The gist: I’ve seen people refer to this book as a ‘dystopian thriller’. But I don’t think thriller encapsulates the sense of pervasive calm, the feeling of inevitability that Ogawa so perfectly steeps the novel in.
The Memory Police has an almost dreamlike pace to it, and it was a book that I took my time with, lingered over. It’s both beautiful and haunting. Where other novels might throw in explosions, here there’s moments of tenderness, moments of thoughtfulness. You find yourself holding your breath in the fragile peace. It’s horror whispered in the quietest of tones, which makes it all the more sinister.
The novel has layers to it that I’m still unwrapping after the reading. Fable, allegory, meditation. It’s all of these things and more.
It’s the first of Ogawa’s books that I’ve read and it’s not going to be my last.
Absolutely recommended.
Favourite line: Memories are a lot tougher than you might think
Read if: You want a quietly haunting read that you’ll want to linger over
Read with: A stretch of uninterrupted time

Will be posting the review to www.thedustlounge.com in the next few weeks

The Memory Police is a novel by Yoko Ogawa which was actually published in its original language (Japanese) in 1994 and was only recently translated into English. I must confess I had not heard of this author before, but the book came to my attention as it is currently shortlisted for the Man Booker International Prize.

I am very glad this has been translated for the English speaking audience and that I was able to read it. Though the synopsis may lead one to categorise this as a dystopian science-fiction novel, which it is, I found it to resonate with me in a more personal way. Dystopian novels are not novels which I am usually drawn towards, I can only at the moment recall reading Nineteen Eighty-Four (George Orwell) and Blindness (Jose Saramago) from that genre, but I think that with The Memory Police it is best to not get too bogged down in the mechanics of the plot or the semantics of categorisation.

The way I saw it, the plot and the dystopian setting were a way of considering the theme of memory. The author has said in an interview (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mYuALc5LWy8&feature=emb_title) that she was inspired to write this book by reading The Diary of Anne Frank . In considering what the experience of being kept in enforced isolation and confinement does to the intrinsic nature of human beings, Ogawa has opened a pandora box of questions.

To what extent does the act of remembering make us less or more human? Is it intrinsic to our identity? How much of us is made of our memories? What is the subversive power of remembering?

These questions around memory loss can be applied at an individual level as much as at a societal level.

What are we losing as a society when we forget parts of us? What does the importance we attach to the preservation of certain aspects of our culture and history vs. other aspect say about us?

Ultimately the questions the novel raises also fundamentally touch on the inevitability of loss, the passage of time and the symbolism we do or don't associate to life's mementos.

This book is ripe for a second reading as, by the end of it, I was left with more questions than answers - but is that not what we ask of our books?

Many thanks to Random House UK, Vintage Publishing and NetGalley for sending me a copy of this ARC in exchange for an honest review.

#TheMemoryPolice #NetGalley

A book set up in dark dystopia with extremely sensitive story Yoko Ogawa has proved that she is one of the greatest authors of the time. The complexion of story is weirdly neat & expressed as real as it could be.

The fusion of two plots - a novelist and her final manuscript which much reates to the protagonist's life where she turns into void with every disappearance on the island is exceptional.

The Memory Police will take away everyone who keeps memories of disappearances, the people who are not forgetting are in danger of life but the people who are forgetting are gradually creating cavities of emptiness in their hearts.

First the various articles, then the birds, the rose garden everything seems to be disappearing, even art and occupations, eventually the author's full time job as novelist disappears as the novels disappear too.

Once a thing disappears it will seem worthless and people will no more relate to them. The memory police will take care that the disappeared things are destroyed. They will conduct regular inspections and get hold over people who bear memory of the lost things.

People with memory are in terror, hiding places are often discovered. This is a big threat when the the author is herself hiding her Editor within a hidden room. She will do every possible thing to keep him safe and out of reach of memory Police.

But things are disappearing faster than usual and the disappearances are turning from glorious to tragic which will lead to a world of people with memory, and those who experience the disappearances will turn into void with just a hollow body. They will get absorbed and so will the author.

