The eighth book I read this year that I haven't stopped thinking about since was The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa. I bought the book back in September when I went to Powell's Portland, but I never got around to reading it until January of this year. What drew me to it was the cover (sorry I judge books by their covers, sue me) and that it was placed on a table that had book recommendations from the staff. I saw it and read the back, and thought, "Perfect. Existential crisis time."
On the back of the novel, the book tells you that it's about a mysterious island where things go missing every so often (with increasing frequency as time goes on), and with them, the memories people have of those items disappear as well. However, because every dystopian-type novel needs a however, there are some people who are able to retain the memories of the 'disappeared' items, hence the role of the 'Memory Police:' individuals tasked with finding those who can remember, and take them away. Like the island, our main character is also unnamed. As a writer, she takes it upon herself to hide away her editor under her floorboards from the Memory Police.
Funnily enough, though the title of the book is The Memory Police, the Memory Police are used more so as a plot device than an actual antagonist; they serve simply as a plot device that helps drive the story further. Rather than being the dystopian novel the back of the book tells you it is, The Memory Police is actually a book where the entire book is a metaphor with loss, grief, how we deal with those two things, how memory affects those two things, and how memory shapes us into the people we are.
Ogawa's writing throughout the novel is careful and thought-provoking. It's written in this serene tone that seems to conflict with my own thoughts on the situation; if I were to exist in a place where things just disappeared and with them, my memory of them, would I be so calm? Would I be just as accepting of it? But then again, that's not actually what the book is about. Would I too be willing to repress, to forget memories in order to cope with loss or grief? In this way, it sort of reminded me of the movie Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, in the sense that the two main characters willingly have their memories erased thinking it will ease the pain they feel after their breakup.
At the beginning of the novel, the two main characters converse: the writer and the editor.
"I'd imagine you'd be uncomfortable, with your heart so full of so many forgotten things."
"No, that's not really a problem. 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" (81).
I feel like this quote alone sort of summarizes the premise of the novel. The main character, the writer, has a sort of deliberate resignation and acceptance of the situation they are in. Whereas the editor, R, chooses to hold onto his memories even if it can be painful at times.
My favorite quote from the book:
Spoiler
"I understand," I said, "It's not the box's fault that it disappeared. But what can we do? It's disturbing to see things that have disappeared, like tossing something hard and thorny into a peaceful pond. It sets up ripples, stirs up a whirlpool below, throws up mud from the bottom. So we have no choice, really, but to burn them or bury them or send them floating down the river, anything to push them as far away as possible."
"Is the music from the box that painful?" R asked, bending over and crossing his hands on his knees.
"No, not at all. I don't think so at all" (147).
I'm not sure what else to say about this novel without giving away the ending. So if you've read this book please please please please please let me know your thoughts about the ending and what you think it means. And if you haven't read this book.... go read it now (I'll be here. I'm waiting.). The cover is gorgeous, people will think you're so cool if you go to a cafe reading this mysteriously in the corner. All the cool kids are doing it (not true; literally no one I know has read this book), read it right now.