Bin 11/19

 

The Devotion of Suspect X

I’ve read the entire book before. Many people consider it the peak of Keigo Higashino’s fusion of storytelling and deduction, but personally, I enjoyed Journey Under the Midnight Sun and After School even more. 

The crime itself is simple, and the answer is already hinted at in the title. The whole narrative unfolds like a neat mathematical theorem: the mother and daughter commit a murder, and Ishigami helps them escape legal consequences. What’s truly beautiful isn’t the theorem itself, but the elegance of its proof. The most thrilling aspect of the novel is how Higashino positions emotion as the single flaw in an otherwise perfect formula: mathematics is perfect, but human feelings are an uncontrollable variable.

This sets up a stunning moral dilemma at the end. Yasuko’s inescapable guilt becomes something Ishigami can never quantify or predict—no matter how gifted he is, he can’t calculate her final decision.

To me, the core of the story was never “Who is the murderer?” but rather: Why would someone devote themselves so completely to another person’s existence? That fatalistic devotion lifts the novel beyond ordinary mystery fiction and gives it a rare literary weight.

Uzumaki

I’ve known about Junji Ito and his works for years. The first piece of his I read was The Snail, a short chapter connected to the Uzumaki universe.

What sets Ito’s horror apart isn’t jump scares—it’s the way the eeriness seeps into everyday life. Uzumaki embodies this perfectly. The manga is visually overwhelming; just the first forty pages made me feel physically dizzy. 

Strange Houses

This novel genuinely scared me.

Unlike Uzumaki, which distorts physical space to create horror, this story leans toward psychological terror. While reading it, I kept thinking about Edvard Munch’s The Scream. The loosening of logical reality, the eerie border between dream and consciousness, and the characters’ mounting unease all echoed that painting’s distorted image.

More than fear, the story produces a kind of indescribable anxiety—a tension you can’t quite locate but can’t shake off either.

Before the Coffee Gets Cold

I’m not very familiar with time-travel stories, but I really enjoyed the pacing of this one. As I read, I found myself asking: If we could revisit our regrets, would we really choose differently?

I also realized something important: maybe people don’t long for the past because they want to change history—they want to understand who they were. Yet we’re all destined to confront loss, misunderstandings, farewells, and regrets that can never be undone. I believe this novel gently nudges readers toward facing their emotions in the present moment rather than escaping into fantasy.

Overall, I really like the message it delivers.

I Want to Eat Your Pancreas

I’m very familiar with this story—I’ve watched the animated film twice. It moved me deeply each time.

There’s another Japanese anime with a similar emotional core: Your Lie in April. Both works revolve around illness, secrets, and adolescence. They are both tender yet devastating.

This novel helps readers understand life and death through the connection of two souls, and that alone is powerful. But beyond the emotional impact, it also forces readers to confront the overlooked details of their own lives. 

11/19/25 - Thomas Weber

 The Devotion of Suspect X - Keigo Higashino

    This was, in my opinion, one of the most suspenseful and fun readings that we have done so far for this course. I especially enjoyed the description of the poor/homeless by Ishigami and the way in which he both humanizes yet also affirmes the concept of meaning as through actions. What I mean by this is that he is humanizing the homeless by giving them names and jobs, yet at the same time directly reflecting societies views of them by making large assumptions and tying their daily activity to their being and character. Further along, although I found the sudden change in perspective somewhat jarring it fit quite well into the story and helped to create meaningful context and suspense in the story. My favorite part of this reading was that it both gave me some insight into how the relationship between ex-husband and ex-wife is seen in Japan, through the scene with the mention of the cops coming, as well as its simple narrative and fun circular evidence like with the mention of the bike at the start. Overall a fun reading that held suspense, gave me some insights, but did not capture me for its writing in particular.

Strange Houses - Uketsu

    This was my favorite story from this week. Deeply creepy and greatly atmospheric, this story did an amazing job of blending in realistic clues with surrealistic circumstances. Although I am not often drawn to investigative novels I found this one tasteful in the way that the problems and theories themselves are imagined and not grounded in certainty. It is not like we know for sure that someone died out of malice or that malpractice was performed. This uncertainty adds a good amount of ability for the reader to flesh out their own theories and either agree or disagree with the writer on major plot points. I will most definitely be buying this novel when I get the chance.

