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Obasan
Winner of the American Book Award
Based on the author's own experiences, this award-winning novel was the first to tell the story of the evacuation, relocation, and dispersal of Canadian citizens of Japanese ancestry during the Second World War.
Based on the author's own experiences, this award-winning novel was the first to tell the story of the evacuation, relocation, and dispersal of Canadian citizens of Japanese ancestry during the Second World War.
300 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1981
280 people are currently reading
7,325 people want to read
About the author
Joy Kogawa
22books96followersJoy Kogawa was born in Vancouver in 1935 to Japanese-Canadian parents. During WWII, Joy and her family were forced to move to Slocan, British Columbia, an injustice Kogawa addresses in her 1981 novel, Obasan. Kogawa has worked to educate Canadians about the history of Japanese Canadians and she was active in the fight for official governmental redress.
Kogawa studied at the University of Alberta and the University of Saskatchewan. Her most recent poetic publication is A Garden of Anchors. The long poem, A Song of Lilith, published in 2000 with art by Lilian Broca, retells the story of Lilith, the mythical first partner to Adam.
In 1986, Kogawa was made a Member of the Order of Canada; in 2006, she was made a Member of the Order of British Columbia. In 2010, the Japanese government honored Kogawa with the Order of the Rising Sun "for her contribution to the understanding and preservation of Japanese Canadian history.
Kogawa studied at the University of Alberta and the University of Saskatchewan. Her most recent poetic publication is A Garden of Anchors. The long poem, A Song of Lilith, published in 2000 with art by Lilian Broca, retells the story of Lilith, the mythical first partner to Adam.
In 1986, Kogawa was made a Member of the Order of Canada; in 2006, she was made a Member of the Order of British Columbia. In 2010, the Japanese government honored Kogawa with the Order of the Rising Sun "for her contribution to the understanding and preservation of Japanese Canadian history.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 717 reviews
December 17, 2015
The Government makes paper airplanes out of our lives and flies us out the windows. Some people return home. Some do not. War they all say, is war, and some people survive.Out of all the countries in the world, Canada is the one I have most seriously considered for emigration purposes. The stereotypes Americans have for that northern border are notorious; kind, peaceful, oh so funny with their maple syrup and their Mounties, Mounties being a nickname for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, shortened to RCMP and used with devastating effect within the pages of this book. As the popularly Socrates attributed quote exclaims, one that in actuality is not found within the realms of Plato's character craft of his esteemed teacher: I know that I know nothing.
The internment and systematic persecution of the Japanese people in both the United States and Canada is not a popular topic in literature. For every mountain of WWII, there is a granule such as this, yet another book that I wished had replaced one of the multiple Shakespeare's, Dickens', and all those other 'classics' stretching their claws out of their high and mighty grave. Leave me to discover those old and venerated folks on my own when I have the benefit of longer years and heavier thoughts; I'd rather I was led to works more of my own time, so that I may gain a better picture of the world currently around me before foraging in the dry and dusty tombs of my chosen calling.
I will not compare this crime against humanity to others, for that only paves the way to misunderstanding and rampant disrespect. I will lay it out as how it was told to me within this book; how the Japanese were exiled from their homes, how they had the choice of shoddy internment camps or the long voyage back to Japan, how their belongings were sold and their families torn to pieces and Canada methodically gouged out its heart and sloppily stitched it up, with boats and beets and hydrogen bombs. It is a story all too common in the ranks of nations no matter how democratically labeled, and the question is not of comparison to others, but that the tales, all of the tales, be told at all.
This tale is a deft and devious weaving of culture and of chaos, the memories of the young both convoluted and capricious when it comes to a parent's disappearance, a brother's avoidance, racism and abuse and ever the unexplained reasons for the change, the toil, the pain. Kodomo no tame; for the sake of the children, born to a peaceful melding of their family and their country, only to be wrested away on the backs of ostracization where white is supreme and board games decry the 'yellow peril'. Proof of loyalty of the people is changed to proof of betrayal by the government, where every step forward is two notches tightening of the noose and the facts are formulated into forms so brisk, so official, you would not believe the horror lying just beneath the printed surface. Ever the banality of evil, the crux of many a bureaucracy.
Where do any of us come from in this cold country? Oh, Canada, whether it is admitted or not, we come from you we come from you. From the same soil, the slugs and slime and bogs and twigs and roots. We come from the country that plucks its people out like weeds and flings them into the roadside. We grow in ditches and sloughs, untended and spindly. We erupt in the valleys and mountainsides, in small towns and back alleys, sprouting upside down on the prairies, our hair wild as spiders' legs, our feet rooted nowhere. We grow where we are not seen, we flourish where we are not heard, the thick undergrowth of an unlikely planting. Where do we come from, Obasan? We come from cemeteries full of skeletons with wild roses in their grinning teeth. We come from our untold tales that wait for their telling. We come from Canada, this land that is like every land, filled with the wise, the fearful, the compassionate, the corrupt.Let the new flowers grow; our humanity lies in remembering the fruit that rotted and fell for the flowering.
March 2, 2016
Obasan took me by surprise. If it weren't in 500GBbW, I may never have read this, and the story it tells might have remained for me one bald, shame-concealing line in victorious history books. I started reading, not knowing what it was about. It opens gently, quietly, with a scene of undulating hills covered in tall grasses, that is tranquil and beautiful, yet troubling because there is a silence behind it, an uncertainty about meaning, an uncertainty about being. Shall I shatter this uneasy peace only for the sake of being heard? Last weekend at , I listened to Joan Anim Addo speaking about the compulsion to write: "You have to get this out, or it will kill you."
One thing that I kept reflecting on as I read was the title, why this title? Why name the story for Obasan, the most unobtrusive, the quietest, the least exciting person in the cast. Even the name 'obasan' is anonymous, as it means 'aunt' and is not a personal name at all. But when sparky activist Aunt Emily provokes Uncle and Obasan and they declare that their gratitude to the Canadian State, I felt I was beginning to understand; Obasan's story would die with her, because she will not tell it; her way of being does not allow for such painful outpouring.
Naomi, the narrator, has suppressed her own memories, she feels with Obasan, but gradually she lets them come back, she answers the offering of Emily's story with her own, which is Obasan's; it is the story of all Japanese people in Canada, first, second, or third generation, at the time of WWII. They were classified as enemy aliens, dispossessed and displaced, often to concentration camps. Families were broken up. Naomi, with Obasan and Uncle and her brother, lived in a shed, then a smaller shed, through Canadian winters. They worked on a farm, cheap labour, back-breaking. They survived, and they are grateful.
Joy Kogawa shows us some of the ways racism affects Naomi's sense of self:
I see an ethics of respectful care as central to the Japanese-Canadian community. Care is paramount, automatic, unostentatious. There are so many deeply touching moments and so much casual evidence, of care. Obasan personifies this, and way she eases all the hard things the family endures shows how care and respect could produce a society of physical and emotional ease, leaving heart and thoughtspace for enjoyment and contemplation. Obasans lead the way in making possible all the world's sweetness. But the gentleness of Obasan is counterpointed by Aunt Emily's sharpened sense of justice as well as her academic's eloquence; Naomi must step uncomfortably into Emily's mode:
Emily's speech is not at all the typical style though. I was increasingly in love with Joy Kogawa's starkly beautiful prose, the shimmering veil of images through which she draws truth like a mud-slicked, weed-strewn treasure from the lake-bottom of memory
My favourite sub-text is Naomi's awareness of native people. When she is speaking as an adult, she mentions that some of the Japanese children in the class she teaches could pass for native, and vice versa. Yet, there is no communication. Remembering the way the Japanese children shortened and selected their names (her full name is Megumi Naomi Nakane) to make them as Canadian as possible, she mentions that a native girl was called Annie Black Bear, and was triumphant when the teacher calle her Annie Black by mistake. Both groups are subject to racism but its effect is silence and attempts to assimilate, militating against any solidarity between them. Naomi recalls playing with a violent young friend, Kenji, who introduces her to a man who lives alone on the edge of their town, Rough Lock Bill. This character tells the children the story of how Slocan got its name, from the words used by the natives who first settled there 'slow can go'. He repeatedly prods Kenji and Naomi to talk, to respond, but they are taciturn, especially Naomi.
