Nao-Cola Yamazaki – Contemporary Japanese Literature

Nao-Cola Yamazaki’s Beautiful Distance is a novel about a man watching his wife die of cancer.

The narrator, an insurance agent at a large firm, has been married to his wife for fifteen years when she’s unexpectedly diagnosed with terminal cancer. When the story opens, she’s already in hospice care and only has about a month to live.

This isn’t a medical drama or a story about resilience; rather, it’s a gentle account of a quiet death that files away some of the harsher edges of the wife’s illness but never gives the reader a false sense of hope.

Despite the seeming bleakness of the situation, Yamazaki’s writing is extremely gentle. It’s hard to believe that a person as sweet and kind as the narrator could exist, but he loves his wife unconditionally and is emotionally mature to an almost superhuman degree.

I’ve seen Beautiful Distance described as a love story, and it’s true that the affection between the narrator and his wife is a major element of the book and its appeal. More than anything, though, this is a story about accepting death and everything it entails, including the “beautiful distance” that will separate the narrator from his wife after she dies.

Admittedly, because the narrator is always on his best behavior, as are his wife and his mother-in-law, Beautiful Distance can sometimes feel a little shallow, especially as it shies away from more complicated emotions such as denial, anger, and the desire to find someone to blame.

Thankfully, the narrator takes on a bit of depth toward the end of the novel when he allows himself to express frustration toward the people who are unable to understand his situation. He becomes annoyed with a doctor who has trouble communicating, for instance, as well as a social worker who falls back on gendered expectations regarding caregiving instead of actually listening to what the narrator tries to tell her. These frustrations serve to make him feel more human, as well as to validate similar feelings on the part of any reader who’s had to deal with large healthcare organizations.

Still, Beautiful Distance is a very gentle book, and it blooms and breathes in the quiet moments of the narrator caring for his wife and his wife’s friendly conversations with the people who come to visit her in the hospital. This story is about facing death with dignity, but it’s also a celebration of living well.

If you suspect that this might not be the book for you, I’d urge you to trust your gut feeling. Still, I’m glad I read Beautiful Distance, and I feel like my life is richer for it.

Nao-Cola Yamazaki’s prizewinning debut novella Don’t Laugh at Other People’s Sex Lives is a bittersweet love story that, to be fair, is mostly sweet. There’s not much depth here, and that’s okay.

An art school student named Isogai has a crush on his painting instructor, a woman on the verge of middle age named Yuri. Partially on her invitation, he initiates a love affair. Their relationship is destined to end, but it’s nice while it lasts.

In real life, this sort of relationship isn’t a great idea for any number of reasons. In the romantic fantasy spun by Yamazaki, there are zero consequences, and Isogai and Yuri gently help each other realize fundamental truths about themselves so they can grow as people.

Yuri is something of a space cadet who moves according to her own mysterious whims, and her husband is a kind and loving man who gives Yuri the space she needs and supports her endeavors – even her affair. Meanwhile, Isogai is a sensitive young man straight out of a shōjo manga. He cries, he journals to process his feelings, and he notices whether women moisturize their elbows. He never gets angry or makes demands, and he accepts all of Yuri’s decisions with compassion.

Don’t Laugh at Other People’s Sex Lives reminds me of the worldview often expressed in Banana Yoshimoto’s novels: while the world at large is difficult and imperfect, it’s possible for two people to create a small refuge in the space between them. This novella was first published in 2004 during the cultural fallout of the severe economic recession of the 1990s, and I imagine that Yamazaki’s playful pen name and gentle writing style would have felt very refreshing and wholesome at the time.

As someone closer to the character Yuri’s age, this story was a bit too starry-eyed for me personally, but I imagine that its light humor, appealing characters, and (mostly) happy ending will be a source of comfort to readers looking for a short but sweet escape from the pressures of the real world in the form of cozy fiction.