I recently read Sam Bett & David Boyd’s translation of ‘Breasts and Eggs’ by Mieko Kawakami and it got me thinking
In 2021, I wanted to read more fiction books. I felt that I was consuming too many non-fiction / self-help books which wasn’t exciting to read anymore, I needed those sweet escapes that a story books could give me, and so I made a pile of mostly fiction books to read this year. I wanted to read Breasts and Eggs because I had read Ms Ice Sandwich and fell in love with Kawakami’s writing style, or rather the essence of her writing since I was reading an English translation, nonetheless I adored the way she wrote from the perspective of a little boy, the story was short but packed with emotions which fascinated me.
B&E is a story structured in two parts told from the perspective of a Japanese woman, Natsuko, with a career in writing; in the first part, she’s in her early twenties picking up older sister, Makiko, and niece, Midoriko, from the train, her family are visiting her in Tokyo from Osaka, Makiko sets an appointment at a clinic there to get her breasts done, meanwhile Midoriko has recently stopped speaking, and the second part is set 9 years later after she has published her writing, is now an acclaimed writer and desires to have her own child without a partner. This story is about working-class womanhood, and is deeply intimate; I adore sibling dynamics, especially sisterhood, so I loved how Kawakami paints Natsuko and Makiko’s relationship, I was also moved by the depiction of motherhood from Makiko and Midoriko’s characters, which felt like an authentic portrait of a working single mother, and the portrayal of loneliness which Natsuko’s character experiences struck me the most, although it was intense, I relate on an emotional level.
I’ve always found Japanese literature intriguing; I’m not sure exactly what it is, but Japanese authors have a unique way of illustrating the theme of loneliness in their stories, from the build up to how they develop their characters, it hits me to my core because I too am lonely. The turns this novel takes felt natural, and I was surprised in a good way that I as a reader couldn’t feel comfortable in taking a side as to what Natsuko should and shouldn’t do (or want for herself) in her situation. I love novels that digs into grey areas, and womanhood has so many grey areas to explore. On the one hand, it really is crazy to think of artificially inseminating yourself with someone else’s sperm in order to have a child that you’ll then raise on your own (at least for the most parts), and on the other hand, why should non-partnered women who are capable of providing for a child and desire to experience motherhood be prohibited from having that experience? Could being self-partnered and artificial insemination become a norm in the future? Maybe. I myself currently see many women who are moving away from investing in men, living full lives on their own terms, which I think is a beautiful thing, though it comes with its own sacrifices and challenges. Natsuko explores almost all aspects of the coin’s two sides; there’s Yuriko who presents an anti-natalist argument against bringing a life into the world, Makiko is also not entirely on board and does call her out for perhaps being impulsive, then Natsuko meets Onda and is put off from choosing to inseminate herself with this creepy bloke’s sperm, but Aizawa tells her he’s willing to provide her his sperm in order for her to have a child, and everything happens naturally. Aizawa is a man she respects, even adores at one point, so she’s fine with him being the father of her child. The ending surprised me because I wasn’t expecting for it to be that full of a conclusion, which is honestly great though I was fully prepared for an open-ended, mystery, question-mark ending. In the end, Natsuko and Aizawa don’t have a relationship beyond being co-parents, so the romance had an end, but it wasn’t all that upsetting because Natsuko herself is okay with being unpartnered. A very intriguing novel for the themes it presents, and great contemporary, working-class take on those themes too!
I never would’ve thought that this conversation on companionship, being self-partnered and reproductive rights could be brought to the forefront and discussed openly, let alone be depicted in fiction, so I’m very happy to hold this book in my hands which deserves all the praise and love from readers all around the world. At first glance, this wouldn’t be a fiction story I’d think a lot of people would want to read, most people tend to gravitate towards portrayals of romance and even if audiences want to see an “independent woman” it’s through a limiting lens that doesn’t bring much nuances, so I think this book is ground-breaking for being bold and daring whilst telling a story that feels natural.
5-star novel for me for sure 💕 Loved the touch of magical realism too, I thought it was great and well done. I’m curious to know Midoriko’s story 9 years later, though I understand why she’s not part of the narrative since part 2 focuses Natsuko’s story who is the story’s narrator. I believe this book deserves a movie adaptation too, because it has those cinematic moments, and the characters are so well written I think they’ll translate well onto screen. More novels about grey areas in womanhood journey, please!
Last updated: August 15th 2021
