I read my first Ruth Ozeki book "A Tale for the Time Being" in February of 2020. It was unlike any book I had ever read. It was epistolary, because parts of the book were written in journal form. The book was centered around a girl's journal that washed ashore on an island in the Pacific Northwest.
One main character, teenaged Nao, lives in Tokyo. The other primary character, Ruth, lives on an island in the Pacific Northwest. The characters were rich and complex. I loved the shifts in point of view. I loved how their stories were connected, even though they were on different sides of the world.
Ozeki is excellent at grounding the reader in a place. I felt connected to the remote Pacific Northwest island and Tokyo. I have a very clear picture of the beach where Ruth found Nao's journal that is still with me today.
The themes of the book were deep: quantum physics, culture, Buddhism, teenage angst, and family struggles. Although I wouldn't call it a happy-go-lucky read, it was funny in places. It stuck with me, and was my favorite book of 2020.
"The Book of Form and Emptiness" is definitely as good, if not better, than "A Tale for the Time Being." I am pretty sure Ruth Ozeki is a genius. I don't know how her writing is complex and simple at the same time.
The main character, a teenager named Benny, starts hearing voices when his father dies in a tragic accident. He hears his pencil talking to him, a pane of glass, and all other manner of common items. The stories they tell are beautiful and painful and simple. It made me wonder if things do have voices. I love the stories behind items. Every item I own has a story and some are better than others.
Benny's mother, Annabelle, has a history of her own trauma, and after Benny's father dies, she begins to hoard. Of course, this makes Benny's situation more challenging, because all of those items have voices that are talking to him. Benny is clean and tidy and he keeps objects in his room that make him feel good.
Benny is eventually admitted to a psychiatric ward for children. There he meets a beautiful girl who wrote little notes on slips of paper. One of the notes said, "Come to the library."
Benny finds solace in the library and the unconventional friends he meets there. Meanwhile, on a shopping trip at Michael's a book on tidying (think Marie Kwondo) jumps into Annabelle's cart, and we are connected to the author's story. The author is a monk in Japan, and Annabelle starts sending her emails.
This book touches on so many themes: mental wellness, homelessness, hoarding, poverty, addiction, Buddhism, friendship, trauma, and the beauty of libraries. I would say this book has a happy ending, and I was surprised. I truly do wonder if some people hear voices that I cannot hear. Too often, these people get characterized as crazy or drug addicted, but I truly wonder if they are connected to a different plane of knowing.
I can personally connect to this book. I am not a hoarder, but I recently purged a 1,600 sq foot house before moving across the ocean with only 8 suitcases. The only things I have missed so far are my Halloween decorations. Funny, I know, but we all have our things. I would say my tendency to "hold onto things" has possibly increased since my move. I have definitely acquired more things than I need or use already.
I have always loved libraries, so I loved that the public library played such a prominent role in this book. I can imagine what it looked like from the outside. I can imagine Benny's carrel.
I loved that this book was written from the point of view of "the book itself." At different times the book would talk about how books feel and think and how they are written. It was very interesting.
I love this book, and it goes onto my very short list of books that I will reread. This book will not be for everyone. It is 500+ pages long. However, I read it in one week. Yes, READ. I did not listen to the audio book. I am back to reading, and it is a sweet reunion.
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