Breasts and Eggs: A powerful and intimate novel about what it means to be a woman in modern Japan

loveeee meiko kawakami, wonderful book

Breasts and Eggs is a Tokyo-based story set in two different parts. The first section (Breasts) follows the narrator Natsuko as she is visited by her older sister Makiko and her teenage niece Midoriko. Makiko has come to Tokyo to look into breast augmentation surgery, and Midoriko is having a hard time with this, alongside all the other horrors of being a young teenage girl on the verge of a whole load of body/hormonal changes. The second part of the book (Eggs) follows Natsuko on her own, around 10 years later, as she continues to pursue her career of being an author and looks into finally having her own child via IVF which is complicated in itself as a single woman. This story was just so interesting and well-written with a character who I felt was peeled back and revealed to us layer by layer as she continue to dive into the core of her being, and examining her wishes and desires. First off, the translation of this book is really excellent. I'm no expert by any means but I found it just so easy to read, the language and writing flowed really, really well. Absolutely seamless. I thought the exploration of Natsuko in this book was so thought-provoking and hard-hitting as well as just all kinds of raw. The book very much explores what it means to be a woman, particularly in Japanese society, and everything that comes with that mark of being a woman - being young and beautiful, and if not young, making yourself look as perfect as you can through beauty treatments and invasive surgery. The fears of growing older but also just growing up - how terrifying it can be to be on the periphery of girl to woman, and knowing all the different things your body will go through for years and years, and feeling disconnected from that body somehow because of the horror of it all. And then making decisions about motherhood, how womanhood and being a mother are linked in different ways whether you have a child, or remain childless. How it can define you even if you don't want it to. One of the things I found very interesting was the discussions around IVF/sperm donation and women choosing to have children without a partner. I didn't know there was so much red tape for single women who wanted to have a child and the sometimes dangerous ways women would have to choose to have a child via sperm donation if they want one. Loads of big questions here too around the population of the world and if it's ethical to have any children at all seeing as no-one asks to be born. You can take a lot from that, and everyone will probably have a different opinion. Natsuko goes through a lot in this book, and I feel like we just see her on the edge of a lot of things all the time. I just wanted her to keep going, and trying and believing in herself. I always felt like she could give a little bit more to everything. I did think for a while this would be a 5-star read for me but it did lose me near the end, as I felt just a little bit fatigued by the story I think. I also did miss the inclusion of Makiko and Midoriko in the later story as I felt like they were so interesting in the first half and they both had great but different dynamics with Natsuko.

The anti-heroine in Kawakami’s whimsically and provocatively titled novel is centred on a budding writer, whose real name, Natsuko Natsume is often wrongly assumed to be a pseudonym. Much else is misunderstood about Natsu, such as her wish to be a single parent via artificial insemination from a sperm donor. Natsu has ruled out having a baby in the “conventional” manner, as she is adverse to sex, having had a broken relationship because of it. Perhaps her impoverished background and abandonment of the family by her father are contributing factors to her views on marriage and family, though this is not a link the author makes explicit. Natsu’s biological clock is ticking, even as she struggles career-wise to realise her dreams of writing more than one measly novel to make a living and wonders about the practicalities of having another mouth to feed. As such, this novel appears to be somewhat of a feminist manifesto that reclaims the woman’s autonomy and her own body’s reproductive rights against societal norms and expectations. But partway through the novel, complications enter Natsu’s life, in the form of Aizawa, a donor-conceived child, now an adult looking for his progenitor. He alerts Natsu to the implications on her future child’s life if she should proceed on this venture. Is it not selfish to deprive a child of a relationship with her father? What ensues is a series of philosophical and ethical debates between them and other viewpoints from the people in Natsu’s life as she comes to reconsider her decision. What appears to move a little predictably (no spoilers here) is somewhat thwarted by a sleight of hand, which, to me, was a little forced, as if Kawakami was too determined for her novel to stay the course against type, in its conclusion. Nonetheless, this was an interesting-enough novel, though I was not as fully engaged in it as I has thought I would be.

