Book No 6 in my Japanese period.

This one starts out like a 20's something soap set around a bunch of people who share a flat. Their individual stories unfold one a time gradually creating some depth and colour to what starts out as superficial and grey. As the book progresses it does that Japanese thing where it slowly morphs into a metaphysical discussion about existence and meaning and identity whilst not losing the initial flavour of a 20's something soap.

It then does something else entirely (which I won't divulge as it would spoil it for you) that caught me completely by surprise.

All up a good read and nice view into contemporary values and culture. ( )

Parade is a seamy novel by a Japanese novelist. It does not fit nicely into the "crime novel" formula. Its characters do not care if you are staring at them in horror and fascination. Its plot is not concerned with your level of patience. Though it has a similar texture to Natsuo Kirino's gritty murder books, it is quieter, and couldn't have made less noise as it slid into English translation. Where are all the other translations of Yoshida? There is also a book called Villain. But Parade was my introduction to his work. Villain was a nice after dinner snack. It was damn good, but it did not keep me thinking about it for days afterward, as did this little gem.

I do not feel the need to analyze the character motivations, the atmosphere, the literary style or the intense disturbing quality of this book. (I do feel the need to reread it.) I would rather encourage you to discover it yourself. It is one of my favorite novels from Japan - and I've read a fair amount of them. But picking it apart would ruin the point. I didn't feel like examining Ryu Murakami's literary intentions when I read In the Miso Soup. I just wanted to witness a breathtaking cinematic gore-infused nightmare. This one beats Kirino hands down. It throws down the gauntlet when set beside bad-boy Ryu. But who ever talks about Shuichi Yoshida? The writing is not as polished as Ryu Murakami's but the atmospheric conditions of the novel are comparable. Yoshida has the casual, almost careless style of a crime writer, but somehow manages to wipe the floor with Seichō Matsumoto. If you liked Matsumoto's A Quiet Place, this will also tickle your fancy, but it'll be more of a deep-tissue massage, maybe blunt force trauma. Expect the unexpected in the third act. Try to be bored; I dare you. This is another Japanese writer writing whatever the hell he wants, and my eyes are begging for more.

The only other things of his in English I've found is obviously Villain and a beautiful short story in [b:The Book of Tokyo: A City in Short Fiction|18330268|The Book of Tokyo A City in Short Fiction|Michael Emmerich|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1518858392l/18330268._SY75_.jpg|25874943] If you know of any other English stories in existence please let me know. I can tell Yoshida has what it takes to give Murakami a run for his money as my favorite novel-producing machine currently in Japan. I'm sorry, Keigo Higashino, but I'm just not that into you. Can we get some translations over here?

I admire when a writer deviates boldly. Subversion. Scare tactics. All the required ingredients of escapism are present here. Like Murakami's work, it is super easy to relate to these characters. They are young, of course, bored, dissatisfied, opinionated, ever so slightly witty, libidinous, angst-ridden - apply whatever adjective you will. In the end, there is plot, there is character development, but the intricacies congeal into an amorphous whole. I could live in this novel for a while. And I know I will revisit it. Slip into the shady, retro, bleak and quirky Tokyo Yoshida provides. Dark secrets abound in this singular work of subtle and not-so subtle inter-character relations. See if it haunts you like it does me. ( )

My journey through faintly baffling Japanese fiction continues. This novel caught my eye with its promise of an insight into the dislocation and atomisation of modern Japanese society. And yet, once again, it has turned out to be one of those books that rather frustrates me: a study of the pointlessness of contemporary life, and the strange dynamics of communal living. In a small apartment in Tokyo, four flatmates have built up a delicate modus vivendi. Brought together by chance, they hang out, watch films, eat takeaways and give life advice to one another, but without ever revealing their true selves. Some are strivers, some wasters: a characteristic mixture of millennial types. One by one, they take over the narration of the story, offering us the chance to glimpse their inner lives and the way that they are both reliant upon and dismissive of their flatmates. And so the book quietly unfolds, following each of the characters in turn as they deal with the essential aimlessness of their lives. They try to create drama by theorising about the activities of their mysterious neighbour, while around them the grim realities of the wider world barely seem to touch them: the car accidents at the nearby junction are nothing but a strange fascination, while the spate of attacks on women in the local area are less important than the mythologies of their own lives.

For the full review, please see my blog:
https://theidlewoman.net/2017/05/30/parade-shuichi-yoshida/ ( )

Well this is quite excellent. Published in 2002 but only translated into English now, it is the most realistic depiction of twenty somethings and Japanese culture I have read for some time. Bored and listless, our protagonists don't rebel, don't attempt to "find themselves", don't attempt to take control of their lives. They simply passively exist and have no ambition or enthusiasms

2 Boys and 2 Girls share a flat. Disconnected from their families, and seemingly having few real friends they increasingly depend on each other without delving below the surface or forming real friendship bonds. As one says, "its like living in an Internet chat room".

