When I first read this in 2020, I thought it was a “fairly interesting collection” and I said I “hoped it would be creepier.” I rated the creepiness at around 2-3★, with Ono’s writing at around 4★. After rereading this in 2024, I’m much more of a fan (I am revising my rating to 5★) — I really liked the characters, and yes, it’s not creepy because that’s not particularly what Ono set out to do.
I think it’s because I read this immediately after Ono’s version of the 百物語, 鬼談百景 — there she was out to conjure fear. With this book, Ono is given the room to expand on her characters and their situations, their families and friends. They’re people, complicated by regrets and misunderstandings, and you get to join them in their many emotions complicated further by having to deal with ghosts.
✦ 奥庭より Shōko moves into the house left to her by her recently deceased aunt, which has one strange room, the entrance of which is blocked by a large chest of drawers. The strange room’s door keeps opening of its own accord, and Shōko can’t get it to stay closed.
Thoughts: First: Shōko’s second encounter with the ghost has got to be one of the creepiest encounters in the book: the door sliding open, the white hand grasping for the top, Shōko’s stunned paralyzation. It got me really interested in the rest of the book and kept me going.
But here we also have Shōko who is tired of the rat race and just wants somewhere to be — girl, don’t we all? She thinks she has found an escape with getting her aunt’s assets.
She grows to regret her lack of relationship with her aunt. Her aunt didn’t feature in her life, but she featured in her aunt’s. Her father sent his sister pictures of his daughter, and Shōko’s aunt kept them carefully — but he never mentioned it and she never came to visit her old, aged aunt, who died lonely and alone.
Shōko’s situation is a reality for some people — the last of their lines, and no second chances because before they realized it they were all alone. And also her aunt’s situation — she had remaining family but she still died alone because Shōko didn’t feel they were “close enough” to visit. Or maybe Shōko thought, why should I take time off for her?
That is to say, try to connect with your family because you don’t want regrets.
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✦ 屋根裏に Kōji lives with his wife Rie, two children (Mamoru and Natsuki), and elderly mother. His mother begins to talk about hearing, and seeing, “someone” in the attic, moving around and peering through the boards. However, none of the other adults in the house can verify this (although the youngest girl seems to be able to see something), and Kōji thinks age might finally be catching up to his mother.
Thoughts: Kōji’s mother put up with a lot: a philandering husband and in-laws that looked down on her, treated like lesser because she came from a less well-off family. Despite this, she was still the one who took care of and look after her in-laws — a tale as old as time. Kōji in turn wants to make life easier for the mother he loves.
(One peeve about this story — I don’t think Kōji ever tells us his mother’s name, which is awkward … the mother he loves so much goes unnamed for the whole story. We only know her as Kōji’s mother, and she’s defined entirely by her relationship to one man — her son Kōji.)
This story must have been a rollercoaster for Kōji — first thinking his mom is getting dementia, then realizing it might actually be supernatural, but with that painful thought that she might still get dementia someday. You have to confront the reality that your parents who always seemed to be there will not be there someday. They won’t be as healthy. Who will take care of them? Or how do you take care of them?
But also, while the kappa itself is not creepy for me (thanks to NatsuYuu’s kappa whom Natsume constantly has to bail out), the idea of hearing someone constantly walking around in the little crawlspace, every night — Jesus, that’s creepy af. And then for something to be crawling down the walls? Thank god Mamoru and Natsuki are small so they might forget the horrors yet.
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✦ 雨の鈴 Yuuko lives in an old house in a cul-de-sac. One rainy day, on her way home she hears the sound of a bell — and sees a woman in mourning clothes, walking without an umbrella. But when she looks closer, she realizes that although the woman is “walking”, she’s not actually moving, and despite the rain, the woman is not actually getting rained on.
Thoughts: This one has some great imagery, especially the opening scene: rain, the fallen blossoms, the sound of the bell, Yuuko with the umbrella. The fear comes with the impending death that the lady in mourning signals. お悔み申し上げます, she says, which seems to imply she is merely a harbinger — but who’s to say there would have been death if she hadn’t arrived? A question for the ages and one that’s left unresolved.
Probably the most straightforward scary tale in the story. While Yuuko and Chie are friends, this story is mostly about Yuuko, a young woman struggling to make a living as an artist and having to deal with a harbinger of death on top of trying to sell her handmade pieces.
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✦ 異形のひと Manaka’s father moved the family to some province when her father decided to take over her grandfather’s business after grandpa died. Manaka’s house, however, is one of those old, dark, poky houses … and she keeps encountering a strange old man inside the house, in places where he shouldn’t and can’t be — the kitchen, a poky closet full of random stuff, inside the bathtub full of hot water.
Thoughts: Ono has a wide range of characters in this book and sullen teen Manaka is one of my favorites — I just love her. You can practically feel her teenage angst wafting from the pages — I don’t have friends and I hate this place! — but it’s not so annoying because she really is having a hell of a time being the only one to see this creepy old man. And for the record, I agree with Manaka, just ’cause you live in some inaka somewhere doesn’t mean you don’t lock the door!
I also am kind of sus of her uncle — if he, the older brother, is not taking over the business, then why is he living in the cool building in the middle of a popular area? How dare he, tbh.
But anyway, Ono really writes Manaka sympathetically, in a way where you’re like, “You are such a teen, but I get it. The struggle of youths is real.” Manaka really is seeing something, but she thinks her parents think she’s going nuts, and she doesn’t know how to convince them — or herself, really — that there is validity to what she’s experiencing.
