Up early this morning to finish this gem. I wish there were more Toshiyuki Horie books that had been translated to English!
Up early this morning to finish this gem. I wish there were more Toshiyuki Horie books that had been translated to English!
Personal sadness. Was there any other kind? Wasn‘t sadness something that everyone had to endure individually? Just like anger. The idea that you can share anger or sadness with others is nothing more, really, than a compelling illusion. We can only communicate the pain we feel on an individual level.
A small collection of three stories. These stories are so quiet, it's easy to think they're insubstantial. No drama & no plot; these are like whispers, or the sound of waves as they recede from the shore. It was a bit like entering a dream world—a word or an action leads to memories, or to the imagination taking flight. Loss, nostalgia, & a melancholic, bittersweet feeling pervade throughout, but I still felt strangely nourished when I finished.