Book Review: The Dangers of Smoking in Bed by Mariana Enríquez 

Prior to this book, I’d never read anything from Mariana Enríquez. Don’t hate me! Now that I’ve read this fabulous collection of short stories, I can’t wait to discover more from this Argentine author. In fact, The Dangers of Smoking in Bed is a perfect introduction. Within these pages, I discovered some of the most unsettling and disturbing fiction that I’ve ever read. As my readers know, I adore horror in all its myriad of grisly forms, and what Enríquez has accomplished here is some of the finest pieces of psychological horror you will find in contemporary literature.

The Dangers of Smoking in Bed (2009) by Mariana Enríquez and translated from Spanish by Megan McDowell in 2021; Photo Credit: Natalie Getter (Rating: 4 out of 5 stars)

The twelve stories that exist in these 187 pages are at once terrifying while also being so beautifully captivating. Enríquez is a modern-day wizard, conjuring up an army of dead and missing children, teenage obsession that becomes murderous, and a curse that undoes an entire neighborhood in glorious karmic retribution. I firmly believe that the first story in any author’s collection sets the tone and expectations for what is to follow, and here “Angelita Unearthed” does just that with this tale of a woman being haunted by the ghost of her grandmother’s deceased sibling. This opener is so bizarre, more so by the protagonist’s relaxed attitude to the insane events occurring.

Enríquez is so wickedly twisted, and I say this as a compliment. One of my favorite stories was “Where Are You Dear Heart?” about a woman obsessed with damaged hearts that becomes darker and darker until it meets a crescendo about taking your desires too far. It’s just so ghastly! Obsession is a recurrent theme in several of these stories, such as “Meat” about a group of super fans who take their devotion to their dead idol to insane extremes.

Another stand-out for me was “The Well” about a young woman suffering from paralyzing anxiety who tracks down a witch who might be the answer to curing her affliction. This one contains a classic twist ending as a family secret is unearthed. The longest story in the collection is ‘Kids Who Come Back’, in which a disgruntled government worker is haunted by the memory of a disappeared girl, who is found after several years having not aged a single day. When other missing and assumed dead children begin to reappear, the story builds to something that is equally horrifying and heartbreaking. While these stories all stand alone, they also connect together, forming a deeper theme on loss. Death, isolation, and abandonment all occur here, bringing a poignancy beneath the chills and frights.

Enríquez’s prose (as well as Megan McDowell’s perfect translation) is magical, deceptive by being casual, delivered just right to keep you reading even when you begin to feel this creeping dread. This author keeps you feeling unsettled and knows just how much her readers enjoy being scared. For a collection enveloped in paranoia and unease, The Dangers of Smoking in Bed is compulsive reading and remarkably well-crafted. It’s an impressive feat that will keep you reading well past your bedtime.

“At that age, there’s music playing in your head all the time, as if a radio were transmitting from the nape of your neck, inside your skull. Then one day the music starts to grow softer, or it just stops. When that happens, you’re no longer a teenager. But we weren’t there yet, not even close, back when we talked to the dead.”

 

Have you read this book? I’d love to know your thoughts! Let me know with a comment below.

 

Book Review: Your Utopia by Bora Chung

Earlier this week, I published my review of Cursed Bunny by Korean author Bora Chung. If you read that post, you’ll know I loved this varied collection of short stories from the bottom of my heart. In fact, I was so enamored with Cursed Bunny, that I immediately reserved her next book of short stories from my local library. Your Utopia contains another set of breathtaking pieces, but this time the emphasis is science fiction, perhaps making this a more cohesive collection.  Where Cursed Bunny jumped around a little (fantasy, horror, science-fiction), the eight stories comprising Your Utopia are thematically linked.  There’s a shift here to speculative fiction, providing the reader with views into the future with a few technological twists. Translated once again by Anton Hur, this book is another phenomenal achievement from Bora Chung.

Your Utopia (2024) by Bora Chung and translated by Anton Hur; Photo Credit: Natalie Getter (Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars)

At first, I was a little concerned after reading the first story. “The Center for Immortality Research” is a light-hearted work about an anniversary event that turns into a complete comedy of errors. As this is Bora Chung, expect her to shock her readers at the very end of this story. While this was an entertaining piece, it was far from being a favorite for me. I actually began to fear that I wouldn’t enjoy this collection as much as Cursed Bunny. My feelings completely changed with the second story. “The End of the Voyage” focuses on a group sent into space after a global pandemic that turns people into cannibals. When the virus gets aboard the spaceship, this story turns into a terrifying fight for survival. The last sentence of this one gave me the chills and will be remembered for quite some time.

