This is an incredibly strange and bizarre book. However, if you are able to suspend rationality and disbelief, it is a fascinating exploration of language, communication, human interaction, identity and belonging. With all of the vibrant cast of characters having difficulties in some way of communicating their identity, their needs, their desires or understanding those around them, the reader gains an insight into the centrality of language in human communication as well as its limitations.

The second book in a proposed trilogy, and whilst 'Scattered All Over the Earth' intrigued me, this one I'm afraid bored me. I love Yoko Tawada as a writer, but the shifting narrative perspective of each chapter just didn't work for me. In fact it got annoying. Very little happens, even as the various central characters have made or are making their way to meet up in Copenhagen. And then they decide that they need to move on, so presumably the final book will culminate in whether we find the lost nation or not.

There are concerns about some of the aspects of the book: the descriptions of a trans character and various national stereotypes, long discussions of not very interesting things, and the shifting POV. Will I read the 3rd book? Well, I've got this far so yes I will, but this one was disappointing, I'm sorry to say.

‘Suggested in the Stars’ is the second book in Yoko Tawada’s trilogy that began with ‘Scattered All Over the Earth’. The series is set in a vaguely dystopian future where Japan has not only disappeared but also been forgotten. The novel follows the same group of people from the first book, who function as a loose found family, as they find themselves travelling to and residing in a hospital in Copenhagen where they meet the self-centred Dr Velmar, an expert on aphasia.

I really did not get on with this book. Similar, to the first book, Tawada gives us a lot of discussion on linguistics, language, and culture. I didn’t feel as though this second instalment was necessary or added anything new to the conversation. The characters are not only unlikable in an uninteresting way but also seem flat. The pacing is tedious, and the plot lacks a driving focus.

We also get a repeat of some of the problematic issues in the first book. The trans character Akash is misgendered constantly and the use of the term Eskimo seems bizarre and outdated.

A disappointing read and I will not be picking up the last book in the trilogy.

There isn’t really a plot to this novel. Each character narrates a chapter in which they either 1) are in a Copenhagen hospital or 2) are travelling to get to said hospital. I skimmed a lot of this as nothing was happening and didn’t relate to any of the characters. I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

Second instalment in the trilogy starting with Scattered All Over the Earth. It’s another episodic piece, each section presented from a specific character perspective. As before, it plays out in a dystopian world which does/doesn’t match our own. The primary setting’s a large Copenhagen hospital bearing an uncanny resemblance to the one found in Lars von Trier’s miniseries The Kingdom. Like von Trier’s, this hospital’s an eerie space where reality and rationality are undermined by a series of surreal, increasingly-absurd events. Yōko Tawada also “borrows” two of von Trier’s characters, his duo of hospital dishwashers. Performed by actors with Down Syndrome, the nameless pair formed a kind of Greek chorus, somehow privy to the hospital’s most sinister secrets. In Tawada’s novel these become Vita – after the actress in von Trier’s show – and Munun. Munun’s a seer of sorts who taps into the Japanese mythology referenced throughout.

Munun’s also Tsukuyomi – as in Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto - in Japanese legend the moon god strongly associated with manipulating time. This then connects Munun to the silent Susanoo, a hospital patient who’s attracted the attention of specialist Dr Velmar. Susanoo, we learn, is a manifestation of Susanoo-no-Mikoto god of turbulence, linked to sea and storms, and Tsukuyomi’s sibling. The novel’s mythological undercurrents and what they signify is complicated by numerous nods to Nordic myth, echoed in snake imagery that crops up at various points. New characters are joined by familiar ones: Hiruko, whose quest for someone who shares her “mother tongue” ties the somewhat-slender plot together, and companions Knut, Akash, Nanook, Nanook’s former partner Nora. All of whom eventually reunite in Copenhagen.

