I was initially drawn to The Thorn Puller by Hiromi Ito because of its unique blend of Japanese and American cultures, woven together with poetic prose. As a fan of Japanese literature, I was excited to experience a new and lyrical voice, and Ito does not disappoint.

What I love about this book is the way it blurs the lines between fact and fiction. Ito's use of myth and Japanese animistic religions adds depth and richness to the stories, making it difficult to discern what is real and what is imagined. The result is a reading experience that is both fascinating and emotional.

I appreciated the way Ito explores themes of migration, individualism, aging, and mortality, as well as the social pressures placed on women to be caregivers. Her personal journey as a daughter, wife, and mother is both relatable and thought-provoking.

One of the strengths of the book is its language, which is masterfully translated by Jeffrey Angles. The writing style is fluid and evocative, making it easy to become immersed in the stories.

While some parts of the book may feel a bit lengthy, I found myself eager to continue reading, drawn in by Ito's poetic prose. Overall, I would highly recommend The Thorn Puller to fans of Japanese literature and poetry, as well as anyone interested in exploring different cultures.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Stone Bridge Press for providing an advance copy of the book for review.

This was a fantastic and moving read.
As someone who is dealing with the same issues in my personal life - immigration, aging parents, death of a loved one, I found this to be extremely relatable and very well written.

Honestly did not finish! I wish I liked this more. Perhaps it was the translation that didn't quite do it for me, but I just couldn't get into it. At some point after 25% I put it down and didn't pick it back up.

DNF at 30%. The premise was interesting enough, but the execution was not my cup of tea—a typical case of "it's not you, it's definitely me". Couldn't get into it and while I tried to persevere, I ultimately left it unfinished.

An absolutely gorgeous novel to read. Written it a way that captures the readers attention, poetic and almost close to be like a stream of consciousness, helping the story to sit within your mind. A telling story of life, love, grief of watching someone you know fade away. Flitting between two different cultures, with somewhat dramatic differences. This is a beautiful book, reminding us of the fragility and strengths of what it is to live.

This novel delves into the complexities of aging and mortality, striking a chord with readers facing similar challenges. Through a mix of essays, diary entries, and vivid depictions of her parents' health struggles, Ito explores the profound responsibilities she bears as a middle-aged woman divided between California and Japan. Her unorthodox approach blends poetry, literature, and mythology, creating a unique exploration of death and loss.

This book presents an honest portrayal of her frustrations and emotions. This dense yet compelling book sheds light on the often-overlooked experiences of women caregivers, while also offering glimpses of hope and resilience.

The story is so lyrical and poetic, which automatically makes it something I’m predisposed to loving. And I did love this! The relationships in this book were so complex and real. I enjoyed reading about the nuances of Japanese culture, though I do feel like I would have appreciated this book more if I was more familiar with Japan.

This is such a surprisingly gorgeous and completely heartfelt book. The narrator is moving through the tragedies of everyday life, caring for her dying mother, trying to cope with her husband’s failing health while also being the best mother she can to her young daughter, and yes allowing herself to complain about how tough and confusing it is, to be pulled in so many directions, and to be doing a poor job at caring for any of the people you love because you simply don’t have the time; and yet. What a beautiful chronicle of love this brief book is. Love, and faith, that things will get better. It’s hard for me to express how much this writing moves me. The way it doesn’t look away from what’s ugly and painful about being human—we get a no nonsense precise blow by blow story of her mother’s physical wasting away, of the daily impossible grind of caring for (and about) too many people at once—and then the writing soars effortlessly into deeply resonant poetic reveries, observations so beautiful that they seem to argue that any amount of suffering is worth it, to live in a world so filled with unexpected splendor.

I’m so grateful to have read this book.

Thank you to Netgalley for providing me with this ARC in return for a fair review.

The Thorn Puller is a beautifully written piece of literature, told by Japanese poet Hiromi Ito. It is a story about parenting, being a daughter, ageing mixed in with analogies from folklore and spirituality.

Hiromi is a woman who constantly travels between her parents in Japan and her husband and children in America, often struggling to balance the two. Her parents are getting older and need to be cared for prompting Hiromi herself to discuss the finality of life.

