103 pages, Kindle edition
Review by Marc Nash
Aokigahara, an almost never-ending sprawl of
woods (the Sea of Trees of the title), where the Japanese take themselves off
to die at their own hand. It is the place where suicides go, knowing they are
unlikely to ever be found, and never to be disturbed in their lonely final act.
Junko and her American boyfriend Bill are
searching the expanse for clues to the resting place of Junko's sister Izumi.
Interspersed in alternate chapters are the tales of other visitors to the woods
who had no intention of ever making it out. The tone is lyrical, elegiac. Bill
is a somewhat reluctant passenger, his eyes always searching for a lustful
outcome with his girlfriend, his cultural difference struggling to grasp her
sensibilities. She believes she can find the needle in the woodstack, he
reasons only the unlikelihood of mathematical probability in such a vast area
as this.
Junko is after that well known Western conceit
'closure'. But not as we understand it, but to preserve the secret shared with
her sister as to the reason behind her suicide. Japanese ghosts are trapped
with their unshared secrets. If Junko can find her, then she will be able to
lay the restless spirit to rest. What the reader comes to see slowly in the
parallel tales of other suicides, is the ghosts that existed while they were
still alive. Ghosts and secrets within families and relationships and
inabilities to live up to Japan's codes of honour and cultural expectation,
that help push them all over the edge into seeking death as a release.
Even though I guessed both elements of the ending before I reached it in
the text, this didn't really diminish my enjoyment of what is a quite eloquent
book to luxuriate in and be swept away into an ever receding sea of trees.
No comments:
Post a Comment