‘Vanishing World’ by Sayaka Murata

I have come to accept that I may have a slight obsession with translated Japanese fiction. While this journey has roots in the works of Haruki Murakami, it has since blossomed to incorporate so many incredible authors. A recent favorite, Sayaka Murata, has become the latest writer to cast a spell on me. Convenience Store Woman has become a personal favorite, and her second novel Earthlings is a nightmare that will most likely haunt me for the rest of my life. It’s the kind of book that you will never forget whether you want to or not. The release of her latest novel, Vanishing World, completes a trilogy of astonishing work that explores important issues that are so vital to discuss in these chaotic times. With a take no prisoners kind of attitude, Murata tackles themes of conformity, gender roles, sex, and interpersonal relationships. She asks the question on how someone who feels like an outsider learns to function within society’s rules. The protagonist of Convenience Store Woman is a neurodivergent woman who carves out a place in society through her devotion to her job. However, Earthlings is more of a horror-fueled story about a woman who creates an elaborate fantasy world to escape her childhood traumas and the mounting pressures to conform to society. After that experience, I knew there was no way Murata could take the insanity further. Well, I was wrong, and now we need to talk about her latest novel.

Vanishing World by Sayaka Murata and translated from the Japanese by Ginny Tapley Takemori (Grove Press, 2025) (Photo by Natalie Getter)

As with her other books, Vanishing World is translated by Ginny Tapley Takemori and is a provocative dystopian (utopian?) novel that challenges contemporary ideas of intimacy, reproduction, and having a family. Set in an alternate version of Japan, this is a society that has completely embraced artificial insemination. It began as a way to “replenish the stock” during World War II, and in this universe, the technology has rapidly progressed to the point of being a safe and efficient means to have a baby. However, this has also caused a radical societal shift. We are introduced to our female protagonist, Amane, as a young teen who learns from her mother that she was conceived traditionally, through two parents who were in love. Conceiving a child through natural means is not only considered unhygienic, it’s just downright odd. Sexual intercourse is viewed as messy and unnecessary, along with the concept of romantic love. Marriage between men and women still happen, but merely as a means to raise a child together.

Amane, having been conceived naturally, grapples with her identity in a world that views her existence as an anomaly. She experiences desires and emotions that are considered aberrant in her society. Like her peers, Amane often forms “relationships” with anime characters and carries pictures and tokens symbolizing this bond. Her relationships, both real and imagined, reflect her internal conflict and yearning for connection in an emotionally detached world. Amane’s journey is one of self-discovery as she navigates a landscape that suppresses individuality and authentic human connection.

“Having been made to suffer by the religion of romantic love, we wanted to be saved by the religion of family. If we could succeed in truly brainwashing our entire bodies, I had the feeling we could finally forget romantic love.”

Amane and her husband, Saku, relocate to Experiment City, a government-run community designed to eliminate traditional family dynamics. In this city, reproduction is managed through artificial means, and children are raised together within the community. The city serves as a microcosm of the broader societal trends, as exhibited by how all of the children born in Experiment City are exactly alike in appearance and mannerisms. Just as the concepts of love and family are diminishing, so is the idea of individual identity.

As in her two previous novels, Vanishing World delves into themes of alienation and conformity, societal pressures, and the need for belonging. The characters’ experiences reflect the tension between individual desires and societal expectations, raising questions about the cost of conformity and the loss of authentic human connection. Amane’s resistance to the prevailing norms reflects the importance of individuality and emotional authenticity in a world that seeks to suppress them.

“The thought that we were properly integrated within the system was a relief.  We weren’t just using the family system because it was useful; it also gave rise to a kind of unshakeable bond.
Love and sexual desire were like waste material, something to be disposed of outside the home.  But on nights when we suffered spasms of loneliness, we could cuddle and enjoy talking together.  Sometimes we would spew out what was festering in our minds, and other times we would just chat about nothing in particular.”

Vanishing World serves as a satirical examination of modern society’s obsession with efficiency and control. Through its dystopian setting, the novel critiques the dehumanizing effects of technological advancements and the pursuit of perfection. What I liked most about this novel was how the author didn’t necessarily express how she felt on these issues either way. She simply presented the world, leaving it to us as readers to form our own opinions. Some of the repetitive dialogue did grind my gears a bit, but overall I found it an interesting exploration into love, marriage, and sex.

