the premise of Weasels in the Attic, which has recently been translated into English. This book is divided into three self-contained episodes centred on the same character. Our narrator’s wife really wants to have children but he seems far less enthused by the idea. Two of the episodes revolve around his acquaintances/friends of his, one of whom owns large quantities of this type of exotic fish and has recently gotten together with a younger woman, the other, also married, has settled down into a home that is already occupied by a family of weasels. The male characters are all similar shades of unpleasant and obsessive as they recount their surreal experience with these animals and or their romantic relationships. Our narrator is rather unpleasant himself as he becomes intrigued by someone other than his wife (if i recall correctly…). There is a feverish, oppressive even, atmosphere characterizing most of the interactions and happenings in these stories. Realistic scenarios and dynamics are given a surreal dimension through the addition of bizarre elements or anecdotes. Oyamada seems to have a knack for drawing out the weird from everyday life, but here I found myself bored by the sameness of these three stories. Perhaps it would be more interesting if the perspective had switched from the husband to the wife, or to some other characters as the author did in The Factory which incorporated several povs. Still, even if Weasels in the Attic didn’t quite hit the right spot for me, I remain intrigued by Oyamada’s storytelling and look forward to being ‘weirded’ out again by her future works. (less)

2.5/5 ⭐️ This isn’t a bad book by any means, Oyamada touches on topics like fertility, the longing of parenthood, friendship and marriage with such care, but unfortunately each story felt like it ended too abruptly and I was left wishing it was more surreal like her previous book The Hole. I think a lot of people looking for a short, quiet read will definitely enjoy this one though and I’m excited to see what else she writes!

Direct and fragmented, poignant and engaging, Oyamada's "Weasels in the Attic" delves into the themes and concepts of family and fatherhood, decontructing and subverting them.

Fascinating slim novel about fertility, marriage and friendship with a surreal atmosphere. The endings are sudden adn open, almost as if you missed something, but it worked for me here and kept me intrigued.
Thank you Granta and Netgalley for the DRC.

I read this whole book standing on a cold platform waiting for a delayed train home while I should have been eating my dinner. As a result of this hangry feeling, this book made me quite cross because of its vivid culinary descriptions. I loved the sneaky weasel aspect (have I ever read about weasels in a fiction book before? Not sure) and the snappy unsubstantial feeling to the whole novella. But boy oh boy, don’t read it if you’re hungry.

This book comprised three short stories around two main characters, the narrator and his friend.

The stories were odd, and all had an exotic fish theme. The most frustrating thing was that the stories didn't really go anywhere - there was no twist and no real ending to them. I found I was perhaps looking for a dark twist and meaning where there may not have been any. I wonder if reading them a second time would raise meaning I had missed.

I quite like Japanese fiction as it can be a little strange but I'm not sure I would go back to this author.

3,5 stars

Weasels in the Attic is a novella composed of three stories originally published over a number of years. They’re all narrated by the same, unnamed man who is trying to come to terms with his wife’s desire to have children and his own uncertainties. Each story revolves around an encounter with another couple and their offspring, and highlights issues around marriage, parental responsibility and the ways in which social expectations impact on communication between men and women. Oyamada draws on animal symbolism from the “wily” weasel to human-animal relations played out in the depiction of tropical fish in two of these stories. Women, on the other hand, are less well realised, shadowy or peripheral figures, sometimes close to a form of commodity – the men seem obsessed with the fact that two of the wives here are younger than their male partners, significant for their status-enhancing potential rather than as individuals in their own right. Social interactions, even between friends, are represented as tense, awkward affairs, muffled and distant. Only animals are discussed or considered in any explicit detail, from the notoriously difficult to rear discus fish to the uncanny bony tongue, and the strangely unnerving weasels that infest one character’s supposedly ideal rural home.

Oyamada’s narratives seem to focus on banalities and social convention as in the shared meals featured in each episode. But then there are sudden ruptures as in a scene recalled by the narrator’s wife, an old, macabre method for ridding houses of weasels which incidentally reinforces the conceptual gap between maternal and paternal roles. Another arresting scene involves the narrator’s nightmare about a primitive bony tongue fish, bringing to the fore the narrator’s ambivalent feelings about the prospect of becoming a father. Oyamada’s style is direct yet elliptical, there are some stirring descriptive passages and imagery, but there’s also a sense that the narratives are not quite fully formed, an impression that’s possibly deliberate, reflecting the narrator’s inability to confront or fully comprehend the feelings stirred by his interactions. Oyamada’s fragmented approach to contemplating the nature of heterosexual families, fatherhood and lifestyle choices through her conflicted narrator is interesting, novel and engaging. But the work as a whole could also seem unnecessarily vague and insubstantial. Translated by David Boyd.