'the water was flowing out of the tap, there was nothing remarkable about it - that was the whole thing, there was nothing remarkable about it whatsoever, it was an utterly ordinary thing - and yet for some unknown reason she kept staring at it, and falling, again for some unknown reason, into a kind of trance.'

And that, in a nutshell, is the book. Originally published in Japan in 1997, we now have a stunning English translation from Polly Barton, which more than does justice to Mieko Kanai's extraordinary prose. In a linguistic display of stream of consciousness, and detailing the mundane and ordinary, Kanai captures the reality of Natsumi, a Tokyo housewife with a husband and two sons. Nothing much happens, but the prose is so exact and hypnotic that the reader finds themselves almost entranced by the very nothingness that Natsumi experiences. And that is what makes this such a humane and touching piece of writing, one that captures a life in a series of moments that shine a light on a universal experience.

Dazzling, wonderful, this is a must-read for anyone interested in how important the act of reading is for the human experience. One of my books of the year, without a doubt.

(With thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC of this title.)

Such a rich, yet slim volume, which takes in and brings to vivid life, the personal, social, the cultural, the inner life of Natsumi, a Tokyo housewife living with a husband and two sons.
Her interior monologue gives us the chance to really get to know her, from the banal trips to the supermarket, details of food and fashion to the spiritual impact of her ‘mild vertigo’ to moments when she becomes utterly mesmerised by the light falling on water as it swirls and curls in a stream from her kitchen tap and into the plug; and the complex and highbrow analysis impact of art on society, most notably, photographer Kineo Kuwabara
She creates her piece with little regard for ‘standard’ sentence, dialogue and paragraph forms. This is the for me, the ‘mild vertigo’ which her readers experience as they become mesmerised by her ‘flow’ of words and her nuances of style.
Congratulations to translator, Polly Barton.
Thank you to @NetGalley and @Fitzcarraldo for my ARC copy.

Natsumi is a bored and lonely housewife, observing the small slivers of the world she experiences in Mild Vertigo. It’s a short, quiet novel, written in almost stream of consciousness, particularly in the last few pages where overheard conversations on the train blend into thoughts of supermarket shopping, which I liked. I would have preferred if the storyline of her young sons going to stay with their grandparents leaving Natsumi at a loose end had been more impactful, rather than just fizzling out, but the uneventfulness of it all did fit with the general vibe of the book and of Natsum’s life.

This book is extremely well written and thought out, A meditation on the mundane explored beautifully. However, for me there was a lack of intrigue and progression, so I found it hard to come back to this book.

Thank you to NetGalley and the Publisher for this arc.

This book covers beliefs, values, customs, practices, and institutions of culture that gave me a great insight. The author has provided readers with a deeper understanding of the ways in which people from different cultural backgrounds live, think, and interact with each other. I’ve gained a deeper appreciation for the richness and diversity of human culture. This is a book that can promote understanding, empathy, and a sense of interconnectedness among people from different backgrounds.

The E-Book could be improved and more user-friendly, such as links to the chapters, no significant gaps between words and a cover for the book would be better. It is very document-like instead of a book. A star has been deducted because of this.

This is a first for me by the author and one I enjoyed and I would read more of their work. The book cover is eye-catching and appealing and would spark my interest if in a bookshop. Thank you very much to the author, publisher and Netgalley for this ARC.

This book was first published in Japan in 1997 and is now finally getting its English translation thanks to Firzcarraldo. It follows the daily life of a Tokyo housewife Natsumi in the late nineties.

At first, I was really taken aback by the style. There are hardly any full stops in this book and as it turns out, a lack of full stops makes me a little anxious (you could say I really _experienced_ M/mild V/vertigo).

As the story goes on, however, the constant onslought of the main protagonist´s thoughts becomes natural, reads easier, and helps you see the world through her eyes. I found it wonderful in the end - the way in which the daily little tasks and moments mix with annoyances, petty incidents, and even a special occasion or two. The story really had little to no progression, mirroring the monotony of Natsumi´s experience. And that´s just it - I think you need to _experience_ this book, because reading its decription in a review doesn´t really tell you much.