Sayaka Murata’s Vanishing World is a thought-provoking exploration of a society that has eliminated natural reproduction and emotional intimacy in favor of efficiency and control. While this one isn’t my favorite of her three novels, I still found it fascinating and would consider a reread in the future. Murata’s satirical approach is fun and invites readers to reflect on our own changing times. But don’t just take my word for it, check out another review of ‘Vanishing World’ from This Reading Life.

“Normality is the creepiest madness there is. This was all insane, yet it was so right.”

 

Have you read this book? I’d love to know your thoughts! Let me know with a comment below.

‘Even Greater Mistakes’ by Charlie Jane Anders (Review)

I’d like to take a moment to step back in time, to the year 2020 to be precise. To refer to it as a tumultuous period would be putting it lightly…a global pandemic, political unrest, and so much more. It was also the year that I read the brilliantly inventive All the Birds in the Sky by Charlie Jane Anders. Since then, she has solidified her reputation as one of the most dynamic voices in contemporary speculative fiction. Even Greater Mistakes, a collection of her short fiction, further showcases her imaginative brand of storytelling that combines emotional depth and sharp social insight. I loved her introduction to this book, in which she talks about the over 600 rejections she received in her first decade as a writer. Thank the stars she didn’t give up, as this book weaves a narrative tapestry of stories that range from the comical to the tragic. Charlie Jane Anders offers us the opportunity to take a different view on the concept of failure and what it means to be human.

Even Greater Mistakes by Charlie Jane Anders (2021) (Photo Credit: Natalie Getter)

At its heart, Even Greater Mistakes is a celebration of imperfections and the beauty that can often come in flawed decisions. Take the opening story, “As Good as New,” as the perfect example. This story creatively blends together the “Last Human” trope with a genie narrative into something that serves as a heartfelt meditation on the mistakes we often make in life. The dialogue sparkles, and the story makes us laugh, cry, and think all at the same time. Anders shows us how mistakes are essential and necessary in taking us down a path leading to growth and change. Just like the opening act, each subsequent story uses humor and tenderness to feel both personal while also maintaining a wider imaginative scope.

Many of the stories found here explore dystopian futures that can be quite believable given our current political system. “Don’t Press Charges and I Won’t Sue” is a harrowing vision of a fascistic future where trans people are forcibly detransitioned by having their consciousness placed into cadavers of their assigned genders at birth. The setting for “The Bookstore at the End of America” is a shop that lies on the border between the highly conservative United States and the liberal California which has seceded into its own country. Rather than take a bleak approach, Anders manages to give us an optimistic story that celebrates the healing power of books.

Gender is another key theme of this collection. “Love Might Be Too Strong a Word” takes place on a generation ship whose society has six genders, each with particular roles in both ship maintenance and social reproduction. The protagonist of this story is a maverick who enjoys transgressing those roles when a pilot of another gender begins a courtship. Anders has a knack for using over-the-top humor while still creating a complex and engaging story.

I dare say there’s something for everyone here. If you want over-the-top ridiculous, we have “Fairy Werewolf vs. Vampire Zombie” and the longer “Rock Manning Goes for Broke” which is the comedy action movie we never knew we needed. This one went on a little long, in my opinion, and I think some of the slapstick comedy was a little much. My favorite of the collection has to be “Ghost Champagne,” which finds that perfect balance of offbeat humor with emotional sensibility. Its protagonist is a comedian dealing with relationship issues and huge insecurities, all while being haunted by the ghost of her future self. Her unusual situation takes an interesting twist at a wedding, and I loved how neatly this resolved in an unexpected way.

I could go on about other stories here, but I think I’ve shared enough to give you an appropriate taste. Suffice to say, I will pick up another book by Charlie Jane Anders a little sooner next time. Many of these twisted tales will stay with me, and I wouldn’t mind giving this one a reread in the near future. The final compliment I can give here is that this is just a really fun collection of stories. Just because we read about the darker themes in life, doesn’t mean we can’t be silly about it too.

“The city runs on love. It keeps us sane, more or less. Unlike the dark matter that flows into our massive converters, it’s an infinitely renewable fuel. As to whether it pollutes, you probably already have your own opinions about that.”

 

Have you read this book? I’d love to know your thoughts! Let me know with a comment below.