Before the Coffee Gets Cold - Toshikazu Kawaguchi

    About a year ago I bought this book at a nearby bookstore and gave it a quick read. Although the writing did not stand out to me and the concept was relatively simple in nature I found myself quickly drawn in by its relatability in its storytelling. A common theme, it seems, for this weeks readings is to move away from more literarily complex pieces into more heartfelt and emotionally available ones. This is a book that I commonly recommend to friends who have not read in a while due to its easy but still compelling nature. 

I Want to Eat Your Pancreas - Yoru Sumino

    Having watched the anime as well as previously read part of this story in English I have always loved the way in which it treats mortality. However, in this story I did find the main character to be a lot more human, as well as an (pardon my French) asshole, and that the story felt even more forced that in did in the Anime. To me it feels like a sort of fantastical narrative by someone who feels dejected and rejected by society and created this story to insert a love story into a character similar to themselves. I still enjoyed the ideas around mortality, specifically the idea that we are all dying and or set to die without knowledge of when and how we choose to live our lives in conjunction with this dilemma of comfort or experience, but was more bugged by this strange feel of the story than I had in the past. 

Uzumaki - Junji Ito

    I think that it is safe to say that reading this between the hours of 3am and 4am was not the brightest idea that I've ever had. I quickly found myself reading well beyond the assigned reading pulled in by the strange and graphic depictions in the manga. I see this story as a quantification of the vastness and un-understandable nature of the world around us and how we so easily find ourselves literally putting ourselves into the mold of our curiosities and obsessions. What a fun read!

Sylvia Chen 11/19

Reading The Devotion of Suspect X made me feel really tight and uncomfortable….. From the beginning, Yasuko and Misato seem trapped in a corner. They are scared and powerless, and when the ex-husband appears, the feeling of “there is no escape” becomes even stronger. While reading, I felt the same tension. When an accidental killing happened, I was not shocked at all. Instead, I felt a heavy drop in my heart, like pressure that had been building for a long time finally bursting. Yasuko and Misato are not bad. They were simply pushed to their limit. And that limit felt very real to me as I read. And the most painful part for me of the chapter was not the death itself, but the helplessness of having to live with it.

I also don’t like the story Strange Houses. The scariest part for me is that the woman in the story actually drew her own death, and she didn’t even know it (or maybe she did.) Her drawings look normal at first, but when rearranged and put together, they reveal how she dies. When simple drawings suddenly become a death scene, it gave me chills. And when the character finally understands what the drawings mean, I also freeze. It’s felt just like a horror movie. Seeing those separate pieces of paper suddenly form the shape of a dead body is very unsettling. (I'm genuinely terrified of this kind of Japanese horror. It gives me nightmares.)

After reading Before the Coffee Gets Cold, I feel like I understand “going back to the past” in a new way. Maybe what we want to change is not the event itself, but the version of ourselves from that moment ( the one who didn’t understand and didn’t have time to speak). I feel like the character wants to go back, not because she wants her ex-boyfriend back. Instead, she goes because the breakup happened so fast that she had no time to think. That feeling of not explaining, not expressing emotions, and not understanding why things ended. And sometimes what we really want is just to know what happened and why. The cafe's rules feel very symbolic to me. They show that the only thing we can truly change is who we are now. The goes back, cannot get a different result, but only an understanding.

In I Want to Eat Your Pancreas, the thing that stood out to me most is how the story shows the small, delicate space between life and death. The male character is very calm, almost cold, and this makes the emotions feel heavier and more real. In contrast, Sakura appears full of energy and light. Her attitude toward her illness seems almost too relaxed, but because of that, I can feel she is actually dealing with fear in her own way. She uses her smile as a shield, and she stays calm because she knows her time is limited. It’s a strange and sad feeling. The closer she is to disappearing, the harder she tries to live fully. When the two characters first start to notice each other, I notice a small but clear change. Sakura is slowly opening up the male character’s world, even though he doesn’t realize it yet.

In Uzumaki, what impressed me most was how Junji Ito creates fear without using any actual monsters. Instead, the story becomes scary when the boy’s father suddenly becomes obsessed with spirals for no reason. The hidden is in small details, and fear grows little by little. For me, this kind of fear feels more real because it comes from something familiar in daily life, slowly turning strange. I also think the spiral is frightening because it is just a simple shape. It has no life or emotion. But in the story, the characters react to it in such strange ways that the spiral starts to feel like something from another world. It feels wrong and inhuman, and that makes it even scarier.

