Archipelago of the sun

Suggested in the Stars author Tawada concludes her trilogy following Japanese expat Hiruko with an endlessly playful and deeply moving tale of language and the meaning it offers. Having settled in Denmark years earlier, Hiruko was recently shocked to find that her home country no longer appears on maps and no one seems to remember it. Accompanied by five friends, she voyages into the Baltic Sea on a Wes Anderson--esque mail boat, hoping to see for herself whether Japan is still out there or if it's sunk into the ocean. The ship's "private UN" gathers at mealtimes in the dining room to converse in English and their respective native languages (Danish, German, and Japanese), along with Hiruko's invented Scandinavian-inflected language of Panska, with which she coins her own aphorisms to explain her motives for the journey ("no return, no risk"). Tawada casts her merry band in relief against forces of oppression, such as transphobia (Akash, a sari- and makeup-wearing Indian man, is afraid to get off the boat for sightseeing in a Russian province) and the obnoxiousness of cultural chauvinism (Akash challenges an English passenger who drones on about the supremacy of his nation's literature). Rather than a simplistic story of resilience, though, this shows in its moving conclusion how Hiruko and her friends find a way forward through dialogue and storytelling. It's a marvel. (Sept.)

Tawada's band of multinational, multiethnic, and multitalented pilgrims continues (and perhaps concludes) its journey to discover what happened to the homeland of one of its number in the third volume of a whimsical trilogy, followingScattered All Over the Earth (2022) andSuggested in the Stars (2024). Still in search of Hiruko's ostensibly obliterated homeland of Japan, the travelers start their journey on a surreal decommissioned mailboat in the Baltic Sea. Intriguingly, several of their fellow shipmates could be the ghosts of literary figures. Traveling from port to port, the group comes face to face with shifting borders and national identities, many of which have changed over time due to military and political developments. Observations about the impermanent nature of the concept of "country," made of paper and promises, versus the permanence of "towns," which endure beyond the shifting of borders, lead to a discussion of what happens when a house is destroyed. Tawada's frequently explored themes of identity and belonging, transitions, and the barriers and bridges built by language are on display here, along with commentary on current immigration issues. This ultimately leads Hiruko--who may never determine what has become of her birth county--to a very personal, and literal, solution to where her "house" will be. As Hiruko, and the others she refers to as a "private UN," come to the realization that the route they are on is unlikely to get her any closer to her homeland, decisions must be made about who is going ahead and with whom. The tale's ending leaves room for conjecture about the question of destination, but not the bonds created within the group of wanderers. Tawada's usual spirit of cheerful speculation creates a believable, but impossible, set of circumstances for her appealing characters to muse upon, argue over, and learn from. Proof that thoughtful novels of ideas can be fun as well as provocative. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.