Hunchback is such a breath of fresh air. I almost always enjoy Japanese fiction due to its frank, unadorned style, and this one was no different. It stood out in its unflinching portrayal of a disabled woman's life and sexuality. The sex scenes were truly something to behold - very discomfiting, but then you had to ask yourself - why am I uncomfortable, because of the situation that seems deeply questionable on an emotional and moral level, or do I belong to the swathes of people who de-sexualise disabled people and have biases about disabled sexuality? To be honest, in my case I think I'm just uncomfortable with straight sex in general (I feel the same reading Sally Rooney, and I'm asexual myself), but it's an interesting topic to ponder and self-reflect on.

Hunchback offers a peek into the desires and uninhibited wants of a woman overlooked through the lens of se*uality due to her disability. While it is short, Saou has very cleverly used the book to share social commentary on not only the way disability is perceived in Japan, i.e. it doesn’t exist but to also offer insight into human nature. What is it that we truly want when there are no eyes on us? When society expects nothing from us? And wants nothing to do with us?

This was a read-in-one-setting with a satisfying plot twist. If you’re looking for something short in between longer reads, Hunchback could be the one.

Thank you to Net Galley and the publisher for access to this e-arc.
This review will cover both the e reader edition and the audio from audible as I ended up reading this on publication day. This was a wild ride and not for the feint of heart. It's a strong and impactful story written from the pov of a disabled woman. As someone who has a "invisible" disability I connected with the struggle that I have that are in common, but also had the opportunity to look through a different experience's eyes. If you choose to read this you will go through the full spectrum of emotions and feelings... and come out the other side feeling like you understand humanity better than you did before. I will be thinking about the ramifications of this book for a long time to come. The thought vortex's I got swept up in during include, ways we look for an outlet for our thoughts when we don't have a safe space to share; The ways disability change the way people and society view your abilities, wants and desires. The ways you can be taken advantage of but also the ways you can take advantage of others. What's the difference between being taken advantage of and choosing to sacrifice our rights in order to experience something we are not expected to want. Human desire within a restricted life experience. This was beautifully written and is surprisingly a debut... it did not read like a debut!
I think this will suit readers who look for fiction that makes them think about the world we live in and find value in the proverbial "walking a day in someone else's shoes". and readers that look for fiction that will challenge them.

"Here was I, feeling my spine being crushed a little more with every book that I read, while all those e-bookhating able-bodied people who went on and on about how they loved the smell of physical books, or the feel of the turning pages beneath their fingers, persisted in their state of happy oblivion."

This was an odd book, one that stayed with me and made me think about it long after I had finished it. The premise was what immediately intrigued me but I will say this book is more of a stream of consciousness than an exploration of the plottiness of its premise. The narrator holds you by the scruff of the neck from the first to the final page, making it an unsettling but powerful read. This style of writing is not my preference, as I would have liked more focus on the plot and consequences of actions and sometimes it felt hard to keep up with where it was going. I had questions at the end but I fully acknowledge that this is a stylistic issue based on personal preference.

I'm glad I read it, though I am not entirely sure how I feel regarding some of its content.

An arresting novella that blurs the line between fiction and auto fiction! This is an intense exploration of desire while being differently abled, nominated for the International Booker Prize and so well deserved!

We follow Shaka, a woman born with myotubular myopathy - a disorder that severely impairs her mobility and makes day to day tasks incredibly challenging and means that she lives in a full time care home. Within the four walls of her room, Shaka dreams of things she would do if she were a "normal woman", tweets provocatively, and posts wildly erotic fiction online - anonymously of course. That is until one day, her secret is uncovered but with this exposure comes a salacious idea, can she finally experience all that she has been dreaming of?

This was such a refreshing book. I thoroughly enjoyed the author's narrative style and THE ENDING!!!! I definitely want to read more from this author.

If you're reading this review (check content warnings and be warned that this may make you uncomfortable at times) I couldn't recommend this more!

Thank you to the publishers and NetGalley for providing me with an eARC.

Well done to Ichikawa for the way she gets ger message across: in-your-face so you can't look away. She describes in detail what it means to live with a severe handicap (the main character has myotubular myopathy meaning that underdeveloped muscles prevented heart and lungs from maintaining gooe oxygen saturation), and does not shy away from everything this implies (from something as simple as reading a physical book to the practical difficulties of changing equipment to something as exhausting as sex).

