I Can't Believe It's About Butter : "Butter" by Asako Yuzuki
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| The book cover |
About the Author (and Translator)
The biography printed on the back of the book's jacket shows the writer, Asako Yuzuki, and her list of accomplishments in various book prizes in Japan. Her works had apparently been adapted for television, radio, and film. So why was it that only now I heard about it? But outside of Haruki Murakami's works, I never really took a heart towards any other Japanese authors. The popular ones that made it to the bookstore shelves were either mystery, thriller, or downright weird and bare-naked in their themes. There is also the problem of the narration; outside of Haruki Murakami's writings, I could not get into the style of narration or translation. Polly Barton, the translator for Butter, did a great job of bridging this gap. I've learned basic Japanese and my (small) circle is generally proficient in the Japanese language, so I know enough about their grammar. There is a large gap to be crossed with translation. So, once more, give it up for Polly Barton and her seamless translation.
Blurb
There are two things
that I simply cannot tolerate:
feminists and margarine
Gourmet cook Manako Kajii sits in the Tokyo Detention House convicted of serial murders of lonely businessmen, whom she is said to have seduced with her delicious home cooking. The case has captured the nation's imagination, but Kajii refuses to speak with the press, entertaining no visitors. That is, until journalist Rika Machida writes a letter asking for her recipe for beef stew, and Kajii can't resist writing back.
Rika, the only woman in her news office, works late each night, rarely cooking more than ramen. As the visits unfold between her and the steely Kajii, they are closer to a master class in food than journalistic research. Rika hopes this gastronomic exchange will help her soften Kajii, but it seems that Rika might be the one changing. With each meal she eats, something is awakening in her body. Do she and Kajii have more in common than she once thought?
Inspired by the real case of a convicted con woman and serial killer—the "Konkatsu Killer"—Asako Yuzuki's Butter is a vivid, unsettling exploration of misogyny, obsession, romance, and the transgressive pleasures of food in Japan.
Impression (Spoiler-free)
The charm that drew me into Butter was the promise of food, and it didn't disappoint. An exciting surprise was how the characters struggle under the gender double standard so highly upheld in their social environment, and how each of the women deals with it. Or, in other words, down with deep-rooted patriarchy. Then it branches out to other social environment issues that are often heard about Japanese society: the reluctance, shame, and guilt in asking for help.
All the recipes and descriptions of food in this book are delectable. I've tried one, the very first recipe, and it was all I ate for days because of how simple it is. Hot, piping rice, a spoonful of soy sauce, top it with butter – not margarine. Every taste description made me salivate, as it was beautifully described.
On the other hand, the promise of a 'murder case' fell somewhat short, though from the get-go you could tell this book was never about the murder case, but about the people affected by it, including the suspect. Book covers usually lie. But anyway, I wouldn't have finished this book in mere three days if this was your run-of-the-mill detective story uncovering the secret behind the case! So I am content with it.
What dissatisfied me is a very simple reason: the structure is banally predictable, following a three-story structure: set up, confrontation, and resolution. It made me think that it was really written by a Japanese author, even if it—I think—was made with an international audience in mind.
I recommend everyone read it, even more so if you like culinary fiction.
Spoiler Section
We start with Rika going to her best friend's house while picking up—wait for it—butter for her. I must say, in true Japanese narration, the paragraphs went on to explain every detail about the lives of the two characters. This is the thing that made me generally dislike reading Japanese fiction besides Haruki Murakami's, who shy away from infodumping. Despite the good writing (and translation), the narration still touched on my nerves for how much telling there was in the earlier pages. Then we get to Manako Kajii (MK)'s biography, where the theme is apparent: expectations.
What the public found most alarming, even more than Kajii's lack of beauty, was the fact that she was not thin. [...] From early childhood, everyone had had it drummed into them that if a woman wasn't slim, she wasn't worth bothering with. The decision not to lose weight and remain plus-sized was one that demanded considerable resolve.
