Okay so Hunchback wasn’t really what I was expecting and overall, I found it didn’t leave me with much. I thought the main character was an interesting perspective and found reading about how her disability affects parts of her life that able bodied people wouldn’t even consider - reading books, having sex - effective.

I thought the few pages talking about the ableism within the publishing industry was really powerful and felt strong. Along with the ideas about how disabled people perceive their sexuality.

However, the rest of the book fell flat for me. Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s one I’ll remember.
Though, I have lots of friends who have read this on publication (post International Booker Longlist) and really enjoyed it so I do think that it can be really effective for the right person.

Also, the cover is gorgeous!

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for sending me an e-ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Hunchback by Soau Ichikawa challenges the deeply ingrained notion that disabled people cannot or should not be seen as sexual beings. The story doesn’t shy away from confronting societal discomfort, and while certain parts made me uneasy, it also forced me to reflect on why I felt that way. It’s rare to see a book tackle this subject so directly, and I appreciated the way it pushed boundaries and questioned assumptions.

My only complaint? I wish it had been longer. There was so much more to explore within this story, and I would have loved a deeper dive into the characters and themes.

It’s a 3.5 star read for me.

All the positive points of the book relate to the themes really close to my heart. A life with disability gets changed in many little ways we haven’t talked about yet. So for the book to explore that was an exciting, endearing prospect. But at this length (barely 100 pages) it felt that the plot was just getting executed without ever having been set up. The first thirty pages or so were on track to achieve that - humanising the protagonist and other characters, but the shift towards the trigger in the Second Scene was too abrupt and harsh.

I loved the twists and turns of the protagonist’s mind as well as the turning points within the plot. (The end felt very fitting!) I can see how the themes played well and the book was long-listed for the International Booker Prize.

The story withholds certain details and yet goes overboard with some others (some conversations felt too crass to be real, for instance, and some descriptions too explicit)

But I am learning the inclination that Japanese literature has for simple, straightforward sentences over prose is not my cup of tea.

Hunchback was extremely powerful in parts of- when they take jabs on the privilege in accessing superior care, the publishing industry’s duplicity, and the vanity of readers…all of those are points I would have loved to see explored in detail.

An own voice story about a women with disabilities writing erotic stories online, offered an experience by her male carer.
An unique story & great to hear lived experiences own voices.

Best read in one go, Hunchback is an intelligent and subversive story in conversation with disability literature and ableism.

Ultimately, I came away unsatiated; Hunchback seems to me rather like the title short story of a collection than a fully fleshed novel(la) as advertised. However, I am glad that it was published as such stories are a rarity and it makes an exciting debut for Ichikawa! I am intrigued to see what she writes next.

Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin for the opportunity to read Hunchback in exchange for an honest review.

This book just was not for me, I did continue with it due to the length but I wasn't enjoying it. The one thing I can highlight is the writing - it was visceral and filled with vivid descriptions.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for the chance to read this ARC.

Translated from the Japanese by Polly Barton

At only 112 pages, this novella can be read in a single sitting, but it packs a heck of a punch and you’ll be left thinking about it for days afterwards. I definitely was.

It was honestly the cover that initially made me click on this one - it’s stunning! - and I’m always on the lookout for translated fiction that tickles by pickle and ‘Hunchback’ sounded like nothing I’ve read before.

Born with a congenital muscle disorder, Shaka Isawa has severe spine curvature and uses an electric wheelchair and ventilator. Within the limits of her care home, her life is lived online: she studies, she tweets indignantly, she posts outrageous stories on an erotica website. One day, a new male carer reveals he has read it all – the sex, the provocation, the dirt. Her response? An indecent proposal…

Written by the first disabled author to win Japan’s most prestigious literary award and acclaimed instantly as one of the most important Japanese novels of the twenty-first century, Hunchback is an extraordinary, thrilling glimpse into the desire and darkness of a woman placed at humanity’s edge.

Even though this book has lingered with me, I’m still not quite sure how I felt about it, or even what the author wanted me to feel about it. It’s uncomfortable at a lot of points and it’s really some scenes are quite difficult to read, and that’s very much a deliberate choice.

