A moving and meditative mystery
Elizabeth Is Missing
Emma Healey
Language: English
Published: 2014
Publisher: Penguin Random House
Pages: 293, Paperback
Maud, 82, is slowly losing her memory. She makes tea and forgets to drink it. In her living room there is a long row of cold cups of tea on a shelf. She keeps finding little notes tucked in her pockets that remind her “not to have more toast”, “not to cook”, and definitely “not to buy tins of peach slices”. But the one note that keeps reappearing says, “Elizabeth is missing”.Despite being assured that her best friend is fine, Maud is convinced that something has happened to Elizabeth. She makes rounds to her friend’s home (only to find it deserted), calls Elizabeth’s son Peter at night to ask about her whereabouts, and even places a missing person’s advertisement in the paper. She is determined to find out what’s happened to her friend but it’s tricky when she can’t differentiate between the past and the present, or even remember what she did a day before for that matter.
Many years ago, Maud’s elder sister Susan or Sukey had also disappeared and her family never found out what had happened to her. Maud keeps confusing events relating to her sister’s disappearance with those of Elizabeth’s current unaccountable absence. However, even when her mind fails her and no one believes a thing she says, Maud keeps looking for her friend and tries to recall what exactly happened to her sister. In the end, Maud manages to dig up old facts hidden within the recesses of her memory to solve a long-buried crime.
Maud’s thought processes are, by the nature of her illness, repetitive. She constantly does and says the same things over and over again. Though that could have made the story slow and dull, Healey’s narrative is gripping enough to keep it from being bleak at any point. Healey writes about old age and aging with such finesse that you can sort of see yourself in Maud’s place someday.
Maud, with her fractured memory, also seems like a highly unreliable narrator at times. You can’t be sure if what she’s telling you is actually the truth (or just her version of it) and this makes it hard for you to guess where the story is headed. But that’s the charm of Healey’s debut novel—she lets you be the detective and shift through the clues from Maud’s memories.
Elizabeth Is Missing is many things: a crime novel, a story about mental illness and dealing with mental illness, and a meditation on the complexities of aging. It’s also a powerful and affecting portrait of a woman’s slide into dementia and the frustrations that come with it. It doesn’t fit into any particular genre but it’s a deeply satisfying read and that really should be a whole other genre in itself.
Good concept poorly explained
The Japanese island of Okinawa, where Ikigai is believed to originate from, has the largest population of centenarians in the world. Ikigai is apparently their secret to longevity, beauty, and mindfulness. Ikigai, which roughly translates to “a reason to get up in the morning” or “a reason for being”, has existed in Japan for centuries and is still deeply ingrained in Japanese daily life and culture. But the concept of Ikigai isn’t exclusive to the Okinawans and the Japanese. Ken Mogi gives us an insight on what it is and how it works in ‘The Little Book of Ikigai’.
But that’s just what it is—an insight. Don’t expect to understand the concept and be motivated to find your Ikigai after reading the book. If you have heard about Ikigai but don’t know much about it, the book might be able to give you a few ideas. Though Mogi introduces you to the five pillars of Ikigai—starting small, releasing yourself, harmony and sustainability, the joy of little things, and being in the here and now—and explores them through different aspects of Japanese life, the book feels more like a guide to Japanese culture. That could have been a good thing because the Japanese culture is fascinating. However, the author makes everything appear so idealistic and perfect that you can’t help but feel a bit annoyed.
Mogi is also far from assertive and only seems to be interested in presenting the Japanese ways of life and declaring how Ikigai plays a role in almost everything without giving any clear examples. He leaves you to draw your own conclusion on whether or not you should seek your own Ikigai, but you don’t have much to base your decision on. His analysis is superficial to the point of being preachy. Also, Mogi isn’t a skilled writer so his narrative is jumpy and he has a very roundabout way of explaining things, which makes The Little Book of Ikigai a tedious read.
However, there are snippets that make the (thankfully) short book interesting. Mogi writes about how Hayao Miyazaki, a Japanese animator who co-founded Studio Ghibli, one of the most popular animation studios in the world, understood the importance of “being here and now” by making fantastic animations for children. Then there’s the story of Jiro Ono, owner of a popular sushi restaurant, who enjoyed and believed in serving the perfect sushi. He is 91 years old, and once said that he wants to die while making sushi. It is through interesting bits like these that Mogi manages to make you curious about Ikigai. But if you want a good understanding of it or want to adopt it in your life, you will have to find other books on the topic.
Disturbing but dull
I was excited to read ‘Sharp Objects’ by Gillian Flynn as I had really enjoyed her ‘Gone Girl’. But Flynn’s debut novel is nothing like her third, which was an international bestseller. Both are psychological thrillers but the similarity ends there. Sharp Object fails to deliver the same edge-of-your-seat impact as Gone Girl. It just isn’t as well written, and something about the story feels off.Sharp Object follows Camille Preaker, a Chicago-based journalist, who returns to her hometown Wind Gap in Missouri to report on a series of brutal murders. Going back home is somewhat of an ordeal for Camille who has probably never gotten over the death of her sister, and whose relationship with her mother can only be described as cold and dysfunctional. The story is both about the murders of little girls as well as Camille’s relations with her family, and you get a sense that the two are somehow entwined. The other characters in the story, especially Camille’s boss, step-father, and half-sister, could have added interest to the story had they been developed a bit more. But Flynn doesn’t bother much with them, choosing mostly to focus on Camille and her mother, and it’s that lack of nuances and normality that makes Sharp Objects a dull, monotone read. Flynn also likes to write about dysfunctional women, but in today’s world of television and books dysfunctional characters are more the norm than well-adjusted ones so there’s nothing new there either.
