Of course I was going to read ‘Satellite Love’. Of course I wanted to know what the next generation of that freakishly talented Ferguson family was going to create. Also, I very much wanted to know if this novel, written by someone with roots in both Canada and Japan, would have that irresistible, addictive umami flavour that I experience as both weirdly off kilter and simultaneously oddly familiar in the Japanese writers I love from Junichiro Tanazaki to Banana Yoshimoto, and Minae Mizumura to Mieko Kawakami.
The answer is “Yes! Yippee!”
For this reason, as sixty year old prairie-born white woman whose feelings of jangling difference have long been soothed by proximity to equally quirky and lovely people, I can still appreciate a novel about a dangerously alienated teenager (Anna) in Japan. I loved the beautifully realized characters. I loved the interplay between memory and imagination, contrasted by Anna’s friend, The General, and Anna’s grandfather and her first imaginary friend, The Prince. The fantastical manifestations of Anna’s delusions were masterfully done, especially as balanced by her school-mate Soki’s exploration of his father’s (rejected) Shinto faith.
And the writing was exquisite. Mono no aware–delicious.
Yes, I really loved this book. New favorite author!