Ratings167
Average rating3.9
Forse in futuro scriverò una recensione migliore ma l'unica cosa che posso dire è che mi ha fatto piangere in pubblico per ben tre volte. Lo consiglio tantissimo.
Her prose remind me of Marguerite Duras' writing, it is not exactly my cup of tea, but I cannot deny the thought provoking nature of this style of writing. I think the themes are so vivid and she brings so much tenderness and sincerity, it is a soulful story that resonated with me. Yoshimoto masterfully writes a seemingly simple story that carries so much spirit and hope.
I didn't know this had two separate stories and was thrown off so bad when the second one started. Also, there's meaning lost in translation and some stuff didn't come across properly and made me think it probably sounded more profound in Japanese.
Sweet, cosy, sad
a story of people living through grief, with some lovely reflections and moments
Would recommend for a short read if you like a short read about love and comforting people with food
I love how uncomplicated the characters of this are.
I'm making a list of short books like this for next year.
Your book preferences aren't solely determined by an author's writing skill. Various elements like theme, plot, characters, and even the cover play a crucial role in shaping your review. Reviews tend to be deeply personal; what resonates with one person might not resonate with everyone. So my personal rating for the book is 3/5.
That being said, this book left me with mixed emotions. I enjoyed the first story, “Kitchen,” yet elsewhere, I came across another person's review which I liked to quote here - “she's not for everyone; she's a minimalist storyteller, at least in my opinion, able to turn the emotional state of the right reader with the flick of just one beautiful perfect phrase, but only if you're ready to catch that beautiful perfect phrase and appreciate it for what it is.”
I agree with the reviews on the ability to write everyday normalcy in a compelling way but the outlandish series of events were goofy for me and the trans character was so inorganically written that even with each character loving her it was just a big negative in the storytelling. Not to mention the trans character's individual storyline and letter to her son.
This is my new favourite book.
It's just so beautifully written and exactly the kind of stories I love with all my heart.
The stories have plenty of flaws and the writing probably has too, but it was what I love and needed.
This was an interesting read, the flow and style were something that I've come to equate with Japanese literature, it was dreamlike and bordering on magical realism. The stories were touching, although the fact that two were focused on the same main character and the third on someone else was confusing and made it a bit hard to get into the third story, although I turned out to like that one the best. The ending left me feeling hopeful.
cute and light story abt grief but trigger warning for some light transphobia (a little confused but they have the spirit)
Wat een héérlijk geschreven boek dit. Echt prachtig. Ik moest me heel erg inhouden om het niet in één ruk uit te lezen.
5:
For years and years I've wanted to get a hold of this book, and I was delighted to finally receive my copy back in February. It's a 29 year old, second-hand, but very well kept copy. Gosh, I love used books.
I adored Kitchen. I lost my grandpa a few months ago, and a sa result gone through my fair share of books regarding grief. Perhaps she's not saying anything that hasn't been said before, but Banana has a way with words that's just so beautiful and touching. I became endeared to the leading ladies in both Kitchen and in Moonlight Shadow—which is a novella that's included in the book. There's healing in the mundaneness of every day life, and I kept rooting for Mikage's determination to feel her pain, but to also not get bogged down by the heaviness of her grief. And although her story wasn't as emotionally taxing (to me) as Mikage's, Satsuki's need for closure and companionship moved me deeply. Reading this book felt like cozying up in bed after having a good, long cry.
I also noticed that, just as she did in Goodbye, Tsugumi, Banana is a master at setting her stage. While reading, it truly feels like you're in Japan in the 90's, with the big sofas and the bright, plant-filled apartments. Really good when you need a pick-me-up.
“Kitchen” contains two novellas about recovering from the death of a loved one, and helping others cope with loss. Both stories were sweet and melancholy. However I did want a little more from the titular story (it dwelled a little too long on the will they won't they romantic relationship stuff and the most interesting character had way too little page time) and both stories are a bit weird about gender (which is sort of understandable since this was originally published in the 80s).
There are books that takes an ordinary occurance from life and twist it to render it extraordinary. But Kitchen is a novel that has an extraordinary premise, told very subtly and devoid of any complexity and makes the reader forgets the craziness of all of it. It is just beautiful...