May Inui 11/19/25

 “The Devotion of Suspect X” was really interesting, and I would like to read the rest of the story. I could really feel Yasuko’s hopelessness when dealing with Togashi, as well as the fear she has of him potentially harming her and her daughter. I’m also interested in what happens to Ishigami and his relationship with Yasuko. He seems like an intriguing character, and I would like to see how he develops. 

I watched Uketsu’s YouTube video on this story in Japanese a while back, but it was nice to read it in English, it had a different feel. The Japanese video felt creepier and more unsettling, while the English written version had more of a mystery tone. I thought it would be harder to follow since I remember the video being a bit all over the place, but the story was written very well. 

Uzumaki was very unsettling for me. I’m not a big comic/manga reader, so the disturbing visuals really got to me after a certain point. I didn’t think much of the spirals at first, but by the end, I’m not sure I can look at spirals the same way again.. 

I enjoyed “Before the Coffee Gets Cold.” I liked the concept of being able to go back in time at a cafe, but only under very specific conditions. I’m interested in whether Fumiko gets to talk to Goro and how that situation plays out, since she seemed so determined to change the present even though that isn’t allowed. I’d also like to know more about what their relationship was like before they broke up. 

I watched the live-action movie of "I want to eat your pancreas" a while back, so I didn’t remember the plot very well, but it was nice to read it in English this time. I thought it was a rather cute story, even though it deals with themes of death and illness. The author, or at least the girl protagonist, approaches these themes somewhat lightly, I felt. I got the impression that her joking about dying soon was her way of coping with the reality of her situation.

Sam Kraus - 11/19

This week's readings were lots of fun, and I enjoyed every single one of them, starting with The Devotion of Subject X. Firstly, we learn that Ishigami is a math teacher in high school, and on his way to work, he notices that the green bike was missing - immediately, in a Chekhov's gun sense, readers are informed that this bike will have some sort of significance, which it of course does. Further on the topic of the commute, I like the descriptions of the working people of a society vs. the poor or jobless. Ishigami passes through a homeless camp under the overpass, and we see mentions of what some of the homeless do with their time, such as crushing cans, reading industrial magazines, etc. We further learn about the plight of some of their situations through quotes such as, "The chances of anyone wanting him for a job at his age were close to zero anyway." Although ageism is an issue no matter where you go, particularly in Japan, ageism is a severe issue in the workplace. Due to the many variables stacked against them, there is regrettably little hope for a person like that. I like that this section is included as Ishigami commutes to work, because as I mentioned, it is a stark contrast between people who live in the same society. Anyways, this story mainly revolves around Yasuko. Yasuko immediately reminded me of Makiko from Breasts and Eggs, as Yasuko is a single mother who works at a night club, raising her only daughter Misato. Sayoko even mentions to Yasuko, "You wouldn't want her developing a complex because her mom's a nightclub hostess," and this is interesting as this is something that Midoriko must contend with too. Aside from this, we are introduced to Shinji, the ex-husband and antagonist of the reading. Keigo Higashino did a great job portraying a manipulative, narcissistic, power hungry ex-partner who refuses to move on. Some of the sentences even made me feel deeply unsettled and angry, such as when he says, "Hard for a woman living by herself to raise a kid... I've changed... you'll give in before I will, every time." "I've changed," is a classic weapon that an abuser will use, and nothing displays "change" like stalking and coercing your ex-partner at work... Another unsettling moment came when he approached Misato in the apartment - "The way he was standing blocked Misato from Yasuko's view, so she couldn't see how her daughter was reacting." This sentence does an incredible job of portraying Yasuko's powerlessness against this man, and you can imagine just how terrified Yasuko was in this moment, given that her daughter was out of sight as this man approached her. Furthermore, the cops being unwilling to help is even more damning, as seemingly, there is nothing she can do. At some points it was hard to read, as people like Shinji absolutely exist and cause people lots of suffering. And on top of that, there are plenty of stories of women reporting these types of men, in which the police do nothing, and something terrible ends up happening to them. Still, I was pleased when Misato bonks him on the head at the end. She is the hero of the story for doing that, although I can imagine that only made things worse.

