Tokyo Ueno Station

Tokyo Ueno Station is a 2014 novel by Zainichi Korean author Yū Miri.

The novel reflects the authors engagement with historical memory and margins by incorporating themes of a migrant laborer from northeastern Japan and his work on Olympic construction sites in Tokyo, as well as the 11 March 2011 disaster

An Elegy for the Homeless

Walking through Ueno Park, one of Tokyo’s most popular spots, on an autumn Saturday, the novelist Yū Miri was struck by how much more beautiful it had become since her last visit several years earlier.

She pointed to a grove of trees where people were picnicking at a social distance, and recalled a time when the lawn was homeless, living in cardboard tents covered with blue tarps.

That’s the scene she recreated in her novel “Tokyo Ueno Station,” which won the National Book Award for Translated Literature on Nov. 18. The novels narrator is a dead construction worker whose ghost wanders around these tents, where he and other people who have fallen to the bottom of the socioeconomic class spent their final years.

“Japan is so clean, and its image is clean but they also hide things they don’t want others to see.”

In "Tokyo Ueno Station," published in the United States in June by Riverhead, she uncovers that hidden world. By interviewing people she met in the park, she captured details like a man sleeping with “a large translucent bag filled with found aluminum cans between his legs” or a cardboard shack with “a bamboo broom propped up outside with women’s underwear hanging from it.”

The narrator, Kazu, explains how, in the fragile ecosystem of the homeless, convenience stores place expired food near the trash bins. That way, “if we got there before the trash was collected, we could take whatever we wanted.” One friend even used the little money he had to buy tuna and cat food for his adopted cat before buying food for himself.

Bringing to life these people whose faces are often obscured is "the reason I became a writer," said Mirii, 52. “I’m kind of like a satellite dish, so I can amplify the little sounds that people don’t hear very often.”

According to Japanese government data, the number of homeless people nationwide has dropped from more than 25,000 in 2003 to around 4,500 now. But some private researchers believe the current figures are likely to be higher. Local media reported that the Tokyo government had evicted many of them from Ueno Park and other tourist spots in preparation for the 2020 Olympics, now postponed to 2021, though officials denied they had been displaced.

First published in Japan in 2014, Tokyo Ueno Station is based on details from conversations Yuri collected with homeless people in parks starting more than a decade ago. The migrant workers from Fukushima and this character were inspired by 600 interviews that Yuri conducted for a local radio program after the disaster. In 2011, the earthquake and tsunami in Fukushima led to nuclear reactor meltdowns and subsequent mass evacuations.

Yu Miri was good at weaving social critique with a harrowing personal portrait. The book is both an indictment of capitalism and an elegy for those it has left behind, but it’s also very personal and intimate, telling the story of a family and this man.

Yuri moved to Fukushima in 2015 and has deep ties to the place. Her mother, a Korean War refugee, fled to Japan from South Korea on a small boat and came ashore in a village in Fukushima that was eventually flooded by the dam that provides hydroelectric power for Tokyo.

Her story has great resonance around the world. Too many people live in areas where resources and population are deprived and are forgotten because of such sacrifices.

Yu Miri is the eldest of four children in the family. Her father, also the son of Korean immigrants, worked at a pachinko parlor, and she said he cursed and spent much of his earnings on betting on horses or playing poker. Her mother supported the family by working as a dancer at a cabaret club in Yokohama, Japans second-largest city. One of her brothers was violent — he once smashed the family’s windows with a baseball bat, calling the police — and her parents divorced when she was a child.

As a Korean (known in Japan as Zainichi, meaning Korean in Japan) from a poor family, she was bullied at school. Her classmates called her a "germ" and always refused to eat lunch when it was her turn to distribute it. She remembers a teacher who got angry at her shyness and asked her, "Dont you speak Japanese?"

Literature became her refuge, especially the works of Edgar Allan Poe, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, William Faulkner and Truman Capote. "Books are a refuge for my soul," said Yu Miri, who often used books to cover her face from her classmates.

Having experienced discrimination and poverty herself, she empathized with the struggles of the characters in the novel. “As a kid, I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere,” she said. “So when I write about the homeless or marginalized, I feel like I’m writing about that situation.”

“She writes about their lives not only with force and anger and realism, but also with a strong sense of beauty and a fair amount of experimentation,”

At the age of 14, Yu Miri ran away from home and fled to Atami, a seaside town south of Tokyo, where she planned to commit suicide by jumping into the sea. After failing to jump into the sea, she climbed up the wall and prepared to jump from the roof of a building.

