In Realizing Fun Things through Water, I found it interesting how the author used the theme of water throughout the whole story. First, when the main character's mother-in-law ordered expensive "hyper-organization" water that she claimed prevented cancer. Then, the main character seemed to emotionally drift apart from her partner, as if it was the water that was making her do so. In the end, when she finally hears back from her sister, the sister says she needs to catch a boat. I don't know if that was intended, but it's definitely really interesting to see how the story repeatedly connects water with movement and change. And overall, it seemed like the main character was drifting on water; she would always choose a path of least resistance: whether it was agreeing to get married or accepting the water from her mother-in-law.
When I started reading Seahorse, I thought the main character was initially a mermaid. So it was really surprising to find out she was actually a seahorse. Throughout the whole reading I couldn't help but feel this certain sense of tiredness and even despair. The main character would always say: "I was passed on to my next husband." The use of passive voice made me confused: who was the one who "passed her on" to her first husband? How and why was she the one chosen to be "passed on"? Did she ever agree to this? Throughout the whole story the main character was always limited in her freedom. One of the husbands even put her on a chain so she wouldn't come to the ocean. After being passed on so often, she slowly started to physically and mentally lose pieces of who she was. The use of passive voice made it seem like the main character wasn't a human being, but an object to be used.
I actually found Dissecting Misogyny a bit disturbing. But I'm just pretty sensitive when it comes to such explicit descriptions. Matsuda's approach to describing a process so graphic and violent made it look like it was something ordinary, like a moment from one of those TV shops where they try to sell you a set of knives so they try to show how easy it is to use them. The tone that the author used was so casual, as if it was her 1000th time doing the same thing all over again. I think this is the main reason why I found it so disturbing: the feeling of absolute detachment coming from the lady doing this whole tutorial. Or she was so used to this that it's no longer disturbing for her. Maybe Matsuda used this as a metaphor for what it feels like to fight misogyny in today's society: it happens so often that you do it on autopilot.
I've actually read Convenience Store Woman back in high school, so it was nice to refresh my memory. Keiko is constantly being judged throughout the story. First, it's her friends who seem to have a problem with her relationship status and job choice. Then, it's Shiraha who thinks she should get another job to feed them both. But I think Keiko is doing perfectly fine on her own terms. People around her find it concerning that she is unmarried and has been working at a convenience store for more than 18 years. They think something is wrong simply because Keiko doesn't seem interested in things they consider important. Shiraha, on the other hand, seems to know it all about how Keiko should actually live her life so that he can also be the one benefitting from the change. I didn't really like him. In Russian, I would call him the "couch critic": critiquing everyone for doing everything the wrong way (because only he knows how to do things right) from his couch. For others, Keiko's life is unsuccessful, but what if Keiko is absolutely fine and content with her life as it is? Who actually gets to decide what a successful life looks like?
Ekuni Kaori's Picnic focuses on the psychological distance that can exist between people who are physically together. The married couple seemed quite mentally disconnected from each other, even though they would have picnics with each other often. Kyoko, the wife, even bought an expensive picnic set, which, to me, made the picnics look more like a routine or a performance. The moment I found the most concerning was the fact that Kyoko couldn't remember her husband's name. Instead, she would call him "the dearest." I think she was so mentally alienated from Hiroyuki, but she still tried to create a temporary feeling of connection by hosting these picnics every now and then. The picnic became some sort of mask for the problems in their relationship.
Tomo-chan's Happiness shows a more complicated idea of one's happiness. Throughout the story, we follow Tomo-chan's healing journey from her traumatic experiences in the past. Tomo-chan doesn't completely forget what happened to her, she actually doesn't even try to erase it. Instead, she chooses to keep on going while still carrying her past. She doesn't need to erase a part of her life to continue living. Tomo-chan still allows her to experience something new despite all of the trauma that she has gone through. She lets her heart remain open for the possibility of love, even if it's just a work crush (for now!). My favorite part was probably when the author breaks the fourth wall at the end of the story. Tomo-chan is, in fact, never alone, even when it seems like she only has herself when recovering from trauma. She has some sort of spiritual connection with the world around her. And her memories, some traumatic and some warm, still follow her around. Her inner world is so vast; and the fact that she continues to be so open to life proves that she is never alone.
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