The Factory by Hiroko Oyamada

The Factory by Hiroko Oyamada

Japanese fiction

Original title – Kōjō

Translator – David Boyd

Source – Personal copy

I had decided to mix old and new fiction from Japan for my Japanese literature Challenge this year and this is a reasonable new book I think it came out in the US a while ago, but this edition that came out this year really caught my eye as it matched in with the other book by her they published and had what appears a crow on first sight but then seems like a raven or a darker blackbird. This actually was published in Japanese before the two other books that have been translated into English she had written. Oyamada had worked in several Jobs, one being in a large car factory, which inspired her to write this book. She is also a fan of Kafka and Llosa’s works. It is maybe near Kafka’s book, but it also reminds me of some other writers.

I DIDN’T WANT HIM ASKING WHAT KIND OF WORK IT WAS. I didn’t want to tell him. Fortunately, when I said I was going to be a contract worker at the factory, he didn’t bother asking anything else. He just gave me this look like I should probably report them to the Labor Standards Bureau. I told him I’d be going to work five days a week, starting Monday. “It’s full-time, though?” he asked, then told me to calculate my monthly rate.

“They’lI cover your commute, right?” They would, apparently.

The interview ended and Goto walked me over to the shredder station. It was also in the basement, but farther back. The Print Services Branch Office was a long rectangle with doors on the north and south walls, both of which led to the stairs. On the other side of the door to the north was the reception desk and the space where I’d had my interview.

When she finds out her job as a shredder.

The book is at a sister factory where we meet three workers who all seem to have random jobs in this place and seem to have no connection or idea of what is happening in the factory. This is all told in a flat tone that adds a sister edge to the work as it makes it seem odder and withdrawn in a way. Yoshiko she is an arty student that had been to the factory when she was a child. Goes for a job and is told the perfect job for her is just to be a paper shredder and make her own hours. This seems. odd but as she spends time we hear of washer lizards strange things going on in the main factory elsewhere . Then a moss specialist, as the roof is a living roof of most a nod towards environmental issues. Yoshiko is the moss man, and then his brother becomes a proofreader of factory documents, which are all a little odd. Then, add to these sinister blackbirds hanging around the factory. All ask what their jobs are, what the point of it all is, and what the factory is!

“What kind of work are you doing there?” my brother’s girlfriend asked. Goto warned me about saying too much to out-siders, but I hadn’t come across any document that was worth leaking, that I could possibly be paid for. Any secret worth protecting wasn’t going to end up at the shredder station. Departments would handle anything that sensitive internally. It’s obvious if you think about it. So why not tell her? When I said I work in print support, shredding documents, she jerked back and said, “Seriously? You mean you’re on your feet all day?” Well, I have a chair. I’m sitting most of the time. Of course our chairs are old hand-me-downs from who knows what department.

The factory has so many depatrments and jobs around it

I was reminded of Hrabal with his character in Too Loud, a solitude working with waste paper. Then even Wolfgang Hilbig Dark Factories, a sister, feels what the factory does. This is a huge place, and there is a sense I went around the old Ford factory in Liverpool, and it is like a town itself, and like this book, those in there can feel disconnected from the whole. The tone of the book and how it is narrated recalled Olga Ravn at times, the sense of the voice in her book The Employees, and the sense in that book where who was human and who wasn’t. Add to that a slight touch of dark magic realism. This is one chilling and odd little novella. This is how it feels to be a small cog in a factory. this isn’t the gritty social realism of Saturday night Sunday morning, not the mundane factory line; no, this is the darker side of a jobs that seems to have no meaning in the wider realm of things. Have you read this book?

Winston’s score – +B a solid novella dark and odd in places.