When I decided to read "Real World" by Natsuo Kirino I was looking at it online, and I wanted it right now so I drove over to the Grove, the only Barnes & Noble in L.A. that I could find had it in stock. It was only after I bought it that I read a blurb on the back cover that would have sold me on the book twice over: the Plains Dealer describing it as a "feminist noir."
The story of "Real World" is simple: most of it is told from the points-of-view of four Japanese girls who befriend--or at least are fascinated--by a boy, called Worm, who has killed his mother.
The female characters here are fascinating--especially Kirarin, who is seemingly the least depressed of the four leads and yet seems to have the most depth, a girl who comes across to her friends as naive and cute, but secretly sleeps around, is heartbroken by an ex-boyfriend but for much of the novel manages to keep her wits and self-regard about her. All four narrators--Yuzan, the closeted lesbian; Terauchi and Toshi--have enough psychological depths to be wholly believable. Kirarin could merit her own blog post, but in terms of tropes I can definitely latch on to, the character of Worm interests me.
I've sympathized with monsters in literature before: Alex in "A Clockwork Orange" because of the seductiveness of his narrative voice; Patrick Bateman, because of our shared appreciation of Huey Lewis & the News. Walter White is from TV, but is still a good example. However: Worm is unlike any of these: he's never likeable. In the first chapter that he narratives, he's somewhat understandable, if clearly a little cuckoo. There is no justification for his crime of matricide, but there is some rather Freudian rationale behind it involving sex-shaming. You can see why he might snap: he's not likeable, but he's more pitiable than despicable.
As the story progresses, however, he gets much worse in a way where you wonder if he was always that bad--if it's just now that his darkness is getting unleashed--or if he's been driven by the situation he's in (on the run after killing his mother) to explore and create new impulses of paranoia and bloodlust, as though he has crossed a line, realized that the situation can't get worse and then decided to get creative with his darker instincts.
Of course, it's always worth pointing out that the word "evil" is a cop-out in any kind of criticism. It vanquishes the impulse to understand, it becomes a denial of that aspect of humanity. Hearing that a character is "evil" tell me nothing, except about the person who describes him that way. Better to say that worm becomes a conglomeration of violent and misogynistic thoughts operating as a jaundiced ego--verbose as that description is, it's more insightful than to just call him evil.
"Real World" is a fantastic book, like a more earnest "Less Than Zero" (plus murder) or a darker "Perks of Being a Wallflower" (plus murder); the only Japanese novel I can think of comparing it to is "The Sailor who fell from Grace with the Sea" by Yukio Mishima, on the grounds that both delve into the darkness in the heart of young people--but "Real World" is much more of a page-turner, less didactic and more exciting in a way that doesn't cheapen the trauma. It plays out less as a conventional thriller and more as a compelling drama about thoughts you don't share in polite company. I've always enjoyed Japanese literature and am embarrassed that I haven't gotten around to Natsuo Kirino sooner.
The story of "Real World" is simple: most of it is told from the points-of-view of four Japanese girls who befriend--or at least are fascinated--by a boy, called Worm, who has killed his mother.
The female characters here are fascinating--especially Kirarin, who is seemingly the least depressed of the four leads and yet seems to have the most depth, a girl who comes across to her friends as naive and cute, but secretly sleeps around, is heartbroken by an ex-boyfriend but for much of the novel manages to keep her wits and self-regard about her. All four narrators--Yuzan, the closeted lesbian; Terauchi and Toshi--have enough psychological depths to be wholly believable. Kirarin could merit her own blog post, but in terms of tropes I can definitely latch on to, the character of Worm interests me.
I've sympathized with monsters in literature before: Alex in "A Clockwork Orange" because of the seductiveness of his narrative voice; Patrick Bateman, because of our shared appreciation of Huey Lewis & the News. Walter White is from TV, but is still a good example. However: Worm is unlike any of these: he's never likeable. In the first chapter that he narratives, he's somewhat understandable, if clearly a little cuckoo. There is no justification for his crime of matricide, but there is some rather Freudian rationale behind it involving sex-shaming. You can see why he might snap: he's not likeable, but he's more pitiable than despicable.
As the story progresses, however, he gets much worse in a way where you wonder if he was always that bad--if it's just now that his darkness is getting unleashed--or if he's been driven by the situation he's in (on the run after killing his mother) to explore and create new impulses of paranoia and bloodlust, as though he has crossed a line, realized that the situation can't get worse and then decided to get creative with his darker instincts.
Of course, it's always worth pointing out that the word "evil" is a cop-out in any kind of criticism. It vanquishes the impulse to understand, it becomes a denial of that aspect of humanity. Hearing that a character is "evil" tell me nothing, except about the person who describes him that way. Better to say that worm becomes a conglomeration of violent and misogynistic thoughts operating as a jaundiced ego--verbose as that description is, it's more insightful than to just call him evil.
Natsuo Kirino
"Real World" is a fantastic book, like a more earnest "Less Than Zero" (plus murder) or a darker "Perks of Being a Wallflower" (plus murder); the only Japanese novel I can think of comparing it to is "The Sailor who fell from Grace with the Sea" by Yukio Mishima, on the grounds that both delve into the darkness in the heart of young people--but "Real World" is much more of a page-turner, less didactic and more exciting in a way that doesn't cheapen the trauma. It plays out less as a conventional thriller and more as a compelling drama about thoughts you don't share in polite company. I've always enjoyed Japanese literature and am embarrassed that I haven't gotten around to Natsuo Kirino sooner.
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