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Senos y huevos
Senos y huevos es una novela breve sobre la relación entre tres generaciones de mujeres japonesas vinculadas por un cariño silencioso, propio de su educación y concepto de la feminidad. Este divertido y provocador relato es esencialmente una reflexión sobre la mujer y su cuerpo. La relación que las tres mujeres tienen con su cuerpo y con el de los demás es la forma con la que se definen socialmente, la que les da su identidad; cada conversación o acción de las protagonistas vuelve siempre al punto de el cuerpo. Senos y huevos ya ha sido traducida al francés, noruego, chino, alemán y coreano.
120 pages, Paperback
First published February 25, 2008
About the author
Mieko Kawakami
59 books6,884 followersMieko Kawakami (川上未映子, born in August 29, 1976) is a Japanese singer and writer from Osaka.
She was awarded the 138th Akutagawa Prize for promising new writers of serious fiction (2007) for her novel Chichi to Ran (乳と卵) (Breasts and Eggs).
Kawakami has released three albums and three singles as a singer.
She was awarded the 138th Akutagawa Prize for promising new writers of serious fiction (2007) for her novel Chichi to Ran (乳と卵) (Breasts and Eggs).
Kawakami has released three albums and three singles as a singer.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 111 reviews
November 20, 2020
"Et c'est là que je lui ai dit : "Mais c'est toi qui m'as mise au monde". C'est seulement après que j'ai réfléchi qu'elle non plus n'avait pas choisi de naître, et c'est là que j'ai juré que même si un jour je devenais adulte, jamais de jamais je n'aurais d'enfant."
(p.63)
Voilà un livre tout à fait particulier, qui rebutera ceux et celles qui sont dégoûté(e)s par la simple mention des règles. Si c'est le cas, passez votre chemin.
Dans ce très court récit, on suit trois femmes d'une même famille. Un jour Natsu voit sa sœur Makiko débarquer chez elle, accompagnée de sa fille Midori. Si Makiko a décidé de se rendre à Tokyo, c'est pour aller consulter une clinique de chirurgie esthétique qui s'occupera de lui refaire les seins. Sa fille, qui ne prononce plus un mot depuis très longtemps, ne comprend pas ce choix, et sa sœur non plus d'ailleurs.
On alterne entre le récit (souvent intérieur) de Natsu et des bribes du journal intime de Midori. Tandis que Makiko ne cesse de parler et parler, notamment de son physique, de celui des autres, des différentes façons d'agrandir ses seins, Natsu est une femme qui a du mal à s'exprimer. Elle a du mal à formuler son incompréhension face à cette nouvelle obsession qu'a sa sœur, elle est visiblement dépassée par tout ça. Quant à Midori, suite à une dispute avec sa mère, elle a décidé de ne plus parler et utilise un carnet afin de communiquer. Pendant presque toute l'histoire, ce n'est qu'à travers son journal intime qu'on en apprend plus sur elle, en particulier ses peurs de jeune fille dont le corps est en train de changer.
J'ai trouvé ce récit intéressant car il montre le décalage qu'il peut y avoir entre des femmes de générations différentes, toutes avec des complexes physiques propres à chacune. C'est rafraîchissant de voir une femme qui a des fuites de règles, qui a la femme de devoir tout laver alors qu'elle est crevée et ne veut que continuer à dormir. C'est intéressant et provoquant de lire à propos d'une adolescente qui est répugnée par la capacité innée en son corps de pouvoir tomber enceinte (chose dans laquelle je me reconnais, par ailleurs).
Le récit se veut également drôle parfois, notamment la scène où Natsu se rappelle une conversation cliché au possible où une femme qui est maquillée dit à une autre femme que si elle veut se faire refaire les seins, c'est pour le regard des hommes. C'est vraiment très drôle, et ça a son impact parce que ça a la possibilité d'amener les lectrices à rigoler d'elle-même, tout en se rendant compte de la dureté des diktats de la beauté féminine.
Je ne suis pas sûre d'avoir compris la scène avec les œufs à la fin par contre. Était-ce une façon de dire "fuck à la procréation"? de dire que c'est dur pour une femme de naître et de devoir devenir ce qu'elle doit devenir? A méditer.
"C'est l'horreur de penser qu'avant même de naître j'avais déjà tout ce qu'il faut pour faire naître des bébés. Et pas qu'un peu ! C'est pas juste écrit dans les livres, ça se passe en ce moment dans mon ventre ! Alors quand je pense �� ce truc qui est déjà prêt à naître, j'ai envie de l'exploser et de le réduire en charpie, franchement ! Qu'est-ce que c'est, cette histoire !" (p.68)
Voilà un livre tout à fait particulier, qui rebutera ceux et celles qui sont dégoûté(e)s par la simple mention des règles. Si c'est le cas, passez votre chemin.
Dans ce très court récit, on suit trois femmes d'une même famille. Un jour Natsu voit sa sœur Makiko débarquer chez elle, accompagnée de sa fille Midori. Si Makiko a décidé de se rendre à Tokyo, c'est pour aller consulter une clinique de chirurgie esthétique qui s'occupera de lui refaire les seins. Sa fille, qui ne prononce plus un mot depuis très longtemps, ne comprend pas ce choix, et sa sœur non plus d'ailleurs.
On alterne entre le récit (souvent intérieur) de Natsu et des bribes du journal intime de Midori. Tandis que Makiko ne cesse de parler et parler, notamment de son physique, de celui des autres, des différentes façons d'agrandir ses seins, Natsu est une femme qui a du mal à s'exprimer. Elle a du mal à formuler son incompréhension face à cette nouvelle obsession qu'a sa sœur, elle est visiblement dépassée par tout ça. Quant à Midori, suite à une dispute avec sa mère, elle a décidé de ne plus parler et utilise un carnet afin de communiquer. Pendant presque toute l'histoire, ce n'est qu'à travers son journal intime qu'on en apprend plus sur elle, en particulier ses peurs de jeune fille dont le corps est en train de changer.
J'ai trouvé ce récit intéressant car il montre le décalage qu'il peut y avoir entre des femmes de générations différentes, toutes avec des complexes physiques propres à chacune. C'est rafraîchissant de voir une femme qui a des fuites de règles, qui a la femme de devoir tout laver alors qu'elle est crevée et ne veut que continuer à dormir. C'est intéressant et provoquant de lire à propos d'une adolescente qui est répugnée par la capacité innée en son corps de pouvoir tomber enceinte (chose dans laquelle je me reconnais, par ailleurs).
Le récit se veut également drôle parfois, notamment la scène où Natsu se rappelle une conversation cliché au possible où une femme qui est maquillée dit à une autre femme que si elle veut se faire refaire les seins, c'est pour le regard des hommes. C'est vraiment très drôle, et ça a son impact parce que ça a la possibilité d'amener les lectrices à rigoler d'elle-même, tout en se rendant compte de la dureté des diktats de la beauté féminine.
Je ne suis pas sûre d'avoir compris la scène avec les œufs à la fin par contre. Était-ce une façon de dire "fuck à la procréation"? de dire que c'est dur pour une femme de naître et de devoir devenir ce qu'elle doit devenir? A méditer.
