Ratings4
Average rating4.3
This book is written in quite a simple way, and yet I found myself marking quotes a lot while reading it, so while simple in its telling, it manages to evoke quite a profound emotion and say a lot of very eloquent and consequential things that surprisingly touched me deeply.
The core of the book surrounds a phone booth in Japan, which actually does exist, although this book is fictional. It isn't a working phone but has become a sort of therapeutic and spiritual pilgrimage spot for those who have lost loved ones, most especially those who lost people during the March 2011 tsunami. It symbolically stands as a way to speak with those who have passed away. So, it's really not about a phone booth at all, but rather about the process of grief and how one small, unusual thing can become a crux for that process.
Our two main protagonists have both lost loved ones, Yui in particular lost her mother and daughter in the tsunami and we follow her mostly as she hears about and travels to the “Wind Phone” and the subsequent months and years that follow that pilgrimage with many more journey's both outward and inward as she meets others on their own personal journey of grief and how the phone and those people allow her the space and insight to find a way to deal with her own.
While the story's focus is on death, Messina handles it with grace and imbues it with hope and a light at the end of the tunnel. It doesn't give false platitudes or toxic positivity to convey its message though, but rather a very balanced outlook on embracing both the good and bad of life, the joy and sorrow, the triumphs, and the pitfalls, and how one does not necessarily have to overshadow the other, but rather how they are part of each other and how it can still lead to a good place.
The structure of the book may be difficult for some to get through. It doesn't grab you right away and the story isn't bursting with lyrical writing or fast-paced action, but is rather a slow exploration of the human experience of loss – both its heart-wrenching tragedy and its everyday mundaneness, those small everyday griefs very few speak about. I personally really enjoyed this approach and found it more profound for how it is told. I think it will stick with me for a long time.
I'll end with this quote, which while simple (fitting for the way this story is told), conveys a deep part of the story's premise:
“She had been wrong. It isn't just the best things that come to an end, but also the worst.”