The pace picked up after Rika managed to meet MK, after following Reiko's advice to ask for her recipe in the letter she (Rika) sent to the Detention House. Then we get to the culinary descriptions, and I got off my couch to make the same thing. Hitherto, it was all about butter, food second, then expectations.
Social Commentaries
The narration is wrought with many social commentaries specifically about society's expectations that are put on women. Rika started putting on weight from following every food-tasting request asked by MK. Her changes were met with particular displeasure by the people around her, until she finally scored an exclusive interview with MK for her magazine. Suddenly, it was proof of her effort and dedication to work, instead of 'laziness' as she was perceived before. Even Reiko thought that Rika had stopped caring for herself. Take a look at this excerpt between her boyfriend, Makoto, and Rika:
Have you put on a few pounds?
Hey, you can hardly talk! Your belly's huge these days, thanks to all that drinking. You've started snoring and everything.
Men putting on weight is different from women putting on weight, though. I'm only saying this for your sake, Rika.
MK's opinion on men, for someone anti-feminist, can actually fall in line with radical feminist thinking, perhaps just reversed. She thinks men are naturally inept creatures; giant babies, so to speak, which is what Rika basically thought also. While MK took it for granted that they needed serving and care or else they could do nothing, Rika wondered why they did nothing to better themselves or do any domestic chores when they had all the means: able, healthy bodies.
Butter
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| © tashka2000/stock.adobe.com |
There is so much about butter. MK is a fanatic of one and managed to convert Rika into one. Most of the recipes and meals featured in this book are served with plentiful butter. The taste of each different butter and dish is aptly, somewhat poetically described. The protagonist, Rika, had a day trip to try every type of butter there is and dish needing butter, including a turkey at the end. There are brand names I don't recognise, though, so I can't say how correct the description of each butter's taste is.
This book positively influences me to buy and use butter in almost every meal I take now, although all that I've eaten is that rice-soy sauce-butter for the past three days. I didn't get tired of it. Butter being about butter is hardly any surprise, though, right?
Murder Case
As mentioned above, the murder case itself fell short. There are three victims, each being MK's past lovers. MK is being suspected as she was the only one who was last seen with the three victims before their (suicide/natural causes-looking) death. But there is no evidence, alibi, or detailed rundown of their death. Which pleases me, personally. This novel is more of a social-culinary-feminist novel than it is a mystery-detective-thriller.
The story subtly hints that MK might really not be the killer of the three victims, but that they killed themselves once MK realises she withdrew her care. To some degree, the same incident almost befell Rika after MK "betrayed" her by releasing a new article refuting all of Rika's claims in their exclusive interview. Rika got so distraught that she almost fell to her death, before catching herself and slinking back to the safety of her room.
People
The subtler working theme in the book is expectations for people as individuals. Rika, in particular, had rather high expectations of MK, so when MK betrayed her at the end, she fell into a mild depression. During that time, she could not bring herself to ask for help, despite advocating that people could and should do so. This particular stance is apparently cultural. According to this article, Japanese people tend to understand difficulties and mental pain as "retribution for deviating from or violating social norms and order". Fortunately, Rika managed to seek help at the end and bounce back from the setback.
As mentioned above, there were a lot of expectations put on Rika, both as a woman and a journalist. There is also an expectation Reiko put herself under as a housewife and expectant mother. In fact, there are so many expectations surrounding the characters that I cannot dissect them one by one; if I did, might as well write a thesis about it.
Final Thoughts
This novel starts slow by setting up the scene, led it to a rather tense confrontation, then ended it with a peaceful resolution. The social commentaries, the way the characters are distinct and has their own inner struggles (including the minor characters), are all well-written. One aspect that had me completely off-guard was when, in the resolution, the novel introduce some of Turkish culture and quote a Qur'an verse.
Overall, I rated this 4,75 out of 5 stars.
Thank you for reading this far, see you next time!
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