"C'est l'horreur de penser qu'avant même de naître j'avais déjà tout ce qu'il faut pour faire naître des bébés. Et pas qu'un peu ! C'est pas juste écrit dans les livres, ça se passe en ce moment dans mon ventre ! Alors quand je pense �� ce truc qui est déjà prêt à naître, j'ai envie de l'exploser et de le réduire en charpie, franchement ! Qu'est-ce que c'est, cette histoire !" (p.68)
August 15, 2015
I quite enjoyed this little glimpse into today's Japan - especially after reading the translator's comments at the end. More translations should come with these enlightening little essays! It really added a whole dimension to the main text, and made me curious about Higuchi. It also explained why there were so many commas in the text (it almost felt Danish at times).
Of the actual texts (there are two), I preferred the shorter one about the depressing Woman and Man. Not that the first one wasn't depressing, but the second one decidedly felt more hopeless!
Of the actual texts (there are two), I preferred the shorter one about the depressing Woman and Man. Not that the first one wasn't depressing, but the second one decidedly felt more hopeless!
October 14, 2022
Este libro me persiguió durante varios años hasta que hace poco tomé la decisión de hacerme con él. Se trata de una novelita corta cuyos temas principales son la relación de tres mujeres con su cuerpo y el papel de la mujer japonesa en la sociedad contemporánea. Le valió a su autora el premio Akutagawa, y lo curioso es que años después la historia original fue ampliada y complementada por una segunda parte. En España, la nueva edición la publicó Seix Barral y es más conocida (la original tuvo una tirada muy corta) y yo aún no la he catado. Cantante, bloguera y luego escritora, hasta el momento es lo único en castellano de Mieko Kawakami, pero espero que eso cambie pronto porque he tenido la ocasión de leerla en inglés y me encanta su estilo.
May 5, 2021
Después de años viendo esta obra y leyendo maravillas de ella, he leído “Senos y huevos” y tengo que decir que me he quedado un poco fría.
Esperaba, según lo que he oído e incluso el título me hacía pensarlo, que sería una obra disruptiva y rompedora en relación con su tema principal: la relación de la mujer con su cuerpo y, en ese sentido, no he encontrado lo que buscaba. O al menos no en la forma que lo imaginaba. Es cierto que la novela se publicó en Japón hace unos años (2008) y quizá entonces, y sobre todo en ese país, si supusiera una gran controversia al tratar ciertos temas que, no quiero decir tabú, pero si que no se hablan con naturalidad como la menstruación, dilemas ante la maternidad, un debate en torno a la cirugía plástica… ¡OJO! Si no estás preparado para leer de estos temas, me retracto y diré que entonces, este libro es muy necesario.
[Inciso a mi propia reseña: acabo de descubrir que la autora a reescrito de cero la novela en 2019, usando la misma historia y personajes, pero ha declarado que es una novela diferente. Mi reseña es de la obra de 2008 en la edición de 2013 de SD ediciones, la única hasta el momento en español]
“Senos y huevos” nos presenta a tres mujeres, dos mujeres adultas (hermanas) y la hija adolescente de una de ellas. Todo sucede en apenas tres días, donde madre e hija visitan Tokio, en un momento de crisis entre ambas. Descubriremos qué les ha pasado y veremos si pueden salvar sus diferencias. Midoriko, la adolescente, no habla en toda la novela, sin embargo, conocemos sus preocupaciones y reflexiones sobre ser mujer y su cuerpo a través de su diario.
Al ser una novela tan corta, cualquier cosa que diga sería destripárosla. Así que, ahí os lo dejo, un libro que está bien, pero no tan bien como esperaba. Aún así, tiene cosas por las que merece la pena la lectura, como la forma de plasmar la brecha en el pensamiento de mujeres de distintas generaciones, o la visibilidad que da a la variedad de elecciones de una mujer sobre su cuerpo, siendo todas ellas validas y que pone de manifiesto que la verdadera importancia es que haya libertad para elegir. También, os seré sincera, aún sigo pensando en la apoteósica escena final y su posible significado.
Esta edición tiene varios errores tipográficos lo que me da mucha rabia y me genera dudas sobre si tal vez la traducción no haya captado ciertos matices de la obra. Tras conocer de la existencia de la nueva versión de “Senos y Huevos” (Breast and Eggs, 2019), sin duda me haré con ella, y entonces, hablaremos de nuevo
Esperaba, según lo que he oído e incluso el título me hacía pensarlo, que sería una obra disruptiva y rompedora en relación con su tema principal: la relación de la mujer con su cuerpo y, en ese sentido, no he encontrado lo que buscaba. O al menos no en la forma que lo imaginaba. Es cierto que la novela se publicó en Japón hace unos años (2008) y quizá entonces, y sobre todo en ese país, si supusiera una gran controversia al tratar ciertos temas que, no quiero decir tabú, pero si que no se hablan con naturalidad como la menstruación, dilemas ante la maternidad, un debate en torno a la cirugía plástica… ¡OJO! Si no estás preparado para leer de estos temas, me retracto y diré que entonces, este libro es muy necesario.
[Inciso a mi propia reseña: acabo de descubrir que la autora a reescrito de cero la novela en 2019, usando la misma historia y personajes, pero ha declarado que es una novela diferente. Mi reseña es de la obra de 2008 en la edición de 2013 de SD ediciones, la única hasta el momento en español]
“Senos y huevos” nos presenta a tres mujeres, dos mujeres adultas (hermanas) y la hija adolescente de una de ellas. Todo sucede en apenas tres días, donde madre e hija visitan Tokio, en un momento de crisis entre ambas. Descubriremos qué les ha pasado y veremos si pueden salvar sus diferencias. Midoriko, la adolescente, no habla en toda la novela, sin embargo, conocemos sus preocupaciones y reflexiones sobre ser mujer y su cuerpo a través de su diario.
Al ser una novela tan corta, cualquier cosa que diga sería destripárosla. Así que, ahí os lo dejo, un libro que está bien, pero no tan bien como esperaba. Aún así, tiene cosas por las que merece la pena la lectura, como la forma de plasmar la brecha en el pensamiento de mujeres de distintas generaciones, o la visibilidad que da a la variedad de elecciones de una mujer sobre su cuerpo, siendo todas ellas validas y que pone de manifiesto que la verdadera importancia es que haya libertad para elegir. También, os seré sincera, aún sigo pensando en la apoteósica escena final y su posible significado.
Esta edición tiene varios errores tipográficos lo que me da mucha rabia y me genera dudas sobre si tal vez la traducción no haya captado ciertos matices de la obra. Tras conocer de la existencia de la nueva versión de “Senos y Huevos” (Breast and Eggs, 2019), sin duda me haré con ella, y entonces, hablaremos de nuevo
November 21, 2021
きっと日本語にはペラペラではない読者には難しいだと思います。それが、日本人とこの本を相談しているうちに、意識の流れと主語ぬきであるの組み合わせた書き方のせいで、日本語を流暢に読む人々でも難しさはすごいと言われました。十分に理解できたのがわからないなのですが、それなのに徐々に要点を理解できました。
大阪弁を使う隠れ社会的な階級の女性等として書かれた文章は、出版された頃に独創的なものだと理解します。
台所で卵を使用していた喧嘩の場面は、すごく良いと思いました。
最後の「あなたたちの恋愛は瀕死」という話は、変で意味が全然わかりませんでした。
大阪弁を使う隠れ社会的な階級の女性等として書かれた文章は、出版された頃に独創的なものだと理解します。
台所で卵を使用していた喧嘩の場面は、すごく良いと思いました。
最後の「あなたたちの恋愛は瀕死」という話は、変で意味が全然わかりませんでした。
May 18, 2021
I read this in Japanese. I know I'm so late to the Kawakami game, and she is obviously extremely talented writer. But her writing makes me uncomfortable. I'm not saying it's a bad thing though.
