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izzywolf's review against another edition
4.0
3.75 stars ~ at very few moments did I understand what was going on but it was still very interesting to read. The ending gave me chills even though I couldn’t tell you how we got there.
trin's review against another edition
1.0
Just to give you an idea of where I’m coming from here, allow me to confess: I am not a fan of [b:Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland|1503618|Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass|Lewis Carroll|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1184375079s/1503618.jpg|2375385]. Didn’t like it when I was a kid, wasn’t fond of it when I reread it for a class in college. (I bet you can guess how AWESOME it is listening to a bunch of over-eager English majors start insisting that Alice is really a metaphor for post-colonial blah blah blah.) I do dig me some whimsy (not to mention some Wimsey), and as my recent [a:Murakami|819789|J.D. Salinger|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1189260887p2/819789.jpg] marathon has made clear, I can be a big fan of Japanese surrealism, too. But I feel there needs to be a sense of balance, so when a story tips you head over heels down the rabbit hole to a place where there’s no logic, no plot, and no characters, it’s just too much for me. My eyes glaze over and I end up bored and annoyed.
Kobo Abe’s Kangaroo Notebook epitomized all the potential pitfalls one could imagine popping up in surrealist literature. At the beginning of the novel, the protagonist discovers radish sprouts (which are referred to throughout the whole book as “radish sprouts”—why the quotes?) growing from his calves. This initial unexplained weird event sets him on a path that catapults him from one unexplained weird event to the next. Everything that happens is related in one of those flat, unemotional first person POVs—possibly my least favorite narrative technique ever. The people he encounters are devices, not human beings. And while the cover copy claims that the book is supposed to be a biting satire of modern Japanese life, I really did not get that from the text at all. This may be in part my failing as an ignorant Westerner, but nothing in this book felt astutely realized; it was all either very very generic (bureaucracy? Dehumanizing and annoying!) or incredibly obscure.
It also just wasn’t very well-written—or anyway, well-translated. On the most basic level, Abe (or Abe’s translator) couldn’t seem to figure out if he was writing in the present or the past tense, so he settled for swapping back and forth repeatedly. And unlike in even Murakami’s most confounding work, there wasn’t a single beautiful—or even a distinct—piece of imagery to be found. It was all a muddle.
Abe’s [b:The Woman in the Dunes|9998|The Woman in the Dunes|Kobo Abe|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1166112398s/9998.jpg|58336] is supposed to be a classic, one of the things you MUST READ if you are cultivating an interest in Japanese literature. I am now, however, disinclined to.
Kobo Abe’s Kangaroo Notebook epitomized all the potential pitfalls one could imagine popping up in surrealist literature. At the beginning of the novel, the protagonist discovers radish sprouts (which are referred to throughout the whole book as “radish sprouts”—why the quotes?) growing from his calves. This initial unexplained weird event sets him on a path that catapults him from one unexplained weird event to the next. Everything that happens is related in one of those flat, unemotional first person POVs—possibly my least favorite narrative technique ever. The people he encounters are devices, not human beings. And while the cover copy claims that the book is supposed to be a biting satire of modern Japanese life, I really did not get that from the text at all. This may be in part my failing as an ignorant Westerner, but nothing in this book felt astutely realized; it was all either very very generic (bureaucracy? Dehumanizing and annoying!) or incredibly obscure.
It also just wasn’t very well-written—or anyway, well-translated. On the most basic level, Abe (or Abe’s translator) couldn’t seem to figure out if he was writing in the present or the past tense, so he settled for swapping back and forth repeatedly. And unlike in even Murakami’s most confounding work, there wasn’t a single beautiful—or even a distinct—piece of imagery to be found. It was all a muddle.
Abe’s [b:The Woman in the Dunes|9998|The Woman in the Dunes|Kobo Abe|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1166112398s/9998.jpg|58336] is supposed to be a classic, one of the things you MUST READ if you are cultivating an interest in Japanese literature. I am now, however, disinclined to.
turtlep0wer's review against another edition
lighthearted
mysterious
reflective
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
What a strange strange surreal delicious ride.
gabrielf94's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
lighthearted
mysterious
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.0
achillreads's review against another edition
3.0
It was my first Kobo Abe and it certainly was a ride. Might say it was a fever dream sort of a story. Mayhaps I didn't get the main point of it but I don't think his work is for me. I do own another book of his but really not sure when that time will come.
wickedcestus's review against another edition
2.0
Like many books with inventive and funny openings, this one too fails to continue that momentum all the way through, even while being quite short. A man wakes up with radish sprouts growing from his legs. He tries to go to the doctor. The doctor puts him in a hospital bed, then rolls him out the door. The man realizes he can control the bed with his mind. He gets the bed stuck on a curb. Then, a construction worker rolls his bed into hell.
