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.

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.

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.

“Important things remain important things, no matter how much the world changes.”

Set on an island where things often disappearing from the memories of the citizens of the island – though not all of them. The ‘remembers’ somehow manage to retain their memories of the forbidden items with no explanation why. As a result, these ‘remembers’ are the prime focus of the authoritarian Memory Police. It is for this reason that the narrator, having previously lost her mother to the Memory Police, decides to take action when she discovers that her editor and friend ‘R’ can also remember things which have disappeared. In a scheme reminiscent of Nazi Germany/Anne Frank, she hides R in a secret room within her house.

The simplistic language used throughout The Memory Police really contributes to the haunting and claustrophobic atmosphere that surrounds the narrative of a world disintegrating. The nameless protagonist/characters in this book strips them of their individualism and creates a mirror for us to peer into this fictional society and reflect on what it means to be an individual, to have a name and an existence.

The narrator of the book also is an author and throughout includes excepts of their manuscripts about a woman who has lost her voice and who uses a typewriter to communicate. This story within the story also acts as a further interesting exploration of the themes of language, identity and voice.

A memorable read which provokes some interesting and important existential questions about human existence – 4 stars.

Carefully and beautifully constructed magic realist tale of a world where items go missing day to day, and their memories are erased somehow. Imagine a world where one day you lose the idea and the existence of 'bird' or 'ribbon'.

But some people seem to be immune, and the memory police are looking for them.

Alright- this was not only a great read, but the idea and plot was unique. In a world full of books with very similar plots and covers - this stood out in every way. Five stars, wishing I could give 6.

My first time reading Yoko Ogawa (beyond a brief flit with The Professer and Housekeeper) and I was unsure what to expect from the book.

What I got was a very enjoyable read, what I got was an enjoyable haunting and surreal dystopian novel. A place where things vanish birds, perfume and memories of those things. Very Orwellian and would be a good read for people who enjoy the likes of 1984 and Brave New World.

Although it was my first time reading Yoko Ogawa it certainly won’t be my last. Perhaps it is now time to revisit her earlier works. It is always great to find a new author with a sizeable back catalogue to plunder for future reads. Especially translated fiction.

Review posted on Goodreads.

‘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.’

First published in 1994 with the original Japanese title ‘Hisoyaka na Kessho’ (roughly translated as ‘secret crystallizations’), Yoko Ogawa’s dystopian novel now gets an English translation from the ever-excellent Stephen Snyder. This is a quietly devastating study of an unseen authoritarian regime and its enforcers, the Memory Police of the title, and an island population that somehow tries to keep the one thing hidden away that can’t be controlled.

The island is unnamed, as are most of the characters. Our main narrator is a novelist, and the two main relationships she has in the book define her and her situation: R, her editor, who keeps his memories of those things which are disappeared and so is in constant fear of being found out; and the Old Man, the husband of the narrator’s late nurse, who becomes a father-figure to her. Within this narrative is our narrator’s own novel which she is writing, about a singer who loses her voice and takes up typing lessons, only for it to develop into a strangely-controlling relationship with her teacher. This story within a story gives an extra framework with which to view the book: people who are trapped, and the possibility within the creative process to forge a space where resistance to an overwhelming ideology is possible. Many residents of the island hide individuals, even whole families, who keep their memories, and our narrator hides R in a small, concealed room in her home. Ogawa herself has spoken of reading Anne Frank’s diary and there is a strong connection here with the trapped girl, whose only escape from the reality of horror was her writing.

The novel is lyrical, Ogawa’s prose a subtle and gentle observer of the events unfolding. The disappearances are quietly done, often disturbingly beautiful: roses are disappeared and the rivers fill with the entrancingly beautiful spectacle of millions of rose petals being washed out to sea; birds, too, disappear, and at one later point a solitary bird is fleetingly seen by our narrator but she is unable to remember what it is. As the novel progresses the disappearances pick up pace, and become alarmingly close to home, ending with some hauntingly moving images as the relationship between the narrator and her editor reaches its conclusion.

Ogawa is confident enough to leave the many questions each reader will have unanswered; we learn nothing of the regime behind the disappearances, the Memory Police being the symbol of this authoritarian rule. We have no idea just how these disappearances occur: how can an entire island population forget what a hat is, or what sweets taste like? And, perhaps disconcertingly for some readers, there is no neatly tied-up conclusion. The novel ends as it begins: quietly, lyrically, movingly. For me, this is where the power of the book resides, for this is more a subtle celebration of the artistic, creative spirit to face-up to what horrors confront it. Twenty-five years on from its original publication The Memory Police is, perhaps, even more relevant in today’s world. Anyone who comes to it will recognize the threats we face today: disappearing species and personal liberties, and the growing presence of extreme politics. How we confront that in our own ways is what matters. For our narrator, it is through her writing, as her editor assures her: ‘Each word you wrote will continue to exist as a memory, here in my heart, which will not disappear. You can be sure of that.’

This is a genuinely bewitching novel, hauntingly moving and beautifully crafted by the talented Yoko Ogawa. The questions it asks are much more important than any answers it gives, and for that it deserves to be read. A 5 stars must-read, for sure.

(With thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC of this title.)

A truly magical novel. A parable of modern times perhaps. Ideas of state surveillance and what it means to have independent thought or even existence. Mysterious and haunting - not easy to put down.