This book is about feminine struggle, not in a boohoo shrinking violet kind of way but in a hilarious-despite-all-the-trauma way, as these stunted injured female characters manage to overcome their obstacles and demons and find their power. Natsuko Natsume is a 30-yr old writer in Tokyo, she's single and not into mingling. Her older sister Makiko is a single mom to daughter Midoriko in Osaka. Natsu and Makiko's mother raised them with the help of her own mother, after their dad left. When Natsu was 13 her mother died, then her grandmother died 2 years later, and through it all her big sister tried her best to take care of her. As a big sister myself, as a mom of daughters, as a woman with women in my life I connect with, this book hit all!my!buttons! This book is written with such feral honesty, which comes across all the moreso considering the setting is Japan, where women are typically presented as perfect, pretty, young, good, and happy. It comes as such a freaking relief to read about women who are self-aware enough to figure out how they want to be, and own it. I could not believe how hard I laughed at the part when Makiko was obsessed with breast implants, laughing but also cringing in terror for her. I love that there is an element of low-level hysteria or insanity humming throughout this book, it makes for suspense, realism, and truly happy endings. It is a good message to send, that people can survive periods of craziness, and come out all the better for it in the end. Extra points for just plain feminism like this: "So, basically, to become a Buddha, you have to be reborn as a man first. What the hell is that?" Another thing I loved about this book was all the characteristic detail evoking life in Japan, that could never be mistaken for another country. The train lines and the stations, your local okonomiyaki stand, the feelings the smells the procedure at the public bath, pressing the home button on the phone! I am so glad I got assigned this to read for a book club discussion, otherwise I would have stopped reading Kawakami after Heaven, which was a bit heavy handed for me.

If you are looking for a heavily-plotted story, this probably isn’t for you, as the novel unfolds at a gradual pace and contains many digressions – mostly in the form of anecdotes told by characters as they meet Natsu in a vivid assortment of Tokyo locations. Although it may seem as if not much is happening, there are weighty questions about birth and death, loneliness, grief and the place of women in contemporary society bubbling just beneath the surface of the story. There is something uniquely beautiful about the ever-shifting mood of the novel as it undulates between joy and sadness, resistance and acceptance, alienation and intimacy. Natsu is constantly seeking answers and searching for the meaning of her life, and women’s lives, at a time when we are freer to make our own choices than we have ever been before. The patriarchy is a character always hovering ominously in the background; although the story is based almost entirely around women, there are flashes of male violence and hints of the emotional damage left by men, including Natsu’s father. There are ‘good’ male characters too, most of whom appear near the end of Book Two, but their inclusion is purely functional and if anything, weakens the story. This is perhaps because the feminist core of the novel is so powerful that it obliterates any hope for strong male character development. Visually and emotionally, Breasts and Eggs is a breath-taking exploration of the female experience, filled with acute questions on the nature of birth, life and death but easily digestible thanks to its dreamy, laid-back pacing. Even its flaws – like the unevenness in tone and few-too-many digressions – add something to its uniqueness; it could’ve been streamlined to be more cohesive but would have lost some of its charm in the process. In essence, it is a book about spiritual growth and the associated pain that comes with it, told through vivid characters and situations grounded in profound truth. narrator-blog.com

Great

I kind of enjoyed this book but at times found it hard going. However, something compelled me to finish it. I am glad I did because in the end I wanted to know the outcome. It did seem too long a book at times although I warmed to the characters and cared what happened to them. Overall, I would say I enjoyed it because it was unlike anything I had read before and I am interested in the Japanese culture, even though it was based on a poor dysfunctional family. I do feel I got some insight into their world.

