CONTEMPORARY JAPANESE LITERATURE
Book Review: Where the Wild Ladies Are by Aoko Matsuda
Japanese folklore in a modern setting from a female perspective
I grew up reading Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are, so the title of Aoko Matsuda’s book was enough to pique my curiosity.
After finishing the book, I thought that the title was great fit because just like Where the Wild Things Are transports kids to a strange yet charming world full of monsters, Where the Wild Ladies Are does the same thing for adults.
Where the Wild Ladies Are is a collection of short stories translated by Polly Barton that are loosely connected by certain recurring characters. Each story is a modern retelling of a classic Japanese folktale or ghost story, and most of them are told from the perspective of a female character.
Many of the stories implicitly or explicitly touch on social issues in Japan. However, one doesn’t have to be well versed in Japan’s current events to understand this book because a number of the issues depicted such as single motherhood, self-esteem, and a lack of work opportunities for young people are big topics in pretty much every country.
At the same time, some details about this book could have only come from Japan. Stories about figures such as Tomihime, for example, are inseparable from locations like Himeji Castle.
Also, in the tradition of certain creatures such as oni, the supernatural figures and happenings in Wild Ladies are connected to some kind of societal “other.” Keeping this in mind, it makes complete sense that women, foreigners, and men struggling with unemployment/underemployment are the main characters.
Despite some of the heavy themes it covers, the text of the book isn’t dense. It’s an entertaining read that can be funny, serious, or lighthearted, often within the same story.
One of my favorite examples is the story “What She Can Do,” which follows a divorced mother trying to look after her young child.
People harshly judge this mother as irresponsible for a variety of reasons. They judge her for marrying a man who “wasn’t the parental sort,” but they also judge her for getting divorced.
Anonymous people use these reasons as justification for not offering the mother help, even as she leaves her child home alone at night so she can go to work.
This is when a figure known as the Child-Rearing Ghost steps in. When the mother leaves for work at night, the ghost will appear to look after the child. Rather than being frightening, the ghost is a comfort to the child and gives her sweets. In this story, the dead have more kindness and sympathy than the living.
One more feature of Wild Ladies that adds to its enjoyment is a section in the back pages that explains all of the original folktales that inspired the book’s short stories. Some of these tales have been adapted into kabuki performances, and others are closely connected to famous sites around Japan.
No matter what, this section of the book is interesting because it provides context for each story and can educate culture buffs on some of Japan’s famous classic tales.
All in all, short story collections aren’t normally something I’m drawn to, but Matsuda’s book was a welcome step outside my usual choice of books. I have reread it multiple times as of this writing, and I look forward to revisiting the stories again soon.