Most of the stories feature the darker side of technological advancement and the effect it does (and will) have on our lives. “Maria, Gratia Plena” is about a technician who is scanning the brain of a criminal in a coma in order to piece together how a crime actually happened. The title story, “Your Utopia,” is told from the point-of-view of an intelligent car fighting to survive after humanity has been wiped out. This one turned out to be another favorite and served as another nightmare version of the future.

My favorite from this book has to be “A Song for Sleep.” The narrator for this one is a sentient elevator who becomes curious and then slowly falls in love with an elderly resident. It’s so heartbreaking (and so GOOD) as this artificial intelligence works so hard to understand life and the eternal question of why humans must age and die. If this story fails to move you, then you don’t have a soul!

As I write out my thoughts on here, I’ve come to the realization that the stories on here are just as varied as they were in Cursed Bunny. While all eight of the pieces in Your Utopia are science fiction, you’ll find some that are emotionally evocative and some that are lighter in tone, such as “A Very Ordinary Marriage”, in which a husband discovers that his wife is an extraterrestrial. Suffice to say, there’s something to enjoy for every taste. The final author’s note titled “The Art of Mourning” provides some great insight into Bora Chung and her work as an activist. I’m so thankful to have discovered her stories and now eagerly wait for the next ones.

“For the first time since my activation, I do not want to operate. I want to keep the traces of her fingertips close to me and to remain here with my doors open, playing this single song for her forever.”-“A Song for Sleep”

 

Have you read this book? I’d love to know your thoughts! Let me know with a comment below.

 
 

Book Review: Cursed Bunny by Bora Chung

This year, I’ve made it a personal quest to read more short story collections. It’s been going much better than expected, and I’ve had the pleasure of reading some incredible short stories from some of the most brilliant writers of contemporary fiction. During this journey, I discovered a couple of interesting trends: all the short story collections I’ve read are from women writers, and the works are extremely dark. Two of these books come from the genius of Korean author Bora Chung. I read her first book, Cursed Bunny, back in February. When I was finished, I knew immediately that I would be reading her recent follow-up, Your Utopia, and so I reserved it from my local library. While I was originally planning to review both together, I’ve decided to keep them separate, as they are quite different stylistically. One leans more toward horror, while the other is heavily science fiction. So let’s discuss the delightfully twisted tales of Cursed Bunny!

Cursed Bunny (2017) by Bora Chung and translated by Anton Hur; Photo Credit: Natalie Getter (Rating: 5 out of 5 stars!)

This is the most varied assortment of stories I’ve ever encountered in one book! I thought I knew what I was getting into with this collection, particularly as the first two stories were firmly rooted in body horror. The opener titled “The Head” is so disgusting that the less I say about it, the better. You’ll just have to read it to see what I mean. The second tale called “The Embodiment” is so surreal and Kafkaesque, as a woman becomes inexplicably pregnant despite never having been with anyone. Rather than provide any sympathetic advice, however, her physician tells her that in order to have a normal baby, this young mother will have to find a suitable father. The story then becomes an allegory on parenting and the pressures of a woman in Korea believing she must have a man in her life. Chung infuses both of these opening stories with a lot of humor, but it doesn’t take long for them to become so disturbing. I completely loved these stories, and, rightfully so, was mistaken in believing that all ten stories would be works of horror. Far from it, as Chung proves she is adept at moving from genre to genre with equal skill.

For example, “Goodbye, My Love” is fully in the science fiction vein, focusing on a scientist and her relationships with the androids she creates. While she works through the difficult decision to send her first ever creation back to the factory as it’s become obsolete, she wonders if perhaps the android has feelings about this as well. “Snare” is a dark version of the classic golden goose fable, while “Ruler of the Winds and Sands” is a fantasy fable taking place on a desert world. In this one, a princess embarks on a mission to restore the sight of the prince she is to marry, only to discover that things are not as they seem, and that human nature is a terrible thing.

