Banana Yoshimoto

Alan Ayckbourn

Relates the experiences of two free-spirited young women in contemporary Japan.

Kitchen

kata

It's so great, I thought, having tea in the afternoon with someone you really feel at home with. I knew how wildly he tosses in his sleep, how much milk and sugar he takes in his coffee. I knew his face in front of the mirror, insanely serious, as he tries to tame his mop of unruly hair with the hair dryer. Then I thought, if we were still together I would be worrying about how I've just chipped the nailpolish on my right hand scrubbing the refrigerator

As we decided where to meet, I looked up at the win- dow. The sky outside was a dull gray. Waves of clouds were being pushed around by the wind with amazing force. In this world there is no place for sadness. No place; not one.

When was it I realized that, on this truly dark and solitary path we all walk, the only way we can light is our own? Although I was raised with love, I was always lonely.

Someday, without fail, everyone will disappear, scat- tered into the blackness of time. I've always lived with that knowledge rooted in my being: perhaps that's why Yui- chi's way of reacting to things seemed natural to me.

And that's why I rushed into living with them.

karina

I’ll never be able to be here again. …

Even as we exchange hellos, they seem to grow transparent. I must keep living with the flowing river before my eyes. 

I earnestly pray that a trace of my girl-child self will always be with you. 

But...I just wanted to sleep under the stars. 

I wanted to wake up in the morning light.

"I really needed you to make me laugh," he said, rubbing his eyes with his arm, "so much I couldn't stand it anymore." 

I reached out and took his face in both hands. Thank you for calling me,"I said softly.

Dream kitchens. I will have countless ones, in my heart or in real- ity. Or in my travels. Alone, with a crowd of people, with one other person-in all the many places I will live. I know that there will be so many more.

Still facing straight ahead, a heartbreaking sadness in her eyes, she asked me, "Did you see it?" 

"Was it everything you had hoped?" This time she turned to face me, smiling. Relief diffused through my heart. "It was," I said, smiling back at her. The two of us stood there in the sunshine for some time, as morning came.

I was staring so absentmindedly at the moon that Hiragi had to give me a push on the shoulder. The small white light it gave off was so pretty, so cold; it was like a pearl.

No matter what, I want to continue living with the awareness that I will die. Without that, I am not alive. That is what makes the life I have now possible.

And it's true that for the whole summer I went about it with a crazed enthusiasm: cooking, cooking, cooking. I poured all my earnings from my part-time job into it, and if something came out wrong I'd do it over till I got it right. Angry, fretful, or cheery, I cooked through it all.

As I grow older, much older, I will experience many things, and I will hit rock bottom again and again. Again and again I will suffer; again and again I will get back on my feet. I will not be defeated. I won't let my soul be destroyed.

But if a person hasn’t ever experienced true despair, she grows old never knowing how to evaluate where she is in life; never understanding what joy really is. 

In the endless repetition of other nights, other mornings, this moment, too, might become a dream. 

Even I, slow as I am, finally understood his excessive unnaturalness. When I took a good look in his eyes, I understood. 

Little by little, light and air came into my heart. I was thrilled. 

Maybe I had been waiting for this. Maybe all I had been hoping for was a bed in which to be able to stop thinking, just for a little while, about what happened before and what would happen in the future.

Kitchen juxtaposes two tales about mothers, transsexuality, bereavement, kitchens, love and tragedy in contemporary Japan. It is a startlingly original first work by Japan's brightest young literary star and is now a cult film. When Kitchen was first published in Japan in 1987 it won two of Japan's most prestigious literary prizes, climbed its way to the top of the bestseller lists, then remained there for over a year and sold millions of copies. Banana Yoshimoto was hailed as a young writer of great talent and great passion whose work has quickly earned a place among the best of modern literature, and has been described as 'the voice of young Japan' by the Independent on Sunday.

Denisse Garcia Ramírez 

In places where a loved one had died, time stops for eternity.

Because nothing so conventional would do for Hiiragi, he chose the sailor outfit, as a variation. Neither recourse was anything more than a way to lend some life to a shriveled spirit. It was a way to divert our minds, to kill time.