It is a bit extreme and graphic in places and may be a bit too much for some readers. At times I found myself preferring to take a break, but the objective is clear and convincing: more attention is needed for the plight of the disabled. Ichikawa is very critical of Japan, but surely it applies to most countries.

I am in need of an explanation of the ending though...

Longlisted for the 2025 International Booker Prize

It is translated from the Japanese “Hanchibakku” (the author’s debut novel) by Polly Barton.

A novella (short even by the standard of this longlist, with less than 100 generously spaced, large typeface pages) – but one which while it may be very short in length but is long in defiance in its deliberate defiance of ableism in publishing, sexuality and wider society.

It opens provocatively with five pages of quickly dashed off soft-porn – but when we switch to its author (our first person narrator) – our orientation and understanding is immediately challenged when we read “While I’d been concentrating on getting to the end of the article, mucus had built up in my windpipe, and the alarm on my Trilogy ventilator was chirruping furiously”.

The author has said that the book is 30% autobiographical, 70% fictional – the autobiographical part reflecting that she and the book’s first party protagonist Shaka (the Japanese name for Buddha) Izawa both have congenital myotubular myopathy – a genetic disorder causing muscle weakness and leading to difficulties with general mobility, sustaining body posture and breathing (including the clearing of mucus) and which has lead both to have relied on a respirator since they were teenagers.

Shaka we quickly establish lives in a care home which her parents own (she is from a financially privileged background, although that does little to ease her physical inheritance).

As well as her posting of stories to a website – more for something to do than money she does not need – she also enjoys composing (and sometimes after reflection) posting provocative tweets about her condition.

One of these has her speculating on her ultimate dream of getting pregnant “like a normal woman” and then having an abortion given she could not carry a baby (and then ruminating on how abortion law had first lead to a conflict between women’s rights and disabled rights groups, before they came together)

And in terms of the confrontation of ableism, and as well as its clear aim at the disability-discriminatory aspect of Japanese society (frequently contrasted by her with other countries) the character reserves her particular ire (and I believe shares the author’s views) on the (Japanese) publishing industry and at readers complacent in their privilege:

To say too much more about the book would not be appropriate given its length, but when a male carer turns out to be effectively stalking her erotic stories and she-had-assumed-anonymous tweets, he offers to help with her wish which leads to as uncomfortable a scene as I have read in a prize winning and prize listed book.

Uncompromising, unsettling but unforgettable.

Wow this was such an utterly unique story that I was just captivated by. Shaka resides in an assisted living facility due to a debilitating condition. She publishes erotica online & anonymously tweets outrageous shit on a daily basis.

This was so impactful & confronting which is impressive considering it’s just over 100 pages. The author talks about disability & desire and how they are interlinked for this character in the most remarkable way. Yes it’s uncomfortable! But that’s so clearly the point it doesn’t even seem worth saying.

Recommend!!

Hunchback is a short novel featuring Shaka, a Japanese disabled woman in her forties, living in a care home and secretly writing erotic fiction. Shaka has an unusual position in the care home as, due to her rich parents, she actually owns the facility.

The novel is an interesting look at disabled people's place in society, and how others treat their agency and sexuality. I enjoyed it, although it made me quite uncomfortable at times.

Hunchback is small, but mighty. The narrative is both humorous and tragic, bringing the reader on a rollercoaster of emotions. Ichikawa writes with sincerity, forcing the reader to reflect, especially as an able-bodied woman. The themes of sexuality and womanhood are conveyed in a new, eye opening light and forced me to consider many aspects of life as an able-bodied woman that I take for granted. It’s dark humour is centred around an informative narrative, shedding light on the ableism in Japanese society.

The ending came as a complete shock to me and for such a short novel I was completely hooked.

‘to live, my body breaks’ p.51

For a book that’s shorter than 100 pages this packs a punch. Beginning and ending with stories somewhat separate to the main bulk of the book, this felt like a coin being flipped. Looking at disability and desire whilst also highlighting the ableist nature of the everyday, particularly in Japan.

‘Able-bodied Japanese people have likely never even imagined a hunchbacked monster struggling to read a physical book.’ p.37

Thank you to NetGalley of the English Translated ARC. I have a feeling I’ll be thinking about this book a lot longer than it took me to read it.

Hunchback by Sou Ichikawa, translated by Polly Barton is a fascinating look at the life of a disabled woman in contemporary Japan. Very frank with a dark sense of humor. I hope more contemporary literature like this gets translated.

