Thoroughly enjoyed this book. The storyline, the setting, all so different.
At first, it seemed like a strange title for a book that isn’t a cookbook - Butter.
As the story unfolds however, it felt more and more like a different type of cookbook with the ingredients comprising all the fascinating and complex characters we meet along the way.
The author gives us a really captivating and enchanting story and the end left me wanting to know what next.
I would highly recommend it.

Manako Kajii loves to cook almost as much as she likes to eat. She dated older men and took their gifts, mainly financial, providing gourmet quality food in return. But after the death of her three gentlemen, she sits in prison, convicted for their murders. Rika Machida, a junior writer for a weekly magazine, is obsessed with the case. Kajii has refused to give any interviews but after Rika asks for her recipe for beef stew instead of an interview, Rika achieves what no other journalist has been able to; an invitation to visit Kajii at the detention centre.
I had always believed that the enviable long and healthy lives of Japanese people was partly down to how little dairy was consumed, so I was surprised at how much butter featured in this novel. From the tigers turning into butter in The Story of Little Babaji to Kajii recommending Rika add high quality butter to everything she eats, it’s clear to see from where the book gets it’s title. It’s also clear that butter’s job in the book isn’t just culinary; it works also as a metaphor for richness and indulgence in a world where self-denial - to conform to a societal norm of thinness – is expected, especially from women. Butter is a rejection of misogyny and a kick to the shins of patriarchy.
Yuzuki has given butter a lot to carry in this novel.
Kajii came from the ‘dairy capital’ of the prefecture. Rika has hitherto lived a life of denial of most comforts and indulgences. Kajii feels the only life worth living is a life of indulgence. She says she ‘…simply cannot tolerate feminists and margarine.’
Rika’s obsession deepens with her visits to Kajii and we, as the reader, have to ask ourselves how healthy this obsession can be.
This novel is based on the true story of ‘The Konkatsu Killer’ and while it successfully uses this as the springboard to examine misogyny, indulgence, gender roles, family and love, it could have gone much further. If I were to criticise it at all it would be for being too safe, especially when compared to some other Japanese novels (e.g., Sayaka Murat’s Earthlings). But the characters were deftly enough drawn for me to care what happened to them one way of another.
A worthwhile read, for sure, but be prepared to have a hankering for rice with butter and a drop of soy sauce.

Butter follows a journalist, Rika, and the unusual dynamic that develops between her and Manako who has been convicted of seducing and causing the death of three lovers. In her attempts to get the exclusive story, Rika starts to imitate Manako and in doing so starts to question a lot of things about the case and her own life.

This book explores the topic of misogyny, and how harmful expectations of women to do, be, or look a certain way can be. This book is also about food, and alongside rich, detailed descriptions of food, there is also a lot of commentary on weight. The author shares their Japanese perspective of beauty expectations and body image, with a lot of explicit fatphobia. For anyone who might find that difficult reading, I think it is worth knowing we learn our protagonist's weight frequently as it changes, and how it affects her and the behaviour of the people around her.

Butter was a pleasant, thought-provoking read. I saw it shelved as a thriller so was expecting more about a journalist cracking the case of a serial killer. In reality, the book is about social commentary and self-discovery, with food as a vehicle.

I throughly enjoyed Butter. So many incredible descriptions of food that made me hungry and great solid writing. I liked the way it touched on friendship, grief and the sexist attitudes that are still present in Japanese society. As much as I enjoyed it, it was waaaay too long. It could easily have been condensed down. Looking forward to reading about the real life case the author took inspiration from now I’ve wrapped it up.

A 3.5/5!

Thanks to NetGalley and 4th Estate for an eARC!

This had a slow start and I’d imagine if you’re not someone who reads Japanese lit often, you might feel somewhat misled by the blurb and cover.

This is an exploration of a plethora of societal issues. The actual murders themselves are fairly inconsequential, so if you’re looking for a murder mystery or crime story, this is not it.

I however, really enjoyed the journey. There is so much that can be discussed here; feminism, expectations, beauty standards and its relationship with food etc.

I was really rolling my eyes at Kajii’s ‘not like other girls’ attitude coz that’s something that always gets on my nerves but I think the story moved well, particularly after the halfway point.

