【Book Review】Midoriiseki, Ota Stephanie Kanto, Shueisha, Tokyo, 2024, 211 pages.
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I only picked up this book because it was a reading assignment for a monthly online book review course that I took in April 2024. In the course, all students read either the book assigned by the instructor, or a book of their own choosing and write reviews. Then everyone reads the reviews written by their peers and grade them by assigning points. The student whose review receives the most points is the master book reviewer for the month.
When I saw the title Midoriiseki and the author’s name Ota Stephanie Kanto, the thought that popped into my mind is that this must be some kind of dry literary work that would be a slog to read through, something I wouldn’t be able to identify with at all. However, since I couldn’t think of any other books to read for the book review course offhand, I figured I might as well give it a try, if only to get a sense of the type of book the instructor likes.
Never judge a book by its cover, but the bright, fluorescent-green color scheme jumps out at you and gives the book a very modern, edgy feel. I open the back cover and check the author’s bio. The author is still in their 20s. Is this a science fiction novel? Might Midoriiseki refer to a green-colored relic built by aliens? Is this a new take on aliens arriving on earth and encountering mankind for the first time, like the 2016 movie “Arrival,” or perhaps a “Footfall” for the 21st century?[1] The book has succeeded in capturing my interest.
The novel starts with the protagonist, Midori Momose, sitting behind the plate for his elementary-school level baseball team, trying to get his pitcher, a girl named Haru, to take some heat off her fastball and focus on control. Two outs, runner on second, cleanup hitter at bat. The pitcher, with tears in her eyes, ignores instructions from the team’s coach and winds up, throwing a fastball that the batter fouls off. Momose, the catcher, loses sight of the fly ball. It falls right on his helmeted head, knocking him backwards off his feet, and sending his body perpendicular to the ground. The back of his head hits the ground with a thud.
Fast forward to the present. Momose is in his second year in high school, probably a 16- or 17-year-old, who lives in a residential area of western Tokyo, somewhere near Kichijoji and Fuchu city. He has been stuck in a multi-year rut ever since his baseball-loving father passed away, instilling a deep-seated fear of death and a sense of powerlessness in the protagonist. Adding to his woes, Momose was ostracized and had to leave his junior high school baseball team because he wanted to play for fun and enjoyment, putting him at odds with his coach and teammates who were single-mindedly focused on winning. Wounded by such experiences, Momose seems to have lost his way, regarding all effort as being futile. That’s a sad way to think and live, especially for a teenager in high school.
On one typically languid day the protagonist manages to drag himself to school, where he runs into Haru for the first time in years. As it turns out, Haru is the ringleader of a group of teenagers who illicitly sell cannabis, including edible cannabis that they package in boxes of candy. They are a closely knit group, greeting each other by saying “Wakanda forever,” eating and smoking cannabis, watching movies, playing video games, and chilling out at their hideout, a rented apartment. Momose’s experience with the group is a mix of strange, scary hallucinations, camaraderie and friendship, and money–until it all comes crashing down when they are viciously attacked by a rival group.
Through it all, the protagonist isn’t very likeable. He is childish and selfish, and appears unwilling to confront his demons, and is almost cowardly. By his own admission, he looks down on everyone else. That attitude draws the ire of Haru, who accuses Momose of hiding behind a cloak of arrogance and running from his fears. If you want to remain paralyzed by your fear of dying, that’s up to you, she says at one point. But just remember, everyone is fighting something in their own way. Still, the group never rejects Momose outright. His cannabis-dealing friends are very patient and forgiving, even when his words and actions would seem to justify cutting him loose. There is always someone in the group that’s offering support and going out of their way to protect him, even at great risk to themselves. Why does the protagonist, who comes across as being selfishly focused on preserving his own self-interest, keep getting a second chance from this group? Perhaps Momose is the author’s alter ego. If so, it’s impressive that the author depicts him in such an unsparing and unflinching way.
The communication among the high schoolers is fun. They greet each other saying “Wakanda forever,” with forearms crossed before themselves, and employ various fist-tapping routines. Even Momose manages to be funny, such as when he is fired from his after-school job at a local convenience store. To a colleague who notifies him that the store would still generously pay him for the following week’s shift, Momose replies with a brashness and arrogance that belies his predicament: “Gotcha on everything. . . Make sure you send me the money on time.”
So, there is a lot to unpack. The book even keeps up its end of the bargain by sneaking in references to intelligent life on Mars. A mystery, however, that remains unsolved throughout is how the intelligent, decisive, and headstrong Haru came to sell cannabis. Is she estranged from her parents? What is she fighting against?
Initially, this book appeared to be a cautionary tale about worsening crime in Tokyo and about high schoolers in our midst getting involved in illegal drug-dealing. That premise has shock value and is no doubt the book’s initial draw. But ultimately, it comes across as a story about confronting one’s fears, the value of integrity, and the importance of relationships.