Image credit: Victoria Ford / Penguin
It’s official: Japanese fiction is the most popular form of translated literature in the UK. Of the 2 million works of translated fiction were sold in Britain last year, a quarter overall (and half of the top-selling titles) were Japanese.
There are several strong traditions in Japanese fiction, from the kawaii (weird but cute) to the quiet and restrained, to the sinister and surprising. Our list of some of the best works to start with includes examples of them all.
This popular bestseller in Japan is firmly on the side of warmth and joy, highlighting the power of books and blending the comforting qualities of a classic with the accessible style of much modern Japanese fiction. It is set in a “Community House” where the library is run by Sayuri Komachi. The town’s citizens come to Sayuri with their problems – such as a retired man who realises he has no friends – and her reading recommendations take their lives in unexpected directions. This is not a saccharine book, but one steeped in humanity and wisdom, rather like a literary Repair Shop . (Translated by Alison Watts)
“Life is a dangerous business, you know,” says one of the many characters this essential anthology, which covers Japanese fiction from the 19th century to the present day. And he’s right: in this collection, featuring an introduction by Haruki Murakami , we get tales about a mountain witch, ritual disembowelment, seeking revenge in a lift, and more. Stories are grouped by theme, to illustrate how approaches to topics like gender in Japanese fiction have changed over the years, including one eye-opening predictor of #MeToo from 1957. But the stories themselves are also great standalone reading experiences, and who can resist an opening like this? “He drifted off, and when he opened his eyes the woman was still there.” Now, read on. (Various translators)
If it seems like a good time for a dystopian novel , well, that’s because it has always seemed like a good time. But this huge critical and commercial hit, published in Japan almost 30 years ago, is particularly piquant in our world of short memories, where the constant renewals of online life make it easy to forget. The Memory Police is set on an island where things keep disappearing, alongside memories of the things themselves, and where the police eradicate all traces of what has gone. Who are the Memory Police? The authorities? Other people? Ourselves? This novel combines an Orwellian idea with a dark dreaminess that is typical of the best Japanese literature. (Translated by Stephen Snyder)
This Japanese bestseller – which has also been made into a film and manga comic – uses magical realism to talk about the very real social phenomenon of futoko : children who stop going to school. For seven futoko , their bedroom mirrors start glowing at the start of the school day, and through them they can enter a castle (guarded by a wolf) where wishes are granted. The castle is a safe space for these isolated children, particularly Kokoro, whose experience is at the centre of the story. This is a novel of raw emotional force, where the castle represents the pleasures and risks of life. (Kokoro, after all, means “heart”.) (Translated by Philip Gabriel)
Ogawa is not only one of Japan’s most acclaimed writers, but also one of the most highly versatile, having written dystopian fiction (The Memory Police , as mentioned above), murder stories (Revenge The Housekeeper and the Professor (Translated by Stephen Snyder)
This selection from the Penguin Book of Japanese Short Stories features the original Japanese text alongside the English translation, making it perfect for those keen to further explore Japanese language and literature. Highlights include Hoshi Shin’ichi’s Shoulder-Top Secretary , about a parrot trying to sell an electric spider (ideal for scratching those hard-to-reach places), Mieko Kawakami’s Dreams of Love, Etc. , where an earthquake brings neighbours together, and Uchida Hyakken’s Kudan , about the trials of being a cow with a human face. Japanese literature in all its eccentricity, comedy, darkness and emotion is represented in this ten-story collection. (Various translators)
This novel is a great place to start with Haruki Murakami , Japan’s most popular literary export. It was his breakthrough book, and you can see why: it’s less bizarre and head-spinning than some of his other works, focusing instead on a man whose memories of a past love – and its tragic ending – come flooding back to him when he hears the Beatles song Norwegian Wood . “When I was in the scene I hardly paid it any attention,” he says, yet now he can think of nothing else. Murakami deals with big issues – including predatory behaviour, suicide and grief – with a light touch. “Memory is a funny thing,” the narrator observes. You can say that again. (Translated by Jay Rubin)
Riffing on Ernest Hemingway ’s legendary stories of the same name, this collection of short fiction gives us bite-sized pieces from a writer best known for his novels. Murakami brings in many of the motifs we know from his other books – cats, jazz, troubled love affairs – but, in addition to Hemingway, also plays with other famous stories, from Kafka’s Metamorphosis The Arabian Nights Drive My Car , which became a multi-award-winning film. (Translated by Philip Gabriel and Ted Goossen)
Japan has a strong tradition of crime fiction, and there are few better or more dramatic than this 1997 novel by “the queen of Japanese crime”, about four women who take revenge on their men in the most grotesque way imaginable. (“What are you going to do with the head ?”) The story follows their exploits in murder, body disposal and blackmail, with Kirino ramping up the action and tension even as she uses the story to depict the difficulties facing women in Japanese society. (Translated by Stephen Snyder)
If one strain of Japanese fiction distinguishes itself by its strangeness, then nobody does it better – or weirder – than Kobo Abe , with his novels about men in boxes, women in sand, and more. But this novel might be his wildest flight of fancy. The concerns of The Ark Sakura are contemporary to its time of publication in 1984: an underground nuclear bunker becomes a hiding place for a man known as Mole, who seeks others to join him. It also incorporates several of Abe’s regular themes including obsession, psychological torment and sexual outrage. Populated by giant toilets, legless beetles and more, this is a book entirely unlike any other – except perhaps another Abe novel. (Translated by Juliet Winters Carpenter)