At her heaviest, Rika was around 60kg which is roughly what I weigh so it was truly a wild experience to read about how she’d let herself go and people calling her fat and saying she needs to go on a diet. For context the average clothes size here for that weight is around a UK10 or 12.

This is a great book to read and discuss with others - I’m waiting for someone I know to have read it so I can pick it apart with them lol.

Based on a true crime that shocked Japan and terrified all men, this book is unsettling but also very addictive.

Kajima, the serial killer in prison, is a very interesting character. She believes in pleasing men as the only way for women to find happiness. And in order to please men as joy, she says a woman must please herself first.

Then we have Rika, a feminist joirnalist, who investigates Kajima’s case. As Rika gets close to Kajima as part of her job, she starts finding enigmatic Kajima more and more fascinating. Kajima transforms Rika into someone like her, a woman who unleshes her desire by eating whatever she wants without worrying about.

I felt uncomfortable unsure what to feel as Rika seemed to get attached to Kajima which is very risky, but at the same time she started to feel more free from social expectations, becoming happier with herself. It is a slow book, not much happens in terms of plot, but I still found it addictive.

The only problem I have with the book is it is too long. Considering the ending and the main message it wanted to convey, I think it could have been 150 pages shorter and still be great. There is a lot of writing about eating or cooking something, which I normally love and enjoyed it in the first 1/3 of the book, but I got bored as there were too much of it.

So all on all, 4 🌟 but if you want a book that’s unique in its premise, I highly recommend it!

A totally new and original story, but the fact that’s it’s based on a true story is so outrageous it’s brilliant. It incorporates everything that’s needed to be the best book club discussion, if I’m not already obsessed by Japanese culture this book has made me make the decision to visit.

This is a compelling read. In the tradition of Murakami and others, another classic Japanese novel which translates so well to English. In no short measure, due to the skills of Polly Barton, the translator. This is a multi-layered read with a crime story wrapped up in gastro-lit and a window into Japanese society. The writing flowed well and is a page-turner of sorts. One of the books of the year in its originality and readibility.


Thank you NetGalley and 4th estate for the ARC

Asako Yuzuki’s Butter builds on the case of infamous “Konkatsu Killer” Kanae Kijima known for the lavish tastes, particularly love of gourmet food – recorded via her recipe blog – that led to the deaths of a series of “sugar daddies” funding her extravagant lifestyle, and resulted in a death sentence for Kanae Kijima. But tellingly, the public and media outcry surrounding Kanae Kijima didn’t centre on her proposed punishment and the disproportionate number of Japanese women awarded the death penalty, or on her crimes, but on Kanae Kijima’s failure to fulfil mainstream, Japanese ideals of beauty. How a woman who, by Japanese standards, was “grossly” overweight attracted so many men became the burning question. A question central to Yuzuki’s novel, sparking a wider examination of issues around women, food, and femininity. An inventive take on Japanese “gastro” fiction a tradition running from Tanizaki’s “The Gourmet Club” to Yoshimoto’s Kitchen to Tawada’s Sugar Time and beyond. Yuzuki apparently studied aspects of culinary arts as background research.

Yuzuki’s primary narrator is Tokyo-based, journalist Rika Machida who’s investigating Manako Kajii, a convicted killer awaiting retrial in an attempt to overturn a life sentence. Rika’s intent on a scoop, an interview with the notoriously reclusive Kajii, as well as an opportunity to assess whether Kajii is actually the innocent victim of a misogynistic system. Like Kajii, Rika is relatively isolated, her closest friend is Reiko who’s recently abandoned her career to embrace married life in suburbia. But, unlike Kajii, Rika rigorously polices her body, strictly maintaining her 50kg weight. Rika has so expertly internalised the idea that appearance is essential to success she no longer recognises hunger. But after she establishes an ongoing bond with Kajii, Kajii’s influence, particularly her obsession with cooking and luxury foods, reawakens Rika’s appetite in unexpected ways, leading to a battle between Kajii and Reiko for Rika’s loyalties.

