Thank you Grove Atlantic & NetGalley for the ARC!

Vanishing World, like Earthlings, questions what it means to be “normal”. In a world where sex, love, and family have become arbitrary, what fills that void for us? Do we repress, or evolve? Murata’s writing is heavy on the internal dialogue of her characters, but still manages to move the plot along in a way that feels succinct. If you enjoyed Earthlings and Life Ceremony, I’d recommend!

This was, although definitely weird and unsettling, a solid 4 star read…. Until the end. Truly. Wtf. I loved Convenience Store Woman but that was like a 2 on the scale of weirdness where this was like a 9. The weird was tolerable until the end. The writing was good and the story was super interesting and unique so it’s a bummer i only ended up giving it 2.5 stars but i could not get over the ending scene!?

** spoiler alert ** Welp, this is a weird one.

The book often felt to me like a long-form Literotica work that reimagines the sex rules in society.

Men and women in the novel's world enter into platonic marriages where they live together and procreate via artificial insemination but never engage in any sort of intimacy. Having "copulation" between husband and wife is considered repulsive and described as incest. Both partners are encouraged, however, to take "lovers" - both imaginary, like anime characters, and real people.

There isn't much sex in those relationships either - they are more about spending time together and "dating." Those who still engage in good old copulation, like Amane, the main character, are often questioned and judged.

Even given a particular style of Japanese prose and the fact that this is a translation, so the language can be a bit stiff at times, the English version not quite living up to the original intent, I imagine, this is a very, very strange read.

It becomes horror-like in its intensity in the last pages. The author's choice of words, as characters are described as if an alien was looking at them, not knowing any words for the common human anatomy; the identical faces and expressions of children and helpers, Amane's slow path from fear and suspicion of the new order to the complete embrace of it - it was all a bit creepy. Not to mention her mother making noise in the empty apartment next door.

Her hate for her mother was really disturbing to me as well. I get that it's part of the idea of the fight between the traditional family structure and the new "we are all Mother" world, but it still chilled me.

Perhaps the most unsettling part was the vague sexualization of children. From fitting the girls with a contraception device as soon as they get their period and Amane's relationship with a teacher to the final scene between Amane and the unnamed child or teenager, during which she compares his "pistil-like pale protuberance" to a "short, fat umbilical cord" that connects then during the encounter. That is not something you can un-read easily.

Thank you, NetGalley and Grove Atlantic, for sharing an advanced reader's copy in exchange for my honest review. The book is out on April 15.

Normal is the most terrifying madness in the world.

I love Sayaka Murata’s books, because she’s always questioning what it means to be normal. In Vanishing World, the old methods of having a family, falling in love, and even having sex have all evolved into some new, something more refined. And anyone stuck in the past is viewed as backwards. But who decides what’s normal and what’s abnormal? How much of yourself are you willing to change to fit into societal norms? And how long can you withstand the pressures to conform?

While reading this, I kept think of the old Twilight Zone episode “Eye of the Beholder”- only instead of beauty being subjective, it’s normality. Honestly, this whole book was like if a Twilight Zone episode left you unsettled and depressed. This book will be stuck in my head for a long time.

Vanishing World is one of the most thought provoking books I’ve read all year. While the ending was quite disconcerting (I’ve heard that’s Murata’s style), the book brings up many topics and questions that I simply cannot stop thinking about. Her writing is beautiful, with even the most mundane thoughts feeling as if every word were painstakingly chosen. If you’ve read and enjoyed Under the Eye of the Big Bird by Hiromi Kawakami, I think you’d enjoy Vanishing World.

Thank you to Sayaka Murata, Grove Atlantic and NetGalley for providing me with this ARC!

This was my first book by Sayaka Murata and honestly I didn’t know what to expect but anything I did was completely and utterly tame! By far the most unique book I think I’ve ever read and I can’t quite decide whether I enjoyed it or not because I was incredibly uncomfortable 99.9% of the time (but I think that was the point?). I thought the character development was so clever that I didn’t even realise it was happening until the last page.