Every moment in the book is struggle against not being discovered by memory Police, then it is the loss, the terror of R (her Editor) being discovered, the loss of the old man who is her only support in the open world beyond R and then are the disappearances. Every moment after 23rd chapter made my heart beat, I placed my hand over but it was throbbing. At a moment I regretted reading but it was totally worth.

I loved this book! It was magical, enthralling and kept me wanting to read more. Thank you netgalley for the opportunity to read this title in exchange for an honest review.

How do I even begin to review this book, The Memory Police? Shall I begin with the beginning, or shall I talk about the ending, which was no ending at all, only a beginning of many beginnings that were to come. Or shall I talk about how unsettled I had become while and post reading this book? And you’d wonder Why? Well, for me this book was a metaphor of life and death. It reminded me of all the people, who one after another left me and embarked on a journey beyond death. Leaving me with myriads of memories – happy or otherwise – came crashing into each other, even though it didn’t talk about the happy times or the sad days of the novelist. No. It talked about disappearances.

Disappearances – Birds, books, boats, roses, and maps are among the objects that “disappeared” – that kept happening in her life and that of the many residents of that little Island and then, forgotten forever. And those who remembered, disappeared themselves, leaving only memories behind. ⁣⁣
⁣⁣
Slowly, the life on the Island becomes macabre, as the disappearances accelerates, the now turns to then, and then turns to nothing. And all of a sudden a realization dawned on me that life in the end is nothing but a mere disappearance and the memory of it scrubbed clean over time.

I was shaken and blown away by the explosion created by Ogawa’s quiet, melancholic yet graceful writing that filled up all the empty spaces in my mind with a wistful, mournful, but moving short sentences. I am glad that the author doesn’t explain everything to the readers. She leaves it for us to decipher the meaning. ⁣⁣

“The meaning isn’t important. What matters is the story hidden deep in the words. You’re at the point now where you’re trying to extract that story. Your soul is trying to bring back the things it lost in the disappearances.” ⁣⁣

In the end, there was nothing left, but a lump in my throat; trying to free itself through my eyes….⁣⁣

Yōko Ogawa’s The Memory Police was first published in Japan in 1994 and intricately translated by Stephen. Not for a moment, did I think that the book was loosely translated? No. For me, The Memory Police turned out to be a work of art in every aspect.

Thanks to Random House UK, Vintage Publishing and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
#TheMemoryPolice #NetGalley

The comparisons between 'The Memory Police' and '1984' may not be quite apt, what is not in doubt, however, is that this is an extraordinary tour-de-force of a novel. Yoko Ogawa is an inimitable talent and deserves all the plaudits she has received for a dystopian thriller of incomparable imagination. Artfully crafted, told in beautiful, luminous prose, this book stayed with me long after the last page was turned. The philosophical underpinnings of the book are important, of course, the power of memory and the terror of forgetting, but there is more to this book than what is explicitly said. In microcosm, or distilled in novelistic form, if you prefer, 'The Memory Police' is a powerful meditation on the human condition, and, if such a thing exists, the collective memory of a particular community of people. After all, what are we without memory? As individuals, as a collective consciousness, without memory? What distortions arrive when memory becomes a tenuous, finite thing? Who are we without our history, and perhaps less existential and more reality-based, what role does selective memory play in in the stories we tell ourselves and others? Not only as individuals, but more pertinently, given the political and humanitarian convulsions of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, what role does forgetting and not-forgetting play in our national stories? The examples are legion - from the Holocaust and Fascism, to Communism and racial inequality. Witness the present preoccupation with deeply contentious historical figures in light of the Black Lives Matter Movement, which is fundamentally about the conflicting narratives that arises from the selectivity of facts, that inevitably cedes into memory, or, at times, into forgetting. Ogawa's book provides a powerful blue-print on which these philosophical musings can be explored and arraigned. Like 1984, in one respect, it is an enduring story where we confront the often seamless transition from truths to untruths and yes, once gain, the often disparate and selective stories we tell ourselves and others. Powerful and poignant, this is once book that deserves not to be forgotten.