Another group of stories take a darker and supernatural approach. One of the best horror shorts I’ve ever read is called “The Frozen Finger” and is a claustrophobic story of a woman trapped in a sinking car in complete darkness with only a cold hand for company and support. It’s so chilling! (no pun intended). Another favorite from this collection, “Reunion,” is a clever ghost story that takes the reader in so many directions, leading us to examine the darkness that exists in each of us. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the title story of this phenomenal book. “Cursed Bunny” is told from the point-of-view of a grandfather who takes revenge on a company by gifting them a cursed object, a rabbit lamp shade. As the story unfolds, we see how the curse works on a family but also how it comes back on the grandfather himself.

Overall, Chung’s first collection is an impressive debut, with translator Anton Hur doing an extraordinary job in converting these twisted tales for us English readers to enjoy. Here’s my warning: as impressed as I was with this book, I recognize it’s not for the squeamish or for the faint of heart. I encourage you dear reader to have the courage to check out this intriguing collection from one of my new favorite writers. If you still say Bora Chung is a no-go, I ask that you wait for my review of Your Utopia before making a decision.

“I could finally understand the horrific and cruel clarity of what he considered to be meaningful. The desperation and immense fear that your life, as well as the future to come, hinged on a moment.”-“Reunion”

Have you read this book? I’d love to know your thoughts! Let me know with a comment below.

Book Review: If Cats Disappeared From The World by Genki Kawamura

Welcome to my first official review of 2024! I’ve come to believe that the book that kicks off a new year should be a rather special one, so long ago I started a tradition where my first read would be a book given to me as a present. This year’s selection is quite special for so many reasons. First and foremost, it was a gift from my lovely wife Natalie, someone who has shaped my life in so many positive ways. Another reason why this book is so special is because it’s a translated work from Japan, and as all of you have figured out by now, I have quite the love for Japanese fiction. The fact that it comes from a new-to-me author is another fun bonus! You should be able to work out the final reason why I adore this book from its title. Another great perk to Japanese fiction, whether it’s a novel, a manga, or an anime, is that there’s a better than reasonable chance that a cat will appear at some point. To say that cats have saved my life is an understatement. The person that I am, as well as the person I strive to be, is a result of a love for this creature. While here in America, the title of man’s best friend belongs to the dog, in Japan that honor goes to the cat. Also, books and cats pair so well together, don’t they? However, you don’t have to be a lover of cats (but it helps) to enjoy this remarkable novella, If Cats Disappeared from the World by Genki Kawamura. Rather, you just need to be a lover of a great story, such as this one about a man who discovers that he only has a short time left in this world. This book is a poignant tale about discovering what truly matters in this story we call life.

If Cats Disappeared from the World (2012) by Genki Kawamura, translated into English in 2019 by Eric Selland. Photo Credit: Natalie Getter. (Rating: 5 out of 5 stars!)

The book begins with our unnamed narrator writing a letter to someone about the most unusual week he has had, which happens to be his final one. A postman by trade, the narrator leads a rather boring life with only his cat named Cabbage for friendship. Four years ago, his mother passed away, resulting in an broken relationship with his father. When he learns that he has cancer and the prognosis is that he has just a few weeks left to live, the narrator is filled with regrets for everything he hasn’t done. He attempts to create a list of what he wants to accomplish in his final days, but realizes he doesn’t actually want to do any of it. The situation becomes even weirder when a man arrives and claims he is the devil, a figure who looks exactly like the protagonist, except he dresses in bright Hawaiian shirts. The devil also has further bad news: our narrator only has one day left to live rather than a few weeks as the doctors diagnosed. The devil then explains that he wants to make a deal, one that he’s made 107 times to others before. The narrator is allowed to extend his life one day at a time in exchange for something in the world disappearing forever. Sceptical at first, he agrees to the deal, and the next day phones vanish from the world. What would a world that doesn’t remember phones look like? What will the devil choose to destroy the next day? This Faustian deal raises the questions on what is actually important in life. As our protagonist becomes reacquainted with an ex-girlfriend and reminiscing about his past, he soon learns what it truly means to live.

As you can already guess, this is an emotional story. I’ve said before how much I admire writers who can create something with so much impact in so few words. Written as a series of letters over the course of seven days, symbolic of the Biblical creation, this is a book that can be finished in a day while leaving the impression of a lifetime. Japanese fiction is so wonderful because it can be so bizarre yet feel so much a part of everyday life. The quirkiness in human behavior is captured so well in works from Japan, so maybe that’s why it works so well with the inclusion of cats. There’s this comfortable coexistence between humans and cats that is reflected in their writings which makes it’s heartwarming to read. Perhaps, it is that Japanese authors understand that cats are often just as misunderstood as humans.