June 11, 2024
L'année dernière, j'avais lu Heaven de la même autrice et je suis agréablement surprise de retrouver des similitudes entre ces deux récits: c'est étrange, organique et percutant. Ce récit est d'avantage une réflexion qu'une véritable histoire. L'autrice aborde les relations mères-filles, le désir ou non d'avoir des enfants, le corps des femmes dans la société et son évolution. L'utilisation de la discussion intergénérationnelle rend le propos encore plus intéressant. Une très bonne lecture.
May 30, 2018
godt oversatt
October 7, 2022
I read the novel in Japanese since I wanted to have a sensible/clear understanding of Kawakami's story and her narrative. Her narrative was definitely very distinctive since it mixes informal Osaka-ben in between her characters Makiko (Mother of Midoriko), Midoriko, and me/watashi (Makiko's sister/Midoriko's aunt). It was unique how we view through the lense of watashi, as her comments throughout the novel remained somewhat plateaued and calm most of the time. She considered the issues of Makiko (wanting breast augmentation surgery乳) and Midoriko (hitting puberty and experiencing her first period卵) as a separate reality from herself and viewed it third perspective which adapts most likely to the readers' thoughts who aren't used to this plot yet in the beginning. Makiko wanted to take back her sexuality she felt she lost through giving birth to Midoriko and losing/divorcing her husband by getting breast augmentation. Midoriko hated her period and we see glimpses of her diary texts indicating how perplexed and agitated she was with the entire thought of sexual reproduction and giving birth. She was against Makiko's surgery and couldn't talk for months but in the ending, Midoriko and her mother exploded and they started to bash eggs on their own heads, revealing their internal struggles to one another. They were both smothered in egg yolk but it strangely enabled them both to release a bit of their bottled up feelings --- leading to the finale when they both seem to have a stronger bond when they leave "watashi's" home and go back to to theres (Makiko&Midoriko were only staying during the summer).
This story was definitely unique in how it projected the common struggles of women with the sentiment of losing sexual confidence in one's own body after child birth, and struggling to maintain their ego through divorce. Another common struggle is young individuals facing puberty being unable to express their feelings and constantly going through a mental struggle of maintaining 'normal' ties with their family even when they can't talk as openly as before since they feeling the internal boundary.
The last short story about the 'love that is fatally injured,' it was brutal and true how the protagonist "Onna" also faced the harsh reality of changing perceptions in favoritism. She built her confidence through the commercialized area of cosmetic shopping counters by seeing her beautiful self, or what she thought. She didn't realize that these businesses are professionals at making women feel more beautiful with their products through perfect lighting and mirrors. She faced the reality of undeniable aging when she bumped into a youthful pretty woman when she rudely looked her up to down, and scoffed. The Onna looked away quickly, not being able to consider it. She then encountered a man she wanted to have a one night stand with that was giving out tissues, but she was violently punched by him since he had bottled feelings of frustration towards the society doing his work. He mentioned her to have a 'gray face' so all of her cosmetics may have made her believed it did wonders, but not to the man.... Her cosmetics crashed and crumbled in the process, her face bleeding, indicating her inner hopes and confidence had shattered...
This story was definitely unique in how it projected the common struggles of women with the sentiment of losing sexual confidence in one's own body after child birth, and struggling to maintain their ego through divorce. Another common struggle is young individuals facing puberty being unable to express their feelings and constantly going through a mental struggle of maintaining 'normal' ties with their family even when they can't talk as openly as before since they feeling the internal boundary.
The last short story about the 'love that is fatally injured,' it was brutal and true how the protagonist "Onna" also faced the harsh reality of changing perceptions in favoritism. She built her confidence through the commercialized area of cosmetic shopping counters by seeing her beautiful self, or what she thought. She didn't realize that these businesses are professionals at making women feel more beautiful with their products through perfect lighting and mirrors. She faced the reality of undeniable aging when she bumped into a youthful pretty woman when she rudely looked her up to down, and scoffed. The Onna looked away quickly, not being able to consider it. She then encountered a man she wanted to have a one night stand with that was giving out tissues, but she was violently punched by him since he had bottled feelings of frustration towards the society doing his work. He mentioned her to have a 'gray face' so all of her cosmetics may have made her believed it did wonders, but not to the man.... Her cosmetics crashed and crumbled in the process, her face bleeding, indicating her inner hopes and confidence had shattered...
February 10, 2022
This was an extremely accessible and fast reading for me. I probably wouldn’t have picked it up on my own, but it was a January read for my book club (the first ever book club! yay!) and I kind of breezed through it, only to find out that the English version of Breasts and Eggs actually consists of two books, this one and Natsu Monogatari, or even possibly is the translation of the latter. Ahem. Anyway, I’m still reading Natsu Monogatari, which sort of includes this story with added scenes and other elements.
Makiko was my favorite character in this one, and I also enjoyed Midoriko’s diary entries a lot. The narrator, Natsuko, is sort of invisible in this one, but she seems to be judging her sister – and everyone else, especially women – very harshly; there are some really unflattering descriptions and observations, and maybe it’s been intended to show the narrator’s internalized misogyny, but then I’m not so sure. Anyway, I thought it was an interesting story, and I did like the egg scene, which seems to be the piece de resistance of the whole.
The second story, about an unnamed woman who tries to muster up courage to have sex with someone she has never met, is probably intended to be unnerving, but the reader can probably see where the whole thing is going… the most interesting thing about it were the main character’s thoughts about bookstores.
I’m not sure whether Kawakami’s stories are indeed as feminist as the popular opinion makes them out to be; I can sense some sort of exasperation at the aspirations and thought processes of Everywoman, so to say. I don’t know yet. I’m still reading Natsu Monogatari.
February 6, 2023
Hva som ellers var en ok bok, ble satt i et helt nytt perspektiv da jeg leste etterordene. Jeg kunne ønske jeg kjente til verket som Kawakami refererer til i boka hennes. Spesielt siden et av elementene jeg likte best i boka, språket, også er inspirert av dette verket.
Det som stråler mest for meg, det jeg sitter igjen med, etter å ha lest boka, er de små øyeblikkene med samtaler mellom karakterer som ikke er våres hovedkarakterer. Samtalen mellom de to kvinnene om feminisme og valg har gravd seg spesielt inn i hjernebarken. Jeg beundrer måten Kawakami fremstiller det på. At selv jenta som kritiserer venninnen sin for hennes ønske om silikonbryster for (slik jenta mener) å tilfredstille menn, også faller i samme fella. En samtale som ender i fæle ord som slenges imellom dem, der hverken av dem "vinner" til slutt.
Jeg er glad jeg leste denne boken på norsk. Den frie tankestrømmen av ord oversettes så godt på norsk! Det var en fryd å lese.