Why is it we have so little choice? We live like the lowliest worms. Always defeated - defeated we make dinner, we eat, we sleep. Everyone we love is dying. Still, to cease living is unacceptable.

No matter what, I want to continue living with the awareness that I will die. Without that, I am not alive.

Those women lived their lives happily. They had been taught, probably by caring parents, not to exceed the boundaries of their happiness regardless of what they were doing. But therefore they could never know real joy.

Truly great people emit a light that warms the hearts of those around them. When that light has been put out, a heavy shadow of despair descends

"Yes. But if a person hasn't ever experienced true despair, she grows old never knowing how to evaluate where she is in life; never understanding what joy really is. I'm grateful for it."

This was such a beautiful read. What stuck with me was Mikage saying, “when was it I realized that, on this truly dark and solitary path we all walk, the only way we can light is our own?” It’s always like that when processing grief, having to deal with the unbearable consequences of being left. Grief can truly be an isolating experience. I love how the characters for both stories were able to encounter people they can share the loss of their beloveds with. Because in the solitary path wherein we can only light our own, there is a portion of that light that lands on & touches the spaces of others- still, anchored by the same grief, people we can share and slowly navigate the hopefulness that awaits us with. There is life, there are people, and places we have yet to embark on.

Ren 

death, a universal concept : meant to be acknowledged and understood, but mankind will always have a hard time embracing it. this book offers a poignant exploration of grief and its convalescence, reminding us the brevity of life. amidst recuperating, come the coping mechanism and the need to withdraw from the world, hoping to fill the void by avoiding life. as someone who is still grieving, this hits too close to home.

Sarah Sammis

Read the book in about half an hour. It's a bitter sweet tale of loss and friendship. I enjoyed this book much more than Amrita. Banana Yoshmoto is best at creating short scenes that flit from thought to thought which Kitchen does so well.

Lindy B

I have been informed that I read an exceptionally bad translation, but at the same time there wasn't enough that grabbed me to inspire me to find a different version.

The warmth of the kitchen light and the tenderness of young love. Perfectly describes grief in the most heart warming and relatable way. 

Sorin

Nabila Azahra

everything hits in the best possible way to me.

kayla 

banana yoshimoto… how do i even begin to talk about your work? treading through your book, i feel connected to a woman within me — much older, wiser, and crucially transparent about life’s precious moments & its critical junctures. she generously opens the door of my heart, and i receive a rainbow that breathes life into everything. suddenly the air around me is somehow charged. i discovered ichiko aoba’s music during the time i was reading kitchen, which surprisingly served as a fitting accompaniment, enlightening and deepening my experience of the book.

to me, kitchen is about the family we choose, and how this is a discovery of a love so vast. a love enriched and enshrined by a sharing-of-the-table, set aglow through recipes that include a little bit of one’s soul, laboriously made with love and incredibly devoured together. a summer of bliss in the kitchen that brings so much pleasure, but somehow, so much suffering (for mikage) afterwards. and how this loss – coupled with many others – hardened mikage.

i’m certain that moonlight shadow has a special place in my soul, forever ever ever. both kitchen and moonlight shadow made me reflect: when a beloved is no longer here with us, for them time stops for eternity. the pain we nurse afterwards ejects us from the real world, somehow – and so time stops for us, too. this ejection is a ritual we offer them (and ourselves), albeit unknowingly. 

you and me are the same, you see, but in different planes.

 i don’t know how else to talk about this but to borrow yoshimoto’s words: reeling through this story felt like a “ray of light piercing my heart.”

this is a theme i run away from so often, a real fear i always ignore: the impermanence of everything, of lives so beloved to me. but it always seems to find me, corner me, and remind me of the limitations of this self, life, world. and all the other precious selves, lives, worlds around me. i’m remembering now mary oliver’s poem, blackwater woods: “…and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.” again and again, about healthy detachment, etc. etc.

…living with the awareness that i will die. without that, i am not alive. this is what makes the life i have now possible.”