Despite this silence, the inclusion demonstrates an awareness that issues of belonging and connection for migrant settlers like the Japanese. can't be isolated from the issue of Canada as stolen land, of the state as genocidal expropriator. Emily, for instance, expresses deep allegiance to the state, and is forced into a critical attitude by events. For Naomi, belonging is in both culture and land, and the forced migration she experiences sensitises her to tension between them.
We might expect the recovery of memories, though painful, to bring healing, but the discoveries it leads to, relating to the USA's bombing of Nagasaki with nuclear weapons, are devastating. Each turn in the narrative is a new wound. Repeatedly, Nami asks why remember, why speak? This act cannot raise the dead, undo the violence, bring back what is lost. Yet, spurred by Emily, who treats Obasan with such profound disrespect we know there must be yet more unsaid, Naomi and Joy Kogawa have broken the silence that Obasan held to protect them all, like a shield absorbing a terrible impact, and now that they are strong enough to speak, will there be an answer?
One thing that I kept reflecting on as I read was the title, why this title? Why name the story for Obasan, the most unobtrusive, the quietest, the least exciting person in the cast. Even the name 'obasan' is anonymous, as it means 'aunt' and is not a personal name at all. But when sparky activist Aunt Emily provokes Uncle and Obasan and they declare that their gratitude to the Canadian State, I felt I was beginning to understand; Obasan's story would die with her, because she will not tell it; her way of being does not allow for such painful outpouring.
Naomi, the narrator, has suppressed her own memories, she feels with Obasan, but gradually she lets them come back, she answers the offering of Emily's story with her own, which is Obasan's; it is the story of all Japanese people in Canada, first, second, or third generation, at the time of WWII. They were classified as enemy aliens, dispossessed and displaced, often to concentration camps. Families were broken up. Naomi, with Obasan and Uncle and her brother, lived in a shed, then a smaller shed, through Canadian winters. They worked on a farm, cheap labour, back-breaking. They survived, and they are grateful.
Joy Kogawa shows us some of the ways racism affects Naomi's sense of self:
In one of Stephen's books, there is a story of a child with long golden ringlets called Goldilocks who one day comes to a quaint house in the woods lived in by a family of bears. Clearly, we are that bear family in this strange house in the middle of the woodsOccasionally, Naomi directly voices her struggles to live up to Obasan's ideals
We must always honor the wishes of others before our own. We will make the way smooth by restraining emotion. Though we might wish Grandma and Grandpa to stay, we must watch them go. To try to meet one's own needs in spite of the wishes of others is to be “wagamama� - selfish and inconsiderate. Obasan teaches me not to be wagamama by always heeding everyone's needs... It is such a tangle trying to decipher the needs and intents of othersOf course, the tangle is complicated by others' considerateness.
I see an ethics of respectful care as central to the Japanese-Canadian community. Care is paramount, automatic, unostentatious. There are so many deeply touching moments and so much casual evidence, of care. Obasan personifies this, and way she eases all the hard things the family endures shows how care and respect could produce a society of physical and emotional ease, leaving heart and thoughtspace for enjoyment and contemplation. Obasans lead the way in making possible all the world's sweetness. But the gentleness of Obasan is counterpointed by Aunt Emily's sharpened sense of justice as well as her academic's eloquence; Naomi must step uncomfortably into Emily's mode:
”Some people,� Aunt Emily answered sharply, “are so busy seeing all sides of every issue that they neutralize concern and prevent necessary action. There's no strength in seeing all sides unless you can act where real measureable injustice exists. A lot of academic talk just immobilizes the oppressed and maintains oppressors in their positions of power�Naomi recoils from what she sees as stridency here, but I really like to hear a fiction author deploying the language of social justice with such precision. This might be a violation of the injunction to show not tell, but as a teacher I can see that it is BOTH, form and illustration, and value it as such, because it begins to make politics accessible and relevant to the reader, as Emily intends to make it for Naomi. In my country, school education certainly makes zero effort to do that, so hurray for books picking up the slack.
Emily's speech is not at all the typical style though. I was increasingly in love with Joy Kogawa's starkly beautiful prose, the shimmering veil of images through which she draws truth like a mud-slicked, weed-strewn treasure from the lake-bottom of memory
I am clinging to my mother's leg, a flesh shaft that grows from the ground, a tree trunk of which I am an offshoot � a young branch attached by right of flesh and blood. Where she is rooted, I am rooted. If she walks, I will walk. Her blood is whispering through my veins. The shaft of her leg is the shaft of my body and I am her thoughtsWithout telling, without explicitness, the theme of belonging and connection is vital. Naomi repeatedly experiences separation and loss. She introduces herself at the start, subtly, as discontented, melancholy, but it took me a long time to come to know this later Naomi through the unfolding of the child Naomi's memories. Each episode of trauma breaks or damages a strand in the weave that wraps her, affirms her. This includes abuse by a neighbour, the many departures of close family members and the loss of language:
Some of the children attend Japanese-language classes but I hear Obasan and Uncle whispering that it is unwise to have us go. The RCMP, they are saying, are always looking for signs of disloyalty to CanadaWhile Naomi values her Japanese heritage and traditions, especially bathing, her older brother reacts to the racism around them by rejecting anything 'too Japanese'. I liked how this was emphasised by, for example, the different lunches that the two children take to school:”my lunch that Obasan made is two moist and sticky rice balls with a salty red plum* in the center of each, a boiled egg to the side with a tight square of lightly boiled greens. Stephen has peanut-butter sandwiches, an apple, and a thermos of soup�. Obasan prepares a nourishing meal for each child, respecting their very different preferences.
My favourite sub-text is Naomi's awareness of native people. When she is speaking as an adult, she mentions that some of the Japanese children in the class she teaches could pass for native, and vice versa. Yet, there is no communication. Remembering the way the Japanese children shortened and selected their names (her full name is Megumi Naomi Nakane) to make them as Canadian as possible, she mentions that a native girl was called Annie Black Bear, and was triumphant when the teacher calle her Annie Black by mistake. Both groups are subject to racism but its effect is silence and attempts to assimilate, militating against any solidarity between them. Naomi recalls playing with a violent young friend, Kenji, who introduces her to a man who lives alone on the edge of their town, Rough Lock Bill. This character tells the children the story of how Slocan got its name, from the words used by the natives who first settled there 'slow can go'. He repeatedly prods Kenji and Naomi to talk, to respond, but they are taciturn, especially Naomi.
“Birds could all talk once. Bird language. Now all they can say is their own names. That's all. Can't say any more than their names. Just like some people. Specially in the city, eh? Me, me, me.� He jabs his chest with his thumb and grunts. “But smart peple don't talk too much. Redskins know that. The King bird warned them a long time ago.�Rough Lock Bill gives up the conversation at this point, but returns to save Naomi from drowning later. In this exchange, he offers the opportunity to break silence, but indicates respect for Naomi's choice to keep it. He speaks of the 'Indians' 'Redskins' as others, but we suspect that he is talking about his own people. Like the Japanese, he distances himself from a maligned identity.
Despite this silence, the inclusion demonstrates an awareness that issues of belonging and connection for migrant settlers like the Japanese. can't be isolated from the issue of Canada as stolen land, of the state as genocidal expropriator. Emily, for instance, expresses deep allegiance to the state, and is forced into a critical attitude by events. For Naomi, belonging is in both culture and land, and the forced migration she experiences sensitises her to tension between them.