As for Before the Coffee Gets Cold, I actually bought this book the day before this. I did not know we were reading it, and I had heard good things about it. And, I can confidently say that I absolutely enjoyed it. To start, I like the foreshadowing of the past, present, and future, teased by the antique clocks - "There were three large antique wall clocks in the cafe. The arms of each, however, showed different times." Of course, the reading deals with time and the past, present, and future, so to me, the three different clocks with three different times represents the past, present, and the future. Shortly after, we are introduced to our main character, Fumiko. She sounds like a pretty amazing woman as she graduated from the top of her class at Waseda and speaks 6 languages (although later in the novel she speaks 8 different ones, so I am not sure if that was an error or if she speaks only 6/8 fluently?) Anyways, her loser boyfriend decides to up and leave her on a whim to move to America of all places. She is distraught over this, and the conversation in which he broke up with her took place at the very cafe this story revolves around. Upon revisiting this cafe, Fumiko learns that she can travel back in time. Initially, she wants to travel back in time to convince him to stay around. Hirai and Kazu slowly reveal the secrets of the process, and Fumiko commits to visiting the past. However, this is interesting, as Fumiko is explicitly told that she is unable to change anything through this process. Yet, she still wants to do it. Is it to try to convince him anyways? To see his face one more time? To voice her frustrations without consequence? Who knows, but to me, it could go one of two ways - she could tell him off or something and get closure, or she would simply prolong her pain. Without being able to change anything, it seems that revisiting the past would be futile. On a different note, I love the portrayal of this underground cafe - it comes across as its own little world in which characters gather for similar reasons, and they suffer from similar issues. Even with the future displaying endless possibilities, our characters are stuck on one fixed outcome from the past that weighs them down, yet cannot be altered. 

I enjoyed I Want to Eat Your Pancreas, and I even ended up reading the rest of it. Still, I could not help but think of something silly - why would Sakura hang out with this guy? The author tries to play it off as - well, he is the only one who knows her secret, and he does not treat her differently even knowing that she is going to die, so that is why. However, I cannot take this as being realistic. Honestly, this more so comes off as a fantasy that some quiet guy in the back of the classroom would have, and the author is trying to tap into that audience. Especially because although he did make me laugh a couple of times, the protagonist can be annoying. Regardless, as I mentioned, it was enjoyable for me - mainly because I liked Sakura. Furthermore, I do think that the main sentiment of the piece is not only poignant, but true - "Is it really all right for you to be spending what little time you have organizing books in the school library?" Response: "You have things you want to do before you die, too, right? Yet you're not doing them. Either one of us could die tomorrow." As someone who appreciates classical stoic philosophy and Buddhism, this is a familiar sentiment. We are all dying every single day, yet we only pay attention to those who are, say, terminally or visibly dying. To most people, death appears to be a far off day or even an impossibility, but pieces like this attempt to remind us the truth. Speaking of Buddhism, I actually found some parts of the reading to be quite Genji-esque, such as, "I took a step with each pulse of my heartbeat, and my mood soured by the forced awareness of the transience and fragility of my life." This whole piece reminds me of the concept of Mono no Aware, and even other sentences such as, "It has started in April, when the late-blooming Sakura trees still held their cherry blossoms," also reminded me of that. Of course too, Sakura is a fitting name for the young girl, as she only lived for a short time, yet left many in awe and emotionally moved. Of course, it is also the ephemerality of something like that that makes something so beautiful in the first place. Would a cherry blossom be as magnificent and culturally cherished if it survived year round? I do not think so. 

I knew of Junji Ito and his fame, but I had not actually read any of his works before. I simply had seen photos of it, and truthfully, I am surprised that it took me so long to read something. I am not into manga or anime, but I do love the manga Berserk, and it shares similar elements of dark fantasy which is my favorite genre. I love the deeply unsettling, eerie build up as Shuichi's father slowly loses his mind in the process of staring at spirals. The panels became increasingly disturbing, and the build up to the last one was magnificent. Honestly, the last panel was horrifying, but in the best way possible. It is hard to form too many thoughts after such a short reading, but I felt very uncomfortable and on the edge of my seat the whole time. This winter break, I would love to explore more of his work, as this is the type of fiction I love. 

