The Translation of Love

February 29, 2016
Kutsukake’s moving debut novel focuses on the intertwining stories of several protagonists in post–World War II Tokyo. Matt, a Japanese-American military man, and Kondo, a middle-school teacher with considerable language skills, both ply their trade by translating letters: Matt for General MacArthur, who has invited the Japanese people to mail him their thoughts, and Kondo on the black market, where he works weekends writing letters for lovelorn women to their G.I. boyfriends. Twelve-year-old Fumi, one of Kondo’s students, finds herself befriending the shunned Aya Shimamura, who was sent to live in Japan after internment with her father in a Canadian camp. Aya’s mother had committed suicide by drowning, and Aya keeps the stones that had been found weighing down her pockets. Fumi is desperate to find her older sister, Sumiko, who left the family to work as a bar girl in order to provide food and medicine for them. With Aya’s strong command of English, Fumi writes to MacArthur to ask him for help with locating Sumiko and bringing her home. The characters further intersect when Fumi asks Matt for help getting the letter to MacArthur. Kutsukake’s story is consistently engaging, though a smattering of unlikely plot points can be distracting. The result is a memorable story of hope and loneliness with a cathartic ending.

Aya Shimamura, just 13, moves with her father from Canada to Japan in the aftermath of WWII. Nancy Wu delivers this story of friendship and love in a melodic voice with barely audible inflections. Fumi Tanaka, Aya's new friend, asks her to write a letter about her missing sister to General MacArthur, who may be able to help. Later, Fumi and Aya meet Corporal Matt Matsumoto, a Japanese-American who translates letters for the general. As Wu's steady performance drives the story to its conclusion, she differentiates characters with subtle shifts in tone. Overall, Wu's voice acts as a beacon that directs listeners through the tangle of Japanese customs and code of honor. M.B.K. © AudioFile 2016, Portland, Maine