There is something -- perhaps everything -- about this Showa era Japanese anthology I'm reading which quiets the mind while stirring the senses. I was able to relate in my own little ways: seeing childhood home besotted with another family's improvements, life force, the sounds of their pets, their weird vegetable gardens, e.g.
This anthology is largely comprised of sensitive and often marginalized authors who lived through Japan's (misnamed?) era of "enlightenment and peace" and took slices of what they saw and blew them up into 15, 19-page stories. Women writers, too, included in this selection.
The bee of my mind is engrossed, four stories in, I want to go to Tokyo to see my brother one day.
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