A janitor rescued her and took her home to his wife, who prepared dinner for her. She never forgot the couple’s kindness, nor the fresh lychees they had for dessert.

“That was my first time eating this fruit, it was delicious and cold,” Yu Miri recalled. Somehow, she said, the smell led her to give the couple her fathers phone number so they could call him to pick her up.

“Japan is so clean and has such a clean image,” Yanagi said. "But theres also a sense of not wanting to see anything dirty or unacceptable."

Yu Miri lived with a director in the troupe, who was 39 years old at the time. They began a romantic relationship, which she admitted was "illegal under current law". But he encouraged her creative talents, and she began writing screenplays, one of which won an award and caught the attention of editors, who encouraged her to write fiction.

She has been writing every day since then. This is her way of life. Life itself is writing.

In addition to writing, YuMiri also opened a bookstore in Minamisoma City, one of the villages evacuated after the Fukushima nuclear disaster and where she now lives. She wants to provide a safe place for returning residents and students to connect with others in the community, even though the current pandemic has limited bookstore activities.

In accepting the National Book Award, she thanked the people of her new home. "I want to share this joy with the people of Minamisoma, who have taken a difficult c," she said in the video. “This award is for you.”

Her book store: https://fukushima.travel/destination/full-house-book-cafe/353

Plot:

Kazu tried hist best to earn the itsy-bitsy money as a migrant worker in Tokyo for his family in Fukushima. No matter how hard he tried, can’t save his 21-year-old son’d life by accident, his granddaughter got drown in the ocean during Tsunami.

He turned the character of the crown prince into his son’s name, but can’t bring any luck for him.

After all his families gone with the wind, he became homeless and lived in the Ueno Station where was the park sent by the Emperor for all the citizens for the blessing after the 1923’s Great Kantō Earthquake .

In 1945, the United States began firebombing Tokyo. Over three hundred B-29 bombers flew low, dropping 1,700 incendiary bombs on the most densely populated, working-class areas of the city and 7,800 corpses were transported to Ueno Park and buried there.

To him, life is just like what his grandmom told him: you bring no luck in the life!

Maybe, this life in Tokyo is too hard for Kazu, but for the next Tokoyo, all his families do have eternity life forever and ever.

“There may be an ending, but there is no end.” We can hear the echo blowing in the wind and keep reminding us of sharing, giving and loving.

Quotes:

1.      Ueno Park had not burned, largely due to the water in Shinobazu Pond. The Matsuzakaya Department Store opposite the park was completely destroyed. Local residents, and even people from as far as Nihonbashi and Kyōbashi, flooded into the park, seeking refuge from the flames. Some had brought everything they owned in large handcarts, hoping to return to their families in the countryside. So many flooded in that they blocked the roads around the station as well as the tracks, so no trains could move. The base of the statue of Takamori Saigō was plastered with notes from those seeking missing friends and family members, of which there were many. Emperor Hirohito, then the imperial prince, came in military uniform to inspect the park. He saw how incredibly important this park, crowded with victims, was in times of disaster. In January 1924, the reigning emperor presented the park to the city as a New Year’s gift. Thus it has the official name of Ueno Imperial Gift Park.

2.        上野公園成立於明治初期的 1873 年，被認為是日本最早的公園之一。 該公園的正式名稱為“上野恩賜公園”，其建園是為了紀念明治天皇作為促進日本近代化的一部分送給東京的禮物而命名的。

上野公園遺址曾是豐臣秀吉五老之一德川家康的莊園，在江戶時代（17-19世紀）作為上野寬永寺遺址發揮了重要作用。 這裡成為江戶末期戊辰戰爭（1868-1869）期間的戰場，新政府軍與前幕府軍之間展開了激烈的戰鬥。

如今，上野公園作為美術館、博物館、動物園等文化設施的聚集地，以及可以欣賞四季風景的城市公園而頗受歡迎。 上野公園是伴隨著日本近代歷史而進步的重要場所，其歷史和文化遺產給參觀者留下了深刻的印象。

Established in 1873 during the early Meiji era, Ueno Park is considered one of the oldest parks in Japan. The parks official name is Ueno Park, named in honor of Emperor Meijis gift to Tokyo as part of his efforts to modernize Japan.

3.      Giant Buddha of Ueno : And Shige’s the one who told me about the hall with the face of the Buddha built by a priest from Kan’ei-ji Temple, on the hill on the other side of the “time bell,” which had been built to mark time for the people of Edo at five in the morning and evening and at noon.