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✦ 潮満ちの井戸 Mariko’s husband, Kazushi, has taken to gardening. He spruces up the garden and even reopens the old well that her grandmother warned her could not be ingested and fits it up with a pump so they can use the well water to water the garden. Hindsight is 20/20 — this is when their troubles begin: the plants and trees die, a rotting smell pervades the garden, strange sounds from the garden.
Thoughts When I first read this story I felt it was the weakest in the collection. I remembered in Ring it was implied that Sadako’s mother got down and dirty with a sea demon, and that is sort of echoed here in that “there are undead things in the sea and they came to our garden well.” The water is undrinkable because it’s brackish (汽水), with sea water mixing in — and possibly undead things from the sea thus being able to come through.
The creepiest scene, for me, is when Mariko sees a hand trying to get through the window of her bathroom: the realization that whatever it is that has come through the well, it’s trying to get in. The realization that the thing, whatever it is, has been moving slowly closer and closer to their house, and it’s almost inside. And what does it want to do? What will happen if it does get in?
But my favorite scene in this story has got to be Dōbara. At first he seemed jovial, friendly — then he took one look at their garden and was like, “LOL I’m out,” and got the fuck outta there, never mind politeness. I mean, he was as polite as he could be in his fear, but not quite polite enough for Japanese sensibilities. Man, he even waived his fee, he just wanted to leave. Respect for Dōbara who was like, “I don’t know what nonsense you folks are up to here, and I’m not going to be part of it.” I salute thee, Dōbara.
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✦ 檻の外 Having finally divorced her abusive ex-husband, Mami has moved back to her hometown with her daughter Anna. Mami has her hands full holding down a job while trying to take care of herself and her daughter, and she needs a car. Enter her kōhai, Kengo, who scrounges up a cheap car that he promises has no issues. Except it keeps breaking down with no apparent cause. And one time, she sees a small child in the garage as she’s parking …
Thoughts: Probably my favorite story in this book. But, I’m struck by how annoyed I am with Mami in the first part — mostly because her “kōhai” is helping her out, actually doing her a favor, but she has the temerity to have what seems to me to be excessive demands.
I’ve been on the kōhai end of the equation, and I hate that. I don’t like that I have to help someone “just because” I’m their kōhai. Sure, as a sempai, you are also “expected” to watch out for and guide your kōhai. But sometimes, when you’re the kōhai, it feels like you’re asked to repay that kindness threefold, and that just rankles. It’s a system that’s open to abuse.
But then I remember she’s a newly divorced single mother spurned by her own family, who can’t count on her lousy, abusive ex to provide any kind of child support. She’s being this unreasonable because she needs and wants to provide for her child Anna. And that, I can respect. She’s being unreasonable because it’s not just her — her mommy powers are kicking in, and she’s thinking, “I have to have this, to make sure Anna is safe.” She kept Anna safe from her own father, she is not letting some fucking ghost get to her child.
This story is just so good, such a great story to end the collection on. This story makes you feel so many things — fear, yes, but also sadness and pity, and hope and sympathy and admiration. The juxtaposition of Mami and Anna, Hiramatsu and his father, and the unnamed mother and her child who died, make for moving comparisons. Mami is trying, and she wants to be as good a mother as she can be — but she has no support and no wiggle room. Maybe Hiramatsu’s father was the same, and he gave up on trying and just took out his frustration on his kids. The unnamed mother may have given up too — and unlike Hiramatsu’s father, she went all the way and killed her child, whether deliberately or inadvertently through neglect.
Three similar situations, all with possibly different outcomes. Parents are people too, with their own struggles, but the heartbreaking part is that the kids they have don’t get a say in what happens. God damn I love this story, and the creepy scenes are creepy af too, especially since they involve a small child. Also special mention of that one scene where Kengo’s dad was like “Mami, why don’t you marry Kengo and join our family?” KENGO? HELLO?
I think I want to reread the whole series now. I think Hata shows up again at some point, but I don’t remember Dōbaru showing up elsewhere. Also, can I hope for another manga adaptation, this time of the second and third books? Can I?
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✦ Final aside I also read the manga adaptation of this book, but only the other-language versions are listed in GR, so I’ll just leave my notes for that manga adaptation here. (Also, I now own three copies of the first volume: the mass market paperback, the hardcover, and the manga adaptation.) Anyway.
I really appreciated having visuals. Some of my imagined scenes aligned with what KATO Kazue drew; for others what I imagined was completely wrong, and Kato’s interpretation gave me clarity. Specific shout outs for:
1) KATO Kazue’s interpretation of Obana. Kato’s Obana is different from the original book covers: it’s amazing how different haircuts make different impressions. Kato gives Obana a fade, which makes him look less reserved/plain than the simple haircut he has in the book covers.
2) Dōbaru, who I imagined to be older and rounder, becomes handsome and strapping in Kato’s interpretation. I also, to this day, cannot imagine what Dōbaru could possibly have seen that would have given him such a fright, and I wish I knew.
3) The adaptation of 塩満ちの井戸. The visuals really helped up the creep factor. Also, Kato’s version of Kazushi makes him such a big, bluff guy that it endeared him to me. Also, Kato’s version of Mariko and Kazushi seem so much younger? I thought Kazushi and Mariko were in their forties, for some reason…
It was a fairly faithful adaptation, but there were some parts left out. The stories were abridged in some places — for example, only one of Shōko’s encounters with the ghost was depicted. She saw the ghostly pale white face in the darkness, but Kato didn’t draw the scene where she sees a hand groping for the top. Come on! That was one of the best scenes in the story!!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.