Dead-end Memories

My first read for the year 2023 was Dead-end Memories, a collection of five stories by Banana Yoshimoto, translated by Asa Yoneda. 

"This was what it took, I realized, to be something that survived. Not just constancy, or strength. But—like the ever-flowing river—to engulf everything that came your way and move swiftly on as though it had never been."

Women are central characters in the stories here. They are either looking back on a day that changed their lives, fighting horrific scars from their past or learning to handle loss of love or a loved one, betrayal and failed relationships. In prose that is pellucid and brims with tenderness, Banana Yoshimoto dwells deeply on incidents that transform the lives of her characters and shape their memories. 

My favorite stories are ‘House of Ghosts’ which has a coming-of-age flavor to it, ‘Not Warm at All' which poignantly depicts how being surrounded by people doesn't always assure security or ward off loneliness and ‘Tomo Chan’s Happiness’ (though I felt this ended abruptly) which is a sensitive take on what defines and who controls one’s happiness. 

A freak food poisoning accident flushes out toxic baggage from the past for Matsuoka in the story ‘Mama!’. In Dead-end Memories, a newly forged friendship helps the protagonist battle loneliness and her fiancé's betrayal. In my opinion, these two stories would have had a better impact had they been shorter. And, the choice of the title for this collection where every story bestows its characters with hope, a fresh lease of life and space for more memories feels a little incoherent.

I re-read the author’s ‘Bee Honey’ from the Penguin Book of Japanese Short Stories. Looking back at all these stories, I adore Banana Yoshimoto for how she handles grief, loneliness, mental health issues and myriad everyday human emotions like an artist with the most nimble fingers. It's also lovely how she incorporates food as a medium of expression. Her acuity in detailing her character’s emotional vulnerability and maturity is stunning.

I am jotting down some of my favorite lines from the stories that I hope will substantiate the thoughts I have shared above -

"A feeling of closeness lay silkily between us, like a sourdough starter quietly rising." (from House of Ghosts)

"But my family was just the three of us. It seemed to me like we had no backup at all."

(from Not Warm at All)

"I was also learning that every single person in the world had been hurt by their family at some point. I wasn’t special at all—some people dealt with it well, and some didn’t, but that was the only difference, and either way, we were all nourished and cherished by our families, and at the same time limited and defined by them—that was what it meant to be human, I understood." (from Mama!)

"Each one of us has our own personal rock bottom. There are so many people out there with lives far less fortunate than ours, and if we got even a taste of what it’s like to be them it would crush us, we’d never make it through. Because we’re lucky, we’ve got things pretty easy. But that’s not something we need to feel ashamed of.” (from Dead-end Memories)

Mildly melancholic and pretty philosophical, Dead-end Memories feels like a blanket made of words that will keep us warm on cold winter evenings (maybe even help tackle a few cold vibes).