Fukushima Dreams by Zelda Rhiando

This is a meditative novel about the effect of the Fukushima disaster on one estranged family. Sachiko and Harry, a Japanese woman and her English husband, have moved to the fishing village of Taro in Fukushima Prefecture. They have a baby son, Tasha. Harry was an English teacher, with plans on writing a book based in Japanese folklore, ambitions that have been put aside due to the obligations and pressures of his new family. This is something he greatly resents. Sachiko suffers from post-natal depression, something for which she has received little help.

At the start of the novel the tsunami hits and Sachiko is nearly killed. She awakes in a shelter for survivors, the whereabouts of her husband and son unknown to her. Harry has also survived, though we learn that for months he has been hoarding supplies in a secret den in the hills, planning on abandoning his wife and child. He also doesn’t know whether his wife and son have survived, but nor does he care. A deeply selfish man, he sees his wife and sons a burden and one that he is simply happy to have escaped from.

Yet Harry, now alone in the wilderness is soon visited by visions of his son, Tashi. Submerged in Japanese folklore as he has been, are these visions signs of his losing his grip on sanity, or are they actually demons come to haunt him? As the novel progresses, both characters grip on reality is threatened and the story becomes progressively more surreal and dark.

Both Harry and Sachiko are estranged from their respective families. Harry sees nothing in left in Britain for him and indeed this is one of the reasons he came to Japan in the first place. Sachiko for her part separated from her family after meeting Harry. They wanted much for her and were disappointed by her life choices. Now in the aftermath of the disaster, and separated from each other as they are, they are both adrift with no kin to fall back on. 

Having never been to Japan, I can’t attest to how accurate the author portrays Japanese society and the tensions that underlie it, but it certainly accords to what I’ve read over the years. The novel is particularly strong on this and the author highlights both the strengths and limitations. For example, early on in the novel we learn that post-natal depression is not something Japanese society really grapples with, that due to ideas of family probity neighbours are reluctant to interfere if they see a mother struggling and doctors just proscribe drugs. On the other hand, Sachiko also reflects on the strengths of the Japanese system, how the unspoken rules that keep people in line ensure an ordered and peaceable society, and that she allowed Harry’s constant denigration of such facets of Japanese life to influence and drive a wedge between herself and the systems which might have helped her in her time of need.

Fukushima Dreams can be seen as a meditation on the disaster, Japanese society, and perhaps most of all, bonds of family. For it is precisely because Harry And Sachiko have cut their ties with relatives that they are so adrift and thus vulnerable to mental breakdown. This is a deeply unsettling novel and at times upsetting and challenging, but it’s well worth a read.

3 out of 5 stars