Det skal sies at jeg ikke er så fornøyd med hvordan "Pupper og egg" kom fram til sin slutt. Scenen med Makiko, Midoriko og eggene fikk meg ikke til å føle det jeg antar det var ment at jeg skulle føle. 4 stjerner rett og slett på grunn av etterordene.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Det som stråler mest for meg, det jeg sitter igjen med, etter å ha lest boka, er de små øyeblikkene med samtaler mellom karakterer som ikke er våres hovedkarakterer. Samtalen mellom de to kvinnene om feminisme og valg har gravd seg spesielt inn i hjernebarken. Jeg beundrer måten Kawakami fremstiller det på. At selv jenta som kritiserer venninnen sin for hennes ønske om silikonbryster for (slik jenta mener) å tilfredstille menn, også faller i samme fella. En samtale som ender i fæle ord som slenges imellom dem, der hverken av dem "vinner" til slutt.
Jeg er glad jeg leste denne boken på norsk. Den frie tankestrømmen av ord oversettes så godt på norsk! Det var en fryd å lese.
Det skal sies at jeg ikke er så fornøyd med hvordan "Pupper og egg" kom fram til sin slutt. Scenen med Makiko, Midoriko og eggene fikk meg ikke til å føle det jeg antar det var ment at jeg skulle føle. 4 stjerner rett og slett på grunn av etterordene.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
May 11, 2021
Nada de artificios. Una escritura clara, directa y cotidiana, pero que no deja de provocarnos profundos cuestionamientos sobre nuestra posición en el mundo, sobre nuestros valores y sobre nuestras conductas.
Acompañamos a las 3 mujeres casi a tiempo real, ya que la acción se desarrolla en 2 días y medio, el tiempo máximo que podría tomarnos leer este libro, que en realidad vuela en nuestras manos.
Acompañamos a las 3 mujeres casi a tiempo real, ya que la acción se desarrolla en 2 días y medio, el tiempo máximo que podría tomarnos leer este libro, que en realidad vuela en nuestras manos.
June 5, 2019
veldig braa! Intens og skikkelig bra skrevet og sjuk novelle i tillEgg
December 24, 2021
Natsu (single woman) receives a visit from her sister Makiko (who wants breast enlargement surgery) and niece Midoriko (who has decided to stop talking altogether). The two older women struggle with their decaying and ageing bodies, Midoriko is struggling with her entry into womanhood and fears the future. They all suffer from an inability to communicate, and all of this is set with the crushingly depressing japanese labour market of the post-90's as a background. The two sisters have inane conversations without really talking to each other, giving us some small glimpses of their lives, and we get some more background information through silent Midoriko's diary entries. So far so good.
Three quarters of the way in Natsu discovers that she has bought two cartons of eggs that expire tomorrow, and she has to throw them out. I understand the allegory, her biological clock is ticking and her eggs are expiring. But as a man my very first association is that eggs stay perfectly fine in the fridge several months past the expiry date, and that the book is definitely written by a woman. I would brush past this if it were not for what follows:
All the tension builds up to a grand conclusion which involves Makiko coming home drunk and confronting Midoriko about her silence. In the middle of her sisters outburst Natsu decides the natural course of action is to open the fridge, find a bottle of french dressing (allegory for sperm?), and pouring it into the sink while commenting on its consistency and lumpiness. Midoriko one-ups her aunts performance by taking the cartons of expired eggs and smashing them one by one against her forehead and breaking her silence by screaming "mommy, mommy tell me the truth". We get a few pages describing the eggyolk and eggshells covering her head, running down her hair. The next day they get on the train and leave for home.
I can not take this seriously. Like an ungodly mixture of social realism and a terrible experimental arthouse movie. It touches upon interesting topics, difficulty of communication and expressing feelings, condition of women in japanese society, the nature of being female, but it never delivers (in my opinion). Maybe other readers will be able to relate to and engage with the characters.
Three quarters of the way in Natsu discovers that she has bought two cartons of eggs that expire tomorrow, and she has to throw them out. I understand the allegory, her biological clock is ticking and her eggs are expiring. But as a man my very first association is that eggs stay perfectly fine in the fridge several months past the expiry date, and that the book is definitely written by a woman. I would brush past this if it were not for what follows:
All the tension builds up to a grand conclusion which involves Makiko coming home drunk and confronting Midoriko about her silence. In the middle of her sisters outburst Natsu decides the natural course of action is to open the fridge, find a bottle of french dressing (allegory for sperm?), and pouring it into the sink while commenting on its consistency and lumpiness. Midoriko one-ups her aunts performance by taking the cartons of expired eggs and smashing them one by one against her forehead and breaking her silence by screaming "mommy, mommy tell me the truth". We get a few pages describing the eggyolk and eggshells covering her head, running down her hair. The next day they get on the train and leave for home.
I can not take this seriously. Like an ungodly mixture of social realism and a terrible experimental arthouse movie. It touches upon interesting topics, difficulty of communication and expressing feelings, condition of women in japanese society, the nature of being female, but it never delivers (in my opinion). Maybe other readers will be able to relate to and engage with the characters.
April 28, 2021
4,5⭐️
Impressionante como em apenas 113 páginas, tantos temas tabus são tratados de forma crua e nua pela autora.
No cerne, a discussão de quanto difícil é lidar no cotidiano com o corpo feminino. Exagero? Dores menstruais, parto, pós-parto, gravidez, um corpo que por todos esses processos, acaba mais debilitado. E a isso, acrescente a insistente cobrança por mantê-lo dentro de padrões inalcançáveis (também para a maioria).
E ainda, a dificuldade de comunicar-se, mesmo com quem se ama.
A história nos leva a passar 2 dias com duas irmãs e a filha adolescente da irmã mais velha. A menina se chama Midoriko, a mãe, Makiko e tem 39 anos de idade. A outra irmã, carinhosamente chamada de Na-chan é a nossa narradora.
E no meio da narração, lemos pedaços do diário de Midoriko.
O final é catártico, super visual. Mas já te aviso que é um livro introspectivo, de vida real e normal. E esse também é seu ponto forte, porque contém “verdades” que não costumam ser ditas, mas que povoam as mentes de muitas mulheres.
“… cada vez entendía menos de qué o de quién hablaba. Me sentía incómoda. Al final, ni siquiera tenía la impresión de hablar con ella, como si el eco de sus palabras planeara sobre mí sin llegar a tocarme” (pp. 12/13)
Olha que coisa mais linda: “El sonido de esas palabras, el paisaje interior que evocan, me causan un dolor del que no puedo librarme, una tristeza permanente que se me adhiere a la espalda. Son cosas lamentables que vuelven una y otra vez, como en una noche lúgubre. Terminan por encharcarme los pulmones, los ojos …” (pp. 20/21).
Esse livro forma parte da lista #40ferrante
Impressionante como em apenas 113 páginas, tantos temas tabus são tratados de forma crua e nua pela autora.
No cerne, a discussão de quanto difícil é lidar no cotidiano com o corpo feminino. Exagero? Dores menstruais, parto, pós-parto, gravidez, um corpo que por todos esses processos, acaba mais debilitado. E a isso, acrescente a insistente cobrança por mantê-lo dentro de padrões inalcançáveis (também para a maioria).
