Reviews

Tokyo Ueno Station by Yu Miri

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sumlittlebee's review against another edition

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reflective sad slow-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? It's complicated
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Diverse cast of characters? Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.25

alexander's review against another edition

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adventurous challenging dark emotional reflective sad medium-paced

4.5

patricktrep's review against another edition

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challenging emotional reflective sad medium-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? It's complicated
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Diverse cast of characters? N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

Don't be fooled by the colorful pop-art cover—this book is a funeral dirge pared down to and delivered to the reader as a delicate haiku. Is Kazu more invisible as a ghost or as a homeless man? This reader found the edges blurred often and with depressingly great effect as Kazu's timeless (though usually time-stamped) memories and impressions share his history and literal haunts.

The imagery of roses, rain, collected cans, ginkgo leaves, tarps and trains make this a very textured, though quiet survey of loneliness, loss, and lucklessness.

*This is a depressing book*, but it is short, well written, and implicitly compassionate—otherwise I don't think I would have finished it. I didn't love it, or even enjoy it sometimes, but it is thought provoking, thoroughly original, and exquisitely constructed. I think many readers will dislike this book. Many will feel mixed, as I do. If I had loved it I would have given it 5 stars. Right now I'm between 3 and 4, but rounding up to 4.

Contains occasional strong profanity and some brief mature content (nothing scintillating).

(Literary impressionistic/atmospheric fiction. Depressing. Brief. Deserving award winner. Translated from Japanese. Would reread.)

bryana1999's review

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3.0

It was a sad story but it felt too disjointed. The overall story did not come together for me throughout the book. It was definitely upsetting and rather bleak about the situation of the homeless in Japan. I just wish there were more definitive moments in the book of where you were.

m_h_dahl's review against another edition

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challenging dark emotional reflective sad medium-paced

3.75

3,75 stars✨

I was not prepared to read such a sad story. When I borrowed the book from the library, I had no idea what it was about. I was quite overwhelmed by how sad it was, and I probably wasn't in the right mood for such melancholic tone and profound reflections in a story. I suspect I would have appreciated it more at a different time. Nevertheless, it left a lasting impression on me.

Kazu, an old man born in Fukushima in 1933, whose life is curiously intertwined with the Imperial family through a series of coincidences. His journey brings him to Tokyo, to the park near Ueno Station, where his spirit now lingers after death. Here, Kazu's life unfolded, from working as a laborer during the preparations for the 1964 Olympics to ending up in the park's homeless villages. The devastation of the 2011 tsunami and the announcement of the 2020 Olympics only deepen his sense of displacement and anger.

But the story isn't just about Kazu; it’s a broader critique of societal structures and a poignant exploration of Japan's marginalized. Yu Miri, writing from her unique perspective as a Zainichi (Korean-Japanese) author, delivers a potent rebuke to the Imperial system and a deeply empathetic portrayal of Japan’s most vulnerable people.

‘Tokyo Ueno Station’ describe the stark divide between the wealthy and the poor. Kazu's life, marked by relentless labor and ultimate poverty, stands in sharp contrast to the lives of the Imperial family, who exist in a realm of privilege and security. This disparity is evident in the way society treats its homeless. When the Emperor’s limousine is set to pass through Ueno Park, the homeless must pack up their belongings and disappear, their existence deemed a blight on the city’s image.

Kazu, even in death, observes the world around him as an invisible entity, and I think this ghostly existence serves as a powerful metaphor for how society ignores the homeless. Kazu’s incorporeal state underscores how unnoticed and unseen the homeless are, despite living among the bustling populace of Tokyo. Kazu reflects on the cruel twists of fate that led him to homelessness, questioning whether poverty is a sin or if sin is a result of poverty.