I loved the humour and what this has to say about bodily autonomy. Our MC spends the book fighting for this in her own ways, and making humorous observations about her life as a disabled woman in a care home.

I just wanted it to be longer, so we could spend more time with the MC and the characters in the care home. It would have been good to explore the themes with more detail.

Particularly shocking in many respects, this meta-novel is read in one go and then maybe even reread, trying to figure out where we got into the Möbius strip. If you figure it out, let me know.

Particolarmente scioccante da molti punti di vista, questo metaromanzo si legge tutto d'un fiato e poi magari si rilegge pure, per cercare di capire dove siamo entrati nel nastro di Möbius. Se lo capite fatemelo sapere.

I received from the Publisher a complimentary digital advanced review copy of the book in exchange for a honest review.

A short thought provoking and provocative book that thematically challenges viewers perspectives and beliefs on agency as a woman and disabled individual, power and privilege, sexuality and desire.

The main character Shaka lives in a group care home and offers insight and a lens of how disability is experienced and viewed by others within Japanese society or rather how they are pushed to the sidelines and largely ignored. The twist in the tale at the end really challenges the notion of privilege and disadvantage where the lines between exploitation and transaction become shades of grey.

Impressed and hoping Ichikawa plans to write more. I would say if you found Earthlings by Murata to be thought-provoking this is another for you.

Thank you netgalley & penguin general uk for the e-ARC.

Often when I read Japanese (translated) literature, I come away with a general feeling of detachment. This was anything but.

Confrontational and unsettling, Saou Ichikawa explores the complex stigma around disability and sexuality. With a provocative narrative you are forced to see Shaka as so much more than the label of disabled.

It's an uncomfortable read, purposely so, but it's definitely one that I won't forget.

A provocative read about a wealthy young woman with a muscular condition who resides in sheltered living and spends a lot of her time writing erotic fiction and partially pseudo-journalistic articles about swinging clubs and similar venues. She is blackmailed by a member of staff at the home and sees this as an opportunity to experience things that she feels have not been easily accessible to her as a disabled person.
This book challenges preconceptions about disabilities, and it also challenged my own thinking. There is a section of the novel where she talks about the act of reading a book and how this is physically damaging to her body, and it made me appreciate how much reading is actually a privilege.
The more I think about this book the more I appreciate it.

I wanted more, I loved Shaka. It gave such insights into the life of a disabled person, it is dark, funny, I felt uncomfortable, shocked and haven’t stopped thinking about it.

Told from Shaka's point of view, this is an unsettling story which has beautifully translated by Polly Barton - despite the subject matter, the prose just swam by.

Shaka lives in a small care home setup by her parents. Through the narrative, we learn that she's got a collapsed lung, a twisted spine, difficulty breathing/coughing and her life is severely impacted by what machines she needs to be hooked up to at any one time. Her mind is free and she is studying for a degree.

She also moonlights as an erotica writer. The book opens with one of her X-rated pieces about a night in a swingers club. There are several other x-rated sections. The stark contrast highlights the gap between her fantasies and her real life. As she dryly comments "What a funny old ecosystem where these meaningless sounds transliterate by a middle aged, severely disabled virgin generate income by setting people's honeypot quiver."

Shaka doesn't want your sympathy and her idolisation of sex/getting pregnant as something that she's missing out on leads her to risk everything. I'm not sure anyone comes out of this well, there's no hope and the ending is ambiguous.

I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

Well I certainly didn't see that end coming.

Shaka Isawa is the main character in Hunchback and narrates her own story. She lives in a care home where her physical needs are met by a team of carers. Shaka has a rare condition that leaves her wheelchair-bound and having to wear a restraining "corset" to prevent her internal organs being crushed by the weight of her body.

A new carer brings new possibilities when he admits that he has read her salacious and often shocking blog but what will his terms be for him to bend to her desires?

Saou Ichikawa is a new voice for me and this novel is clearly based on her own life. It won the Ukatagawa Prize and the Bingukukai Prize for New Writers. It is not hard to see why as she mixes the struggles of Shaka's physical limitations with the disturbing desires she exhibits and writes about in her blog. The book reminds me of the more unusual Japanese literary fiction that I love - Murata, Yuzuki or Mieko Kawakami to name a few. I can't wait to see what she writes next.

Thankyou to Netgalley and Penguin General UK for the advance review copy. Most appreciated.