‘Perfume’ by Patrick Süskind (Review)

The first book I finished this month was Patrick Süskind’s Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, a rather bizarre and haunting novel. I’m still trying to process it, and I think that’s a good testament to a work that’s nearly half a century old. Originally published in Germany in 1985, this Gothic tale weaves olfactory obsession with psychological horror into an unforgettable reading experience (WTF was muttered quite often, in fact). The setting is France during the 18th century and follows the life of Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, a man who is both gifted with an extraordinary sense of smell while also cursed to not possess a human scent himself. So begins the strange journey of one of the most memorable protagonists in modern literature.

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Süskind and translated from the German by John E. Woods (1985) (photo by Natalie Getter)

Our story begins with Grenouille’s birth amid the fish guts and rotting offal in one of the foulest quarters of Paris. From the first page, Süskind’s gift for descriptions is on display as I could almost smell the stench of sulphur and the awful odor of spoiled cabbage. Among this squalor, an unusual child is born. His mother abandons him, and he is passed from one caretaker to the next. While they are unable to understand the reasons, something about this child stirs unrest, as if he can detect the inner workings of the soul with his nose. Unlike others who perceive primarily through sight and sound, Grenouille experiences life almost entirely through smell. As he gets older, he becomes not only obsessed with identifying every possible scent but also with finding a way to distil and preserve them.

One day, Grenouille discovers something that he has never experienced before, a scent so intoxicating that it drives him to the point of madness. As he is able to detect scents from great distances, he tracks down the beautiful aroma’s source—the fragrance of a young innocent woman—and then proceeds to murder her so that he can fully enjoy her scent. Before you become angry at me, know that this is not a spoiler as the blurb (as well as the full title) reveals this information. Grenouille’s obsession leads him down a dark path in a quest to create the ultimate perfume, one that will make the wearer universally loved.

“This perfume was not like any perfume he had known before. It was not a scent that made things smell better, not some sachet, some toiletry. It was something completely new, capable of creating a whole world, a magical rich world, and in an instant you forgot all the loathsomeness around you and felt so rich, so at ease, so free, so fine…”

I’ve always said that a good story does not require a likeable protagonist, and Jean-Baptiste Grenouille is hands down one of the most deplorable characters you will encounter in literature. In fact, the English translation of his name literally is “frog.” Devoid of empathy, warmth, or even the most basic of social mannerisms, he is an abomination. His lack of body odor is the perfect metaphor for his emotional and spiritual absence. Any human bonds he manages to make are purely selfish in nature to help him in his pursuit of capturing this perfect scent. Following the murder of the young girl, Grenouille seeks out a man named Baldini who is the finest maker of perfumes in France and begs for employment. Initially skeptical, Baldini soon becomes convinced of Grenouille’s gifts and takes him on as an apprentice. As he gains knowledge in the art of capturing and bottling scents, Grenouille begins to come closer to making his vision a reality. Despite being a monster, readers will immediately become enraptured by Grenouille’s story. He is a force of nature, and his passion and cunning nature keep us reading to discover his fate.

It takes talent to compose a novel that is both beautiful and disturbing simultaneously. Süskind juxtaposes the filth and squalor of urban life with moments of sheer beauty and eroticism. Even in the most horrific of moments, there’s something pleasurable to be found. Despite his detestable actions, we can’t help but feel a small bit of pity for Grenouille. He is devoid of the ability to love or be loved, and so acquiring the most wonderful scent in the world might bring him the admiration he has never had. Süskind suggests that people are easily manipulated by sensory illusion, and that charisma, beauty, and even love can be simulated.

“For the first time, it was not just that his greedy nature was offended, but his very heart ached.” 

Despite this being such a dark novel, I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of absurdist humor. Süskind manages to take some subtle jabs at the nature of progress through characters like Baldini the perfumer. We are given information regarding the various fates of those that have encountered Grenouille on his journey, and these ridiculous moments bring laughter to what is otherwise a horrific tale. Perfume often serves a clever satire into the Enlightenment ideals of reason, science, and progress. Grenouille is, in many ways, the logical extreme of Enlightenment thinking. While he embodies its ideas of individualism and reason, his utter disdain of humanity twists the ideas into something monstrous.

Süskind’s prose, translated from the German by John E. Woods, is both lyrical and lush, particularly in its descriptions of scent. The author has a gift to make the intangible vividly present in the exploration of Grenouille’s sensory experiences. While the murders are shocking, they are not graphic. The horror of Perfume lies more in its atmosphere and philosophical implications than in graphic violence. The ending brings everything together, and all I will say is that it’s quite the climax.