Having said that, Sharp Object touches on issues like self-harm, familial bonds, and the need to fit in and be loved. There is also a generous dose of darkness and gore that is trademark Flynn and she manages to give different dimensions to the main character. Camille is unlikable and she has no redeeming qualities but you are still able to empathize with her because you realize she has been shaped by her childhood and circumstances, and that she is only human. If you read Sharp Objects with some preconceived notions about how it might or should be, based on Gone Girl, the book or the film adaptation, then you are unlikely to enjoy it. But if you haven’t read Flynn before or didn’t think much about Gone Girl, then you just might like this novel that explores the different facets of human psyche.
A feel good story
Anyone who loves cats must read ‘The Travelling Cat Chronicles’. But even if you don’t really fancy cats all that much, then too you must read this heartwarming and tender book about a man’s journey through Japan with his adopted street cat. To be honest, I’m not a big cat fan either. But if all cats were like the one in Hiro Arikawa’s novel, that was made into a live-action Japanese film in less than a year after its release, I perhaps wouldn’t have a problem with the way they seem to contort their bodies (which frankly gives me quite the chills).The story is about a Japanese man named Satoru who finds a stray cat sleeping on the hood of his silver van and takes him in as his own when it gets injured. He names the cat Nana. However, after five years, Satoru is no longer able to take care of Nana (and we don’t find out the reason until the very end). So he gets in touch with family and friends who are willing to take the cat in for him and thus begins the pair’s road trip across Japan—in search of the perfect new family for Nana.
The story, though laced with a fair bit of sorrow, for most parts is a happy one. The strong bond between Nana and Satoru warms your heart. Anyone who has ever had a pet can relate to it. The book also touches on often-complicated human traits like friendship, loyalty, and sacrifice while offering you some fascinating insights into Japanese culture and tradition. What makes this book fun and different is the fact that the narrator is a cat. You might not like the idea of an animal raconteur but we all agree that animals have feelings too, and that they sometimes understand us humans better than our friends of the same species. And having a cat narrator works to reaffirm that belief.
Nana provides you a window into how the minds of animals work and you will look at your pet or animals in general a little differently after reading The Travelling Cat Chronicles. I will admit that I still wondered why the author chose a cat and not a dog even after I was done with the book. But cats apparently hold an important place in the Japanese culture. There are shrines dedicated to them and cat cafés where people can go to hang out with cats and pet them. Almost every business has the maneki-neko, the beckoning good-luck cat that ensures success and prosperity, placed prominently at their entrance or counter.
In bits and pieces, the narrative also reads like a travelogue and that’s a refreshing change. But written in a simple style, alternating between a third person narrative and Nana, the cat, The Travelling Cat Chronicles is essentially a story about connection and communication between cats and humans, and thus by extension animals and humans. The novel might feel sappy and sentimental at times but it will leave you with a bittersweet feeling that only really good stories can evoke.
Dose of happiness
I remember buying my first ever copy of ‘Matilda’ by Roald Dahl. I was nine and the book cost Rs 350. I was fifty rupees short but I desperately wanted to read Matilda, having recently finished Dahl’s ‘The BFG’. I told the bookstore owner I would be back the next day with the rest of the money and she was nice enough to let me take the book home. There are some books that just make you happy. Matilda is one of those books that I still pick up whenever I feel a bit bogged down.
The story is heartwarming and uplifting and Dahl knows just how to delight you. Filled with humor, adventure, and a bit of mystery, this children’s book is one you should (have) read as a child (or an adult, if your childhood was Dahl-less) and to your children well before they are able to read on their own. I recently read the book and was transported back to my childhood when all I ever did during the weekends was read, and eat Cadbury Perk. Life before there was laundry and vegetable shopping to be done.
The story is about an amazingly gifted girl named Matilda who can multiply “big numbers” in her head and loves Charles Dickens. By the time she is three, she has taught herself how to read. By four, she is done with all the children’s books at the local library. She is brilliant and her classmates at school and her teacher all love her. But despite being so perfect, Matilda’s life isn’t a happy one.
Her parents couldn’t be more indifferent. Her father, Mr Wormwood, a dishonest used car salesman, actually encourages her to watch TV rather than spend her time reading. Her mother, who goes off to bingo leaving little Matilda home alone, tells her “brains never got a woman anywhere”. And they punish her for being able to solve a mathematical problem (simple addition) when her elder brother fails to do so. Basically, she is punished for being smart.
Then there’s her nightmare of a school principal. A former hammer-throwing champion who flings children at no provocation at all because she hates children and is “glad she never was one”, Mrs Trunchbull is a “gigantic holy terror, a fierce tyrannical monster who frightens the life out of the pupils and teachers alike”. The only nice person in the story is Miss Honey, Matilda’s class teacher, who is also Mrs Trunchbull’s niece. Her parents died in unexplained circumstances and Miss Honey feels it was Mrs Trunchbull who killed them but is unable to do anything about it. Matilda is determined to help Miss Honey. And she can do that because she isn’t a regular five-year-old. She has powers. She can move things with her mind.
If you feel you can’t be reading a children’s book, I urge you to reconsider. Matilda is a fun and funny story. You will find yourself smiling and giggling throughout. And when are we ever too old for that? Also, as with any Dahl story, Matilda has a strong message for both children and adults. She makes you believe in the power of standing up for yourself and the ones you love.