“Cats and humans have been partners for over ten thousand years. And what you’ve realized when you live with a cat for a long time is that we think we own them, but that’s not the way it is. They simply allow us the pleasure of their company.”

While this is very much a book about various relationships in the narrator’s life (his parents, his ex-girlfriend, his best friend), the most important is the one with his cat named Cabbage. We learn that his mother was a cat lover and she passed on that love along with Cabbage to him. Their first cat, Lettuce, becomes part of the family, and after he dies, his mother goes into a state of depression – until Cabbage joins their family. After learning he will die soon, the narrator worries about who will take care of his cat when he’s gone. Seeing the narrator’s relationship and anxiety over his cat led me to reflect on the very special relationships I have had with each of my four cats. My wife and I have grieved the loss of two so far, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about them.

As the narrator struggles with the idea of dying soon and reflects on the disappearing objects and what they mean to humans, he often goes back to the image of his mother as the woman who kept the family together. She was the rope, and after her death, everything unravelled between him and his father. Aside from always trying to mend their relationship, she’s the one who teaches him the different ways to cope with life, and also the person who gives him perspective on the nature of cats.

While the ending of the novel becomes a bit more obvious the more you read, the manner in which the conclusion is reached is deeply moving and emotional. Kawamura’s prose is simplistic, yet laced with a genuine affectation that one begins to understand as a kind of pull towards life. The narrator struggles with the idea of death, but as the stakes grow, he recognizes that the time will come to say goodbye. But the finality of death comes with the gift of being able to resolve unfinished business, to be able to put energy into what is truly important. All of this makes for a sad but heartwarming story.

If Cats Disappeared from the World is a beautiful and comforting story, despite the macabre premise. It’s about embracing each day as if it were your last and about making peace in your life. So I encourage everyone who reads this post to please cherish time with your loved ones. If you haven’t spoken to someone in a long time because of a fight, make peace with that person. Nothing is more expensive than regrets, so do everything possible to minimize the number of those in your life. Remember, tomorrow never knows.

“I got so caught up with all the little everyday things that I ended up wasting the time I could have spent on more important things. But the scariest thing is that I never even noticed that I was wasting my precious time.”

 

Have you read this book? I’d love to know your thoughts! Let me know with a comment below.

 
 

Double Review: Before the Coffee Gets Cold and The Cabinet

For years, I have held a deep and growing love for Asian literature. My journey began when I discovered the Kafkaesque mind of Haruki Murakami. Once those roots were planted, I made it my mission to branch out and uncover other authors from the East. Asian literature is known to be very philosophical, exploring important matters in life, such as fate versus free will, the meaning of life, and where we come from as well as where we are heading. Both of the books I am reviewing today examine these themes while also possessing both fun and surreal qualities. Perhaps being a rather strange fellow myself (in the best ways, I assure you), it really is the bizarre natures of these stories that truly captivate me.

Zephyr is pleased to present two translated works for your reading pleasure. Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi was originally published in Japanese in 2015. I loved this book, as anyone with a soul should, so my rating is 5 stars! The Cabinet by Un-Su Kim was originally published in Korean in 2006. This was a fun and surreal read that turned very dark, while still being highly enjoyable. I give it 4 stars. Photo Credit: Natalie Getter

In a small and unassuming back alley in Tokyo, there is a café which has been serving carefully brewed coffee for over a century. While this little shop has a reputation for its fantastic coffee, it also offers an incredible once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Select customers can have the unique experience to travel back in time. Of course, there are rules that must be followed at all costs: the customer must sit in a particular seat, they cannot leave the café, and finally, they must return to the present before the coffee gets cold. Otherwise, they risk becoming the next ghost that haunts the café, currently in the form of the last customer who ignored the rules.

Before the Coffee Gets Cold is divided into four separate stories of those who are seeking to make use of this special method of time travel. We begin with a young woman wanting to return to the day her boyfriend broke up with her, in the hopes of stopping him this time. Despite the warning that the outcome will not change, she still makes the decision to confront him. The following stories are equally compelling and heartbreaking, consisting of a wife wanting to receive a letter from her husband whose memory was taken by early onset Alzheimer’s, a despondent sister wanting to make amends, and a mother who wants to meet the daughter that she never had a chance to know.