The action shifts between the hospital and the journeys taken by the original characters to reach it. Although ‘action’ should be taken loosely here, much of the novel’s quite static, claustrophobic even, centred on characters’ inner thoughts and feelings. Tawada’s key themes hark back to the first book: issues of language and identity interconnect and overlap with concerns around misogyny, climate change, and the crossing of literal and metaphorical borders. It’s an ambitious piece, sometimes too ambitious, occasionally so dense it was hard to unpick: people swap personalities; Nanook undertakes a dubious but oddly tangential mission in exchange for a train ticket; Nora retreats into memories of her shattered life after Knut’s birth; direct references to von Trier suggest this may be a series of onscreen performances in which everyone’s been assigned a fixed role. And it’s never clear whether the novel’s various ambiguities relate to its position between beginning and end of the trilogy – all might be revealed or at least become less cloudy in the final book – or something else entirely. Although I think comparisons to acting and film are partly intended to conjure notions of individuals locked into position by the people around them, forced to act in accordance with the expectations of their peers or their wider culture. An oblique commentary on homogeneity that feeds into Tawada’s ongoing critique of nationalism and accompanying desires for monolingual society.

Elements of the narrative made me uncertain to the point of discomfort, mostly arising from the portrayal of particular characters. Akash is introduced in the first book as a transwoman yet equally as someone who hasn’t fully assumed that identity - in the process of “becoming” as opposed to “being.” What that actually means isn’t fully addressed but “becoming” versus “being” does seem to be one of Tawada’s major preoccupations. Akash’s portrayal further complicated by the use of almost-exclusively masculine pronouns to describe them – possibly signalling denial or lack of knowledge of gender identity by others? Here, Akash appears to be genderfluid: Knut and, later, Manun reflect on whether to refer to Akash as ‘he’ or ‘she’ because of their shifting gender presentation – asking Akash doesn’t occur to either of them! But even though Akash’s now depicted as closer to genderfluid in terms of how they understand their gender, the default pronoun for Akash remains resolutely masculine. I wondered if this grating disconnect might stem from translation decisions rather than Tawada’s – I could see that translating this might pose challenges because of the intricacies of the figuring of gender in Japanese. But it’s possible too these are deliberate authorial choices, somehow rooted in the frameworks of this imagined, dystopian world - which doesn’t map onto contemporary reality in any systematic sense. Whatever the reasons behind these choices, I found the confusion unsettling – this is novel that’s crying out for a translator’s afterword.

Another stumbling-block was the representation of Munun, and by association Vita. The rest of the hospital staff seem unwilling or unable to understand Munun and Vita when they speak. So, Munun and Vita construct their own language but the form, the vocabulary, of this language seemed a bit infantilising – at least to me. Moreover, as in von Trier’s story, Munun has semi-supernatural powers here explained by his status as part Japanese deity. But Manun’s apparent ‘gifts’ reminded me of an array of stigmatising false beliefs about ‘magical abilities’ surrounding people with disabilities and/or conditions like Down Syndrome. Although, to be fair to Tawada, her story does emphasize Munun’s individuality and agency. Other stereotypes turn up elsewhere in the novel – assumptions about India for example – but I interpreted these as semi-satirical digs at nationalism and ‘othering.’ Overall, I’m quite conflicted about this. It could be provocative in positive ways, there were numerous arresting passages, and instances of inventive imagery. And I appreciated the explicit, and implied, critique of strident nationalism, as well as Tawada’s sophisticated musings on language use, boundaries and borders. Translated by Margaret Mitsutani.

Rating: 2.5

#suggestedinthestars by #yokotawada, thank you to @netgalley and @grantabooks for this #arc

This is the book 2 of a 3 book series, with various characters trying to help a formal Japanese native find other people from 'the land of sushi' that appears to have now disappeared in a dystopian future.

The first book built the characters and I guess the direction of the story which was brilliant, with a real focus on language, sound, words and everything in between.

Book 2 is the journey of the characters to find the person they have been made aware of in book one. A large chuck of the book is made up of the travel for want of a better word, with maybe 1/3 focusing on the characters together again. I won't say too much and spoil it for anyone.

I enjoyed this book too, maybe a little less than the first one as it was so original and had the wow factor. This felt a little like a transition book to the final book of the series, but equally I don't feel it set us up fully but we are on our way.

You will love the characters, they are all so different and their relationship with language is really apparent and interesting.