Alyanna

banana yoshimoto… how do i even begin to talk about your work? treading through your book, i feel connected to a woman within me — much older, wiser, and crucially transparent about life’s precious moments & its critical junctures. she generously opens the door of my heart, and i receive a rainbow that breathes life into everything. suddenly the air around me is somehow charged. i discovered ichiko aoba’s music during the time i was reading kitchen, which surprisingly served as a fitting accompaniment, enlightening and deepening my experience of the book.

to me, kitchen is about the family we choose, and how this is a discovery of a love so vast. a love enriched and enshrined by a sharing-of-the-table, set aglow through recipes that include a little bit of one’s soul, laboriously made with love and incredibly devoured together. a summer of bliss in the kitchen that brings so much pleasure, but somehow, so much suffering (for mikage) afterwards. and how this loss – coupled with many others – hardened mikage.

i’m certain that moonlight shadow has a special place in my soul, forever ever ever. both kitchen and moonlight shadow made me reflect: when a beloved is no longer here with us, for them time stops for eternity. the pain we nurse afterwards ejects us from the real world, somehow – and so time stops for us, too. this ejection is a ritual we offer them (and ourselves), albeit unknowingly. you and me are the same, you see, but in different planes. i don’t know how else to talk about this but to borrow yoshimoto’s words: reeling through this story felt like a “ray of light piercing my heart.”

this is a theme i run away from so often, a real fear i always ignore: the impermanence of everything, of lives so beloved to me. but it always seems to find me, corner me, and remind me of the limitations of this self, life, world. and all the other precious selves, lives, worlds around me. i’m remembering now mary oliver’s poem, blackwater woods: “…and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.” again and again, about healthy detachment, etc. etc.

…living with the awareness that i will die. without that, i am not alive. this is what makes the life i have now possible.”

ok out of all the banana yoshimotos i have read this year i think kitchen is the one that speaks to my heart the most. maybe because i’m someone who finds romance in the mundane and right now am experiencing many things regarding life n revelations n thinking about what makes a life — the sentiments somehow managed to echo exactly how i’m feeling right now. i’m a big believer in fate and how the universe gets the media you need to consume to you as you need it :’) it’s strange but also lovely? thank you, this is what i wanted to hear right now.  

gabby

:( the author writes about losing someone close to you so well and the pain you go through. i liked the first story better than the second one. when i first started reading it, i didn’t see the appeal, but i kept reading and it was so bittersweet

kareem choucair 

first story: lowkey transphobic 😍.

second story: somewhat cute.

thea

buku ini menceritakan kisah tentang orang" yang telah ditinggalkan oleh orang terkasih; orangtua, kakek, nenek, kekasih, saudara.aku seperti ikut masuk kedalam cerita & merasakan apa yg mereka rasakan. bagaimana mereka meghadapi perasaan sakit setelah ditinggalkan, merelakan & menerima kenyataan, dan tetap harus melanjutkan hidup. rasanya ingin memeluk semua para tokoh yang ada dibuku ini :(
banyak kalimat yang mewakili perasaanku juga. aku cukup merasa sedih & hampa saat membaca buku ini. aku tersadar kalau sebenarnya rasa sakit itu terkadang akan muncul lagi, hilang sesaat, muncul lagi. tapi kita harus tetap bertahan & melihat kedepan, karna suatu saat ini semua akan membaik. tentunya juga orang yg telah meninggalkan kita tidak ingin kita bersedih terus. biarlah kita hidup dengan mengingat kenangan indah dari mereka & jalani hidup kita dengan baik.

buku ini menceritakan kisah tentang orang" yang telah ditinggalkan oleh orang terkasih; orangtua, kakek, nenek, kekasih, saudara.
aku seperti ikut masuk kedalam cerita & merasakan apa yg mereka rasakan. bagaimana mereka meghadapi perasaan sakit setelah ditinggalkan, merelakan & menerima kenyataan, dan tetap harus melanjutkan hidup. rasanya ingin memeluk semua para tokoh yang ada dibuku ini :(

banyak kalimat yang mewakili perasaanku juga. aku cukup merasa sedih & hampa saat membaca buku ini. aku tersadar kalau sebenarnya rasa sakit itu terkadang akan muncul lagi, hilang sesaat, muncul lagi. tapi kita harus tetap bertahan & melihat kedepan, karna suatu saat ini semua akan membaik. tentunya juga orang yg telah meninggalkan kita tidak ingin kita bersedih terus. biarlah kita hidup dengan mengingat kenangan indah dari mereka & jalani hidup kita dengan baik.

