[Book Review] Michiko Aoyama, "Recovery Kabahiko"
In your work, relationships, or daily life, do you ever feel a vague sense of unease or suffocation?
Once people start worrying, the loop in their heads really does become impossible to stop, doesn't it?
Suppressing yourself to fit in with those around you, doing things you don't actually want to do. Forcing a smile when you don't want to, just because you don't want to ruin the mood. Pretending to agree that something is "interesting" when it isn't... and so on.
"If I reveal the truth, will I be ostracized? Will they understand?" "What if what I think is 'good' is actually wrong?"
I want an answer, but I don't even know who to talk to about it.
As someone who was holding onto that kind of pent-up tension, the novel "Recovery Kabahiko" by Michiko Aoyama was a book I read in one sitting, as if it were saving me.
The Jinx of the Hippo Playground Equipment, "Kabahiko"
The setting is a newly built condominium complex. In a run-down park nearby, there is an old, ride-on hippo playground toy that has a strange urban legend attached to it.
"If you touch the same part of it that you want to heal in yourself, that part will recover."
The toy, which eventually came to be called "Kabahiko," attracts residents of different generations and backgrounds as if they were being drawn to it: a businessman tired of living up to expectations, a woman struggling with her relationships with other mothers, a high school student who refuses to go to school, a track team member lost about his future, and a magazine editor confused by the distance between family members.
This book is a collection of interconnected short stories, each self-contained, and as you read about the worries of "someone" you might have seen somewhere, they overlap with the pain deep in your own heart, wrapping you in a strange sense of unity.
Kabahiko is just a piece of playground equipment, so of course, it doesn't speak.
It doesn't give advice either.
The word "idiot" is scribbled on its head, and the paint is peeling, but it just listens to you in silence with a somewhat comical expression.
However, by putting into words "what you want to recover" in front of Kabahiko, you face your own heart and realize important things "for yourself."
[Chapter 1] I couldn't help but cry at the waves of emotional ups and downs
The people who appear in this book are almost too kind and almost too serious.
That is precisely why the depth of their worries and the "waves of emotional ups and downs" depicted in the story hit home so realistically.
The story of Kanato in Chapter 1, in particular, struck a deep chord with me.
He used to be someone who "could do it," but faced with the reality that "there is always someone better" in a new environment, his confidence was shattered.
A small lie he told to keep up appearances with those around him.
That lie ends up cornering him even further...
The words of self-loathing that cross his mind. The pain of it made my chest tighten as I read.
"......It's a bit sad to think that even if you paint over something from above, the 'idiot' is still there underneath."
Erasing is different from hiding.
Even if you cover it up like that, it doesn't mean it never happened.
Amidst such inner conflict, while polishing Kabahiko, he was simultaneously touching his own wounded heart.
“There, there, there, there. Good boy, good boy.
Wait for me, I’ll make you clean now.”
The moment I read this passage, my tear ducts just gave way. They broke down in the very first chapter.
It’s already a perfect score that a child could face himself like this, but the kindness of erasing the graffiti on Kabahiko is worth 20,000 points, isn't it?
Perhaps because I have the perspective of a parent with a child, I couldn't stop the tears.
“Recovery” does not mean returning to the way things were
Reading this book, there was something that really struck me.
It is the idea that once something is broken or out of order, even if it recovers, it will never return to exactly how it was before it broke.
In society, being “energetic every day,” “not noticing wounds,” “enduring pain,” and “turning a blind eye” are considered virtues, but they are actually the opposite of virtue.
“It’s okay not to be energetic,” “Notice that you were in pain,”
“Take your time, and look at it gently.”
The scenery you see when you try that is not the same as when you were energetic. But that doesn't mean you need to be pessimistic about it.
Because experiences and memories of being wounded are added, allowing you to become a new version of yourself, different from before the recovery.
By recovering in that way, and changing little by little, humans grow and move forward. I realized that this applies to the human heart, the body, and human relationships as well.
Even if something is broken or lost, or if you feel out of sorts, it is not a sad thing. I felt that I could view it positively as a chance for “recovery” to become a new self.
A chain of kindness that goes around and around
As you read through the story, you learn that the name “Kabahiko” comes from the name of a young boy (Kazuhiko).
A mother’s small act of kindness to cheer up her timid only son. That small kindness goes around and around, recovering many people who visit this place.
The happiness and kindness of each individual influence one another, spreading in various directions, and making everyone feel happy... It is filled with the kind of warmth typical of Michiko Aoyama, and it is truly wonderful.
Without forcing yourself to “look forward!” or “get energetic,” after finishing the book, your heart naturally feels warm, and the days ahead feel a little more precious. It was a work that allowed me to soak in such a warm aftertaste.
On a night when you are a little tired from the daily grind, please do pick it up.
いいなと思ったら応援しよう!
よろしければ応援お願いします!いただきましたチップは大事に使わせていただきます。