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Diary of a Void
A prizewinning, thrillingly subversive debut novel about a woman in Japan who avoids harassment at work by perpetuating, for nine months and beyond, the lie that she's pregnant
When thirty-four-year-old Ms. Shibata gets a new job in Tokyo to escape sexual harassment at her old one, she finds that, as the only woman at her new workplace--a company that manufactures cardboard tubes--she is expected to do all the menial tasks. One day she announces that she can't clear away her colleagues' dirty cups--because she's pregnant and the smell nauseates her. The only thing is . . . Ms. Shibata is not pregnant.
Pregnant Ms. Shibata doesn't have to serve coffee to anyone. Pregnant Ms. Shibata isn't forced to work overtime. Pregnant Ms. Shibata rests, watches TV, takes long baths, and even joins an aerobics class for expectant mothers. But pregnant Ms. Shibata also has a nine-month ruse to keep up. Helped along by towel-stuffed shirts and a diary app on which she can log every stage of her "pregnancy," she feels prepared to play the game for the long haul. Before long, though, the hoax becomes all-absorbing, and the boundary between her lie and her life begins to dissolve.
A surreal and wryly humorous cultural critique, Diary of a Void is bound to become a landmark in feminist world literature.
When thirty-four-year-old Ms. Shibata gets a new job in Tokyo to escape sexual harassment at her old one, she finds that, as the only woman at her new workplace--a company that manufactures cardboard tubes--she is expected to do all the menial tasks. One day she announces that she can't clear away her colleagues' dirty cups--because she's pregnant and the smell nauseates her. The only thing is . . . Ms. Shibata is not pregnant.
Pregnant Ms. Shibata doesn't have to serve coffee to anyone. Pregnant Ms. Shibata isn't forced to work overtime. Pregnant Ms. Shibata rests, watches TV, takes long baths, and even joins an aerobics class for expectant mothers. But pregnant Ms. Shibata also has a nine-month ruse to keep up. Helped along by towel-stuffed shirts and a diary app on which she can log every stage of her "pregnancy," she feels prepared to play the game for the long haul. Before long, though, the hoax becomes all-absorbing, and the boundary between her lie and her life begins to dissolve.
A surreal and wryly humorous cultural critique, Diary of a Void is bound to become a landmark in feminist world literature.
213 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2020
About the author
Emi Yagi
3 books247 followersEmi Yagi is an editor at a Japanese women’s magazine. She was born in 1988 and lives in Tokyo. Diary of a Void is her first novel; it won the Dazai Osamu Prize, awarded annually to the best debut work of fiction.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 3,354 reviews
February 9, 2024
how did my journal get published?
get it? because i'm a void?
anyway.
this is in many ways the ideal book: perfect title, feminist, slightly creepy, slightly funny.
it proves its point — that women are seen as worthless unless they're bringing life into the world, and that they're treated in society accordingly — in the most effective and entertaining way possible.
and also the shortest.
bottom line: i had a good time!
get it? because i'm a void?
anyway.
this is in many ways the ideal book: perfect title, feminist, slightly creepy, slightly funny.
it proves its point — that women are seen as worthless unless they're bringing life into the world, and that they're treated in society accordingly — in the most effective and entertaining way possible.
and also the shortest.
bottom line: i had a good time!
May 5, 2023
“Diary of a Void” is written by Emi Yagi, who is a fashion editor in Japan. Her intention was to write a story about loneliness and the prohibitive rolls that women are expected to do as a result of being a female.
Loneliness is not mentioned, it is a feeling one gets while reading the book. It’s an atmosphere. Shibata, the narrator, is frustrated at work. Because she is a woman, the men expect her to make the coffee, organize birthday parties, cleaning the kitchen, in addition to her other responsibilities. The men are simply pigs. When one colleague smokes a cigarette near her, she’s had enough. She informs everyone she is pregnant. Yes, she fakes a pregnancy to get out of menial tasks and be treated better.
Shibata is single and alone. Her life, as she narrates, is sad. As she continues with her pregnancy farce, the reader picks up clues that she may not be in possession of a healthy mental constitution. She realizes that her tummy needs to grow and finds clever ways of creating her baby bump. She even uses one of those baby apps that is a diary, providing her with information about her growing fetus.
Of course she’s treated better at her all male office. But the reader wonders, how will this end? How can this end well?
I listened to the audio, narrated by Nancy Wu. Her voice is melodious and was the perfect pitch for Shibata’s inner thoughts. Translators David Boyd and Lucy North deserve a big shout out. This is a short novel, only 224 pages, 4 ½ hour listen. It’s a quirky story. I enjoyed it, but I doubt it’s for the mainstream.
Loneliness is not mentioned, it is a feeling one gets while reading the book. It’s an atmosphere. Shibata, the narrator, is frustrated at work. Because she is a woman, the men expect her to make the coffee, organize birthday parties, cleaning the kitchen, in addition to her other responsibilities. The men are simply pigs. When one colleague smokes a cigarette near her, she’s had enough. She informs everyone she is pregnant. Yes, she fakes a pregnancy to get out of menial tasks and be treated better.
Shibata is single and alone. Her life, as she narrates, is sad. As she continues with her pregnancy farce, the reader picks up clues that she may not be in possession of a healthy mental constitution. She realizes that her tummy needs to grow and finds clever ways of creating her baby bump. She even uses one of those baby apps that is a diary, providing her with information about her growing fetus.
Of course she’s treated better at her all male office. But the reader wonders, how will this end? How can this end well?
I listened to the audio, narrated by Nancy Wu. Her voice is melodious and was the perfect pitch for Shibata’s inner thoughts. Translators David Boyd and Lucy North deserve a big shout out. This is a short novel, only 224 pages, 4 ½ hour listen. It’s a quirky story. I enjoyed it, but I doubt it’s for the mainstream.
September 9, 2022
Emi Yagi’s novel won the Osamu Dazai Award for best debut fiction. It’s narrated by Shibata, an office worker in her thirties, she lives alone. Her life is overtaken by the demands of work, long hours, and the expectations placed on her as the only woman in her section. Emi Yagi’s talked about Kikuko Tsumura’s There’s no such thing as an easy job as one of the inspirations for her novel but attempting to juggle personal life with work life is something she’s also clearly dealt with – this was written in bursts at the end of 12-hour days at her own job. Her central character Shibata’s consigned to trivial but exhausting everyday tasks, making the coffee, clearing up after meetings, answering the phone, while the men around her benefit from her ability to make their time in the office that much smoother. But, although she doesn’t show it, Shibata’s resentful and increasingly angry, she’s had enough of being put upon and taken for granted, and one day she decides on an unusual method of taking control. She tells everyone she’s pregnant, and suddenly her burden’s lifted, she becomes special, exempt from menial office work, free to leave on time, encouraged to invest in her own health and well-being. But soon that lie becomes fantasy and then fantasy and reality are increasingly blurred.
Emi Yagi’s narrative unfolds in clear, uncluttered prose but it’s also filled with memorable scenes and images, some of which have a slightly uncanny, surreal flavour. Her story slowly develops into a fascinating exploration of urban alienation and loneliness, as well as absurdly all-encompassing work environments, and offers up a moving perspective on gender and Japanese society and the possibility of self-realisation. Shibata’s experiences - which sometimes reminded me of the current obsession with ‘quiet quitting’ - are represented in the form of a weekly diary which are shaped by the information provided by an app which outlines each stage of her supposed pregnancy. At first, I was a little anxious that Shibata’s story would turn out to be an unthinking tale of maternal privilege, but Emi Yagi’s approach is far cleverer and subtler than that. She takes on a critique of the cultural expectations that can shape both men’s and women’s roles in relation to parenthood, but also the ways in which pregnancy can transform women into incubators – or spaces for implantation - not just for future children but as containers for society’s desires and needs: the classificatory systems that can both liberate and oppress, some of which are exposed through Shibata’s gradual incorporation into a small community of pregnant women via a specialist aerobics class. From my point of view the result’s an absorbing, insightful, beautifully-constructed piece. Translated here by David Boyd and Lucy North.
Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Harvill Secker for an ARC
Emi Yagi’s narrative unfolds in clear, uncluttered prose but it’s also filled with memorable scenes and images, some of which have a slightly uncanny, surreal flavour. Her story slowly develops into a fascinating exploration of urban alienation and loneliness, as well as absurdly all-encompassing work environments, and offers up a moving perspective on gender and Japanese society and the possibility of self-realisation. Shibata’s experiences - which sometimes reminded me of the current obsession with ‘quiet quitting’ - are represented in the form of a weekly diary which are shaped by the information provided by an app which outlines each stage of her supposed pregnancy. At first, I was a little anxious that Shibata’s story would turn out to be an unthinking tale of maternal privilege, but Emi Yagi’s approach is far cleverer and subtler than that. She takes on a critique of the cultural expectations that can shape both men’s and women’s roles in relation to parenthood, but also the ways in which pregnancy can transform women into incubators – or spaces for implantation - not just for future children but as containers for society’s desires and needs: the classificatory systems that can both liberate and oppress, some of which are exposed through Shibata’s gradual incorporation into a small community of pregnant women via a specialist aerobics class. From my point of view the result’s an absorbing, insightful, beautifully-constructed piece. Translated here by David Boyd and Lucy North.
Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Harvill Secker for an ARC
March 13, 2023
A diary about a single lonely lady, Shibata, working in a company and lives alone.
She was trying to seek respect from colleagues and people around by telling lies that she was pregnant.
She adored all the special privileges and treatment for pregnant women when working in the office, and traveling on public transportation for 40 weeks.
Interesting story to read.
She was trying to seek respect from colleagues and people around by telling lies that she was pregnant.
She adored all the special privileges and treatment for pregnant women when working in the office, and traveling on public transportation for 40 weeks.
Interesting story to read.
January 25, 2023
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The premise for Diary of a Void promised a ‘surreal and wryly humorous cultural critique’ and I am afraid that while the commentary within this novel is fairly on point, it was by no means ‘thrillingly subversive’. Sadly, I found the execution to be lacklustre and part of me thinks that I might have found it more effective if this premise had not been stretched out beyond its capacity. Sure, Diary of a Void is a slim novel but I still found myself bored by the writing and the direction of the story. If this premise had been contained within the scope of a smaller medium, such as a short story, I probably would have felt more enthusiastic about it.
Despite its absurd premise, the storyline is presented in a cohesive manner and the tone of Shibata’s narration remains for the most part casually unadulterated. This last thing is what initially drew me in. Shibata’s blasé attitude towards her ‘fake’ pregnancy. In the office where she works, she is routinely asked and bullied into cleaning up after everyone else or preparing drinks/food for meetings or whatnot purely because she is a woman. To get her lazy and sexist coworkers and superiors off her back, Shibata one day announces that she can’t clean up because she is pregnant and the smell makes her sick. Shibata then proceeds to act as a pregnant person is expected to in contemporary Japan, for example, she gets a maternity badge on her bag (speaking of which i came across an article that mentions a survey in 2016 showing that over 40% of pregnant ppl choose "not wear the badge at all or not to wear it most of the time in Japan" and "roughly 10% of [those who wore them] experienced some sort of harassment"...which is f*cking depressing), starts using a diary app (hence the title), joins a prenatal aerobics class, and uses the time she would have been working over-time to binge-watch films & series on Amazon Prime, and chooses a name for her child (now this last thing funny). There are a few recurring characters, most notably a male colleague of Shibata who becomes far too involved in her pregnancy and proffers unsolicited advice to her all the time. The weeks and months go by and Shibata uses a towel for a baby bump (you can buy fake ones only but if i recall correctly shibata could not procure one).
There was nothing that I actively disliked about this novel, I was just thoroughly bored and rather underwhelmed. Shibata’s voice was monotone and although I usually liked deadpan & listless narrators, hers just didn’t win me over. I also really love slice-of-live stories, detailing the menial activities and generic conversations most people have day-in-day-out, and novels heavy on the navel-gazing, after all, I am a huge fan of Elif Batuman's The Idiot and Either/Or, but Shibata’s life just didn’t interest me, which is curious given that she is faking a pregnancy. I was hoping that the latter half of the story would be more rewarding or bizarre or anything really but it keeps chugging alone at the same pace. I wish the author could have amped up certain absurdist elements in this story, I think this could have been a far campier and strange tale (the premise had potential...it could have given us Lars and the Real Girl by way of Woman Running in the Mountains & Mieko Kawakami with sprinkles of Kevin Wilson, Helen Oyeyemi, and Hiromi Kawakami...maybe even a dash of Han Kang?). Look, I wasn't expecting the pregnancy element to be as out there as Julia Ducournau's Titane but...it could have been presented in a less vanilla way or at least not have given us such a bathetic 'resolution'.
The social commentary highlights the way women are still pigeonholed (as wives/mothers, or as having to choose between family and a career, being seen as inherently domestic), and how some people idolize pregnancy (the good ol’ Madonna/Whore dichotomy i guess). I guess I wish that the story had explored in more depth the realities of being a single parent in a fairly conservative country that still stigmatizes those who do not uphold so-called traditional family values (bleargh).
Anyway, I just didn't get into this book but I can't say I actively disliked it either. It was very much a meh reading experience for me. If you are interested in this novel I recommend you check out some more positive reviews (there are some very well-written ones out there too!).
“Inside of me, there’s another person, with a form all his own, moving around as he pleases. It’s like my own body has become foreign to me.”
The premise for Diary of a Void promised a ‘surreal and wryly humorous cultural critique’ and I am afraid that while the commentary within this novel is fairly on point, it was by no means ‘thrillingly subversive’. Sadly, I found the execution to be lacklustre and part of me thinks that I might have found it more effective if this premise had not been stretched out beyond its capacity. Sure, Diary of a Void is a slim novel but I still found myself bored by the writing and the direction of the story. If this premise had been contained within the scope of a smaller medium, such as a short story, I probably would have felt more enthusiastic about it.
“As I wrote in my notebook, I wondered: How many other imaginary children were there in the world? And where were they now? What were they doing? I hoped they were leading happy lives.”
Despite its absurd premise, the storyline is presented in a cohesive manner and the tone of Shibata’s narration remains for the most part casually unadulterated. This last thing is what initially drew me in. Shibata’s blasé attitude towards her ‘fake’ pregnancy. In the office where she works, she is routinely asked and bullied into cleaning up after everyone else or preparing drinks/food for meetings or whatnot purely because she is a woman. To get her lazy and sexist coworkers and superiors off her back, Shibata one day announces that she can’t clean up because she is pregnant and the smell makes her sick. Shibata then proceeds to act as a pregnant person is expected to in contemporary Japan, for example, she gets a maternity badge on her bag (speaking of which i came across an article that mentions a survey in 2016 showing that over 40% of pregnant ppl choose "not wear the badge at all or not to wear it most of the time in Japan" and "roughly 10% of [those who wore them] experienced some sort of harassment"...which is f*cking depressing), starts using a diary app (hence the title), joins a prenatal aerobics class, and uses the time she would have been working over-time to binge-watch films & series on Amazon Prime, and chooses a name for her child (now this last thing funny). There are a few recurring characters, most notably a male colleague of Shibata who becomes far too involved in her pregnancy and proffers unsolicited advice to her all the time. The weeks and months go by and Shibata uses a towel for a baby bump (you can buy fake ones only but if i recall correctly shibata could not procure one).
There was nothing that I actively disliked about this novel, I was just thoroughly bored and rather underwhelmed. Shibata’s voice was monotone and although I usually liked deadpan & listless narrators, hers just didn’t win me over. I also really love slice-of-live stories, detailing the menial activities and generic conversations most people have day-in-day-out, and novels heavy on the navel-gazing, after all, I am a huge fan of Elif Batuman's The Idiot and Either/Or, but Shibata’s life just didn’t interest me, which is curious given that she is faking a pregnancy. I was hoping that the latter half of the story would be more rewarding or bizarre or anything really but it keeps chugging alone at the same pace. I wish the author could have amped up certain absurdist elements in this story, I think this could have been a far campier and strange tale (the premise had potential...it could have given us Lars and the Real Girl by way of Woman Running in the Mountains & Mieko Kawakami with sprinkles of Kevin Wilson, Helen Oyeyemi, and Hiromi Kawakami...maybe even a dash of Han Kang?). Look, I wasn't expecting the pregnancy element to be as out there as Julia Ducournau's Titane but...it could have been presented in a less vanilla way or at least not have given us such a bathetic 'resolution'.
The social commentary highlights the way women are still pigeonholed (as wives/mothers, or as having to choose between family and a career, being seen as inherently domestic), and how some people idolize pregnancy (the good ol’ Madonna/Whore dichotomy i guess). I guess I wish that the story had explored in more depth the realities of being a single parent in a fairly conservative country that still stigmatizes those who do not uphold so-called traditional family values (bleargh).
