Bin 10/8

When I was in middle school, I read George Orwell’s 1984. I can’t really remember much of the plot now, but Yoko Ogawa’s The Memory Police immediately brought that world back to mind — another dystopian society built on erasing difference and enforcing control. The tone of Ogawa’s novel feels cold and sad to me. Memories, emotions, and ideas tied to countless objects slowly fade away, and people can’t even protect the things that once held their pasts. The scenes where the Memory Police hunt down those who still remember vanished objects reminded me of the films Persian Lessons and V for Vendetta.

Reading The Easy Life in Kamusari was an entirely different experience — relaxing and effortless. I’ve always liked the light, easygoing vibe of “light novels,” and the first chapter’s simplicity made it even more enjoyable. What surprised me, in retrospect, is how vividly I could imagine myself breathing the forest air of that quiet mountain village. I tried to look for some deeper “message” in the protagonist’s daily work of forest care, but maybe that’s unnecessary. Once the reader joins him in the woods, feels his rhythm, and shares his quiet joy, the meaning of the story reveals itself naturally.

The Little Woods in Fukushima, on the other hand, didn’t resonate with me as much. I’m not a big fan of a near-documentary style of storytelling — plain, restrained, maybe too realistic for my taste. Still, it’s hard to ignore the powerful themes it presents: death, disaster, and decline — all things that deserve attention and reflection.

From the title alone, the word “scattered” in Scattered All Over the Earth immediately stands out. It seems to hint at some of the novel’s main concerns — the disappearance of nations, the end of collective narratives, the reshaping of personal identity, and the collapse and rebirth of language. In that sense, it connects closely with The Memory Police: both explore the loss of the vessels that carry our thoughts and memories.