As we read we become familiar with several characters from the neighbourhood. Many don’t read as complete in themselves, since they are vignettes, building one upon another. Some focus on a small incident, but the temporal perspective can change suddenly to reveal the fate of characters many years later, or return us to a detail from another story that has been left tantalisingly unexplained.Įach of the thirty-six stories is only a few hundred words, possibly a thousand words for the longest, making them a variety of flash- or micro-fiction. Some of the stories arouse our curiosity, others are unexplainable forays into magic realism. Kawakami’s book purports to be a glimpse into a Japanese neighbourhood, but rather than the ordered and perfect world the book’s cover anticipates, we are drawn into a world of bizarre characters and events. The Japanese are somewhat defined by a cleaning culture, which has its roots in Shintoism. If this is a stereotype, it’s one that is supported by other aspects of Japanese culture: manicured gardens that are readily identifiable as Japanese, as well as the popularity of Marie Kondo, who has made her fame by teaching others how to order their lives and find happiness. The neighbourhood is represented on the cover by a model, placing it beyond the real world, and instead suggesting a world of order, perfection and tranquillity. I think there is a Japanese aesthetic that is identifiable from the cover of Hiromi Kawakami’s People from My Neighbourhood.
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