The Curious Kitten at the Chibineko Kitchen

The Curious Kitten at the Chibineko Kitchen / Yuta Takahashi
translated from the Japanese by Cat Anderson 
NY: Penguin, 2025, c2020.
192 p.

This novel lies in the 'magical cafe' realm of Japanese fiction, but a little different - not a coffee shop but rather a seaside restaurant that serves evocative meals from a person's life, in order to draw back the dead. And recipes included! There is a cat as well, one which seems to be part of the conduit to the dead for diners at this restaurant. 

It's told in three sections; beginning with Kotoko, a young woman who is seeking out the restaurant after hearing that its kagezen (traditional meals offered in remembrance of loved ones) can actually restore them to you briefly. Her older brother died protecting her, and she feels a lot of guilt - she's hoping that this will be real, and help her. 

She meets Kai, the young chef, who introduces her to the kitten Chibi who is an integral part of the cafe. And she gets her meal - as she starts to eat, things get hazy and then she sees her brother. This experience draws her back to the kitchen, and in the next two sections she plays a bit of a role as well. The second story is a young boy who feels bad that he was mean to a classmate who died; she liked him and he made fun of her. He gets a chance to apologize here. And then the third section features an old man living near the cafe. Kai wants to take a meal to him, as he can't get around much. Kotoko helps him, and in this long night together, both of their lives are changed as well. 

I thought this was a lovely read, just different enough to appeal. And the short recipes are a great addition, especially for Western fans of the translations. There were a few little things about it I didn't like - particularly the second story about the young boy. According to the 'rules' of this return of the dead, they can only come back once. So why did a random classmate get to experience it, just so that he could feel better about his rude words, instead of  say, her parents? A personal peeve there! 

But this was a quiet read that I enjoyed. The setting is a tiny seaside location off the trainline, rather than a city, and there was lots of beauty even in the melancholic nature of the storyline. There is another volume to come, and I think I will be reading that one as well. 

The Lantern of Lost Memories

 

The Lantern of Lost Memories / Sanaka Hiiragi
trans. from the Japanese by Jesse Kirkwood
NY: Grand Central Publishing, 2024, c2019.
208 p.

Another Japanese novel, in the genre of healing fiction, and I really, really liked this one. It's a little different, with a bit more darkness to it but an amazing arc to the storyline. It has that tinge of the extraordinary, but with less whimsy, more melancholy and pathos. 

Mr. Hirasaki owns a photo studio somewhere in limbo, between the living and the dead. When a person dies, they are escorted to his shop (or one of many like it) and given the chance to view their life again, choosing one memory to relieve before they go on to the other side. 

Mr. Hirasaki is swamped with other people's memories, but has no recollection of who he is or why he has this role. He just has one photo to try to help him remember. 

This short novel follows loosely connected characters - first, Hatsue, a 92 yr old woman who was a nursery teacher and wants to relive a day from her career. She's happy and so are her memories. Then we have Waniguchi, a yakuza who is also somehow empathetic and protective; his memories are conflicted. Finally Mr. Hirasaki meets Mitsuru, a young girl who has had a short tragic life. He hates when his clients are children, and in this case he engages more actively with her moment of revisiting a memory than he really should... 

I found this read touching, highlighting the best of people even amidst tragedy or squalor. The instinct to sacrifice, and care for others, comes to the forefront even in those you might not expect to see it from. The concept of the story was a bit unusual, fresh for the genre, and allowed for some philosophical talk on life and memory to be included. The characters were complex, even the mysterious Mr. Hirasaki, despite the blank slate of his past. 

I thought this was a particularly thoughtful and engaging read; some trauma is involved but not gratuitously. There is an edge of darkness and grief that fits the story of a world in limbo between life and death, but also a beautiful sense of transcendence of the banal and everyday. 

One of my favourites so far. Recommended. 

The Healing Season Of Pottery

 

The Healing Season of Pottery / Yeon Somin
trans. from the Korean by Clare Richards
NY: Algonquin, 2024, c2023.
272 p.

This recent Korean novel was really enjoyable. It falls into the healing fiction category, but it has a little more depth as well. This storyline is another example of the midlife crisis at 30 that I've been noticing in Korean novels of this kind recently. 

Jungmin has burnt out at thirty, and abruptly quits her job as a tv writer, ending up as a recluse in her small apartment for months. Spring comes and she finally stumbles out into the world, coming across a pottery workshop that she at first mistakes for a café. The people inside are very welcoming, and somehow Jungmin finds herself joining some pottery classes. 

The regular schedule gets her out of her apartment, working with her hands provides her some calm and relief, and the small core of students she meets there give her new friendships and social interactions. She even ends up taking in a cat for one of them. 

The author clearly knows how to do pottery, and the details of the actual construction of pottery gives lots of opportunity for metaphors for life. I thought this worked very well. It's a nice change from the cafes, cats and bookshops that populate most of the books in this genre. Although there are cats and coffee here too ;) 

Through the year of making pottery and making a new place for herself in the world, Jungmin gets a sense of what she wants to do next, and what will be meaningful for her. There is a small thread of romance in the story, but she is not saved by falling in love or finding a relationship; she makes her own path, particularly focused on her work life. I really appreciated that, and felt that it gave integrity to this story. We also get a little bit of insight into the other characters and their big changes - they all have something that they are facing up to. I thought the interactions between the characters were lovely, each one an interesting person and no nastiness going on. Even when a heavy incident from Jungmin's past  arises again, there is a resolution to the lingering bitterness. The reader is left with a sense of uplift and a feeling that these characters are going to be okay. 

The translation is a little noticeable at times, with many Korean words left untranslated, to give the flavour of the original, I assume. A small glossary would have been nice to include, but there is always google. Some of the choices definitely reflect the UK English of the translator, as well. And I found it interesting that this book talks about celebrating Christmas in Korea (they have a pottery booth at a Christmas fair) and various other elements of contemporary life like international travel, the business world and more. I really liked this one.