“The Giant Buddha lost its head four times, three times in earthquakes and once in a fire, which really is too tragic. The first time it fell off was in 1647, and since it would have been a shame to leave it that way, the monks went all around Edo one day asking for alms to fund the repairs. Nobody gave them a thing. But as the sun was beginning to set on their way home, a beggar approached and put some small change in their alms bowl. And with that it’s said that the donations started coming in and the monks were able to put together the Giant Buddha, which was almost twenty-three feet high. Almost two hundred years later, the head fell off again due to a fire, and though they put it back exactly as it had been, ten years later in another earthquake it fell off again and had to be repaired again. It made it through the Battle of Ueno in 1868 unharmed, but in the 1923 Great Kantō Earthquake it was completely destroyed.”

4.      In 1945, the United States began firebombing Tokyo. Over three hundred B-29 bombers flew low, dropping 1,700 incendiary bombs on the most densely populated, working-class areas of the city and 7,800 were transported to Ueno Park and buried there. More than 100,000 people died in just two hours that night, but the city has no public memorial, unlike the peace parks in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

5.      In the Battle of Ueno in 1868, the giant Buddha of Ueno unharmed, but in the 1923 Great Kantō Earthquake it was completely destroyed.

6.      In 1960 , When all the citizens all congratulated to Majesty the Crown Prince and His Majesty Princess for their new born baby,  they are running for money to deliver his baby Koichi who committed suicide on his young age.

7.      Ten days before Kōichi was born, some officials from the tax office trampled through our house, attaching red slips of paper to almost everything. They didn’t touch the rice cooker or the table, of course, but they marked the chest of drawers, the radio, and the clock.

8.      "Gateway to the North" - During the post-war economic boom, young people from the northeast took night trains to the capital to look for work, and Ueno was where they got off.

Many of them come from peasant families in the Northeast build sports facilities - the track and field stadiums, baseball fields, tennis courts and volleyball courts that will be used at the Tokyo Olympics .After the Tokyo Olympics ended, the wave of urbanization reached the Tōhoku region and Hokkaido, bringing with it public works projects such as building new highways, railways, parks, and riverbank protection structures, as well as the construction of schools, hospitals, libraries, and other public facilities.

9.      Kazu had no idea what his family had talked about for the twenty-odd years he’d been away from home. Kazu has been living like this since he was twelve, and he has never felt dissatisfied with it before till 21-year-old Koichi was in his sleep for ever. Kazu studied his face, that face that looked just like him, and he could not help but think that his life had been pointless after all, that he had lived this life in vain.

10.  During the time Kazu was away, his brothers and sisters have all started their own families; his children have completed elementary, junior high and high school; Yoko has married; Koichi has gone to Tokyo; and his wife has stayed home alone to take care of their elderly parents. And he had no choice but to continue working in Sendai to pay for Koichis tuition and living expenses, and to provide food for his family.

11.  While I’d been away, my brothers and sisters had all started their own families; my children had gotten through elementary, middle, and high school; Yoko had married; Kōichi had gone to Tokyo; my wife had been left alone at home with my elderly parents. And I’d had no choice but to keep working in Sendai, to pay for Kōichi’s tuition and living expenses and to put food on my family’s table.

12.  "Youve worked so hard to send us money all these years, now you should be able to relax. . . . Youve never had any luck, have you? Better go to bed now—the funeral is tomorrow. The bath has been filled with water. She stood up, tears streaming down her cheeks.

13.  He got married with Setsuko when she was twenty-one.

14.  I hadn’t cried since I’d heard about Kōichi’s death either. I could not comprehend it. I could not accept the sudden death of my only son at the age of twenty-one as reality. Koichi was born on the same day of Japanese prince, but not so lucky like him.  Kazu borrowed the first character of the princes name as his first son.

15.  Yoko, who lives in Sendai, has three children, and they come to stay with us during summer and winter vacations. The oldest was a fourteen-year-old girl, followed by two boys, aged eleven and nine. Our neighbors said it was perfect to have a little princess and two wild boys. The youngest son, Daisuke, looked exactly like Hikaru when he was a child. Its a small thing, but my wife and I have never mentioned it to each other

16.  Opening the storage vault under the tombstone at the family grave, I shifted my father’s and mother’s remains to one side and placed Setsuko’s remains next to Kōichi’s, and at that moment the keening of a cicada somewhere in the pine trees above me rang out.

