Tokyo Ueno Station: A Novel

Kazu is a ghost hovering around the homeless park where he spent the last years of his life. He has many regrets even though he chose the life he lived and did what he thought he had to do to support his family. His mother told him that he was unlucky which he seems to have translated to her meaning he was a loser.We learn what it was like to be homeless in Ueno and we read tiny slivers of nearby Japanese history. Extremely tiny. Kazu floats from place to place through his sad ghostly thoughts that don't seem particularly connected and can be unexpected.An interesting, but sad read as we insert ourselves into the ghostly thoughts of a man who regretted too much.

"Tokyo Ueno Station" by Yu Miri with poetic translation by Morgan Giles reveals a common theme in my reading choices: do not read the flap because the author wants to reveal their secrets gradually. You will also receive a boost if you read up on Japanese history because the fantastical elements of literature enable the protagonist to float in and out of the most significant moments in a century of Japan as we know it.First off, the author makes the intriguing choice to have no chapters. Things keep moving in a surrealist fashion, and we learn more about Japan than we ever imagined. The American Firebombing of Tokyo in 1945 does not exist in the average American's consciousness, for example. Miri endures all of this while coming to grips with the mortality of those around him, including his children.Just as Japanese culture remains underrepresented in our minds, Buddhism's traditions remain a mystery to most of us. Proper reading of a bodhisattva, a person who could "pass on" to the next level but remains to help those who suffer in this world, provides a new perspective to mourning. When they go back and forth between the political and personal, you start to wonder what is going on in the other storyline.I expected that the spoiled identity of the narrator would ruin parts of the story. Still, I enjoyed the narrator's humanity as he reminisces with "residents" of the train station to show how much life can weigh on us. It takes on a very stream-of-consciousness approach, which answers many questions about the afterlife as the author sees it while showing how eternity may not have some of the perks that we envision.The story meanders into its best territory with meditations on what it means to have no home in Japan and how we manage to take away from people who already have so little. How did they get there? How would they absorb the normal tragedies that take place around them? As with most literature problems, the writer chooses to inform you through exposure without asserting any answers.

The “haves” in this world tend to treat the “have-nots” as invisible. Their mute desperation makes us uncomfortable, so we look through them. Kazu Mori, the narrator of <i>Tokyo Ueno Station,</i> is literally invisible. He is dead, his spirit seemingly fated to linger among the homeless people who come and go through the train station and memorial park where he met his end.Kazu recounts a life of hardship and personal tragedy. Born in 1933, the same year as the Emperor, he took any sort of job he could get to support his family, most notably helping to construct facilities for the 1964 Olympics. Now, estranged from his survivors, he watches as authorities launch a campaign to clear homeless people out of the park in preparation for a visit by the royal family. Meanwhile, he eavesdrops on the conversations of people in transit and recounts Japanese history through the words of another homeless man who used to befriend him.In this small, spare book of only 180 pages, the author manages to say a great deal in few words about poverty, loss and despair. Rather than whining about his condition, Kazu seems to be a mere observer of it. “I thought that once I was dead, I would be reunited with the dead,” he says. “I thought something would be resolved by death … But then I realized I was back in the park. I was not going anywhere, I had not understood anything, I was still stunned by the same numberless doubts, only I was now outside life looking in …”I love the wistful tone of this book and the characters who come and go through Kazu’s world. Despite several instances of offensive language, author Yu Miri deserves acclaim for her poignant narration.

Tokyo Ueno Station takes the reader into the life of an itinerant worker in post 1945 Japan. After a series of family tragedies and deaths, including the demises of his 21-year-old son and his wife, he leaves his home and becomes homeless in Ueno Park, Tokyo. Turning to suicide, he becomes a spirit, observing people who cannot see or hear him, and inhabiting other lives vicariously. The author's depictions of religious ceremonies, sceneries across the islands of Hokkaido and Honshu, meals, whether shared or unshared, and interpersonal relationships, represent a veritable cross-cultural feast.

El libro es muy único. Sientes que te vuelves parte de cómo el vagabundo percibe al mundo y cómo el tiempo pasa. Al inicio me pareció un poco lento pero es muy bueno.

This was a quick read with an interesting premise, the translation is great and captures the spirit of the story well.

Un romanzo originale, realistico, crudo ma mai volgare

英訳版が全米図書賞を受賞したと言うので、その理由を知りたくて読んで見た。思わず音読してしまった程、心に沁みとおる英文なのだ。その点では、日本語版より訴えかける力が強いと思う。良い訳者に出会えた事が、本作品に全米図書賞をもたらした事は否めないだろう。同時に、英訳版でも心に沁みとおると言うことは、作品で描かれる場所や時代を超える普遍性を本作品が持っていると言うことになるのだろう。「疲れていない時はなかった。人生に追われて生きていた時も、人生から逃れて生きてしまった時も――――――。はっきりと終わることなく、ただ生きていた気がする。でも、終わった。」。本作品の原文（日本語版）の一節である。主人公の一生涯が、端的に示されている。国境を越え、言語を超え、普遍的に問われ続ける主題だ。そして、福島県浜通りの寒村の貧農、出稼ぎ、高度成長、ホームレス、天皇制、様々な問題が、エピソードとして絡まりながら展開して行く。主人公の生涯を綴るには不可欠の素材だが、米国人に理解できるかと言えば疑問だ。主人公も、出稼ぎを続けながら、家庭を持ち、子供を育て上げ、60歳で出稼ぎ生活を終え、妻と娘から、仙台で一番の百貨店で買った還暦祝いの腕時計を貰う所まで来たのだ。高度成長のオコボレを細やかながらも得て幸せな老後に入ろうとしていたのだ。息子と妻の死がなければと、言うことも出来るだろう。息子と妻の死があったとしても、家を出て、孤独なホームレス生活に入る必然性は無い。リアルに見えながら、実際には存在しえない人物と、その生活を描きながら、やはりその時代にその場所に確かに存在したであろう一つの生涯、この部分があるからこそ米国人の共感を呼ぶことが出来たのかもしれない。

I previewed the first couple of pages and was instantly hooked. The writing draws you into a very real, impactful story that leaves you with thoughts of home and family; of gratitude for the things and the people in your life.