I love how this book combines the intense focus of the short story form with the deep characterization of a novel. Each chapter spotlights a different customer in the shop and their desire to time travel, but those same customers overlap throughout the other characters’ stories. We also grow to love the family that runs it, so this feels like a well-constructed novel filled with characters that support each other through love and loss.

Despite its use of time travel, I did not view this novel as a work of science fiction. Instead, I saw it as a clever and insightful look at the fragility of human nature. You will definitely shed more than one tear, as loved ones reunite, learn something new about themselves, and gain the opportunity to say goodbye. The barrier of not being able to change history is stressed multiple times in the narrative, resulting in emotional anguish once you learn their reasons these characters want to travel in time. Who hasn’t wished for a do-over in life? But that’s not what this café offers. As these patrons confront their most tragic losses, powerless to stop them from coming to be, they are given the opportunity for something much more valuable: closure. For such a short book, it truly runs the gamut on various tragedies that occur in life. Whether it’s the final moments of break-up, revisiting the precious time before dementia takes hold of a loved one, or saying goodbye to a family member who was taken far too soon, author Toshikazu Kawaguchi captures the heartbreak of being human. His beautiful prose is excellently translated by the wonderful Geoffrey Troussalot. Failure to not be moved means you might possibly lack a soul!

Before the Coffee Gets Cold is sad while also being hopeful. Kawaguchi reminds us to embrace every moment. After all, tomorrow is a gift that is never guaranteed.

“I was so absorbed in the things that I couldn’t change, I forgot the most important thing.”

Time to move from the poignant to the bizarre…

In a basic and nondescript old cabinet in the back of an unused office, there are files that upon reading may be dismissed as complete science fiction. These reports chronicle individuals from around the world with extraordinary abilities. Labeled as “symptomers,” these people are ushering in a new species of advanced evolution. Among them is a man who actually turns into a tree, people skipping time, a man who wants to turn into a cat, people who believe they’re from another planet and spend their entire lives sending radio messages to outer space, and people who can erase and replace unwanted memories at will.

Overseeing this collection of dusty files is a man by the name of Mr. Kong, who discovers the truth about symptomers entirely by accident while wandering the halls of the building where he works. Mr. Kong is bored with the mundane nature of his job, as well as his life, until he stumbles upon the old cabinet. Suddenly, he makes it his life’s mission to read every file and to meet each of the individuals in these files. While the new caregiver to these files has nothing but benevolent intentions, soon he grabs the attention of a shadowy organization who perhaps has more sinister designs in mind in regards to the future of humanity.

I love how the body of translated Asian literature continues to grow. The Cabinet by Un-Su Kim was originally published in Korean in 2006, but it would not be available in an English translation until 2021 by Sean-Lin Halbert. If you are wanting to get a better understanding of just how weird and fun Asian literature can be, you should definitely give this book a read. The narrative structure, divided into three sections, is interesting. The first section is the longest and reads more like a short story collection, chronicling the bizarre cases of these symptomers. As the book progresses, the sections become shorter and shorter, with the focus being on Mr. Kong and the organization that is after him and the files.

It was interesting how the author made use of comedy and wittiness in a narrative that explores what it means to be human. He almost makes everything feel real and as if all of this is happening around us but lies just outside of our awareness. However, as the novel progresses into the later sections, the book becomes more of a suspense thriller which culminates in a terrifying body horror scene that made me question if I had accidentally picked up another book. I will warn you that the ending was a bit confusing for me, and now I find myself questioning if something went completely over my head.

What makes The Cabinet compelling is in the small details into the lives of the symptomers. I think this book has plenty of “blink and you will miss it” moments, so I feel like a second read of it would be a good idea in the future. It definitely defies an easy description, making this translated work quite distinctive. For those readers who love the labyrinthine rabbit holes of authors like Haruki Murakami or Yoko Ogawa, then definitely give The Cabinet a read.

“I wonder if my lost time is rolling around somewhere. I could have loved someone with that time — I could have done something beautiful for someone. But I’ve nothing to show for that lost time. No waste, no ruin, no regrets, no pain. No feeling of having been alive.”

Have you read either of these books? I’d love to know your thoughts! Let me know with a comment below.