Yusuki’s complex, sometimes convoluted, narrative takes on a number of social and cultural issues, stemming from concerns over the ways in which Japanese women’s emotional and domestic labour serves to sustain men at women’s expense. A world in which women are expected to feed and nurture men but literally, and metaphorically, starve themselves – at one point Reiko observes that the average Japanese woman now routinely consumes fewer daily calories than women post-WW2, a period in Japan notorious for famine and mass starvation. For women indulgence in food is regarded as gluttony, signifying a lack of overall self-control, something Rika’s colleagues and boyfriend don’t hesitate to point out as her changing body gradually begins to take up more than the socially-desired, space. So that, at least at first, Kajii is presented as a potential, feminist icon, someone vilified for rejecting conventional models of femininity and her refusal to deny her own desires - unlike ambitious but self-effacing Rika. Although Rika too is represented as sneakily challenging, even queering, gender expectations, her “boyishness” earned her the title “prince” at her all-girls’ school, and is still a source of fascination for Reiko. Although by framing Rika’s gender nonconformity via tropes associated with Class S stories, Yuzuki shuts down many of the possibilities that Rika’s “queerness” might open up - Yuzuki’s emphasis is on heterosexuality here. Similarly, the more radical outcomes opened up by Kajii’s character are carefully reined in as Yuzuki’s story unfolds.

I thought Yuzuki’s book was a worthwhile read overall, it offers some interesting insights into Japanese society, poses some intriguing questions and contains numerous compelling scenes. But, at the same time, I found her underlying arguments muddled, frustratingly contradictory and compromised. I enjoyed the referencing of writers like Kawabata; and Yuzuki’s various uses of butter as a means to expose wider social and cultural issues were often productive, and entertaining, although its impact diminished as her story progressed. Yuzuki’s blurring of genre boundaries had a J-drama feel at times, her fiction’s been widely adapted for television. She combines her form of “gastro-lit” with Japanese crime-writing conventions, particularly in its socially-aware, post-WW2 phase, which means stretches of her novel may be too dry or overly detailed for some readers. For me, an improbable twist, followed by a move towards more melodramatic, psychological crime served up with a generous helping of life lessons was far more of a problem – especially the way in which it appeared to reinstate the eccentric or non-conforming as dangerously “other”. Translated by Polly Barton.

Rating: 3 to 3.5

Many thanks to NetGalley and 4th Estate for a digital ARC in exchange for a review.

I already had this book on my wishlist, so when I was very excited to get an email inviting me to read the ARC. This book mostly lived up to my expectations; the plot shifted multiple times throughout, keeping me on my toes. I enjoyed how it related Rika's foodie journey to the wider story, and I particularly related to this aspect as someone who developed a love of cooking as an adult. I did feel like it could have benefitted from editing it down to make it slightly shorter, as the plot did drag a little in places, such as when Reiko went her own way after the trip to Niigata. There was also the odd passage where the names seemed to be mixed up, which is bound to happen when you have two characters with similar-sounding names; it was often hard to keep the two characters distinct in my mind, especially as they share many scenes together. However, overall, I really enjoyed the story and the prose, and would likely revisit this in the future.

I’m going to give this book 3.5 stars because even though I was so ready to DNF this book at 17%, I think it’s still brilliant, but it’s not what I was expecting or what I am really into reading at the moment. So I went into this thinking it would be a fast paced, plot-driven feminist thriller that had me hooked from page 1, which unfortunately was not the case. This book is absolutely a character study to its core, with mountains of description of everything in this book, from food to past experiences. This meant that it was very slow paced and I often found myself pushing myself to read on, but at the same time, I just had to know how it ended. However this is a book that analyses femininity in Japan, women’s rights and the constant discourse around women’s bodies, which is something I really did enjoy. Overall, I do think this is a fantastic book and there is a lot to be said about, it just wasn’t totally for me as a lover of plot driven books over character studies. I think a lot of people will love this book and I can’t wait to see what people think.

At its essence, the book unravels as a mesmerizing tale, intricately weaving the realms of food, pleasure, and obsession. It fearlessly explores the unsettling facets of misogyny, obsession, romance, and the unconventional pleasures embedded in Japan's culinary tapestry. Rooted in true events, particularly the haunting serial murders in the Tokyo metropolitan area, the book transcends its gastronomic allure. It evolves into a poignant examination of societal challenges, addressing themes like lookism, self-esteem, and the intricate struggles confronted by working women. As guided by the skilled hands of Asako Yuzuki, the protagonist, the story transforms into an immersive journey. Yuzuki's narrative finesse seamlessly melds the delights of the palate with a profound exploration of the intricate complexities inherent in the human experience.
It's important to highlight the outstanding work of Polly Barton, the translator, who consistently delivers excellence in her craft.