Patrick Süskind’s Perfume: The Story of a Murderer is a masterwork of Gothic horror, combining beautiful prose, philosophical inquiry, and psychological depth. It is a chilling exploration of obsession, isolation, and the human desire to be loved at any cost. Despite his monstrosity, Grenouille is a tragic character brought fully to life by Süskind. If good literature arouses the senses, then Perfume is quite the decadent feast.

“He would be the omnipotent god of scent, just as he had been in his fantasies, but this time in the real world and over real people. And he knew all this was within his power. For people could close their eyes to greatness, to horrors, to beauty, and their ears to melodies or deceiving words. But they could not escape scent.”

Have you read this book? I’d love to know your thoughts! Let me know with a comment below.

My Reading Wrap-Up: April 2025

Hello fellow readers! Have you missed me? Apologies for the lack of reviews as of late, but I’ve been in a bit of a blogging slump. But fear not, as I will be returning to regularly scheduled posting next week. For some additional motivation, I will share a glimpse at the end of this post of the books I’m currently reading and planning to read in May. Without further ado, here are the 6 books I read in the month of April.

Some fun and interesting reads in April. Photo Credit: Natalie Getter

Books Read:

Model Home by Rivers Solomon

Magic for Liars by Sarah Gailey

My Sister, The Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite

Several People Are Typing by Calvin Kasulke

The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yoko Ogawa

No Bad Parts: Healing Trauma and Restoring Wholeness with the Internal Family Systems Model by Richard C. Schwartz, PhD

Stats:

Total Books Read: 6

Year-to-Date Read: 19

From the Shelves: 4

From the Library: 2

Translated Works Read: 1

Year-to-Date Translated Works Read: 6

My Thoughts:

Everything I read this month was excellent, but maybe my favorite was The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yoko Ogawa. It was unlike anything I had previously read from this author, as I found it to be a quietly endearing novel that weaves mathematics, memory, and human connection into a rather touching story. The plot centers on a brilliant math professor whose memory only lasts 80 minutes due to a traumatic brain injury, and the housekeeper hired to care for him. Despite his condition, the professor finds joy in the beauty of numbers and, over time, builds a bond with the housekeeper and her young son. This novel marks my third book from Ogawa, and as always, her prose is simple yet poignant. I had reservations as I’m still recovering from the trauma of high school math. While this novel is rich in mathematical references, they are presented in such as way that I found myself falling in love with how Ogawa connected these equations to the overall plot. This is a great novel is for readers who enjoy character-driven stories with emotional depth.

After reading their science fiction masterpiece An Unkindness of Ghosts, I knew I needed more Rivers Solomon in my life. Model Home is a brilliant reimagining of the haunted house story, blending psychological horror with explorations into race, trauma, and identity. This novel follows Ezri Maxwell, a neurodivergent, black, intersex individual who returns to their childhood home in a predominantly white Texas suburb after their parents’ mysterious deaths. Ezri, along with their sisters, confronts the traumatic memories of their upbringing, where the house itself seemed to harbor inexplicable horrors. Solomon masterfully combines traditional horror elements with deep social commentary, using the house as a metaphor for the generational trauma and systemic racism faced by the Maxwell family. The narrative delves into disturbing territory, taking us on a horrific journey into some complex themes.

Oyinkan Braithwaite’s My Sister, the Serial Killer is a dark comedic novel that blends thriller with satire, exploring the complexities of family bonds, loyalty, and morality. The story follows Korede, a dutiful nurse who finds herself repeatedly cleaning up after her beautiful younger sister, Ayoola, who has a terrible habit of murdering her boyfriends. Told in short, frenetic chapters, the novel is told mostly through Korede’s conflicted perspective. Flashbacks to growing up slowly provide the backstory to explain why Korede continues protecting her sister. Braithwaite’s prose is sparse yet punchy, examining how outer beauty and charisma can serve as a mask to someone truly dangerous. This novel also explores social expectations placed on women, particularly within patriarchal cultures.

Current and planned May reads (special guest appearance by Snickers)

What’s Next:

So many books to read! In order to achieve my goal of 75 books for the year, I need to read at least 7 each month. In order to help with this goal, I’ve made a short stack of possibilities for the month of May. I’m really excited with some of these selections, particularly Vanishing World and Service Model. In addition to newer releases, I’m planning to add at least once classic to the rotation each month. For May, I have two. I’ve never read Flowers for Algernon and Rebecca is long overdue for a reread.