We might expect the recovery of memories, though painful, to bring healing, but the discoveries it leads to, relating to the USA's bombing of Nagasaki with nuclear weapons, are devastating. Each turn in the narrative is a new wound. Repeatedly, Nami asks why remember, why speak? This act cannot raise the dead, undo the violence, bring back what is lost. Yet, spurred by Emily, who treats Obasan with such profound disrespect we know there must be yet more unsaid, Naomi and Joy Kogawa have broken the silence that Obasan held to protect them all, like a shield absorbing a terrible impact, and now that they are strong enough to speak, will there be an answer?
September 19, 2007
when i was recommended with this book from my english teacher for summer reading just because i'm asian, i was not excited about this book.. a story about a japanese family who lived in canada during wwii.. i heard stories about the time that japan ruled over korea from my grandparents.. i learned about wwii from history classes.. but when i read this book, everything changed.. not only it changed my view on japan and america but also on good and evil.. most people associate japan during WWII with evil.. they were the bad guys... we were the good guys.. but what many people don't think about is the stories of the people in the shadow.. people who fell victim to our abuse.. just because they were japanese.. cruel and inhumane treatment that was justified back then and that are not forgotten.. the story is absolutely unforgettable and haunting
October 4, 2017
Wow this is late. Blame school.
Ok, here we go.
Looking at what's going on in the world today only furthers my belief that people need to educate themselves. Your education system, wherever you are, will only be the best if it's a course related to STEM. Sure you maybe lucky like me and have strong departments in all the other fields of education, but sadly, departments unrelated to STEM often get the smallest budget. What's the point in building advanced technology if you're just going to be putting it into the hands of an ignorant person?
So until, the education system whips itself back into shape, your intelligence in regards to your morals, thoughts, beliefs, knowledge, philosophy, etc is completely in your hands. Being ignorant is no longer an option.
So why this rant? Well, fires are going off all over the world. Societal Justice is being wielded like a sword, the wielder having forgotten the original purpose of the sword. Anger is bubbling as atrocities are met over and over and over again with bureaucratic papers, military threat, censorship, or full on suppression. The people are fed up and frustration shows in many ways.
The events on going today may be different from the events that occurred during WW2 in Canada but the emotions that ripple through the people are no different and, if left unattended, could result in another calamity that gets simplified into printed texts and blurred photos.
Many of us may feel lost. Knowing enough to understand what's wrong and right but not enough to stand firm to ideals or help out. That horrid muddy in between place that ends up sinking us faster then those around us. This helplessness. This almost exhaustion of a reader is found in Naomi, the young child whose story we unfurl.
Being to young to fully understand what's going on, Naomi watches silently as the place she once called home (Vancouver, Canada) rejects her as first Canadian, then human. Split away from her father, she is sent with her brother and aunt to one of the many designated places given to Japanese families during WW2. We watch as this silent child grows up in more silence till, at age 30, she becomes unable to move on. Sure the pages of her story turn, but there are no words to read. They have all been pushed down deep into her childhood stories that once came to life in the comfort of her mother's hands and father's protection.
Obasan teaches the reader many things. The most important being how silence sometimes does more harm then good. How many times have your parents told you not to bring attention to yourself? How many times have you kept your opinions/views to yourself for the good of others? How many times have you kept still as you watched the world burn? I'm sure many of us have been through some life experience that hushed our voice for a time, many go through it every day. It digs itself deep within you making it almost undetectable until you open your mouth. The power of the voice to challenge its owner's fate is what democracy was built upon. But somewhere along the line, we've forgotten the responsibility that comes with democracy. It's almost as if our voices are being shackled to this giant demon that democracy has become. Being pulled along instead of working as a team of husky dogs, pulling the sled containing democracy.
Now I'm not telling you to go and start yelling for justice or to join some political party. No of course not. But silence can also be another form of ignorance. Some choose silence as a result of constant observation. Their mind becoming their voice. Yet many more choose silence as either the easy way out or because they do not know enough. There is no shame in choosing to do so. It is better then creating false ruckus. But silence can drive a person mad.
Educate.Educate.Educate.Educate.Educate.Educate.Educate.Educate.Educate.
Question everything.
Use your voice, but use it wisely.
Kogawa's writing plucks sharp chords in the reader. There were many times when I wondered why we never went into much detail about the Japanese Internment or the Aboriginal Re-Education in school. Was is because of shame? Well, shouldn't it be shameful? Shouldn't it be taught as an everlasting reminder when we didn't use our voice properly? When we didn't care? Naomi's story plays out much lighter in comparison to most other's during the Internment but that doesn't mean that she remained unaffected. Her distance from the horrors was Kogawa's way to tell the reader that even those who are young, unrelated, or distant from the issue are affected by it.
There were some issues that I had with the book because I did wish it gave more detail to the actual events that occurred in the Internment Camps. Having the distance was needed but it also made it hard to understand what exactly happened. Also, there were many times where the literary style of the story did not blend well to the factual details the book talked about. There was a clear distinction of story from fact making it hard to be pulled into the story.
Regardless, it is a book that sparks conversation as I have done above.
Ok, here we go.
Looking at what's going on in the world today only furthers my belief that people need to educate themselves. Your education system, wherever you are, will only be the best if it's a course related to STEM. Sure you maybe lucky like me and have strong departments in all the other fields of education, but sadly, departments unrelated to STEM often get the smallest budget. What's the point in building advanced technology if you're just going to be putting it into the hands of an ignorant person?
So until, the education system whips itself back into shape, your intelligence in regards to your morals, thoughts, beliefs, knowledge, philosophy, etc is completely in your hands. Being ignorant is no longer an option.
So why this rant? Well, fires are going off all over the world. Societal Justice is being wielded like a sword, the wielder having forgotten the original purpose of the sword. Anger is bubbling as atrocities are met over and over and over again with bureaucratic papers, military threat, censorship, or full on suppression. The people are fed up and frustration shows in many ways.
The events on going today may be different from the events that occurred during WW2 in Canada but the emotions that ripple through the people are no different and, if left unattended, could result in another calamity that gets simplified into printed texts and blurred photos.
Many of us may feel lost. Knowing enough to understand what's wrong and right but not enough to stand firm to ideals or help out. That horrid muddy in between place that ends up sinking us faster then those around us. This helplessness. This almost exhaustion of a reader is found in Naomi, the young child whose story we unfurl.
Being to young to fully understand what's going on, Naomi watches silently as the place she once called home (Vancouver, Canada) rejects her as first Canadian, then human. Split away from her father, she is sent with her brother and aunt to one of the many designated places given to Japanese families during WW2. We watch as this silent child grows up in more silence till, at age 30, she becomes unable to move on. Sure the pages of her story turn, but there are no words to read. They have all been pushed down deep into her childhood stories that once came to life in the comfort of her mother's hands and father's protection.
Obasan teaches the reader many things. The most important being how silence sometimes does more harm then good. How many times have your parents told you not to bring attention to yourself? How many times have you kept your opinions/views to yourself for the good of others? How many times have you kept still as you watched the world burn? I'm sure many of us have been through some life experience that hushed our voice for a time, many go through it every day. It digs itself deep within you making it almost undetectable until you open your mouth. The power of the voice to challenge its owner's fate is what democracy was built upon. But somewhere along the line, we've forgotten the responsibility that comes with democracy. It's almost as if our voices are being shackled to this giant demon that democracy has become. Being pulled along instead of working as a team of husky dogs, pulling the sled containing democracy.
Now I'm not telling you to go and start yelling for justice or to join some political party. No of course not. But silence can also be another form of ignorance. Some choose silence as a result of constant observation. Their mind becoming their voice. Yet many more choose silence as either the easy way out or because they do not know enough. There is no shame in choosing to do so. It is better then creating false ruckus. But silence can drive a person mad.
Educate.Educate.Educate.Educate.Educate.Educate.Educate.Educate.Educate.
Question everything.
Use your voice, but use it wisely.
Kogawa's writing plucks sharp chords in the reader. There were many times when I wondered why we never went into much detail about the Japanese Internment or the Aboriginal Re-Education in school. Was is because of shame? Well, shouldn't it be shameful? Shouldn't it be taught as an everlasting reminder when we didn't use our voice properly? When we didn't care? Naomi's story plays out much lighter in comparison to most other's during the Internment but that doesn't mean that she remained unaffected. Her distance from the horrors was Kogawa's way to tell the reader that even those who are young, unrelated, or distant from the issue are affected by it.