17.My daughter, Yoko, was worried about me, so she sent my granddaughter, Mari, who had just started work as a nurse at an animal hospital in Haramach. My granddaughter, Mari, was driving, and in the passenger seat was Kotaro, the dachshund.She parked in front of a house and got out, grabbing the chain of a Shiba Inu who had been leashed to a doghouse in the garden. Obviously taking charge of another abandoned dog. She picked up the dog and got into the car, slamming the door shut. The moment she started the engine, a black wave appeared in the rearview. Mari gripped the wheel and stepped on the accelerator, sliding onto Highway 6 still in reverse, but the black wave chased the car, then swallowed it up. Carried out by the tide, the car holding my granddaughter and the two dogs sank into the sea.

When the breath of the tide calmed, the car was enveloped in the light of the sea. Through the windshield I could see Mari’s pink uniform from the animal hospital. Seawater in her mouth and nose; her hair flowing with the waves appeared brown in one light, black in another. Her wide-open eyes had lost their sight, but they shone like black slits. Just like Yoko, she had long eyes, taking after Setsuko. Kotaro and the other dog both died in the car with her.

I could not embrace her, nor touch her hair or cheek, nor call her name, nor cry out, nor let tears fall.

I looked at the swirl of her fingerprints on her right hand, already starting to swell and turn white, still grasping the dog’s lead. Little by little, little by little, the light faded and the ocean calmed as if sinking into a coma. As Mari’s car melted into darkness and I could no longer see it, I heard, from inside that darkness heavy with the weight of water over it, that sound.

Conclusion:

1. "Tokyo Ueno Station " is a novel with the ghost of a construction worker as the protagonist who was born into a poor peasant family in northeastern Japan. He was sent to work when he was just twelve years old. He spent his whole life working away from home to earn money to support his family. When he returned home in his old age, he found that he had no place to stand in his hometown, so he had to exile himself and became a homeless person in Ueno Park in Tokyo.

If the author had not set the protagonist to be born on the same day as Emperor Akihito, and had not set the protagonists wife to be named like Empress Teimei, the biological mother of Emperor, perhaps certain groups in Japan would not be so sensitive to this novel to the point of hysteria.

2.Perhaps the author wanted to use the protagonist’s life to explore the reasons for the common people’s misfortune. Is it because they didn’t work hard enough? Or was it just the wrong time? Or "unlucky" as the protagonists mother said?

1.      “When people live in this world, they will inevitably encounter various losses, but I think loss is not disappearance. Everyone will eventually die, but that person once existed in this world and did something in life. Even after death, that person’s actions will still leave an echo in the world. I think the task of a novelist is to listen carefully to the echoes left by ordinary people after experiencing loss.”

April Book Club

Kazu, the narrator of Tokyo Ueno Station, had hoped that his death would bring him some rest.  He hoped it would bring him some sense of closure. He lived a life of hard labor and intense pain; he spent his final years homeless, living in a makeshift shelter in a Tokyo park. But when he dies, he finds the afterlife — such as it is — is nothing like he expected.

"I thought that once I was dead, I would be reunited with the dead," he reflects. "I thought something would be resolved by death ... But then I realized that I was back in the park. I was not going anywhere, I had not understood anything, I was still stunned by the same numberless doubts, only I was now outside life looking in, as someone who has lost the capacity to exist, now ceaselessly thinking, ceaselessly feeling --"

Kazus painful past and ghostly present are the subject of Tokyo Ueno Station, by Korean-Japanese author Yu Miri. Its a relatively slim novel that packs an enormous emotional punch, thanks to Yus gorgeous, haunting writing and Morgan Giles translation. Tokyo Ueno Station is a ghost story, an alternative history of Japan and a critique of Japanese society. Beginning among the homeless community who live in and around the busy commuter station near Ueno Park, it reaches back through time to the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923, the post-war economic boom, the migration of workers to Tokyo to help build the Olympic park in 1964, and the devastating tsunami of 2011.

The narrator of the tale is called Kazu. Through him, we see a different Japan to the one portrayed in travel programs and newspaper articles. It’s a harrowing story of loss and abandonment.

Across the novel, alongside Kazu’s personal account of recent Japanese history, we learn about more ancient Japanese history, as Kazu’s friend Shige explains the significance of the statues, shrines and temples located in Ueno Park.

The park is scathingly given its full name of Ueno Imperial Gift Park by Kazu in relation to the regular clearance of the homeless from the park whenever a member of the Japanese Imperial family makes an official visit. The irony is that the park was gifted by Emperor Hirohito to the people of Tokyo in 1924, in recognition of its role as a place of refuge for those displaced by the 1923 earthquake and as a place of hope for those searching for missing loved ones.

Kazu is one of the migrant workers who came to Tokyo in 1964. He grew up in Fukushima. He left his family there while he worked as a laborer in Tokyo, visiting them only twice a year and sending back money each month that he wouldn’t even have earned in a year back home.