Anyway, I just didn't get into this book but I can't say I actively disliked it either. It was very much a meh reading experience for me. If you are interested in this novel I recommend you check out some more positive reviews (there are some very well-written ones out there too!).
August 17, 2022
So quirky, so weirdly absorbing... While reading Diary of a Void I kept obsessively thinking how much this novel reminds me of
The Woman in the Purple Skirt
by Natsuko Imamura and thanks to a note at the end I realized it was translated by the same person, Lucy North, accompanied by David Boyd here. She did an impressive job again and I think it is great when translators, who usually tend to be transparent like cellophane, find a way to speak with their own voices, respecting the individuality of the book at the same time. And as for literary associations, I often recalled
Fear and Trembling
by Amélie Nothomb too.
It is best to go totally blind into Diary of a Void. Having a baby isn’t easy. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. — this passage summarizes the theme of this novel. I liked the feminist message of Emi Yagi's book although I wish the rhetoric was not so straightforward.
Shibata's story is interspersed with acute social observations. To my mind, the portrayal of her workplace is intended as a bleak caricature not only of a Japanese company but of modern society in general. The conclusions are far from optimistic: The office was a swamp. Not a deep one. But one that let off a weird-smelling gas all year round.
I liked being subtly manipulated by Emi Yagi — the author blends the borderline between reality and Shibata's dreams truly deftly. I found interesting the way the symbol of the void was used in the novel. To my mind, it refers not only to the emptiness of the protagonist's uterus but also to the emotional vacuum in which she is floating, seemingly being perfectly fine. Emi Yagi's depiction of Shibata's loneliness is devastating despite the calm, down-to-earth, sometimes eerily hilarious tone of her narration.
Image by Laura Steerman, an Irish artist, who creates paintings using ultrasound images.
[Source.]
It is best to go totally blind into Diary of a Void. Having a baby isn’t easy. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. — this passage summarizes the theme of this novel. I liked the feminist message of Emi Yagi's book although I wish the rhetoric was not so straightforward.
Shibata's story is interspersed with acute social observations. To my mind, the portrayal of her workplace is intended as a bleak caricature not only of a Japanese company but of modern society in general. The conclusions are far from optimistic: The office was a swamp. Not a deep one. But one that let off a weird-smelling gas all year round.
I liked being subtly manipulated by Emi Yagi — the author blends the borderline between reality and Shibata's dreams truly deftly. I found interesting the way the symbol of the void was used in the novel. To my mind, it refers not only to the emptiness of the protagonist's uterus but also to the emotional vacuum in which she is floating, seemingly being perfectly fine. Emi Yagi's depiction of Shibata's loneliness is devastating despite the calm, down-to-earth, sometimes eerily hilarious tone of her narration.
Image by Laura Steerman, an Irish artist, who creates paintings using ultrasound images.
[Source.]
March 2, 2023
Even if it's a lie, it's a place of my own. That's why I'm going to keep it. It doesn't need to be a big lie - just big enough for one person. And if I can hold on to that lie inside my heart, if I can keep repeating it to myself, it might lead me somewhere. Somewhere else, somewhere different. If I can do that, maybe I'll change a little, and maybe the world will, too.
°。°。°
when i saw the premise, i had to pick this one up. rather than the diary of a japanese woman's pregnancy, it's the diary of a ruse. sick of being mistreated in her misogynistic workplace, shibata tells her company she is pregnant. her work duties are decreased, and she absurdly keeps the game going for all 40 weeks of her "pregnancy." we get to see everyone's bizarre reactions, many of the strange cultural elements surrounding pregnancy, as well as shibata's slowly shifting mental state as she begins to believe her own lie.
and there are such intense psychological effects of the charade! shibata describes pregnancy as an experience of "such luxury, such loneliness." suddenly she has a wealth of free time, but nothing new to fill it with, beyond deeper, slower enjoyment of her daily life. i really loved watching her mindset change over the course of the "pregnancy." she prays to the virgin mary, and god, what power to think that maybe she can manifest a child within herself, if she truly believes.
the book feels distinctly japanese, like much japanese literature, but considering the unique story, it made me wonder. how would the plot play out in different cultural contexts? i think there could be vastly different versions within many different cultures. for example, i was struck by how much emphasis there is on shibata's weight and body image, both internally and externally. she is obsessed with it herself, and she receives many inappropriate comments from others about her body. i imagine this could play out differently in other contexts, because in many cultures isn't it considered healthy for a pregnant woman to put on weight to nourish the baby? shibata's experience of intensive prenatal aerobics classes seems wild!
the book, at its core, feels like a book about loneliness. shibata has friends, but feels detached from them. she is a loner in the workplace. she is a single woman who in reality does not have a baby on the way. throughout the book, there are many sequences where she pensively observes interactions of others, entirely from the outside: sisterly teens folding origami together on the bus. a drunken group of friends passing through a city street at night, their laughter echoing down the block. during a snowstorm, curtains across the street being drawn to keep the cozy warmth inside. shibata does not feel sorry for herself, but she sees the companionship she does not have.
I wondered what all those people were doing under this snow. Maybe they were shivering in a cab they'd finally caught, or making or waiting for dinner, staring out the window, commenting on the snow and sipping hot chocolate. Maybe that's what making a family is all about: creating an environment in which people make space for one another - maybe without even trying, just naturally, to make sure that nobody's forgotten.
March 7, 2023
I like it a lot. This feminist novel about a woman who fakes a pregnancy for her co-workers reminded me of "Convenience store woman". I didn't know if I should laugh or be worried, but I was always intrigued by the possibilities.
January 2, 2023
:/ this was a bit of a dud for me.
It was interesting reading Emi Yagi’s Diary of a Void in the same month as Sayaka Murata’s Convenience Store Woman which, together almost feel like quirky parallel tales of women who are disconnected and struggling with constantly bumping up against the social constructs and mores of Japanese society. In ``Convenience Store Woman” no one in the narrator’s life can wrap their heads around her career choices and her decision to deviate from what a “typical” Japanese woman should want; contrast that with Diary of a Void which centers on Shibata who in an effort to get everyone in her office to pitch in more and not leave all the menial undesired tasks to her, hatches a plan to fake a pregnancy. Not only do her co-workers seemingly pull a 180 in terms of showing her kindness, respect and assistance but she also finds that her life fills in, in ways that she could not have seen coming. By the end what is “real” and what is invented is hard to distinguish for both Shibata and definitely for the reader.
It feels a bit easy to reach for the “this should have just been a short story” criticism but I do think the premise this book is reliant on wears out its welcome within the first 75 pages and even if it only clocks in at less than 225 pages in total, I’m not gonna lie, it began to feel like a total slog as it sort of meandered meaninglessly to its conclusion. I think part of the issue (at least hindering MY enjoyment of the book) is that Shibata is another sort of colorless robotic narrator and I just didn’t find anything at all to connect in with her. I would have loved to have understood a bit more about what all was underneath her decision to fake (and continue to keep up) her pregnancy which…I suppose the book is trying to answer but I felt there were never any concrete conclusions so it just left me fairly cold and (honestly?) bored. It was interesting reading some of the positive reviews for the book, I would go over this excellently worded and pitched summaries and themes covered in the book and just scratch my head like “I think that’s what the book wants to be but that was so so far away from anything it delivered on”
It was interesting reading Emi Yagi’s Diary of a Void in the same month as Sayaka Murata’s Convenience Store Woman which, together almost feel like quirky parallel tales of women who are disconnected and struggling with constantly bumping up against the social constructs and mores of Japanese society. In ``Convenience Store Woman” no one in the narrator’s life can wrap their heads around her career choices and her decision to deviate from what a “typical” Japanese woman should want; contrast that with Diary of a Void which centers on Shibata who in an effort to get everyone in her office to pitch in more and not leave all the menial undesired tasks to her, hatches a plan to fake a pregnancy. Not only do her co-workers seemingly pull a 180 in terms of showing her kindness, respect and assistance but she also finds that her life fills in, in ways that she could not have seen coming. By the end what is “real” and what is invented is hard to distinguish for both Shibata and definitely for the reader.