The ending though….baffled me and was honestly quite grim. Part of me was expecting it all to be some sort of dream and Amane had gone mad! I think I stared into space for a good 10 minutes after finishing wondering what just happened because I was CONFUSION.

Some of the descriptions used throughout were gross and ruined it for me a bit. I get that Amane was living in a world where sexual education was non existent but some of the descriptions of *ahem* parts….were gross and it was difficult to read at times because I was too busy cringing.

All in all, if you’re after a wacky and incredibly uncomfortable time, I’d recommend this one! I thought it was really funny in parts and was definitely a unique e concept. But I’m not sure I can give it more than 3* purely because it was a bit too unhinged for me.

Big thanks to Grove Atlantic and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Vanishing World by Sayaka Murata (Translated by Ginny Tapley Takemori). I was so excited to find this book. I’ve read Convenience Store Woman a few times, recommending it for a book club, and I’ve found these subsequent readings and discussions about Keiko’s experience working part-time in a convenience store to be both hilarious and enlightening about the scrutinization of women’s choices and options for life and careers in Japan. Although the book is thoroughly Japanese, I think there is much that is relevant to American culture as well. A few years ago, I read Earthlings. While not as funny as Convenience Store Woman, I found the book to be both shocking and revelatory, as it serves also as a kind of commentary and criticism of how women are viewed in Japan. Whereas Keiko is a character whose choices and life challenges the more dominant social expectations for women, Natsuki’s life and experiences challenge taboos about the treatment of women. I wasn’t laughing as much, but I think the book also served as a kind of allegory to challenge how women are viewed and treated in Japanese society. Vanishing World falls somewhere in between these two books; it was humorous and somewhat absurd, as both a satire of Japanese concerns about the population decreasing and an allegory of attempts to manage the population.
The book follows Amane, whose name means the sound of rain, in Japanese. Her connection to water is mentioned a few times in relation to other characters, as well as bodily functions. I wondered whether it was also related to the necessity of water for life. In any event, Amane grows up in an alternative version of Japan, where during World War II, advancements in technology allow for artificial insemination and there is no longer a need for copulation. Thus, sex serves no real purpose in this society where women, and eventually men in a later Experiment City, are able to breed at the same time. Amane finds out, though, that she was conceived through copulation and not artificial insemination like most other children her age. Amane’s mother tries to instill the older values of romantic love, marriage and sex into her, but Amane seeks to be “normal”, or at least what is considered socially acceptable in this alternative Japan. The first section of the book was pretty funny, as we find out that marriage happens, but marriage is not about love, but more about growing a “family”, and the definition of family is not as most people would define it. In one incident, Amane, recently married, flees her husband’s sexual advances and claims that he was assaulting her. She refers to his attempts to copulate as incest, since he has become part of her family. In other conversations with her friends, they frequently express the desire to marry people of the same sex, saying how great it would be to share an apartment and bank account with someone like Amane. Conversely, they express skepticism about living with a stranger and expecting strangers to share in responsibilities and finances. In this society, marriages are more like arranged partnerships, where spouses are expected to have extramarital partners who satisfy their other needs. Amane eventually divorces her first husband and finds a new husband with whom she can share interests and other events in her life, along with sharing the details of her lovers. This was another humorous and hyperbolic element of the story. Both Amane and her husband, Saku, go out on dates and are often surprised to find one another at home. Both ask about their lovers, wondering why they aren’t seeing them and how things are going. Saku, in particular, struggles with falling in love with every woman he dates, but seems to treat Amane as something like a pet. This was another interesting element as many of the supposedly romantic interactions between characters are described like petting an animal. Amane does meet a neighbor who shares the love of reading with her, and they eventually become lovers. She teaches him how to copulate (something she’s done with other men), but due to the mandatory birth control implants, neither is capable of reproducing. Although Amane derives pleasure from her relationship, the man also struggles with his feelings. Ginny Tapley Takemori, the translator of the book, does an admirable job rendering his explanation as both strange and endearing. However, it is Amane’s other lovers, the anime characters she keeps in a purse, that provide her with additional companionship and feelings of infatuation. We learn about them in the early part of the book, but they always remain with her and seem to emerge when she feels lonely and is not with her husband. I loved the descriptions of these characters, who all seem like they were from different children’s programs, but for Amane, they are real companions. It seemed like this was a kind of criticism of the attachment that some adults may feel in fan culture, where they believe these characters or even real people are for them and that they have relationships with them. It seemed highly critical of that kind of online belief and connection that people experience, willing to forgo real human relationships for those that are safer but less fulfilling or realistic. While Krom, a policeman from the future who travels through time, is Amane’s go-to lover, here are some of the other descriptions that I found hilariously absurd
“the seven-thousand-year-old immortal boy warrior, the boy detective who received secret orders from the police, the UFO pilot, the newborn android who couldn’t control his own strength, the prince who rode a dragon into battle”
She keeps these 40 or so characters in her purse and attaches them to a key chain when she wants to “go on a date” with them. I can see how Murata is critical of this kind of fan culture, and it made me think of other examples in America, like with incels and other groups who largely live life online, but don’t really interact with others IRL. They take comfort in these kind of safe and predictable relationships, but really don’t progress or have opportunities to grow and develop. They live in a kind of fantasy world.