Butter is the first novel, of several award-winners by Japanese author, Asako Yuzuki to be translated into English by Polly Barton. After many frustratingly unsuccessful attempts to visit convicted serial killer, Manako Kajii in the Tokyo Detention House, a suggestion from a good friend finally gains Shumei Weekly journalist, Rika Machida, access to this enigmatic woman.

Kajii gained notoriety when, over a period of six months in 2013, three of the wealthy men she found via an online dating service, on whom she lavished attention with gourmet meals, and who handed over large sums of cash, or funded lessons at the exclusive all-women cooking school, Le Salon de Myuko, all died, apparently by suicide or accident.

Kajii was convicted after a misogyny-tinged trial that seemed to ignore alibis and evidence, and two years on, is awaiting retrial. It felt to Rika that Kajii was tried for her appearance (not young, not beautiful, too fat) and her attitude to men, wanting “‘a mature man, with the capacity for both emotional and financial generosity”, and attacking her concept of chastity. “A woman who didn’t hide the fact that she used her sexuality as a weapon was met with such fierce scorn, and even a kind of terror.”

Rika’s clever request for the recipe that Kajii fed her last victim results in conditional approval for a visit: nothing at all about her trial or conviction may be discussed. Instead, Rika comes away with a recommendation for a very simple dish that requires top quality butter, a commodity currently scarce due to the widespread occurrence of mastitis in cows. She’s still hopeful that at a later visit she may be permitted an interview.

Meanwhile, Rika, with “taste buds are like a child’s. I’m perfectly happy with convenience store bento boxes and curry from cheap restaurants” tries the recipe and is hooked. “Soon enough, just as Kajii had said, the melted butter began to surge through the individual grains of rice. It was a taste that could only be described as golden. A shining golden wave, with an astounding depth of flavour and a faint yet full and rounded aroma, wrapped itself around the rice and washed Rika’s body far away.” Eventual further visits net recommendations for other dishes, and eating establishments to try.

Rika wonders if “To make something yourself that you wanted to eat and eat it the way you wanted – was that the very essence of gratification?” But her best friend, Reiko Sayana observes that Rika seems to be in thrall to Kajii: “You don’t try to see anything she hasn’t shown you”, and Rika admits to herself that she has doubts about Kajii’s guilt, although thinking that her victims displayed “the excessive self-pity felt by lonely men” feels a lot like victim-blaming. Was she losing her powers of judgement?

Some of Kajii’s opinions, though, seem valid: “Japanese women are required to be self-denying, hard-working and ascetic, and in the same breath, to be feminine, soft and caring towards men. Everyone finds that an impossible balance to strike, and they struggle desperately as a result.” But Kajii disabuses Rika of the notion they might become friends: “I don’t want friends. I don’t need friends. I’m only interested in having worshippers.’

Reiko is fascinated with her interactions with Kajii, while continuing to express her concerns over Rika’s mental and physical health, which does give her pause, but Rika is unaware of what her best friend is up to behind the scenes. Will Rika get her exclusive interview? Will the true fate of those men be revealed?

Yuzuki’s tale takes several unexpected turns over the twelve months leading up to, and beyond Kajii’s retrial, and examines the status of women in Japan, and the expectations to which they are subject. Her varied cast of support characters includes a childless housewife, a boyfriend with a girl-band fetish, an industrious mother, opinionated colleagues, a well-known older editor who mentors, and a dairy farmer. Not one of the significant characters has a conventional loving childhood and youth: each is carrying emotional baggage, grief or guilt, creating problems in their relationships, be they romantic or filial.