‘Hunchback’ is written by a woman with the same condition as our main character, Shaka, and it forces the reader to directly confront disability, the people that reside in disabled bodies, and the attitude towards disability, especially in Japan. For the most part, Japanese people who has disabilities are hidden people in society, often reduced to less that human and are shrouded in shame. In the last twenty years, new laws have been introduced in Japan to protect disabled people and try to prevent discrimination, but it’s very much an ongoing mission by activists (who are directly mentioned in the text) to change the way that society at large views disabled people.


Shaka is a very confronting protagonist and from the very first word of her narration, her desires and wants and goals in life are just as complex and human as anyone else’s, and this, I believe, is one of the points that Ichikawa is trying to make. The portrayal of people with serious and life-altering disabilities are usually portrayed in fiction and media as innocent, childlike or pious in some way, but that’s just not the case; disabled people are people who can also have desires both expected and unexpected. From having a sexual encounter, getting pregnant and then having an abortion, to reading a physical book without the legacy of pain afterwards, Shaka begins to lay the foundations for getting what she wants to achieve within the restrictions of her body and her illness. It was incredibly interesting to see the consequences of one of these actions to be something that nearly kills her.

“Here was I, feeling my spine being crushed a little more with every book that I read, while all those ebook-hating ablebodied people who went on and on about how they loved the smell of physical books, or the feel of the turning pages beneath their fingers, persisted in their state of happy oblivion.”
I already mentioned how short this novel is, and I’ve come to recognise that as a standard for translated Japanese literary fiction, but I would really have liked a little more from this. Everything happened so quickly and the action escalated at a wild pace, with us thrown into what felt like the middle of a story that I missed the beginning and end of; I was left wanting after finishing ‘Hunchback’. Especially with the ending scene being so confusing! It’s not very often that I find myself googling the ending of a book to find out what the heck actually just happened and if I was reading it correctly - it turns out that plenty of people felt the same way and there are a plethora of theories out there. It left me slightly frustrated, but with a few days distance from it, I appreciate and respect the choice and it is fun for a story’s ending to be left open to interpretation.

‘Hunchback’ is an incredibly powerful novel and I recommend you read it, even if translated literature isn’t usually something that appeals to you. I knew very little about the treatment of disabled people in Japan until I started reading around after finishing this novel and it’s something I’m definitely going to start seeking out more in my reading.

Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin for the review copy.

An intriguing, seedy little tale that was in the end, unexpected! In such a short space of time the author conveys the way that disabled people are either desexualised completely, or fetishised, & the way that huge parts of the human experience are taken away from them. A story that will stick with me for sure.

a novella (or a short story, really) following shaka, a woman in her 40s who was born with a congenital muscle disorder. shaka lives in a care home outside tokyo and the novel is made up of reflections on her days - the e-learning courses she takes, the anonymous erotica she writes online, and her provocative trolling on twitter. it’s quirky and humorous and i really enjoyed the narrator’s voice, especially her frustrations at the difficulties faced by disabled people on a societal level that are often overlooked. it touches on so much: desire, individuality, gender, reproduction, disability, ableism, the duality of mind/body, power (to name a few). i just wish it was a bit longer so we could really dig into those themes properly, the book felt like it ended just as it was really beginning. but still a kooky little book which deserves its place on the international booker longlist.

I read this book a few weeks ago and it has taken that long to consider how I write this review. It has now been longlisted for International Booker Award 2025, which is very well deserved.

This own voices novella follows Shaka, a women with a congenital muscle disorder living in a care home with limited mobility and requiring a ventilator at times.

Throughout her day Shaka posts her provocative thoughts on social media about what she would do if she were a “normal woman” and earns an income writing erotica for websites.

As Shaka’s story unfolds we have a perspective of how she sees the world. How she is both constrained physically, yet free in her thoughts. As a person with an invisible disability some of these resonated with me deeply.

Covering themes of disability, sexuality and power, with both physical and financial impacts, it is a thought provoking story.

I would check for content warnings from your trusted source before reading this novella. Some of these themes and descriptive language is explicit in places.