Gradually we realize that he became one of the homeless. Yu Miri presents his view of the world in a nuanced way. His sense of defeat mingles with his anger at how life turned out for him and the others that Japanese society let down.

Central to Kazu’s story is the death of his son, Kōichi. In the telling, Yu describes grief in a way that will resonate with anyone who has lost someone close to them; a child, a sibling, a parent. Kazu’s frozen pain is tangible, his regret at not having known his son better is palpable. His mother commiserates with him by telling him that he has never had any luck. For Kazu, this seems true; his impoverished upbringing, his going to work from the age of 12 in places that took him far from his home, his resulting status as a stranger in his own family, and then the death of his son all knit together as evidence of his lack of good fortune. Kōichi’s death changes Kazu’s life from making an effort at work to making an effort to live. In the Japanese language, making an effort or doing your best is expressed as /がんばる/頑張る. It has a depth of meaning that is lost when translated into English.

On the day before Kōichi’s funeral, Kazu realises that he is tired of trying, but in line with the ethos of doing your best, he carries on. It’s the death of his wife that finally defeats his will. He turns the corner that leads to homelessness in Ueno Park. The last 45 pages are packed with the intensity of Kazu’s final years.

The saddest thing, I felt, was that Kazu led the best life he could in the context of the society he grew up in. It’s a society where people seem often to feel that their best isn’t good enough and where family bonds are often looser than the bonds formed through employment. When things fell away for Kazu, he didn’t have the kind of support that meant he could survive the hard things life threw at him. It’s tragic.

Tokyo Ueno Station is a mournful book, but its an angry one as well. In one scene, Kazu recalls how his parents would send their young children to answer the door when debt collectors came and tell them their mother and father werent home. "I thought what a thing of sin poverty was, that there could be nothing more sinful than forcing a small child to lie," he thinks. "The wages of that sin were poverty, a wage that one could not endure, leading one to sin again, and as long as one could not pull oneself out of poverty, the cycle would repeat until death."

Yu emphasizes the unfairness of poverty with some painful contrasts. Kazus son was born on the same day as the emperor of Japans son; their lives, of course, turn out quite differently. And one of Kazus first construction jobs was working on athletic facilities that were being built for the 1965 Tokyo Olympics, while he and his fellow homeless people are forced to leave their park when the city is attempting to impress visitors in a bid to host the 2020 Olympics.

Kazus personal pain and his poverty are inextricable from each other, and Yu does a magnificent job exploring the effects of all kinds of loss on the human psyche. Tokyo Ueno Station is a stunning novel, and a harsh, uncompromising look at existential despair. "Light does not illuminate," Kazu reflects at one point. "It only looks for things to illuminate. And I had never been found by the light. I would always be in darkness --"

Questions for Discussion

1.      The novel is framed by an unidentified sound. Are there clues in the text that indicate what that sound is? Could it be the complete absence of sound? How do you interpret the sound?

The sound is could represent the weight of his past, his regrets, and the chaos of his life, particularly related to his suicide

“There may be an ending, but there is no end.” Life comes to the end, but the echo of the spirit still hanging in air if you didn’t let it go.

“It only looks for things to illuminate. And I had never been found by the light. I would always be in darkness” if you close your window, you never see the sunlight.

2.      What effect does it have on the narrative that Kazu’s name is not revealed until well into the novel?

By not immediately giving Kazu a name, the reader is initially forced to see him as just another nameless face in the crowd of people passing through Ueno Park, mirroring the way society often perceives homeless individuals.  The delay in revealing his identity allows the story to focus on Kazus internal thoughts and experiences, rather than getting caught up in his personal details, creating a more immersive and relatable perspective on homelessness. 

Kazu used the character of the crown Prince who was born at the same day and lives for forty-six years and more , but his son lives only stuck at 21years. A life for them never knows what struggle is, but he knows what the struggle is and ends up for meaningless. On behalf for all the homeless he didn’t show his real name in person, just a shadow.

3.      What does the novel have to say about how those in poverty are treated?

The novel portrays those experiencing poverty, particularly the homeless, as largely invisible and disregarded by society, often treated as a nuisance to be cleared away when necessary, highlighting the harsh reality of marginalization and dehumanization faced by the destitute, especially in public spaces The novel emphasizes how homeless people are often simply not seen by passersby, even when they are right in front of them, highlighting the societal tendency to ignore their existence.  like Ueno Park where the protagonist, Kazu, lives as a ghost after his death as a homeless man. 

