RavePloughsharesHis approach to blending research and memoir imbues the lives of historical figures with a genuine warmth and care that is often missing from other approaches to reportage and history. No rigor is lost because of this love; in fact, Abdurraqib is even more incisive than critics who may have a bone to pick with the object of criticism. It’s through his love that he is able to reveal insights into the artists and performers themselves, as well as the way that history links to the present—both in his own life and in the wider world ... This is the type of criticism that can grow from a place of love: a criticism that refuses to fall into clichés or sensationalism, a criticism that addresses something more meaningful about its subject. It is a love that is willing to be clear-eyed, to everyone’s benefit ... There is power in a love that feels strongly enough to write itself into being, a power that can reach out beyond the book, grabbing the reader by the heart in a way that demands action ... While love propels much of A Little Devil in America, there is also a sense that there is still a limit to how much that love can do. For all the love I now have for Clayton, the love I send will not erase the years she was passed over by the industry, nor the suffering she experienced later in her life. Yet, in Abdurraqib’s work, I see the power of a love that leads to action—love that summons names and faces that deserved so much more, love that is able to peel back the superficial layers to let us explore deeper questions.
Kikuko Tsumura, trans. by Polly Barton
PositivePloughsharesWhat makes Tsumura’s novel so insightful is her ability to highlight the ways that our jobs unintentionally leech into our personal lives, dragging us into unhealthy investment in even the most pointless elements of the job ... Through the narrator’s experience working multiple, widely-varied jobs, the novel explores how quickly an unhealthy relationship with labor can arise, regardless of circumstance ... For a novel that so deftly explores the complex emotional relationship between work, identity, and the ways that capitalist systems shape how individuals understand the nature of a job, the ending feels a little saccharine. The narrator simply decides that there are no easy jobs, that all jobs will take something from you in some way, and that all we can do, as we try our best, is hope for a good outcome. The unsatisfactory emotional arc feels particularly stale and sentimental in contrast to the vibrant, sharply humorous commentary that Tsumura provides throughout the rest of the novel ... There’s No Such Thing as an Easy Job is a smart—and humorous—further exploration into the emotional toll labor can have on individuals in a hyper-consumerist, capitalist system.
Aoko Matsuda, Trans. by Polly Barton
RavePloughsharesMatsuda’s approach to her source material goes beyond a direct transfer of the narrative into a modern setting: she makes use of these tales in various ways to show how people use these types of stories to make sense of our experiences in the world ... The narrative tracks Enoki’s musings on humans’ desire to affix meaning and power onto things outside of their influence out of a desire to ultimately be able to control the things they can’t ... As Barton explains, \'Matsuda wants systemic change, and the feats of the imagination she conjures up should not be read purely as escapist fantasy but also a kind of training in grasping towards a better world.\' Like many fairytales and folktales, there is a sort of lesson within Where the Wild Ladies Are. But rather than offering a direct guide for change, the stories in the collection encourage us to change how we understand stories—whether that be the folktales we tell children or the larger national myths we hold on to as adults—and to see where we can break away from received narratives into new futures.