It feels a bit easy to reach for the “this should have just been a short story” criticism but I do think the premise this book is reliant on wears out its welcome within the first 75 pages and even if it only clocks in at less than 225 pages in total, I’m not gonna lie, it began to feel like a total slog as it sort of meandered meaninglessly to its conclusion. I think part of the issue (at least hindering MY enjoyment of the book) is that Shibata is another sort of colorless robotic narrator and I just didn’t find anything at all to connect in with her. I would have loved to have understood a bit more about what all was underneath her decision to fake (and continue to keep up) her pregnancy which…I suppose the book is trying to answer but I felt there were never any concrete conclusions so it just left me fairly cold and (honestly?) bored. It was interesting reading some of the positive reviews for the book, I would go over this excellently worded and pitched summaries and themes covered in the book and just scratch my head like “I think that’s what the book wants to be but that was so so far away from anything it delivered on”
December 23, 2023
4.25/5
To było tak dobre!
To było tak dobre!
March 19, 2023
Captivating, defiant, and triumphant, Diary of a Void is an engrossing account of loneliness and fulfillment in contemporary Japan. Our narrator is funny, sarcastic, and resilient; what begins as a white lie to avoid sexist and meaningless tasks at work becomes a journey of self discovery and pursuit of happiness. Filled with small joys and findings, we travel with Shibata as she breaks the mold of overwork and invisibility, we see through her eyes the unexpected wonders of living a life on your own terms. Diary of a Void is a wonderfully entertaining chronicle of transformation and courage, a uniquely enticing call to fall in love with your life.
April 26, 2023
A strange, thought-provoking book. Definitely one I'd recommend.
December 8, 2022
mmm interesting
Read
December 3, 2022Emi Yagi’s delicately wrought debut novel Diary of a Void is about the allure of alternate lives. The protagonist Ms. Shibata’s imaginary baby is the brainchild of curiosity: what would happen if she left the conference room a mess after a big meeting? Since starting her mundane office job at a Tokyo paper-core manufacturing company, becoming the only woman in a sea of men, she’s been expected to do little things outside of her job description: make coffee for everyone during a client visit, replenish the printer ink, tidy up around the office. Small tasks that, when combined, equal a second workload.
One fateful morning she decides to test if any of her coworkers will take over the cleanup if she doesn’t handle it as usual. Will the grown men pick up after themselves unprompted? The answer becomes clear when Shibata’s section head approaches her, requesting her help with the coffee cups. Maybe it’s silent rage, maybe her patience has just run out, because she lies, saying she can’t take care of the mess because the smell of the old coffee triggers her morning sickness. “And that’s how I became pregnant,” she explains.
Her fake pregnancy lies at the center of Diary of a Void, collaboratively translated from the Japanese by David Boyd and Lucy North, though we’re frequently tempted to forget there’s no baby on the way.
Click here to read the rest of my review in the Harvard Review.
One fateful morning she decides to test if any of her coworkers will take over the cleanup if she doesn’t handle it as usual. Will the grown men pick up after themselves unprompted? The answer becomes clear when Shibata’s section head approaches her, requesting her help with the coffee cups. Maybe it’s silent rage, maybe her patience has just run out, because she lies, saying she can’t take care of the mess because the smell of the old coffee triggers her morning sickness. “And that’s how I became pregnant,” she explains.
Her fake pregnancy lies at the center of Diary of a Void, collaboratively translated from the Japanese by David Boyd and Lucy North, though we’re frequently tempted to forget there’s no baby on the way.
Click here to read the rest of my review in the Harvard Review.
July 13, 2024
حتى في اليابان المفروض من الست في الشغل تكون مسئولة عن الشاي والقهوة وغسيل الاكواب وترتيب المكان!!!
لم تتحمل البطلة هذا الوضع فلجأت لفكرة طريفة.. ادعت الحمل برغم كونها غير متزوجة!!
عاشت التجربة بشكل حقيقي للغاية حتى أنها أخذت إجازة للولادة، الغريب أنهم لم يطلبوا منها أي وثائق رسمية في العمل تثبت ولادتها😁😁
رواية هادئة تناقش اوضاع المرأة ومشاكلها - التي تشبه المرأة المصرية إلى حد كبير - في العمل والزواج ورعاية الأطفال.
لم تتحمل البطلة هذا الوضع فلجأت لفكرة طريفة.. ادعت الحمل برغم كونها غير متزوجة!!
عاشت التجربة بشكل حقيقي للغاية حتى أنها أخذت إجازة للولادة، الغريب أنهم لم يطلبوا منها أي وثائق رسمية في العمل تثبت ولادتها😁😁
رواية هادئة تناقش اوضاع المرأة ومشاكلها - التي تشبه المرأة المصرية إلى حد كبير - في العمل والزواج ورعاية الأطفال.
September 5, 2022
Imagine being the only woman in your workplace and you are expected to handle all of the tedious works in your office such as preparing drinks, throwing out garbage, and clearing out rotten food from the fridge . What would you do: resign, protest or ignore? No, you fake a pregnancy. Like what Ms. Shibata did in this novel.
Diary of A Void was such a joy to read. It charmed and entertained me, and by the end, confused me (in a good way). Emi Yagi writes about work culture in which “everybody looked ill - like they were having liver problems” as well as a work culture that perpetuates traditional gender roles, resulting in Ms Shibata performing all of the menial jobs in her office. Part of this novel is also an exploration of how mothers are always expected to be the “full-time parent” and of the parental roles as well as dynamics in taking care of a child.
“Having a baby isn’t easy. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. It’s been two thousand years, and it’s the same old story, right?”
As the novel progressed, the story takes on an unsettling quality when Ms Shibata felt “something warm wriggling inside her”, and by the end of the book, I too wasn’t sure what was real and what was not. Overall, I had such a fun time reading this. I laughed, I reflected and most of all as a fellow woman, I related. Thank you Pansing for the review copy, I really appreciate it.
Diary of A Void was such a joy to read. It charmed and entertained me, and by the end, confused me (in a good way). Emi Yagi writes about work culture in which “everybody looked ill - like they were having liver problems” as well as a work culture that perpetuates traditional gender roles, resulting in Ms Shibata performing all of the menial jobs in her office. Part of this novel is also an exploration of how mothers are always expected to be the “full-time parent” and of the parental roles as well as dynamics in taking care of a child.
“Having a baby isn’t easy. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. It’s been two thousand years, and it’s the same old story, right?”
As the novel progressed, the story takes on an unsettling quality when Ms Shibata felt “something warm wriggling inside her”, and by the end of the book, I too wasn’t sure what was real and what was not. Overall, I had such a fun time reading this. I laughed, I reflected and most of all as a fellow woman, I related. Thank you Pansing for the review copy, I really appreciate it.
October 6, 2021
Die Idee zu diesem Buch ist schon genial: Shibata ist eine Frau Mitte 30, die in einem Unternehmen arbeitet, wo Frauen wenig beachtet werden. Als sie eines Tages wieder zu Tätigkeiten verdonnert wird, wofür sich die Männer zu fein sind, behauptet sie einfach, dass sie schwanger ist und zieht es knallhart durch. Was als nächstes folgt ist ein Porträt des heutigen Japans und die Rolle der Frau in ihm. Es ist manchmal zum Schmunzeln, manchmal zum Schreien und die Ehrlichkeit hinter der Sprache ist erheiternd und verstörend zugleich. Was mir besonders gefallen hat, war wie die Autorin die Atmosphäre und Gedankenwelt von Frauen so gut eingefangen hat. Für meinen Geschmack hätte es zum Ende hin noch verdrehter sein können, aber so war es auch in Ordnung. Besonders empfehlenswert für die, die sich für die japanische Literatur und Japans Gesellschaft interessieren.
** Dieses Buch wurde mir über NetGalley als E-Book zur Verfügung gestellt **
** Dieses Buch wurde mir über NetGalley als E-Book zur Verfügung gestellt **
January 19, 2023
Another from the Mookse group's favourites of 2022 list, this Japansese debut novel starts from a striking premise, that its narrator, fed up with being regarded as her office's menial servant, decides to feign pregnancy to improve her status. The story is mostly told in a matter of fact way that exposes the prejudices of her society. The tension builds as the supposed pregnancy approaches its full term.
August 28, 2023
Diary of a Void is a novella about a woman who fakes a pregnancy in order to get better treatment at work, but ends up being caught up in the web of her lies.
The book is read as a diary, as our hero recounts week by week her experience as a pregnant working woman. However, the writing style and the narration were boring, and felt like it was jumping from one event to the other.
Also, things got confusing towards the ending, especially after her visit to the doctor. And that twist wasn't even explained in the end.
The book is read as a diary, as our hero recounts week by week her experience as a pregnant working woman. However, the writing style and the narration were boring, and felt like it was jumping from one event to the other.
Also, things got confusing towards the ending, especially after her visit to the doctor. And that twist wasn't even explained in the end.
September 1, 2023
What I like about Japanese novels is that they're short.