Amane and her husband eventually move to Experiment City, formerly known as Chiba. This city is a kind of community where women are inseminated at the same time and the births are planned to happen around the same time as well. Amane and her husband needed to divorce in order to move their together, since married couples are not allowed. This last part of the book is both more science fiction like- somewhat dystopian- and darker. The children, called Kodomo-chan, all look alike, and it is unclear whether they are boys or girls. They all wear the same clothes, have the same hairstyles, and even seem to grimace rather than smile in the same manner. People also treat them like animals or pets, feeding them in the park and playing with them in public spaces when they are allowed out. Amane doesn’t seem as interested as her husband, who eventually decides to try out an experiment with a male womb to eventually give birth. Amane’s own questions about her womb are some of the more interesting parts of the book. Like her conversations with her friends about the role of a spouse, whether this person is a stranger who shares highly personal information and knowledge or a family member, challenges readers’ conceptions of marriage and partnerships, Amane also questions the intentions of Experiment City and what allowing men to give birth will mean for her own purpose and role within her marriage. She seems to question whether her womb belongs to her, her husband, or even the society. In Experiment City, it’s clear that her body is no longer her own, but rather is part of the community and its attempts to regrow the population. Reading these questions and the kind of strange society that Experiment City created made me think about the more recent pushes America to promote natalism and encourage large families with lots of children. There’s been much handwringing about America’s population decline, and although it is not as steep as Japan’s, natalists are pushing forth the need to repopulate America. Beyond the strange desire to regulate people’s choices for families and sex, deeming it solely for reproduction, Amane’s experiences and questions about her body resonated with me with all that is happening in America today. I hadn’t thought too much about the consequences of this kind of thinking, but when we look at Experiment City, all the children are taken from their families to be raised in community centers. All adults are referred to as “mother”, and the children, the Kodomo-chans, all look the same. Some die early in the nursery, only to be have more brought out to replace them. Thus we see that families and children become more like tools or accessories; Amane’s husband frequently talks about his own child, and while they make a plan to steal their children from Experiment City to raise it on their own, her never follows through. The parts where Saku details his pregnancy and has Amane look at his baby moving in his womb are also pretty funny. Since his womb is much different from a woman’s (it’s like attached to his stomach and hangs over), he requires special large clothing to wear. Again, these scenarios and descriptions are biting and satirical, but also relevant to current issues in Japan and the US.
I won’t get into the ending in this review so as not to spoil it for any readers, but I will say that it is somewhat of an absurdist ending, more akin to Earthlings in that it is shocking and meant to challenge taboos. However, I also think that Murata continues to push these ideas and standards to their logical conclusions. In this new world, our old ideas of love, companionship and family are Vanishing, only to be replaced by technology, innovation, and efficiency. We no longer have to worry about messy emotions or interactions. These can be taken care of outside the marriage or in the “Clean Room”, a place for people to pleasure themselves outside of the home. Even here, we see that pleasure and enjoyment is separate from personal relationships, where family belongs more to the community or state, and reproduction is done with the larger community in mind, not for anything personal. In fact, clean rooms, which suggest that there is some kind of shame or need to hide these pleasurable acts present the idea that pleasure is simply selfish and not to be shared or enjoyed with others. As Amane mentions, she appreciates the clean rooms as a way to not dirty the sanctity of her own apartment. Yet by giving way to efficiency, convenience and ease, we also lose our connections, our sense of love becomes distorted, and eventually, as Murata writes, our sexuality adapts and changes to meet the times. While we often see changes in patterns as a result of evolution, the changes that happen in Experiment City are more socially prescribed. Those like Amane who begin to question these new ways of connection, reproduction, and love are looked at differently and ultimately left alone. It’s no wonder she also takes solace in her 40 anime lovers she keeps in her Prada bag.
Vanishing World is a really important book to read. While it is not as funny as Convenience Store Woman, I feel like the criticisms and issues it raises are even more urgent and far-reaching than Murata’s other books. I can see so much relevance in this book as more pro-natalist forces look to impose their ideas about birthrates and incentivizing children in America. While it seems like Murata’s story serves as a kind of allegory and satire on the current concerns of declining birthrates in Japan, there are important messages to take away, especially as Murata ingeniously follows the implications of increasing births to their logical (or maybe illogical) ends. We find that women and men no longer will hold sovereignty over their bodies, that sex is divorced from any kind of love or companionship, and that as technology and efficiency increase, there is no longer a need for intimacy. Rather, entertainment will create diversions for us, substituting our personal relationships with those that are safe and predictable. Furthermore, children and families will now be state property, since increasing births and growing families are not individual decisions made by couples, but are for the greater good of society. There is no individuality, only clearly defined roles and scripts. In this way, Murata’s book follows books like Brave New World, where we see what we give up for efficiency and technological advances. While I thoroughly enjoyed this book and will probably revisit it, the only criticism I have is that there were some awkward transitions between action in the book. During some sections, Amane would be at home with her husband, and suddenly, she might show up at a café with her friends. There were a few points where the action transitioned from one setting to another without any clear transitions or breaks. I found that a little hard to follow, and I wish there were some clearer indications of the changing scene or setting; however, this was only a minor issue with an important and biting social criticism. Highly recommended.

