Strange Weather in Tokyo by Hiromi Kawakami — a toast to love
Strange Weather in Tokyo is not the book to read when you are feeling peckish. Japanese snacks and dishes feature on almost every page, often described in extensive and mouthwatering detail. There’s also a fair amount of sake and beer imbibed on those occasions.
Thin almost transparent slices of octopus were submerged in a gently boiling pot of water then immediately plucked out with chopsticks when they rose to the surface. Dipped in ponzu sauce , the sweetness of the octopus melted in your mouth with the ponzu’s citrus aroma, creating a flavour that was quite sublime.
The eating and drinking form a background to a thoughtful, poignant tale about an unusual friendship between Tsukiko Omachi, a single woman in her late thirties, and Harutsuna Matsumoto, who is a widower in his late sixties/early seventies.
Omachi is capricious and quirky but somewhat a loner — she lives alone, doesn’t seem to have any friends and though her family live nearby she seldom visits. Mastumoto is reserved, thoughtful and always neatly-dressed (he even wears a suit and carries a briefcase to go mushroom hunting).
Their paths cross because they frequent the same small bar near a Tokyo station, often ordering the exact same dishes and drinks. But they never speak to each other or to anyone else except the bar tender.
One day Matsumoto breaks the silence, asking if she is really Tsukiko Omachi, one of the students he taught at secondary school. That encounter marks the beginning of a relaxed and informal friendship — they rarely plan to meet and weeks can go by without any contact but they’re always happy when they unexpectedly see each other in the street or at the bar.
Matsumoto is old-fashioned, didactic and precise in his habits. He reproaches Tsukiko for her poor knowledge of Japanese poetry (she was not a good student in his class); for the unsuitability of her clothes, her inelegant way of serving noodles and her unladylike behaviour— the way she pours beer for example. Periodically he’ll advise her not to drink any more sake.
Tsukiko doesn’t take offence however, seeing in his disapproving comments, the gentle hand of a teacher —in fact she never calls him by his name, only by the title of Sensei (the Japanese word for teacher). She loves to hear him recount haiku poetry and to see the array of plastic teapots he collected from railway stations during work trips away.
His benevolent nature seemed to originate from his sense of fair-mindedness. It wasn’t about being kind to me; rather, it was born from a teacherly attitude of being willing to listen to my opinion without prejudice. I found this considerably more wonderful than him just being nice to me.”
A fragile bond slowly develops between this pair. Though Tsukiko tries to keep her distance after she and Matsumoto have had a disagreement, she is drawn inexorably back to him each time.
Strange Weather in Tokyo is a charming tale of love that develops in unexpected quarters. Kurakami’s prose is subtle and restrained yet full of meaning. Her principal characters are fascinating portraits of people who follow the rituals of Japanese society yet also seem alienated from it.
We see this most particularly with Tsukiko whose alcohol consumption puts her more on a level with Japanese men than women. This struck me as odd based on (admittedly limited) knowledge of Japanese culture, and expectations of behaviour by the female members of society.
I kept wondering why Kawakami made her character drink alone in bars so often. I thought at first it was intended to signify that Tsukiko is a modern woman who defies convention but then began to feel that alcohol is a coping strategy for this young woman.
She does admit she can’t cope with adult hood and has become “quite a childlike person” over the years, one who gets emotional at times. She cries when she peels an apple, sinks into sudden silence because Matsumoto supports a baseball team she detests and walks off in a huff when they visit an island together. Is it life itself she struggles with, or relationships?
I don’t know I’m reading too much into this but the fact I’m asking these questions shows that this is a book which might appear to be just a simple story of romance but actually has a lot more depth and nuance. Actually now I think about it, many of the other books by Japanese authors that I’ve read have an outward simplicity and an inner subtlety. Whether that’s a characteristic of Japanese literature, I’ll leave other more experienced readers, to judge.
Strange Weather in Tokyo by Hiromi Kawakami: Endnotes
Strange Weather in Tokyo was originally published in 2001 and then released in translation in 2012 as The Bookcase ( one of the chapter titles). That was the title under which it was shortlisted for the Man Asian Literary Prize. It was then released in the UK by Portobello Books in 2013 under its current title. My 2020 edition translated by Allison Markin Powell was published by Granta.
This is the second book I’ve read by Hiromi Kawakami. Our bookclub read People From The Neighbourhood in 2022, universally deciding that it was an intriguing but very odd book. Strange Weather in Tokyo is much more enjoyable, so much so that I’ll be looking out for more of Kawakami’s work.
Oooh, I appreciate the heads up re: the food! There’s nothing worse than trying to read when I’m hungry, and it’s 100x worse when the book describes incredible food. I’ve had this one on my to-read shelf for ages, now I’ll know to make sure I fill up my tummy before I pull it out!
Some of the dishes are not to my taste but I loved the idea of going to a bar and being able to order some delicious snacks – all we get offered in the UK are packets of crisps!
I love Japanese food but I am quite an adventurous eater. I remember eating a beetle in Africa which horrified my husband. I’ll try anything once. 😂
I have actually had a copy of this buried away in my Kindle for ages. I enjoyed reading your review, it sounds like a really lovely novel. I too have read Japanese novels that have been written with great subtly.
I have so many books buried on my Kindle app, it’s embarrassing
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I put a bunch of books on hold at the library for Japanese Lit Month and this one just became available! I’m looking forward to reading it.
It’s a long time since I read this one but I do remember enjoying it very much although The Nakano Thrift Shop is my favourite of hers.
That will be next on my reading list of her work in that case
Hope you enjoy it, Karen. Her short stories are very different, quite surreal, but I know you’re not a fan.
Not on topic, but I have just published my take on Wanderlust Bingo. It’s here … https://margaret21.com/2023/12/29/wanderlust-bingo/
I agree with you about “an outward simplicity and an inner subtlety”. Japanese books, the few that I have read, seem to always have a lot going on under the surface. I must read more.
I gave my librarian cousin What you are looking for is in the Library by Michiko Aoyama for christmas but she lives in another state.
I read the Portobello edition back in 2014 and loved how it showed our deep human need for companionship, connection and love. All the modern Japanese novels I’ve read seem to be about alienation and isolation, and that applies to this book too. Unfortunately all the food references in this one annoyed me! (BTW, I think it was published in the US under the title The Suitcase.)
Even though just reading your review makes me hungry already, I really need to read the book soon!
At least you will be prepared and maybe have a snack by your side as you read
I read this one year for the Japanese Literary Challenge and enjoyed it a lot. My husband liked it too, he was the one who got me interested in Japanese literature. I had forgotten how much food played a part, although I do remember the bars.
I haven’t come across that many people who have read it so delighted to find there are other fans
Oh, this does sound tempting. Books that can engage on several levels always offer something different, and the food descriptions, whether appetising or not will give quite an insight into Japanese culture.
Some of the menu items were not to my taste – I don’t think I would get that excited about octopus – but some of the snacks were appealing
You wouldn’t have been on side with the small boy I saw in Spain once, dancing ahead of his grandmother and singing (in Spanish of course!) ‘Octopus for sup-per! Octopus for sup-per’ with enormous glee 😉
We had a similar experience in La Rochelle many years ago. A. family came into the restaurant and the little boy (about 8 yrs I guessed0 spontaneously exclaimed with glee when he saw the plats de fruits de mer everyone was eating. Imagine an 8 year in Britain doing the same thing?? They’d probably be yelling to be taken to McDonalds
ExACTly!
This does sound really enjoyable, thanks for the heads up – might be a good one for Japanese Lit Month in January!
Oh yes I forgot that is coming up soon.