I thought this story was a beautiful work of poetry intertwined with literature although there were a lot of concepts that sometimes went over my head. I think this is a book i’d love to revisit when I am older as though some parts discussing womanhood were relatable, most of the life experience discussed in the book, I have not yet experienced myself and so I believe it will be even more impactful on me in about 20 years or so. Overall, I enjoyed learning more about the Japanese faith and customs and coming back to the story in between my studies was very calming and reflective.

I give it a 3 stars out of 5 but definitely will come back to it some day and no doubt will probably rate it higher. Any fans of literary fiction and memoirs should definitely pick this one up!

This semi-autobiographical novel follows the fortunes of a middle-aged Japanese woman torn between her aging parents in Japan and her husband and daughters in America, all of whom make demands on her time and attention so that she is constantly conflicted about where she should be and with whom. She has to cross back and forth between Japan and the US whilst also dealing with her own work and health issues. It’s the first novel to appear in English from the acclaimed Japanese author Hiromi Ito, who is also a poet, something that is in evidence throughout the book. Elements of Japanese folklore and literature are frequently included in the narrative, with short notes at the end of each chapter explaining where Ito got these “voices” from, something which is helpful indeed for a non-Japanese reader. The title comes from the “Thorn-Pulling Jizo”, a bodhisattva who is believed to be able to remove the “thorns” of suffering that afflict the worshippers who visit his shrine in Sugamo. The combination of fiction and non-fiction, prose and poetry, myth and legend is all well integrated into the storyline, making this an unusual, and sometimes challenging, novel, but the core of the book focussing on the narrator’s pressure to be a good daughter, wife and mother, exacerbated for her by being based on two different continents, is something that will be familiar to many women who have to juggle their roles, leaving little time for themselves. So although I feel the book will perhaps be better appreciated by a Japanese readership, the human story at the heart of it gives it a universal application, and I very much enjoyed it.

Hiring Ito is an award-winning Japanese poet and author and this is the first of her novels that has been translated into English. In it, she talks us through the difficulties she experiences trying to take care of her two families; her ageing parents in Japan, and her ageing husband in the US, and the clash of those two cultures, which is particularly noticeable with her young daughter who occasionally accompanies her to Japan.

It's less of a novel and more a series of essays where she uses different voices and pieces of poetry to express her self. She is brutally honest about the ageing process and her relationship problems. I found the non linear narrative a bit jarring, and whilst I can see the merits of the book, I didn't love it. Perhaps I would have if I'd read it at a different time; maybe it's better read in the Spring when things are looking up. I do still have a few chapters left, so I will finish slowly.

*Many thanks to Netgalley and the publishers for a review copy in exchange for an honest opinion.*

A welcome appearance in an English translation of a Hiromi Ito novel, this is a beautifully crafted novel which explores the delicate balance of family and culture. Poised between poetry and prose, Ito's work is eye-opening. I look forward to more of her work in the near future.

(With thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC of this title.)

i really wanted to like this but i found the tone removed and the writing didn't particularly draw me in. i'm sure that other readers will be better able to connect with this.

Wow….. I loved the insights into Japanese culture, religion, and landscape descriptions, simply gorgeous! Entirely beautiful, bruising and hopeful! I felt every word that was written.

A book that feels poetic and very real, The Thorn Puller for me was a fascinating and in moments and emotional read about family, aging and mortality that really leaves with you alot of thoughts.

Working together stories of her life through prose and poetry, this book shares the stories of Hiromi as she moves between two different countries caring for her husband and her parents. This book almost feels like a diary and an expelling of thoughts as she deals with her own feelings and the things effecting all of her family.

I appreciated her emotive and raw style of writing as she pens everything in her head down and allows an insight into her way of thinking as she travels between her two families. As a carer, finding the balance between finding time for yourself and doing all you can for the people around you is incredibly difficult and that position is reflected so well in this book.

a poignant and thoughtful book that brings together a whole 'story' that gives you an insight into Hiromi's life. It wasn't what I expected, but I'm glad it wasn't.

(I received an ARC from Netgalley for honest review).