The only thing missing from this intriguing story is a few detailed recipes: as they consume it, readers will be hungry; those familiar with Japanese cuisine won’t be the only ones salivating. An interesting and entertaining read.
This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by NetGalley and 4th Estate

"Butter" by Asako Yuzuki is a fascinating read. Translated into English from Japanese, I think the translator did a good job. If you like food and crime as much as I do then this book is for you. Perhaps a longer read than I was expecting (most Japanese books I've read have been fairly short) but I really got into the descriptions of butter and the recipes that were being tested throughout the book. I liked the way that Rika gained confidence throughout the book and this was reflected in her cooking and her friendship circle and how she interacted with them.

Wow!
I never thought that I would be giving positive feedback to a book called Butter, which has recipes of how butter enhances your food, running throughout the book.
This book, however, is not just a recipe book, although the recipes and their results are an essential part of the plot.
This book is a psychological thriller that works on lots of levels, each interdependent on the other.
The book contains insights into a different type of life in Japan to any that I have read in other books.
I loved every aspect of it, the happy parts, the sad parts, and all of the linking bits.
I don't know how the author is going to follow up this book, but I would love to find out.
This book is worth reading whatever you favourite genre of book is, it has a bit of most things.
Fantastic!
My thanks to the author for the hours of enjoyment that the book has brought me, I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

“I was so determined not to be a burden on the people around me. But it turned out that I wasn’t superhuman.”

Out 29/2/24

Thank you @netgalley and @4thestatebooks for the opportunity to read this eARC.

Rika Machida is a journalist in a male dominated office, working long hours and feeling the pressure of succeeding as a woman and conforming with Japanese society’s views on women. Then she starts covering the case of Kajii, a gourmet cook accused of killing several men after she drained them of their money. Rika’s life starts to change dramatically and she starts to see that there’s more to life than work the more time she spends interviewing Kajii.

Whether you like Japanese food or not, this book will make you hungry, the descriptions of food throughout the book were superb. Most of the characters are unlikable at the beginning but by the end you can’t help but love them a little. Although it felt long at times, the second half really sped up with some twist in the plot and I wasn’t expecting it to be that sort of narrative so it took me by surprise in a good way.

At the core of this story is a discussion on (Japanese) society’s expectation on women. How to succeed in a work environment you have to act and look a certain way. Right at the beginning our main character stops to change her look to meet someone because that way she’s more likely to be taken seriously and that is a re occurring discussion throughout. We see how the media portrays the murderer as a vile “fat” woman because she doesn’t take as much care of her appearance as it’s expected. As Reiko gets more and more involved with Kajii we see her question these unspoken rules and start to break out of the mild she’s been in.

There’s also some talk on the pressures of marriage and having a family which is something I’ve seen a lot in Japanese and Korean literature.

Overall this was an interesting read, a bit long at times but not so much that it put me off. What I will say, there should be massive trigger warnings about talk of body weight!

“How much comfort the thoughtfulness and home-made food of another person could bring to a tired body and dried-up heart.”

The case of Manako Kajii had intrigued Rika ever since her arrest, accused of killing three men whom she met through a dating service and extorted money from. Kajii has refused to speak to the press about her case, but when Rika writes and asks her for the recipe of the beef stew she made for one of the victims the night before he died, she discovers that Kajii is only too willing to talk about food. And Rika, heading towards becoming the first woman on the editorial desk of the magazine she writes for, seizes the opportunity, but before too long she too begins to fall upon Kajii's spell...

Butter is a story that defies easy categorisation, but I would describe it as a character study of Kajii and Rika. As Rika sets out to find out who Kajii really is, behind the sensationalism and misogyny of the media coverage thus far, she inadvertently ends up discovering more about herself, and the life she really wants as opposed to the life she thinks she should want. This is a story that is not just set in Japan, but is steeped in Japanese culture and customs, in ways that make it a fresh and interesting story for this British reader, but also a slightly bemusing one. The Japan that Asako Yuzuki depicts sets higher expectations for women than for men, and is especially exacting about the size that women should be, seeing weight gain as a sign of laziness. As a result, Butter uses both its premise and its gastronomic focus to explore the misogyny and social transgressions of its setting. Yet, for a reader who isn't familiar with this culture, the characters and their concerns were not always easy to understand.

