"Mild Vertigo" by Mieko Kanai offers a neutral literary experience. The narrative unfolds with an ethereal quality, blurring the lines between reality and imagination. The prose is sophisticated, but the plot may feel elusive. Kanai's work may appeal to those seeking a contemplative, atmospheric read, though it lacks broad accessibility.

Short and delicate, like a more literary FAULT LINES. I'd certainly read more from this author and will look out for what they next write.

Natsumi is a Japanese housewife who feels irritated by the Sisyphean daily tasks facing her, is slightly nauseated by her husband’s mansplaining and his middle-aged spread, yet is annoyed at the expensive exercise gear taking up space in their apartment. She envies her former classmates who have interesting jobs, yet cannot get round to applying for a job or even taking up a hobby. She spends time talking to her neighbours and observing some of the disturbing behaviour going on. There’s a surprising amount of violence, animal cruelty and dysfunctional behaviour, yet the book is also wry and funny. There’s also a section which is supposedly an article a friend gives her about an art exhibition, which was actually written by Mieke Kanai. There’s an awful lot going on in this novel. I’d really like to read it again. Highly recommended, especially to anyone who has ever spent time as a stay at home mum.

Disclaimer: This review reflects my true and honest opinion of this book, even though I received a free digital copy via NetGalley.

I read a lot of Japanese fiction, it's very much a favourite area for me, and this is a beautifully written and fine-tuned meditation on being a human and a woman (especially as a daughter/wife/mother). It's deceptively simple but really raw and powerful in it's emotional depictions but also a very nuanced interaction with the modern world of work and emotional labour, family and community. Polly Barton's translation is seamless.

I have to start this by admitting I didn't finish this one. Mieko Kanai's novel is - I'm sure - brilliant... for those who could finish it, but the writing style just wasn't for me.

Let me start by saying that I love Japanese fiction. Murakami, Banana Yoshimoto and Hiromi Kawakami are among my favourites. I requested a proof of Mild Vertigo for this exact reason.

The novel itself is a stream of consciousness by a terminally bored housewife questioning her place in society and in her home. Ordinarily, this is a premise that is definitely my cup of tea, but I am sorry to say that I found the style to be impossible to follow. There is a distinct lack of structure, and long sentences (almost a page each!) flow into one another so often that I would lose track of the topic in every few pages.

After trying to persevere for over 30% of the book, I just wasn't enjoying it or even finding it interesting enough to warrant spending my time on, as I have many other novels to read.

I must, however, mention Polly Barton's brilliant translation. It is so effortless and retains such a unique voice that it's easy to forget that this is not a book originally written in the English Language.

I give Mild Vertigo (what I read of it) 3 stars for Kanai's originality, and for Barton's impeccable translation.

Natsumi's life revolves around her family and the mundane tasks that accompany her role as a housewife. From preparing meals to tending to her husband and children, every action becomes a symbol of the monotonous and isolated life she leads.

Originally written in 1997 by Mieko Kanai and recently translated into English by Polly Barton, Mild Vertigo delves into the depths of isolation, the challenges of a monotonous life, and the intricacies of family relationships.

By painting a vivid picture of Natsumi's repetitive daily routine, Mieko Kanai masterfully captures the essence of monotony and the suffocating feeling of being trapped in a never-ending cycle. The unconscious mental narrative style allows the reader to dive into the depths of Natsumi's mind, experiencing her internal monologue and feeling the weight of each monotonous act in real time. Her musings, fears, and desires reflect the mundane nature of her daily life and provide a glimpse into the depths of her longing for something more meaningful.

Within this domestic sphere, which serves as a microcosm of alienation, Kanai examines the intricate dynamics of family relationships. Natsumi's interactions with her husband and children serve as a backdrop for studying the multifaceted nature of familial bonds and the human need for connection and belonging. At the heart of the novel lies Natsumi's relationship with her husband and the intricacies of marriage, exploring the challenges of maintaining intimacy and connection over time.

Mild Vertigo is a dreamlike and introspective journey of a woman who contemplates her own existence and the challenges of forging connections in a world that can feel disconnected. Hence the title of the novel. It reflects the protagonist's internal state of mind, which is often dizzying and disorienting.

This is like a shorter, less overtly political version of Ducks, Newburyport set in Japan. It is the quiet story of the day-to-day life, minor disappointments, small satisfactions of a perfectly ordinary middle-class Japanese housewife, Natsumi, living in Tokyo with her husband and two sons. Except we find out that she is not quite ordinary: first of all, because the pure housewife role is no longer that commonplace and so she finds herself isolated among her friends; secondly, because there is a constant monologue running through her head and we are privy to it from the very first disorienting, dazzlingly long sentence with its endless flourish of commas.

I found this book difficult to read and finish due to how it was structured. Very long sentences and paragraphs with very little pause or separating of content so to speak.

It was a mundane book but in a rich and interesting way, similar to #miekokawakami in some senses. I think with more varied content the author could be huge.

Mild Vertigo is truly an apt title for Mieko Kanai's 1997 novella, written in a dizzyingly minute style that honours all the little details encountered within one moment of a day.

Following Natsumi, living in Tokyo with her husband and children, Mild Vertigo pays attention to the mundane: to the order and layout of a supermarket, to the way objects move around an apartment; Kanai honours the quotidien, and, in doing so, honours the life of Natsumi who may not otherwise appear centre-stage. The prose is challenging, and yet rewarding: it demands the reader to read every word on the page and recognise them in their sequential order; to validate the importance of Natsumi's day.

There was one chapter that I could not read due to cruelty to cats, which I cannot abide.

