I found Toh Enjoe's Twelve Twitter Stories to be the most confusing out of all of the readings this week. I think it's because of its structure: twelve abrupt stories formatted as Twitter posts. The communication in this piece felt ambiguous, as every passage could be a separate post or a response to someone else's. The themes discussed in the Tweets also seem to be very random, ranging from a story of a man slathered in butter throwing himself into the crowd to a user allegedly being appointed Prime Minister. Because of the lack of context, every passage tells us what allegedly happened. We, as readers, can truly never know whether what we are reading is true. I think the reader's imagination plays a very important role in this story, and maybe that was the author's intention: to shift the "responsibility" of making meaning onto the audience.
In the excerpt of I Want to Kick You in the Back Wataya Risa tells the story of Hasegawa, a high school student struggling to navigate her human relationships. The excerpt tells us about Hasegawa encountering Ninagawa, a male classmate obsessed with a model Oli-chan. Throughout the whole story, we get a glimpse of Hasegawa's life. Once a close friend of hers, Kinuyo, is now in a completely different friend group, and Hasegawa is not a part of it. I found their dialogue to be very interesting. Kinuyo seems to be okay with her friend being excluded from a group activity in class earlier on. And after being pretty much forced to apologize, she doesn't seem to care much. Kinuyo's behavior speaks louder than her words. Yes, she did apologize verbally, but these words can't compare to her earlier actions: she forgot about Hasegawa, or, more like, she stopped caring about her. Even when Kinuyo invited her to join them to play cards together, her gesture seemed more like an attempt to make up for what she did earlier, rather than a genuine act of friendship.
I liked Ao Omae's People Who Talk to Stuffed Animals Are Nice the most. I really liked the protagonist's thoughts on the topics of love, friendship, and relationships in general. Even though, as Nanamori said, he didn't know what it felt like to love someone romantically, I think he did know how to love. This could be a greater discussion about what love essentially is and if it's inherently tied to romance. Nanamori sees himself as someone who doesn't know how to love simply because of his lack of typical romantic attraction. However, his empathy, his sensitivity to the feelings of others, and even his gentleness toward the stuffed animals show that he knows how to care. I found Nanamori's story to question the things society defines love by. The characters who talked to stuffed animals reminded me of a character from one of the previous readings, where the main character found talking to water quite therapeutic. I think such interactions are tied to the desire for empathy and the need of a safe space for emotional vulnerability. One of the biggest fears humans often face is the fear of judgement, and talking to things allows the characters to process their complex emotions.
In Hunchback by Saou Ishikawa, the protagonist, Shaka, suffers from a disease that has severely curved her spine, making her very physically limited. However, her inner world is very active. She writes erotic stories and posts her provocative opinions on social media. Virtually, she has created a completely different identity for herself. No one on social media knows what Shaka is going through in real life. Even though her posts don't get much attention, Shaka's ability to express herself without any barriers matters most to her. This reading connects to my thoughts on Twelve Twitter Stories: it's very hard (and almost impossible sometimes) to truly know the human behind a digital persona. And now, in the age of AI, sometimes it's not even a person writing these posts. On social media, Shaka's identity is reduced to the words in her posts. But in real life, she is going through much more. I found her desire to get an abortion quite concerning. But maybe that was the only way for her to control something within her body? I remember her reminiscing about her days in school, when she was the one with the perfect posture, but now her spine has become curved due to a sickness that was out of her control. Maybe that's why she wants to have an abortion: to regain that sense of control in a world where she has lost control over almost everything else.
I found Hiroko Oyamada's The Hole quite unsettling. In the beginning of the story, Asahi quits her job to move with her husband for his work. She then becomes a housewife, with her days being a blur of cooking, listening to cicadas, waiting for her husband to get back from work, taking occasional naps, and going to the store in the morning. Back in the city, when she used to have a job, she had somewhat of a social circle. Now, her life is defined by the relationships with her husband and his family. I found the fact that she didn't even have a car she could use really weird. It almost felt like her husband's family didn't give her one on purpose, so she wouldn't be able to do almost anything by herself and would have to stay inside. Just like what happened to her when she fell in the hole: she couldn't get out by herself. Maybe the hole was a metaphor for the new life she "fell into": her husband's move was just as unexpected, and so was her lifestyle change. And when she was in the hole, she couldn't get out, just like how it is with her new life: she can't leave this passive housewife life of hers, as if in she had gotten into a trap.