Book Review: Translucent Tree
A review of Nobuko Takagi‘s Translucent Tree
I teach English in Japan, a common task for English speaking ex-pats here. As common is my task to stop my kids from reading non-English books during class—usually the girls. Cutesy books with pink covers and hearts and such. And though Translucent Tree by Nobuko Takagi is not a cutesy book, it is similar in having a very attractive cover, and, I can surmise, similar content as the high-school Japanese romance tales of my students—if, perhaps, a bit more aged—and probably no less racy.
The story is centered around divorced Chigiri, a suburban middle-aged mother taking care of her teenage daughter, Mayu, and her ailing father Kaho. Her life is mundane and rather hopeless until Go, a TV producer from Tokyo, pays a visit to her town and the tree they shared time under some twenty years back after a TV commercial shoot. His remembrances of her, the tree, and the long unrequited love stir both of their hearts to fumbling action as they re-discover some kind of love between them.
I had always wondered what kinds of books would appeal to those kids in my classes. Translucent Tree is a decently written tale, at least so far as my English translation can attest—though I fear there may be some art in the telling lost in translation. Go and Chigiri are at least properly flawed characters that can keep you hoping that they’ll find a way out of their self imposed cultural and communicative prisons.
Unfortunately, I don’t think they did. At least, not all the way.
I’m sure it’s not the fate of every Japanese romance that the most important information an intimate couple can share goes universally unsaid (though, perhaps it is of literature), but this couple at least commits to it. Most opportunities the characters are given to reveal their selves to each other, and thus perhaps find some small moment of authentic intimacy, are constantly thwarted, and it becomes a hard tale to hope for. By the end, it would seem the only method left for them is to redeem them selves in the closed, dark box of obsession or death—the two essentially being the same.
I don’t mean for this to be a poor review of the book. A tragedy with this much sex in it isn’t so bad—even if the development of that intimacy is terribly strained (and at least a portrayal of some of the cultural influences involved). I am happy that it’s the story of a middle aged couple, and doesn’t shy away from satisfying the reader of that difficulty. The two do eventually seem to come to some fleeting revelations of change, but not ones that seem to sustain themselves.
Fleeting moments of memory are sometimes the best some have to hope for—as is the case for Chigiri and Go. And though this seems to be enough for them, or at least all they are capable, it leaves me wanting a bit more from the story as well. Their only hope for happiness seems preserved in a certain kind of honor and the future hope that others, perhaps in Mayu, will figure it out some better way. But, as fleeting moments of happiness go, I guess that is the point.
Translucent Tree is available through Amazon.com
