Growing up in 1970s Japan

It cannot be denied that in the vast global literary landscape, Japanese literature is a powerhouse. Built on a long tradition of pushing the limits of writing and storytelling, it stands tall and proud. With a lush literary heritage that spans centuries, Japanese literature is seminal in the transformation and shaping of the global literary landscape. Its influences transcend time, underscoring Japanese literature’s incontrovertible role in the ambit of world literature. Throughout history, it has produced a rich and extensive list of outstanding writers and storytellers whose works gained accolades across the world. Among them are Yukio Mishima, Jun’ichirō Tanizaki, Osamu Dazai, Natsume Sōseki, Haruki Murakai, and Shūsaku Endō. They were all in instrumental in putting Japanese literature on the map in the 20th century. On top of these, Japanese literature gifted the world with three Nobel Laureates in Literature: Yasunari Kawabata (1968), Kenzaburō Ōe (1994), and Kazuo Ishiguro (2017).

There is, however, something that easily stands out from the names mentioned above. There is a glaring dichotomy: the lack of a prominent female voice, at least in the portion of Japanese literature made available to English readers. The prominent names mentioned above, recognized by literary pundits across the world, are all men, underscoring how 20th-century Japanese literature has been dominated by men. Ironically, The Tale of Genji ((源氏物語, Genji monogatari), recognized as one of the earliest novels to ever be published, was written by a noblewoman, Lady Murasaki Shikibu (紫式部). Nevertheless, several female Japanese writers left indelible marks on the lush tapestry of Japanese literature. With the advent of globalization came a wave of translated works. Several Japanese writers rode this wave, among them was Yōko Ogawa (小川 洋子, Ogawa Yōko).

While she made her literary debut in the late 20th century, it was only in the 21st century that her full-length prose was translated, starting with ダイヴィング・プール (1991, Daibingu puru; trans: The Diving Pool) in 2008. The Diving Pool was immediately picked up by Anglophone readers. It was critically received by literary pundits, marking the ascent of a new literary star. This success ushered in a renewed interest in her oeuvre, particularly from Anglophone readers. Recently, the English translation of her 1994 novel 密やかな結晶 (Hisoyaka na kesshō; trans.: The Memory Police) was shortlisted for the 2020 International Booker Prize. Both of these books – all of Ogawa’s translated novels – were translated by Stephen Snyder. In 2024, Ogawa teams up again with Snyder in making her 2006 novel ミーナの行進 (Mi-na no Kōshi) available to English readers as Mina’ Matchbox.

My homesickness gradually began to ease. I was always in a good mood in the morning, being especiallly fond of the moment, on clear, springlike days, when the sun would slip through the curtains to wake me. I liked to lie in bed and watch as the features of my room appeared one after another in the morning light – the slippers I’d discarded the night before, the amber floorboards, the pattersn othe wallpaper, the light in the shape of an oil lamp, the sturdy desk that promised to make me smarter just by sitting at it.

Yōko Ogawa, Mina’s Matchbox

Ogawa’s latest translated novel transports the readers to early 1970s Japan. The year was 1972. However, the story commences in the present when the novel’s primary voice, Tomoko is in her forties. She looks back three decades ago. Tomoko lost her father when she was just six. Six years after her father’s untimely demise, her mother sent her to the coastal town of Ashiya, just two hours away, to stay for a year with her mother’s more affluent sister. Meanwhile, Tomoko’s mother will study dressmaking to support her and her daughter. Tomoko’s aunt agreed to keep her, marking the first time she was meeting her aunt and her family, including her cousin, the titular Mina. In her aunt’s vast estate, Tomoko was first greeted by her aunt’s half-German and handsome husband who drove a Mercedes Benz. He is also the president of a fizzy drinks company that supplemented their opulent lifestyle. He was described as a genius for making other people happy.

Her well-dressed and handsome uncle was just a scratch on the surface. The aunt and her family’s Spanish Colonial-style mansion was the epitome of grandeur, with its bespoke interiors. In her temporary home, Tomoko finally met her mother’s eccentric sister. She also met her uncle’s mother, Grandmother Rosa. In her early eighties, Grandmother Rosa was born in Berlin before moving to Japan at the onset of the First World War. Despite living in Japan for decades, Grandmother Rosa struggled with the language. They were joined by Yoneda, the housekeeper and palpably Rosa’s companion, and Kobayashi, the groundskeeper. It was an eclectic cast of characters but what made Tomoko more fascinated, perhaps more overwhelmed was the sheer opulence exuded by the household. Her aunt’s house was brimming with ostentatiously exquisite objects, including imported furniture, luxurious cosmetics, unique Christmas decorations, and a room for a holistic health treatment called light bathing.