There were some issues that I had with the book because I did wish it gave more detail to the actual events that occurred in the Internment Camps. Having the distance was needed but it also made it hard to understand what exactly happened. Also, there were many times where the literary style of the story did not blend well to the factual details the book talked about. There was a clear distinction of story from fact making it hard to be pulled into the story.
Regardless, it is a book that sparks conversation as I have done above.
July 11, 2022
(Audio to hear the Japanese language spoken) - Obasan started off as an AMAZING book, with rare synesthesia where you have several bodily senses activated at the same time. Not a typical WWII book whatsoever for the first quarter of the book, and I was simply not prepared for this wonderful experience. Needless to say, I slowed down and let all the senses wash over me, taking in the beauty of the language and the prose of the story. I could hear the waves crashing. I could taste the soup. I could feel the paper tissue in my hands and hear the crinkling in my ear.
But then, as Kogawa got further into her relatives's stories of survival in the Canadian--Japanese internment camps, her writing style completely changed and became somewhat choppy, to the point that I wondered if it was even the same writer. The story, then, even with the terrible accounts of racism and discrimination that the Japanese experienced in their own country, became diminished, and I had a hard time staying with it. Or perhaps, I am just overly saturated with WWII stories at this point.
The thing is, there aren't too many accounts of the Japanese-Canadians during the second World War, and I know that this was an incredibly important story to write and an important story to read so that we don't repeat this horrible history.
I learned much, and I am thankful that this author put her family's story on paper for the world to read. It was good, but it wasn't great. Perhaps if she had kept to her original style, I would have given this a much higher rating.
But then, as Kogawa got further into her relatives's stories of survival in the Canadian--Japanese internment camps, her writing style completely changed and became somewhat choppy, to the point that I wondered if it was even the same writer. The story, then, even with the terrible accounts of racism and discrimination that the Japanese experienced in their own country, became diminished, and I had a hard time staying with it. Or perhaps, I am just overly saturated with WWII stories at this point.
The thing is, there aren't too many accounts of the Japanese-Canadians during the second World War, and I know that this was an incredibly important story to write and an important story to read so that we don't repeat this horrible history.
I learned much, and I am thankful that this author put her family's story on paper for the world to read. It was good, but it wasn't great. Perhaps if she had kept to her original style, I would have given this a much higher rating.
September 28, 2022
‘Bu soğuk ülkede, hangimiz nereden geliyoruz ki zaten? Ah Kanada... Kabul edilsin veya edilmesin, oradan geliyoruz işte, oradan geliyoruz. Aynı topraktan, sümüklüböceklerden, balçıktan, bataklıklardan, dallardan ve köklerden. İnsanlarını yabani ot gibi koparıp yol kenarına fırlatan ülkeden geliyoruz.�
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Japonya- Kanada arasında 1800lü yıllarda başlayan sıkı bağ 2. Dünya Savaşı’nın başlamasıyla sekteye uğradı. İlk başta sesi yavaş yavaş çıkan homurdanmalardı bunlar. Pearl Harbor sonrası ise güçlü bir gürültü başladı.
Yıllardır Kanada vatandaşı olarak yaşayan Japon kökenli halk birdenbire göz önünden kaldırılmaya çalışılan eşyaya dönüştürülmeye başlandı.
İstedikleri işte çalışma hakları ellerinden alındı, mal varlıklarına el konuldu, sürüldüler veya sınır dışı edildiler.
İşte o süreçte paramparça olan bir aileyi okuyoruz ‘Obasan’da.
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Joy Kogawa, geçmişi yer yer şefkatle anıyor ama kırgınlık ve kızgınlık öyle baskın ki... Günümüzün sosyal haklar konusunda imrenilen ülkesi Kanada’nın, çok da dillendirilmeyen gerçekliklerinden de bahsediyor cesurca.
Bir çocuğun annesinden ayrı kalmasının bıraktığı o derin çukura gömüyor anlattıklarını.
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Etkilenerek okuduğum bu kitabın çevirisi Tugay Kaban’a ait iken; kapak tasarımı Harun Tan çalışması ~
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Japonya- Kanada arasında 1800lü yıllarda başlayan sıkı bağ 2. Dünya Savaşı’nın başlamasıyla sekteye uğradı. İlk başta sesi yavaş yavaş çıkan homurdanmalardı bunlar. Pearl Harbor sonrası ise güçlü bir gürültü başladı.
Yıllardır Kanada vatandaşı olarak yaşayan Japon kökenli halk birdenbire göz önünden kaldırılmaya çalışılan eşyaya dönüştürülmeye başlandı.
İstedikleri işte çalışma hakları ellerinden alındı, mal varlıklarına el konuldu, sürüldüler veya sınır dışı edildiler.
İşte o süreçte paramparça olan bir aileyi okuyoruz ‘Obasan’da.
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Joy Kogawa, geçmişi yer yer şefkatle anıyor ama kırgınlık ve kızgınlık öyle baskın ki... Günümüzün sosyal haklar konusunda imrenilen ülkesi Kanada’nın, çok da dillendirilmeyen gerçekliklerinden de bahsediyor cesurca.
Bir çocuğun annesinden ayrı kalmasının bıraktığı o derin çukura gömüyor anlattıklarını.
.
Etkilenerek okuduğum bu kitabın çevirisi Tugay Kaban’a ait iken; kapak tasarımı Harun Tan çalışması ~
September 9, 2013
A bit too light and wispy? Our narrator is very fond of looking at the scenery and only shyly alluding to the human rights abuses going on all around her.
But ... crucial reading ... I'd liked to hope Japanese internment was only a mad USA thing. Canada! Part of the Empire! Bloody hell.
But ... crucial reading ... I'd liked to hope Japanese internment was only a mad USA thing. Canada! Part of the Empire! Bloody hell.
March 26, 2013
I am surprised by how many people have never read this book. Kogawa documents a dark part of our history that every person should be aware of. A must for every library.
***
Introduction:
There is a silence that cannot speak.
There is a silence that will not speak.
Beneath the grass the speaking dreams and beneath the dreams is a sensate sea. The speech that frees comes forth from that amniotic deep. To attend its voice, I can hear it say, is to embrace its absence. But I fail the task. The word is stone.
I admit it.
I hate the stillness. I hate the stone. I hate the sealed vault with its cold icon. I hate the staring into the night. The questions thinning into space. The sky swallowing the echoes.
Unless the stone bursts with telling, unless the seed flowers with speech, there is in my life no living word. The sound I hear is only sound. White sound. Words, when they fall are pock marks on the earth. They are hailstones seeking an underground stream.
If I could follow the stream down and down to the hidden voice, would I come at last to the freeing word? I ask the night sky but the silence is steadfast. There is no reply.
***
Introduction:
There is a silence that cannot speak.
There is a silence that will not speak.
Beneath the grass the speaking dreams and beneath the dreams is a sensate sea. The speech that frees comes forth from that amniotic deep. To attend its voice, I can hear it say, is to embrace its absence. But I fail the task. The word is stone.
I admit it.
I hate the stillness. I hate the stone. I hate the sealed vault with its cold icon. I hate the staring into the night. The questions thinning into space. The sky swallowing the echoes.
Unless the stone bursts with telling, unless the seed flowers with speech, there is in my life no living word. The sound I hear is only sound. White sound. Words, when they fall are pock marks on the earth. They are hailstones seeking an underground stream.
If I could follow the stream down and down to the hidden voice, would I come at last to the freeing word? I ask the night sky but the silence is steadfast. There is no reply.
January 2, 2020
I am almost always a big fan of books set during the WW2 era, and must admit that when I read the blurb about this book I was both intrigued and surprised. I am a naive and uninformed American -- I knew nothing about the Canadian internment of the Japanese. I thought this blight on history only happened in my country.