Kitchen left me quite conflicted.
I was drawn in by its simple style of prose and somewhat-absurdist attitude towards life and death which reminded me a lot of The Stranger (by Albert Camus).
I was also pushed away by its unmistakably 80s-90s development and treatment of the trans- characters involved; while it's “of its time” it doesn't wash away the sour taste that is left in your mouth.
As such, it's hard for me to nail down a rating for Kitchen. It only took a few hours to go through and I guess overall I'm happy to have experienced what is here.
oh yeah let's kill the only lgbt character halfway through as if we don't have it bad enough already
Leer a Banana Yoshimoto es como darte un baño relajante o tomar un buen descanso, o darte cuenta de que todo este tiempo haz estado respirando con dificultad y su obra viene a quitarte ese peso de encima.
Esta es mi segunda vez leyendo Kitchen y puedo decir que ahora lo disfruté muchísimo más que anteriormente; y no es que en mi primera lectura no me haya gustado mucho.
Siento que pude entender y empatizar mejor con las situaciones en las que se veían envueltos los personajes ahora que me he vuelto consumidora recurrente de la cultura japonesa. Simplemente por el hecho de conocer pequeños detalles sobre sus formas de expresarse, comunicarse o la manera en la que se desenvuelven -a pesar de que el libro contiene notas al pie al respecto-, cambia mucho la perspectiva desde la cual recibí las historias. Tanto Kitchen como Moonlight Shadow.
En ambas, Yoshimoto nos lleva de la mano de un personaje principal que está lidiando con el duelo y que se ve forzado a seguir con su vida “normal”, como usualmente sucede en esas situaciones. Nos presenta cómo cada uno lidia con su dolor de manera distinta pero cómo, a pesar de sus diferencias, pueden encontrar consuelo en un amigo o, incluso, en un desconocido. Me pareció impresionante cómo un tema tan universal puede sentirse tan único y personal bajo la pluma indicada.
No puedo pensar en mucho más que agregar más que es un libro muy lindo y creo que por siempre tendrá un lugar entre mis favoritos.
I liked the story very much even though the translation wasn't that good. I very much dislike translations from other translations. This one was translated from italian into german even though it's originally japanese! there is so much that gets lost in this process and you can find it especially in the beginnig of the translation. In due time i will probably reread the book in its ori g inal language.
Uh... hmm.
There are things I liked about these two stories. She has some good turns of phrase and a very spare-but-evocative style that reminds me of Murakami.
But. The trans character(s?). Ye gods.
Eriko. I think every mention of her made me cringe. Pretty sure Yoshimoto doesn't actually know the difference between a trans woman, a drag queen and a gay man. And also, hey, what do I know, but also pretty sure that most trans women don't “decide to become a woman” after their wife dies and they realize they will never love another woman or that they are too emotional to continue living as a man. And that's not even getting into the fact that literally every time Eriko comes up in conversation someone has to say “And that's hilarious because you're really a man, hahaha!”
Here's an actual example of dialog from the book:
“There aren't many men who will open a car door for a woman. I think it's really great.”
“Eriko raised me that way,” he said, laughing, “If I didn't open the door for her, she'd get mad and refuse to get in the car.”
“Even though she was a man!” I said, laughing.
“Right, right, even though she was a man.”
BARF BARF BARF
Oh and plus she gets brutally murdered in a hate-crime, because that's not what happens to every trans character ever. ("A crazy man became obsessed with her... Shocked to find out that this beautiful woman was a man... screaming that he had been made a fool of, he lunged at her with a knife.")
(I'm not going to talk about the other “trans” character, because he was actually just a cross-dresser, and that only sort of (he wore his girlfriend's clothes to feel closer to her after she died, or something like that, it's not really clear).)
OK so I get that this was written in 1988 and maybe I'm missing some cultural context, but still, massive ugh. I think if it wasn't for that I would probably have enjoyed the vague emotional writing and the fill-in-the-details-for-yourself style of storytelling and the weird uncommunicative romantic relationship between a couple of dysfunctional people, but the horrible caricatured trans stuff was just too distracting.
This book is made up of two lovely, but brief, stories. I'd like to read something longer and more immersive by Yoshimoto.