E ainda, a dificuldade de comunicar-se, mesmo com quem se ama.
A história nos leva a passar 2 dias com duas irmãs e a filha adolescente da irmã mais velha. A menina se chama Midoriko, a mãe, Makiko e tem 39 anos de idade. A outra irmã, carinhosamente chamada de Na-chan é a nossa narradora.
E no meio da narração, lemos pedaços do diário de Midoriko.
O final é catártico, super visual. Mas já te aviso que é um livro introspectivo, de vida real e normal. E esse também é seu ponto forte, porque contém “verdades” que não costumam ser ditas, mas que povoam as mentes de muitas mulheres.
“… cada vez entendía menos de qué o de quién hablaba. Me sentía incómoda. Al final, ni siquiera tenía la impresión de hablar con ella, como si el eco de sus palabras planeara sobre mí sin llegar a tocarme” (pp. 12/13)
Olha que coisa mais linda: “El sonido de esas palabras, el paisaje interior que evocan, me causan un dolor del que no puedo librarme, una tristeza permanente que se me adhiere a la espalda. Son cosas lamentables que vuelven una y otra vez, como en una noche lúgubre. Terminan por encharcarme los pulmones, los ojos …” (pp. 20/21).
Esse livro forma parte da lista #40ferrante
April 5, 2022
I listened to this on a Japanese audiobook. I tried to read a physical book twice but couldn't get past page 3 because her writing style made me dizzy and wound up switching to the audiobook. Listening to this was strange, funny, and thought provoking. I enjoyed the first half about breasts but not so much for the second half about eggs.
July 27, 2016
Klarer ikke bestemme meg for om jeg liker den eller om den bare er irriterende. Men tror den henger igjen i meg en stund. Bonus med etterord av oversetteren med både forklaring av sjangerformen og det japanske samfunnet.
January 10, 2019
Corregid los libros :(
O si no, al menos NO PONGÁIS COMAS DELANTE DE UNA PUTA RAYA :((
O si no, al menos NO PONGÁIS COMAS DELANTE DE UNA PUTA RAYA :((
September 23, 2020
Not as good as I expected. I heard it was acclaimed internationally, I wonder how it is translated.
March 27, 2021
Breasts and Eggs by Kawakami Mieko 3.5/5 stars ⭐⭐⭐🌠
I read this book for my book club in January. It then turned out that I was reading the original from 10 years ago while everyone else read the expanded edition from 2019. But tbh I feel like I am good with the old version as a lot of people who have read both didn't seem to like the new version.
This is one of those books that I can't imagine reading in translation as it is featuring the warm and homely dialect from the Kansai prefecture which obviously can't be translated. The book won the Akutagawa book prize in 2009 which is a big deal in Japanese bookish field. This was my first Akutagawa prize winner read.
Pros:
✨ The Kansai dialect. It is warm and burning at the same time as women from Osaka are known to be very powerful in their mannerisms. The strong characters of each of the 3 women featured in the book came across quite well.
✨ Not your standard mother-daughter relationship. I liked how the book showed that this relationship doesn't always have to be perfect. There can be misunderstandings and kids don't always have to get along with their parents.
✨ The way Midoriko felt about puberty is very real. Some people don't have an issue with the changes their bodies go through, but it can be terrifying for many and that is also OK.
✨ I actually liked the very vague ending of the book as it left me with my own imagination.
Cons:
✨ Mental health state of children and young teens in Japan. Kids like Midoriko are all over the country. We even have one kid in my school who has stopped coming to classes. Bullying, puberty, being misunderstood are real problems in Japan, and instead of addressing them most of the time kids just stop going to school whatsoever. Parents are too busy with work to deal with their kids problems. This is something I cannot accept about Japanese society and its ways. We could see the same in Makiko being more worried about breast enlargement rather than whatever her daughter was going through.
✨ I honestly didn't like how Natsuko was ready to judge women just because they wanted to do breast enlargement and couldn't accept that it was something the woman could want to do for herself and not to appease men. I also didn't like how she never listened to her sister and everything that Makiko told her just flew over her head.
Overall the book was a good one, very well written, and it addressed some very real issues that you don't always see in literature. Normalising menstruation through literature especially in a misogynistic country like Japan is a great feat and I can't help by laud the author. However, I didn't like the characters much, as all of them were kind of selfish, ready to jump to conclusions, and easily guided by prejudices.
I read this book for my book club in January. It then turned out that I was reading the original from 10 years ago while everyone else read the expanded edition from 2019. But tbh I feel like I am good with the old version as a lot of people who have read both didn't seem to like the new version.
This is one of those books that I can't imagine reading in translation as it is featuring the warm and homely dialect from the Kansai prefecture which obviously can't be translated. The book won the Akutagawa book prize in 2009 which is a big deal in Japanese bookish field. This was my first Akutagawa prize winner read.
Pros:
✨ The Kansai dialect. It is warm and burning at the same time as women from Osaka are known to be very powerful in their mannerisms. The strong characters of each of the 3 women featured in the book came across quite well.
✨ Not your standard mother-daughter relationship. I liked how the book showed that this relationship doesn't always have to be perfect. There can be misunderstandings and kids don't always have to get along with their parents.
✨ The way Midoriko felt about puberty is very real. Some people don't have an issue with the changes their bodies go through, but it can be terrifying for many and that is also OK.
✨ I actually liked the very vague ending of the book as it left me with my own imagination.
Cons:
✨ Mental health state of children and young teens in Japan. Kids like Midoriko are all over the country. We even have one kid in my school who has stopped coming to classes. Bullying, puberty, being misunderstood are real problems in Japan, and instead of addressing them most of the time kids just stop going to school whatsoever. Parents are too busy with work to deal with their kids problems. This is something I cannot accept about Japanese society and its ways. We could see the same in Makiko being more worried about breast enlargement rather than whatever her daughter was going through.
✨ I honestly didn't like how Natsuko was ready to judge women just because they wanted to do breast enlargement and couldn't accept that it was something the woman could want to do for herself and not to appease men. I also didn't like how she never listened to her sister and everything that Makiko told her just flew over her head.
Overall the book was a good one, very well written, and it addressed some very real issues that you don't always see in literature. Normalising menstruation through literature especially in a misogynistic country like Japan is a great feat and I can't help by laud the author. However, I didn't like the characters much, as all of them were kind of selfish, ready to jump to conclusions, and easily guided by prejudices.
Read
February 22, 2020J'avais lu ou vaguement entendu que Mieko Kawakami est une des auteures traduites les plus intéressantes parlant directement de thèmes féminins et féministes. Il y a d'ailleurs eu pas mal de moussage publicitaire autour de la traduction anglaise de "Chichi to ran" (Seins et Oeufs en vf), récemment.
Malheureusement... je crois que la traduction française ne rend pas la voix de l'auteure... J'y reviens dans quelques lignes.