I love the cover of this book but unfortunately didn’t love the book itself! I was really excited by the premise of this story but having read it felt like there was so many unanswered questions and no real plot. There is no explanation as to why these things go missing or the history of the memory police, I feel like things could have been explored a lot more. It was also very slow paced and for a short book seemed to take me a while to get through.

Thanks to NetGalley for providing an ecopy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

I am always up for a remake of 1984. Any time-period, technology, social controls - you give me an oppressive government (loosely or otherwise) based on real life, and I will give you my full attention... Well, I will if the book is what it purports itself to be. And, though initially Yoko Ogawa's The Memory Police followed a much-loved formulae, it very quickly tumbled into something unrecognisable. The novel's first act crested, proud (and as it should be) of a story of Japan and forgotten memories and suddenly, the world-building was swept aside - artfully crafted elements blown to dust and replaced with convoluted vagaries. The terror, the threat of surveillance and the constant danger of living in a dystopian world all vanished in favour of some ill-devised love affair that made little-to-no sense in the context of the world. Almost as if the literary government had stomp on in and rewritten the latter passages.
It was odd, to say the very least.
And honestly, though I have read a lot of books over the years, I have to say that I have never experienced such a stark tonal shift in my life.

I’m halfway through the International Booker Shortlist and this was definitely a great pallet cleanser after the violence of ‘Hurricane Season’ and the Wasp Factory nature of ‘The Discomfort of Evening’. This book is delicate and calm. It owes a lot to ‘1984’ however we are more of a citizen living outside the government buildings and told from the point of view of someone who quietly accepts the world they live in.

I was immediately swept into the the richly-imagined world that is so cleverly created by Ogawa - and translated into English by Stephen Snyder - from the first page. While I really enjoyed finding out how the disappearances throughout the book would affect the protagonist's relationships and her work as an author, I would have liked to find out more about the workings of the The Memory Police themselves.

It is undoubtedly an excellent work of translated fiction but overall it just wasn't for me. The story could have gone in many different directions and rather than loving the destination, I'm left thinking about where else it might have ended up.

Thanks to Vintage for the opportunity to read this via NetGalley.

I just loved this book, the writing is absolutely mesmerising, I just couldn't put it down.

The book is set on an island in Japan. Things are disappearing from the island and once gone no one remembers they even existed - except for the few, and they must hide from the Memory Police.

Whilst I was reading this book it reminded me of so many other stories and experiences. The way the characters can't remember items once they disappear reminded me so much of someone with Alzheimer's. At first I thought that all the islanders must have Alzheimers disease. The people that go into hiding and are hunted down by the Memory Police reminded me of Anne Frank and the persecution as people were led away.

The book is set in Winter and you can feel the chill as you read, both in the weather and the storytelling. I found it most atmospheric to be reading it at Winter time as the author is describes the snow scenes. Although you don't get to know the characters too well what you do get is their thoughts and feelings and their experiences of loss at a very deep level.

There is also a book within the book. It's one that the novelist is writing and soon there are similarities between her writing and what is happening on the island. I loved the book within just as much as the main story especially as it brought back memories of typing school and the use of typewriters.

I really could just read it all over again as it was such a lovely experience.

Weird and wonderful story about an island where things go missing, Inside the book is another story, which is sort of based on the main story.. Very compelling, and an unexpected ending

The Memory Police are a bureaucratic menace that are slowly making things on the island disappear and with them all memory of those things in the inhabitants. Unless you are one of those whose memory somehow stays intact, something that puts your life in danger, the reason that those people begin to disappear.

Our narrator has lost both parents, taken by the police and no longer heard of, but her mother has tried to preserve and hide some of the things that disappeared. A novelist, she accepts and continues to adapt to each disappearance, with the help of an old man and the company of the neighbour's dog. Her editor R, goes into hiding due to his ability to remember and tries to instill in her the importance and value of memory, but while sometimes a memory returns, it no longer has any emotional significance or meaning.

