密やかな結晶 (小川洋子 Book Club)

Ending discussion

I don’t think I necessarily found the end of this book ambiguous. The central character lives in a world of steady disappearances, gradually her own body disappears until she vanishes completely. Most humans on the island meet the same fate, but a few are immune to the effects. They are initially repressed, but by the end of the story they can emerge to rebuild their lives.

I think early in the book I had hoped we would get more exposition on the forces behind the disappearances. The fact there was a memory police implied that there was a powerful state controlling what was happening as part of repressing their population. We also had some insight that some humans may carry a genetic trait that meant they weren’t affected in the same way by the disappearances.

But in the end we were just left in the dark about what happened to this society. Whether this was a natural phenomenon, the work of aliens, the work of a sorcerer, or the science of an evil genius - we will never know. And as interesting as it would have been to know, I suspect it might have been an anticlimax. I don’t mind that we don’t understand the “why” of what was going in the background. I’m happy just to accept the element of magical realism and focus on the effects it has on our central characters. Although I would love to know what process might make all the birds disappear, or certain flowers to all die at the same time!

It’s a tragic ending for our main character. We hoped she might find some redemption, that the connection with R and the hidden objects might bring back her memory. But this is Ogawa and I don’t think we were ever expecting a traditional happy ending!

As for rereading books - for me I do this very little. I reread Dune before the movie came out as it was a long time since I’d read it and I wanted to refresh the story, but I can’t think of anything else I’ve reread recently in English.

I’m happy to reread books in another language though. Being familiar with the story can help with becoming confident when in the early stages of reading in another language. And rereading books in their original language is always very rewarding.

I read コンビニ人間 in English and then a few years later in Japanese. Like gen-shk I suspect that my reading speed when reading in Japanese forces me to analyse the story more than when reading in my native language. Plus there are always elements in stories that don’t translate well. There always seems to be a real richness that comes from going back to a story in the original language.

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What does it all mean?

I’ve been reflecting on the overall meaning of Ogawa’s 密やかな結晶 since finishing the novel.
Is it about authoritarian oppression? Is it about memory, meaning and identity? Is it about illness and decline (most obviously, the process of disappearance of the self that occurs in dementia)?

A little while ago, I found a brilliant New Yorker article that reflects on The Memory Police, but also on other science fiction/magic realist novels that deliberately add elements of the fantastic to quasi realistic descriptions of an alternative present (or past or future) as a way to shine an interesting, new light on phenomena in our own world.
The article (linked below) refers to the Colson Whitehead’s fascinating novel ‘The Underground Railway’ (which I have read and enjoyed), and Mohsin Hamid’s ‘Exit West’ (which I’ll have to put on my TBR pile). I also thought about China Mieville’s brilliant “The City and the city”, which also plays with an interesting alternative version of a divided city and authoritarian worlds.

How “The Memory Police” Makes You See | The New Yorker

To answer my own question, I don’t think that 密やかな結晶 is necessarily about any one thing. It is definitely Ogawa’s style to play with a set of parallel resonances without telling the reader what to think or how to interpret her fictional world.
For myself, I am most struck with the connection to dementia. In the final chapters, R’s gentle caring for the narrator as she faces physical disintegration and mental disappearance, brought up for me lots of connections with caregivers (husband’s, wives, children) who see their loved one gradually and inexorably disappearing. I reflected once again on how both carers and the individual might struggle to resist that implacable process - to hold on to memories as a way to hold on to the individual person. But in the end, only memories in the caregiver, in other family members, remain.

But I don’t think that is the only way to read the story. Hopefully others here will have enjoyed our journey (notwithstanding its quiet and desolate ending).

We have reached the end of 密やかな結晶.
Hopefully some of you will join me for more 小川洋子 with her short story collection 寡黙な死骸みだらな弔い

We will potentially kick off next week with the first story…

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密やかな結晶

It is interesting, I had understood (probably because it is out there on the internet) that this title has the literal translation of “Secret crystallisation”. (The French title is apparently ‘Cristallisation Secrète’). So it refers to a process of crystallising. I have had that in mind when thinking about how we might interpret this in the novel and suggested various hypotheses along the way.

[One thought - late in the novel, as the islanders started to lose the use of their bodies - it seemed like they were gradually turning to stone (like a slow motion effect from seeing a basilisk, or a gorgon). And so my most recent thought was that this was the aforementioned crystallisation]

But in the 解説 in the kindle edition, the commentator describes a conversation with Ogawa san in which it sounds as though he asks “What sort of crystal”, and she replies by describing a crystal held tightly and secretly in the hand - out of the sight of the police etc.

Have I interpreted this quoted conversation correctly? Is the title really referring to an object(s) rather than a process? And if so, does that change the way that others interpret the title or the novel?

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