Diary of a Void is a short novel, written in a simple, matter-of-fact way, from the point of view of the thirty-four-year-old office worker, Ms Shabata. She's the only woman in the office, so by default, she ended up being the one to serve the coffee, clean the meeting rooms, the stinky refrigerator in the common kitchen etc. She's fed up with it. So when she asks someone else to clean up after a meeting, the men are puzzled, so she tells them she's pregnant and that the coffee smell makes her nauseous. And so it begins. Ms Shabata doesn't do things by halves, she goes into it with gusto. Will she be found out? You'll have to read.
This was sold as "feminist literature" - maybe it is, although in a very subtle, non-confrontational way, to the point that the oblivious men don't even know what's going on or that the women are unhappy, which in turn, it results in no real social changes.
Every Japanese novel I read in recent years portrays the loneliness and alienation felt by its characters. Who knows when and if they'll ever wake up to the fact that all work and no play makes people unhappy - for all the modernity and conveniences of modern life, the Japanese are conservative and deeply rooted in tradition. It's so sad. They need a revolution, but who's going to raise up when they're all so busy working?
Diary of a Void is a short novel, written in a simple, matter-of-fact way, from the point of view of the thirty-four-year-old office worker, Ms Shabata. She's the only woman in the office, so by default, she ended up being the one to serve the coffee, clean the meeting rooms, the stinky refrigerator in the common kitchen etc. She's fed up with it. So when she asks someone else to clean up after a meeting, the men are puzzled, so she tells them she's pregnant and that the coffee smell makes her nauseous. And so it begins. Ms Shabata doesn't do things by halves, she goes into it with gusto. Will she be found out? You'll have to read.
This was sold as "feminist literature" - maybe it is, although in a very subtle, non-confrontational way, to the point that the oblivious men don't even know what's going on or that the women are unhappy, which in turn, it results in no real social changes.
Every Japanese novel I read in recent years portrays the loneliness and alienation felt by its characters. Who knows when and if they'll ever wake up to the fact that all work and no play makes people unhappy - for all the modernity and conveniences of modern life, the Japanese are conservative and deeply rooted in tradition. It's so sad. They need a revolution, but who's going to raise up when they're all so busy working?
July 23, 2024
1/5 ⭐️ This was honestly one of the most boring books I’ve ever read. The writing was also just too matter-of-fact for my liking. I just did not enjoy it at all.
February 4, 2023
"I just thought you looked a little pale."
“I'm fine. It's nothing, really."
Nothing. It's true. And that's why I keep on making empty cores. Sometimes I wonder if the world really needs all these paper cores, but the orders keep coming in, so we keep making them.
Diary of a Void is David Boyd and Lucy North's translation of Emi Yagi's 2020 novel 空芯手帳 which won the Dazai Osamu Prize for debut stories.
A helpful translator's note explains that the original title is a play on the 母子手帳, the Maternal and Child Health Handbook issued to all pregnant mothers - the English Red Book would be a closer equivalent than diary (or handbook) although wouldn't convey the more gendered nature of the original. And in the title the 母子 (mother and child) is replaced by 空芯 - empty core (rendered as empty void in the English title) which plays on both the narrator's true condition, and the factory in which she works.
Our female narrator, Shibata, opens her first chapter 'week 5' but then tells us a few paragraphs in 'I got pregnant 4 days ago.' She is an office worker for a company that deals in paper cores having left her previous job after being sexually harrassed by a client, her boss responding to her complaints by suggesting that he could join them in a threesome. She is the sole woman employee in her section, which means that others look to her for certain basic tasks.
One day she is admonished for not having clear the coffee cups after a meeting she didn't even attend and, confronted with a room full of coffee dregs infested with cigarette butts (from my own office cleaning days of some decades ago, a truly disgusting combination of two of my least favourite things) decides on the spur of the moment to rebel, and, inventing an excuse, announces she can't possibly clean the cups as she is suffering from morning sickness.
The department rather go into panic as they've had few female employees before and none who worked through pregnancy, so if anything over accommodate in terms of her demands, their main counterrequest that she right a detailed manual on how to make their instant coffee.
Shibata - and the novel - has some fun in the first part of the story with the ruses she has to pull to maintain her pretence, e.g. suddenly realising she can't use the main company bathrooms (there are female employees in other sections) when she has her period, or having to choose a name. [As an aside I was surprised at the Japanese custom of choosing a name before the baby is born - like the equally odd UK practice].
As soon as I told Higashinakano it was a boy, he started asking me, at least once every three days, whether I’d decided on a name. My attempts to head him off—“I’m still thinking about it,” “I’d better wait until I see his face”—only made him more insistent.
...
It was essential that I choose a name before Higashinakano chose one for me. Any name would do, as long as it sounded convincing enough. There was a bookstore not too far from the office. At lunch, I headed straight there to check out the maternity magazines.
...
It turns out that a wide variety of factors come into play when picking a name for a baby. How it sounds, the meaning of the kanji These were obvious. But some people gave a lot of thought to stroke count, took a character from their own name, or made some reference to the season of the baby’s birth. I had to wonder about s me of the things I was reading. For example, the idea that names that start with s sound “soft,” and names that start with m sound “manly.” That didn’t sound right to me. I’d come across tons of s names that didn’t sound soft at all. One magazine was saying that seasonal references were really popular these days. Well, that probably did make it easier to explain where your name came from. My brother was born on Ocean Day and my parents named him Kaito, with the characters for “ocean” and “person,” but he ended up hating it. He had never learned to swim, despised summer, and all the kids at school were always calling him “Aquaman.”
...
When I got out of the elevator, jam-packed with people coming back from lunch, I approached my desk and saw Higashinakano wrap up his bento box before putting it away. That piece of paper was laid out on his desk. Was he thinking about it again?
“Hey, just so you know, I’ve decided on a name,” I said before he could get anything out. I pretended not to see the paper. “His name’s going to be Sorato. Sorato Shibata. Sorato, with two kanji: the first for ‘sky,’ or ‘air,’ like ‘‘out of thin air,’ and the second for ‘person.’”
Higashinakano repeated the name over and over under his breath, then wrote it out in the space between us with his finger and nodded, a pleased look on his face.
“Sorato. Sorato Shibata. Yes! What a wonderful name!”
This is marketed in the UK as “perfect for fans of Convenience Store Woman and Breasts and Eggs”, and it is certainly another interesting novel in that genre. It isn't as strong as the former, but shares an issue with the latter which would have been better as the original novella without the second part. Here, the novel can't really sustain the 'convincing people you're pregnant when you aren't' fun for its full length, and while it may have been better as a novella, it takes a rather different turn after Shibata finds herself facing a picture of the Virgin Mary and starts to believe she actually is pregnant. I must admit to finding Mary's invocation a little troubling, and this second part of the novel worked less well for me, although the author does use the device to make points about gendered expectations of roles.
Overall - a 2.5 star read for me. I'd be a little surprised to see this on the International Booker list in quality terms, although it would be a book that would get readers talking.
“I'm fine. It's nothing, really."
Nothing. It's true. And that's why I keep on making empty cores. Sometimes I wonder if the world really needs all these paper cores, but the orders keep coming in, so we keep making them.
Diary of a Void is David Boyd and Lucy North's translation of Emi Yagi's 2020 novel 空芯手帳 which won the Dazai Osamu Prize for debut stories.
A helpful translator's note explains that the original title is a play on the 母子手帳, the Maternal and Child Health Handbook issued to all pregnant mothers - the English Red Book would be a closer equivalent than diary (or handbook) although wouldn't convey the more gendered nature of the original. And in the title the 母子 (mother and child) is replaced by 空芯 - empty core (rendered as empty void in the English title) which plays on both the narrator's true condition, and the factory in which she works.
Our female narrator, Shibata, opens her first chapter 'week 5' but then tells us a few paragraphs in 'I got pregnant 4 days ago.' She is an office worker for a company that deals in paper cores having left her previous job after being sexually harrassed by a client, her boss responding to her complaints by suggesting that he could join them in a threesome. She is the sole woman employee in her section, which means that others look to her for certain basic tasks.
One day she is admonished for not having clear the coffee cups after a meeting she didn't even attend and, confronted with a room full of coffee dregs infested with cigarette butts (from my own office cleaning days of some decades ago, a truly disgusting combination of two of my least favourite things) decides on the spur of the moment to rebel, and, inventing an excuse, announces she can't possibly clean the cups as she is suffering from morning sickness.