It was a world beyond Tomoko’s imagination. This was just the tip of the iceberg. The vast estate her aunt’s family-owned used to be the local zoo. Remnants of the zoo and its former glory jotted the ground. The single most interesting and most intriguing relic of the zoo and the house was the house pet, Pochiko. Pochiko is not your typical pet as she is an aging Liberian pygmy hippopotamus, a member of an endangered species. The pet’s presence underscores what one can perceive as the novel’s caprice. However, that was the extent of the promise of the story’s whim; the book’s cover leaves so much to be desired. What slowly unfolds is a coming-of-age story of two young girls on the precipice of adulthood. Mina was the other half of the duo at the novel’s heart. Mina was a year younger than Tomoko. However, she had frail health; she was asthmatic and chronically ill, limiting her mobility. She only leaves the household to attend school, riding Pochiko to go there. Mina is also an avid book reader. She might be physically limited but Mina had a vast imagination further cultivated by her love for books.

From the onset, it was palpable that Tomoko was set apart by her keen sense of observation and awareness. She had a propensity to observe and capture astutely everything that was happening around her, particularly those that were foreign to her. She does not easily miss a beat. What ensued was an eye-opening experience as she got to experience a different facet of life, realities far removed from the realities she had to deal with at home. Her aunt’s home never runs out of any form of curiosities which came in the form of objects and people. She never runs out of subjects to observe, understand, and even appreciate. The two cousins grew closer, Mina’s imagination allowing Tomoko a space to occupy. In each other, Mina and Tomoko found a friend and companion. Mina slowly opened her world to her cousin. Together, they escape to the light room where Mina reveals her secret hobby. Mina has an unusual, almost eccentric attachment to matchboxes, keeping a collection with elaborately drawn covers; it is how the book derived its title.

In reality, he was a deliveryman, a role much like the one I played when I took her books back and forth to the library. But in her eyes, he was a traverler arriving on a magic carpet. A traveler who moved freely from the meadow where the elephant played on his seesaw to a starry sky filled with floating searhorses, who carried with him a single matchbox for a young girl every time he rang the bell at the service entrance.

Yōko Ogawa, Mina’s Matchbox

Beyond the façade of perfection lurks secrets that permeate the story; Mina’s matchbox is one of many. Tomoko learns that like most families, Mina’s family had several darker secrets they were obscuring from the rest. Members of the family carried their burdens silently but the crosses they bore didn’t escape Mina’s keen sense of observation. She learns that Mina was distraught by her father’s prolonged absences. It seems that no one except Mina feels his absence. Meanwhile, Mina’s mother resorted to alcoholism and smoking, isolated from the rest of the household. Her dignified demeanor slowly turned into something more sinister. One can also melancholy in Grandmother Rosa’s demeanor. Old family pictures seem to transport her to another world she palpably misses. It begs questions about their fate. Grandmother Rosa was too fixated on her melancholy that she unconsciously built a wall around her; not even Tomoko can seem to penetrate the wall nor can the younger girl console her.

With several questions lingering, Tomoko endeavors to find answers; she described herself as an archaeologist looking for the perfect place to begin my research. Getting to the bottom of these secrets was Ogawa’s substitute for a robust plot. She would find the answers to some of these questions – her astute sense of observation but they are answers she did not expect, leaving her in an impasse. Disclosing them would inevitably cause irreversible pain to some. It was a eureka moment for her, a sort of rite of passage. Beyond the glitz and glamor, are ugly realities far removed from the veneer of perfection. The house was suffering from decay emanating from within. It is a reminder that outward appearances can be deceiving; not everything is as they seem. When Tomoko, as a woman, looks back at the past, she laments the house’s loss but she insists that nothing in the world can dim my memories. Memory, like in Ogawa’s previously translated novels, was germane in the story.

The novel never strays from being a conventional coming-of-age story. Through the two young girl’s adventures and misadventures, they were learning more about themselves. It was not only through matchboxes that they bonded. Books and literature as a whole were essential in Mina’s life. Tomoko grew up in a household with no books, yet again underscoring the stark dichotomy between the lives of the two cousins. Mina, on the other hand, was allowed to read all books, including adult books. Because of her malady, it was to these books that she occupied her time and, in the process, found company. Through books, Mina introduced Tomoko to a new world. Because of her physical limitations, Mina asked Tomoko to borrow books from the local library. It was serendipitous for Tomoko as she developed a crush on the youthful librarian. Layers of sexual awakening were astutely woven into the novel’s lush tapestry.

Books were integral in fueling Mina’s imagination. Mina’s boundless imagination underscores one of the novel’s more riveting facets; it is a novel about literature and storytelling. Mina herself writes eccentric stories about the pictures on the covers of her matchboxes. She does not share these stories with anyone except for Tomoko and by extension, to the readers; it was another layer of secret. Underlining the novel’s intent as an homage to storytelling, several literary pieces were referenced in the story. Mina candidly shared her views and critique of the books that she read. Among the prominent writers mentioned in the story was the first Japanese Nobel Laureate in Literature, Yasunari Kawabata, particularly his works Snow Country and The House of Sleeping Beauties. There was a poignant moment when the family learned about Kawabata’s suicide. As Grandmother Rosa explained to Tomoko: We didn’t know him. We hadn’t even met him. But Kawabata-san was a writer, a man who wrote books. We have some of them here in the house. He wasn’t a friend, but we were connected to him. Everyone reads his books; that’s why we’re so sad.