However, I found this book a bit too light and sweet, which may be explainable by the fact that the main character is a young girl, but it still felt inappropriate. I would have preferred some deeper, darker discussions of the horror of this moment in time.
Obasan is narrated by Naomi, a five year old Japanese Canadian girl. When Pearl Harbor is bombed the Canadian government, like the American one to its south, inters the citizens of its own country because of their ancestry (and really, because of their appearance). Naomi is separated from her parents, but luckily is together with her aunt Obasan. Unfortunately for Naomi things will get worse, as her aunt dies.
I had three problems with the book. Firstly, this girl's life was torn asunder by her internment, and yet the story felt too light-hearted. And, secondly, the structure felt a bit frazzled. The story is told with many jumps in time which I normally enjoy but in this book was often confusing and it was always difficult to know where we were in time. Thirdly, the plot was weak and the character development almost non-existent.
I am awarding this one three stars only because it exposed me to a bit of history that I previously knew nothing about. It taught me something new.
However, I found this book a bit too light and sweet, which may be explainable by the fact that the main character is a young girl, but it still felt inappropriate. I would have preferred some deeper, darker discussions of the horror of this moment in time.
Obasan is narrated by Naomi, a five year old Japanese Canadian girl. When Pearl Harbor is bombed the Canadian government, like the American one to its south, inters the citizens of its own country because of their ancestry (and really, because of their appearance). Naomi is separated from her parents, but luckily is together with her aunt Obasan. Unfortunately for Naomi things will get worse, as her aunt dies.
I had three problems with the book. Firstly, this girl's life was torn asunder by her internment, and yet the story felt too light-hearted. And, secondly, the structure felt a bit frazzled. The story is told with many jumps in time which I normally enjoy but in this book was often confusing and it was always difficult to know where we were in time. Thirdly, the plot was weak and the character development almost non-existent.
I am awarding this one three stars only because it exposed me to a bit of history that I previously knew nothing about. It taught me something new.
October 22, 2013
No book I've ever read has ever broken my heart like this one. I cried on the bus heading home from school, cried late at night reading tucked under the covers, an cried again in the morning, sitting in the Arts Undergrad Society student lounge. But more often than not, I sat silently, awash in the stark and simple beauty of Kogawa's prose, numb with sorrow too great for tears or shaking with anger at the wrongs my country, my government committed against the Nisei, against people more Canadian than Canada, more Canadian than the politicians that legislated their gross abuse.
Obasan is achingly beautiful, but it is more than that, it is the most important, the most necessary book a Canadian has ever written. There are no words that we need to hear more, yesterday, today and tomorrow. I learned of the residential schools in High School, we talk of the atrocities we committed and continue to commit towards our First Nations brothers and sisters, but even today, Kogawa's story is the great and untold history of our time.
Obasan is achingly beautiful, but it is more than that, it is the most important, the most necessary book a Canadian has ever written. There are no words that we need to hear more, yesterday, today and tomorrow. I learned of the residential schools in High School, we talk of the atrocities we committed and continue to commit towards our First Nations brothers and sisters, but even today, Kogawa's story is the great and untold history of our time.
November 5, 2014
One of the worst books I have ever read.
The pace is unbearably slow. Chapter 14, comprised solely of letters, made me want to throw the book out the window. Unfortunately, I was forced to read this for my English class and could not do so. The author was entirely focused on attempted symbolism and metaphor that was dull and did not aid in the plot whatsoever.
The topic could have been presented in a way that was emotional and touching, however, the author has caused me nothing but irritation.
The pace is unbearably slow. Chapter 14, comprised solely of letters, made me want to throw the book out the window. Unfortunately, I was forced to read this for my English class and could not do so. The author was entirely focused on attempted symbolism and metaphor that was dull and did not aid in the plot whatsoever.
The topic could have been presented in a way that was emotional and touching, however, the author has caused me nothing but irritation.
July 14, 2011
I really wanted my students to learn about this era in history, and so many other teachers had recommended it, so I went ahead and assigned it as summer reading before I actually read it. That summer, I picked it up time and time again, trying to force my way through it. It was so boring that I decided to contact my students and tell them not to worry about reading it. They were all happy -- they couldn't read more than a page at a time, either.
January 13, 2011
*** BEWARE OF SPOILERS!!! ***
"We have to deal with all this while we remember it. If we don't we'll pass our anger down in our genes. It's the children who'll suffer." p.36
I didn't really know what to expect when I started reading Obasan ('Aunt'), by Joy Kogawa. In Holland World War II is the main war of the 20th century and the Canadians, Americans and British were 'the good guys' that liberated us. My father was imprisoned in a Japanese camp in Indonesia as a child, so the Japs were the bad guys (next to the Nazi's of course). And that's an understatement.
I am embarrassed to say that I never thought about what happened to German and Japanese people in the allied countries during the war. And I am certainly not the only one. I guess we are too busy over here thinking about what happened to 'us'. I was born 25 years after the end of the second World War but still I grew up with stories about The War.
And now I have to correct myself. Because Obasan is not just about Japanese people in WWII, but about Canadians. Issei, nisei and sansei (first, second and third generations) were all considered enemies of the state, even though they were Canadian citizens. Born and raised there. Their loyalty to the country made them co-operate to cruel regulations. They were sent to camps, disowned and often their Canadian nationality was taken from them. Like I said: this happened to Canadian-born people. And it did not happen to German-born Germans!
Of course it was not only their loyalty to Canada but also their cultural background that made the Canadian-Japanese do what their country asked of them:
It is always so. We must always honour the wishes of others before our own. p.128
Maybe the worst shock I got is that everything became even worse after the war ended. Japanese Canadians were not allowed to return home (their property was seized anyway), but sent to even more remote areas of the country if they were unwilling to go to Japan. Canada wanted to get rid of them. Pure racism - in Canada, of all places. If I can believe Obasan, the USA was less rough on its citizens. At least their properties hadn't been liquidated.
You can probably tell I am impressed by what I read. And I certainly won't forget it. Although there is a part that I found a bit slow, Obasan is well written and interesting. The mystery about Uncle and Mother made me want to go on reading, even when the story was a bit tough. Every Canadian kid should read this book in high school!
What is done, Aunt Emily, is done, is it not? And no doubt it will all happen again, over and over with different faces and names, variations on the same theme. [..] Is there evidence for optimism? p.199
I chose some quotations for this journal entry that suited what I wrote about the book. It means that I had to leave out the kind of quote that reminds me of favourite and emotional passages. Well, you can't have it all...
"We have to deal with all this while we remember it. If we don't we'll pass our anger down in our genes. It's the children who'll suffer." p.36
I didn't really know what to expect when I started reading Obasan ('Aunt'), by Joy Kogawa. In Holland World War II is the main war of the 20th century and the Canadians, Americans and British were 'the good guys' that liberated us. My father was imprisoned in a Japanese camp in Indonesia as a child, so the Japs were the bad guys (next to the Nazi's of course). And that's an understatement.
I am embarrassed to say that I never thought about what happened to German and Japanese people in the allied countries during the war. And I am certainly not the only one. I guess we are too busy over here thinking about what happened to 'us'. I was born 25 years after the end of the second World War but still I grew up with stories about The War.
And now I have to correct myself. Because Obasan is not just about Japanese people in WWII, but about Canadians. Issei, nisei and sansei (first, second and third generations) were all considered enemies of the state, even though they were Canadian citizens. Born and raised there. Their loyalty to the country made them co-operate to cruel regulations. They were sent to camps, disowned and often their Canadian nationality was taken from them. Like I said: this happened to Canadian-born people. And it did not happen to German-born Germans!
Of course it was not only their loyalty to Canada but also their cultural background that made the Canadian-Japanese do what their country asked of them:
It is always so. We must always honour the wishes of others before our own. p.128
Maybe the worst shock I got is that everything became even worse after the war ended. Japanese Canadians were not allowed to return home (their property was seized anyway), but sent to even more remote areas of the country if they were unwilling to go to Japan. Canada wanted to get rid of them. Pure racism - in Canada, of all places. If I can believe Obasan, the USA was less rough on its citizens. At least their properties hadn't been liquidated.