L'histoire en tant que telle raconte le passage d'une adolescente et de sa mère monoparentale chez la soeur de cette dernière, à Tokyo. Ça se passe durant les vacances d'été. Le but avoué de cette visite à Tokyo est, pour la mère, d'avoir une chirurgie d'augmentation mammaire. L'idée l'obsède depuis des mois. La soeur ne comprend pas pourquoi, mais écoute avec patience. L'adolescente ne parle plus et est dégoutée à l'idée d'avoir ses premières règles. Le récit est raconté du point de vue de la soeur tokyoite, mais on n'apprend jamais rien sur elle, ce qui est assez intéressant en soit.
Avec ces thèmes, on pourrait croire que le roman soit une reflexion sur la société, ou encore une genre de comédie déjantée à la japonaise. But I think all this got lost in translation...
Le livre est très court et je pense le relire en anglais. Quand j'en ai parlé à une personne japonaise et qu'elle m'a expliqué la façon dont le livre est écrit en japonais (monologue intérieur presque sans ponctuation, un hommage direct à l'écrivaine Higuchi Ichiyou, beaucoup de passages en Osaka-ben, entre autres), j'ai compris que le traducteur français a traduit l'histoire, mais qu'il n'a peut-être pas tenté de transférer le style de l'écrivaine en français. Je dois aussi avouer avoir senti l'homme derrière la traduction dans les passages sur le corps féminin et sur les menstruations (iiishhh....). Ceci dit, le traducteur est Patrick Honnoré, dont j'ai lu plusieurs autres traductions, comme l'excellente traduction de Au-delà / Entrée triomphale dans Port-Arthur, de Uchida Hyakken... Je conclus à un accident de parcours, certainement.
Malheureusement... je crois que la traduction française ne rend pas la voix de l'auteure... J'y reviens dans quelques lignes.
L'histoire en tant que telle raconte le passage d'une adolescente et de sa mère monoparentale chez la soeur de cette dernière, à Tokyo. Ça se passe durant les vacances d'été. Le but avoué de cette visite à Tokyo est, pour la mère, d'avoir une chirurgie d'augmentation mammaire. L'idée l'obsède depuis des mois. La soeur ne comprend pas pourquoi, mais écoute avec patience. L'adolescente ne parle plus et est dégoutée à l'idée d'avoir ses premières règles. Le récit est raconté du point de vue de la soeur tokyoite, mais on n'apprend jamais rien sur elle, ce qui est assez intéressant en soit.
Avec ces thèmes, on pourrait croire que le roman soit une reflexion sur la société, ou encore une genre de comédie déjantée à la japonaise. But I think all this got lost in translation...
Le livre est très court et je pense le relire en anglais. Quand j'en ai parlé à une personne japonaise et qu'elle m'a expliqué la façon dont le livre est écrit en japonais (monologue intérieur presque sans ponctuation, un hommage direct à l'écrivaine Higuchi Ichiyou, beaucoup de passages en Osaka-ben, entre autres), j'ai compris que le traducteur français a traduit l'histoire, mais qu'il n'a peut-être pas tenté de transférer le style de l'écrivaine en français. Je dois aussi avouer avoir senti l'homme derrière la traduction dans les passages sur le corps féminin et sur les menstruations (iiishhh....). Ceci dit, le traducteur est Patrick Honnoré, dont j'ai lu plusieurs autres traductions, comme l'excellente traduction de Au-delà / Entrée triomphale dans Port-Arthur, de Uchida Hyakken... Je conclus à un accident de parcours, certainement.
September 1, 2023
Now, for a book that is said to be "challenging every preconception about storytelling and prose style" and "paints a portrait of contemporary womanhood in Japan" and, as the interview in "The Guardian" says: "Kawakami has made her name articulating womanhood in Japan better than any living author", I found "乳と卵" not particularly original in its approach to womanhood, gender, or whatever. Maybe I have read too many academic articles on the topic, but, oh, sometimes it even feels like that kind 'talking about a topic and trying to 'liberate' actually makes it a way of reaffirming the status quo' kind of book/work.
Not to say the short novella is bad. Nah, it is good. Natsu receives the visit of her sister (who can't seem to be able to talk about anything but breasts) and niece, Midoriko (who has recently decided to take a vow of silence and only communicates through a notebook). Of course, tensions ensue, as all three women of the novel have 'unfinished business' with themselves, with each other, with society, with how the society views/wants to view/wants them to view them (a particular part of the society, with the dominant, hierarchic status quo trying to decided what they should do with their lives, bodies, etc.). The musings of Natsu are interspersed with little annotations that Midoriko writes in another of her notebooks. Oh, and all is written in a hard to hell to understand sometimes for non-natives/people used to it Kansai-ben (Kansai dialect).
And the result is kind of hypnotic, Kawakami's style throwing the reader in a read that feels as 蒸し暑い as a summer in Japan.
The best: it isn't afraid to go off on a tangent, with beautiful results; the writing style and pace, once used to it, is really captivating
The worst: that unnecessary cathartic moment close to the end; that some reader's expectations might be too high; this book should be read in Japanese (much is sure to be lost in a translation)
Alternatives: Natsuo Kirino?
7/10
(Japanese; original)
Not to say the short novella is bad. Nah, it is good. Natsu receives the visit of her sister (who can't seem to be able to talk about anything but breasts) and niece, Midoriko (who has recently decided to take a vow of silence and only communicates through a notebook). Of course, tensions ensue, as all three women of the novel have 'unfinished business' with themselves, with each other, with society, with how the society views/wants to view/wants them to view them (a particular part of the society, with the dominant, hierarchic status quo trying to decided what they should do with their lives, bodies, etc.). The musings of Natsu are interspersed with little annotations that Midoriko writes in another of her notebooks. Oh, and all is written in a hard to hell to understand sometimes for non-natives/people used to it Kansai-ben (Kansai dialect).
And the result is kind of hypnotic, Kawakami's style throwing the reader in a read that feels as 蒸し暑い as a summer in Japan.
The best: it isn't afraid to go off on a tangent, with beautiful results; the writing style and pace, once used to it, is really captivating
The worst: that unnecessary cathartic moment close to the end; that some reader's expectations might be too high; this book should be read in Japanese (much is sure to be lost in a translation)
Alternatives: Natsuo Kirino?
7/10
(Japanese; original)
June 13, 2023
I read the book in both English and Japanese because when I was trying to compare the English translation with Japanese. Turned out that the two were rather different. Breasts and Eggs, i.e., 乳と卵 is a novella by Kawakami published in 2008 and was awarded the 138th Akutagawa Prize (arguably Japan’s most sought after literary prize). It hasn’t been translated into English.
The English edition is actually translated from Kawakami’s novel Natsumonogatari (tales of a summer), which is a rewritten version of the 2008 novella, featuring the same characters and settings, but it keeps the original title Breasts and Eggs-which I suppose makes sense. The first one is about womanhood, and the protagonist Natsuko contemplates the significance of breasts, the symbol of femininity, and questions societal expectations placed upon women. Another character, Midoriko, who is just one year away from becoming a teenager, is scared of getting her first period and struggles to grapple the meaning of becoming a woman-when you get your period, does it automatically make you a woman? What makes becoming a potential mother so great? Her mother, Makiko, also the bigger sister of Natsuko, is considering getting breast implants because of her job as a hostess at a bar.
