Scattered All Over the Earth

January 15, 2022
It could be the end of the world as we know it, but Tawada's vision of the future is intriguing. Hiruko, a refugee from a Japan that no longer exists--Tawada hints at sinister environmental reasons--spends her days in Denmark teaching young immigrant children to speak Panska (from Pan-Scandinavian), a seemingly simplistic language she's invented. When she appears on television, Hiruko draws the attention of linguist Knut, and the two embark on an increasingly madcap quest through northern Europe in search of another speaker of Hiruko's native language. A varied cast of characters--each in search of something--joins the quest along the way, and, as the band of seekers grows, Tawada expands upon the themes of language, immigration, globalization, and authenticity which underpin this slyly humorous first installment of a planned trilogy. As the pilgrims travel around in the shadows of the Roman Empire and its legacy of domination and assimilation, questions of contemporary mutations of culture arise: If pizza is served at an Indian restaurant in Germany, is it Indian food? Similar observations about the effects of global warming on Greenland--where the fish have disappeared but vegetables can now be grown--highlight the evolution of culture and existence. As dire as the quasi-dystopian future could be, with reminders of menacing climate change and Japan's nuclear history, Tawada's intrepid travelers seek community and consensus, and, when confronted with the loss of something "original," they seek out the best copy. Tawada, who won the National Book Award for Translated Literature for The Emissary (2018), also translated by Mitsutani, lives in Berlin and writes in both German and Japanese. Who decides what's authentic? Tawada will tell you that's in flux and always has been.

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Starred review from January 10, 2022
Vernacular noir, etymological postapocalypse, a romance in syntax—it’s hard to nail down which genre National Book Award winner Tawada’s brilliant and beguiling latest belongs to, except to say it’s deeply rooted in the power of language. At the center is Huriko, a refugee from a Japan that has vanished both from maps and cultural memory, who works as a children’s illustrator in Denmark, where she befriends the diffident Knut, a computer game programmer with a connoisseur’s interest in language and who is fascinated by Huriko’s homegrown dialect, which she calls “Panska.” Soon a group of amateur linguists forms, including Akash, a trans Indian woman, and Nanook, a Greenland Inuit sushi chef masquerading as an authority on Asian cooking. After they visit an umami festival in Trier, they continue to a culinary competition in Oslo, only to be derailed by a racist terror attack and an investigation into the killing of whales for their meat. Eventually, Huriko considers leaving the group for Arles, to meet the precocious son of a robot programmer in love with language and ships of all sizes, who may hold the secrets to Huriko’s past and country of origin. At every turn, at least two narratives coexist: the central story line and another hidden just under the surface, emerging through inflections of speech and the vagaries of translation, making the text as thrillingly complex as its characters. This pulls readers deep into the author’s polyphonic convergence of cultures. Once again, Tawada doesn’t cease to amaze.

February 1, 2022
Polyglot Tawada, who writes in both Japanese and German, introduced an ursine character named Knut in Memoirs of a Polar Bear (2016) and opens her newest import with a same-named protagonist. Whether or not the two are related seems unlikely, yet in Tawada's fascinating tale, synchronous serendipities are many. Knut here is a Danish wannabe linguist who poses as a graduate student to meet Hiruko, a refugee center storyteller who's guesting on a radio show and speaking fluently in a "homemade language," a pan-Scandinavian amalgamation-of-sorts. Her country has disappeared, severing her from family, friends, and fellow citizens; an isolation that means she, and the world, will likely lose her specific language and cultural origins (no, sushi really isn't Finnish, but who's to prove otherwise?). The pair bond, embarking on a European journey in search of linguistic connection for Hiruko; meanwhile, their travel network grows quickly, welcoming quirky characters with intersecting longings for kinship. Along the way, Tawada slyly interrogates shifting (disappearing) borders and populations, native (invented) identities, assumptions, and adaptations. Her most frequent translator, Mitsutani, brilliantly ciphers Tawada's magnificently inventive wordplay.

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December 9, 2022

In this acute meditation on language and culture from the National Book Award--winning Tawada (The Emissary), Japan vanishes beneath climate-changed waves, trapping Japanese national Hiruko in Denmark. There, she teaches immigrant children through picture dramas while purveying a delightfully grammar-fractured language she's invented called Panska (pan-Scandinavian). Amateur linguist Knut reaches out after hearing her on a TV show, and they travel Europe together in search of speakers of her native language. Their first stop is Trier, Germany, for a Umami festival at the Karl Marx House; there, they meet the gender-nonconforming Akash from India, who escorts Asians throughout the continent. The lecture they had planned to attend by famed chef Tenzo is cancelled owing to political unrest in Norway, where he is trapped--as Huriko points out, Japanese people are now without a country and hence a passport, making travel difficult--and so they head off to Oslo and eventually meet up with a Greenland Inuit sushi chef. From an argument over whether pizza can be considered Indian to Hiruko's fear of being sent to the United States, which needs English-speaking immigrants, the narrative is a study of culture as constantly shape-shifting. VERDICT As the smart, ever-inventive Tawada reveals, borders and languages may change, but the need to connect endures.--Barbara Hoffert, Library Journal

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