|
|
|
They say there is a mermaid in town. Twelve-year-old Tokiko believes this because when she was four years old, a merman saved her from drowning, and now she moves back to her father after her mother left, and she wants to find the merman and thank him. But the town is hiding something from the children that may or may not involve her new friend Yosuke’s drowning brother, and Tokiko is determined to find out the truth.
Mermaid scales and sand castle
Translated by JN Productions, adapted by Annette Roman, with lyrics by Susan Daigle-Leach.
|
|
Review: |
|
 |
|
Synopsis: |
|
They say there is a mermaid in town. Twelve-year-old Tokiko believes this because when she was four years old, a merman saved her from drowning, and now she moves back to her father after her mother left, and she wants to find the merman and thank him. But the town is hiding something from the children that may or may not involve her new friend Yosuke’s drowning brother, and Tokiko is determined to find out the truth.
Mermaid scales and sand castle
Translated by JN Productions, adapted by Annette Roman, with lyrics by Susan Daigle-Leach.
|
Review: |
|
|
|
193883193883 It is easy for adults to ignore what a child sees. Whether it’s a mosquito that looks like a nymph in the twilight, or a mermaid in the sea, adults basking in cynicism or wishing to protect children from real or imagined dangers can write off imaginary things with impunity. But for those who need to believe in mermaids and other fantastic creatures, those beliefs are central to their understanding of the world. This is the starting point of the protagonist Tokiko. Twelve-year-old Tokiko returned to her mother’s hometown with her father, a small coastal fishing village. The family has always lived in Tokyo, but after the parents separated (less formally, more “mom just left”), Tokiko’s father decided to move in with his mother-in-law, a decision that was never really fully explained The last time Tokiko came to the village was when she was four years old when she nearly drowned and her mother didn’t notice her on the beach. In her memory, she was rescued by a young mermaid, and she was determined to find him and thank him for saving her life. But is he really there? Or was he born of her fear?
There’s a lot going on here, from the quiet pain of a personal tragedy to the efforts of adults to “protect” children from life, All of this has been honed by the need to believe. The three main tragedies running through the story are the town’s tsunami history, Toko’s experience with the merman, and the drowning of her new friend Yosuke’s brother. At least two of these have aroused local beliefs and sea gods in need of appeasement; the merman is said to be a messenger to convey the devotion of humans to him. The deity in question is the Shinto god of water and Datsun, one of the oldest deities in the Shinto pantheon, in Kojiki
and |
Japanese |
. The town has special rights dedicated to the gods, a superstition that makes them largely invisible to outside prying eyes or to children. Like other drowning victims in other world mythology, the merman is said to be someone who drowned in a tsunami in the town’s history, which is hinted at and shown to us long before we are actively told about it. Thus, the connection between the merman and death is established as a strong one from the start, allowing readers to make educated guesses about what happened to Tokiko years ago and how it’s connected to everything else in town.
This power of suggestion is the strongest element of the story. We keep seeing Tokiko’s need to believe, not what we start to suspect is the truth of everything. There is an adventurous aspect to the story and all pieces are quietly understated like
. For Tokiko and Yosuke, the adults in their lives didn’t give them the answers they needed, so they turned to the sea and its folklore to find their own. It’s important to note that no adult is trying to hurt a child by not telling them things. They seem to genuinely believe that they are protecting them from the truth of the world. It’s a familiar longing many of us have experienced from both ends, and the only adult in town willing to talk to them seems to do so because he recognizes that what works for one kid doesn’t work for all kids, Yosuke and Tokiko need more truth than fiction to help them make sense of the world. Sometimes not knowing is worse than knowing, and just as valid, having a little truth can help polish the pearls of your worldview.
Yoko Komori 293’s art is simple in a deceptive way. The backgrounds are more detailed than the characters, but still give the feeling of sparse sand dunes, dilapidated houses, and an unfathomable sea. Although the character design is simple, everyone’s thoughts and feelings are still obvious and easy to distinguish. Tokiko’s wayward mother’s design is noticeably cleaner in her hair and the way she dresses, suggesting that she doesn’t fit and isn’t interested in other characters. At one point, her mother said she had hoped her daughter would behave more maturely after having children of her own, only to discover that having children does not make a person a grown-up. In some ways, that quote sums up an important part of the book’s philosophy: adulthood means something different to everyone, and children develop at their own pace.
Even though we see mundane answers to the story’s questions, the end of the book leaves us—and Tokiko—believing in the existence of mermaids. Space and Poseidon. What we know and how we make sense of it is up to us, what we see out of the corner of our eye may be the truth we need to cling to.
100
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|