The second part jumps 8 years into the future to where Natsuko is now an author. She is still single, has no desire for a relationship, and cannot feel pleasure from sex, so she is researching semen donor options in order to have a child. (To be continued)
The English edition is actually translated from Kawakami’s novel Natsumonogatari (tales of a summer), which is a rewritten version of the 2008 novella, featuring the same characters and settings, but it keeps the original title Breasts and Eggs-which I suppose makes sense. The first one is about womanhood, and the protagonist Natsuko contemplates the significance of breasts, the symbol of femininity, and questions societal expectations placed upon women. Another character, Midoriko, who is just one year away from becoming a teenager, is scared of getting her first period and struggles to grapple the meaning of becoming a woman-when you get your period, does it automatically make you a woman? What makes becoming a potential mother so great? Her mother, Makiko, also the bigger sister of Natsuko, is considering getting breast implants because of her job as a hostess at a bar.
The second part jumps 8 years into the future to where Natsuko is now an author. She is still single, has no desire for a relationship, and cannot feel pleasure from sex, so she is researching semen donor options in order to have a child. (To be continued)
September 8, 2020
3,5. Honnêtement c’est la première fois que je lis une fiction qui traite autant des règles et dans ces détails. Que ce soit le journal de la pré-ado remplis de crainte vis-à-vis des règles et des seins, de la remise en cause de la maternité, de sa mère obsédée par les augmentations mammaires, des scènes de douches communes avec des vieilles, ce livre regorge de descriptions de corps de femmes. Il n’y aucun personnage masculin et le degré de détails est profondément intime (insertion de serviettes hygiéniques et nettoyage de taches de sang notamment). C’est du coup assez intéressant à lire, et même si l’histoire en soi est pas ultra aboutie, j’ai vraiment apprécié l’ambiance globale.
La traduction française m’a un peu sorti du livre parfois (le vocabulaire familier choisi a pas très bien vieilli) et puis bon je pense qu’une traductrice aurait mieux choisi certains termes autour des serviettes hygiéniques et de comment on s’en sert…
J’ai vu pas mal d’articles passer dans la presse anglophone sur ce roman, mais j’ai fini par comprendre qu’en fait la version qui vient de sortir aux USA est une réécriture de cette novella, qui est sortie en France en 2012. Les critiques ont l’air de dire que la novella est mieux que le roman donc bon. Mais du coup, je serais curieux de lire ses autres romans.
La traduction française m’a un peu sorti du livre parfois (le vocabulaire familier choisi a pas très bien vieilli) et puis bon je pense qu’une traductrice aurait mieux choisi certains termes autour des serviettes hygiéniques et de comment on s’en sert…
J’ai vu pas mal d’articles passer dans la presse anglophone sur ce roman, mais j’ai fini par comprendre qu’en fait la version qui vient de sortir aux USA est une réécriture de cette novella, qui est sortie en France en 2012. Les critiques ont l’air de dire que la novella est mieux que le roman donc bon. Mais du coup, je serais curieux de lire ses autres romans.
July 22, 2023
女性はみんな共感できるお話だと思う。
内容:
一つの場面で、「私、胸もっとあればいいのに」っていう発言に対して、胸を大きくする願望が何処から来たのか。男性社会において、男性のために大きくする無意識な考えが生まれているからなのか。という指摘をする友達。それに抗議し、「私は好きで胸を大きくしたいの。じゃ、貴方の「自分の為」って言ってる化粧もその男性社会から生まれたものなんじゃないの？」っていう二人の会話から、
今まで、日本語が得意では無い私は、男性社会で助長される、女性の美や性の説明が上手くできなかったけど、この本ではわかりやすく書かれていて、納得？ってよりもスッキリした。こう言えば伝わるんだーと。いや、美人になりたいだけでそんな深くねーだろって言われそうだけど。
でも、胸がダメで、化粧はOKに疑問をもつのもわかる。どっちも 自分のためなのか、男性のためなのか。
でも、胸という性的な身体の一部分と、アートでもある化粧の違いっていうのも、やはり何かしら重要な差があるのではないのか。が現状の心境。 もちろん自分の体にどうしようが、個人の自由だし口は出さないけど。でも、容姿を変えたいと思う根本的な理由は考えさせられると思う。
胸がある方がいい巻子。反対に、自分に胸や生理など、女性になるための体の変化を厭がる娘の緑子。なんていうか、どの女性もどっちかには共感できると思う。あと、ホステスとして働く巻子への同情もできる。食っていくにはそうしなきゃ行けない。自分の女性性を売って、男性に買われて、生活をする人も社会では多くいる。この本は本当に女性が描いて、女性へのための作品であると思う。男性も読んで損はないし、新しい視点が生まれるのでばないでしょーか。
文体:
表現は結構ストレートに物事を書き納めてるから、何が起こっているのが頭に浮かぶ。���かりやすい。
そのかわり、文章が独特。まず、関西弁。関西の人なら読みやすいのかな？その上、文が長い。「。」で終わるよりかは、句読点で区切られてて、文がズラズラ流れていく感じ。好き嫌いは結構別れると思う。
例えば、この下の文。一回も「。」が使われていない。
シーツを干してもどって来て、なんか食べなと思ってはみても、冷蔵庫には飲み物と茄とドレッシング、味噌ぐらいしかなく、開き戸の内側にはびっしり玉子だけだ並んであって、プラスチックの棚にもパックで十個入りのがまるまる残ってあるだけで、先週に、まだ先に買った分が残ってあることをうっかり忘れて重ね購入したのを思い出して、どっちが腐ってるやろかと日付入りの紙切れを見れば、戸の内側のは賞味期限明日までで、パックの方も明日までで、しかしこのような大量は今日明日での消費は無理、私はパックの方を取り出して流しの脇の置き、生ごみの袋をつくら無いな、と思い、玉子の捨て方はいつも割って中身をほかすか、そのまま投げ入れるかそっと置くのかがようわからない。
音読するのには苦労しますね。でも、案外読んでるとなれるし、内容は個人的に好きだった。
長くなりました。読む人いないと思うけど。
内容:
一つの場面で、「私、胸もっとあればいいのに」っていう発言に対して、胸を大きくする願望が何処から来たのか。男性社会において、男性のために大きくする無意識な考えが生まれているからなのか。という指摘をする友達。それに抗議し、「私は好きで胸を大きくしたいの。じゃ、貴方の「自分の為」って言ってる化粧もその男性社会から生まれたものなんじゃないの？」っていう二人の会話から、
今まで、日本語が得意では無い私は、男性社会で助長される、女性の美や性の説明が上手くできなかったけど、この本ではわかりやすく書かれていて、納得？ってよりもスッキリした。こう言えば伝わるんだーと。いや、美人になりたいだけでそんな深くねーだろって言われそうだけど。
でも、胸がダメで、化粧はOKに疑問をもつのもわかる。どっちも 自分のためなのか、男性のためなのか。
でも、胸という性的な身体の一部分と、アートでもある化粧の違いっていうのも、やはり何かしら重要な差があるのではないのか。が現状の心境。 もちろん自分の体にどうしようが、個人の自由だし口は出さないけど。でも、容姿を変えたいと思う根本的な理由は考えさせられると思う。
胸がある方がいい巻子。反対に、自分に胸や生理など、女性になるための体の変化を厭がる娘の緑子。なんていうか、どの女性もどっちかには共感できると思う。あと、ホステスとして働く巻子への同情もできる。食っていくにはそうしなきゃ行けない。自分の女性性を売って、男性に買われて、生活をする人も社会では多くいる。この本は本当に女性が描いて、女性へのための作品であると思う。男性も読んで損はないし、新しい視点が生まれるのでばないでしょーか。
文体:
表現は結構ストレートに物事を書き納めてるから、何が起こっているのが頭に浮かぶ。���かりやすい。
そのかわり、文章が独特。まず、関西弁。関西の人なら読みやすいのかな？その上、文が長い。「。」で終わるよりかは、句読点で区切られてて、文がズラズラ流れていく感じ。好き嫌いは結構別れると思う。
例えば、この下の文。一回も「。」が使われていない。
シーツを干してもどって来て、なんか食べなと思ってはみても、冷蔵庫には飲み物と茄とドレッシング、味噌ぐらいしかなく、開き戸の内側にはびっしり玉子だけだ並んであって、プラスチックの棚にもパックで十個入りのがまるまる残ってあるだけで、先週に、まだ先に買った分が残ってあることをうっかり忘れて重ね購入したのを思い出して、どっちが腐ってるやろかと日付入りの紙切れを見れば、戸の内側のは賞味期限明日までで、パックの方も明日までで、しかしこのような大量は今日明日での消費は無理、私はパックの方を取り出して流しの脇の置き、生ごみの袋をつくら無いな、と思い、玉子の捨て方はいつも割って中身をほかすか、そのまま投げ入れるかそっと置くのかがようわからない。
音読するのには苦労しますね。でも、案外読んでるとなれるし、内容は個人的に好きだった。
長くなりました。読む人いないと思うけど。
November 7, 2021
Farà una setmana, a l'EOI, vaig descobrir per casualitat que la traductora del llibre que llegia (aquest) treballava allà. Vam xerrar una estona sobre per què traduir del japonès al castellà-català dóna tants problemes i després em va demanar que, un cop acabés el llibre, li digués què m'havia semblat.