You can probably tell I am impressed by what I read. And I certainly won't forget it. Although there is a part that I found a bit slow, Obasan is well written and interesting. The mystery about Uncle and Mother made me want to go on reading, even when the story was a bit tough. Every Canadian kid should read this book in high school!
What is done, Aunt Emily, is done, is it not? And no doubt it will all happen again, over and over with different faces and names, variations on the same theme. [..] Is there evidence for optimism? p.199
I chose some quotations for this journal entry that suited what I wrote about the book. It means that I had to leave out the kind of quote that reminds me of favourite and emotional passages. Well, you can't have it all...
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 26, 2020
As an American, I have long known about the history of the US forcing residents of Japanese descent, including American citizens, into internment camps during WWII. I had never given any thought to what Canada did with residents of Japanese descent during the war. Kogawa’s story of a Japanese Canadian family during the war and afterwards is loosely based on her own childhood. I won’t relate all that occurred in the book since I encourage anyone who doesn’t know this history or who is eager to hear a voice from one who lived through the horror to read Obasan. But now I know that Canada, which I have always seen as more tolerant and beneficent than the US, was no better in this case and in one aspect worse than the US regarding its treatment of Japanese during and after the war.
Obasan is the Japanese word for aunt, and the obasan in this story is an incredibly strong woman. She has to raise two young children during the war and afterward who are not her own. She keeps the family together during the worst kind of mistreatment by one’s own country. The story is told from the viewpoint of Naomi Nakane, a Canadian citizen who was four years old when Pearl Harbor was bombed and who was raised by her great aunt whom she calls Obasan. The story is told by Naomi as a woman in her mid-thirties in 1971 and as flashbacks to her childhood. It is a compelling story of survival by a family that has tragedy forced upon it through no fault of their own during the war. It is a story of injustice and sadness, of determination and secrecy. It is a moving and necessary story, especially at a time when it is obvious that certain countries are still capable of seeing people living legally in their country as “other� and making their lives miserable so they will hopefully leave. 4.5 stars
Obasan is the Japanese word for aunt, and the obasan in this story is an incredibly strong woman. She has to raise two young children during the war and afterward who are not her own. She keeps the family together during the worst kind of mistreatment by one’s own country. The story is told from the viewpoint of Naomi Nakane, a Canadian citizen who was four years old when Pearl Harbor was bombed and who was raised by her great aunt whom she calls Obasan. The story is told by Naomi as a woman in her mid-thirties in 1971 and as flashbacks to her childhood. It is a compelling story of survival by a family that has tragedy forced upon it through no fault of their own during the war. It is a story of injustice and sadness, of determination and secrecy. It is a moving and necessary story, especially at a time when it is obvious that certain countries are still capable of seeing people living legally in their country as “other� and making their lives miserable so they will hopefully leave. 4.5 stars
November 5, 2017
Jeeeeesus christ.
I'd never heard of this book before having to read it for the Intro to Literature class I'm TAing for this term. Not sure how, actually, because turns out it's a Canadian classic (I'll blame it on my Quebec upbringing), and with good reason: it's important, but not only that, it's good. It takes the Japanese-Canadian narrative in World War II (in all its mindblowing horror), and renders it emotionally and, at times, quite poetically. It's a heartbreaking book, particularly when you realize the story isn't going to end without visiting the other side of the Pacific.
3.5 stars, and recommended CanLit reading.
I'd never heard of this book before having to read it for the Intro to Literature class I'm TAing for this term. Not sure how, actually, because turns out it's a Canadian classic (I'll blame it on my Quebec upbringing), and with good reason: it's important, but not only that, it's good. It takes the Japanese-Canadian narrative in World War II (in all its mindblowing horror), and renders it emotionally and, at times, quite poetically. It's a heartbreaking book, particularly when you realize the story isn't going to end without visiting the other side of the Pacific.
3.5 stars, and recommended CanLit reading.
April 7, 2019
The same friend who lent me Fifth Avenue: A Very Social History by Kate Simon also let me borrow Obasan by Joy Kogawa and I'm so glad that she did. I wasn't all that familiar with the Canadian Japanese experience during WWII, but I ended up being quite impressed with Kogawa's work here. The author's writing is compelling, beautiful, and incredibly evocative and heartbreaking. I have to admit that I was really pleased with myself for knowing the Japanese words used in the book. Overall, this novel is a must read for fans of lyrical historical fiction. I need to read Itsuka, the sequel to this novel, soon.
March 19, 2024
اصلا انتظار نداشتم انقدر خسته کننده باشه
عملا تا فصل آخر هیچ اتفاقی نمیفته
همون فصل های اول اشاره میشه به بلایی که سر شهروندای کانادایی ژاپنیتبا� اوردن و تا لحظه آخر رو همون مانور مید� بدون اینکه اتفاق خاصی بیفته که کشش داشته باشه و بخوای دنبالش کنی، بدون اینکه شخصیتی به دلت بشینه، بدون اینکه هیچ سوال خاصی برات پیش بیاد.
واقعا من نمیفهم� چرا اسم کتاب رو بر اساس اسم شخصیت اوباسان گذاشته بود وقتی انقد کم بهش پرداخته شده بود و مثل بقیه شخصیته� یه تصویر محو و فراموششدن� داشت.
اون اتفاق آخر هم چیزی بود که از اول میش� حدس زد و خیلی کتابای دیگه بیشتر و بهتر بهش پرداختن و با توجه به دغدغه اصلی کتاب اصلا تو اون مقوله نمیگنجی�.
خیلی ناامید کننده بود این کتاب برام.
چقد منتظر بودم بخونمش!
فقط دو ستاره رو مید� چون در مورد تاریخ آلبرتا جایی که زندگی میکن� اطلاعات جدیدی یاد گرفتم که از قبل نمیدونست�.
عملا تا فصل آخر هیچ اتفاقی نمیفته
همون فصل های اول اشاره میشه به بلایی که سر شهروندای کانادایی ژاپنیتبا� اوردن و تا لحظه آخر رو همون مانور مید� بدون اینکه اتفاق خاصی بیفته که کشش داشته باشه و بخوای دنبالش کنی، بدون اینکه شخصیتی به دلت بشینه، بدون اینکه هیچ سوال خاصی برات پیش بیاد.
واقعا من نمیفهم� چرا اسم کتاب رو بر اساس اسم شخصیت اوباسان گذاشته بود وقتی انقد کم بهش پرداخته شده بود و مثل بقیه شخصیته� یه تصویر محو و فراموششدن� داشت.
اون اتفاق آخر هم چیزی بود که از اول میش� حدس زد و خیلی کتابای دیگه بیشتر و بهتر بهش پرداختن و با توجه به دغدغه اصلی کتاب اصلا تو اون مقوله نمیگنجی�.
خیلی ناامید کننده بود این کتاب برام.
چقد منتظر بودم بخونمش!
فقط دو ستاره رو مید� چون در مورد تاریخ آلبرتا جایی که زندگی میکن� اطلاعات جدیدی یاد گرفتم که از قبل نمیدونست�.
June 28, 2018
I've been working on this book for a while, and I finally finished it this weekend. It was a really tough read for a few reasons - first, the language is poetic and flowery and very metaphorical, which makes it a hard book to pick up unless you're ready to really concentrate. Second, the book is about the treatment of Canadian Japanese people during the Second World War, and it's really difficult to reconcile the actions of the Canadian government with the way that most of us like to think of Canada.
(Some spoilers)
The book takes place in the 80's, when the narrator (Nomi or Naomi) learns that her uncle has died. Her aunt, Obasan (Japanese for "aunt" or "old lady") and her uncle (called only "Uncle) raised her after she was separated from her parents during the Second World War. Nomi is going through her uncle's belongings and remembering.