Poverty appeared in the tsunami , earthquake, and war. Come and go like the dust, from dust and into dust. Kazu tried his best to earn the money back from Tokyo for his family in the hometown  Fukushima, but his son still commit suicide. Yū puts this contrast into focus by comparing her hero with the Emperor.  Both men were born in the same year, and each had a son born on the same day – so why have their lives turned out so differently. His son can’t find any luck but chose to commit suicide. His mom even cursed Kazu bad luck. His granddaughter came to see him but got flooded by tsunami. He worked for the athletic facilities of Tokyo Olympics1965 and lived in Ueno Park’s homeless shelter where the city is attempting to impress visitors in a bid to host the 2020 Olympics. They were forced to shift away.

The parks official name is Ueno Park, named in honor of Emperor Meijis gift to Tokyo as part of his efforts to modernize Japan. But for Kazu, his life is not modernized at all. His home town gone through earthquake, nuclear disaster and tsunami.

Fortunately, in the real life, we can see how great Yu Mini is,  the eldest of four children Zainichi, meaning Korean in Japan her father was the son of Korean immigrants and worked as a pachinko parlor an and mother was a dancer at cabaret club. She used got bullied at school.

At the age of 14, Yu Miri ran away from home and planned to commit suicide.

A janitor rescued her. She never forgot the couple’s kindness, nor the fresh lychees they had for dessert.

Later , her partents divorced.

Her beloved 39-year-old director from the troupe encourage her to write. Writing is her refuge.

YuMiri also opened a bookstore in Minamisoma City, one of the villages evacuated after the Fukushima nuclear disaster and where she now lives. She wants to provide a safe place for returning residents and students to connect with others in the community, even though the current pandemic has limited bookstore activities.

In the story, we can see all the poverty will be  haunt by all the poverties , no matter dead or alive, but in the reality, we will find the torch lighten up for them who ever get helped from others when they are poor, too.

A little drop of helping rain build up a big ocean

4.      What do you think is the saddest part of this story?

The novels tone is one of quiet nihilism. Kazu does not find peace even in death, and his spirit wanders the station, haunted by his memories. His search for recognition, even in the afterlife, symbolizes a universal human desire for connection and meaning, which he never fully finds. The feeling of being trapped in a cycle of invisibility and unfulfilled longing is deeply sorrowful. The combination of personal loss, social neglect, and the haunting sense of being forgotten makes "Tokyo Ueno Station" a sad and moving story. Kazus life and death encapsulate the emotional devastation of those who are often marginalized and left behind in society.

His daughter, Yoko, was worried about him, so she sent his granddaughter, Mari, who had just started work as a nurse at an animal hospital in Haramach. His granddaughter, Mari, was driving, and in the passenger seat was Kotaro, the dachshund. She parked in front of a house and got out, grabbing the chain of a Shiba Inu who had been leashed to a doghouse in the garden. Obviously taking charge of another abandoned dog. She picked up the dog and got into the car, slamming the door shut. The moment she started the engine, a black wave appeared in the rearview. Mari gripped the wheel and stepped on the accelerator, sliding onto Highway 6 still in reverse, but the black wave chased the car.

His granddaughter is so sweet and kind , but can’t help fight against the nature disaster.        

5. Kazu’s mother says he never has any luck.  Is luck the defining factor in life?

Kazus mother’s remark that he "never has any luck" highlights a sense of fatalism and resignation that runs through the novella. It raises the question of whether luck is truly a defining factor in life, and its an idea that resonates with many of the themes in the book.

However, whether luck is the defining factor in life is a complex and philosophical question. The novella itself suggests that luck might not be the central force in determining a person’s life outcomes. Instead, circumstance, choices, and social systems play more significant roles in shaping ones fate

If you believe in the eternal life, maybe it will help us feel relieved a little bit. What I have suffered is to reduce other’s pain. From your repentance for your mistakes, you will be blessed.

6. According to traditional Japanese beliefs, when a person dies, their soul, called a "reikon" (霊魂), leaves the body and enters a kind of purgatory (in between world) where it waits for proper funeral rites to be performed before joining their ancestors. Is this where Kazu is now?  Do you believe in ghosts?

In Kazus case, he is stuck in the space between the physical world and the afterlife. Kazu’s spirit haunts Ueno Station because his death was not properly acknowledged or addressed. He did not receive the proper funeral rites, and his soul, filled with regret and sorrow, is unable to move on. His death is marked by social neglect, both during his life and in the afterlife, making him a perfect representation of the "lost soul" in Japanese belief. He’s not at rest but is instead trapped, unable to find peace, because of his unresolved personal and social struggles.