Sayaka Murata owns ✨prime real estate✨ in my brain, and Earthlings will forever have a ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ penthouse suite. That book? UNHINGED. Unforgettable. Living rent-free in my mind forever.

Naturally I ran to Vanishing World… but…. Maybe it was the ARC formatting, maybe it was me, but I struggled with this one. The weirdness was there (Murata never misses on that front 🤘), but it just didn’t hit the same. I think I’ll retry again when the book comes out 🗓️April 15th 2025🗓️ with @groveatlantic

Regardless, I will show up for her bizarre, unsettling feminist scifi worlds—because Earthlings proved she’s capable of absolute 🌀chaos perfection🌀.

I don’t usually connect with Japanese fiction—it often feels a bit distant to me—but Vanishing World totally pulled me in. Sayaka Murata’s bizarre, offbeat universe is strangely addictive, and while some parts had me going “Wait, what?”, I couldn’t stop reading. The translation was a little clunky here and there—some dialogue felt stiff—but honestly, it still worked. It got the weirdness across, which is what really matters. Overall, it’s surreal, unsettling, and oddly fun. Not what I expected, and I kind of loved that.

Sayaka Murata is one of very few authors I want to read anything from, no matter the genre! Usually I just read horror, but from Murata I will read anything… Vanishing World was yet another amazing novel!

Here's my full review in norwegian:
Sayaka Murata er en av få forfattere som jeg må lese ALT av, uavhengig av sjanger hun skriver i! Derfor har jeg gleda meg lenge til å få lest hennes nyeste roman, 𝘝𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, og ble veldig glad når jeg fikk tilgang til denne via NetGalley.