In volleyabll, the thing to remember is that the serve keeps passing back and forth between teams when no one scores. In any given set, you’ll always have a stretch like that, where you’re going back and forth without scoring. You have to be patient and wait for your opportunity Even if the serve changes hands hundreds of times, you have to take each ball as it comes, without getting anxious. Volleyball is a waiting game.

Yōko Ogawa, Mina’s Matchbox

On the backdrop, Ogawa vividly captures the events taking place both within and outside of Japan. The family gathered around to watch the Japanese national men’s volleyball team win a historic gold at the 1972 Munich Olympics. Mina and Tomoko even discussed members of the team who they liked. The 1972 Olympics is also a historically seminal event in the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. While Ogawa does not place too much weight on this event, it is important in the current historical context. The story also captured the two protagonists gearing up for the Giacobini meteor shower, only to be disappointed. Japan’s post-war economic boom was also highlighted, with repeated references to various vehicles such as cars, carriages, and buses; they also signified movement and change. The Shinkansen, Japan’s high-speed trail, was another symbol of Japan’s progress.

Mina’s Matchbox is a very visual novel. Ogawa was resplendent in capturing the grandeur of the manse, both the interior and exterior. The novel is rife with images; the intricate designs of the matchbox cover are as whimsical as the story can get; some covers include an elephant on a seesaw, a frog playing the ukulele, and a girl catching shooting stars. The matchboxes are then among the novel’s biggest symbols. They contain both darkness and light, underlining the various contrasts that permeate the story: the veneer of a grand and stately mansion belying the decay within, a sophisticated cast of handsome and dignified characters who are undone by the crosses they bear, the opulence of Mina’s family and the simplicity of Tomoko’s, and the innocence of youth and the darker secrets of the adult.

In her latest translated novel, Ogawa provides a new dimension to her storytelling. With each work, she captures a diverse world. In Mina’s Matchbox, she captures in tender prose the coming-of-age of two young girls. Ogawa provides an intimate glimpse into a germane section of their development as individuals albeit it careens more toward Tomoko as Mina’s thoughts are rendered through Tomoko. It is the contrast between them that provides the story different textures and complexions. We read them experience a wide spectrum of emotions, from first love to disappointment to heartaches, all contributing to their understanding of the world that lay before them. Mina’s Matchbox is also a story about the pleasures of reading and books, the intricacies of family dynamics, the vastness of imagination, the nature of storytelling, and the complexities of memory. While playing along similar elements, Ogawa, in Mina’s Matchbox, showcased the depth of her oeuvre and the diversity of her storytelling.

It was an impressive factory, one worthy of having a man like my uncle as its president. The elaborate machines were spotless and worked in perfect rhythm as the employees bent over them in silent concentration. Everything was extraordinarly grand and sophisticated, but at the same time seemed meticulously regulated down to the smallest detail. As though the magnificence of my uncle had taken material shape in this place.

Yōko Ogawa, Mina’s Matchbox
Book Specs

Author: Yōko Ogawa
Translator (from Japanese): Stephen Snyder
Publisher: Pantheon Books
Publishing Date: 2024 (2005)
No. of Pages: 280
Genre: Bildungsroman, Historical

Synopsis

In the spring of 1972, twelve-year-old Tomoko leaves her mother behind in Tokyo and boards a train alone for Ashiya, a coastal town in Japan, to stay with her aunt’s family. Tomoko’s aunt is an enigma and an outlier in her working-class family, and her magnificent home and handsome foreign husband, the president of a soft drink company, are symbols of that status. The seventeen rooms are filled with German-made furnishings; there are sprawling gardens and even an old zoo where the family’s pygmy hippopotamus resides. The family is just as beguiling as their mansion – Tomoko’s dignified and devoted aunt, her German great-aunt, and her dashing, charming uncle, who confidently sits as the family’s patriarch. At the center of the family is Tomoko’s cousin Mina, a precocious, asthmatic girl of thirteen who draws Tomoko into an intoxicating world full of secret crushes and elaborate storytelling.

In this elegant jewel box of a book, Yoko Ogawa invites us to witness a powerful and formative interlude in Tomoko’s life. Behind the family’s sophistication are complications that Tomoko struggles to understand – her uncle’s mysterious absences, her great-aunt’s experience of the Second World War, her aunt’s misery. Rich with the magic and mystery of youthful experience, Mina’s Matchbox is an evocative snapshot of a moment frozen in time – and a striking depiction of a family on the edge of collapse.

About the Author

To learn more about the multi-awarded Yōko Ogawa (小川 洋子), click here.