Lastly, just like everything else, I really enjoyed Uketsu. The build up of the mystery of the photos was well done, and along with being unnerving, the story was tragic too. Raku's blogs were quite upbeat, happy, and optimistic about the future. However, throughout this entire process, the wife knew the truth of what fate would unravel for her. Throughout the entirety of the blog and her pregnancy, she knew that she would die upon giving birth to their child. And when Raku figured this out, I could only imagine how much pain he felt - pain, grief, depression, and betrayal. This is one of the novels that I plan to purchase, as I would love to figure out what happens next. Yuki absolutely appeared to love Raku, yet it seems as if her fate was sealed, and to protect Raku, she let events unfold as they did. I thought the most depressing moment of the story was when Shuhei revealed the last two images of the father and child walking together - Yuki knew that it would be just them together. Although the story was emotionally moving at points, I enjoyed the adventure of Shuhei and Kurihara solving the puzzle piece by piece. I had no clue what was going to happen, even though I even tried to consider it for a bit. Reading each page felt rewarding as new information was revealed, and I overall liked this story a lot. One of the themes appears to be the powerlessness of human beings at times, as Raku was stuck in a chain of events that were guaranteed to happen, outside of his control, and in the midst of this, he was uninformed, powerless, and ultimately, completely alone. 

May Inui 11/12/25

I liked the message that “War Bride” was trying to convey, that words can sometimes hurt more than actions. The line “Things that have no meaning are bound to be less damaging than things that do” stood out to me. The protagonist is deeply afraid of hurting others because she understands how lasting pain can be, especially the kind caused by words. “When you're hurt, you're hurt forever.” “A single experience of pain sets off an endless process- you relive the pain every moment of your life. Though the mind may rationalize it as a thing of the past, sorrow returns again and again.” I interpreted this passage as conveying the nature of trauma. Having experienced word-induced trauma herself, the girl fears inflicting it on others. As a result, she learns to cope by staying silent, choosing not to be a burden to anyone. The story also explores the idea of believing your trauma will never fade, yet slowly learning how to live with it. I found the ending especially poetic, she understands the weight of words from a young age and chooses silence, even in the face of immense loss, such as her child’s death. 

“A Poor Aunt Story” was my favorite piece. I loved the way Murakami set the scene in the first few pages, how the story begins so suddenly, with the narrator feeling an unexpected urge to write about a “poor aunt.” At first, I thought the poor aunt was just a metaphor for an idea she wanted to express, but as the story went on, it seemed that the narrator truly believed there was a poor aunt on her back. I wondered why this image seemed to change shape for different people. Is the “poor aunt” just words? I think the story suggests that words, and the images they create, can become so vivid that once you imagine them, you can’t easily get rid of them, like a lingering memory. What I enjoyed the most was Murakami’s ability to take such an ordinary and strange idea and turn it into something beautiful. I really enjoyed this story from beginning to end. 

I found “The Great Passage” quite interesting. “If some definitions weren’t quite successful, he liked the way they at least made a good effort.”: I found the narrator’s view of dictionaries as imperfect, “at least they made a good effort”, particularly intresting because I’ve always thought of dictionaries as the epitome of correctness, since they define words. The story started off rather slow with its detailed descriptions of dictionaries, and I initially thought I might not enjoy it, but by the end it became a very heartwarming story. I found myself intrigued by Majime's character. 

I didn’t think I would enjoy “The Fall of Language in the Age of English” at first, since it initially read like an academic paper. However, I actually found it very interesting, especially the discussion about how science and mass-produced goods, essentially faster dopamine and entertainment, contribute to the downfall of the humanities. The author counters this idea by arguing that literature allows for the proposal of questions and the exploration of ambiguity, something science does not allow. I also found the emphasis on the world entering the “age of English” due to its dominance in academia particularly interesting, as well as the point that machine translation will never truly reach the standards of human translation. This reading reminded me a lot of last week’s “Self-Reference Engine,” though I personally found this one more engaging. 

“The Emissary” was an interesting contrast to “The Fall of Language in the Age of English.” It takes place in a setting where people no longer study English and where Japan has attempted to erase all traces of Western influence, essentially closing off the country completely. I liked the dystopian atmosphere of the story, such as the absence of telephones. I also enjoyed the ending, particularly the description of Marika, whom I found to be a very intriguing character. 