The rest of the book can easily be divided into three or four sections that don't seem to have much to do with each other, nor any point in themselves. It all just felt wacky for no purpose, and it wasn't even that funny by the end.
I liked some of the ideas in the book. I like the kangaroo notebook. I liked when a ceiling sprinkler turned into the main character's dad. I think this could have been developed into a more interesting story. As it is, it's just too short and not impactful.
The rest of the book can easily be divided into three or four sections that don't seem to have much to do with each other, nor any point in themselves. It all just felt wacky for no purpose, and it wasn't even that funny by the end.
I liked some of the ideas in the book. I like the kangaroo notebook. I liked when a ceiling sprinkler turned into the main character's dad. I think this could have been developed into a more interesting story. As it is, it's just too short and not impactful.
_carlibri_'s review against another edition
2.0
Il quaderno canguro è un romanzo onirico.
L'io narrante è anche il protagonista, e racconta a presa diretta ciò che gli accade lungo tutto il suo viaggio.
L'idea di base del romanzo è di stampo kafkiano, ma viene poi sviluppata, secondo me, ai limiti del nonsense.
Così come accade nei sogni, i luoghi e le scene descritte sono continui, improvvisi e casuali.
Inoltre, il testo è intriso di dettagli simbolici e legati alla mitologia giapponese, elementi che possono essere apprezzati, a mio avviso, solo dalle persone appassionate.
Per tutti questi motivi, non sono riuscita a entrare appieno nel romanzo e ho faticato molto nell'ascolto.
Tuttavia, ritengo che possa essere molto apprezzato da chi ama il genere.
L'io narrante è anche il protagonista, e racconta a presa diretta ciò che gli accade lungo tutto il suo viaggio.
L'idea di base del romanzo è di stampo kafkiano, ma viene poi sviluppata, secondo me, ai limiti del nonsense.
Così come accade nei sogni, i luoghi e le scene descritte sono continui, improvvisi e casuali.
Inoltre, il testo è intriso di dettagli simbolici e legati alla mitologia giapponese, elementi che possono essere apprezzati, a mio avviso, solo dalle persone appassionate.
Per tutti questi motivi, non sono riuscita a entrare appieno nel romanzo e ho faticato molto nell'ascolto.
Tuttavia, ritengo che possa essere molto apprezzato da chi ama il genere.
pearloz's review against another edition
3.0
That was an insane fever dream. In hindsight, the weirdest thing about this is that, the thing that prompted our narrator to visit the doctor was the fact that he was growing radishes up and down his legs. That was the baseline. Like the rest of it seemed crazy by comparison. WTF
cuckmulligan's review against another edition
2.0
I respect this book's strangeness, though can't honestly say it came together for me. Took me a while to get through this skinny little book.
There's a cliche bit of writing advice having to do with surreal/absurd elements in narratives. It more or less goes that the nonsensical should be used strategically and sparingly as a way of heightening or complicating a baseline reality. If you stack absurdities on top of absurdities you risk making your story feel inconsequential. I have always resisted this advice...shouldn't fiction, refuge from the real that it is, get as weird with it as it likes? Well, here's a cautionary tale. I get the sense this brand of dense, off-the-wall surrealism is easier to pull off in a shorter form. I'm reading the short stories of Leonora Carrington which are bonkers in a way kind of similar to this book, yet they work better because they don't wear out their welcome. There are individual scenes and images that will stick with me for a while--the turnip legs, the recurrence of the hospital bed, the farcical plot to "euthanize" an annoying fellow patient. Dialogue was often funny. Not sure what to make of the pedo stuff.
This hasn't scared me off from reading more Kobo Abe! This is a minor work, apparently. The Woman in the Dunes is the one he's known for and what I ought to have read.
There's a cliche bit of writing advice having to do with surreal/absurd elements in narratives. It more or less goes that the nonsensical should be used strategically and sparingly as a way of heightening or complicating a baseline reality. If you stack absurdities on top of absurdities you risk making your story feel inconsequential. I have always resisted this advice...shouldn't fiction, refuge from the real that it is, get as weird with it as it likes? Well, here's a cautionary tale. I get the sense this brand of dense, off-the-wall surrealism is easier to pull off in a shorter form. I'm reading the short stories of Leonora Carrington which are bonkers in a way kind of similar to this book, yet they work better because they don't wear out their welcome. There are individual scenes and images that will stick with me for a while--the turnip legs, the recurrence of the hospital bed, the farcical plot to "euthanize" an annoying fellow patient. Dialogue was often funny. Not sure what to make of the pedo stuff.
This hasn't scared me off from reading more Kobo Abe! This is a minor work, apparently. The Woman in the Dunes is the one he's known for and what I ought to have read.