Amazing untranslated Japanese fiction: personal favourites

Available in Italian and French - time for an English translation!

Being an Italian book person living in a foreign country can sometimes with some difficulties, some of which - the ones that affect me the most, at least - are the costs of fresh farmers' produce and the fact that I have to travel back to my country to find unknown Japanese translated fiction (specific, right?). That said, the UK has some wonderful publishing houses that highlight lesser-known authors coming from the Land of the Rising Sun, see Pushkin Press, Doubleday and Penguin, so there's still plenty to explore here!

During my trips to Italy, I like to stop by local bookshops and pick up titles that catch my attention, names I have not heard of before - maybe older authors or new exciting ones. I always check whether the books are translated into English before purchasing them, and (I have to admit) I check the translators' names - some translations are better than others.

Among my favourite recent discoveries are Nobuko Yoshiya's Storie di Fiori ("Flowers Tales"), Yoshimura Keiko's 108 Rintocchi ("108 Bell Strokes"), and Nashiki Kaho's Un'Estate con la Strega dell'Ovest ("A Summer with the Witch of the West", literal translation).

All of these books hold intricate stories and interesting authors behind their beautiful covers - also part of the reason why I liked them so much.

Nobuko Yoshiya (1896 - 1973) witnessed two eras in her lifetime: the wrapping up of the Taishō era, and the

unfolding of the Shōwa era, two periods of time in which Japan's literature and lifestyle were changing at the speed of light and the influence from the West had already landed in people's lives. Some like to call Yoshiya a "revolutionary", and I also believe that this woman's writing and lifestyle had an immense impact on Japanese society and literature.

Ever heard of the genre yuri? Yuri is one of the most popular manga genres in Japan, along with yaoi, shōnen-ai, shōnen and shōjo, featuring soft, sweet female romance, typically between the age ranges of adolescence and young adults. Yoshiya-san was the woman who initiated the yuri genre - she is, in fact, a pioneer. Despite the rigid gender norms at the time, which remain the same in the grand part of today's Japan, Yoshiya had openly admitted to being in a lesbian relationship and was actively involved with the feminist magazine Shōjo Gaho, where she shared her writings. Flowers Tales is only one of her books, which, despite the huge success in their original country, have yet to see the surface here in the UK and many other countries across the world.

Flowers Tales is a delicate and poetic collection of love stories between students and teachers set in a boarding school, a real treat if you ask me, not just because I have a genuine obsession with gay Japanese literature but also because it's a genuinely wonderful book. I would like to mention another book of hers, not yet translated into English: Two Virgins in the Attic (1919), and this book written by Deborah M. Shamoon, Passionate Friendship: The Aesthetics of Girl’s Culture in Japan, which will walk you through the world of Japanese girls' culture and the political and societal background of the androgynous characters featured in the stories.

Yoshimura Keiko (1999). Now, there's not much about this author - she is mostly unknown, except. But I think this mystery, coupled with the fact that her book 108 Rintocchi ("108 Strokes") is an absolute gem and that it was born from her encounter with Laura Imai Messina (a goddess if you ask me), then things change radically. I am utterly fascinated by this author who, at such a young age, has created a book with an incredible depth of spirit

which reveals the essence of the Japanese. The story is simple yet original and moving: Sohara Mamoru is the handyman of a small town located on an island in the archipelagos of Izu. It's a desolate place - the youngsters leave for Tokyo to continue their studies and work, and the elderly live a slow life and eventually die of old age. Sohara is a character lost between real-life narration and somewhat magical realism: he is an invisible "wizard" who dedicates his life to fixing what's broken on the island - a guardrail, an oba-san's roof, and lends an ear to its lonely inhabitants. In the untouched enchantment of this town, people wake up to find that what was broken the day before is now miraculously working, but nobody knows that behind all of this is the kindness and dedication of Mamoru. December is a time in which the Japanese clean and reorganise their homes as they welcome the new year. This magical time is accompanied by the 108 bell strokes of Buddhist temples. In Buddhism, 108 is the number of worldly desires that one must overcome to reach Nirvana, a state of perfection. Right amid the celebrations, Mamoru receives some bad news and his position as giver changes. One detail that made me love this book even more: the meaning of Mamoru is "to protect".

Nashiki Kaho (1959) is a Japanese novelist who studied in the UK under the supervision of English children's book author Betty Morgan Bowen, then went on to work for Hayao Kawai, the father of Japanese Analytical and Clinical Psychology. It was the latter who discovered her talent for writing after reading A Summer with the Witch of the West and suggested Nashiki submit her book for publication. This was the beginning of her writing career. Her books are widely popular in Japan, particularly amongst young readers and young adults, because of her style - a veritable mix of wonder.

Magical realism meets fantasy and spirituality, creating an atmosphere of surrealism that keeps the reader pinned to the pages for hours at once. Her descriptions are lush, full of greenery, flowers, and mysterious supernatural events, and her experiences with children's books in gothic England and her psychoanalytical studies in Japan immediately surface here: Mai's family is fragmented and the effects of this reverse on the psyche of the protagonists. Moreover, the character of the grandmother summarises her romantic idea of England, made of gothic tales, tea and roast dinners.

In A Summer with the Witch of the West, Mai refuses to attend classes at school. Her mother decides to let her spend the summer with her grandmother, who lives in a small house in remote Japan. Her grandmother is English, a curious, wise lady who spends her time cultivating herbs and cooking, and who seems to understand her without judgement. Both Mai and her mother called her a "witch" in its most tender and amicable sense. However, while living with her, Mai finds out her grandmother is a real witch, and she will undergo training to become one herself.

None of these breathtaking authors are translated into English, sadly, and I have no doubt that these titles would gather a lot of interest in any English-speaking country. They are unique; these voices are different and powerful, and offer perspectives that are yet to be understood in Japan - maybe that's why they are so acclaimed there. In the rest of the world, they would shine some light on sides of Japanese society that are still unknown in the West. Lesbian Japanese love? Life on a forgotten Japanese island? Japanese Buddhist customs in a fiction setting? Mixed-race Japanese families?

I'm all over this!