Akiko Thompson, the narrator in Kimiko Guthrie’s debut novel Block Seventeen, is the daughter of a Japanese-American mother and a white American father. Just like her mother, she is not particularly keen on her Asian heritage, so much so that in her teenage years she gave up the name “Akiko” for the plainer “Jane”. Shiro, her partner of five years and the father of the child to whom Jane is telling the story, is quite the opposite. Born to a Japanese-American family, he is obsessed with the injustice suffered by his ancestors during the Second World War in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor when, despite their patriotism and US citizenship, their fields and businesses were forcefully taken and they were sent to internment camps. Shiro, who is employed with the TSA, is convinced that the same sort of injustice is being perpetrated in present-day America. He is intent on turning whistle-blower and revealing the everyday racism of the organisation which employs him.

We learn that, through a strange coincidence (or twist of fate?) Akiko and Shiro’s families were in the same internment camp. But their approach to this painful episode in their families’ past couldn’t be more different. Akiko tends to play down these dark events by pragmatically trying to fit in. In Shiro, the collective memory spurs waves of righteous indignation. This friction starts taking its toll on their relationship.

But are painful memories so easy to suppress? In Block Seventeen the past haunts the protagonists’ present, both figuratively and literally. Jane and Shiro face a series of uncanny events, some of which can be easily explained away, others less so. These strange occurrences all seem to be prodding Jane into facing her past – not only her own, but also the “collective memory” of her family and fellow Asians.

The result is a novel which hovers playfully between psychological thriller, magical realism, ghost story and historical fiction. The mix isn’t always convincing and there are certain aspects of the story which remain frustratingly hazy. But Akiko’s endearing voice and wry sense of humour pull the novel through. I also found Japanese-American perspective very interesting, shedding light on a dark chapter in 20th Century history which I, for one, was unfamiliar with.

https://endsoftheword.blogspot.com/2020/07/block-seventeen-by-Kimiko-Guthrie.htm... ( )

Akiko Thompson, the narrator in Kimiko Guthrie’s debut novel Block Seventeen, is the daughter of a Japanese-American mother and a white American father. Just like her mother, she is not particularly keen on her Asian heritage, so much so that in her teenage years she gave up the name “Akiko” for the plainer “Jane”. Shiro, her partner of five years and the father of the child to whom Jane is telling the story, is quite the opposite. Born to a Japanese-American family, he is obsessed with the injustice suffered by his ancestors during the Second World War in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor when, despite their patriotism and US citizenship, their fields and businesses were forcefully taken and they were sent to internment camps. Shiro, who is employed with the TSA, is convinced that the same sort of injustice is being perpetrated in present-day America. He is intent on turning whistle-blower and revealing the everyday racism of the organisation which employs him.

We learn that, through a strange coincidence (or twist of fate?) Akiko and Shiro’s families were in the same internment camp. But their approach to this painful episode in their families’ past couldn’t be more different. Akiko tends to play down these dark events by pragmatically trying to fit in. In Shiro, the collective memory spurs waves of righteous indignation. This friction starts taking its toll on their relationship.

But are painful memories so easy to suppress? In Block Seventeen the past haunts the protagonists’ present, both figuratively and literally. Jane and Shiro face a series of uncanny events, some of which can be easily explained away, others less so. These strange occurrences all seem to be prodding Jane into facing her past – not only her own, but also the “collective memory” of her family and fellow Asians.

The result is a novel which hovers playfully between psychological thriller, magical realism, ghost story and historical fiction. The mix isn’t always convincing and there are certain aspects of the story which remain frustratingly hazy. But Akiko’s endearing voice and wry sense of humour pull the novel through. I also found Japanese-American perspective very interesting, shedding light on a dark chapter in 20th Century history which I, for one, was unfamiliar with.

https://endsoftheword.blogspot.com/2020/07/block-seventeen-by-Kimiko-Guthrie.htm... ( )

'We can't trust ourselves to be objective when looking back at our own lives; we're likely only to see what we want to in the present.'

Akiko 'Jane' Thompson is the child of a Japanese mother and an American mother, and the book (addressed to a 'you', whom we learn is Jane's child) looks back over the past year of her life, and covers flashbacks to her mother Sumi and family in Block Seventeen in an internment camp in Arkansas during WW2. Jane's boyfriend/fiancé, Shiro, works for the TSA (Transport Security) and is convinced of a conspiracy and cover-up at his work. Jane's mother has gone 'missing', although she continues to have an online presence and, very occasionally, speaks to Jane on the phone. And when strange things start to happen - Jane hears a baby crying in the next apartment (which is unoccupied), and there is evidence of a break-in but nothing has been taken - Jane's life starts to unravel.

This is an accomplished debut from Kimiko Guthrie, clearly based on personal family experiences. The themes of the internment of Japanese citizens and descendants during the war, of family history, of names and inheritance and identity - all of these are present, but they all fight for attention and never get fully explored. And then there is the presence of Buddhist tradition and folklore: the Jizo, protector of children, and the importance of the ceremony of Obon, to honour the spirits of one's ancestors. These are introduced quite late on the book but shed light on much of what has come before. Again, it just felt a little like the author was throwing everything into the mix, and the result is a little bit of everything - including important questions about mental health - just being slightly under-developed.

However, this is a promising debut, very well-written, that explores some dark and troubling issues. 3.5 stars, rounded up. Well worth a read. ( )