I’ve always switched my phone off when I go to sleep. Since the last 5 years, though, I’ve started leaving my phone in, and within hearing range. One of my greatest fears now is that the phone will ring in the middle of the night, and it will be a parent. This book felt so relatable, reading it was nearly cathartic. When this book was written, Ito was in her 50s, her partner was in his 70s, her parents were in their late 80s, and one of her daughters was starting school, the other 2 were in their 20s. Her parents lived in Japan, while she lived in California. They were starting to feel the frailty of their bodies, as was her partner, and her little girl depended on her too. She describes navigating complex hospital procedures, where there’s such an information asymmetry, and an overburdened healthcare system. I could identify with that, having faced it in my family as well, multiple times, with doctors tending to palm you off to other departments, and getting a diagnosis was very difficult. Ito is also shuttling between California and Japan, and I can’t begin to imagine juggling schedules when there are emergencies, and you have to make an unplanned international flight. There were times when I thought she was rather unsupportive of her partner, though, but she’s being brutally honest, and at that instant, probably felt impatient when there were so many pressures weighing on her. All this while dealing with her own intimations of mortality. She weaves this in with meditations on living, dignified deaths, healthcare for the elderly, faith and the things we draw comfort from. The book is published by Stone Bridge Press, that publishes books on matters related to Japan, and Japanese writers as well. Hiromi Ito is a famous Japanese poet, and this is her first novel to be translated into English, and the translator, Jeffrey Angles does a wonderful job in rendering her lines metaphorically and fluidly. I’m going to be keeping an eye on Stone Bridge Press’ catalogue, for more evocative narratives like this.

In a wonderful series of essays (to try and put a genre to these pieces), Hiromi Ito writes about death, life, mothering, sex, parents, and ageing. She’s never afraid of confronting head-on the things we all fear, and presents us with her thoughtful, warm, often laugh-out-loud funny, and sometimes extremely cringeworthy thoughts. It’s the utter grimness of life, and the exquisitely tender moments; Ito shows us life can be both, sometimes at the same time.

This collection is a masterpiece of craft, and I loved it! It really is the most unusual and unexpected read; I never really knew where she was going to take us. Although these are very personal essays, they came across to me as powerfully feminist. I feel I may have lost out in not knowing the specific references to Japanese writers (Ito “borrows” voices, and there are notes at the end of each section, to explain); regardless, Ito’s authorial voice—through the translator—is strong, and distinctive.

Read if you’re interested in the themes mentioned above, and if you enjoy creative non-fiction. Somehow, with mentions of poop and penises, Ito manages to elevate the ordinary in this marvelous book.

Thank you to Stone Bridge Press and to NetGalley for this ARC.

I loved the insights into Japanese culture, religion, and landscape descriptions, as well as the story of the author's conflicts between her husband and children in the U.S., and her duties towards her fragile aging parents in Japan. I also enjoyed the poetry she inserts into the novel throughout, and the references to the many Japanese and western writers and thinkers whose "voices" she uses in her narrative.

An unusual book, a poetic memoir of sorts, about a woman poet's life juggling home and duty while flying between the two countries and two different worlds, far apart.

Hiromo Ito, a poet, is struggling to care for her aging parents in Japan while also tending to her partner and children in California. Flying back and forth between east and west, Ito contemplates family responsibilities, aging, and dying, and how they differ in the two worlds she inhabits. The book blends autofiction with Japanese folklore, poetry, Buddhism and animist spirituality. The title comes from a name for the deity Jizo who is believed to pull out the thorns of suffering from humans, and Ito's hope for his intervention permeates the novel. It's an experimental novel that's both thought-provoking and moving. Thanks to Stone Bridge Press and Netgalley for for an advanced reader's copy.

The protagonist of Hiromi Ito's debut English-language book, Ito, lives in the USA but frequently travels to Japan to care for her elderly parents who have made their home there. She also has children and an aged, demanding husband at her home.

The author discusses topics including migration, individualism, aging, and mortality, as well as the social pressures placed on women to be caregivers, as was noted in the introduction. We may also observe the impact that cultural variations have on our daily lives through Ito's journey.

The writing style of the author is difficult to pin down. To find the right speech for conveying her actual sentiments, it seems as though she switches from prose to poetry or vice versa. Reading this book was both interesting and emotional for me because I share a predicament with the author.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Stone Bridge Press to provide an ARC of the book for reviewers.