It's a curious little book, and potential readers who share similar taste with me (who are in That demographic of translated fiction readers recently highlighted in the Guardian) would do well to remember that Mild Vertigo was written in 1997, which was ultimately a different era to our contemporary 2023 when it has been published in English.

Mieko Kanai is a clever, ambitious writer and her novel Mild Vertigo is one I would definitely recommend for Women in Translation Month to broaden literary horizons.

Thanks to Fitzcarraldo Editions and Netgalley for the e-arc in exchange for an honest review.

My first thought on starting to read this book was that it was a poor relation of Lucy Ellman's brilliant "Ducks, Newburyport" as it is a similar stream of consciousness structure. But this book was apparently written in 1997 and this is a recent translation. As a translation, it is a monumental feat.

I was fascinated by the detail of Natsumi's life in Japan but I could not identify with her as I could with the central character in Ellman's book or sympathise with her very tedious but comfortable middle class life. Her vague musing on whether she should find some kind of work to occupy became deeply irritating and I ended up wanting to give her a good shake.

Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC.

I love Polly Barton and read all her translations so was thrilled to read this. It did not disappoint, I loved how the constant stream of consciousness made it difficult to put down and how insightful and clever it was. Highly recommend.

This book was very much a case of “it’s not the book, it’s me”. I just had a very hard time with the stream of consciousness narrative of this book that I struggled to connect to the story. The book might however be perfect for readers who really enjoy reading stories with a stream of consciousness writing style.

Thank you to Netgalley and Fitzcarraldo Editions for sending me an advanced copy.

Extremely readable for a stream of consciousness novel, we take a dive into the mind of Natsumi and her life as a Tokyo housewife. I thought Natsumi's quotidian experience was brilliantly drawn, and I loved experiencing the mild horror of the tedium of her life - Mild Vertigo is a pitch perfect title for this book.

It was unexpectedly gripping and relatable, and felt surprisingly relevant in 2023 given it was originally written in 1997. In our world of social media celebrity we have never been more exposed to the success and lives of others, and the feeling that we should always be "more", and I felt this book really touched that nerve. I have felt the things that Natsumi feels in this book, wondering "is this it?"

In that respect, I loved the experience of being in Natsumi's head, and the close third person narration is luminously translated by Polly Barton. It reads almost like it was originally written in English.

However, for such a short book it was a very taxing read, and I felt the pacing just didn't quite work for me. In particular, the two pieces of photography criticism felt completely out of place for me, and killed the book dead. I found these parts a struggle to push through, as I just don't have an interest in the subject matter.

Overall a mixed beg for me, but one that I'm glad I've read.

This novel is inside the head of a bored Tokyo housewife. Long, long sentences and paragraphs following her thoughts on all sorts of mundane things. It’s amusing in some parts, boring in others. Interesting look at the role of women in Japanese society and some of the sexism.

Mild Vertigo is an unrestrained exploration of the human condition, and Meiko Kanai's skilful storytelling makes it a captivating read. The book's ability to evoke emotions and provoke thought long after the last page is a testament to its literary merit. A beautifully written and thought-provoking novel, it will resonate with readers who enjoy introspective tales that delve into the complexities of human emotions. Kanai's elegant prose and the captivating portrayal of Natsumi's inner world and it's surprising conflicts with the outer world which she must inhabit and conform to make the book a compelling, rewarding and sometimes troubling reading experience.

Mild Vertigo really reminded me of Ducks, Newburyport, although I enjoyed this one more. It's a breathless, slightly claustrophobic character study of Natsumi, a Japanese housewife living in Tokyo. Although the blurb hints at darkness and a capitalist critique, I liked it because it's about an ordinary woman; you can see the satisfactions and dissatisfactions of Natsumi's life, and it gives a glimpse into middle-class Tokyo life in the 90s. I don't read a lot of translated fiction because the translated fiction that I come upon naturally is often surreal or weird (aka extremely not my taste!) but it's a shame, because I do like reading about ordinary life in other countries, and Mild Vertigo is the perfect example of this.

I started off really enjoying these stream-of-consciousness rambling thoughts of an ordinary Japanese housewife – but only for a while. Matsumi lives with her husband and two children in Tokyo. An ordinary middle-class existence of a woman who looks after her home and family, gossips with neighbours, does the shopping – day after ordinary day. But just sometimes she stops short and something in this ordinary life suddenly seems extraordinary, causing her to feel slightly dizzy – the mild vertigo of the title – but then all settles down and ordinary life goes on. It’s an interesting conceit and one that will resonate with many women in much the same situation. Here we are inside the head of an ordinary housewife and at first it’s an intriguing place to be. But eventually I found it tedious – as much repetition in the narrative as there is in Matsumi’s day-to-day existence - and I began to find it tedious. A meditation and exploration of the mundane and the quotidian that didn’t quite manage to maintain my interest to the end.

Set in modern day Tokyo, it takes the form of an internal monologue from Natsumi, a housewife whose life apparently revolves around the daily minutiae of looking after her husband and two young sons but who comes to question her whole domestic existence. Flashes of black humour and fascinating details of life in Japan makes for a memorable and at times discombobulating novel.

This sounded like something I would love but unfortunately this was not for me. Mild Vertigo follows a Japanese woman narrating and commenting on her day to day unremarkable life. The writing style, alongside the skewed perspectives in this book, did indeed make for a dizzying experience, but not one I enjoyed. I've read many novels written in a sort of stream of consciousness style, but this one felt impossible to grasp, and I just had such a hard time with it. I'm sure many other people would appreciate this style of writing, but in this instance for me it was too dense, and ultimately too dry.

The slow pace of Mild Vertigo could seem like off-putting to some, but I felt it was like watching a spider spinning her little web over and over again until I realised it makes the most stunning, complex picture.