Mina's Matchbox by Yoko Ogawa
“But even if they appeared to be nothing more than unadorned
paper boxes from the outside, they exuded a beauty equal to anything created by
a sculptor or potter. Even though the meaning of the words printed on their
pages was so profound it could never have been contained by those boxes, the
books never let on to their depths. They waited patiently until someone picked
them up and opened their covers. I came to have enormous respect for that
patience.” Yoko Ogawa. Mina’s Matchbox
Many thanks to Netgalley and Pantheon Books for allowing me
to preview Yoko Ogawa’s amazing new book Mina’s
Matchbox. The book follows Tomoko, a young girl, who goes to live with
her cousin Mina and her family while Tomoko’s mother studies design. Mina’s
family, who run a beverage company called Fressy, live in a luxurious mansion
built by Mina’s grandfather. Among other trappings, the mansion includes the
sole inhabitant of the Fressy Zoo: Pochiko, a pygmy hippo from Liberia. As the
quote suggests, this unique story is much more than the “words printed on their
pages”, and thankfully, Stephen Snyder’s poetic translation helps to elevate
Ogawa’s beautiful story of memory and meaning to artistic realms. I’ve Ogawa’s
other books, but nothing is quite like this one. Where her other books like The
Memory Police are somewhat restrained in their descriptions and
allegorical, this book revels in the memories of the past as Tomoko recalls the
year she spent with Mina’s family. Early on in reading, the book seemed more
like a narrative about this time in her life, but as I read on, the book takes on
more significance and readers learn how Tomoko’s experiences during this time
helped shape her ideas about relationships, love, death, and life. Furthermore,
we gradually learn how each of these aspects of life affects the other. While
there is some ambiguity in the relationships, like the relationship between
Tomoko’s uncle and aunt (or Mina’s parents), we can also see their dedication
to keeping the family together and despite some absences, Mina’s uncle does
seem to care for his family. However, I also wondered about whether the uncle
helped to highlight some of the concerns Mina recognized with Japanese women’s
rights and voice in marriage. She characterizes her aunt as a good listener who
doesn’t talk much, but who also drinks whiskey daily and smokes heavily,
especially when her husband is away. Mina, likewise, is viewed as weak due to
her asthma, and while she gets to ride Pochiko to school (to avoid bus/car
fumes), her movement and decisions are largely restricted due to her perceived
frailty. Yet, Mina and Tomoko find ways to create their own voices, even if it
involves collaborating with one another. Tomoko frequents the library for Mina,
searching for books not in her vast home library. Tomoko impresses the
librarian with her search for and recitation of the books from Mina’s list;
however, he doesn’t know that these are Mina’s summations. Similarly, Tomoko
seeks out more matchboxes for Mina from a young delivery driver from the Fressy
factory, and eventually tries to get them to view a meteor shower together.
While the plans do not necessarily work, Tomoko’s insistence in viewing the meteor
shower allows Mina to spend the night away from home, outside under the stars.
These evets and others in the book show how Tomoko and Mina are trying to
establish their identities, looking for connections and relationships beyond
the mansion and the family.
The book also features instances of death, most notably using the suicide of Nobel winning Japanese author Yasunari Kawabata to explore the relationship between death and memory. The girls learn about Kawabata’s death from the newspaper, and although Tomoko did not know this writer, Mina explains that despite not knowing him personally, she developed a strong relationship with him through his writing. Mina later reveals her matchbox stories to Tomoko, who falls in love with these brief, but alluring tales based on the artistry of the matchboxes that contain them. Much like allegories or fairy tales, these stories seem to impart some kind of cultural message or knowledge, focusing on the outcomes of the characters. I also enjoyed them, and I think they function as both entertainment and a kind of symbol of the girls and their development and learning about life, love, and death. The concern about Mina’s health also places her close to death, and her kind of frailty seems to differentiate her from Tomoko. Tomoko often describes Mina as skinny and underdeveloped, her beautifully formed face not matching her skinny body. I really liked this description of Mina from Tomoko as well:
If
you wanted to describe Mina in a few words, you might say she was an asthmatic
girl who loved books and rode a pygmy hippopotamus. But if you wanted to
distinguish her from everyone else in the world, you’d say that she was a girl
who could strike a match more beautifully than anyone.
I think it shows how even something so mundane and simple as
striking a match can be elevated to artistry and beauty. In fact, others
noticed this about Mina and her match lighting skill is what allows her to
carry around these matchboxes. Throughout the book, Tomoko’s observations (or
maybe the reflections and memories) also elevate daily tasks and simple objects
to art. Cooking, cleaning, even drinking Fressy all have incredible
descriptions that heighten the senses and create a sense of wonder and joy in
these daily rituals we often overlook.
As I mentioned, death is a frequent event in this book, but
throughout the deaths that are recounted or remembered, there is often meaning
to be found in the lives of those who are gone. There is an interesting story
about Saburo, the Taiwanese Macaque who drove a small train at the Fressy Zoo.
I won’t get into the story, but it helps to show how each life is important,
and someone has something to contribute. Grandma Rosa is another character,
originally from Germany, who doesn’t initially share that she lost her siblings
in the Holocaust and was the only family member spared because she was in Japan
at the time. She keeps pictures of her sister out but doesn’t really talk about
her. Yet, during a broadcast of the 1972 Olympics, she hears her native German
and Tomoko describes her as animated like never before. In addition, the Olympics
feature prominently in the book. These were the Black September attacks. Tomoko
watched it unfold with her family, and the scene of bloodshed upset Grandmother
Rosa, probably bringing back memories of the family she lost. Tomoko
acknowledges that Grandmother Rosa’s grief at these events prompted her to view
the events differently:
Just
as Grandmother Rosa learned the meaning of the Japanese word for rosary beads,
in watching that ceremony, I understood for the first time the significance of
a flag flown at half-staff. The five rings of the Olympic banner fluttered
forlornly, halfway up the pole.
It’s reflections like these and Tomoko’s growing awareness
of both death and life that make this book so incredible. I also think that
this kind of reflection and the subtle sadness and well as the gratitude and
appreciation for life make this book different from Ogawa’s other books like Revenge,
Hotel Iris, and The Memory Police. While those are great books, they
are also dark and somewhat brooding. Mina’s
Matchbox is fine art, carefully cataloguing and revisiting important
memories to better understand how events and relationships have affected our
own views and understandings of the world. I highly recommend this book and
look forward to reading it again. This book would make a great choice for a
book group as well.
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