“Some things I cannot see until I write about them.” (Yuko Tsushima)

I wasn’t planning on joining in Japanese Literature challenge 17 hosted by Meredith at Dolce Bellezza other than enjoying other bloggers wonderful posts. However this enthusiastic post by Marina Sofia on Tsushima Yūko’s Territory of Light meant I immediately started rooting through the TBR to find Child of Fortune (1978, transl. Geraldine Harcourt 1983), which I knew I had buried somewhere…

This is the first of her novels I’ve read and on the strength of this I definitely want to read more. Novella length, it tells the story of Kōko, a 36-year-old single mother to eleven-year-old Kayako. Told in the third person from Kōko’s perspective, it is a compelling examination of one woman’s inner world and her barely articulated resistance to the expectations placed on her.

Early in the novel, Kōko suspects she is pregnant. She is ambivalent about Osada, the father, as she is about most things. But gradually she realises that she wants to keep the child:

“Maybe she was reaching an age when it was senseless to want a fatherless child; but, precisely because of her age, she didn’t want to make a choice that she would regret till the day she died. Lately she was more convinced than ever that there was no point in worrying about what people thought. She would soon be thirty-seven. The only person watching Kōko at thirty-seven was Kōko. When this obvious fact finally came home to her it was still a surprise – what a very lonely fact it was!”

Geraldine Harcourt’s informative introduction explains that pregnancy at that age in Japan around this time could still be viewed as shameful even within marriage, so Kōko’s decision is doubly transgressive.

Kōko is an intriguing character, as she lives an unconventional life which places her in opposition to so many, by barely doing anything. Her lack of decision-making is an act of quiet but determined resistance.

Her sister Shoko is much more conventional and doesn’t approve; Kōko’s daughter Kayako much prefers to spend time with her more affluent, conformist aunt. Kōko tries to explain to Shoko:

“No, that’s not it – don’t think I’ve liked using choosing a different world from other people. I know I’ve been stubborn – but not about Kayako alone. All my life, though I often haven’t known which way to turn, I have managed to make choices of my own. I don’t know if they were right or wrong. I don’t think anyone can say that.”

But really she hasn’t made that many choices. She married because of pregnancy; husband Hatanaka organised the divorce years later, unsurprisingly as Kōko didn’t love him, still holding a candle for her lover Doi. She doesn’t enjoy her job teaching piano, but she also takes no steps to do anything else. She doesn’t take great care of herself and she doesn’t have many friends or interests.

Two driving forces in her life are her love for her brother, who died many years earlier, and sexual desire. The latter has led to her current predicament, the former suggests one reason that may be contributing to her lack of attachments.

“A little over a year ago, Kōko had understood something for the first time: the in the end she had let everything slip away from her, that in reality she hadn’t a single resource. It was an alarming discovery.”

Her lack of attachment includes reality – we are taken into Kōko’s dreams and daydreams, woven in seamlessly but disconcertingly.  As we move back and forth in time, learning about Kōko’s childhood, marriage, griefs and pains, Tsushima builds a picture of a woman who may not be completely likable but who is recognisably human and flawed, and muddling through the best way she knows how.

I was really rooting for Kōko to find a more articulate agency, and the penultimate scene was unbearably tense in this regard. Child of Fortune is never didactic yet absolutely achieves a compelling portrait of a woman fighting for her life, against immense societal pressure.   

“Kōko was shaken by the realisation that even now, more than twenty years later, she still lacked any compelling reason to go on living. And by the fact that the will to live was still there.”

To end, Kōko has fond memories of a visit to Karuizawa, which does look lovely:

PS When I was looking for a title quote for this post, I found this great conversation between Tsushima and Annie Ernaux.

24 thoughts on ““Some things I cannot see until I write about them.” (Yuko Tsushima)

  1. I have Territory of Light but decided to read something else for Bellezza’s challenge. I like the sound of this. When Japanese characters are unconventional they are so in a very different way to Western characters. I also hardly ever mind their lack of decision making. Sounds like a book I would like.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh, this sounds brilliant, Madame B. I’ve only read Territory of Light and some short pieces, but I was really impressed. She has such an individual voice and distinctive style, and takes on characters who don’t fit into the mould. I’ll have to look out for this one too!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This sounds very interesting Madame B, especially with the way the introduction helps clarify the context. I have not read Territory of Light, so now there are two more books to tempt me!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I always find Japanese society feels very foreign in literature somehow – more so than most other countries. But it appears that the pressure on women are pretty universal! Karuizawa does look like a perfect day trip destination!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Love this review! “It is a compelling examination of one woman’s inner world and her barely articulated resistance to the expectations placed on her.” Yes, that’s Tsushima’s modus operandi to a T.
    I liked this book, but to my mind Territory of Light is in a different league. You have so much to look forward to with this author!

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  6. The only person watching Kōko at thirty-seven was Kōko, at first that seems very sad but then I think it’s a great realisation and should give her freedom; I think I need to read this. I do agree about the introduction and the context, that’s very important and makes the book even more appealing. Fabulous review, thanks!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Oh, I loved these classic Women’s Press editions. I snapped them up regardless of whether I’d heard of either title or author: consistently quality and often an introduction to writers I’d’ve not been introduced to otherwise.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. I have read Territory of Light and Woman Running in the mountains by Yūko Tsushima and I have this one on my Kindle. I had been very tempted to read it this month. I can definitely see some parallels in both those novels to this one, which also sounds very good.

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