És el primer llibre que llegeixo de Kawakami. Formalment no és una meravella i la història no té res de l'altre món, però penso que (malgrat tenir un estil tímid) l'autora et porta on et vol portar. En el meu cas, m'ha semblat veure la cuina dels meus tiets quan descrivia la de la protagonista, a la meva tieta quan parlava de la seva germana i a la meva àvia quan recordava la seva. També m'ha entrat nostàlgia del Japó dosmilero i he tornat a carregar el meu diccionari electrònic per fer-me la xula.
La recomano! És una bona novel·la de cap de setmana. Al principi és una mica lenta, però cal aguantar fins el darrer capítol, que és la millor part del llibre amb diferència!
Apa ja està. Muac.
És el primer llibre que llegeixo de Kawakami. Formalment no és una meravella i la història no té res de l'altre món, però penso que (malgrat tenir un estil tímid) l'autora et porta on et vol portar. En el meu cas, m'ha semblat veure la cuina dels meus tiets quan descrivia la de la protagonista, a la meva tieta quan parlava de la seva germana i a la meva àvia quan recordava la seva. També m'ha entrat nostàlgia del Japó dosmilero i he tornat a carregar el meu diccionari electrònic per fer-me la xula.
La recomano! És una bona novel·la de cap de setmana. Al principi és una mica lenta, però cal aguantar fins el darrer capítol, que és la millor part del llibre amb diferència!
Apa ja està. Muac.
June 5, 2024
J'ai du mal à trouver un intérêt à cette histoire. Je vois l'intention de l'autrice (mêler des générations de femme pour croiser les regards sur la féminité et ses injonctions), mais l'exécution m'a semblé très maladroite. Difficile de juger la qualité d'écriture d'une autrice japonaise que je lis en français, mais c'est très pauvre stylistiquement. Je n'ai rien contre l'écriture parlée (que manient avec brio beaucoup d'écrivains) mais là c'est juste paresseux. Hormis quelques belles formules au début (les jambes longues de la pré ado qui semblent lui avoir "poussé directement du ventre à travers les boyaux", ou "le brun-rouge lavasse et sans âme de ses cheveux (...) comme si toute sa vitalité lui avait goutté par les pointes"), on reste vite sur sa faim niveau prose. Je trouve que ça aurait pu être un très beau instantané de vie familiale, qui creuse la dysphorie adolescente, les névroses, les non dits, la tendresse étouffée de chacune des personnages, mais c'est trop brouillon pour que je sois touchée par cette histoire.
May 11, 2024
Kunne ikke la være å la den forbanna måten å skrive på ødelegge hele leseopplevelsen. Mangel på kapitler er én ting, en annen ting er mangel på punktumer og tegnsettinger. Fikk hjernespasmer av dette, klarte ikke å se årsaken til hvorfor Kawakami valgte en slik alternativ skrivemåte.
Vel, uansett. Hadde store forhåpninger til tematikken, men ble litt let down av hvor kaotisk alt ble fremstilt. Har litt vansker med å sette fingeren på hvorfor 95% av boka handler om pupp, og hvorfor boka plutselig får en vending på seg og begynner å spille rundt på sex, polyforhold og vold?
Ja, det er bare tre karakterer, men jeg har absolutt null kjennskap til dem på et dypere plan. Også.. hele boken dreier seg om Mikos ønskede brystforstørrelse-operasjon, men vi FÅR ALDRI VITE ÅRSAKEN som visstnok skal være så sabla viktig.
Vel, uansett. Hadde store forhåpninger til tematikken, men ble litt let down av hvor kaotisk alt ble fremstilt. Har litt vansker med å sette fingeren på hvorfor 95% av boka handler om pupp, og hvorfor boka plutselig får en vending på seg og begynner å spille rundt på sex, polyforhold og vold?
Ja, det er bare tre karakterer, men jeg har absolutt null kjennskap til dem på et dypere plan. Også.. hele boken dreier seg om Mikos ønskede brystforstørrelse-operasjon, men vi FÅR ALDRI VITE ÅRSAKEN som visstnok skal være så sabla viktig.
January 17, 2019
"Este mes tampoco ha habido fecundación. Tampoco el que viene hay nada previsto. Hablo en voz baja. Creo que debería buscar un lápiz rojo gigante, tan alto como un pilar, más alto que yo, y hacer una cruz en un papel inmenso. Mi conciencia se hunde lentamente en una pesadez lánguida mientras el proceso de renovación de la vida se repite en silencio en el interior de mi cuerpo. Mi voz débil se extingue poco a poco, hasta que dejo de oírla por completo"
August 6, 2016
https://comaujapon.wordpress.com/2016...
Mieko Kawakami parvient dans ce roman à nous plonger dans la tête de Japonaises de deux générations différentes, toutes deux insatisfaites de leurs corps. Elle aborde avec brio les relations conflictuelles que peuvent exister entre une mère et sa fille, et le tout, bien qu’il semble en apparence superficiel, est en réalité très profond.
Mieko Kawakami parvient dans ce roman à nous plonger dans la tête de Japonaises de deux générations différentes, toutes deux insatisfaites de leurs corps. Elle aborde avec brio les relations conflictuelles que peuvent exister entre une mère et sa fille, et le tout, bien qu’il semble en apparence superficiel, est en réalité très profond.
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