It's a kind of dystopian novel that focuses more on the survival of the citizens than on exploring the tyranny that oppresses them, the Memory Police don't seem to be afflicted with the consequences of the disappearances and we don't understand what motivates them, there doesn't seem to be any purpose, merely an exploration of those aspects of humanity of the oppressed to survive and care for one another, whether that means putting one's life at risk to hide someone who does retain memories, to seek out old memories at the risk of being caught, caring for an old man and a dog.

Some things are innate to humanity and no matter what afflicts us, we are endlessly adaptable, continuing to find ways to work around and/or accept obstacles, here presented in a somewhat absurd manner, highlighting our inability to fight against adaptability. We have no choice but to adapt, it's written into our genes, and this regime has somehow managed to find a way to control and rewrite them.

Alongside what is happening on the island's (sur)real world, our protagonist writes a novel about a woman taking typing lessons from a man who will put her in a tower, the chapters are interspersed throughout the narrative and provide another thought-provoking aspect to the wider story.

Each disappearance activates the reader's imagination and the novel provokes many questions that make this interesting to discuss.

It's a novel that I'll be pondering for a few more days, wondering what it was getting at, just as you think you've found some deeper meaner, it kind of gets erased, there are no conclusions...it's like short term memory loss and a literary version of mild cognitive impairment, an affliction all humans over 40.

What a fascinating idea & concept to think up, a island close to Japan where inhabitants are slowly loosing their memories. The memory police then are also removing these people and objects but some are immune to this and those are the ones the police are looking for.
Rather a frightening tale with a dystopian slant to it. I felt a bit more background history could have been given to why this was happening and the purpose of it. But overall quite a unique read that I enjoyed.
My thanks go to the publisher, author and Nethgalley in providing this arc in return for a honest review.

After reading and loving Ogawa's 4 previously English translated books I was very excited for this book to come out. Unfortunately it did not grip me in the same way as her other books did but I did still very much enjoy it and look forward to more of her works being translated in the future.

An interesting concept. The book started off very well and had me thinking but sadly went downhill after that. The end was confusing to me, I understood where the author wanted to go but it was lacking sadly.

I was excited to read this book as it has been heavily spoken about and won lots of awards, although generally I'm not a fan of translated literature, simply because I feel like the act of translation takes away some of the original meanings and anecdotes although maybe that is me overthinking things.

I found the premise of this book interesting, with the idea of things 'disappearing' and those living within the confines of a specific area island close to Japan having to resist their memories and forget moments from their pasts both unusual and well written. The metaphor of 'The Memory Police' having full control over a large group people both physically and mentally can be compared to various dictator-like eras within our history which made the idea of the disappearances fascinating.

However, this book wasn't fascinating enough for me; the book felt quite quietly written, with the protagonist and her two friends never named and ultimately never truly understood and the flow of the text was rather slow. The book contained a lot of thoughts and feelings about what was happening to the islanders, yet I never felt a lot of empathy or particularly cared about any of the characters, which I was expecting to feel, but I think this is due to the deliberately anonymous writing style; it was difficult to find the book believable at times and so it wasn't my favourite read of 2019, but I would suggest it to others as everyone has a different opinion and it may appeal to another person.

This is a brilliantly gentle and hypnotic novel following disappearances on an unnamed island.
What begins and a tale of impracticality ends in a surreal look at memory and loss.

I really enjoy translated Japanese fiction and this read is no different.
I'm sure a lot of the story went over my head but I just enjoyed it for what it was. Without overthinking, I just enjoyed the journey.

Great read.

On its surface “The Memory Police” feels like a typical dystopian novel about an oppressive military force. The narrator lives on an island where certain objects such as roses and music boxes totally disappear. Not only do these things vanish overnight but so do people’s memories of them. Anyone possessing or even recalling these things after they’ve been outlawed disappear themselves through the enforcement of an impersonal group known as the memory police. This leads people (such as the narrator’s mother who is taken away) to conceal objects which were supposed to disappear and people who remember outlawed things go into hiding. Events such as the systematic burning and destruction of outlawed objects have obvious parallels with historic fascist regimes. While it portrays this nightmarish world in a moving way, Yoko Ogawa’s novel isn’t as concerned with the mechanics of totalitarianism as it is with the philosophical mysteries of the human heart as well as the meaning and function of memory.