Thank you Penguin Random House via NetGalley for an eARC for an honest review.

“The ignorant arrogance of all those self-professed book-lovers so oblivious to their privilege”.

A confrontational and unsettling read - Ichikawa incredibly tackles a profuse number of topics within a short 100 pages. The ableist nature of Japanese society, reproductive rights, able bodied privilege and the exclusionary practices within the book industry. The novella also draws on and pays homage to previous disability activists. Rooted part in surreality and actual real life events, the ending will have you shocked. An incredible debut.

Hunchback is such a breath of fresh air. I almost always enjoy Japanese fiction due to its frank, unadorned style, and this one was no different. It stood out in its unflinching portrayal of a disabled woman's life and sexuality. The sex scenes were truly something to behold - very discomfiting, but then you had to ask yourself - why am I uncomfortable, because of the situation that seems deeply questionable on an emotional and moral level, or do I belong to the swathes of people who de-sexualise disabled people and have biases about disabled sexuality? To be honest, in my case I think I'm just uncomfortable with straight sex in general (I feel the same reading Sally Rooney, and I'm asexual myself), but it's an interesting topic to ponder and self-reflect on.

Hunchback offers a peek into the desires and uninhibited wants of a woman overlooked through the lens of se*uality due to her disability. While it is short, Saou has very cleverly used the book to share social commentary on not only the way disability is perceived in Japan, i.e. it doesn’t exist but to also offer insight into human nature. What is it that we truly want when there are no eyes on us? When society expects nothing from us? And wants nothing to do with us?

This was a read-in-one-setting with a satisfying plot twist. If you’re looking for something short in between longer reads, Hunchback could be the one.

Thank you to Net Galley and the publisher for access to this e-arc.
This review will cover both the e reader edition and the audio from audible as I ended up reading this on publication day. This was a wild ride and not for the feint of heart. It's a strong and impactful story written from the pov of a disabled woman. As someone who has a "invisible" disability I connected with the struggle that I have that are in common, but also had the opportunity to look through a different experience's eyes. If you choose to read this you will go through the full spectrum of emotions and feelings... and come out the other side feeling like you understand humanity better than you did before. I will be thinking about the ramifications of this book for a long time to come. The thought vortex's I got swept up in during include, ways we look for an outlet for our thoughts when we don't have a safe space to share; The ways disability change the way people and society view your abilities, wants and desires. The ways you can be taken advantage of but also the ways you can take advantage of others. What's the difference between being taken advantage of and choosing to sacrifice our rights in order to experience something we are not expected to want. Human desire within a restricted life experience. This was beautifully written and is surprisingly a debut... it did not read like a debut!
I think this will suit readers who look for fiction that makes them think about the world we live in and find value in the proverbial "walking a day in someone else's shoes". and readers that look for fiction that will challenge them.

"Here was I, feeling my spine being crushed a little more with every book that I read, while all those e-bookhating able-bodied people who went on and on about how they loved the smell of physical books, or the feel of the turning pages beneath their fingers, persisted in their state of happy oblivion."

This was an odd book, one that stayed with me and made me think about it long after I had finished it. The premise was what immediately intrigued me but I will say this book is more of a stream of consciousness than an exploration of the plottiness of its premise. The narrator holds you by the scruff of the neck from the first to the final page, making it an unsettling but powerful read. This style of writing is not my preference, as I would have liked more focus on the plot and consequences of actions and sometimes it felt hard to keep up with where it was going. I had questions at the end but I fully acknowledge that this is a stylistic issue based on personal preference.

I'm glad I read it, though I am not entirely sure how I feel regarding some of its content.

An arresting novella that blurs the line between fiction and auto fiction! This is an intense exploration of desire while being differently abled, nominated for the International Booker Prize and so well deserved!

We follow Shaka, a woman born with myotubular myopathy - a disorder that severely impairs her mobility and makes day to day tasks incredibly challenging and means that she lives in a full time care home. Within the four walls of her room, Shaka dreams of things she would do if she were a "normal woman", tweets provocatively, and posts wildly erotic fiction online - anonymously of course. That is until one day, her secret is uncovered but with this exposure comes a salacious idea, can she finally experience all that she has been dreaming of?