If you want something very original, definitely give these books your attention. I would maybe read both books together as there is so much to digest (in a good way).

#honnomushi100 #reading #japanesefiction #translatedfiction #translatedjapaneseliterature #booksfromjapan #booklover #bookstagram #translatedgems #japaneseauthor #translatedjapaneseliterature #japaneselit #JAPANESEAUTHORS #newjapanesefiction #newbooks2024

"It's hard to believe there could be a more enjoyable novel than Scattered All Over the Earth - Yoko Tawada's rollicking, touching, cheerfully dystopian novel about friendship and climate change - but surprising her readers is what Tawada does best: its sequel, Suggested in the Stars, delivers exploits even more poignant and shambolic.

As Hiruko - whose Land of Sushi has vanished into the sea and who is still searching for someone who speaks her mother tongue - and her new friends travel onward, they begin opening up to one another in new and extraordinary ways. They try to help their friend Susanoo regain his voice, both for his own good and so he can speak with Hiruko - and amid many often hilarious misunderstandings (some linguistic in nature) - they empower each other against despair. Coping with carbon footprint worries but looping singly and in pairs, they hitchhike, take late-night motorcycle rides, and hop on the train (learning about railway strikes but also packed-train-yoga) to convene in Copenhagen. There they find Susanoo in a strange hospital working with a scary speech-loss doctor. In the half-basement of this weird medical center (with strong echoes of Lars von Trier's 1990s TV series The Kingdom), they also find two special kids washing dishes. They discover magic radios, personality swaps, ship tickets delivered by a robot, and other gifts. But friendship - loaning one another the nerve and heart to keep going - sets them all (and the reader) to dreaming of something more...Suggested in the Stars delivers new delights, and Yoko Tawada's famed new trilogy will conclude in 2025 with Archipelago of the Sun, even if nobody will ever want this "strange, exquisite" (The New Yorker) trip to end."

Yeah, it is heard to believe someone found the first book enjoyable because it was literally one of the worst books I've ever read brimming with racism and trans hate.

Horrible characters and confusing story. I couldn’t finish this book. I wasn’t sure if this was meant to be satire

I have a complicated relationship with Yoko Tawada's writing. The Last Children of Tokyo captured the existential anxieties of ageing Japanese society, but the premise was more interesting than the execution. I found that novel a bit boring and lacking nuance, although it did have quiet dignity to it. Scattered All Over the Earth was problematic, uninventive and ultimately rather pointless, a rare square one start book for me. If I had known that Suggested in the Stars is a direct sequel to it, I would not have requested it. I was fully prepared to DNF it halfway through, as the most problematic aspects of its predecessor, especially the treatment of the novel's trans characters, are still there. However, something kept me going, and at the end of the day it surprised me by being not as abysmally bad as I had expected.

To get the worst out of the way - Akash, the trans character, is still routinely misgendered by all her (their?) friends who keep calling her 'a man in woman's clothing' and refer to her/them as he (the author also routinely mixes up transwomen and Khwaja Sara, using a potentially derogatory term to refer to the latter community). I detest it when cis authors use trans characters as their playthings. Tawada nominally addresses the issue in the Knut chapter, but at the end of the day she never says anything trans writers have not said a million times better. The treatment of this character gives Scarlett Johannsson saying she is an actress, she can play a tree if needed. Akash's own POV chapter adds nothing on their experience of their gender, although it does bring up the not so subtle ways in which they are racialised. However, the author still uses lots of stereotypes of Indians as easy-going, always a part of a wide social network etc to characterise Akash without going any deeper into their own character and personality, so the on the nose comments about their racialisation sort of lose their potency. What was the point in making this character trans?

My other problem with this novel is that all the characters (apart from Akash) come across as horrible people. Some, like Doctor Velmar, are intended to be, whereas others are meant to be the heroes of the story whose adventures we follow. They are an entitled bunch of mostly white people (Nora and Knut are the worst offenders) who say all the right things but do not do any of the right things. What is the point in being a Marxist or criticising colonialism if you still misgender your trans friend or mix up India and Pakistan? Okay, it is meant to be satire, but what is the satire punching at here? Lashing out at everything and everyone? Needless to say, most characters spew some horrendously offensive things, Dr Velmer being the worst. I was not sure why we needed to spend that much time in the mind of this awful racist person only for him to simply join the main gang without any sort of epiphany, redemption or, much better still, comeuppance.

