Promising violinist Yuki leaves her native rural Japan for London at 18 to start a new life. There, she falls in love with her teacher, over ten years her senior.
Meiko grows from child to teen to adult, grieving her mother, falling in love with her best friend and losing her connection to her Japanese identity.
Haruka leaves the grandparents who helped raise her and the farm where she grew up for Tokyo where she starts working as a bar hostess.
In Mongrel, we follow all three women, as they grow up and face the ghosts of their past and their present. In lyrical, unflinching prose, Hanako Footman explores the three characters’ choices and lack thereof, the shame of not fitting in, the silences that can freeze families in place for decades, the distance that distorts reality and emotional bonds.
The story gives readers an uncompromising look at grief and violence, but there is also beauty to be found in the three women, in the little things of childhood, in the rice fields. I loved how Hanako Footman unpeeled the layers of what it means to be of mixed origin and the complex, sometimes conflicting feelings inherent to that experience. A beautiful, sometimes devastating read, and much to think about.
Review by Leti