The narrator is a novelist and over the course of the book we also get snippets of a story she’s writing about a typist and her instructor. As the novel progresses the parallels between the narrator’s world and the typist’s world become surreally aligned as they seem to reflect her internal reality. While I found the sections of the narrator’s novel-in-progress somewhat intrusive at first they take on an increasing power as her reality grows increasingly bleak and restricted. The interplay between these stories is given a further complexity in how the narrator’s editor (only referred to as R) goes into hiding and tries to coax the narrator into remembering what’s been lost in the disappearances. It’s so interesting how this shows the complex process of memorialisation and prompts the reader to question things like: what’s vital to remember and what’s better to forget? How much do we imaginatively insert false memories into the truth of what occurred in the past? To what degree is our memorialization of certain things or people about our own ego rather than honouring what’s been lost?

From reading Ogawa’s previous novel “The Housekeeper and the Professor” it’s clear these complex issues about memory are ones which doggedly preoccupy the author. I admire how she explores them in surprisingly subtle ways and from different angles in her brilliantly unique novels. She also has an interesting way of approaching the parallel issue of romance – both romance between people and our romantic relationship with our own pasts. In “The Memory Police” there’s a lot of discussion about the heart and how “A heart has no shape, no limits. That’s why you can put almost any kind of thing in it, why it can hold so much. It’s much like your memory, in that sense.” When things disappear it’s described as leaving holes in the hearts of people who can’t remember them and, because their absence forms these “new cavities”, it drives people to destroy any remaining physical trace of the thing. It’s like destroying sentimental letters, photographs or mementos when a relationship ends or a person dies – as if that can cancel out our feelings of bereavement.

In contrast to the resistant attitude of the editor R, the narrator also has a long-time friend and supporter in a figure only referred to as the “old man”. Although he assists the narrator in hiding the editor and rescuing disappeared goods, he has a more apathetic attitude about the worrying frequency with which things vanish. He states: “The disappearances are beyond our control. They have nothing to do with us. We’re all going to die anyway, someday, so what’s the differences? We simply have to leave things to fate.” Paired with the disappearances of memories is an inertia and lack of resistance from most of the general population who simply comply. This echoes many examples from history where people are unwilling to defend their values, way of life and the lives of others when threatened by a perceived authority. I’m sympathetic to this dilemma and it’s a complex subject. I admire the way this excellent novel wrestles with these issues that we all face both as individuals and citizens of our communities.

I think the strangest thing about this book is that you never get to find out the name of the protagonist, or her friend who is known only as "the old man". In fact, the only person in the book who has a name is the dog!

The unnamed protagonist is a novelist who lives on an (also unnamed) island. On this island, things disappear. Nobody knows what will disappear next; it could be anything. And once it has disappeared, the memory of that thing fades away until nobody remembers that thing anymore. The disappearances are controlled by the Memory Police, who are on the lookout for anyone who can still remember the things that have disappeared.

As things disappear, life becomes more difficult on the island. The story follows the main character's life and her experience of the disappearances.

The story is beautifully written, eloquent and delicately descriptive. The idea behind the book is a strange one, but it is surprisingly thought provoking. As different things disappear, you start to wonder how it would affect you, and whether you would miss those things. What would you really want to keep? Maybe there are some things you would actually like to disappear?

Because the story is quite thoughtful and delicate, it is also slow. Even when it seems like there is some danger or excitement in the story, it doesn't ramp up the feels very much at all. I enjoyed that style of writing though; I felt like I was in a little bubble reading this, even though it was quite unsettling at quite a few points because of what was happening on the island. And there is a lot happening on the island, but it happens in a slow and creeping manner right up until the end. Which I think is a perfect end, by the way.

I truly loved this book. It is very gentle and really quite poignant. It's a really unique story and I would recommend it to anyone who likes a thoughtful read.