Hooked by Asako Yuzuki review – the follow-up to the global hit Butter | Imagination in translation

AThe international bestseller “Butter” by Saku Yuzuki was a taste sensation based on the true story of a Japanese serial killer and gourmet chef who conned and poisoned male victims with her culinary offerings. In an attempt to get a scoop, a journalist reaches out to the condemned prisoner by asking her for recipe tips, and gradually reevaluates her life and values ​​as a result of this strange relationship. One review described the book as “The Martha Stewart Show meets The Silence of the Lambs,” but in addition to the crime thriller/foodie mix, a critique of capitalist society and deep misogyny also emerge from the narrative. Yuzuki’s prose style, a mixture of the banal and the profound, proved to be catnip for sales.

Hooked is a follow-up for English readers, although it was written earlier, in 2015, and like the previous novel it has been translated with crackling verve by Polly Barton. Although it is a more introspective work, its complex plot and uneven trajectory make it a relentlessly fascinating experience. Butter fans may view it as an experimental experiment.

The book again features two women, Shoko and Eriko, living in Tokyo. One is a laid-back, unambitious “stay-at-home wife,” the other is a perfectionist pilot in a senior position at a seafood company. They are both 30, an age that, in Yuzuki’s telling, spells disaster in Japan for unmarried women who are no longer “girls.” During her long office hours, Eriko becomes addicted to Shoko’s pseudonymous, self-deprecating blog, The Diary of Halle B, The World’s Worst Wife, and manages to accidentally meet the blogger at a café Shoko mentioned in one of her posts. They are successful at first, but Eriko pushes hard for an all-consuming friendship. A terrified Shoko backs down, and Eriko begins an increasingly aggressive campaign of stalking and blackmail.

It forces open-ended suspense, as does a deep dive into both the characters and their motivations. Eriko is emotionally undeveloped, with a meticulously maintained outer shell. People avoid it, especially women; She longs for a “best friend”, after losing one at school due to a controlling freak. In the work, she takes on the story of the Nile perch, excessively identifying with this fish that devours all other fish in its attempt to survive, a metaphor used very liberally throughout the book. “She was not alone, because inside that huge body she contained the souls of hundreds of thousands of the creatures she had eaten.”

Shouko is also friendless, if only with her husband Kensuke, whom she underestimates as a harmless clown. In the age of Instagram and TikTok, the focus on the blogging world now seems outdated, but as technology advances, the fears that fuel it don’t change. “The essence of blogging is to expose the public details of your life and then sell them piece by piece,” Shoko says. “To discredit a blog is to discredit its entire existence.” In addition to feelings of loneliness, both women struggle with their perceived roles. At the beginning of the novel, Eriko tries to justify her lack of female friends with the scourge of the office. Shoko, grateful that her husband does not make too many domestic demands on her, resents the assumption that she will be the one to care for her elderly father in a remote province, when her two brothers live nearby. Her father allowing his house to be overrun by trash and cockroaches heightens the feeling of impermanence and decay; Even when Eriko, who suffers from an eating disorder, abandons her strict regimen.

Sometimes, it feels as if this strangely similar couple is peering into the light of the 21st century. However, while Hooked wears its black comedy aura lightly, and its political statements more heavily, there are oddly comic aspects, such as a randomly contrived subplot in which a popular office temp turns out to be a psychopath. The most interesting thing about Hooked is that it doesn’t wallow in easy answers. And the ending, when it finally arrives, tones down the maddening drama to end on a calm, even philosophical note.