Is Kazus Soul in "Purgatory"?

Yes, in the sense that Kazu’s soul is in an unresolved state and awaiting some form of release or closure, similar to what traditional beliefs describe as being in a purgatory-like waiting area. This waiting period can be for various reasons, such as not having had the opportunity to complete unfinished business in life, like reconciling with loved ones or fulfilling certain societal or personal obligations. Kazus inability to move on could reflect the unfinished nature of his life, especially considering his isolation and emotional struggles during his lifetime.

I do not believe in ghosts, but I can understand why people might believe in ghosts, especially through cultural lenses. Many cultures, including Taiwanese and Japanese, have deeply ingrained beliefs in spirits and the afterlife, and these beliefs help explain phenomena that may seem unexplainable. For some, ghosts serve as symbols of unresolved emotions, unfinished business, or the consequences of neglect and abandonment. They might represent the collective memories of a society or the emotional weight of personal histories that havent been given proper closure.  In the case of Kazu, his ghost is not just a supernatural entity but also a reflection of the real-life struggles of marginalized people. His existence as a spirit in Ueno Station is symbolic of those whose lives go unnoticed and whose deaths are not fully acknowledged. His haunting presence could be interpreted as a metaphor for societal neglect—a way for the author to convey the emotional and social consequences of such neglect.

Ghost means if we can’t learn to accept our faults and keep blaming other’s fault, it will make you be haunted , no matter past or presence. If we passed away, we need to be filled with enjoyment. It means we have done our homework in this life.

7. According to Shinto faith, a human spirit is believed to remain forever like the spirit of  kami (神). The places where the spirit live are often mentioned as the “otherworld” and the Shinto faith believes there are three otherwolds: 常世 隠世 幽世.  In each otherworld, there live kami. The spirits live in three separate worlds, but other worlds, however, are not described as heaven nor as a hell. There is no difference at all from this world. What do you believe happens when we die?  What do you hope happens?

The belief in Shintos otherworlds, like many spiritual or religious views, offers a vision of continuity and connection — that death is not an end but a transformation or passage. I think many people, regardless of their specific beliefs, hope for a sense of meaning in the afterlife — a sense that they will continue in some form or be remembered. The beauty of Shinto’s view of the afterlife is that it allows for lifes continuity, not through an escape to heaven or descent into hell, but through integration into the natural and spiritual cycles of the world. It is a way of seeing death not as a final separation, but as a return to something timeless and eternal. From a broader perspective, many of us may simply hope for peace and closure at the time of death. Whether that means reuniting with ancestors or merging with the natural world, there is a universal human desire for dignity and meaning in the face of mortality. The hope that our lives, our actions, and our spirits have a lasting impact — that we remain part of the cycle of existence in some way — is something that transcends many different cultures and philosophies.

We need to go through this life, bardo(中陰生), and afterlife. Where we can go , depends on what you sow in this year.

Tokoyo (常世), also known as the Unseen world (隠世、幽世, Kakuriyo),or Taikaikan, is a place in the Shinto religion where nothing changes that is believed to be the world of the gods and ancestral spirits. It is said to be a place of eternal youth where people never age. The location of Tokoyo varies between stories. Sometimes it is underwater, in others underground, and in others in the sky.

8. Most people would not say poverty is a “sin” but how is this attitude different from the idea that homeless people or those in poverty need to “try harder” or “pull themselves up by the boostraps?” What can we do to alleviate suffering in the world? 

Poverty is not a "sin," and it’s important to shift away from the idea that people who are poor simply need to “try harder.” Many factors contribute to poverty that are outside of an individual’s control, and we must recognize the importance of addressing the root causes—structural inequality, lack of access to resources, and systemic injustice. To alleviate suffering, we must work toward a society where compassion, equity, and support systems exist to help everyone thrive, not just those with the most advantages. Helping those in poverty means creating a more inclusive and fair world, one where people’s well-being is valued over profits or personal gain.

There are Six Paths in Buddhism. They are, from top to bottom: the heavenly path, the human path, the Asura (god) path, the animal path, the ghost path, and the hell path. This is all due to the Ten Virtues, and the Ten Evils which are killing one’s father, killing one’s mother, killing an Arhat(god), destroying the harmony of the Sangha(monks), and shedding the blood of the Buddha.

※From Tokyo, to Tokoyo, from life to afterlife, what will be will be is counted on what you have done in this life. We have to try out best to do something good and repent on what you have done wrong. We will get what we plant. What we get is what we sow.

Don’t waste our time to complaint but take our time to plant.

