First published in 2013, Yūko Tsushima’s dense, demanding novel revolves around themes of contamination, guilt, shame and discrimination in Japanese society. Shifting between past and present, it unfolds over the course of sixty years, presented by multiple narrators whose voices frequently overlap and intertwine. These are people whose memories are as vivid as their current realities. At the centre of Tsushima’s story are Mitch (Michio), Kaz (Kazuo) and Yonko (Yuriko), friends since early childhood. Mitch and Kaz are representative of those once contemptuously referred to as “Konketsuji” or “the children of mixed-blood.” They’re the stigmatised offspring of Japanese women and American servicemen based in Japan post-WW2, some the result of consensual affairs, others of violent sexual assault. Mitch, Kaz and Yonko are connected through three women who also met early on in life: one ran the Yokohama orphanage where Mitch and Kaz were abandoned as babies; the other Sister Yae adopted Mitch and Kaz; the third, Yonko’s mother, became part of their ‘found family.’

Through the intersecting experiences of Mitch, Kaz and Yonko, Tsushima examines issues of alienation and identity, challenging cultural myths of a homogeneous, monoracial Japan - shored up by notions of the importance of heritage, purity of blood. Mitch and Kaz also symbolise those aspects of Japanese history that’ve been suppressed, suggesting a Japan in which denial’s deep-rooted: from the brutalities of the postwar years through to responses to events like the Fukushima nuclear disaster. Denial that’s underlined by Mitch, Kaz and Yonko’s inability to come to terms with a mystery from their childhood, the death of another orphan Miki from unknown causes, possibly an accident, possibly murder because of her biracial identity. Miki’s orange skirt, the one she was wearing when she died, feeds into the intricate imagery around light and colour that surfaces throughout Tsushima’s novel.

Tsushima’s title hints at aspects of her preoccupations. The dome refers to Runit Dome, a nuclear waste facility linked to US nuclear testing between 1948 and 1958, the aftermath of which was left unconfronted. The orphans in her narrative are sometimes compared to wildcats, animals that Tsushima associated with invisibility, heard about but rarely seen, rather like the possible radiation spreading after Fukushima. Her investment in the fate of orphans like Kaz and Mitch also operates as a plea for a more diverse, inclusive Japan. But Tsushima is interested too in postwar America, bringing in references to Nixon, to Vietnam, and to other aspects of American policies and politics – making it clear that Japan’s ills are not unique. Those biracial orphans adopted by Americans are shown to suffer as much as those who remained in Japan. It’s a piece that could be difficult to follow at times, stretches of conventional prose are abruptly disrupted by fractured monologues or passages that read more like prose poetry. I found some sections moving and powerful, others awkward, slippery or overly ambitious. But despite its ultimate unevenness, I thought this was a fascinating, sometimes haunting, portrait of Japan, of pervasive personal and cultural anxieties. Translated by Lisa Hofmann-Kuroda.

I appreciate the premise of this book but I couldn’t get past certain elements. It felt difficult to really connect with some elements here. Felt a bit too magical for me.

This is a great book, I loved the cultural moments and how it went over different ways that cultures mourn. I think it felt a bit too YA for me with all the coming of age but other than that part it was pretty good

Thank you to NetGalley, to the author, and to the publishers for this ARC in exchange for an honest review!!!

There was something very compelling to me about the set-up, the plot centered on the history of Japan, and I truly enjoy Tsushima’s writing style, but not my favourite of hers, I wonder if part of that is the ARC version and if some of the translation roughness will be smoothed out in the final copy. Specifically, there were so many repetitive passages and phrases and I wondered if something had been lost there from the Japanese… it felt quite wooden. The beauty of the writing was what struck me with other Tsushima works and I wasn’t quite getting that here.