[ad_1]
But that sarcasm doesn’t prevent them from judging others privately based on their weight, age, clothing, and social norms. At the novel’s first major turning point, on a summer’s day, he sees his reflection in a sunken and disheveled window. “What I saw in the reflection was myself,” he observes, “a miserable woman who cannot enjoy herself alone in the city on such a glorious day.” Soon after, Fuyuko tries to imitate Hijiri’s alcohol consumption by slowly but deliberately forcing herself to drink beer and sake to unwind, or “let go of my usual self,” as she puts it. In a drunken attempt to improve, Fuyuko enrolls in classes at a university and ends up throwing up in the main hall. There, he is rescued by Mitsutsuka, a male physics teacher. The two form a temporary friendship, meeting weekly to discuss Chopin’s “Berceuse” and the properties of light, until a quiet, seemingly mutual attraction develops. Outside of these meetings, Fuyuko continues to adapt to freelancing by drinking lots of drinks.
The protagonist of “All the Lovers in the Night” has a wit when handling these romantic and professional changes in her life. By including alcoholism among them, Kawakami skips the crap of stale “flare-up” narratives and keeps Fuyuko as a cipher: still awkward and miserable for much of the novel, but better suited to the fake offers and self-inflicted hypocrisy that people endure. its gender.
Later in the book, her reunion with Kyoko is laced with delicious irony as her friend’s congratulations on Fuyuko’s new career autonomy turn into a critique of Hijiri for pursuing the same. “There are a lot of people who want to stand out, vying for attention,” Kyoko says, “which creates more problems for the rest of us. But you don’t have to worry about that because you’re not like that.” Kyoko attributes her assertiveness to her good looks, repeating the rumors about Hijiri’s sex life (“she can’t control herself”). “Those who love everything like her,” she says, “put a lot of pressure on the women around them. … She convinced all the men and all her colleagues that the women in the office should follow his example and look beautiful while doing it.” Soon after Kyoko denounces Hijiri, it is revealed that their shared perfume choices tie them to the same beauty standard.
Yet what makes Kawakami’s novel so brilliant is the understanding of why women can willingly cling to regressive forms of performative femininity, even when criticizing them. The desire to be loved is no small thing. Fuyuko is skeptical of a life shrinking with gendered expectation – at one point, a childhood friend tells Fuyuko that motherhood robs her of her financial independence and sense of self, while in the same breath encourages Fuyuko to have children – and yet, the lure of a life with Mitsutsuka enough to try it. Influenced by recurring dreams, perhaps where a version of herself lives in blissful family bliss but then transforms into Hijiri, Fuyuko attends her first (and last) official date with Mitsutsuka, dressed in Hijiri’s outfits, hair-shed and make-up.
The tragedy that culminates in “All the Lovers in the Night” is not Mitsutsuka’s disturbing statement after that date, but a silent, brutal phrase from Hijiri that deliberately reflects the trauma that Fuyuko experienced in her youth. While Kawakami’s novel is uncompromisingly candid in its assessment of the harm women do to one another, it never loses sight of the inclusive structures that led them to do so in the first place. Compact and flexible, it’s a surprisingly clever feat.
[ad_2]
Source link