Ryosuke, a shy college student spends his Sundays staring at the traffic below wondering why cars don't crash at the traffic lights. He somehow manages to start an affair with Kawako, the girlfriend of his college mentor, and pursues it listlessly whilst taking a part time job cooking in a Mexican restaurant. Koto, sits and waits for her actor boyfriend to call, which he occasionally does. She cleans the apartment and watches TV. Mirai parties constantly but joylessly, battles constant hangovers and watches rape scenes from films to calm herself. Naoki has the best job, with a film distributer, and is seemingly the most well adjusted even if constantly bugged by his ex girlfriend who feels more at home with him than her new, respectable, boyfriend. And in his own way, he does take action to break the listlessness

Suddenly Satoru arrives, younger than the rest, seemingly homeless and with a mysterious night job, he is either dragged home drunkenly by Mirai, or breaks in and makes himself at home. Either is possible - as Satoru admits, everything he says is made up. He despises his new flatmates, and sees through the fronts each put up but then finds himself irresistibly pulled to their artificial community, and
it is Satoru who is on hand to pull the household together and restore "normality" when a final crisis happens.

The ending is somewhat inevitable given the way the book is structured, but is no less surprising and morally ambiguous for that. I left the book wanting more and wondering how the last decade has treated the flatmates. I somehow feel Koto is still there, watching TV, waiting for the phone to ring ( )

Thank you to Vintage Publishing for the eARC.

Parade is the kind of book my friends would say is stereotypical of my reading habits – ‘set in Japan, not much happens and then it gets all weird’. While I wouldn’t say that Parade is ‘all weird’, there are a few kooky and creepy revelations in a novel that is character driven, rather than by plot. I love this kind of book, especially when it’s set in Japan. I don’t know why, but a big Japanese city location with characters that are fighting their inner demons is the makings of a great story for me. I think Japanese novels (this book has been translated into English by Philip Gabriel) and their characters open themselves more completely to the reader, revealing both the positive and negative sides of a person. It’s refreshingly honest.

Parade is centred on four occupants of an apartment in Tokyo. All are young and all have problems of their own to face. The flatmates, two boys and two girls, hang out quite a lot in between work and study. They are quite different, but appear to get on well together. Each chapter is told from the third person perspective of one of the flatmates. First is Ryosuke, who is studying in Tokyo to try to make something of himself. He’s not really enthused about university, more about his increasing affection for his older friend’s girlfriend and whether he should make a play for her. Then there’s Kotomi, who left a good job in Sapporo after realising that she’s not happy. Now she sits on the couch in the flat waiting for her college sweetheart (an up and coming actor) to call, day in, day out. Mirai is an artist on the weekend, a store manager by day and heavy drinker at night. Unknown to her, it’s Mirai that brings Satoru home one drunken night. Satoru’s young and works by night in the park – but what does he do? Nobody really knows much about him (and Satoru tells them all different stories), but all the flatmates are eager to help him out. Finally, there’s Naoki, the eldest and original occupant of the flat. He’s got an on/off girlfriend, a great job and a secret. Eventually, this group will find out they do more than share an apartment…

I really liked the way we got to know each character in detail from ‘their’ chapter. Yoshida also gently introduces more about the next character to come, so by the time I got to Naoki’s chapter (the last one), I felt like I knew him. The characters are all quite dissimilar, but each has something you can identify with, such as Ryosuke’s determination to please his parents or Kotomi’s search for happiness. Due to their ages (late teens to late twenties), there are also plenty of activities that you can identify with (both good and bad): excessive drinking, lazing away, films and TV. Kotomi’s age and naivety also assist in establishing that there’s something weird going on in the apartment next door, where men enter and schoolgirls exit, crying. This subplot is both creepy and amusing, which gets the flatmates completely unsettled, missing the bigger picture.

You may be thinking that all the flatmates sound like cosy, good friends but it’s Satoru, the outsider who identifies that they’re not – more ‘playing at friends’. Dig deeper and you find that each person is hiding something from the others, trying to keep something hidden in a place where there’s very little privacy. Some of the flatmates do it better than others – but can they hide their true selves?

I can’t say that I saw the ending coming at all, but the reaction of the group was very interesting. Given their jumpiness over the apartment next door and its possible activities, their reaction to a crime was almost non-existent – passive and accepting. Is this a reflection on young people today not caring about society or self-absorption? Is it a comment on the changing face of Japan, a society that thinks of the group before the individual?

I found this book fascinating for what it revealed about these characters and about society in general. With that slight sense of uneasiness, it was a perfect read for me.

http://samstillreading.wordpress.com ( )