After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Canadians of Japanese descent were considered a threat to the West Coast of Canada. Their business licenses were revoked, and their business property (fishing boats, stores) were taken by the government and given to "good, hardworking" Canadians (i.e. white).
Then, any Canadian Japanese dual-citizens, or new immigrants from Japan, were sent back to Japan. This caused an uproar among the remaining people of Japanese descent, and the book includes a collection of letters written from Nomi's Aunt Emily to Nomi's mother, who has been sent back to Japan. This part of the book was an easy read - Aunt Emily's writing style is very concise and concrete compared to Nomi's. However, this is where we first get the full picture of what is happening in Canada - Nomi is only 4 years old when this happens and she is doing her best to understand why her family is broken apart and homeless, but obviously has a lot of areas of confusion, even with the help of hindsight.
Aunt Emily talks about how she is shocked that the international community isn't stepping in to stop Canada's actions in exiling the Japanese Canadians, how what is happening in Canada is exactly what the Nazis are doing and what Canada and America are supposedly fighting against. She keeps repeating, we are Canadian, we are Canadian, which is important to remember - in Canada, they were told that ethnicity did not matter, that as someone born here and raised on Canadian soil, you are Canadian and always welcome. It is becoming clear that this was a lie and that how you look is all that matters. She points out, the German Canadians were not exiled and have not lost their property.
The remaining Japanese Canadians are rounded up. Men within a certain age bracket are put into internment camps. The others are sent to "ghost towns" - former mining towns in the mountains which have been abandoned for years. Nomi and her family settle here, surviving off the land, until they are relocated again. They apply to the government for permission to move to the east coast, where Canadians of Japanese descent are allowed to live freely. Only Aunt Emily is granted permission, and she moves to Toronto.
When the war ends, they are relocated again to another town, a less remote town which has a school and amenities. Nomi and her brother are allowed to enroll at school, though they are still treated poorly by white students and teachers.
In the end, Nomi is able to piece together what happened to her parents - her father, who was in an internment camp, and her mother, who was sent to Japan. The book was an exhausting read and I finished the ending in one horrified reading session this weekend. I think it was a very important book to read (it was given to me in elementary school and I've owned it without reading it since then) and I think it's important these days especially, since it's possible to see how "protective measures" by the government can actually just be racism and xenophobia and can quickly spiral into the type of behaviour for which we condemned the Nazis.
(Some spoilers)
The book takes place in the 80's, when the narrator (Nomi or Naomi) learns that her uncle has died. Her aunt, Obasan (Japanese for "aunt" or "old lady") and her uncle (called only "Uncle) raised her after she was separated from her parents during the Second World War. Nomi is going through her uncle's belongings and remembering.
After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Canadians of Japanese descent were considered a threat to the West Coast of Canada. Their business licenses were revoked, and their business property (fishing boats, stores) were taken by the government and given to "good, hardworking" Canadians (i.e. white).
Then, any Canadian Japanese dual-citizens, or new immigrants from Japan, were sent back to Japan. This caused an uproar among the remaining people of Japanese descent, and the book includes a collection of letters written from Nomi's Aunt Emily to Nomi's mother, who has been sent back to Japan. This part of the book was an easy read - Aunt Emily's writing style is very concise and concrete compared to Nomi's. However, this is where we first get the full picture of what is happening in Canada - Nomi is only 4 years old when this happens and she is doing her best to understand why her family is broken apart and homeless, but obviously has a lot of areas of confusion, even with the help of hindsight.
Aunt Emily talks about how she is shocked that the international community isn't stepping in to stop Canada's actions in exiling the Japanese Canadians, how what is happening in Canada is exactly what the Nazis are doing and what Canada and America are supposedly fighting against. She keeps repeating, we are Canadian, we are Canadian, which is important to remember - in Canada, they were told that ethnicity did not matter, that as someone born here and raised on Canadian soil, you are Canadian and always welcome. It is becoming clear that this was a lie and that how you look is all that matters. She points out, the German Canadians were not exiled and have not lost their property.
The remaining Japanese Canadians are rounded up. Men within a certain age bracket are put into internment camps. The others are sent to "ghost towns" - former mining towns in the mountains which have been abandoned for years. Nomi and her family settle here, surviving off the land, until they are relocated again. They apply to the government for permission to move to the east coast, where Canadians of Japanese descent are allowed to live freely. Only Aunt Emily is granted permission, and she moves to Toronto.
When the war ends, they are relocated again to another town, a less remote town which has a school and amenities. Nomi and her brother are allowed to enroll at school, though they are still treated poorly by white students and teachers.
In the end, Nomi is able to piece together what happened to her parents - her father, who was in an internment camp, and her mother, who was sent to Japan. The book was an exhausting read and I finished the ending in one horrified reading session this weekend. I think it was a very important book to read (it was given to me in elementary school and I've owned it without reading it since then) and I think it's important these days especially, since it's possible to see how "protective measures" by the government can actually just be racism and xenophobia and can quickly spiral into the type of behaviour for which we condemned the Nazis.
August 16, 2015
Confusing and boring
I had to read this book for ninth grade honors English summer reading, so I may be biased. I thought this book would be about Japanese internment camps, but alas, that is not the focus. With the date constantly changing and pointless unexplained stories in the plot, I deem this one of the most boring books I've ever read. My favorite part was the letters in Chapter 14, I think, because they were actually what I thought the book would be about.
I had to read this book for ninth grade honors English summer reading, so I may be biased. I thought this book would be about Japanese internment camps, but alas, that is not the focus. With the date constantly changing and pointless unexplained stories in the plot, I deem this one of the most boring books I've ever read. My favorite part was the letters in Chapter 14, I think, because they were actually what I thought the book would be about.
July 12, 2019
The stockyards and slaughterhouses of prejudice (Joy's term) run strongly everywhere while common sense and compassion hide. Could this still be happening? I felt so much shame when reading this book and so frustrated at the injustices and stupidity from the Canadian Government. A Canadian is a Canadian is a Canadian who deserves the support of their country.
July 14, 2018
More of a 3.5
Was a good book, but I feel like some parts were too full of metaphors/similies. I really liked the bits with Aunt Emily.
Was a good book, but I feel like some parts were too full of metaphors/similies. I really liked the bits with Aunt Emily.
Read
January 19, 2025this was a very well crafted book and apparently was a very important turning point in canadian literature and I can very much respect the importance of this story being told. but dear god it was a distressing read, I felt sick all day after finishing it
April 3, 2015
In this time of bubbling racism and bigotry that percolates from the murky depths of hatred and narrow-mindedness, blinding Americans to the constitutional rights of citizenship and freedom of religion, it is a good thing to read of past mistreatment of minorities in this country (and in other countries as well). The forced internment of loyal Japanese Americans was a terrible blight on American history, and it is fairly familiar to most schoolchildren, largely because of books such as Houston’s Farewell to Manzanar. But the mistreatment of citizens of Japanese descent also occurred in Canada---in some ways parallel to that experienced in the United States, in other ways more severe and long-lasting. Along the western coastline, their property was confiscated (if not outright looted) and the victims were forced into holding facilities or to locations in the interior. Some could argue that it was necessary for wartime protection, but what happened thereafter was an even greater crime, as they were forbidden to return to their homes and farms following the war, and were made to disperse throughout the country or return to Japan. Their story is forcefully and beautifully recounted here (more a memoir than a piece of fiction), which has become her best-known work. Kogawa’s primary skill is poetry, and it shows in her prose. She lovingly, yet firmly, portrays the plight and resilience of a family as it deals with separation and loss, both of individuals and community (not once, but twice). An example of her prose is, “The dust, light-winged as soot, is swarming thickly across the flashlight beam. . . everything, I suppose, turns to dust eventually. A man’s memories end up in some attic or in a Salvation Army bin. His name becomes a fleeting statistic and his face is lost in fading photographs, the clothing quaint, the anecdotes gone. . . Potent and pervasive as a prairie dust storm, memories and dreams seep and mingle through cracks, settling on furniture and into upholstery. . .� Kogawa frequently shifts from the narrative into sidebars of near poetry. The story is told through the eyes of Naomi, a kindergarten-aged child, as she struggles to understand the loss of her parents (father was a doctor) and grandparents [as well as her encounter with a pedophiliac neighbor before the war], as her aunt (and later uncle) and neighbors are relocated to Slocum. The mystery of her mother’s fate, trapped in Japan when she goes just before the outbreak of hostilties to care for her sick parent and never returns, is slowly revealed. Her father manages to return, for a short while, but then likewise disappears from their lives. She is forced to live in a small home nestled near a mountainside, but at least they still have a community. After the war this community is destroyed and dispersed, and (as if they are being punished for their heritage) they are forced to labor on a beet farm (“perhaps some genealogist [sic?] of the future will come across this patch of bones and wonder why so many fishermen died on the prairies.�). Luckily, she has the loving care of her Obasan (aunt) and uncle (a master boatbuilder and carpenter), as well as her music-loving brother (determined to ignore his Japanese roots as much as possible). Although the story is sad, heartrending, there is also much beauty and love in it. I will likely try the sequel, Itsuka.