The department rather go into panic as they've had few female employees before and none who worked through pregnancy, so if anything over accommodate in terms of her demands, their main counterrequest that she right a detailed manual on how to make their instant coffee.
Shibata - and the novel - has some fun in the first part of the story with the ruses she has to pull to maintain her pretence, e.g. suddenly realising she can't use the main company bathrooms (there are female employees in other sections) when she has her period, or having to choose a name. [As an aside I was surprised at the Japanese custom of choosing a name before the baby is born - like the equally odd UK practice].
As soon as I told Higashinakano it was a boy, he started asking me, at least once every three days, whether I’d decided on a name. My attempts to head him off—“I’m still thinking about it,” “I’d better wait until I see his face”—only made him more insistent.
...
It was essential that I choose a name before Higashinakano chose one for me. Any name would do, as long as it sounded convincing enough. There was a bookstore not too far from the office. At lunch, I headed straight there to check out the maternity magazines.
...
It turns out that a wide variety of factors come into play when picking a name for a baby. How it sounds, the meaning of the kanji These were obvious. But some people gave a lot of thought to stroke count, took a character from their own name, or made some reference to the season of the baby’s birth. I had to wonder about s me of the things I was reading. For example, the idea that names that start with s sound “soft,” and names that start with m sound “manly.” That didn’t sound right to me. I’d come across tons of s names that didn’t sound soft at all. One magazine was saying that seasonal references were really popular these days. Well, that probably did make it easier to explain where your name came from. My brother was born on Ocean Day and my parents named him Kaito, with the characters for “ocean” and “person,” but he ended up hating it. He had never learned to swim, despised summer, and all the kids at school were always calling him “Aquaman.”
...
When I got out of the elevator, jam-packed with people coming back from lunch, I approached my desk and saw Higashinakano wrap up his bento box before putting it away. That piece of paper was laid out on his desk. Was he thinking about it again?
“Hey, just so you know, I’ve decided on a name,” I said before he could get anything out. I pretended not to see the paper. “His name’s going to be Sorato. Sorato Shibata. Sorato, with two kanji: the first for ‘sky,’ or ‘air,’ like ‘‘out of thin air,’ and the second for ‘person.’”
Higashinakano repeated the name over and over under his breath, then wrote it out in the space between us with his finger and nodded, a pleased look on his face.
“Sorato. Sorato Shibata. Yes! What a wonderful name!”
This is marketed in the UK as “perfect for fans of Convenience Store Woman and Breasts and Eggs”, and it is certainly another interesting novel in that genre. It isn't as strong as the former, but shares an issue with the latter which would have been better as the original novella without the second part. Here, the novel can't really sustain the 'convincing people you're pregnant when you aren't' fun for its full length, and while it may have been better as a novella, it takes a rather different turn after Shibata finds herself facing a picture of the Virgin Mary and starts to believe she actually is pregnant. I must admit to finding Mary's invocation a little troubling, and this second part of the novel worked less well for me, although the author does use the device to make points about gendered expectations of roles.
Overall - a 2.5 star read for me. I'd be a little surprised to see this on the International Booker list in quality terms, although it would be a book that would get readers talking.
August 13, 2022
So it started on the day when the section head muttered that the cups in the meeting room needed to be washed. Having deadline to meet and can't understand why she always had to do all the menial tasks in the department and deal with the messes they'd made, Shibata decided for a little experiment.
"I can't do it. I'm pregnant. The smell of coffee, it triggers my morning sickness.The cigarettes too..." And that's how Shibata became pregnant with Week 5 and counting.
Told in an epistolary format; a diary entry accordingly to her pregnancy week (as the Japanese title for this book echoes the Boshi techō; a maternal and child health handbook that enable mothers to document the chronicle of their pregnancies in Japan), it was so descriptively narrated, quite cunning yet so surreal and provocative. I like the combination of themes as it was not only revolves on the workplace discrimination, gender prejudice and womanhood in the patriarchal society but also tackles the issue in pregnancy (the hurdle to conceive and postpartum depression) and self existence.
Well structured with great 'imaginary' development and it amazes me on how Shibata really went all out in faking her pregnancy-- from planning her diet, getting maternity badge for subway to joining mommies aerobics and finding a good name for the baby. Love that throughout her journey she learns so much about her co-workers, meeting new friends, understanding behaviours and most of all; to stop misjudging.
The blurry line in between truth and lies quite captivating-- the absurdity gets too thrilled and tensed that at a point I wonder if it was true(?) esp when Week 32 ended with 'the baby's been kicking so much more lately' that she decided for a check-up later. Higashinakano's story was such a twist and Hosono too-- both were distressing yet so thoroughly explored.
Love how Shibata overcame the situation at the end with such a great aftermath to end her diary. Riveting and bold, a recommendation if you're searching for a social commentary premise but want it to be a light and joyful read. 4.3 stars to this!
Thank you Pansing Distribution for sending me a proof copy for review!
"I can't do it. I'm pregnant. The smell of coffee, it triggers my morning sickness.The cigarettes too..." And that's how Shibata became pregnant with Week 5 and counting.
Told in an epistolary format; a diary entry accordingly to her pregnancy week (as the Japanese title for this book echoes the Boshi techō; a maternal and child health handbook that enable mothers to document the chronicle of their pregnancies in Japan), it was so descriptively narrated, quite cunning yet so surreal and provocative. I like the combination of themes as it was not only revolves on the workplace discrimination, gender prejudice and womanhood in the patriarchal society but also tackles the issue in pregnancy (the hurdle to conceive and postpartum depression) and self existence.
Well structured with great 'imaginary' development and it amazes me on how Shibata really went all out in faking her pregnancy-- from planning her diet, getting maternity badge for subway to joining mommies aerobics and finding a good name for the baby. Love that throughout her journey she learns so much about her co-workers, meeting new friends, understanding behaviours and most of all; to stop misjudging.
The blurry line in between truth and lies quite captivating-- the absurdity gets too thrilled and tensed that at a point I wonder if it was true(?) esp when Week 32 ended with 'the baby's been kicking so much more lately' that she decided for a check-up later. Higashinakano's story was such a twist and Hosono too-- both were distressing yet so thoroughly explored.
Love how Shibata overcame the situation at the end with such a great aftermath to end her diary. Riveting and bold, a recommendation if you're searching for a social commentary premise but want it to be a light and joyful read. 4.3 stars to this!
Thank you Pansing Distribution for sending me a proof copy for review!
October 1, 2023
To była tak dobra książka! Nie spodziewałam się, że aż tak mnie zaangażuje..
January 10, 2023
“¿Mentimos para sentirnos menos solos?” Con semejante frase en su cubierta “Diario de un vacío” fija rápidamente lo que vamos a encontrar en esta extraña y atrapante novela. Shibata trabaja en un oficina donde es la única mujer, y esto ha provocado que el sistema machista y patriarcal que impera en el lugar le añada una gran carga de trabajo extra. Ella debe ser la encargada de servir el café para todos, limpiar la suciedad que todos echen en los espacios comunes, entregar el correo a cada uno..., en definitiva, cualquier trabajo que se considere servir a los demás, se da por hecho que es obligación suya. Un día está tan cansada de trabajar hasta la extenuación, de verse obligada a esta carga adicional, y sin ningún rato para dedicar a algo que le guste, que toma una drástica decisión: fingir un embarazo. Rápidamente Shibata logra safarse de toda esta carga y ve como el caos aparece: ningún hombre "sabe" como organizarse, ¿quién hará el café y lo servirá a partir de ahora?
“Diario de un vacio” de Emi Yagi es uno de los libros más raros que he leído este año. Es un libro que te deja desconcertado, que mantiene una nebulosa constante y que te hace cuestionarte todo el tiempo que está pasando, ¿está la protagonista fingiendo realmente un embarazo o está embarazada de verdad? ¿Las cosas que suceden son reales o fruto de su imaginación? ¿Es Shibata la persona más cuerda de su historia, o un sistema tan implacabe e injusto con las mujeres ha hecho mella en su cordura? Todas estas incógnitas consiguen que la novela te atrape desde la primera página hasta la última.
