Probably for the first time in my life I can say it: thank god I'm not from an English-speaking Country, where Mrs. Ogawa's works have not been translated with the same enthusiasm and promptness as my own.
"The Ring Finger" was a quick read, but not at all bare of deep meaning.
A young girl in her twenties, whose name is not revelead, loses the tip of her ring finger in an accident while working in a lemonade factory and she watches helplessly as her flesh floats in the fizzy drink.
Soon after, she finds employment for a strange, extremely reserved scientist, whose job is to preserve people's personal mementos. Be it an object, a dead animal, a scar on a cheek, everything can be preserved in his huge lab and those who pay to leave it to him, can go back there to see what they left, whenever they feel like it.
Strangely though, nobody ever comes back...
The girl welcomes the customers, makes them feel at ease, makes sure of writing down the tag for the "memento"'s box and can explore the building, except for where the scientist actually carries on the preservation procedure.
The man shows an ambiguous interest toward the girl, and buys her a new pair of shoes, asking her to wear it every time she goes outside - be it to come to work or go grocery shopping. After giving her the present, they have sex, the girl never removing the boots.
From that point on, they start an awkward relationship, where the scientist decides whether they should have sex together, or not. She's completely happy to be at his mercy - literally - waiting for him to call her and have sex in the bathroom of the building, or just say goodbye and go back home.
This short story is actually a very powerful one. The mementos people pay the scientist to keep and preserve for them, are in reality the sad, heartbreaking memories they cannot bear to keep with them. Paying someone to relieve them of their burden, helps them getting free of the most depressing, upsetting moments of their lives and carry on.
The girl with her mutilated ring finger feels already like one of those things. Without a name, any dream for the future, any higher aspiration for her life, feels perfectly content to alienate her whole self to the man, waiting for him to tell her if he wants to fuck her or not, ordering her to keep the shoes on her feet, until it "becomes an indivisible part of her body".
All those tokens the customers bring to the scientist are related to death, and the girl herself is so willing to put an end to her own, that she hopes the man will make her his own "memento", giving her a meaning, making her important for someone.
It's a terribly melancholic and even tragic desire to have, but easily understandable. Who hasn't, at least once in their lives, wished to free themselves of the fears and most sad thoughts? To depend entirely on somebody else and just stop struggling?
Yoko Ogawa never disappoints and I'm genuinely a big fan of hers, now.