I 𝘝𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 får vi høre om et fremtidig Japan der sex blandt mennesker så og si har dødt ut. All graviditet blir gjennomført via kunstig inseminasjon, og seksuell omgang mellom giftede par blir ansett som incest, ettersom at det er sex mellom familiemedlemer… en bissarr og skremmende fremtid altså.

Murata har igjen skrevet en fantastisk roman om utenforskap, annerledeshet og samfunnets forventninger til kvinner i det japanske samfunnet. Denne gangen satt i en steril og skremmende fremtid, der kjærligheten er døende og blir satt på prøve.

Mye av boken fortelles gjennom dialoger, noe som gjør boken engasjerende og lettlest. Derimot blir det litt vel repetitivt, og det tok litt lang tid før det skjedde noe nytt og spennende før siste tredjedel av handlingen.

Jeg elsker Sayaka Murata, og er litt trist for at jeg igjen må vente på mer! Har du ikke lest noe av Murata, er det bare å sette igang altså. Og er du ute etter skrekklitteratur fra Murata, er 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 (eller 𝘑𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘣𝘰𝘦𝘳𝘦 som boken heter på norsk) boka for deg! 𝘝𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 får av meg TERNINGKAST 5!

Sayaka Murata has done it again. Vanishing World is a quietly unsettling and deeply thought-provoking exploration of life, identity, and societal expectations. As with her previous works, Murata has this incredible ability to blend the strange with the ordinary, and the result is a book that lingers with you long after you’ve finished it.

The story follows [insert protagonist’s name if you want], who finds themselves navigating a world that feels increasingly disconnected from what they once understood. It’s not a plot-heavy book, but rather an exploration of mood and perspective, allowing us to see the world through the eyes of someone who is just… out of step with it. Murata’s prose is sharp and subtle, and she captures the feeling of alienation in such an honest way that it’s almost uncomfortable.

What I really appreciated about Vanishing World is how it examines the tension between individual desires and societal pressure in a way that feels so relevant and relatable. Murata doesn’t hold back when it comes to addressing uncomfortable truths about the roles we’re expected to play in life. The protagonist’s struggle to find a sense of belonging is something that will resonate with anyone who’s ever felt like they don’t quite fit in.

The pacing is slow, but it’s deliberate, and the quiet unease that builds is worth every moment. This book isn’t for everyone—if you’re looking for fast-paced action or clear-cut resolutions, this isn’t it—but if you love books that dig into the complexities of human nature and the strangeness of the world around us, Vanishing World is a must-read.

Saying that I am obsessed with Sayaka Murata's work would be an understatement. Shocking absolutely nobody, I loved this book as well. The questions posed in this short novel are big and require you to question your self and your own life. The world and the characters are vivid and strange, and the plot is compelling. Through each of the three parts, the reader is left uncomfortable and challenged, in a way that Sayaka Murata does best. I cannot wait for more from this author, and I absolutely cannot wait to get our physical copies in at my branch!

Every Sayaka Murata book I’ve read has left me with a mix of wtf, omg and wow.

"These days, you don't have to fall in love with someone in order to breed," Juri went on calmly, "so all sorts of anime characters have been created for our sexual gratification. They're just consumables to help us process our desire.”

In Vanishing world sex has become obsolete, it’s even considered dirty. Husbands and wives are considered family and therefore sex between them is seen as incest.
Children are only created through artificial insemination and there is research ongoing where males can carry children as well.

Divided into three parts, this little book of only 240 pages raises some big questions and provokes the life we know, the way only Murata can. She possesses a vivid and complex imagination that builds worlds so effortlessly and it’s always very weird.
What I like most about her stories is how she forces the reader outside of the box and it’s always very uncomfortable there.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this arc

3 stars

Having read several of Murata's books, I suspected I was in for something unique, memorable, bizarre, and unsettling, and those suspicions were quickly confirmed by this newest novel. For me, in some ways, this is the oddest one yet. Full disclosure, that's largely because I read most of this on flights and have no question that at least two fellow passengers were reading snippets of truly unusual material from the giant print on my e-reader. I'll be eternally laughing about that (and will also probably always associate those looks of horror with this book and love it more as a result).