‘Mild Vertigo’ by Mieko Kanai, is a masterclass in prose. Originally published in Japan in 1997, it has been re-released in the UK through Fitzcarraldo, translated beautifully by Polly Barton. Despite the fact it has been over twenty five years since it’s original publication, this short novel feels as fresh as if it was penned this year. Following the life of Natsumi, a bored housewife to a husband and two sons, this novel is an exploration of the mundane, and a discovery the curious nuances which creep through in day-to-day life. Written as a stream of consciousness, with very little punctuation to help the reader follow Natsumi’s thoughts, this wasn’t the easiest book to read, structurally speaking. However, after a chapter or so, I did find myself settling into the rhythm of text, and appreciating the style in which Kanai had chosen to present her work.
Whilst this book was not plot-driven in the slightest, something which I usually look for in a story, I really enjoyed the cyclical nature of it. I liked the recalls of the supermarket layout, and the shopping lists which featured in the earlier chapters, coming back round again as the book drew to a conclusion. I loved the sense of Deja-Vu which came with the repetitive conversations, the actions which Natsumi does, week in, week out. Whilst there could be a risk of losing the reader through this style, the execution of how Kanai has written does the total opposite. It draws you into Natsumi’s quiet little corner of life and suspends you in it.
This was by no means an easy read, but intensely rewarding. Mild Vertigo was like nothing I had read before, and was a challenge that I was grateful I embarked upon.
Thank you to both Fitzcarraldo Editions and Netgalley for the opportunity.

With a distinct narrative and introspective writing style, Mild Vertigo follows Natsumi, a housewife in Tokyo and her unremarkable life.

Mundane and monotonous, Natsumi does her laundry, does the grocery shopping, takes care of her husband and two sons and gossips with neighbours. Seemingly uninteresting and outwardly conservative, Natsumi holds an inner world of thoughts, feelings and opinions that goes against the options that women have in a capitalist Japanese culture.

Amongst vivid descriptions of objects, locations and the repetitious moments in our lives, hides an inner world haunted by the loss of belonging.

Kanai writes a novel enriched with intellectual prose, and criticism, whilst Polly Barton does a remarkable job translating the novel into English.

At first, I was taken a little aback because of the stream-of-consciousness writing style, which in general I’m not a fan of because it is difficult for me to follow. It helped that Mild Vertigo was from one character’s point of view.

While it took a little time to get used to it, I fell in love with this novel about the everyday life of a housewife whose life revolves around her home, family and memories. The reader is sitting on the shoulder of the main character, Natsumi, witnessing her going about her life, and hearing every single thought that comes into her somewhat bored mind. it might seem mundane, but such is life. The novel felt real and complex, despite its apparent mundanity.

It is not a story in the classical sense of the word, with a beginning, middle and end.

Despite the supposed boredom of Natsumi’s life, the novel is never actually boring. I found the story enjoyable and interesting also because of the differences and similarities in ways of thinking, in cultures and countries between my own and the author’s.

I intend to read the book again, with a different approach. I believe that this is a book that must be read more than once, the first time to get acquainted with it, and the second time to discover all that was missed.

I plan to read it as if every chapter is a short story to see how the novel changes because I have a feeling it can be read that way as well. It’s a little experiment I’m very much looking forward to.

I highly recommend this book. This is a five stars read, and I’m gonna keep an eye on future publications in languages I can read from this author. I hope more of her work is going to be translated.

Mild Vertigo is a book I requested simply because I was going to be visiting Japan – I knew nothing about it (though had heard good things about the publisher, Fitzcarraldo) and decided it might be interesting to read before my trip, and/or during my visit. As it happens, I only started it on the plane back which afforded me a slightly wistful reading experience of reflecting upon the less touristic places and 'ordinary' people going about their lives I had just seen whilst there.

It’s a plotless tale of a bored, unremarkable housewife, told in a stream-of-consciousness fashion as she goes about her life, though perhaps ‘tale’ is stretching it in ascribing a narrative quality that isn’t really there. I read it easily and quickly enough, but I’m not sure it will stay with me as whilst reading it, I felt like I was struggling to find a handhold amidst the various (seemingly unrelated) anecdotes and chapters. I have no disagreement that the book appears to be skilfully written and translated but the overall effect was a slightly ephemeral, elusive one. Not sure I can comment much more than that!

With thanks to Net Galley for an ARC in exchange for an unbiased review.

I’m afraid I admired this book more than I liked it. The stream of consciousness style is excellent and as a reader you really get inside the head of a housewife, but in the end it didn’t really grab me. I’m sure others will love it though.
Thank you Fitzcarraldo and Netgalley for the ARC.

Very well-written and the author has done a fantastic job. Long sentences of multiple pages flow smoothly, allowing - just as in real life - for thoughts to come and go, for memories to surface and disappear before returning to the original train of thought.