I enjoyed and appreciated much of what Butter has to say, but I did find the pace a little slow at times, and the length of the book a little unnecessary. I think maybe the way it has been marketed as a book about murder is slightly misleading, as I didn't find it particularly dark or overly interested in the murder case at its heart. I do think it is an interesting story, and I found the portrayal of Japanese culture particularly thought-provoking, but I have to admit that if I wasn't reviewing this one, I would likely not have finished it.

I found Butter to be incredibly immersive and easy to get excited by - and more daring than many of the Japanese novels I have read over the years, in its depiction of women, sex, feminism, domestic life. We follow Rika, a journalist who decides to investigate Manako Kaji, currently in prison for the murder of three men, who is awaiting a retrial.

Rika becomes so fascinated and obsessed by Kaji, an ordinary-looking woman, that she throws herself completely in her life. She manages to visit Kaji in prison, and follows the instructions Kaji gives her: she'll reveal it all if only Rika goes and tries proper butter, she'll give an interview if Rika tries buttery ramen eaten after sex, she'll share more secrets if Rika visits that restaurant... There's a lot of social commentary about women and the pressure to be a good domestic wife, which we see in the comment of people who can only think Kaji seduced men with her cooking, since being overweight it cannot be her looks, and which is also reflected in Reiko, Rika's repressed friend who gave up her successful job to stay at home, clean all day, cook for her husband and try for a baby.

The story of Kaji and the crimes she committed remains somewhat unclear at the end, I was not completely sure I understood them when I finished the book, but I found the chapters focussed on Rika and her discovery of cooking and her thoughts about women really intesting to follow. There are, as expected, many descriptions of food and cooking, so much that it could have become tedious but I found them really well-written and appetizing. There's a lot about women, sexuality, body image and fitting in which I don't see written so explicitely very often in Japanese literature.

This was a lovely surprise and a book that is easy to throw oneself into for several hours - I definitely recommend it to anyone interested in something different and something that felt both profund and weirdly joyful. It is also well-written and the translation by Polly Barton reads

Butter is a novel about food and women in Japan, as a journalist tries to uncover the secrets of a gourmet cook who seemingly killed three men. Rika is a journalist who lives off instant noodles and convenience store food, focused on her work and getting tips from a connection she has, whilst keeping in touch with her old friend who is trying to build her life as a housewife. Meanwhile, Manako Kajii sits in Tokyo Detention Centre, refusing to talk to journalists, until Rika tries asking her for a recipe. Suddenly, Rika has a way to catch Kajii's attention, and her gastronomical life is changed by Kajii's instructions, but soon Rika and Kajii are caught in a strange game of fascination and food.

Told almost entirely from Rika's point of view, this novel could just be a generic crime story about a journalist uncovering the truth, but actually, it is far more focused on food, society, and women's roles within both, considering desire in terms of food and sexuality and exploring different kinds of relationships between people. For a book that is seemingly a crime novel, it has a slow, languishing plot, and is packed full of description, particularly of food and cooking, and it really does capture the titular butter and its impact on both protagonists' lives through this. It also critiques Japanese society's beauty standards and ideas about what makes a woman successful, in a way that is quite obvious, but as we've seen from things like the Barbie film, still a message that resonates with a lot of people.

Some of the subtler elements and points were more fascinating, like Rika's own past and feelings of guilt around her father's death, her best friend's complex relationship to being a wife and looking to have a child, and generally the way that the wider cast of characters interact with each other and what they feel like they can do. There's an undercurrent of female desire, and particularly queer female desire, that sits at odds with the images of heterosexual romance that characters want to perform, and though these elements are small, it's interesting how they are hinted at. Another part that isn't really addressed, but is running underneath the novel is ideas of Japanese and Western cuisine—particularly French cookery—and how these may or may not sit nicely alongside one another in modern Japan. Maybe these parts could be more overt, but I like how a novel that is quite big and obvious in its main points can also have these subtleties.

This is a novel that makes you hungry. People looking for something similar to other popular translated Japanese authors like Sayaka Murata may be disappointed, as it is far less transgressive than something like Earthlings, but instead it is a slowly simmering novel about people finding different places for themselves in Japanese society whilst also talking a lot about feminism and food.

Probably the most intense book I’ve read. Between the culture, the food and the crime this is an unputdownable feast for any fan of immersive thrills.