Amane displays some unusual proclivities and behaviors even as a relatively young child, and her relationships with others and herself only become more unconventional as she continues to grow into an almost 40-year-old individual by the novel's end. Her society has strong guidelines for what is and is not acceptable in and out of marriage, in physical relationships, and in family bonds, and having come from an untraditional model herself (relatively), she has strong desires to continue bucking the standards. She...does that.

This is a provocative read that will be of interest to a specific readership and not to the masses. While this isn't my favorite of Murata's, I can't deny that it's making me think a lot and that I continue to appreciate the questions they pose and the ways in which they force readers to assess humanity and value. I am always looking forward to how Murata will mess with my mind next.

Vanishing World reimagines fertility practices such that "naturally conceived" children are in the minority. Instead of human crushes, it's now common for teenagers to develop romantic feelings for fictional cartoon characters. There is a clear distinction between lover and life partner.

Though it did feel like a slow-rolling start, I did appreciate the conceptual creativity that Murata brings into play in Vanishing World. Like a lot of foreign language books, I couldn't help but feel that something was being lost in translation. Not sure if it's related to the writing, or dissimilar cultural conventions, but there were moments that felt incredibly dry and halting.

I would add that the final section of the book becomes much more intriguing and perhaps scratches that speculative fiction/dystopia itch for readers who are looking for that specifically!

Linked review below but summarily:
Found the story as stylistically enjoyable as her others, but the narration was extremely repetitive and the moral theme was inconsistent and never followed through in the conclusion.

When you read a book from Sayaka Murata, you would definitely read something that defies the conventional societal norms; and this book did just exactly that. Murata examines and explores the convention of a family, the institution of marriage, gender norms, and she even confronts what normalcy is. In a world where sex is obsolete and humans reproduce through artificial insemination, Murata asks the question; what is the most ideal instance to raise a child? Is it through a family with lack of romantic love, is it through no family at all, or does it take a literal village?

I really enjoyed this book. It did get a bit repetitive, but I didn't mind it at all. I'm just hesitant in giving it a full 5-star because of the ending (kodomo-chan iykyk). I guess in a sense, it packs a punch like with what Earthling did at the end. But, for this book, I didn't feel like it has a purpose aside from being a shock factor. Maybe its deeper meaning will hit me some day, but after 2 weeks of finishing the book I still didn't get it. Still, a great book!

Thanks Grove Atlantic (the publisher) and Net Galley for the e-advance reader copy!

A very reluctant 2.5 stars.

Sayaka Murata is one of my favourite authors, and so I was elated to receive an ARC of this latest translation of her work and expected to love this to bits. However, I finished this read feeling lukewarm.

Most of the world is still shackled by the nuclear family ideal, and for the majority of humanity, happy and healthy families consist of a pair of parents and their children. However, in a capitalistic and increasingly individualistic world rife with sexism, homophobia, judgement towards child-free adults, and political turmoil, this ideal is breaking down.

Now, in theory, I should love this novel as it endeavours to explore this exact crisis in the most unhinged way possible. I felt though, like the story tried to do too much and thus no one point was properly explored or made. As expected of this author, the ending is shocking and disturbing. This usually works for me as the protagonist is pushed to the brink in their struggles conforming to society and readers are no longer certain of right versus wrong, up versus down. However, in combination with the conflicting messages and overall messiness of the story, the ending felt disturbing entirely for shock factor alone.

It is important to note however, that this was actually written prior to Convenience Store Woman and Earthlings. This is perhaps why those felt significantly more polished than this one.

Thank you to the author, Grove Press, and NetGalley for the eARC. I leave this review voluntarily.

This was one of my most anticipated books of the year, and unfortunately, also one of my biggest let-downs of the year so far. I loved <i>Convenience Store Woman</i>, and couldn't stop thinking about <i>Earthlings</i> long after I finished it. Sayaka Murata writes weird, uncomfortable books, which often cover taboos, and do so in interesting ways. Sometimes her work is shocking (looking at you <i>Earthlings</i>), but the two books I've previously read from her also featured fascinating character work, and the narration was so compelling.