What was the best book you read in April? Recommendations for May? Let me know with a comment below!

My Reading Wrap-up: First Quarter of 2025

We are officially three months into 2025, so it seems like a good time to take stock on my reading progress. My hope is that this post will help me break out of my latest reading/blogging slump. My goal for the year is 75 books, and at the time of writing this, I’ve read 13. While not exactly setting the world on fire, I’m learning to give myself grace. As always, I’m striving to read works from marginalized writers in a variety of different genres. One area where I’m feeling accomplished is in the number of works in translation I’ve already read. Over the next 3 months, I’d like to read more of the books I own while curbing my impulse book buying. But if I don’t, please remember that magic word grace.

Here are the 13 books I read and some thoughts I had about the 2025 journey so far.

January Books:

The City and Its Uncertain Walls by Haruki Murakami (translated from the Japanese by Philip Gabriel)

What You Are Looking for Is in the Library by Michiko Aoyama (translated from the Japanese by Alison Watts)

Private Rites by Julia Armfield

A Sunny Place for Shady People by Mariana Enriquez (translated from the Spanish by Megan McDowell)

February Books:

The Mill House Murders by Yukito Ayatsuji (translated from the Japanese by Ho-Ling Wong)

All the Names They Used for God by Anjali Sachdeva

Strangers on a Train by Patricia Highsmith

Einstein’s Dreams by Alan Lightman

March Books:

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Water Moon by Samantha Sotto Yambao

Mem by Bethany C. Morrow

The Marlow Murder Club by Robert Thorogood

Terminal Boredom by Izumi Suzuki (translated from the Japanese by Polly Barton, Sam Bett, David Boyd, Daniel Joseph, Aiko Masubuchi, And Helen O’Horan)

2025 Stats:

Total Books Read: 13

Year-to-Date Read: 13

From the Shelves: 9

From the Library: 4

Translated Works Read: 5

Year-to-Date Translated Works Read: 5

My Thoughts:

For the first quarter of the year, I had four books I would categorize as 5-star reads. 2025 started out beautifully with a novel that I felt was Murakami’s most mature work so far. The City and Its Uncertain Walls is a brilliant culmination of the themes developed in past works by this author, but I would recommend beginning somewhere else if you are new to him just to see if his style is for you. It was great to follow that with a novel that is all about the power of books. What You Are Looking for Is in the Library contains that right blend of hope and magic. My other favorite from this quarter comes from a new favorite author. An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon is an engaging science fiction masterpiece, while also serving as a compelling exploration of trauma and oppression on the human psyche. If you’re looking for a new dystopian novel, go find this one!

Another work that I would highly recommend is Water Moon by Samantha Sotto Yambao. I’ve been hoping to find some authors to replace Neil Gaiman in my life, and this one is the closest I’ve found that captures that “dreamlike fantasy” quality that we should all have in our lives. Puddles that teleport around an alternate universe, magical origami, and shadowy creatures hunting the protagonists on an epic quest are just some of the wonders in this delightful tale.

Another beautiful gem I discovered in my reading journey turned out to be a fun and hilarious cozy mystery. The Marlow Murder Club features a protagonist who is a worthy successor to the likes of Miss Marple and Jessica Fletcher. In fact, I can’t wait to read the second installment. This one gets some criticism online as being a lesser quality knockoff of The Thursday Murder Club (which I haven’t read yet), but I found a lot to enjoy here, particularly the endearing characters. It’s also extremely funny.

I’ve been reading more short story collections as well, finishing March with a collection of posthumous stories from Izumi Suzuki. This was one of the biggest names in Japanese sci-fi, known for an off-beat punk style that broke from conventional storytelling. While she sadly passed away in 1986, it’s eerie how relevant and fresh these stories feel.

What’s Next:

I’m hoping to continue to read more translated works and just authors that allow me an escape from the ridiculousness that continues to go on in this country. Currently, I’m reading Model Home, a horror novel from Rivers Solomon. While I don’t have a solid plan for the month, I expect to squeeze in some sci-fi and mystery. I’m planning to read at least one non-fiction book in April as well.

What was the best book you’ve read so far in 2025? How about the weirdest? Let me know with a comment below!