Creative Award Impressions: Death Song

A confession of life tasted beyond the mist

I have read Leon Saruogi's "Death Song".

The first thing that surprised me when reading the work was the strange texture of its worldview.
A road leading deep into the mountains. A smartphone with no signal. And a Casio Pro Trek watch, stopped with its left hand pointing at "15:23".

Because these realistic small items are carefully stacked, the ivy-covered monastery and the bizarre existence of the "Last Supper Restaurant" appear all the more realistic.

While reading, I felt this work not as a fantasy, but as an account of an experience in a place that actually exists somewhere.

Small animals in charge of cooking, a teacher who is a Blakiston's fish owl with human intelligence, and a mysterious chef. If you list them, they are all elements of a fairy tale, but the atmosphere drifting about is rather one of quiet terror.

What was particularly impressive was that the description of the food and the sense of unease coexisted.

Every time beautiful dishes were lined up, I didn't feel relieved, but rather turned the pages while feeling, "Why am I wary of such beautiful things?"

The smell of the mist, the cold air of the mountains, the heat of the dining table.
It felt as if all of that was touching my five senses directly, and I enjoyed a "reading experience of immersion into the world" to my heart's content.

Louis's loneliness

Many charming characters appear in this work.
However, the one I was most drawn to was the existence of Louis.
He is very beautiful. But there is a shadow somewhere in that beauty.

Not knowing who he is, yet still performing his daily work and continuing to smile at people. Watching him, I was made to think, "Can people move forward even if they lose their past?"

Yuji, on the other hand, also lives while carrying the weight of his past choices and reality.

That is precisely why, despite their completely different circumstances, they appeared to share a somewhat similar loneliness.

In a story where unsettling events continue, the casual conversations the two exchange are a fleeting respite for the reader as well.

I did not feel their relationship was either friendship or romance.
Rather, I thought of them as "lost souls" who happened to meet in the middle of life.

That is why, as the story headed toward its conclusion, the time the two shared began to seem irreplaceable.

Looking back after finishing it, I think what remained in my heart was not the major events, but the quiet time that flowed between the two.

This was a story of "time"

When I started reading, I thought this work was a fantasy tale set in a mysterious restaurant.

However, as I continued reading, that impression gradually began to change.

I started to wonder if what this work is truly depicting is not the food itself, but rather the regrets, memories, and choices that people continue to carry with them.

That is what I began to think. And after finishing it, for some reason, what remained in my mind was not the food, but a "clock."

The Pro Trek depicted so impressively at the beginning. And the other clock that appears symbolically toward the end.

I felt that these were not merely props, but reflections of the very time the characters had walked through.

In particular, the "slight change in time" depicted at the end of the story is a very quiet scene, yet it leaves behind a mysterious lingering effect.

I felt as though I saw in it a small hope that "the time we have spent never truly disappears."

Of course, I do not know if that is the correct way to read it.

But after I finished reading, when I cast my eyes down at my own wristwatch, the minutes and seconds ticked away by the hands looked just a little bit different.

"Death Song" is a story of gourmet food and fantasy, but at the same time, it was also a story of time and memory.

It gently touches not the reader's stomach, but the regrets and wishes deep within their heart. I think it was a work that possessed such a quiet power.
I think it was a work that possessed such a quiet power.

<Introduction of the Author>

When I think of Leon Saruogi, the first things that come to mind are "alcohol (beer)" and "food." He is someone who pulls those together with a unique humor and sharpness to craft a "work."

Ever since I heard his voice on a Space broadcast, he became "someone with an ennui-filled atmosphere who also has an incredibly bright and hearty way of laughing."

In that sense, perhaps he originally had a duality, or rather, an unexpected side to him, but this work truly caught me off guard.

"Wait! This is completely serious!" (No offense intended!)

It is writing that shows the "essence" of the author, something I could never have imagined from his usual note articles.

The theme is also philosophical, and the catchphrase "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here." is a famous passage written on the gates of Hell in Dante's "Divine Comedy: Inferno."

The story is also... oh! Shoot, shoot, I'm starting to write my impressions again!

In any case, this is a work that I want everyone, whether they know Saruogi-san or not, to read at least once!

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