Book review: Tsugumi by Banana Yoshitomo

Banana Yoshitomo is one of my mainstream favorites (along with Haruki Murakami - sensing a trend here? ^_~). One day I dug Lizard, her short-story collection, out of the bottom shelf at Empik, and fell in love. Since then I've read NP and of course Kitchen, and Amrita's lying here and haunting me, with the bookmark in the second chapter since I came back from Ireland.

But for now, let's talk Tsugumi. Amazon tells me that the English title is Goodbye Tsugumi, which is interesting in a way I can't talk about without mentioning spoilers.

On the surface, it's two girls (or three, or three girls and a boy, or any combinations thereof) during the last summer of their teenage-hood. But Banana, in her quiet way, manages to convey depth and emotion through the simplest scenes. This is not so much Japanese as universal, a story that could happen anywhere, though I guess the Japanese setting helps the air of fleeting time and finality.

And most of all, this story is about Tsugumi. She's larger than life, a bright flame that draws everyone. She doesn't do much remarkable, but we see how she influences people. The way define themselves through her shows us how compelling she is.

It's a book that's hard to describe, but easy to recommend: read it. It's 150 pages in the Polish edition, 190 for the English one, and a single afternoon on a train. And it's lovely. Did I mention that already?

I finally found it

My androgynous icons? Are from ASexual Revolution, a photoshoot by Steven Meisel for W. Some higher-res scans are available on the Boyd Holbrook Fansite. And I need to make more icons.

Drabble: Viator (Van Helsing, angelically)

For shoiryu, who requested "Gabriel/Vladislaus... angelically!", a drabble and a half in 145 words. Plot point inspired by Hellblazer, though Hellblazer's Gabriel is a stuck-up git.


VIATOR (MESSENGER)

The first ray of sunlight falls on Gabriel's eyes, waking him. He sits up, reaches to the window. In his mind, memories.

The cold of the castle, the coarseness of the sheets are forgotten. Instead, he feels the brush of Raphael's wings, the heat of Michael's sword as they stood together. Watching the first light of the Word. Not looking at the empty place between Gabriel and Michael, where the brightest of them should have stood.

This is the way the sun shone over the ruins of Sodom. Over the bodies of the firstborn of Egypt. On the dark hair of a woman in Israel, when she smiled and cried at once, and Gabriel wanted to hug her, but he did not dare to.

For a moment, he remembers. Then Dracula's hands wrap around his shoulders, drawing him back into the darkness.

Gabriel falls gladly.

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In other news, despite today's flood of posts, I have a headache the size of Gibraltar and 3 hours of Oracle Database administration ahead of me. Argh.

Drabble: Perfectorial (Discworld, Susan/Lobsang)

For gisho: "Let's go old-school! Discworld, Susan/Lobsang."

PERFECTORIAL

The unspoken arrangement starts when Susan corrects Lobsang's tie the way she would Jason's, and Lobsang only smiles (Time, he is Time). She pretends not to notice when he steals the coachman's watch, sets it correctly and returns it (old habits die hard). He doesn't blink when she steps out of time (away from Time) because she forgot her hat.

By the time they're sitting on the grass, they've got the hang of it. Susan sneaks an extra chocolate from the heart-shaped Wienrich&Boetcher box while Lobsang ages the wine a little.

It's not a perfect moment, but it's close enough. They're only human (in part).

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Headache's strong enough that I wussed out of database administration. I'd take something for it, but that's impossible for other reasons, so I'm going to apply a kitty-compress and go to sleep instead :S