This is one of the best books I've ever read. There are many powerful scenes and dialogues that really moved me. The book explores political and ethical questions in such a visceral and humane way it doesn't feel preachy/didactic at all. When I first read the blurb I was worried I wasn't sufficiently interested in the issues it dealt with to be able to truly enjoy it, but as I started reading, I was moved to care. I'll be reading this author's other books - evidently she'll be able to move me to care about whatever else she decides to write about

Gave it to my hs friend and she told me its a good book, I think its good too. Gonna read this soon

Meiko Kawakami's novel, Breasts and Eggs, is her first to be published in English. The publisher, Europa Editions, says that it will be publishing two more, Heaven and The Night Belongs to Lovers. Let's start with the book's title. The original title is Natsumonogatari, which could be translated as A Summer Story. Because the character telling her story is named Natsuko, a pun is buried in the title, which similar to the Genji Monogatari might also be read as The Tale of Natsu[ko]. Be that as it may, Breasts and Eggs is both appropriate more tempting title than A Summer Story. In Book One, Natsuko's older sister Makiko comes up to Tokyo from Osaka in the summer with her daughter Midoriko intent on obtaining breast enlargement surgery, staying with Natsuko. In Book Two, ten years later, Natsuko—single, childless, now economically secure, and pushing forty—begins to consider having a child. There are two problems with this impulse: Natsuko finds sexual intercourse worse than distasteful. She tried it in her late teens, early twenties with a boyfriend, so coitus is out. Also Japanese society discourages single women from having artificial insemination. It exists, but it's for married couples who cannot have a child. Natsuko is 29 in Book One; Makiko is 39; and Midoriko is 12 (and communicates with her mother and aunt only in writing; she'll talk to her friends but not to her mother). The girls grew up in Osaka in a cramped and gloomy apartment over an izakaya. One day when Natsuko came home from elementary school, her layabout father was gone and they never saw him again. They moved in with grandmother and mother worked a couple jobs and in a bar. Mom died when Natsuko, was 13 and two years later grandmother died. At the beginning of Breasts and Eggs Natsuko has been living in Tokyo, working in a bookstore to support herself with ambitions of being a writer. Makiko is a single mother working as a bar hostess having made an unfortunate and short-lived marriage. The novel is worth reading for several reasons. Kawakami is able to covey Natsuko's daily life, family history and relationships, her friendships, and the—I guess—texture of her lived experience. We know who she is, what she wants, why she wants it. And we can understand why her sister could want improved breasts. The book also conveys a sharp picture of a contemporary Japanese life. This is what it is like to live as this aspiring woman in Japan today. Is Natsuko typical? Probably not. Is she representative? Probably not. Is she Japanese? Absolutely. In Book One Kawakami does allow the reader access to information Natsuko doesn't have. These are the entries from her 12-year-old niece's journal, thoughts like: "It feels like I'm trapped inside my body. It decides when I get hungry, and when I'll get my period. From birth to death, you have to keep eating and making money just to stay alive. I see what working every night does to my mom. It takes it out of her. But what's it all for. Life is hard enough with just one body. Why would anyone want to make another one? . . ." The book is more than the sisters' dilemmas about their breasts and eggs. At one point, Natsuko and a writer friend talk about dialect in fiction. The friend says that in Osaka she heard "these three women just talking, a million miles an hour, getting everything in there. There was so much going on. Multiple perspectives, mixed tenses, the whole shebang. They were cracking up, but they were having a real conversation. Nothing like on TV. Everything on TV is tailored for TV . . . What gets me is how writing always fails to capture it. Like, the way those three women were talking. I mean, you couldn't reproduce that performance on the page and get the same dynamic . . ." Sam Bett, a prize-winning translator, and David Boyd, an assistant professor Japanese at the University of North Carolina, translated Breasts and Eggs. The translation is, as I hope my two short quotes indicate, smooth and resourceful ("shebang"!). They did not translate every Japanese term—izakaya, mugicha, okonomiyaki, tanto—which means they did not have to slow a sentence down by explaining, and the context provides the approximate meaning for readers who have no Japanese at all. The jacket flap copy says "Kawakami, who exploded onto the cultural scene first as a musician, then as a poet and popular blogger, is now one of Japan's most important and best-selling writers." Based on Breasts and Eggs, she should be

Livré en bon état, hate de le lire

Poor condition, edge is creased

Prodotto come da foto, bella lettura. Consegna puntuale.