11/12/25 - Thomas Weber

 Mieko Kawakami, "War Bride"

    This story was perhaps the hardest to actually interpret in my opinion due to its short nature as well as the complexity of its ideas. In reading it the crux of the story that I understood was that of grief and or sorrow becoming integral in a person. Simply put, pain in any fashion becomes an intrinsic part of a person, whether this destroys them or cloaks them in some kind of protective sheath depends on the person. However, pain in this story is presented as an axiom of existence. One can avoid it for themselves by sheltering themselves but also causes pain in that sheltering. Finally the part about not wanting to impart pain onto others and the true consciousness of words was interesting. This in my opinion was a sort of commentary on modern Japanese society as being too focused on what affects others and not the self, as well as the ideas of the veil of language and how interpretation leads both to misunderstandings, pain, and remembrance. 

I also briefly considered this story to be about sexual assault at the beginning which I do think still fits within the narrative as something that due to its lack of social status for women in Japan causes a shutting down of the individual to society.

   

Haruki Murakami, "A Poor Aunt Story"

    This story was a lot of fun to read. It took me on a journey of sorts using what almost seemed like Murakami himself thinking out loud to the reader. It also brought about an interesting idea that remembrance does not always mean importance. What I mean by this is that all of the characters in the story directly remembered their version of the "poor aunt" yet the importance that was attached to these individuals did not stem just from them being remembered but from the lack of impact they had on their lives. I am probably not explaining this properly but what I mean to say that I found interesting is the idea that simply being remembered is not enough. One must be remembered for more than they were in a vacuum and as a part of society for them to avoid becoming a poor aunt.

Shion Miura, "The Great Passage"

    This was my favorite passage from the readings for this week. Specifically because it acknowledges the shortcomings and beauties of language in its use and propagation between people. It really felt like language within the context of this story was a constantly evolving organism that absorbs everything around it to become universal all whilst keeping its context and interpretation incredibly individualistic. In this I am curious as to some of the challenges that the translator may have run into having to translate definitions of words in other languages, what a headache!

Yoko Tawada, "The Emissary"

    The Emissary was a wild read to say the least. It brought in so many themes from isolationism to climate change to age as a burden and a curse. Not being able to focus on all of these aspects I will focus on what I personally found the most interesting. That was the way in which time and age was presented. Perhapse the most interesting of the examples in the story is the way in which (seemingly) gaining a longer lifespan and everything that was invested into making that happen has actually regressed the population to the point of losing basic living qualities that we take for granted today. Whether that is the internet, a stable climate, the unity of the country itself, or our understanding of language, the presentation of age and the passage of time as being fundamentally stretched seems to have a created a world of more division rather than unity. Something that we do not often consider when thinking of living longer. How would living longer actually separate society along generational and temporal lines rather than unifying it?

Minae Mizumura, "The Fall of the Language in the Age of English

    This story was one of the most interesting readings that we have gone over so far. While I do not completely agree with what the writer is saying as to the nature of language and the "special" nature of the English language I do appreciate his view. What this language assumes that I do not completely agree with are two things. One is the strength of identity in determination of language and culture, and the second is relationships between languages not being able to evolve for mutual growth. For my first point I completely understand the idea that English has become an intellectual language internationally and is considered the diplomatic language of the world, leading to people associating their own languages with a certain lack of refinement, and therefore hurting nations that exist outside the direst sphere of English. However, this assumes multiple things. Firstly, that America and English speaking countries will remain the dominant economic (which is where most of the incentive for the intellectual nature of English comes from) and scientific centers of the world, something that has especially in recent years started to become challenged by China, as well as a lack of pride existing in the traditional texts in native languages around the world. If we take the middle east for example they have one of the most concentrated areas of intellectual prowess from anywhere in the world written entirely in Arabic and adjacent languages that have trouble being translated into English. Not only are these texts extremely highly regarded internationally but they form one of the backbones of scientific and cultural understandings of the world and religions of the world. Secondly, this assumes that languages do not grow in tandem with each other. Languages, in the way that I see them, are continually evolving and growing social organisms that absorb their environment and adapt to fit the scenarios around them. This idea assumes that English will not start to form direct relationships with other languages in ways that will integrate both into the English lexicon as well as the language itself. A perfect example of this is English and French. Both sharing similar roots they naturally share a lot of vocabulary, but in addition to this new vocabulary in English has imbedded itself into the English language and vice versa. This is seen even in languages as distant as Japanese and English where terms, expressions, and common phrases have broken the boundary between the two languages consistently. What an interesting reading!