A pair of two Japanese novellas about, well, I guess about not being engaged in life, and having spiraled inwards, even when making connections to others. The first, a just-met pair stay at a love hotel for five days, then separate. The second, a wife lays in bed in her mouldy apartment, reading blogs online and thinking about her husband. The first novella takes place during Bush II years and it was like “Oh yeah, Bush. Lot’s of bad stuff happened then.” I’d forgotten about all that in the waves and waves of all the new bad stuff that’s happened in the meantime. The second is more unmoored in time, even within the story which sort of floats around the way my thoughts float around when I, too, can’t be bothered to put the effort in to get out of bed. Or like now, when it’s humid and I’m sleepy and I feel as detached from life as the characters I read about in The End of the Moment We Had.
It’s a very disorienting feeling after having read these stories; I’ve disassociated myself from all I suppose.
The End of the Moment We Had by Toshiki Okada went on sale September 4, 2018.
I received a copy free from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.