In Mai Ishizawas extraordinary, beautiful novel, place and the present are filled with time: she shows us how we can migrate into a past and how our own pasts migrate with us, how we carry scraps of them wherever we go. -- Sarah Bernstein, author of Study for Obedience An exquisite, mysterious novel of mourning on a planetary scale. * Booklist * A work of great delicacy and seriousness. Ishizawa anchors the temporal and the ghostly with a transfixing pragmatism, and the result is a shifting, tessellated kaleidoscope of memory, architecture, history and grief -- Jessica Au, author of Cold Enough for Snow Here we find a form of language that attempts to venture, dancing, into a past enveloped in silence -- Yoko Tawada, author of The Last Children of Tokyo Missing persons and dogs, the dead and the living, are all on an even footing, interacting with equality. The multilayered intertwining of their memories saw me several times losing my perspective and growing dizzy, and the next thing I knew, I had been dragged into even deeper territory than I was expecting. This attempt to imprint upon humanity the experiences of the 2011 Thoku earthquake and tsunami in a way that only a novel can achieve deserves to be highly esteemed -- Yoko Ogawa, author of The Memory Police The Place of Shells is a meditation on art, death, and belonging. It reads like an eerie, shimmering fever dream where the boundaries between past and present, reality and fantasy, life and death often shatter. A strange and beautiful memento mori of a novel -- Jenny Mustard, author of A strange and slim novel of erudition ( that) captures the emotional haze in the aftermath of disaster . . . somewhere between W. G. Sebald and Hiromi Kawakami . . . Trauma, memory and survivors guilt are all keywords that could be generically tagged to this books metadata, but its much more than the sum of its contents. The intricate writerly prose is a welcome departure from the stilted, often underwritten language ubiquitous in Japanese novels translated into English today. . . . it reads like poetry, or a prayer. The characters keep coming and going, crossing and circling, searching and suffering, living inside the reverberations of history. * Japan Times * At once domestic and otherworldly, intimate yet austere . . . for a slim novel, Ishizawa sweeps across tragedies of personal and global order. Gratifyingly, the novel does so without veering into cliches; while it makes many generalities about the nature of remembrance and grief, Ishizawa evades sentimentality. Her language remains precise and piercing amid the absurd: the stilted nature of certain phrases, the repetition of both imagery and feeling. -- Anabelle Johnston * Los Angeles Review of Books * Like a memory, this book does not lose the quality of pain and loss, which captures everything that is shaky and incomprehensible -- Misha Honcharenko, author of Trap Unfolds Me Greedily A quietly devastating and masterfully surreal debut that lingers long after the final page . . . a novel that feels like a memory half-remembered - fragile, haunting, and strangely sacred . . . for readers willing to surrender to its tide, Ishizawa offers something extraordinary. Its a literary experience that captures the ghostly weight of loss, and the way our minds attempt to piece together meaning when the world falls apart. * Metropolis Japan *
