vulpix's Book Journey

All the world's a stage And all the men and women merely players

I'm seeing a lot of misguided criticism in the forum and the reviews for this book! Am I here to tell you you're wrong? Yes, and I'm sorry. I'm also going to keep this review spoiler free, which means I'm not going to get to comment fully on my interpretation of the ending, but alas.

This book does not provide a straightforward narrative, nor does it provide a strong character or character development. That's not the point! And I'm going to convince you that that works for what Kitamura is doing (or what I think she's doing, because she's probably working on a much higher level than I was able to grasp).

Early on in the book, the (unnamed) narrator remarks to herself that the way her husband asked a question was "both direct and distressingly oblique." That is a perfect description of this novel. The prose itself is clear and sparse; Kitamura provides neat descriptions of what appear to be very normal human interactions and experiences. When they are all put together in this book, everything ceases to make sense.

The reader is left questioning what they just read. Was it two parallel stories sewn together? Was it a book from the perspective of a delusional character? Was it both?

However, Kitamura is not intending for the narrative arc to be the vehicle for her commentary. In this way, Audition is a commentary on the boundaries imposed on the novel as a form. Why must the author be restricted to the same constraints of time and space that reality is? Is not a (or the) point of art to comment on life by pushing the limits of what life itself can be? By working outside of these constraints, Kitamura is able to play with character in a way that straightforward narratives simply cannot. We can see characters in different roles and interrogate how different lives(??) would mould them.

This is not a character study, but a study of character. I saw some people complaining about the long monologue about performance near the middle of the novel. That was one of the most important parts of the book! At one point the character remarks to herself:

There are always two stories taking place at once, the narrative inside the play and the
narrative around it, and the boundary
between the two is more porous than you might think, that is both the danger and the excitement of the performance.

In this novel, performance refers not only to the narrator's career as an actress, but also to the performance of life itself. We are all, at every moment, playing a character, both to the world and to ourselves. In different situations and relationships, we play different roles. We are constantly being reframed and reshaped by our externalities. Who then, are we really? Who is anyone?

If you want to question your own existence, pick up this book! If you are looking for plot or for character development, you will not find it here. And that is not a flaw.

All the world's a stage And all the men and women merely players

I'm seeing a lot of misguided criticism in the forum and the reviews for this book! Am I here to tell you you're wrong? Yes, and I'm sorry. I'm also going to keep this review spoiler free, which means I'm not going to get to comment fully on my interpretation of the ending, but alas.

This book does not provide a straightforward narrative, nor does it provide a strong character or character development. That's not the point! And I'm going to convince you that that works for what Kitamura is doing (or what I think she's doing, because she's probably working on a much higher level than I was able to grasp).

Early on in the book, the (unnamed) narrator remarks to herself that the way her husband asked a question was "both direct and distressingly oblique." That is a perfect description of this novel. The prose itself is clear and sparse; Kitamura provides neat descriptions of what appear to be very normal human interactions and experiences. When they are all put together in this book, everything ceases to make sense.

The reader is left questioning what they just read. Was it two parallel stories sewn together? Was it a book from the perspective of a delusional character? Was it both?

However, Kitamura is not intending for the narrative arc to be the vehicle for her commentary. In this way, Audition is a commentary on the boundaries imposed on the novel as a form. Why must the author be restricted to the same constraints of time and space that reality is? Is not a (or the) point of art to comment on life by pushing the limits of what life itself can be? By working outside of these constraints, Kitamura is able to play with character in a way that straightforward narratives simply cannot. We can see characters in different roles and interrogate how different lives(??) would mould them.

This is not a character study, but a study of character. I saw some people complaining about the long monologue about performance near the middle of the novel. That was one of the most important parts of the book! At one point the character remarks to herself:

There are always two stories taking place at once, the narrative inside the play and the
narrative around it, and the boundary
between the two is more porous than you might think, that is both the danger and the excitement of the performance.

In this novel, performance refers not only to the narrator's career as an actress, but also to the performance of life itself. We are all, at every moment, playing a character, both to the world and to ourselves. In different situations and relationships, we play different roles. We are constantly being reframed and reshaped by our externalities. Who then, are we really? Who is anyone?

If you want to question your own existence, pick up this book! If you are looking for plot or for character development, you will not find it here. And that is not a flaw.