March 23, 2017
"...and I am reading the careful table of contents of a book that has no contents." (page 150). Funny quote because that is exactly how I felt while reading this book. I was assigned this in English class because our teacher wants to inflict severe brain damage on all of us. Obasan started out decent, I had my hopes in the beginning. The writing is mature, vivid and all around well done for the first 30 pages, several promising characters and some background information is introduced. Then the book really starts. The author decides that she is going to use these characters and real life events they went through to demonstrate her own past hardships. The conflicts presented in this novel are serious issues/events that need to be addressed but instead of communicating through the moral/message of the story the author manipulates events and characters to be able to voice her grievances. Obasan is a book about a women remembering events of her childhood and reflecting on the hardships she and her family went through. It is a series of memories/scenes that do not create a plot or story. This book is an unstructured mess of insightful mush and quotes and rants which build up to be a bunch of words on a pages with no real thought or plot line. Joy Kogawa has important opinions and first hand hardships to voice but a novel for not the platform to do so. This should have been an essay or an article, to write this as a fictitious story is obscene. Never again will I go near this book.
February 15, 2013
I read this for a women's social history class. Obasan is a story about Japanese-Canadians during WWII told from the point of view of a young Japanese-Canadian girl from Vancouver whose family's life and future is torn apart by the Canadian interment policies for that time.
It is a story that has not been openly discussed within Canadian history classes as it in juxtaposition to how we view ourselves during times of war. We are the good guys, the peace keepers, sometimes the heroes, but not the 'bad guys' who put people into less than liveable internment camps just because someone is 'other'. We are not the type of nation to steal what is not ours from those who are not 'us'.
The story is heart wrenching and hard to swallow as a Canadian. It brings up questions that we don't want face; would we do this differently now, did we learn from this event, are we any better than anyone else???
I think that we, as Canadians, picture ourselves very differently from other nations, and like to consider ourselves above the brutality of other nations. We take pride in being the amicable, easy going Canadians. We define ourselves as not American and are proud of that. We wear our Maple Leaf as a sign of that difference.
But, our 'memory' is shortsighted and fallible and Obasan reflects this in a very uncomfortable way.
It is a story that has not been openly discussed within Canadian history classes as it in juxtaposition to how we view ourselves during times of war. We are the good guys, the peace keepers, sometimes the heroes, but not the 'bad guys' who put people into less than liveable internment camps just because someone is 'other'. We are not the type of nation to steal what is not ours from those who are not 'us'.
The story is heart wrenching and hard to swallow as a Canadian. It brings up questions that we don't want face; would we do this differently now, did we learn from this event, are we any better than anyone else???
I think that we, as Canadians, picture ourselves very differently from other nations, and like to consider ourselves above the brutality of other nations. We take pride in being the amicable, easy going Canadians. We define ourselves as not American and are proud of that. We wear our Maple Leaf as a sign of that difference.
But, our 'memory' is shortsighted and fallible and Obasan reflects this in a very uncomfortable way.
February 25, 2010
After a bit of a dry spell with novels, Obasan for me was like an incredible waterfall of language and historical context. Kogawa is clearly a poet, which is vital to the telling of this narrative because the horrors faced by these Japanese-Canadian characters cannot be expressed in simple prose.
Set in Vancouver in the WWII era, this novel tells Naomi's coming-of-age story during intense discrimination and disruption to her identity and community. I read this novel while teaching Postcolonial Women's Novels, and what strikes me about this book is how ardently the characters claim their Canadian identity over their Japanese identity. A very different postcolonial perspective than the novels I'm teaching now.
But more importantly than any of that, this novel moved me to the core and taught me about a history that I new very little about. It's a beautiful, heartwrenching read.
Set in Vancouver in the WWII era, this novel tells Naomi's coming-of-age story during intense discrimination and disruption to her identity and community. I read this novel while teaching Postcolonial Women's Novels, and what strikes me about this book is how ardently the characters claim their Canadian identity over their Japanese identity. A very different postcolonial perspective than the novels I'm teaching now.
But more importantly than any of that, this novel moved me to the core and taught me about a history that I new very little about. It's a beautiful, heartwrenching read.
April 23, 2016
This is the first time I've read Obasan, a novel that is heart-wrenching in the pain it depicts and all the things it doesn't say. I can see why it had such an impact when it was first published as the first book which described the exile of Japanese Canadians. It is shocking and devastating to read of the pain that existed in my own country during the war and that was continued purposefully for so many years afterwards by a government fuelled by racist fears. For me, this book is a reminder of the need to maintain the rights of all, especially minorities in Canada. But it is also a compelling and poetic examination of silence and stories and the need for words to express even the most painful realities.
April 23, 2010
Obasan is a fascinating look into the lives and experiences of a Japanese-Canadian family from the perspective of an adult family member who was born and raised in Canada. Through this novel, the reader discovers what might be to some a surprising aspect of Canada's past: our attempt to remove all Asian immigrants from Canada after Japan's attack on Pearl Harbor.
This is the only book that has ever made me cry. I was genuinely caught off guard by the sheer devastation described in the last few pages of the novel. Juxtaposed with the passive, complacent attitudes depicted throughout the rest of the novel, it completely overwhelmed me. I highly recommend this book.
This is the only book that has ever made me cry. I was genuinely caught off guard by the sheer devastation described in the last few pages of the novel. Juxtaposed with the passive, complacent attitudes depicted throughout the rest of the novel, it completely overwhelmed me. I highly recommend this book.
April 21, 2014
When I was taking a graduate exam, I felt hopeless because I was unfamiliar with any of the assigned excerpts. But then I find the one titled Obasan and guessed that must be about Japanese immigrants. Who could write about them better than I do? So that saved my MA degree, and I determined to read the book some time later.
It took me 3 years to finally get to read the book, and all I can say is ”Depressing.� Grief seeps through every line. I didn't know that Canada inhumanly discriminated and oppressed Japanese Canadians during the war. Everyone should read the book and listen to its repressed voice of history.
It took me 3 years to finally get to read the book, and all I can say is ”Depressing.� Grief seeps through every line. I didn't know that Canada inhumanly discriminated and oppressed Japanese Canadians during the war. Everyone should read the book and listen to its repressed voice of history.
March 13, 2013
I can't remember the last time I forced myself to finish a book I was completely bored with. Seriously, this book is a lot of complaining, and a lot of nothing happening, and dashes of racism issues. That's all find a dandy, but give me a reason to care about your hardships. Call me cruel, but if your book lacks agency, it doesn't make for an interesting reading experience.
If I didn't have to read this for my job, I'm pretty sure I would have sent this one back to the library in a heartbeat. Such a boring, uninspiring read.
If I didn't have to read this for my job, I'm pretty sure I would have sent this one back to the library in a heartbeat. Such a boring, uninspiring read.
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