That being said, it was admiration more than emotion I felt. I was really involved and even felt uncomfortable being in the head of a person mulling the most mundane things over and over... It also did not feel particularly innovative, but I see this was written 25 years ago, so back then it may have been very refreshing. I have also been in the mood for more outward-looking themes or content-based novels for some months now.

Anyway, surely this will appeal to many.

Many thanks to Fitzcarraldo for an ARC via Netgalley!

This book's style was interesting and immersive with long, meandering sentences which were quite different to what I usually see in Japanese books. I thought it explored themes that are still as relevant now as they were when this book was written over 20 years ago (this book is only one year younger than me!)

Mieko Kanai’s Mild Vertigo (translated by Polly Barton) flows in a stream of consciousness exploring domesticity, a woman/wife/mother/homemaker, the contours of her existence, her interactions, ruminations, conversations, observations, the surrealism that runs through lived reality and mundanity.

It is a crashing kaleidoscope of the way our unspoken reveries and spoken words move, new thoughts arising before the old ones are complete, shifting topics, digressing in to tangents, concentric and intersecting circles of reflections and ideas. Kanai’s words (through Barton’s translation) move in waves and ripples, at times languidly carrying the reader forward in a relaxed thrum, at times gripping the reader in a rapid cascade. They demand the reader’s attention, not always easily given, what with sentences that run for pages and paragraphs that amount to chapters (and an essay on photography art that while linking to the narrative, definitely also took me out of it). Best consumed in a gulp- allowing yourself to hurdle down the cresting wave of words, like a surfer speeding through a tall wave.

“This is what people mean when they say déjà vu, that’s what happens when you become an adult, especially a housewife, you have this feeling of déjà vu that leaves you nauseous and dizzy”⁣
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“Although what’s wrong with being boring, that I don’t know. The thing about being boring, having a boring life, is that you should do it while you still can, if you don’t have time to be bored, you’ll be exhausted.”⁣
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From: 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘰 by Mieko Kanai (translated by Polly Barton)⁣
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First of all, this is a challenging read, but don’t let that stop you. The story is written from the third-person perspective of Natsumi, a housewife living with her husband and two sons in Tokyo, but it mostly contains her inner monologues and even a trance-like state of staring at water running from a tap and the recollection of the exact layout of the supermarket that she shops in almost every day. ⁣
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If this sounds boring, I feel like that is kind of the point. This book beautifully captures the daily life of a woman that is sometimes confronted with the boringness of her life. She contemplates getting a job and compares her life to friends and colleagues and neighbors through seemingly unrelated social exchanges. But when it really comes down to it, she seems quite content with her life in all its social conformity. ⁣
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I also loved so many of her hugely relatable, super detailed, and often quite funny descriptions of daily experiences, for example the shame you can feel towards your neighbors about the noise the children are making, without even knowing if the neighbors are bothered by it; or the weight doting grandparents try to give to budding talents in their grandchildren; or the meditations on what would be appropriate to wear to certain functions. ⁣
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It all feels so ordinary, but written in a rythmical rush of words that kept my attention till the end.

Many thanks to Netgalley for this ARC ahead of official publication on the 21st June 23 (although it is to be considered that the original Japanese text was published in 1997)

Mild Vertigo is written in a compulsively readable stream of consciousness, a character driven plot which focuses on Natsumi and her thoughts on motherhood, marriage, and domestic captivity. In Mild Vertigo the reader feels as though we have an insight into Natsumi's true thoughts on the Deja vu and repetitive nature of her everyday life. During a period of time where her children go to visit family and her husband has a business trip Natsumi is able to sleep until 4pm, take long baths and eat cobbled together meals, she reflects on journey of her life up until this point.

Had high expectations of the book` after hearing and reading friends who had received review copies rave about it, but ultimately I found it rather disappointing. Not in the sense that this was a badly written book, on the contrary it was actually quite well written. Even the translation work seemed absolutely flawless. Polly Barton's one of my favourites, so I wasn't surprised about the fantastic translation work. However, the style and tone of writing did not suit a reader like me. I can understand that a different reader might appreciate the book better. But ultimately, I am very glad to have given the chance to read a book such as this particular one by Kanai's because all the things mentioned in her book are matters worth discussing - matters that were important then (in the 90s), and still very relevant today. On the surface it just seems like an ordinary housewife complaining about her circumstances, but when you take a step back and think about it - this is a massive and persisting problem that affect millions of women in the world. It's been almost 30 years since the book was written. What has changed, significantly?