Encuentro muy gratificante que en la actualidad podamos dar con tantas autoras asiáticas con un corte feminista tan contundente en sus historias, dejando en evidencia el machismo de la sociedad en la que viven y esos roles aún tan marcados, con muros tan difíciles de derribar. Emi Yagi recurre a la naturalidad, a lo cotidiano del día a día, para mostrarnos cientos de situaciones machistas que Shibata u otros personajes femeninos sufren, y lo hace de una manera tan directa, tan sencilla, que consigue evidenciar aún más lo ridículas que estas son. Cuando sus compañeros de trabajo se enteran que está embarazada y su carga de trabajo debe ser reducida, el agobio se apodera de ellos, y la única solución que encuentran es convencer a una compañera de otra oficina para que acuda a servirles el café. ¡Cómo van a servirse ellos mismos el café! En efecto, una ridiculez tan extrema que resulta increíble que aún tengamos que seguir hablando de esto, pero sigue siendo necesario y por eso obras como “Diario de un vacío” tienen una importancia brutal porque muestran desde la sencillez y la obviedad, lo absurda e injusta que es está situación.
Otro tema bastante interesante que toca la novela es la desmitificación de la maternidad. La autora desromantiza esta idea de supermadre que todo lo puede, que nunca está cansada y solo siente felicidad por dar a luz. Muestra la carga extra de las mujeres ante la maternidad, como la sociedad entiende que esta solo es cosa de ellas, antes, durante y después, y como estas deben renunciar a gran parte de su vida para ejercerla. Hay ciertos comentarios de un personaje secundario que son para aplaudir hasta el infinito.
Finalmente el tema central del libro es la soledad, mostrando un sistema tan educado para aceptar y creer que el bien de la sociedad en su conjunto es lo más importante, que consigue que el individuo muera, y sus deseos y su propia vida queden relegados a un segundo plano. La protagonista con su decisión quiere huir de un sistema que la oprime en todos los sentidos posibles de la palabra, tratando de reconectar consigo misma y descubrir realmente quien es y que le hace disfrutar. Creo que esa soledad que siente Shibata es palpable durante toda la novela y es imposible no empatizar con ella a poco que reconozcas la sensación. El final es absolutamente desquiciante y te deja perplejo. Sin embargo, no dejo de darle vueltas a la historia desde el mismo segundo que la acabe, y habiendo pasado ya más de dos semanas, es de valorar. Me flipa cuando un libro consigue ese tipo de magia. Me ha costado decidir que nota ponerle, porque es muy raro, pero cuando esta magia se da, hasta las cinco son pocas estrellas. Me muero de ganas de leer algo más de Emi Yagi.
“Diario de un vacio” de Emi Yagi es uno de los libros más raros que he leído este año. Es un libro que te deja desconcertado, que mantiene una nebulosa constante y que te hace cuestionarte todo el tiempo que está pasando, ¿está la protagonista fingiendo realmente un embarazo o está embarazada de verdad? ¿Las cosas que suceden son reales o fruto de su imaginación? ¿Es Shibata la persona más cuerda de su historia, o un sistema tan implacabe e injusto con las mujeres ha hecho mella en su cordura? Todas estas incógnitas consiguen que la novela te atrape desde la primera página hasta la última.
Encuentro muy gratificante que en la actualidad podamos dar con tantas autoras asiáticas con un corte feminista tan contundente en sus historias, dejando en evidencia el machismo de la sociedad en la que viven y esos roles aún tan marcados, con muros tan difíciles de derribar. Emi Yagi recurre a la naturalidad, a lo cotidiano del día a día, para mostrarnos cientos de situaciones machistas que Shibata u otros personajes femeninos sufren, y lo hace de una manera tan directa, tan sencilla, que consigue evidenciar aún más lo ridículas que estas son. Cuando sus compañeros de trabajo se enteran que está embarazada y su carga de trabajo debe ser reducida, el agobio se apodera de ellos, y la única solución que encuentran es convencer a una compañera de otra oficina para que acuda a servirles el café. ¡Cómo van a servirse ellos mismos el café! En efecto, una ridiculez tan extrema que resulta increíble que aún tengamos que seguir hablando de esto, pero sigue siendo necesario y por eso obras como “Diario de un vacío” tienen una importancia brutal porque muestran desde la sencillez y la obviedad, lo absurda e injusta que es está situación.
Otro tema bastante interesante que toca la novela es la desmitificación de la maternidad. La autora desromantiza esta idea de supermadre que todo lo puede, que nunca está cansada y solo siente felicidad por dar a luz. Muestra la carga extra de las mujeres ante la maternidad, como la sociedad entiende que esta solo es cosa de ellas, antes, durante y después, y como estas deben renunciar a gran parte de su vida para ejercerla. Hay ciertos comentarios de un personaje secundario que son para aplaudir hasta el infinito.
Finalmente el tema central del libro es la soledad, mostrando un sistema tan educado para aceptar y creer que el bien de la sociedad en su conjunto es lo más importante, que consigue que el individuo muera, y sus deseos y su propia vida queden relegados a un segundo plano. La protagonista con su decisión quiere huir de un sistema que la oprime en todos los sentidos posibles de la palabra, tratando de reconectar consigo misma y descubrir realmente quien es y que le hace disfrutar. Creo que esa soledad que siente Shibata es palpable durante toda la novela y es imposible no empatizar con ella a poco que reconozcas la sensación. El final es absolutamente desquiciante y te deja perplejo. Sin embargo, no dejo de darle vueltas a la historia desde el mismo segundo que la acabe, y habiendo pasado ya más de dos semanas, es de valorar. Me flipa cuando un libro consigue ese tipo de magia. Me ha costado decidir que nota ponerle, porque es muy raro, pero cuando esta magia se da, hasta las cinco son pocas estrellas. Me muero de ganas de leer algo más de Emi Yagi.
January 14, 2024
3.5
a strange little novel about a lonely woman in her 30s, shibata, who pretends to be pregnant so she’s no longer lumped with all the menial tasks at her office job.
though shibata’s lie is at the forefront of the story, it is used as a vehicle to explore the number of inequalities that shibata is noticing in the world around her. as the only woman in the office, it’s an unsaid rule that she completes the jobs that women usually do in male-dominated workplaces, such as making coffee for everyone, cleaning up the staff kitchen etc. it is only when her coworkers believe she’s pregnant that this unequal treatment shifts a little, because now shibata is successfully completing her ‘role’ and ‘job’ as a woman: bearing a child.
the novel also touches on the hardships of pregnancy, motherhood, and the gender disparity of parenthood, with women still expected to be the primary caregiver while their husbands are praised for ‘helping out’ when they are simply just looking after their own child. the novel echoes similar messages i’ve read in books such as breasts and eggs, kim jiyoung, born 1982, and convenience store woman, but explores these themes with an added quirky flair.
a strange little novel about a lonely woman in her 30s, shibata, who pretends to be pregnant so she’s no longer lumped with all the menial tasks at her office job.
though shibata’s lie is at the forefront of the story, it is used as a vehicle to explore the number of inequalities that shibata is noticing in the world around her. as the only woman in the office, it’s an unsaid rule that she completes the jobs that women usually do in male-dominated workplaces, such as making coffee for everyone, cleaning up the staff kitchen etc. it is only when her coworkers believe she’s pregnant that this unequal treatment shifts a little, because now shibata is successfully completing her ‘role’ and ‘job’ as a woman: bearing a child.
the novel also touches on the hardships of pregnancy, motherhood, and the gender disparity of parenthood, with women still expected to be the primary caregiver while their husbands are praised for ‘helping out’ when they are simply just looking after their own child. the novel echoes similar messages i’ve read in books such as breasts and eggs, kim jiyoung, born 1982, and convenience store woman, but explores these themes with an added quirky flair.
January 4, 2024
"Even if it's a lie, it's a place of my own. That's why I'm going to keep it. It doesn't need to be a big lie - just big enough for one person. And if I can hold on to that lie inside my heart, if I can keep repeating it to myself, it might lead me somewhere. Somewhere else, somewhere different. If I can do that, maybe I'll change a little and maybe the world will, too."
an approach to contemporary japanese society and its attitude to work and family
i really appreciated the simplicity of this book !🤍
"As I wrote in my notebook, I wondered : How many other imaginary children were there in the world? And where are they now? [...] What were they doing? I hoped they were leading happy lives."
the subject of the book starts from a lie arising from discrimination at work, through the main character and the other characters we can observe the changes, despair and loneliness of women that appear during pregnancy or after
"So this is pregnancy. What luxury. What loneliness."
an approach to contemporary japanese society and its attitude to work and family
i really appreciated the simplicity of this book !🤍
"As I wrote in my notebook, I wondered : How many other imaginary children were there in the world? And where are they now? [...] What were they doing? I hoped they were leading happy lives."
the subject of the book starts from a lie arising from discrimination at work, through the main character and the other characters we can observe the changes, despair and loneliness of women that appear during pregnancy or after
"So this is pregnancy. What luxury. What loneliness."