Some things are handled better than they were in the first novel. We get fewer boring discussions of language and linguistics written with the nuance of social media posts. One of the things that helps with that the narrative is less focused on Hiruko, whose POV chapter is one of the last. It does mean that there is less focus in the novel overall - we get to see random personality studies of the POV characters, often barely relevant to the nominal main story. I enjoyed some of those chapters on their own right. Knut's mother's chapter is a standout in an otherwise disappointing reading experience.

The book tries to be an absurdist novel, but it is not nearly weird and random enough for that (see some of Helen Oyeyemi's writing if you enjoy good absurdism). The structure doesn't quite work as every character bar one gets only one POV chapter, so we never revisit the characters and their inner journeys. The lacklustre build-up means that the Susanoo chapter at the end, in which the titular character tries to manipulate everybody we met so far, doesn't stick the landing. Boring discussions reminiscent of the worst aspects of the first novel are backlogged, so the last couple of chapters are a slog to get through.

An improvement on the first novel, so 1.5 stars?

Thank you to Netgalley and Granta Books for an e-ARC in exchange for an honest review.

I really enjoyed the concept of this book, with the search for homeland and language being fascinating. However, for me the characters and storyline fell a little flat for me. Additionally, the inclusion of trans character only to refer to them as opposite to the gender they identify as did not sit right with me. This could be a part of the conversation of language in the book however it didn’t land in my opinion.

It did have a slow start but I did enjoy the writing style, it felt very introspective and dreamy.

can usually average a book a day but it’s taken me almost two days to get 40% of the way through so I’m calling ToD and DNFing. Perhaps it will land differently with readers who read the first in the series, but I didn’t enjoy this.

Why I stopped reading:

Problematic language:
👎 Why on earth is a transgender character that identifies as female referred to as “he” in the character list?
👎 Uncomfortable racism in the Velmer chapter when he’s grilling the friend group on their nationalities.
👎 The sexist and misogynist way that Velmer talks about Inga and Nanook notices Bellona
👎 I’ve worked with individuals with aphasia before and the portrayal in this book feels at best insensitive and at worst mocking
👎 As a Canadian reader, the word “Eskimo” is derogatory. There’s a reference in the character list saying this word choice is explained in the first book; but, I’ve not read the first book and was shocked to see this. Perhaps it would benefit from an explanation? Or a more conscious term for this human be used?

Writing style:
👎 Right off the bat, we’ve got a very slow chapter where we have more descriptions of food smeared on plates than story. I found I really struggled with the dialogue style between Munun and Vita. Similar to my observations about problematic language, I’m not entirely sure what the author was trying to achieve with these two characters but it feels almost mocking.
👎 The writing style itself feels like it’s going for dreamy but it’s landing more self-important, overwrought, and navel-gazey

Story and Characters:
👎 The characters don’t feel fleshed out, real, or interesting to me as a reader
👎 This book was advertised as a dystopia but 40% of the way in and it’s just the internal monologues as each individual travels to a clinic. It’s not holding my interest.

I didn’t realize when I requested this that I’d abandoned one of the author’s earlier works for similar reasons. This author is definitely not for me.

I was privileged to have my request to read this book accepted through NetGalley. Thank you, Granta Publications.

Proceeding from where the first book left of in the series, Hiruko looks for someone who speaks her mother tongue.
The group of friends try to help each other and encounter strange phenomenon.

I am a bit torn about this one.
First of all, I am theorising that any obnoxious and offensive remarks, behaviours, mindsets, attitudes by/of any character is not written as an insult, but rather as part of the satire. I am hoping this is the case.

Secondly, I generally like Tawada’s writing style and some of the characters in this series.

Plot 3.5
Characterisation 3.5
Concept 4
Themes 3.5
Prose 3.5