"Do you ever find when you're in the middle of doing something that you zone out and suddenly find yourself becoming a bit dizzy"

Unfortunately this echoed my experience reading this book. Whilst the book sets out to portray the mundane life of housewife Natsumi, it became so mundane at times that I found it hard to concentrate. The REALLY long sentences used made it even harder to focus (I'm not sure whether these long sentences were in the original writing to emphasise the mundanity or whether it was the translation). I think I would have appreciated the book a lot more if I had maybe read it at another time, and not just coming out of a reading slump, as the book requires quite a bit of concentration.

Whilst I enjoyed the writing and translation at first, and at times throughout the book, I found the translation sometimes took on quite a distinct British voice which was slightly disappointing and distracting regarding the translation.

Mild Vertigo
by Mieko Kanai
Translated from the Japanese by Polly Barton

I have been meaning to read something by this author for quite a while, so when I got the opportunity to review her latest work I was excited. I knew going in that her writing has a rambling, tangential quality where sentences can run to several pages. That worried me a little, but forewarned is forearmed.

This is a collection of eight short stories which Mieko Kanai says were previously published in different journals in order to be collected as a novel. It was fun to find the connections and small details between them, but the main protagonist is the same throughout, Natsumi.

It took me a few beats to become accustomed to the narrative which is made up of a blend of stream of consciousness self-talk, reported dialogue and seemingly inconsequential details. The density of the prose requires the reader to slow down and smell the coffee. There's a circular structure to most of the stories which reminds me of the 1970s Ronnie Corbett style meandering monologues that used to crack my parents up. The punchline was a triumph of narrative assembly, and that is what also makes this collection so masterful.

I love how each story brought me from side-eyeing the details of Japanese real estate, supermarket aisle layout, housework routines, Japanese event protocols, birds, stray cats, to full emersion in Japanese life as we live in Natsumi's head while she navigates Tokyo transport, parks, food, friends, neighbours, marriage and children, menopause and patriarchy. It's always such a joy to become familiar, even somewhat intimate with an entirely different culture, and especially when you realise that the woes and annoyances of a woman, particularly a housewife is essentially the same the world over.

I love Natsumi. I already feel a bit of grief over leaving her behind. I really need to delve into this author's backlist, because that's how I cured my hangover from "Olive Kitteridge" and that might be the last time a character had such a profound impact on me.

Needless to say, highly recommend.

Publication date: 21st June 2023
With thanks to #netgalley and #fitzcarraldoeditions for the ARC

"Even on hearing that, though, her husband simply made a disinterested mmm noise, and started to read the sports section of the paper, and so although she hadn’t really expected a huge reaction from him, she said, you could at least show a little interest when I’m gossiping about the neighbours."

Mild Vertigo is Polly Barton's translation of Mieko Kanai's 1997 original - that a novel from over 25 years ago from Japan feels highly relevant for today's UK is both a testimony to the power of the work, but also shows how little progress we've made in society.

The novel is told from the third-person perspective, but in the style of an interior monologue, of Natsumi, a Tokyo housewife and mother of two young boys. The vertigo of the title comes from the "flat, monotonous life of the housewife–with all its set routines and its absence of change that somehow took an overwhelming toll on the spirit– [and which] really did deprive her of any kind of emotional space", including a trance like state she enters at the novel's opening and close when watching a rope of water running from a tap.

The prose, brilliantly conveyed in Barton's English translation, consists of labyrithine looping sentences, sometime intense at other digressionary (sentences that sometimes the reader needs to revisit to unwind the clauses), with set pieces such as her detailed recall of the layout of the supermarket she visits week after week (she is struck hard at one point where she finds an old shopping list to realise that it is also identical to this week's list).

An earlier overview of the author's work, and this novel in particular, in The Paris Review explained that: "Sections of the novel first appeared as monthly instalments in a glossy magazine about bourgeois homemaking; also included are two reviews of photography exhibitions. Kanai says that these previously published articles and reviews, which appeared in different journals, were written in order to be collected as a novel."

The reviews of the photography exhibitions, by Kuwabara Kineo were for me perhaps a slight misfire to the novel, in that they felt artificially inserted into the prose - the premise being that they are article by an author (Kanai herself) which Natsumi reads at a friends recommendation. The style of the pieces are themselves distinctive and there is a thematic link to Kanai's view of what the photographer achieves with what she wants to do with her work - but that feels like the author overly spelling things out.

4 stars and recommended