This was such a refreshing book. I thoroughly enjoyed the author's narrative style and THE ENDING!!!! I definitely want to read more from this author.

If you're reading this review (check content warnings and be warned that this may make you uncomfortable at times) I couldn't recommend this more!

Thank you to the publishers and NetGalley for providing me with an eARC.

Well done to Ichikawa for the way she gets ger message across: in-your-face so you can't look away. She describes in detail what it means to live with a severe handicap (the main character has myotubular myopathy meaning that underdeveloped muscles prevented heart and lungs from maintaining gooe oxygen saturation), and does not shy away from everything this implies (from something as simple as reading a physical book to the practical difficulties of changing equipment to something as exhausting as sex).

It is a bit extreme and graphic in places and may be a bit too much for some readers. At times I found myself preferring to take a break, but the objective is clear and convincing: more attention is needed for the plight of the disabled. Ichikawa is very critical of Japan, but surely it applies to most countries.

I am in need of an explanation of the ending though...

Longlisted for the 2025 International Booker Prize

It is translated from the Japanese “Hanchibakku” (the author’s debut novel) by Polly Barton.

A novella (short even by the standard of this longlist, with less than 100 generously spaced, large typeface pages) – but one which while it may be very short in length but is long in defiance in its deliberate defiance of ableism in publishing, sexuality and wider society.

It opens provocatively with five pages of quickly dashed off soft-porn – but when we switch to its author (our first person narrator) – our orientation and understanding is immediately challenged when we read “While I’d been concentrating on getting to the end of the article, mucus had built up in my windpipe, and the alarm on my Trilogy ventilator was chirruping furiously”.

The author has said that the book is 30% autobiographical, 70% fictional – the autobiographical part reflecting that she and the book’s first party protagonist Shaka (the Japanese name for Buddha) Izawa both have congenital myotubular myopathy – a genetic disorder causing muscle weakness and leading to difficulties with general mobility, sustaining body posture and breathing (including the clearing of mucus) and which has lead both to have relied on a respirator since they were teenagers.

Shaka we quickly establish lives in a care home which her parents own (she is from a financially privileged background, although that does little to ease her physical inheritance).

As well as her posting of stories to a website – more for something to do than money she does not need – she also enjoys composing (and sometimes after reflection) posting provocative tweets about her condition.

One of these has her speculating on her ultimate dream of getting pregnant “like a normal woman” and then having an abortion given she could not carry a baby (and then ruminating on how abortion law had first lead to a conflict between women’s rights and disabled rights groups, before they came together)

And in terms of the confrontation of ableism, and as well as its clear aim at the disability-discriminatory aspect of Japanese society (frequently contrasted by her with other countries) the character reserves her particular ire (and I believe shares the author’s views) on the (Japanese) publishing industry and at readers complacent in their privilege:

To say too much more about the book would not be appropriate given its length, but when a male carer turns out to be effectively stalking her erotic stories and she-had-assumed-anonymous tweets, he offers to help with her wish which leads to as uncomfortable a scene as I have read in a prize winning and prize listed book.

Uncompromising, unsettling but unforgettable.

Wow this was such an utterly unique story that I was just captivated by. Shaka resides in an assisted living facility due to a debilitating condition. She publishes erotica online & anonymously tweets outrageous shit on a daily basis.

This was so impactful & confronting which is impressive considering it’s just over 100 pages. The author talks about disability & desire and how they are interlinked for this character in the most remarkable way. Yes it’s uncomfortable! But that’s so clearly the point it doesn’t even seem worth saying.

Recommend!!

Hunchback is a short novel featuring Shaka, a Japanese disabled woman in her forties, living in a care home and secretly writing erotic fiction. Shaka has an unusual position in the care home as, due to her rich parents, she actually owns the facility.

The novel is an interesting look at disabled people's place in society, and how others treat their agency and sexuality. I enjoyed it, although it made me quite uncomfortable at times.