The Emissary

by Yoko Tawada, Margaret Mitsutani (Translator)

Overview

Winner of 2018 National Book Award in Translated Literature

Library Journal Best Books of 2018

Yoko Tawada’s new novel is a breathtakingly light-hearted meditation on mortality and fully displays what Rivka Galchen has called her “brilliant, shimmering, magnificent strangeness”

Japan, after suffering from a massive irreparable disaster, cuts itself off from the world. Children are so weak they can barely stand or walk: the only people with any get-go are the elderly. Mumei lives with his grandfather Yoshiro, who worries about him constantly. They carry on a day-to-day routine in what could be viewed as a post-Fukushima time, with all the children born ancient—frail and gray-haired, yet incredibly compassionate and wise. Mumei may be enfeebled and feverish, but he is a beacon of hope, full of wit and free of self-pity and pessimism. Yoshiro concentrates on nourishing Mumei, a strangely wonderful boy who offers “the beauty of the time that is yet to come.”

A delightful, irrepressibly funny book, The Emissary is filled with light. Yoko Tawada, deftly turning inside-out “the curse,” defies gravity and creates a playful joyous novel out of a dystopian one, with a legerdemain uniquely her own.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780811227629
Publisher:	New Directions Publishing Corporation
Publication date:	04/24/2018
Pages:	128
Product dimensions:	5.20(w) x 7.90(h) x 0.40(d)

About the Author

Yoko Tawada was born in Tokyo in 1960, moved to Hamburg when she was twenty-two, and then to Berlin in 2006. She writes in both Japanese and German, and has published several books—stories, novels, poems, plays, essays—in both languages. She has received numerous awards for her writing including the Akutagawa Prize, the Adelbert von Chamisso Prize, the Tanizaki Prize, the Kleist Prize, the Goethe Medal, and the National Book Award. New Directions publishes her story collections Where Europe Begins (with a Preface by Wim Wenders) and Facing the Bridge, as well her novels The Naked Eye, The Bridegroom Was a Dog, Memoirs of a Polar Bear, The Emissary, Scattered All over the Earth, Paul Celan and the Trans-Tibetan Angel, Suggested in the Stars, and forthcoming in autumn 2025 is Archipelago of the Sun, the final novel in her Scattered trilogy.

 

Margaret Mitsutani has lived in Japan since the mid-1970s and was a finalist for the National Book Award for her translation of Yoko Tawada’s Scattered All Over the Earth and winner of the National Book Award for her translation of Tawada’s The Emissary. She also translates Japan’s 1994 Nobel Prize laureate Kenzaburo Oe.

Editorial Reviews

"A mini-epic of eco-terror, family drama and speculative fiction. Tawada’s interest is satirical as much as tragic, with public holidays chosen by popular vote (Labour Day becomes Being Alive Is Enough Day) and a privatized police force whose activities now centre on its brass band. It’s this askew way of looking at things amid the ostensibly grim premise, and a sprightly use of language that makes The Emissary a book unlike any other."

Guardian

"A phantasmagoric representation of humanity’s fraught relationship with technology and the natural world."

Asian Review of Books - Brian Haman

"The Emissary carries us beyond the limits of what is it is to be human, in order to remind us of what we must hold dearest in our conflicted world, our humanity."

Sjón

"A Hieronymus Bosch–like painting in novel form. Tawada's charming surrealism imparts an off-kilter quality to her work that would make it feel slight, if it weren’t for the density, precision, and uniqueness of her mind. A slim and beguiling novel in Margaret Mitsutani’s enchanting and flawless translation."

Public Books - Marie Mutsuki Mockett

"Charming, light, and unapologetically strange...There’s an impish delight in [each] sentence that energizes what is otherwise a despairing note. Tawada finds a way to make a story of old men trapped in unending life and children fated to die before their time joyful, comic, and—frankly—a huge comfort."

BOMB - J.W. McCormack

"Recessive, lunar beauty [with] a high sheen. Her language has never been so arresting—flickering brilliance."

The New York Times - Parul Sehgal

"An airily beautiful dystopian novella about mortality. Tawada’s quirky style and ability to jump from realism to abstraction manages to both chastise humanity for the path we are taking towards destruction and look hopefully toward an unknown future."

Booklist - Enobong Essien

"Like sashimono woodwork, Tawada needs no exposition to nail down her dystopia. The Emissary achieves a technically impossible balance of open-hearted fable and cold-blooded satire."

Financial Times

"Everywhere in the Japan of Yoko Tawada’s The Emissary, strange mutations unfold. In the years (perhaps decades, or perhaps generations) since an environmental catastrophe, the basic tenets of biology have broken down. Children are born weak, with birdlike bones and soft teeth. The elderly, in turn, are youthful, athletic, seem to have been ‘robbed of death’. Men begin to experience menopausal symptoms as they age. Everyone’s sex changes inexplicably and at random at least once in their lives...Tawada has gifted us a quiet new magical realism for the Anthropocene."

The White Review - Rebecca Bates

"Tawada, who writes in both Japanese and German, uses a light tone that frequently leans into gentle abstraction and wry humor, producing a slim novel that charms as much as it provokes reflection."

The end of the world, with a side of hope - The Japan News - Kiri Falls

2018-02-06
In this slim, impactful novel, surrealist master Tawada (Memoirs of a Polar Bear, 2016, etc.) imagines a dystopian Japan reckoning with its own identity.In the wake of an economic and environmental tragedy that eerily echoes 2011's Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear disaster, the Japanese government implements an "isolation policy," cutting the country off from the outside world. Central Tokyo is deserted, the country's soil is contaminated, its plants have mutated, and its people are living under a capricious governing body that has not only waged a war on words (the term "mutation" having been replaced by the more agreeable "environmental adaptation"), but has proven to have a penchant for tinkering with the laws: "Afraid of getting burned by laws they couldn't see, everyone kept their intuition honed as sharp as a knife, practicing restraint and self-censorship on a daily basis." A writer unsettled by the turn his country has taken, Yoshiro's main concern is the declining health of his grandson, Mumei. In this new era, children are wise beyond their years, but their bodies are brittle, aging vessels, and the elderly have become a new kind of species, cursed with the gift of everlasting life, "burdened with the terrible task of watching their great-grandchildren die." Left in Yoshiro's care after the death of his mother and disappearance of his father, Mumei, feeble (and toothless) as he is, fills his grandfather's interminable days with life. Despite the gloomy circumstances, Tawada's narrative remains incandescent as she charts the hopeful paths both grandfather and grandson embark upon in their attempt to overcome mortality's grim restraints. Striving to persist in a time when intolerance abounds and "the shelf life of words [is] getting shorter all the time," Mumei's searching curiosity and wonder toward the world inspire faith that, even in the darkest of days, humanity cannot be forsaken.An ebullient meditation on language and time that feels strikingly significant in the present moment.

Kirkus Reviews