REVIEW #22: LONELY CASTLE IN THE MIRROR WHERE ANGST MEETS FANTASY

Lonely Castle in the Mirror
By Mizuki Tsujimura
Penguin Books, 2022

‘I sometimes find myself dreaming.’ When I read the opening sentence to this Young Adult novel, a lovely sigh slipped out and I felt immediately in the presence of someone I wanted to get to know. Hey, it’s not every day you meet someone who admits to being a dreamer, in this frenetic, over-occupied world.

Soon, I was rewarded with my second sentence to savour. ‘Use your imagination for once in your life!’ Clearly that wasn’t a problem for the author whose protagonist had just been sucked through a mirror into a strange new universe which had turned the ho-hum, bullying-at-school theme into an electrifying new genre. My heart opened up to Mizuki Tsujimura a little more. Here was someone who valued dreaming and imagination as much as I did. Excitedly, I began to speculate about where she would lead me . . . unlike her protagonist whose only desire was to get back to everything that was familiar: bullying, family tensions, rejection, constant pressure, melancholy and hopelessness on a daily basis. Surely there is a message in that. How often do human beings choose the familiarity of harassment and unhappiness over the fear of striking out on their own to an unknown universe with an entirely different reality?

TSUJIMURA TAKES A DIFFERENT APPROACH TO TEENAGE ANGST AND THE PERPETUAL PROBLEM OF BULLYING

Fortunately, Kokoro had second thoughts about her extraordinary experience. Didn’t she need an adventure? An escape? Everything was different the second time. Except for one thing! The Wolf Queen who was orchestrating this ‘kidnapping’ continued to call her cruel names. The first time it was ‘dullard.’ The second time it was ‘dumb fool.’ It seemed like a case of out of the frying pan, into the fire! Then the clue came; Tsujimura wants her readers to be conscious of her imagination and her narrative choices and we, the readers, are about to enter her fecund imagination. By watching her characters react to their experiences and noticing the way that developed their characters and relationships, we were learning about what it means to be a writer, as well as how to cope with life’s challenges.

At this point, the author introduces the notion of interdependence and equal responsibility in her protagonists’ mission to find the key to the Wishing Room. All seven of them must work together to avoid being punished should one of them break the rules, thereby causing them all to be trapped forever in this foreign land. The tension was rapidly rising, as the reader, and the characters, realised what was riding on this new adventure. (At this point, I couldn’t help wondering whether Tsujimura was mocking the plethora of reality television shows based on the premise of eliminating the competition for personal glory and gain, rather than working together to achieve a mutually satisfying and noble goal. Admittedly, I haven’t had a television for nearly thirty years, but I’m assuming people are still being served up this kind of back-stabbing and self-glorifying fare on a regular basis. Perhaps today’s society may consider accumulating wealth and fame to be noble goals, but this statement is based on a different idea of nobility, one presciently presented in Euripides’ play, Electra, nearly two and a half thousand years ago. In his play, Euripides conveyed the idea that nobility was a trait that arose from your character, not from your status in society – a radically new idea at that time.)

Using this small group of students struggling with tensions in friendships and families and the pressures of the school environment, Tsujimura explores the idea of character and relational dynamics and the way others may influence our character. When one of the boys was smitten with Aki-chan, the narrator poses this question: ‘If somebody manipulated your thoughts and feelings, would you still be the same person as before?’ These are the kinds of questions that confront the reader. Hopefully, they raise more questions. Is our character fixed, or is it constantly developing? Who and what influences our character development? Are we, ultimately, responsible for who we become? Is it possible to attribute our character to others? If so, who? Can we thank people . . . or blame them . . . for who we become?

Because these young people are reticent to share anything about their lives with each other, and they are not given a chance to speak directly to the reader by using different chapters for different voices, it is hard to feel a strong affinity, or empathy, with them. On the other hand, Tsujimura has mastered the teenage art of saying a lot without using words during the dialogues between the teens and also of conveying the dangers of others interpreting what the speaker does and doesn’t say very differently from the speaker’s intentions. For the most part, I think Tsujimura’s strength is in engaging us through presenting these situations and philosophical questions that create chains of thought that, ideally, will guide the reader out of the book into their particular setting where such questions will lead to their own character development and a greater empathy for those struggling to feel comfortable in our social structures. Tsujimura solves the difficulty of getting to know her characters by having Kokoro magically enter into the backstory of each of her castle companions. However, I found this part of the novel clichéd and laboured and would have preferred their backstories to have remained a mystery.

Tsujimura had one more trick up her sleeve and that was the manipulation of time. The idea of the parallel universes was considered and rejected before the discovery that they were living in the same location, but in different times. This twist was interesting and she was able to make her readers think about the many changes that take place over time, often transforming our experiences of a place. We also become aware of another profound idea that is part of our experience, but not always recognized. ‘Chance could change things.’ We are not in control of our environment. Where we go and who we meet are often very much a matter of chance. And then the even bigger question comes. What makes our experiences meaningful? And if they don’t lead to change, what is the point?

For me, the book brought up something that I think is true to varying degrees for all of us. We may live in the same city, the same street and even the same house, but our world will always be different. That’s not a fantasy. That is just reality. The people beside us are all coping with different things that are invisible to us, but very much a part of their everyday struggles, and it often feels as though we are alone in our own world. Tsujimura’s novel is an attempt to break down those walls and show us that working together can bring about change. That is the point.

Despite having no first-hand experience of living in Japan, I am enjoying becoming more acquainted with this unique culture through both the traditional life depicted in Takashi Matsuoka’s Cloud of Sparrows (one of my favourite novels ever) and his Autumn Bridge, aa well as the modern settings I have been introduced to recently. I’m not a person who would normally choose to read fantasy books. The nearest I have come would be the science fiction trilogy by C.S. Lewis. However, when fantasy is used to encourage young people to explore philosophical ideas, I’m all for it!