March 18, 2022
Han pasado días hasta que me he visto medianamente capacitada para escribir esta reseña porque transmitir por escrito lo que Emi Yagi nos ofrece en su debut, es definitivamente una ardua y tortuosa tarea. “Diario de un vacío” fue publicada en 2020 y es una novela especialmente original, con una premisa atractiva y poseedora de una prosa ligera y fresca; menos de 200 páginas que pasan en un suspiro pero que dejan un poso de reflexión enorme.
En este libro escrito en forma de diario, seremos partícipes de un engaño: nuestra protagonista y narradora en primera persona, finge estar embarazada. Esta mentira nace del agobio, de la sensación opresiva e injusta en la que vive y trabaja, e indirectamente es una manera de rebelarse contra las convenciones. Con un toque irónico e incluso humorístico en ocasiones, la autora traza una trama entretenida, con diálogos y escenas memorables y la dota de un final que resulta magnífico a la par que extraño.
Estamos ante una lectura que desconcierta al lector, que nos muestra sin filtros ni decoros a la sociedad japonesa donde el rol imperativo de la mujer y su papel de cara a la maternidad y a las obligaciones familiares, están muy marcados y estipulados. Es ni más ni menos que un reflejo de la soledad que viven muchas mujeres por ser incapaces de romper las barreras impuestas y como, mintiendo y enmascarando una falsa realidad, pueden hacerse un hueco, formar parte de algo y ganarse su puesto y la atención y cariño de los demás.
La confusión que se siente al leer esta obra es tal que cuesta mucho discernir qué es real, dónde están los límites de las mentiras y si la verdadera solución a la soledad es mentir. Emi, tiene un estilo narrativo muy agudo y visual, nos ofrece una protagonista exquisita con la que resulta maravilloso desgranar sus pensamientos, desde que anuncia su embarazo hasta que logra dedicarse tiempo para sí misma con el acompañamiento del bebé fantasma que está creciendo en su interior.
En definitiva, nos hallamos ante una obra con un mensaje mucho más profundo de lo que de primeras parece. Una revolución, una voz alzada contra las injusticias abusivas que da alas al personaje para darse el tiempo y el espacio que merece y cuenta de lo que no debe volver a tolerar. Un grito, una lucha, un testimonio, unas vivencias de ficción que podrían ser reales.
En este libro escrito en forma de diario, seremos partícipes de un engaño: nuestra protagonista y narradora en primera persona, finge estar embarazada. Esta mentira nace del agobio, de la sensación opresiva e injusta en la que vive y trabaja, e indirectamente es una manera de rebelarse contra las convenciones. Con un toque irónico e incluso humorístico en ocasiones, la autora traza una trama entretenida, con diálogos y escenas memorables y la dota de un final que resulta magnífico a la par que extraño.
Estamos ante una lectura que desconcierta al lector, que nos muestra sin filtros ni decoros a la sociedad japonesa donde el rol imperativo de la mujer y su papel de cara a la maternidad y a las obligaciones familiares, están muy marcados y estipulados. Es ni más ni menos que un reflejo de la soledad que viven muchas mujeres por ser incapaces de romper las barreras impuestas y como, mintiendo y enmascarando una falsa realidad, pueden hacerse un hueco, formar parte de algo y ganarse su puesto y la atención y cariño de los demás.
La confusión que se siente al leer esta obra es tal que cuesta mucho discernir qué es real, dónde están los límites de las mentiras y si la verdadera solución a la soledad es mentir. Emi, tiene un estilo narrativo muy agudo y visual, nos ofrece una protagonista exquisita con la que resulta maravilloso desgranar sus pensamientos, desde que anuncia su embarazo hasta que logra dedicarse tiempo para sí misma con el acompañamiento del bebé fantasma que está creciendo en su interior.
En definitiva, nos hallamos ante una obra con un mensaje mucho más profundo de lo que de primeras parece. Una revolución, una voz alzada contra las injusticias abusivas que da alas al personaje para darse el tiempo y el espacio que merece y cuenta de lo que no debe volver a tolerar. Un grito, una lucha, un testimonio, unas vivencias de ficción que podrían ser reales.
April 14, 2024
nine months of magical thinking
November 1, 2024
إلى أي مدى قد تستمر الكذبة ؟
حين تبدأ كذبة صغيرة قد يتوجب عليك أن تستمر في الكذبة حتى النهاية وحينها ستحتاج لجمع كل المعلومات ع�� كذبتك ��تى يصدقك الآخرون .
لكن ..
قد تصل بك الأمور أن تصدق انت نفسك هذه الكذبة ويصدقك جسدك ليعيش كل التفاصيل وكأنها حقيقة .
شيباتا تمثل وتقدم لنا جزء ما تراه المرأة في بيئة العمل .
فكونك فتاة معناه أن تقومي بأعمال المنزل هنا أيضا في العمل ، فلتقومي بإعداد القهوة وتنظيف المكان بجانب مهام عملك الأخري. أعتقد أن اغلب الفتيات واجهت هذا الأمر.
شيباتا تجد نفسها في أحد الأيام حين فاض بها الكيل من هذا الأمر أن تقول أنها حامل وان رائحة القهوة والسجائر تصيبها بالغثيان لتبدأ بعدها حياتها في التغير وتبدأ في العودة لمنزلها في الموعد الرسمي دون عمل إضافي فتجد لنفسها الوقت لفعل الكثير من الأشياء. وتتخلص أخيرا من المهام الإضافية ليبدأ الآخرين أخيرا في القيام بها .
لكن تجد نفسها بعد ذلك في حاجة لمعرفة التغيرات التى تحدث في كل مراحل الحمل وتبدأ متابعة كل شئ وكأنها حامل بالفعل . وهنا تعرض لنا جزء من معاناة الأمهات وصعوبات الأمومة.
لكن ماذا سيحدث مع شيباتا وإلى أين ستأخذها هذه الكذبة ؟!
الرواية خفيفة واسلوبها سلس وبسيط وترجمة رنا يوسف كانت جيدة .
ربما بالرواية بعض الأشياء غير المنطقية خاصة جزء الطبيب لكن من الممكن التغاضي عنه .
وبالنسبة لما حدث معها هي شخصياً فأعتقد كما قلت في البداية حين تخبر الاخرين بكذبة قد يصل بك الأمر ان تصدق أنت نفسك هذه الكذبة .
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حين تبدأ كذبة صغيرة قد يتوجب عليك أن تستمر في الكذبة حتى النهاية وحينها ستحتاج لجمع كل المعلومات ع�� كذبتك ��تى يصدقك الآخرون .
لكن ..
قد تصل بك الأمور أن تصدق انت نفسك هذه الكذبة ويصدقك جسدك ليعيش كل التفاصيل وكأنها حقيقة .
شيباتا تمثل وتقدم لنا جزء ما تراه المرأة في بيئة العمل .
فكونك فتاة معناه أن تقومي بأعمال المنزل هنا أيضا في العمل ، فلتقومي بإعداد القهوة وتنظيف المكان بجانب مهام عملك الأخري. أعتقد أن اغلب الفتيات واجهت هذا الأمر.
شيباتا تجد نفسها في أحد الأيام حين فاض بها الكيل من هذا الأمر أن تقول أنها حامل وان رائحة القهوة والسجائر تصيبها بالغثيان لتبدأ بعدها حياتها في التغير وتبدأ في العودة لمنزلها في الموعد الرسمي دون عمل إضافي فتجد لنفسها الوقت لفعل الكثير من الأشياء. وتتخلص أخيرا من المهام الإضافية ليبدأ الآخرين أخيرا في القيام بها .
لكن تجد نفسها بعد ذلك في حاجة لمعرفة التغيرات التى تحدث في كل مراحل الحمل وتبدأ متابعة كل شئ وكأنها حامل بالفعل . وهنا تعرض لنا جزء من معاناة الأمهات وصعوبات الأمومة.
لكن ماذا سيحدث مع شيباتا وإلى أين ستأخذها هذه الكذبة ؟!
الرواية خفيفة واسلوبها سلس وبسيط وترجمة رنا يوسف كانت جيدة .
ربما بالرواية بعض الأشياء غير المنطقية خاصة جزء الطبيب لكن من الممكن التغاضي عنه .
وبالنسبة لما حدث معها هي شخصياً فأعتقد كما قلت في البداية حين تخبر الاخرين بكذبة قد يصل بك الأمر ان تصدق أنت نفسك هذه الكذبة .
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