<I>Vanishing World</i> was conceptually fascinating, but in execution, it fell a bit flat for me. Our main character Amane wasn't as well-developed as I would have hoped, and her narration and POV felt a bit lacking. The depictions of societal understandings of sex, reproduction, and taboo were interesting to start, but as the book continued, it felt less thoughtfully explored, and more done so in a way to shock and surprise. I was very weirded out by the last fifth of the book, and not in a "oh, this was cool AND weird" way, more like it turned my stomach, and I felt uncomfortable, and weirded out.

Perhaps some readers will enjoy this, it just very much was not for me, unfortunately.

I received an advanced reading copy of this book, from the publisher, through Netgalley.

I have to preface this review by saying the ending of this book made me wildly uncomfortable. There is a lot of shocking content in Muratas novels, mostly cannibalism. I'm not entirely sure what to call what happens at the end, given so much is flipped on it's head, but I feel like it's probably pedofilia and rape and I am just warning you right now that it kind of occurs, the lines are very blurred by the way the world is set up so I'm confused and uncomfortable! Thank you Sayaka!

Vanishing world follows amane in a distopian future, during world war two artificial insemination became the norm over intercourse to have children & since then things have spiralled. Husband and wife do not have intercourse, infact marital intercourse is considered rape and incest. Think of "family" in this novel moreso like siblings and whatnot, there's nothing sexual between a husband and wife, they're only two people who live together for convenience and the purpose of having a child via insemination. Couples may have relationships with partners, but romance is dying out.

Sex is taboo, and many are repulsed and disgusted by the concept of it, many do not know what it is at all. The main character often has intercourse with her romantic partners, but the partners often don't really enjoy it so they break up over it.

The main crux of the book is the experiment city, in which everyone who lives there is a mother to all the children. The children are all referred to just as "child" and the adults are all referred to as "mother". People are selected for insemination every December, with some reccuring religious commentary about Adam and Eve with conception, and people give birth around August to September. Nobody gets to keep their child, everyone is a mother regardless and the child is everyone's child and is raised as a large community.

Before I tell you about what happens in the ending, which is a spoiler so don't read the paragraph after this, I will note that this book felt the least solid of Muratas works. Perhaps nuance was lost in translation, but where convenience store woman and earthlings hit the heart of societal issues and bring up multiple nuanced points, this book struggles to balance immersing you in such a wildly different world to the one we live in with the questions and critiques of society. It felt like a lot of conversations went repeated, without any additional depth or statements, so a lot of the book was a bit of a loop. At times I felt like chunks were missing, as we go from one state of normality to another with Amane without seeing this polar flip of assimilation to a new societal standard occur. This book could've done with just a bit more time to fully explore the themes and ideas it wanted to present; it felt somewhat part baked.

🚫spoilers for the ending that made me uncomfortable incase you want to know why I'm low-key crashing out about it🚫

The ending is where my issue with this book lies, and I will explain this as a spoiler here because I think this scene will be the dividing line on if you can or can't read this book, and I honestly wish I had a warning. A "child" is at her apartment building and putting up a poster for a mother's day celebration, remarking to our main character that they aren't a child anymore but the main character remarks she will always see them as her child. She spills her coffee and scalds the child by accident, so takes the child to her apartment in order to treat the injury. After seeing the child is male, she coerces the child into intercourse.

There's so much nuance to the world Murata has set up, since all of these people are mothers and everyone else is a child is this incest first of all? The "child" doesn't know what sex is and it isn't clear that the main character does anymore, but surely this is rape? There's a lot of blurred lines on what is or isn't happening but I found the entire ending unnecessary. I feel very repulsed, and while the rest of the novel is wonderful this is the first book by Murata that is so lowly rated by me as I can't in good faith rate this book as the four stars it would've been had this content not been included.

I enjoy Muratas social commentary, I enjoyed all the themes and questions raised by this novel, but this is the first time I've felt her content to be too much for shock factors sake; I don't know what those last few pages were and I am honestly just confused and dissapointed and may update this review after having more time to think on it!