APRIL BOOK CLUB MEETING

I’m not sure if books have the power to change minds, let alone the world. Nor do I buy into the power of books or other forms of entertainment as primarily escapist ventures, means of avoiding the world around you and its harsh realities. In fact, it’s often in illuminating the harshness of life that books find their strength.

If books have any magic at all, it’s the ability to bring a reader so close to another’s lived experiences and memories – even fictional ones – that it’s as if some of the wisdom, power, and overall emotional tenor of that life was your own. It’s this empathetic space, between memories and dreams, in which books seem to be most potent to all us.  This book, lays bare the depth of sorrow for those society deems too pitiable to even see. While the poignancy of the novel is palpable, its refusal to look away actually softens the blow, as there is little joy to weigh it against. Still, Tokyo Ueno Station is a beautiful look at life too often unobserved, and one whose resonance only seems to grow by the day.

The novel follows Kazu, a man who spends the last days of his life living in the tent city inside Ueno Park, near the eponymous train station. We see through Kazu’s eyes as he drifts around the park observing, until something triggers a memory or idea, often the rain, leading us to see another facet of Kazu’s tragic life.

The path that led Kazu to spending the last years of his long life in the park is a circuitous one, punctuated by sadness. Kazu left home at the age of 12 to find work doing hard labor jobs across the country. The work kept him busy and paid him little, only leading him to need to work more. Despite getting married and fathering two children, Kazu continued to spend the vast majority of his time away from home, sending money back, and only visiting for a few days out of the year.

Kazu sees it as part of the struggle of life, though he does feel regret for not being able to spend more time with his family. But his son’s tragic death at 21 breaks something in Kazu. His son Koichi had been living in Tokyo, and had recently passed the radiology exam; by all accounts, Kazu’s son was set to have a bright future ahead of him, vastly unlike the life Kazu himself had. But the loss is so sudden, so unexpected, Kazu struggles to recover. He laments his time away, how little he knew his children and they know him. At the funeral, a classmate of Koichi’s tells Kazu a story about his son, only highlighting what a stranger he was to his father. Later, Kazu’s mother, grieving the loss of Koichi, tells Kazu, “You never did have any luck, did you?” which seems to encapsulate and pervade every aspect of Kazu’s life and resonated with all of the participants. This quote was mentioned by Eva and Lydia but each member had a different view point of this with Monica, Ming Le and Emma had a different view.

He never quite recovers fully, and another death in the family brings Kazu to his knees. All his life, he’d thought that hardship and suffering were inherent to life, and such a struggle would lead to a future for his family, or pay off in the form of rest in his old age. But Kazu never finds any respite, no matter where he turns. Finally retired and cared for by his granddaughter, Kazu decides to flee home out of fear he would become a burden to her, though he knew that doing so would leave him destitute. Still, he packs his things, leaves a note telling his granddaughter not to come looking for him, and catches the train into Tokyo.

Kazu falls into the community of the homeless in Ueno Park. One of the only named characters is Shige, another homeless man, whom Kazu considers an intellectual due to his wide knowledge and inclination towards teaching. Even with him, however, Kazu struggles to make a true connection, unwilling to open up to Shige in a moment of vulnerability, or to really listen that intently.

The greatest strength of the novel is how well it leverages its construction to convey empathy. Reading Miri’s book almost feels like being taught a memory. She delicately weaves between Kazu’s observations in the present, the memories of his difficult life, and his musings about others and the world around him. Even though Kazu is somewhat detached towards others, he is a thoughtful and caring person, and the glimpses into his mind go a long way towards illuminating that. Miri has an innate ability to convey the experience of memory, in a way that reminds me of Ishiguro’s somber novels. The translation by Giles sings as well, even faced with difficult passages such as the teachings of a Buddhist priest and Shige’s historical monologues.  I think few books have touched me in this way but this book was truly haunting and memorable. Many thanks to Shannon and Ming Le staying up so late for us and of course a huge welcome to Fish and Vikki.

Relative reading:

1.      author:https://www.unitas.me/archives/38992

2.      Ueno park: https://storycircle571.com/2025/03/08/%E6%97%A5%E6%9C%AC%E6%9D%B1%E4%BA%AC%E2%94%82%E4%B8%8A%E9%87%8E%E5%85%AC%E5%9C%92%EF%BC%8C%E6%9D%B1%E4%BA%AC%E6%9C%80%E8%BF%B7%E4%BA%BA%E7%9A%84%E6%AD%B7%E5%8F%B2%E6%96%87%E5%8C%96%E6%A3%AE%E6%9E%97/

3.      常世 隠世 幽世.:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tokoyo_no_kuni