my introduction to japanese literature, couldn’t have been a better place to start. yoshimoto captures both the rawness of grief and how that can gently blossom into courage to keep going. her portrayal of emotion is universal and i love how she finds comfort in the kitchen. simple yet beautiful writing, i loved it.

elizabeth

Banana Yoshimoto's writing is so simple yet it always makes complex emotions emerge in my heart. The way she writes about grief and love that covers that grief like a warm blanket touches my soul and comforts me in a way that feels like home. Similar to how Mikage finds solace in kitchen and Satsuki in the river, I find my scars of loss soothed by her humane and lovely stories. Always a joy to read them, and Kitchen was no exception.

deniz

Two stories, "Kitchen" and "Moonlight Shadow," told through the eyes of a pair of contemporary young Japanese women, deal with the themes of mothers, love, transsexuality, kitchens, and tragedy. Reprint. NYT.

hmmm… just enjoyed the atmosphere throughout most of this, ending was especially lovely. 

eriko and hiiragi are my absolute babies, they deserve better. but this book definitely exceeded my expectations (and they were high). An exploration of death and grief that makes you appreciate life and how mundane it is. 

inspiring how even after losing the closest people to them in tragic ways, the characters decided to overcome grief and keep living in a way that honors those who are gone. 

eriko and hiiragi are my absolute babies, they deserve better. but this book definitely exceeded my expectations (and they were high). An exploration of death and grief that makes you appreciate life and how mundane it is. 

inspiring how even after losing the closest people to them in tragic ways, the characters decided to overcome grief and keep living in a way that honors those who are gone. 

this book feels like getting a warm hug from death and a mother 🫂 it somehow made griefing feel warm

zahra

reann

so much heart I developed a romanticizing appreciation for the mundane :((

This book is unbelievably warm. It made me love reading again. It made me ponder about death, specifically grief. There is love found between the words written in this book. There is sorrow and tremendous grief, but the warmth of the kitchen light overpowers it all.

yaya

almost forgot how asian literatures feels like home

Farah Aisha Shabrina

"... is this what it means to be happy?Why is it we have so little choice? We live like the lowliest worms. Always defeated—defeated we make dinner, we eat, we sleep. Everyone we love is dying. Still, to cease living is unacceptable." 

of course, i loved this book and the characters felt so warm and likeable. continuing life while experiencing heartbreak that comes with death, learning to live with that and healing is always going to do it for me. there is something about the way banana yoshimoto builds her characters worlds that makes it feel so soothing and like a hug. i wanted to know everything about mikage and yuchis lives after mikages grandmother and eriko. 

i will say the transitions from time change's aren't straight up clear and it's more so you have to read up to know that mikage ended up moving, etc but it isnt a big deal or affects the quality, in my opinion. i did find myself wanting more however; more explanations, more details, more depth of mikage and yuichi's lives instead of pretty much on surface information. i just wanted more and more from those two since i loved them and wished the best for them and their little lives. i enjoyed the book regardless of anything and it gives comfort and warmth. 

ana jacqueline

"... is this what it means to be happy?Why is it we have so little choice? We live like the lowliest worms. Always defeated—defeated we make dinner, we eat, we sleep. Everyone we love is dying. Still, to cease living is unacceptable." 

i love you banana yoshimoto. 

of course, i loved this book and the characters felt so warm and likeable. continuing life while experiencing heartbreak that comes with death, learning to live with that and healing is always going to do it for me. there is something about the way banana yoshimoto builds her characters worlds that makes it feel so soothing and like a hug. i wanted to know everything about mikage and yuchis lives after mikages grandmother and eriko. 

i will say the transitions from time change's aren't straight up clear and it's more so you have to read up to know that mikage ended up moving, etc but it isnt a big deal or affects the quality, in my opinion. i did find myself wanting more however; more explanations, more details, more depth of mikage and yuichi's lives instead of pretty much on surface information. i just wanted more and more from those two since i loved them and wished the best for them and their little lives. i enjoyed the book regardless of anything and it gives comfort and warmth. 

Kitchen

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